#yandere “good boy” x reader

[suiana]

(yandere! "good" boy x gn! player) (reader is an asshole)

"oh, so now that you've had your fun you're leaving huh? that's it?"

"yeah, you were fun because of your innocence. but that's gone now so I'll leave too."

you comment, dusting your pants as you move to leave his place. yeah... it was his innocence that intrigued you in the first place. bright eyes, cute blush... you knew you had to have him.

and you did! he fell for you awfully quick, listening to your every whim and demand. he was like a puppy. a cute and obedient puppy. he was obsessed with being your perfect boyfriend and it was really cute to see. plus he was good at learning the things which you taught him too!

but he learnt a little too quick.

that's why he quickly lost his appeal.

he became just like everyone else. corrupted and sinful. he's not worthy enough to be kept around any longer. yeah he has a pretty face but... everyone else does too. he doesn't really stand out. or does he? you don't really care to be honest. all you know is that you find him boring.

which is why you were leaving right now... well, tried leaving.

your now ex boyfriend clings to your shirt, eyes wide as his smile drops. his face pales as his grip miraculously tightens tenfold. his previously calm demeanour is ling gone as he starts getting desperate, not wanting you to leave him.

"no, you can't leave me. not when i did everything for you!"

he screams, face growing deranged as you grow slightly uncomfortable. geez... you didn't expect him to be this emotional. like, you knew he adored you more than all your past lovers but you didn't expect him to take it this badly. maybe a little crying here and there and begging but-

he's literally clawing at your clothes! is he actually a dog?!

"o-oi stop it..."

you mutter, feeling annoyed as you grimace at the pathetic sight. damn, you should've broke the news through text.

"no! not until you say you're not leaving!"

he cries out, suddenly tackling you to the ground as he pants heavily. damn boy! what the hell? you grunt softly, trying to push him off as he maintains dominance over you.

"no. you can't leave me. you're all i have left."

he mutters, the aura around him suddenly changing. you can't help but shiver at this, growing more than just uncomfortable as you try to avoid eye contact with him. ugh... maybe you shouldn't have told him you liked obsessive guys...

"you won't leave me right?"

he asks, getting all up in your face as you look away. you refuse to answer him. usually ignoring them works so you'll try that for now. and if it doesn't, you'll just have to break him even more.

you hum at your own thoughts, lost in your mind before coming back to reality as he suddenly starts dragging you to the bedroom.

"h-hey don't drag me!"

however your words fall on deaf ears as he continues to drag you like a sack of potatoes. he then chains your ankle to the bed, refusing to let you leave him physically as he crouches down beside you, a blank look on his face as he caresses your face.

"ugh..."

you grimace at his touch, turning away from him as you groan. maybe you should've left him before he got too corrupted.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting #yandere “good boy” x reader #yandere “good boy”

[stickyspeckledlight]

Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body in the Onset [Yan!Aventurine x GN!Reader]

The cotton in your mind protects you.

Ao3

word count: 11.4k

TW: Stockholm syndrome, implied/referenced noncon, suicidal thoughts (not detailed but reader does mention having them and thinking about the act), mild gore (little actual gore but the prose uses gory language), reader goes through it and let’s just say aventurine is a terrible influence, tonal whiplash for my own sanity, wow aventurine are you really this emotionally constipated

Note: My first ever yan work! This is a bit of a mess, but I’ll bet five dollars and janitorial duty at Taco Bell that it’s a good mess 👍

(Written before 2.1)

The sun sets as you both bask in the afterglow. Clouds streak the baby blue sky, hued in soft yellows, calm oranges, and blushing pink. 

(And it reminds you of his eyes) 

Sights like these made nights spent in a casino a bit more bearable. You take a deep breath, sighing in contentment and exhaustion, and you wish you could shut your eyes and stretch this moment for an eternity. To remain in the setting eye of the sun, softly breathing as you press against the gentle beating of his heart. To have his hand lazily draped over your waist, the other caressing your head, fingers softly entangled with your locks. Your tears have dried, too. Yes, you’d like to live in this singular moment, divorced from everything else.

But as you’ve learned during your time with Aventurine, time is a rapid to move with.

You shiver a bit. Noticing this, he pulls up a thin blanket. The difference is small. But still, the serenity of the moment is shattered. The soft silk is meant to cage you in for whatever happens next. You don’t mind, anymore. Or, when you’re more lucid, when you let the torrent that is your mind flow, that’s what you decide.

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. If you were stupid, you wouldn’t ever be forced to trek away from your home. Wouldn’t grab the attention of anyone smart and shrewd (though you did hear about one ‘Dr. Ratio,’ committed to remedies of ignorance). Even if you somehow did and ended up where you were, maybe your mind would be filled with cotton rather than thoughts. That you could enjoy everything all the time. 

But you’re not stupid, nor are you a genius who could hope to outwit the man who holds the aventurine of stratagem. Knowing how normal you are compared to him only makes you more hopeless, so you do your best to fill your mind with cotton again. You feel your inner voice berate you for your willing ignorance but it also cries at its necessity. 

Cotton. You needed to fill your head with cotton, because if you didn’t in time (and that time was short when you were with Aventurine) you might just sob again then and there. You think too much. So you won’t think. At least around him. Because…you still don’t want to acknowledge it in your mind. You protect yourself from the brunt of it and effectively live a lie.

“You’re clenching your jaw,” Aventurine’s voice possesses a perpetual drawl, but in moments like this it softens a little. Almost like he’s talking to a person and not something to use. “Just what could it be you’re thinking about?” 

Could you even be called a thinking creature right now? Cotton absorbs color, and right now the sun, so big it could engulf you, is so beautiful. You tell him the truth. “The sunset’s beautiful. Really, really beautiful. A lot more beautiful than the others.”

