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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

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Thinking about a Yandere Demon Lord. This is Part 1.

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon Lord x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero

TW: Voyeurism, stalking, Somniaphilia, dacryphillia, dark content, etc

Part 2

You were surprised to be alive after your cold fiancé pushed you into oncoming traffic when you got into an argument with him… all you had wanted was for him to show you that he loved you, but instead he killed you. Yet your life didn’t end… no. Far from it.

Rather than waking up in the supposed after life, you woke up in the Rerenth Kingdom. A fantasy kingdom in a magical world plagued with problems written in fiction novels. And the emperor explained to you, no, demanded that you to take on your role as Saintess to save them from the Demon King.

The demon king was now your enemy. Defeating him was the only way for you to go home… but did you even want to do that? In your last life and in this one, you were merely another unhappy pawn. The silk robes and dazzling abilities did nothing to shield you from the harsh reality of what your life has become once more… would you ever truly be free? Would you ever truly be happy?

The servants often spoke of the monstrous Demon King who controlled the forces of darkness that sought to destroy the light. A demonic entity none of the people in this kingdom had ever truly seen with their own eyes, but they believed him to be out there… how else were they to explain the supernatural happenings that plagued their kingdom? This entire ordeal made little sense to you since you hadn’t seen many disputes between humans and demons unless they were over territory. Vast majority of the time, it was humans that ventured into the demonic lands anyways. Was this perhaps some propaganda tactic? You didn’t know and you didn’t question it, you simply wanted to retire to a peaceful life.

It took a few weeks for you to be able to control your new holy power, but you were able to now harness it for barriers and for healing. Abilities that would be useless without a hero… a fact that the citizens soon realized so they began to devise another plan. To summon a hero!

Another few weeks passed by and they successfully summoned a valiant hero by the name of Reinhardt. His chiseled face was constantly covered by the taxidermied lion mask that adorned his face. The man was massive and intimidating, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t place a finger on who he could possibly be since you didn’t know anyone else with an imposing stature like his but that gut feeling never left you.

Reinhardt would often glance you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His green eyes would bore into yours until you felt as if you’d be set ablaze. He was terrifying to you. Especially now that you were on a journey with him to defeat the demon king… along with a fox beastwoman fighter and an elven mage who had joined your party due to the emperor’s order. The Emperor didn’t see you to be enough aid to the hero on this important quest.

Both adventurers were quite rude to you at first since you had no offensive abilities. They often fawned over the hero who blatantly ignored their affections to instead watch over you like a hawk. A fact the two women didn’t really enjoy, but they accepted it as the weeks melted into months. And you still didn’t know their names since they never told you (and Reinhardt never spoke).

The three of them often fought and killed monsters and demons while you protected the supplies and healed their injuries. It upset you that your party ambushed them since the enemies usually were unarmed. Majority of the time, it was a one-sided slaughter. An endless bloodbath that you had no power to stop.

You often lied to your peers about monsters hiding, unaware that your small act of kindness would lead to a snowball effect in the future. You had now caught the eye of an entity much stronger than you and the hero’s party… all because you were merciful. You were kind and sweet. A true saintess.

Your softness had made your peers joke about you being a cry baby. The elven mage and beastwoman often jabbed their elbows into your side to joke about the tears you’d cry because they thought you were scared. The dense women never realized your tears were for the innocent monsters they slaughtered on a day to day basis too. You were never scared of the demons or monsters, you were scared of them.

Yet Reinhardt nipped the subtle bullying in the bud by shoving the other two adventures away from you with his strong arms. He always made sure you were safe before he offered his body for healing… which he’d just make gesture at you with his hands rather than speak. It seemed he was fond of you, a fondness you didn’t understand since he never spoke to you.

Reinhardt would often pick you up without asking you and tuck you into the crook of his large arm. It bothered you that he never took off his mask, but he had quite an attractive jawline with the slightest bit of stubble. There was not a doubt in your mind that Reinhardt was likely an attractive man, but that didn’t matter. Since he was creepy.

Reinhardt never uttered a word to you but would always dutifully stand by your side (or carry you like some sort of damsel). He often reminded you of your ex fiancé with his stoic demeanor and his bewitching green eyes. And the staring. You swore you felt bare under his gaze even if you had multiple layers on.

And it wasn’t just his eyes you felt on you, you swore there was someone else watching you in the shadows and the possibility of you having another stalker made your skin crawl. Had you finally gone insane from having Reinhardt be around you 24/7? Or was there something sinister amiss?

Maybe that’s why Reinhardt so dutifully clung to you? Whether his protection was out of obligation or simply because he lusted for you, his presence did little to ease the extra set of eyes. In fact, he made it worse.

Wherever you were, Reinhardt was never far. He was with you when you bathed to stand guard. He was carrying you if you couldn’t keep up with him and the rest of the hero’s party. Reinhardt even began to stay in your tent with you…

He didn’t utter a word when he watched over you whenever you had nightmares. Reinhardt never woke you up from the horrific dreams of the man with pitch black hair and sharp talons pulling you into his lap and having his way with you. No, Reinhardt instead dragged his tongue down your tear stricken face in delight.

Reinhardt knew his actions were wrong, but he couldn’t help but fawn over your helpless form. You were so weak without his protection… you were a lamb sent to a slaughter that luckily had a herding dog with you. You should be grateful Reinhardt had such an intense interest in you, otherwise you could have perished earlier on at the goblin camps. Or those other two party members would have likely broken a few of your bones from rough housing. You were a frail bird that needed to be locked up at all times and Reinhardt was willing to be the one to do that! He would keep you safe, even if it took you years to understand even an ounce of his magnitude of feelings for you. He was a patient man!

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up in your tent with Reindhart’s imposing form standing over you ominously. You’d cry every single time, but he’d make no move to comfort you. Only stare.

Over the last four weeks, you begin to receive little trinkets in your tent on the daily. Delicacies that Reinhardt would immediately pitch once he saw them, but it filled you with anxiety that he was not the one slipping you those gifts… who on earth could be gifting you such pretty rocks and wild flowers?

You were flattered, just the tiniest bit, by the small, temporary gifts. They were much more welcomed than the iron grip of Reinhardt’s arms. Even though the sender made you anxious, it was nice to know that someone took you into consideration. It was a small action that filled you with hope. Perhaps you would be saved from this fate?

Shame you didn’t understand just how much those tiny gifts upset the hero. Your eyes should only be on him. Your entire purpose should revolve around him. Reinhardt wanted to find the individual who sent you these gifts so he could rip them limb from limb. You belonged to him and he would show you that you had no way of escaping him. You were going to be his bride! Whether you liked it or not, the hero had chosen you as his destined one!

Recently, you’d wake up to him laying beside you in your tent with his large arms wrapped around you. His Roman nose buried into the crook of your neck. This was far worse than him lingering in your tent since he had become so physical.

And your peers did nothing about his harassment of you. To them, it was cute that the hero was so ‘enamored’ with the Saintess! You’ve even heard whispers of how the emperor will no doubt arrange a marriage between the two of you once the four of you eliminated the demon king. It terrified you even more because you knew you’d have little say in the matter… your life was spiraling out of your own control once more. This time, into the arms of some brute with attachment issues. You didn’t want to marry another emotionally constipated man! You wanted to have freedom!

You often cried yourself to sleep which only made Reinhardt even more overbearing. He now would press kisses to your cheeks and cuddle his body into yours. Even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape this massive man. If only you could be saved…

And when you drifted off into an unnaturally heavy sleep, your barriers deactivated. An action that allowed the Demon King to finally slip into your party’s camp and take what he wanted. You.

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cythena · 24 days

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‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ CLOSER

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ " i just can't leave you alone "

synopsis . . . choso is so infatuated with the shy girl from his forensics class. his hobbies outside of school make it so easy to get to know more about her but he just wants to get closer to her.

warnings . . . college au, ghostface!choso, reader is very sick in the head, dubcon, dark content, reader has longish hair but the texture can be in whatever way you want, breeding, slapping, hair pulling, bdsm (not with reader), choking, breaking n entering, stalking, porn, choso is a huge creep, voyeurism

notes . . . 2.7k words, 10 minute read, a little longer than usual. this is not not sum light but iykyk. so proceed with caution if you're concerned.

his eyes are attached to every movement you make. it could be anything. you clicked your pen, your head slightly tilting to the left, your sigh after glancing at the clock. he noticed it all. he loved it. it was the way he passed his time at 10 in the morning. unfortunately, this was the only avaliable time for this class but fortunately for choso, it was the same time you picked.

you were a dream; pouty lips and doe eyes fit your soft face. then he could drag his eyes down to your chest, admire your waist, and fantasize about your hips. he had an hour of time with you, albeit a table away from you, but still. for an hour, he memorized every feature he could to save later for his sketchbook.

he would arrive early just to see you walk in, and sometimes you would walk past his seat. on those days, he would catch a whiff of your delicate perfume. it was sweet vanilla, soft. you'd think it would fit you. you looked very sweet, with your hair styled with bows and a large collection of skirts. your voice rose in pitch whenever your existence was acknowledged by others.

but choso's seen you. he's really seen you — in such a raw state that no one had the faintest clue about it. you're very forgetful, leaving your curtains open like you wanted him to watch. you were such a tease. your room was true to your aesthetic. he watched you open up your sanrio decorated laptop and settle into your lush bed. from his angle, he could see the screen with you.

you leaned against your pillows as your fingertips moved naturally to a website. the sight excited him to the core and he started spinning his various rings around his fingers. he wasn't dumb, he knew you would get lonely. but he wasn't sure what site you were on. nevertheless, he was so interested in what softcore video caught your eye. you weren't into the dirty stuff. you liked it clean, amateur for sure.

to his surprise, your video was nothing of the sort. a masked man pulled on the bare girl's chain. her skin was red and dripping. a grin spread across her lips as the huge man slapped his cock on her face. your hand was already between your legs. your pajama top had the first few buttons popped open while your other hand palmed your tit.

choso's cock hardened at the view. your lips parted as you played with yourself. he was eager to join you, but he stopped himself — forced himself to burn the moment into his memory. the priceless sight needed to stay with him forever.

the woman and the video was tossed onto the bed. the camera propped in front of her face but a majority of the man was visible. his upper body towered over her as a large hand left bright marks onto her ass. her face contorted in pleasure. choso wondered how your face really looked now. he wanted to hear your sounds.

your thighs clenched together around your hand. your shoulders caved in and your entire body shook. choso's breath quickened. the man in the video wrapped his hand around her neck. he yanked her against his chest while keeping her pinned by the waist.

you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth while your eyes shut. chills racked through choso's spine. he wasn't sure he blinked until you were settled in your bed again and your laptop was shut. his hand clutched the neck of his shirt, now feeling warmer than before.

he took a moment to gather himself. his legs felt like jelly. he sank down to the grass outside your window but stared at your windowsill. the small window of light shining on the grass suddenly snapped off. you finally shut the curtains and he knew it was time to go. standing up, he felt an odd warm feeling in his pants.

looking down, he could barely see the faint glistening on his dark pants.

"fuck..."

that was months ago. over time, he's felt closer to you. you've shared so many intimate moments together, unknowingly. in his mind, you've consummated your love on numerous occasions. but it still wasn't enough. he wanted to really touch you.

he wanted to kiss you and caress your hips. in the same thought, he imagined his knuckles rubbing against your scalp as he pulled your hair back. he knew you would love that. your dirty searches told him many secrets. they helped him collect so much information about you.

there were a few attributes those videos shared. they were nasty, dirty, spit and cum covered those girls entirely. those girls were treated like a personal pets to serve those men. but the one that was in every single video, no matter the genre...those men were always masked.

even the nights you decided to take a softer route, the man's identity was unknown. it seemed you had a strong taste for the mystery. he's never seen you take a second glance at any video with a man's face.

he was so proud to know this about you. he watched you walk past him every day and all he could think about was how you would feel if he was the man and you were his to use. you'd be a toy he could never get tired of. he's felt a cord attach the two of you ever since. it was made of the secrets you shared.

the videos started getting more intense, more bloody and brutal, and your orgasms became harsher. this video had the man forcing himself into the unsuspecting girl's room. the man covered her mouth to stop what choso assumed were her loud moans.

choso watched your heaving chest. you're such a sick freak, he thought but he wondered...if watching it made you cum so hard, then would experiencing it be even better? an unknown and unexpected man having his way with you. he cock ached with the desire to climb through your window and test your theory.

you were much earlier today, choso had barely arrived and settled in to wait for you when you walked in. he was sliding his rings on his fingers again when he heard your footsteps. you looked so adorable. you wore a white tank top with a cute bow decorating your cleavage and a brown skirt. you were so effortlessly pretty in his eyes.

your perfume was different today too. you must've run out of your vanilla pearl. he loved the scent so much he went a bought a bottle to remind him of you. he'd spray it on his shirts every night. this new scent was fresh, floral. it was so light and refreshing. the charming mixture of flowers was irresistible. it lingered around him.

"excuse me, choso, would it be alright if i moved to sit with you? i'm sorry, i just wanted to see better."

you nervously tugged on the strap of your bag. your index and thumb toyed with the cat pin on it. the smile forced itself onto his face. he hoped it wasn't scaring you. there was no stopping the joy of hearing you say his name.

"yeah, that's alright." he even pulled the chair out for you to sit with him. the table had enough space for the both of you yet he scooted it a little closer to his side.

minutes of silence passed. choso had decided to entertain himself with your his sketchbook. it was his but the only thing he could bring himself to draw was you. it didn't look like that at first glance but it was you. he could draw you from his pure memory. there was you sleeping, playing in makeup, changing. one of you sitting in class caught your eye. you admired the faceless drawing.

"you're really good."

choso stopped, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. he even tried to cover some of the drawing with his palm. he could see part of your smile from the corner of his eye.

"thank you...do you wanna see more?" he offered, feeling his nerves tingling.

now you scooted closer to him. your shoulder pressed against his now. he slid the sketchbook over to the middle of you. his mind wandered and he could no longer completely focus on giving you a tour of his drawings — not when your tits were so close to him. he could ever see a little of your bra peeking out in a gap.

your nail ended up pointing to the one of you changing shirts. it was the one time you faced the window. he remembered you didn't even bother to put on a shirt again that night.

"this is the same girl, isn't it? why don't you draw her face?" you asked.

"she's too pretty, i'd never be able to do her justice."

your eyes widened, for a second you wished he was saying it about you. still, it was romantic. oh. it also meant choso had a girlfriend.

"she must be beautiful then."

you were so clueless to his affections if one could even call them that. you stared at him with what looked like stars in your eyes. he couldn't bring himself to look any further. instead, he pulled the sketchbook closer to himself and smiled at your portraits.

"incredibly."

every time choso set up outside of your bedroom window was more exhilarating than the last. it was his favorite part of the evening. it was your time together. tonight he would be doing you a favor. he felt significantly better about it knowing you'd appreciate it. he knew you better than anyone and tonight he'd proof it.

he wanted to get to you before you were ready for bed. you were in the shower for twenty minutes so when you grabbed your towel and left the room, he pushed open the window. he was careful not to dirty your clean floor as he tiptoed towards your door. he stood and waited for the water to stop running.

choso's heart raced, blood and adrenaline pumping a thousand times faster. his fingers twitched at the touch of sinking into your flesh, especially the clean skin after your shower. he ran his fingers over the textured metal and pressed against them. he was finally going to make you his even if you didn't know it was him.

time couldn't have gone by any faster. the water shut off and within minutes your footsteps came padding down the hall. he adjusted his mask in your mirror, the white ghost mask identical to the man's in the videos.

the door opened and his hand smacked over your mouth. he shoved your back to his chest and pinned you against him. he held you close, inhaling this new strawberry scent of your soap. his hand caressed the side of your hip.

"calm down," his chilling voice demanded. your breathing slowed and he relaxed as well. you stared at your reflection. this form towered over you. the towel you clutched to your chest began slipping out of your grasp.

choso steadily removed his hand from your mouth, ready to clasp it again if needed. "good girl, you can be a good girl for me. yeah, get on the bed." he patted your side and let you walk towards your bed. he stalked behind you. you turned around to face him with teary eyes. he tucked your chin between his thumb and index.

he moved your hands away from the towel and let it pool around your hips now. your soft breast filled his palm nicely. he felt like such a virgin looking at your body. it's like even when he's so close you can't help but be a little tease.

"spread, now."

you were so obedient. you followed every command like a well trained puppy. he kneeled between your spread legs, shifting the towel completely off of your thighs. your body was everything he ever dreamed of and more. he wanted a taste but this stupid mask was in his way.

he hovered over you, trapping you between him and the wall. you slapped your hand over your mouth when he snatched your neck. the mesh couldn't hide the beautiful panic on your face. your breathing quickened. he forced you to look into the droopy eyes of the mask while he unzipped his pants.

what he really wanted to do was kiss you. then, he wanted to hear his name. next time.

he didn't give you a warning when he shoved two fingers into your cunt. you squealed against your own palm — the most heavenly noise he's ever heard and it was his doing. you were at his mercy. the cold metal sent chills through your walls. he twisted and curled his fingers inside of you, pulling you closer to your finish.

he squeezed your neck enough to make your eyes cross and you go dizzy. a smile planted on your lips behind your hand. your walls contracted around his fingers and stayed tight.

he admired the strings of slick between his fingers. he needed it. he was so desperate to taste you. so he slipped his fingers underneath his mask and into his mouth where he sucked every last intoxicating drop. it seemed everything about you was sweet except that fucked up head of yours.

he yanked your legs around his waist, lining your hole up perfectly with his hard cock. the tip swept against your clit. your sensitive body reacted to every touch. he wanted you to beg for him to do something. he didn't care what it was just, beg.

he planted his hands on your waist. you clawed at his forearms while writhing. "please," you whimpered. "please, sir, i wanna feel you."

"my dirty girl." taking your breath away, he buried himself into your hole. you were so full of him it felt impossible. he gathered your wrists in one hand while slamming his cock into you.

drool dripped out the corner of your mouth stuffed with choso's thumb. you loved grabbing onto nothing and digging your nails into your own palm. you sank your teeth into your quivering bottom lip. choso laid a slap on your cheek and you moaned.

"oh! please! f-feels so good!" you gasped. moans continued to interrupt any word you could think to say. you just gave up trying to speak. he kept reminding himself that next time you'll be crying his name.

the need to feel you tighten around his cock powered him. he frantically drove himself into your hole working towards that blissful release for both of you.

he forced you further into the mattress by the neck. it was like his strength tripled when with you. it was like he was fucking a message into you. a message he wouldn't leave until he knew it was engraved in your mind.

"you're all fucking mine. all mine. say it."

"aha! yes!" you grinned. "i'm all yours!"

he dropped your bruised hands and you gripped his shoulders. your eyes crossed and rolled back into your head. your body convulsed as you tried to steady yourself with his shoulders. you felt your legs go weak and slip from his waist.

he flipped you over to your knees, his thick hands grabbed onto your waist while pushing you into the bed. it was pure instinct at this point. he brought his hand deep into the strands of your hair. using this, he made you squeal when he yanked your head back. tears fell from your doe eyes.

every signal in body told him he needed to fill you and he wasn't going to stop until he did. he let out a heavy growl with his head throw back as his cum spilled into you. he stayed inside you, forcing his seed to stay inside you.

"thank you," you breathed. choso rubbed your bruised hips and other darker spots littered across your body. he inhaled your scent again before pushing himself off of you. he watched you roll onto your side and close your eyes.

the next school day, you took your seat next to choso. you bounced into class with a bright smile. today your perfume was new. it was a sweet strawberry scent that filled his nose. he is cheeks heated up, remembering your smell that night.

"good morning choso," you smiled as you began unpacking your bag.

"good morning y/n."

choso shut his sketchbook and spread his palm over it. something you dropped clattered on the desk. looking back down, he saw one of his rings spinning around. he swept it up and slid it back on his finger.

"i knew it looked familiar but i think there was one more. could you come get it tonight?"

of course you knew. you shared every sick fantasy with him. "i'll be there tonight."

— © cythena 2024. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

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noirscript · 3 months

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warning/s: YANDERE. DUBCON. drugging. implied somnophilia. power imbalance. arson. manipulation. (I'm dumb when it comes to tagging. send help.)

featuring: a new character! YANDERE!HEIR Xavier Veluxe

Explore my first YANDERE!HEIR content by clicking the link!

YANDERE!HEIR who saw you walking away from their company and noticed the defeated look on your face.

YANDERE!HEIR who wanted to make sure that he'll be the one to make you smile whenever you're feeling down. So he followed you home, only to see you getting comforted by some other man.

YANDERE!HEIR who made sure to dig deep into that man's background and made sure that he'll never be able to find another work anymore. (Until his saving grace came around. However, he'll be working somewhere far away and he could even take his family with him! Isn't that wonderful?)

YANDERE!HEIR who also made sure that you won't get hired in any type of job out there. Even that mediocre eatery wouldn't hire you. But worry not! He'll be there to save you.

YANDERE!HEIR who was coincidentally looking for a stay-at-home personal assistant. He needs you to be next to him at all times. Oh, you can't do that? Aw... too bad then. Guess you won't have any place to return to anymore.

YANDERE!HEIR who immediately came to your rescue as soon as he heard how your house was engulf in flames along with several houses nearby. Don't worry, his offer is still available. You can stay in his house while working for him. You got nothing to worry about!

YANDERE!HEIR who always seemed to leave the house too early (for you two to meet) and arrive too late (for you to assist him). It even somehow felt like this entire house was yours and he's the one who's staying over for a bit.

YANDERE!HEIR who knew that he's about to snap. Maybe you wouldn't mind it if takes a peak, right? He's letting you stay under his roof. You can even enjoy everything you could only imagine. He promise he'll only look and nothing more.

YANDERE!HEIR who couldn't keep his promise. The night he came closer to you, he did something he knew you wouldn't like. But the warmth that radiates on your skin and the scent your pussy drove him crazy. Luckily, he was able to slip some Rohypnol on your drink earlier.

YANDERE!HEIR who tries his best to keep his erection the moment he spotted a darkening spot near your neck. How he wish he could make more noticeable marks on you. Maybe that way everyone would backoff.

So... yeah. YANDERE!HEIR ✨

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ryukatters · 7 months

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Ok so imagine:

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

And then you show up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

For your safety, he reasons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As usual, you appease him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#kat’s writing #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #yandere!gojo #yandere!gojo x reader #cw.yandere #tw.yandere #cw.stalking #tw.stalking #cw.obsession #tw.obsession #cw.power dynamics #tw.power dynamics #kat’s demon time

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writr4luvrs · 1 month

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Teacher!nanami x Yandere!student!Reader

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

note: COLLEGE teacher nanami, mind you; not proofread

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

why did you have to be cute as well?

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #yandere!reader #nanami kento x yandere!reader #yandere #tw.stalking #cw.stalking #cw.yandere #luvr writes #dark content #tw dark content #student!reader

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zhongrin · 2 years

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bad influence

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, al haitham, ayato

◇ tags ◇ mafia!au, light gore, mention of blood, stalking (al haitham), cliche trope, vague concept, unfinished & not fully built plot

◇ a/n ◇ ayato’s is rather short bc i hadn’t planned to write for him but the brainrot gods decided to grace me with a crumb of inspiration for him

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

you, a clueless bystander who was just living your normal citizen life, until one day, some strangers dressed in immaculately pressed suits who are clearly hostile attacked you with a clear intent to kill, as you're off on your late-night grocery run.

you, who watched in horror as a pretty-looking man suddenly appears out of nowhere, making quick work of the 'bad guys' with precise cuts to their throats, the jades embedded in his knives and his studded earrings glinting menacingly under the moonlit night sky.

you, who were then forcefully brought to a grand-looking manor, passing a well-tended garden that seems to span for hectares and a magnificent set of golden doors leading to an office that's almost as big as the entirety of your humble little house.

you, who almost faint upon seeing the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, with his gold-amber eyes that twinkle under the massive chandelier and a smile that's both comforting but also dubious, his gloved fingers setting the crystal clear glass of wine onto a desk that seems far too big for one person to use as soon as you came in.

you, who ask in a timid but polite voice, about your whereabouts and the reason why were you brought here, not wanting to anger the important-looking man.

you, who gulp in both fear and excitement and confusion as the man gives you a fleeting, nostalgic look, as if he’s seeing something you can’t see as he drinks your visage.

"well, i can't exactly let the granddaughter of a good friend of mine be killed in such a gruesome manner, now can i?"

OR alternatively,

you and “alatus”, being the left and right hand man of the fearsome “rex lapis”, respectively, your infamous codenames striking fear into your targets.

if “alatus” is known for his clean kills and the way he just ‘disappears’ from the crime scene, you’re very much the opposite. you love the attention, the screams, the chase and the finishing kill, the way skulls crack and blood trickles down your gloves. it gets you in so much trouble and your lover berates you for it repeatedly, but you can’t help it; it’s so much fun toying with your food before stabbing it to death, and you live for the thrill, for the adrenaline rushing inside your veins.

oh yes, your lover, codename “rex lapis” or “morax” - whom people in his inner circle call “zhongli” - who is also your boss, isn’t too fond of how you do things… he understands your point of view, being rather of similar temperament in his younger days, but mainly he just dislikes the notion of you being in danger. yet, he knows you’d rather kill yourself than be his demure, timid wife. plus, he can’t exactly lie…

you’re kind of hot when you’re unhinged.

so what does he do? he faithfully makes sure to tie loose ends, do the necessary cleanups so you can continue doing what you do, and gently washes your bloodied hair as he listens patiently to your excited ramblings about your recent ‘assassination’.

you two certainly make a great team.

your savior who made the best and yet also the worst first impression - though he did technically save you, he did murder all of those people in cold blood. and seeing how fluid, how precise his movements were, it could only mean that he’s used to the act of killing itself.

he’s so cold too, with his catlike golden eyes that you swear were glowing in the darkness, the eternally downturned corners of his lips, and his short, clipped replies.

still, he saved you and tended to the slight cut you got from the group that tried to off you, so the moment zhongli asks if you have a preference for a bodyguard, your automatic response is to say xiao’s name. zhongli was talking about personality traits but he decides to step back and watch the circus unfolds.

naturally, xiao refuses, throws a few mean words, and you certainly weren't going to just stand there and take his insults, so you shoot back with a few - and one of them seems to hit harder than you’d expect.

‘yeah you know what nevermind, i don’t want to be guarded by a murder weapon!’

xiao freezes, eyes wide, fists clenching on his sides, gloved fingers digging to his palm, before he suddenly turns abruptly to exit the office.

it’s zhongli who gives you a patient look as guilt starts to settle inside your chest, knowing that you’ve accidentally hurt the one who saved your life that night, and deeply at that. he sits you down and brews you tea as he tells you a story of a past besmirched in blood, neglect, and betrayal.

xiao shows up the next day nonetheless, ever so stoic and icily informing you that it was merely his duty as your supposed ‘bodyguard’ for the time being, since you’ve so kindly appointed him yourself. you bite down the insults and asks for his forgiveness instead, to which he scoffs and look away.

and like all cliche stories, somewhere along the path of seeking his forgiveness and navigating your new life, you fall in love.

the best part? he falls harder.

oh, this bastard. he’s one of the higher-ups of the family who wanted you dead.

the thing is, he’s not there for money, or fame, or anything like that. what al haitham wants from joining such an organization was because this particular one has an abundance of networks, which means: information. knowledge. secrets.

and your grandfather, he held the key to a rather interesting secret that very few seem to be privy to. that’s why they’re hunting you down; a necessary precaution to silence a potential threat. it matters little whether you know about what it was about or how much you know. the fact stands that your grandfather had somehow managed to keep your existence hidden until now, so that must mean something, at least.

and al haitham is intrigued.

he’s cautious and smart, certainly not a mindless brute like his colleagues. he chooses to watch you from afar, devises strategies and takes a copious amount of notes, analyzes your mannerisms and taps your conversations, like you’re some fascinating subject of study in a research thesis. he’s an observer, not a scientist; he doesn't participate in experiments, doesn't touch you directly, but he knows the insides of your head better than you….

…. until one day, he flunked and accidentally bumps into you.

you’re so distraught, trying to wipe the coffee stains on his white-colored collared shirt that’s now sporting a big brown stain. he tries to act like a normal citizen so he wouldn’t alarm that bodyguard of yours, who’s already scrutinizing him with the eyes of a trained killer. he tries to act that your touch isn’t sending shivers down his spine, that his face is slightly flushed from the hot coffee and not a close-up view of your worried face, that his heart isn’t beating because you’re actually talking to him.

he knows he shouldn’t, and he knows it’s stupid, but when you ask for his phone number so you can ‘make it up to him’ sometime, he gives you his personal number instead of all the burner phone numbers he has memorized in his head.

he asks himself when did he fall for you that night.

for the first time in his life, he couldn't find an answer.

if zhongli is one of the most feared bosses up there, ayato’s name is surely on the same list.

known publicly as the son of the minister of cultural affairs at first, he has since reclaimed the title of his father after an unfortunate accident and a short, temporary vacuum of the position. but what most people don't know is that the world of politics is ruthless these days. quite literally.

your existence was just a speck of dirt in his eyes. he could care less about whatever your grandfather did or knew. he’s seen countless of people fall and rise and run and fall to the depths of hell, what does it matter to him if you do?

- except, you seem to have unknowingly befriended his little sister, and one of his best agents seems to be hopelessly smitten with you?

hm. interesting.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #tw.blood #tw.gore #tw.stalking

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unhappy-last-resort · 1 month

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Yandere Lee drabble

Warnings: Stalking, obsessive behavior

A/N: Was listening to this when an idea came to mind and I wanted to write it down.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did it feel so good? Seeing you constantly look over your shoulder and how you'd ask him if he'd seen anyone watching you lately.

Oh god, at first it was just entertaining, but now it was exciting, almost pleasurable watching your every move every day and you had no idea! He didn't think he'd ever feel like this again as a construct- no, wait, he's never felt this fucking good in his entire life!

Lee clamped a hand over his face to stop any involuntary whimpers from coming out. His face felt hot and his heart was pounding, ah if only he could somehow stop that from happening in case someone caught him like this, most especially you.

What would you say if you saw a construct, your construct like this? Probably kick him out, or at least that's what he would do if he saw himself like this. He should stop, he really should, he knows he should, but you look so cute when you're confused and scared! When you ask him to stay by your side and watch over you because you're too scared of being left alone? Oh his mechanical body sings with pride.

He loves how it feels to watch you, he loves how you squirm when you're alone, he loves how you ask for his help with that look on your face, he loves it! He loves it all and he can't stop himself anymore!

To hell if this isn't good or normal! You'll still love him, right? You'll still love your Lee no matter what, right?

#unhappy drabbles #yandere lee #yandere lee pgr #yandere pgr #yandere punishing gray raven #male yandere #yandere lee x reader #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #tw stalking #tw.stalking #yandere stalker #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven #punishing: gray raven #punishing gray raven lee

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degenrcy · 8 months

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creepypasta dark headcanons (fem reader)

i have an insane amount of ideas rn and i cant make a million posts, tws: everything. you know who i am.

ticci toby: your creepy big brother, he really has changed since your older sister died or something. projects all his insecurities, anger, sadness, more anger, onto his remaining sister. bullies you at school and home, and things get even worse when he starts hanging with these new friends of his... a new knife collection that he loves to test on you, and with your shared 'interest' in cutting and self harm, it wasnt easy to avoid. better believe hes encouraging you to keep cutting, to express your sadness about your sister... but it actually just gets him really hard. when hes delusional hes the worst, he thinks your his girlfriend! silly toby, thats ur little sister!

ben: human incel/neet dude who smokes a lotta weed. he groomed you online and got you bad- spending infinite money on cosplays and other things to get you to do whatever he wants. ever since he met you online he grabbed your ip and began his cyberstalking. secret cameras and tapping into your computer's cam. he kidnaps you with the help of his friends, who all paid him to do whatever they wanted with you for a few hours before dropping you off in his basement.

jane: i dont see her as a romantic at all, more of a manipulator and probably very asexual. she wont admit it but is disgusted in her deformations and her past with jeff, but shes willing to teach you everything about being a man eater. literally. feeds you the good meat of the bad men she kills. get on her good side and understand her perspective (KAM) and you guys will be great lesbians in crime

ej: you literally have to be a cannibal to be with him. no exceptions. very stereotypical abuser bf, hes ripped asf under that hoodie because i mean human organs must have hella protein. he loves to wrap his arm around your frail neck and watch you flail until you finally pass out. his idea of finally breaking up with you is getting you knocked out, taking a few things (from organs to valuables, he totally steals) and using your body to get off, because you could never do anything right conscious. lol. snap a few pictures and blackmail you into still being with him anyways. he loves you!

jeff: big somno guy. (go to sleep!!!) he knows you cant stomach looking at him during intimate moments, on the rare occasion things ever get intimate. he shushes you back to sleep whenever you suddenly wake up to him sticking his dick inside you, having no other choice when you feel the cool blade of his knife against your skin anyways. also thinks your so adorable with the matching smile-cuts across your cheeks he helped you with. i think jeff is a romantic, in his own way.

#creepypasta dark fic #ticci toby/reader #jane the killer/reader #ben drowned/reader #jeff the killer/reader #eyeless jack/reader #tw.abuse #tw.grooming #tw.self harm #tw.somnophilia #tw.cannibalism #tw.stalking #twwwww

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angelkunimi · 2 years

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unhinged (m)

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader (+ ex!atsumu)

synopsis: even if you think justice has been served, you realise you’ll never be free from your stalker

warnings: 18+ only. yandere themes, stalking, PTSD, paranoia, anxiety, manipulation, trespassing, death threats, some making out, mild violence + blood, knife use, mentions of kidnapping, smoking, one instance of spitting

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first fic of this blog hooray! i hope you enjoy, it’s not that good but it’s my first time writing after so long so please enjoy :)

you never used to appreciate being able to breathe.

you do still breathe, of course you do- to exist. but breathing used to be so much easier back before, in that time that seemed lifetimes ago. now it’s uncomfortable. the ache deep in your chest, the tightness, the battering of your heart against your rib cage as you try to suck in those slow breaths, deep, slow, one count, two count, three…

smoking was probably the worst decision you could’ve made. but you need something to take the edge off, something just to make you feel bliss for just a few temporary bittersweet moments. of course, you can’t fully appreciate it. after the sun sets, your living room is hazy when you can only crack the window open a few inches, curtains still tightly drawn to protect you from the peers of the outside world, as you breathe out those grey dregs of smoke, the acrid taste hot on your tongue, tight in your chest, fingers trembling as you flick ash in the glass ashtray.

maybe you’re being pessimistic.

things could’ve gone so much more worse but it didn’t. you still have a decent job- an anonymous, quiet 9-5 lab job at some chemical plant down on the outskirts of the city. tall brick walls with barbed wire, security at each electric gate, fluorescent lights in the car park and a convenient parking spot for your car right by the door when you come in and leave your lab every morning and evening is just perfect. safety means perfect. and you’re getting better- you can go out by yourself now. you do the grocery shops and you treat yourself to coffees and just last week you made it to the edge of the park, breathing in the crisp cool autumn air, watching the chestnut and mustard leaves flutter to the rain-stained ground, listening to the breeze whistle. of course, you only ever go out during daylight- the winter months will be rougher but you’re certain you’ll be better then. you have to be.

after all, at least you’re not dead.

sanity seems like a privilege but you’re grateful for the things you still have, for the things he couldn’t snatch away amongst everything else.

atsumu is one of them.

he takes in a deep breath of anticipation before he digs into his food- warm, sticky rice, hot spicy soup, delicious dumplings, his cheeks bulging with the delicious feast laid all over your coffee table as the two of you lounge on the couch, catching up on your favourite netflix series together.

“i fuckin’ love food.” the blond man manages to chuckle with his mouth full, flecks of rice spitting out which makes you grimace as you shoot him a glare.

“don’t be so disgusting, tsumu.” he merely laughs, brown eyes merry as he continues to tuck in and you can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lip as you force an eye roll.

“now ya just sound like-” he cuts off when you stiffen and his face becomes solemn as he realises the words falling out of his mouth. he clears his throat as he puts down his plate of food, the porcelain clattering against the wood but you avoid his eyes, staring straight ahead at the television.

“i’m sorry-”

“no.” you cough slightly. “it’s okay- just a mistake. let’s not talk about it.”

“y/n-” you get up abruptly, pushing away your untouched food in favour of your cigarettes. marlboro red. he exhales heavily, watching you light up the stick between your fingers. “i think we need to talk about this.”

you lock eyes with his brown ones and it makes your chest twinge as you see the seriousness in them. it makes you angry really, more angry than sad. he stole so much from you- he stole your happiness, your home, your friends and family, your life! he stole you from you, leaving you an empty shell. and he stole your love. the one true love you had. you’re grateful for atsumu to still be here, to still be your friend and still hang out with you and help you and that he’ll still drive to your house in the middle of the night when you have a panic attack even if he has practise at 6am but it’s not the same. all because of him.

“okay.” you mumble, tapping your cigarette on the edge of the tray and watching the ash fall. “fine. what?” atsumu’s dark brows tug together as he studies you carefully.

“so, yer know he’s gettin’ out? the courts wrote to ya, didn’t they?” a smile stretches across your face as you chuckle mirthlessly.

“oh yeah, they wrote to me. good behaviour.” you shake your head, laughing. “what am i supposed to say? yeah, i’m completely okay. i’m not terrified. i’m not angry. i haven’t had my whole life destroyed, like nothing ever happened! like i can still sleep more than just a few hours a night and i don’t have nightmares and i can go out and live a normal life because everything is fucking okay.” you’re trembling, eyes wet as you take a long drag of your cigarette, an empty smile stretched across your face as atsumu just stares at you.

a low swear falls from his lips as he reaches a hand out, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i really am, i wish- yer didn’t deserve any of it.” he shakes his head, blond locks falling into his eyes. “and ya know, it feels like it was all my fault. if only i hadn’t introduced yer to him, if only i hadn’t tried to make yer be friends with him, if only i had set proper boundaries and ya know, knocked some sense into him when he started gettin’ all weird-”

“no, no, not at all.” you smile as you grasp atsumu’s hand, running your thumb along his knuckles. “you know it’s not your fault- how were you supposed to know? it wasn’t your fault, it isn’t mine. it’s not anyone’s but- but sakusa’s.”

you grimace at the bitterness of his name before sighing heavily, stubbing out your cigarette as you reach for your plate of food. but you don’t eat, because nothing really tastes all that nice anymore.

“he’ll be on probation, ya know? and he has a restrainin’ order so you’ll be okay. i don’t think he’ll even dare violate it, not if he knows what’s good for him.” you nod at atsumu’s comforting words, trying to let them seep in, trying to believe it’ll all be okay.

“is he rejoining the team?” the blond man shakes his head.

“nah, too much bad publicity for the owners. he’ll probably stay lowkey for the first few months and probably sign to a new team when the media have turned away their attention. but-” he looks at you earnestly. “i promise ya, no matter what he tries, ya know i won’t let him contact ya. as for shoyo and kōtarō, i can’t speak for them but they won’t tell him anythin’- i know they won’t.” you return atsumu’s smile, nodding.

“yeah. it’ll be okay. i’ll be okay.”

you don’t go to work the day he gets released.

you probably should, it’d be better to move on with your life but you can’t set foot outside your house. cctv and doorbell camera on, windows locked, hallway light on to check for footsteps under the door, phone fully charged, thumb hovering over the emergency call icon. social media is no good for you- you feel new again to it, now that you’ve only just made accounts again- but trending hashtags, videos, headlines, all his name.

you’re embarrassed at how you start just when your phone vibrates, your thudding heart slowing when you read atsumu’s familiar name flashing across your screen.

u ok? :))

you smile as you type out a response and with a heavy sigh, you collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

you’re going to be okay.

the first time it happens you think you’re going insane.

a cup of coffee. on the countertop.

you’re hyperventilating in your kitchen, trembling and shaking. coffee. cup. countertop. your knees feel weak, chest aching as your body rushes with adrenaline, head spinning. you’re crying as you’re pulling out your phone. words barely choke out with breathlessness, a long knife clutched in your hand as you sink to the cold tile floors, hoping you don’t die tonight.

and you don’t. you and atsumu stand in your kitchen, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as the detectives finally return to you.

“ma’am, everything’s good.” the first detective, an older man with a thick moustache says. “we’ve sweeped the house- windows and doors are all locked. nobody’s been in here.”

“are you sure?” your cheeks are wet with tears as you stare at the two detectives, pleading.

“y/n-” atsumu’s voice is a little whisper and you try not to flinch.

“ma’am,” the detective sounds frustrated. “we’ve checked. nobody is in here. nobody has entered your home.”

“miss,” the second detective is a woman, a sweet one with a tender smile that makes you feel heard, somewhat understood. “we understand your fears, honestly we do. but you are safe, i assure you. all your windows and doors are locked, nothing has any sign of forced entry, nothing missing. this is just your own coffee mug. you are okay.”

you exhale heavily, forcing a nod as your head begins to ache and atsumu apologises as he leads the detectives to the door. you can hear them mutter in low, hushed voices in the hallway before atsumu apologises a final time for the total waste of their time and they leave. the door locks, one click, two click of the two keyholes, latch on, chain sliding against the wood.

you don’t meet atsumu’s eyes when he walks back into the kitchen, a heavy sigh escaping him. you’re tired, you feel stupid and sheepish, you don’t need this but that doesn’t stop him.

“what the hell is wrong with ya?” it would’ve been better if he had yelled at you, not used that tone of disbelief, of disgust, of embarrassment. “callin’ the police- and me- because yer couldn’t remember ya had a cup of coffee?”

“no, atsumu, i thought-”

“i know what ya thought!” he cuts you off with indignation, rolling his eyes heavily as his fingers curl up into fists. “but come on! if he was standin’ here right in your kitchen i’d understand but a fuckin’ cup?” he shakes his head as you feel your shoulders curl, your eyes falling onto the tile floor. “i was on a date tonight.” your throat goes dry as he rubs at the crease between his brows. your chest is heavy. “she was really nice, we were havin’ a good time and just when i thought i was actually gettin’ somewhere, my ex is callin’ me up because she’s runnin’ around the house with a knife, going crazy and senile over a fuckin’ cup of coffee she couldn’t remember drinkin’.” you gasp at his words, breathless and it stings.

crazy.

he thinks you’re crazy.

“i know what he did to you, i get it but for god’s sake, y/n, can’t ya even try to get over it? i am always here for ya! all the damn time! i don’t even know if yer want to try to have a normal life again but i definitely do.”

“i’m sorry.” atsumu just glares at you, your futile apology nothing to him.

“whatever.” he mutters as he tugs off his jacket. “lock the door after i leave and just go to sleep, for fuck’s sake.”

you and atsumu don’t talk much after that.

he doesn’t bother messaging you much and you can’t blame him. after all, after everything that happened he was the only one who ever stuck around. not that you were resentful towards your old friends and family- who would want to stick around with you after everything that happened? the screaming and crying, anxiety fits in the middle of the streets, paranoid phone calls and accusations at 3am.

it’s empty and it’s hard. you continue going to work but it’s nerve-wracking. you wake up groggy and peer out of the windows before you even dare step out of the house. you check the back seats of your car, the boot, you test the brakes before you even set off to work. grocery shopping, coffee runs, anything for necessity or leisure is pushed away- your head just spins, blood pounds in your ears, your chest hurts and you feel like you’re going to be nauseous anytime you go out.

the worst thing is, you really thought the cup of coffee was a mistake.

but it only gets worse.

sometimes it’s little things. you’re trying to sleep in the middle of the night but you’re disturbed by the bright yellow light of your motion sensor security light flashing, illuminating your bedroom through your curtains. the first time you force yourself to breathe. stray cats, squirrels, foxes- all reasonable explanations. but it happens the second time. a third. and by then you’re shaking, trying to hold back the heavy breaths choked in your throat as you scramble for your phone, finger hovering over the dial icon. but atsumu’s words ring in your ears and you force yourself to breathe slow counts, just like the therapist taught you, just like you’ve rehearsed with atsumu. one breath, two breath, three…

when you get the courage to creep towards the window nothing seems out of the ordinary. but you can’t seem to quell the disturbing ache of nausea in the pit of your stomach when you see the rose bushes rustling in the still night.

a missing hairbrush you can’t seem to remember where you put. your underwear collection seems to be getting smaller. you don’t know how you’ve been going through your snack cupboard so quickly.

you can’t say you’re not scared- of course you are. you barely sleep, eyes wide staring at the light flooding beneath your door, just terrified of the dark shadows of footsteps that might just appear. the motion sensor lights flashes more often these nights. but you also feel stupid, your cheeks feeling hot and shame prickling your skin every time you remember atsumu’s harsh snarls, the bitterness in his eyes and that’s when you sigh heavily, sliding the knife out from under your pillow and slipping it into your bedside cabinet instead. sakusa stole your life, but did that mean you’d have to steal atsumu’s too?

if only you had listened to yourself.

you don’t hear anything. not over the sound of the blender whirring your evening smoothie. banana. frozen raspberries. milk. syrup. chia seeds.

but it stops abruptly and you gasp when you feel it. the sharpness, the icy coolness of the tip of the knife edging into the back of your neck.

it’s like your heart stops. blood runs cold, your heart hammering and the nausea of adrenaline flooding your system is overpowering as you tremble, trapped between him and the kitchen island.

“don’t scream.”

you could never forget his voice. that deep, soft murmur that haunts your nightmares. you don’t think you could scream even if you wanted to.

“phone?”

you swallow as you pick your phone off the countertop, sliding it across to which he quickly grabs it. his hands are pale, green veins popping and knuckles bruised.

“look at me.”

you turn around slowly, heart hammering. black obsidian eyes, dark curls, that stoic expression painting his handsome face- everything you wished you could forget.

you stare at each other for a moment and he takes in everything so carefully, his eyes travelling over ever inch of you and you’re sure he’s committing everything to memory, relishing every single moment of this nightmare.

“y/n.” you hate how he breathes your name, like it’s a glorious prayer to him, like it’s not curses to you.

“what are you doing here?” you can only whisper, a timid cracked whisper. but sakusa doesn’t reply- instead he just pulls you into his arms and you’re trembling as you’re stuck in his grip, hating the feeling of his hands squeezing you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling in your smell, his warmth suffocating you.

but then he pulls away and you see how his jaw clenches, how his fist tightens around the knife and your stomach drops when you realise it’s the same damn knife stuffed in your bedside cabinet. how long?

“i want a cup of coffee.”

the cup clatters when you put it down on the kitchen table, sakusa sat comfortably at it, legs outstretched, eyes fixated on you and the knife held readily in his hands. he sighs when he takes a sip and then with a tap of the knife, he indicates for you to sit beside him.

“your coffee tastes better than mine.” your hands curl into fists at his mutter- how stupid. you should’ve known- you shouldn’t had been so easily convinced by the stupid detectives and atsumu- they underestimated him, they ignored you- he told you you were crazy but you were right. all along. and now…

“please.” you whisper. “just leave. nobody will know and we can-” he cuts you off with a sharp tsk and clatters the knife against the table, shutting you up as you flinch.

“y/n, you sent me to prison.” he begins, lip curling with venom. “and you know, the one thing worse than not being able to see you was that hell. dirty. unsanitary. full of animals.” he shakes his head, curls falling into his dark eyes. “locked up there, every single day the fucking same…because of you.” he gazes at you heavily. “just because i loved you.”

you’re not sure what to say, the pressure under knife point too heavily as you swallow hard.

“so are you here for revenge then? is that it? are you going to kill me?” sakusa smiles, evidently amused, as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“i’m not that petty. sure, you made me lose everything- my family, friends, my career, freedom.” you want to yell at him. call him a selfish cunt and tell him he deserves everything, and so much worse, for the relentless torment he’s caused you. but you don’t. you thought everything would be so much more different if you ever had to face him again, but it isn’t. you’re just still terrified. “but no, i’m not going to kill you. i want you to give me a bath instead.”

you’re bewildered at his request. it feels like some sort of fucked up play when you guide him upstairs, painfully reminded by the knife edging into your back not to pull anything funny. he holds it the entire time, the whole time you run the bath, swatting the water steadily filling up the tub and asking him for his optimum temperature, asking him whether he’d like usual epsom salts or lavender, offering him a towel. and you’re forced to watch him undress, cringing as you have to see him peel off his clothes, revealing his pale body underneath, that bulky body rippled with muscles that just stands as a reminder of how much bigger, stronger, powerful he is than you.

sakusa groans as he sinks into the water, his eyes falling heavy as his body relaxes. you’re kneeling by the side, hands gripping the edge of the cold porcelain bathtub, holding your breath as you can’t even comprehend the situation. it’d almost be so comical at how fucked up it is, at how fucked up sakusa is forcing you into this disgusting thing. his head falls back against the tub and his lids are heavy as he gazes at you.

“this is a luxury you don’t get in prison. imagine what it’s like, hundreds of men lining up at one time, short two minute showers, grimy cubicles without a single bit of privacy.” he gives a humourless smile. “that’s what i had to put up with. because of you.” you’re stunned when he spits at you, a harsh, nasty spit full of venom and you gasp as you fall back, gingerly touching the horrible wet saliva splattered across your face. your face crumples and you want to cry, but your damn body just can’t react, just won’t react, not with the shock and fear pulsating through you.

“you got put away because you hurt me.” it’s the quietest whisper and sakusa gasps when he suddenly scrambles up, water splashing and he’s grabbing your face, cheeks squishing between his hands as he tugs you close. it’s a shock to see him like this, such an antithesis to the calm collected man you thought you knew when his eyes are flashing and manic.

“i love you. i never wanted to hurt you, damn it.” it’s starting to ache, how his calloused fingers press into your tender skin.

“i was with atsumu!” he tuts as he pushes you away, vein throbbing in his forehead as his hands curl into fists.

“you really think that blond idiot cares about you? like i do?”

the words strike something in you and suddenly you’re extending a gentle hand, fingertips grazing along his forearm.

“i’m sorry, kiyoomi. you’re right.” he shoots you a piercing glare, heavy brow raised as he scoffs.

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“no!” your cry is permeated with earnestness. “you are right- atsumu doesn’t care.” you give a mirthless chuckle. “he thinks i’m crazy, annoying, i’m a nuisance to him really. but you,” you circle your fingers around his hand, the other gripping the knife tighter. you hope he doesn’t notice your trembling. “you went to prison for me, kiyoomi.”

he’s thinking hard as he stares down at your entwined fingers but you know it’s not enough. so you take the gamble and cup his face, smashing your lips against his.

he tastes of brandy and salt but his skin is warm and smooth under your fingertips- you could almost pretend this would’ve been nice in a different universe. you kiss him, heavy and hard and your heart hammers when he returns it, groaning against your lips as his hand slides into your hair, tugging to deepen the kiss. it’s hot, heavy, his tongue sliding into your mouth, saliva wet and messy. he swallows your moans as he licks messily into your mouth, water splashing as his body squirms, begging to be closer to you as you thread your fingers through his hair.

“fuck, y/n-” he pants heavily in between wet messy kisses pressed to your lips as he rests his clammy forehead against yours.

“kiyoomi, i want you. but please,” you whimper as you stare into his depthless eyes. “please put the knife down. i promise i’ll be good.” sakusa doesn't look entirely convinced but you’re relieved when he finally puts it down on the bedside cabinet when he follows you into the bedroom. your body is brimming with adrenaline when he lies down along your bed, his skin glistening with dampness as you take a deep breath and edge towards him.

“this is all i’ve wanted, y/n. we could’ve had this so much easier if you had just listened. if you hadn't been so stupid.” he mutters almost mournfully as you slowly unbutton your shirt, letting the cotton fabric slip off your shoulders to reveal your chest clad in a pink bra. but sakusa doesn’t mind the simplicity of your underwear, even groaning at the sight of your panties hugging your cunt when you slip off your jeans. “come here.”

he pulls you onto his lap and you try not to flinch at the feeling of his half hard dick pressing against your pussy, only a thin layer of fabric separating you both. he’s hungry as he kisses you, one hand gripping your hair tight, the other groping your chest, your ass, stroking your hips, any skin he can grasp. you kiss back with fervour, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, hips rocking gently against him, swallowing his moans. you’re waiting, kissing, waiting for the perfect moment…then…

you bite. hard. sakusa swears when he pushes you away roughly, his face screwed with anger and disgust as red blood seeps from his lips. but you’re prepared, your clammy hand locking around the knife and you scream when you slash it towards him. panic bubbles in you and damn him, he’s quick- he’s rough when he shoves you back, a hand stretching out as protection against the knife. you aim desperately, every bit of anger and resentment and fear and hatred brewing in you surging through the screams and swears but you’re just too weak and the best you can get is a slash across his hand.

“you bitch!” he yells, voice deep and gruff and it terrifies you, the fire dancing in his eyes as he clutches his bloody palm, crimson oozing from porcelain skin.

but that’s bought you enough time and you rush away quickly, your bedroom door slamming behind you as you scramble downstairs. you’re frantic- kiyoomi’s screams and threats resonate through the house as you hear him storm upstairs into the bathroom and you’re trembling with fear- fuck why won’t your hands just work? you’re scrambling for the house keys- were they in the living room? your purse? in the tray of marbles?

“fuck fuck fuck-” you’re almost crying as you sweep your hand across the entire cabinet top, vases and candles smashing to the floor and marbles scattering across the entire floor but then you find them, those silver keys you grab, grateful for the sharp cool metal pressing into your skin as you run to the front door.

“i am going to kill you, you stupid bitch.” kiyoomi’s footsteps are heavy upstairs as you scramble to fit the keys into the lock, hands shaking as they just won’t seem to fit in and you’re sobbing, screaming at yourself to get out.

you can hear him across the landing, getting to the top of the stairs- the floorboards creak and you’ve only just got the locks open when the door swings open and-

relief floods you when you lock eyes with brown orbs and you’re a sobbing, shaking mess when you collapse into atsumu’s arms, clinging to him, gasping and clinging to his t-shirt as he holds you.

“he’s here- atsumu- he’s here- he’s going to kill me!” atsumu’s bewildered as he holds your face, wiping away the stream of tears and you’re exasperated at how he smiles, almost amused.

“what are you talking about, y/n?” he chuckles and you shake your head, gasping as you try to scramble away, run away into the darkness- anywhere, just not here.

“he’s here! we have to call the police.”

atsumu’s still smiling and suddenly his hold on you feels tighter. your heart feels like lead when sakusa’s footsteps reach the end step and he’s stood in the hallway, bloody hand gripping the knife, crimson running down his chin as he smiles, shirtless in just his joggers.

“miya atsumu.” his voice is a low drawl.

“atsumu!” you’re wailing with desperation, trying to fight out of the blond’s grip but he’s too strong, holding you tight against him as he continues to smile.

“relax, y/n- he won’t kill you. goodness, omi-kun- i told you i’d help you take her home, why did you start without me?”

#tw.stalking #tw.yandere #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagines #sakusa fic #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi fic #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #tw.kidnapping

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hiimerick · 3 months

Text

Soo last time on the forbbiden archive Gerry from the chemistry department be stalkin yet again

#hi im erick #my oc stuff #original character #art #doodle #my ocs art #tw.stalking

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cythena · 2 years

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I never did like Thoma for some reason- he’s perfect for no reason, and then it got me thinking.

The reader who can barely stand Thoma and the ‘nice guy’ act he puts on. Thoma begins to try and ‘win’ the reader over with nice gesture before realizing that he’s becoming more and more obsessed.

I just wanna corrupt Thoma in the best way possible 💀

10:15

cw/tw: yandere, stalking, i love anyone from this side of the fandom

in the beginning it’s just him trying to avoid trouble. he runs a couple errands, petsits, makes deliveries. it works out for him so that’s why he does it. you see right through him and keep your distance. however, with your family being prominent figures in inazuma and important contacts to the yashiro commission, it was only a matter of time before you would be forced to appear at the kamisato estate.

when you did, thoma felt like his whole world shifted. he introduced himself at the gate and led you to the main room. he stayed by ayato staring at you with a smile. he admired your beauty. when you were excused by your parents, he offered to bring refreshments and clean up around the estate. you were seated in the garden watching the waves over the cliff. “excuse me, lady y/n?” he called. you barely gave him a glance.

“hello.”

“would you like anything to drink, or are you hungry? i can prepare anything you could-”

“no thank you. i’m quite alright, please continue your planned duties.” oh. were you just shy? that’s fine. maybe next time.

thoma continued to treat you kindly, quickly getting on your last nerve. he would offer to take care of your shopping, invite you to meet taromaru, take you out to the suburbs or forest. he saw you reading one day at the estate, you also seemed to read a lot in your room at night. princesses need their beauty sleep but you become more beautiful by the second. whenever he sees you, he brings you flowers or some dessert he “just happened to have made.”

but you always turn them down :( why? are you not interested in him? why are you still so shy? he just wanted to get close to you. he tried so hard and you always rejected him. it was starting to get old. any girl would have fallen head over heels for him already. he knew he had to be a little attractive to you and he was so nice. your parents liked him too. the only problem is his status. was that it? he was just a housekeeper. he wasn’t like ayato, if only he had a better title.

why do you have to be so difficult? just admit you love him back. he’s getting tired of this. he tries so hard to get your attention.why won’t you love him back? he really can’t take it anymore.

#anime #genshin impact #manga #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere thoma #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #thomas the train #tw.yandere #tw.stalking #♡ ⌢ ₊　cy. writes #♡ ⌢ ₊　cy. answers

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ofallthingsnasty · 2 years

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🔫🐛 hand over the kazutora headcanons (please) ((if you want)) ((you're the best))

oh no an armed caterpillar 😳 okay, okay you can have them all- seriously, what the fuck you can't just be so ridiculously cute in my inbox 😭💕 tw.yandere, stalking, noncon mention, physical abuse, minors dni

Personally I think having him as a yandere is very tough - he’s definitely not a death sentence like Sanzu - but he’ll force himself on you. I know some people on here write him as pretty subby (and as always, not trying to knock anyone’s interpretation) and while I can see where that’s coming from, I can’t quite write him like that. He was just a kid when he killed Baji and he has mellowed out tremendously, sure, but I think he’d have a hard time giving up old habits. Not saying that he’d break your legs the moment you get together but I do think he’s still highkey delusional. Personally I love the idea of you knowing each other back when he got out of juvie (or even earlier, like childhood friends-ish) and him not being able to let go of his feelings for you. We know from the Bonten timeline that he still wants to do right by Mikey and wants to help him - I think if you two were together way back then (even for that really short amount of time), he couldn’t quite let you go. He thinks he can make it up to you (whether that’s all the abuse he subjected you to ten, twelve years ago or the emotional pain from killing someone). If he meets you for the first time after getting out I think he’d see you as a blank slate, a fresh start. He probably keeps his past a secret as best as he can- whether or not that’d be successful is up to you haha

No matter how you meet, he’s a stalker. He has learned to be a little bit more subtle after all these years and he definitely tries to learn a little more about yourself before doing anything rash. Not the type to climb through your window and steal your panties - but definitely the type to follow you home after work, to hang around your favorite places be it restaurants, parks, shops... He has learned to wait for his turnand he isn’t impatient. On the other hand I don’t think he’d try to woo you traditionally. Don’t expect him to chat you up while you’re sitting on a park bench. You’ll just wake up in the middle of the night and he’s there, standing at the end of your bed ♡

He’d probably put you on a pedestal at first - but he still won’t listen to you when you tell him no. Very intend on living his perfect little life with you - and any mention of you leaving will be met with violence, so you better learn to play house with him. I don’t think he’s the basement wife type (at least at first)- basement wifery would only ensue after severe wrong-doings on your part, but even then I think he’d be willing to let you out again. Bonten Kazutora may still have a sadistic core but he also wants to see you happy- and everyone needs a little sunlight from time to time, right? He may not be the worst yandere (because he genuinely wants to make it work with you and grow old together) but he’s close... Kazutora absolutely is the domestic violence king. Maybe he’ll grow out of out after you’ve been ‘together’ for a couple of years but you’ll always be afraid of making him angry.

#ask #anon #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #tw.yandere #tw.stalking #worst yan title is still held by sanzu bc he'd just up and sh00t you one day #oh well....#i think he's a weird little dude #very contradictory #like he wants to have this perfect home life and to be together forever but he also doesn't listen and hit you... yikes

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nkogneatho · 2 years

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I iust realized I'm being stalked.

This man that works nearby where I live has been following me but I thought it was just my overthinking. Until now he is making a stop exactly where I am and he even sings these ridiculous songs. I am to ignoring him but I am genuinely scared.

#tw.stalking #I want to bang his head on this pole #pasi.txt

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zhongrin · 1 year

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Rin I am worried about you as there is a package made for you and checked to see if it was a bomb but It turns out it was a message in blood. The message "I know what you did to her. "I also remember that Albedo had his twin. That twin was found naked in a bush while I had a weird feeling like I was being stalked when I bringing him in. I got him inside and checked and asked if he was okay and he was passed out. I checked to see if he was drunk or not turns out he was really drunk and was drugged. I am worried there might be a serial killer after you.

w-what? what does that message mean? and it was addressed to me?? but i... i've never hurt someone, i swear! who is 'her'? and a what is after me?!??

i'm so confused and i-

........ i need to lie down.....

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: 2broschlininahotub #rin plays ebg #minors dni #tw.stalking #tw.blood #tw.gore #tw.drugs

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unhappy-last-resort · 5 days

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Counting Minutes (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: Implied stalking, unstable grip on reality, bombing threat, abandonment issues, non consensual touching (basically a strip search, not in a sexy way)

A/N: Finally working through my drafts.

Status: not edited

Where. The fuck. Are you?

Roland glowered at the digital clock on the wall the numbers 7:30 glowing into the dim room. Usually you'd have been here by now, tactical terminal in one hand and coffee in the other, but you're late.

Everything was already a drag when you weren't around to tease or observe, even more so since he had to sneak onto Babylonia and absolutely can't be found out so he's forced to stay within a more abandoned area of Babylonia.

He already fears that he may have alerted Lee on accident when he was exiting your room earlier this morning. What the hell was that bastard doing outside your room so early anyway? Did Lee also have a habit of watching his Commandant sleep, or was he suspicious of his presence? Roland heaved a sigh, honestly, you should be honored by his presence here, he wouldn't endure Babylonia and their lackeys just for anyone. The only thing that makes all his efforts worth it is you. Being able to hear you, touch you, watch you, see you, being able to confirm that you're real. That he's not lost himself to an insanity so intense he's hallucinating everything, that a camera crew won't jump out somewhere.

"Roland, Roland, Roland...how naive you are." Roland tenses at the familiar voice. Of all things, he doesn't want to have this talk now.

"Whatever do you mean, my dear Hermano?" Roland responds with a languidness that they all know is merely preformative as he slowly leans onto the wall behind him and casts a side glance at the door. Just come here already, what's taking you so long? Did you sleep late? Are you in a meeting? Are you...

Hermano bursts into a small fit of laughter. The sound irritates the edges of his M.I.N.D. "Of course they'd sell you out! Why wouldn't they? You're enemies after all, they were always going to abandon you in the end."

Roland's fists clench, anger coming over him so strongly it's almost shocking to him. No, no, no, no! You can't, you wouldn't! You would never do such a thing! You were too loyal to those morals of yours to back stab him like this, but... if you did, would it truly be such a surprise? Would it be that shocking if you did? After all, capturing him would give you a great amount of fame and power in Babylonia. Slowly, his hand reaches down to his coat pocket, the familiar square shape of that small remote in his palm as the room starts to feel almost suffocating.

Roland stills suddenly and he smiles, a chilling clarity surging through his M.I.N.D. like a tidal wave clearing away the filth. Well, then...if you're going to betray him like this, he slowly brings the remote out of his pocket and holds it to his face as his smile widens. Then no one will be opposed to him setting off the bomb he put in Babylonia's engine systems, no? To be fair, he has warned you a number of times to not betray him. Whether you understood them or not, well, that's not his problem now is it?

His thumb brushes over the detonation button in contemplation. Yes, he may as well before he gets caught and used for Babylonia's- click.

His breath hitches and his eyes immediately stare at the door, pointedly ignoring Hermano's scoff. Could it be that you've finally returned to him? His mechanical heart thrums at the thought, his grip on the remote becoming shaky and weak as seconds turn into hours. Would the door open to you, or an army? Will you betray him like everyone else, or will you stay? He hated to admit it, but he was desperate that it was the latter, he was desperate for something- someone that wouldn't abandon him and leave him floundering in an endless sea of regrets.

If fate was listening, grant him this one thing and let it please be you, please be you, please be-

The door opens to you, with your tactical terminal in one hand and fresh coffee in the other, just like how you look every morning, you're too busy studying your terminal to notice how your entrance has shifted every star in the universe back to their place and made everything right again. You're here, you're here at last in this little side room you've made your temporary office, you're here with him where you belong and you're real...you're real, right?

His body starts moving before he can stop himself, his breath lodged in his throat. He has to know, he has to confirm you are what you say you are and not just a cheap copy made by some invisible puppeteer. He yanks the terminal out of your hand, knocks your coffee away and drags you to him, terminal clattering to the floor and the mug shattering just after it, spreading coffee and ceramic everywhere as you voice your confusion. He wraps his arms around you tightly, too tightly, his hands moving all over your body, needing to confirm that you are made of flesh and bone as you claim. He slips his hands under your shirt to squeeze at your ribs, pushing just enough at the bone to feel it give slightly as it should, he buries his face in your hair and neck to make sure you smell the same way you should, he prys your mouth open to shove his fingers inside and thoroughly check your mouth for anything that might feel synthetic or mechanical, he shoves you against a wall so he can put his ear against your chest to count your heart beats, all these checks and more he conducts not even so much as responding to your cries for him to stop, opting to clamp a hand over your mouth when you become noisy enough to distract him.

After an hour of invasive and painful poking, he finally feels certain that you're human and real, with a sigh he lets you go and relaxes. Roland stares at you for a moment, observing your disheveled appearance, emotion absent from his face. Your commandant attire has been thoroughly picked apart. Your navy blue turtleneck is wrinkled and pulled unnaturally in several directions, the beige coat having been discarded long ago, your buckle is probably somewhere on the floor behind him, the fly of your pants hanging open. If he wasn't so upset with you he'd help put you together again. "Don't be late like this again." He mutters coldly before turning to stand at his usual spot beside your makeshift desk, leaving your dumbfounded and agitated expression behind.

For a few seconds, there's silence. The anger radiating from you is palpable in the air. "What the fuck are you talking about? Late?It's 6 AM? If anything I'm late because of you and your freakish strip search." Roland freezes in his place. Six? But that would mean when you arrived it was five.

Seeing his confusion you grumble and walk up to him, shoving your watch in his face with a look of disdain. The LED numbers stare back at him coldly.

6:04 AM.

Your expression remains unimpressed at his stunned countenance. Dropping your wrist you glance at the clock on the wall. "The clock in here is broken, that's why I started wearing my watch again."

You were indeed, not late. For the first time in a very long while, Roland feels humiliated. He even almost apologizes to you before stopping himself. If a simple misunderstanding is enough to break him, then he might as well give you another warning. A wide grin quickly replaces whatever apology he was going to say before.

"Well then, little rabbit of mine," Roland leans down towards you, his tone was taunting but a glance at his eyes would tell you the true weight of his words. "You'd better make sure you don't keep the wolf waiting for too long. Who knows what might happen if you leave a hungry wolf unattended."

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degenrcy · 19 days

Text

jeff da killa puts you to sleep ->

warnings: rape, blood, death, stalker, he totally loves you

link to ao3 if you want to read as i update, because who knows when or what i'll post on here!

a calm summer night. fresh sheets and a new pajama set. you lotioned up well, did your skincare, put up your hair securely after its own special treatment. a 3-wick vanilla scented candle filling up your room, soft music playing from your open laptop.

you slipped your panties on after sliding off your towel, showing off to the laptop and potential dark web perverts watching you through your tapped camera... just kidding! that stuff wasn't even real, who cares, nothing bad has happened to you ever anyways.

you were perfect; smooth and clean, smelled like a girl, looked like a girl, you probably felt like a girl. you were mesmerizing, clueless, naive, dumb, stupid, stupid, stupid bitch. a dumb, fucking idiot who left their window open on this calm summer night. multiple windows, just in case a possible intruder murderer rapist burglar wanted to do a house tour before intruding murdering raping raping again and robbing you.

i guess girls stay up late too, the light of your phone dulling out the shape of your face. expressionless, smooth cheeks, no longer smiling. just scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. one day you'll find the one- the perfect video to wrap up the night. not tonight.

boots touched down in your bathroom, mirror still foggy with products lined up on the sink waiting to be properly closed and put away. you were messy, lazy. you buy all these things, but don't have a place for them. you're useless.

he pondered the thought of flickering the bathroom lights. getting your attention. stabbing you through the shower curtain. it wasn't fun like that. this was going to be fun.

not much decoration for a girl like you. there's a dedicated board with pictures of friends and maybe some other meaningful sentimental items. he ripped off a photo booth picture of you to stash in his wallet and show you off to his friends... right. if he could smile anymore, he could. he wanted. he was.

slow calculated, heavy steps closer to your room. the vanilla and coconut and strawberry and burnt hair from the dryer wafted through the air. it was adorable, you trying to be so many kinds of girls at once... but there you were, in all your glory. natural state, relaxed, no performance in sight. his eyes widened at the sight-

girl. bra-shirt. pink. shorts. panties under shorts? alone. looking at phone, headphones, perfect. wait, even better, you tossed and turned a couple times before finally settling on showing your bare back to him. ass.

he slipped through, caressing the blade in his pocket. his fingertips twitched against the sharp side, edging closer and closer to nicking himself. but that would hurt. that's why he does it to others.

he watched your phone with you for a while, the mass amounts of content you ingest at once and switching through the same 3 apps was bound to drive you insane at some point. no wonder you haven't fallen asleep yet. ah, your ass jiggled a little. nice.

you couldn't even scream when he finally pounced on you, perma-crazed eyes forcibly locking onto your fear-filled ones. cold against your throat. pressure on your stomach holding you down. smooth, smooth, silky smooth skin. his fingers were disgusting against your mouth and nose, no more vanilla-coconut but dirt-blood-disgusting-horrible-oh-my-god-howdidyougetinherepleasedontkillmeohmygod

he was just gonna help you fall asleep!

"lift up your shirt." he commanded, twirling around the very used knife in front of you, leaning back to let you move. this is where you scream, attract your roommates and neighbors- oh wait thats right you're alone and he would've killed everyone else in the place and look at that, whimpering and lifting up your shirt. tiiiiits.

your phone buzzed with a text message, briefly lighting up the room. his face now dimly lit, and your face was completely disgusted. now you hurt his ego, so you were really gonna get it.

he twirled the knife back into his grip, stabbing through your precious phone. his free hand found its spot back at your jaw, gripping tightly until your cheeks smushed together and dug into your gums. he stared, unblinking, lowering the knife closer to your warm skin. he wanted to crawl inside you, burrow himself in your ribs, feel your womanly-warmth all the time and have you coddle him and rock him around while you walked around.

"take off everything now, slut."

you shook like a newborn deer taking its first steps and he was the obsessed hunter growing his collection of cute deer heads on his wall. he hummed in satisfaction as you peeled away your soft panties, trying to cover up and slow the process as much as possible. jokes on you, he loved a strip tease.

his knife tapped your knee, mouthing "open. up." silently, smooth shiny legs parting open for him. the flat of the blade rode up your thigh, your frail hands daring to try and stop him. a quick turn of his wrist and slice the first little baby cat scratch stretched across your bare thigh. your lips trembled underneath his fingers, tears welling in your eyes. you took it like a champ!

he let the blood soak up the blade as much as possible, giggling to himself at how sick you looked and how you writhed under his weight when he rubbed it into your face. he made a smile on your face with your own leg-blood. he licked your face, laughing even more as you cried. he spit on the knife, a bloody gob dripping down the length of it, then slid it down to your cunt. his heart swelled at your body freezing up, tensing, preparing for the worst. no no no, he wasn't cruel, not a monster.

"don't move," he huffed, undoing his pants as quick as possible and finally freeing his dick from its constraints. he rubbed the knife on himself, grabbing your wrists with on hand, holding them above your shaking-no head. no-no-no, side to side. "go on, beg me not to."

"p-please," you obliged. "anything but this, please, i-i don't know what you want..."

he rolled his eyes- heard it all before. he wiggled his way inside you, being as scared as you were made it a tight fit. it always did. he loved it.

you gave in so easily, you weren't even trying to kick him, what a little fucking whore. the nerve to make it seem like you didn't want it, hilarious.

he slashed your beauty a few more times, letting it trickle down your sides and into the bed sheets. he rubbed it all over your chest and stomach and face, tonguing your mouth with iron-taste filth and cigarette residual. you were getting quieter as he moved his hips faster, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling instead of the hideous creature inside you right now. he understood, the bodys way of coping and all.

he could let go of your hands now, they remained above your head anyways. phone out, flash on, record. in another life jeff would've loved to be an amateur pornstar. he got the best angles to watch his dick slipping inside you, blood inside and out and all over, it was fucking hot. he closed in on your face, the flash forcing your eyes closed and mind back to earth.

"n-no, please, don't." you only could cry, single word demands fall on fully hearing ears that didn't give a shit. he dug the knife into your face, ripping a scream finaaalllyyyy from that pretty throat. he tore a smile across your face, pushing himself to cum as deep inside you as he could. he groaned, eyelids twitching and buried in your cunt. he pumped himself a couple times, using you to the fullest. he dropped the knife on your bloodied-pink satin pillow, kissing you harshly.

he moaned into your teeth, it was like a fountain of blood pooling into his mouth from yours- it was perfect. the smell of sex and blood, perfect. the smile on his girl's face after fucking her to sleep, perfect.

you hiccuped as he rummaged through your stuff, not much use to him. lame diary, cheap jewelry, not many electronics other than the one with a hole in it beside you. he was getting hard again just at the sounds you were making, whining for round two. moaning from the pain.

"yeah yeah i'll be right there." he waved you off, palming himself through his boxers while emptying out bags and purses and wallets. when he was done, he caressed the side of your face as he slid his cock along your ruined face. the bloody slit that was your mouth did wonders, especially when he dug the blade into your chest and you started gurgling and bubbling. it felt fucking amazing. he's never had a girl like you. so perfect.

you soon went limp, arm dangling off the edge of the bed and dripping onto the fuzzy little carpet you had for your feet in the morning. the floors got cold, but you always forgot to put on your slippers. he sliced open your arm, just for fun. he peeled back the layers of skin and fat and bone and muscle, he's sorry he put you through all of this. his fingers wiggle between your nerves and tendons- jeff even wondered if he dug deep enough, pull on some strings, could he move your fingers around like a puppet? get you to jack him off even in death?

#creepypasta dark fic #jeff the killer/reader #tw.rape #tw.blood play #tw.dark content #tw.stalking

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