He hums. He knows you’re not lying, but you haven’t answered his question. “You’ve made your affinity for the sight quite clear,” he says, and you only notice that odd edge in his voice from your sheer exposure to the man. Whatever Aventurine has against this sight, you’re not sure. He seems to like sunrises, though, if you can trust the times you’ve woken up and see him watching it. And whenever there is no sun, you wake up to him gone or kissing you awake. Though lately, you’ve been steadily receding from your habit of oversleeping, so you more often wake to the sound of his morning rituals. The hand in your hair tightens, and there’s a small tug, firm but not painful, at your roots. He still wants his answer.

Your mind, chosen to be wrecked with cotton, doesn’t know what to think. You say the only other thing in your absent mind. “This one looks like your eyes.” 

You think he likes that because you feel him shift to look at it. You can’t see his face, but you assume he’s taken off his usual smile. Smiling all the time sounded torturous, and you rub your cheek at the phantom pain of your own imagination. 

“Hmm…” and you feel him shift again, and you really have no idea what he wants. From the intonation, he’s about to do something either mischievous or ‘flirtatious.’ “You know, sweetheart,” he purrs, the word heavy on his tongue. He shifts, so you lay on the bed and he lays directly across from you. If this were earlier in your relationship you’d fantasize about ripping his throat for robbing you of the sunset; and he’d tut and make sure to evaporate those thoughts. His hair is messed up, his smile soft but still unreadable. The sun shines on the mark on his neck, and something about the sight makes you a bit…happy. And angry. He takes your face in his hands and locks your eyes. You tense a bit out of instinct. Aventurine’s full attention on you was intense and overwhelming, like a bright sun and a feral beast; the bit of dried blood on his lips is proof of it. You make a note to yourself to do more work on hammering your justified instinct away. Your heart feels like it will burst, as his gaze bores into your own. From apprehension or anticipation, you’re not sure. “If that’s the case,” one of his hands trails down your jaw, the ghost of his touch fluttering against the marks he’s painted on your neck. He’d have no issue finding more all around your body. He softly, lovingly holds your neck like he’s prepared to snap it and equally prepared to drown you in his affection. His thumb finds and lightly presses on a mark, one he drew blood from. “Why not take in the real thing, hm?” His thumb presses harder, and you blink back a wince at the pain. He notices, eyes softening impossibly further before relinquishing his thumb and kissing the irritated skin. “Sorry,” he says, but it’s said the same way a cat licks a mouse’s carcass. But you don’t mind. You’ve made sure you don’t mind a lot of things, and it’s made you equally content and miserable. Maybe you hold onto that latter feeling in stubborn defiance, because losing that shred of yourself would turn you into something that You wouldn’t necessarily hate if it were anyone else, but when it’s You becoming that—that, that, You hate.

But you do enjoy being close to someone like this, and hum contentedly to try and focus on that instead. But Aventurine is perceptive, and though his head is below you, you feel as if you’ve been chained up when you once again lock eyes. “I can hear your thoughts, darling,” He returns to his former position, “I hate seeing you all stressed out,” he says, as if his veins weren’t running with anticipation when you were saddled with debt and when your parents got hit with unfortunate ‘accidents’ that insurance couldn’t cover and he didn’t love the day you became his. “Didn’t you say that open and honest communication is important in a healthy relationship? I’m rather fond of our little romance, and I’d hate for it to crumble.” He nearly pouts—doesn’t surprise you much anymore, but there’ll always be a little bit of whiplash that doesn’t quite go away. Though, You feel a slight hint of bitterness—‘crumble?’ Some cotton burns away. Did he mean that for himself? …Or might it have been a vague threat to you…? You think, but you’re quick to fill your head back up with cotton. The process isn’t immediate, however.

“Our relationship is the furthest thing from healthy,” you point out. You don’t add in that you never sought out romance in the first place, “and it hasn’t exactly been built on a sturdy foundation.”

“You’ve got me there,” He chuckles. “Well, let’s put it like this,” he brushes a lock of hair from your face, “I see that my lover’s been saddled with all these thoughts, and it’s gotten them so awfully quiet,” Lover? No, that’s hyperbole. He tucks his fingers underneath your chin, stroking the soft, unmarked skin; the only area spared from his assault. “Makes a guy worry, you know? The last time you were this quiet was when you first moved in.” 

Yes. It was mostly because You spent the majority of your free time sobbing, leaving your voice all but spent by the time he got back. And it wasn’t like you could be the goofy and sometimes witty and sometimes not buffoonish person You were when You were so miserable. When you wanted to do everything you could to retreat into your own skin—but Aventurine simply ripped you out, exposed, bloody, and sniffling. After that thought, the cotton has completely grown back.

“…And…?” Through the cotton, you can only wonder what he’s talking about.

His smile becomes sharper, and you wonder if he might feel insulted. Does he think you want to leave him, see him get what he deserved and some actual help like You used to? “C’mon don’t you…” you blink a little vacantly, and he seems to realize something. “Or, maybe you’re…” but his voice suggests something knowing. Suggests experience. And the gears in his mind click. “Oh, I know that look!” He laughs, delightedly or derangedly, you don’t bother to differentiate. Either way it makes you shiver. 

“Huh? What look?” You asked, filtered through cotton. He doesn’t answer and cuts to the chase.

He playfully flicks your forehead, and you imagine a bullet going through it, “Riddle me this: what do you want, sweetheart?”

You blink. What do you want? When you first got here, it was security and his or your death. After some time had passed, it was peace. But now…you want whatever storm that’s inside of you to stop. But he doesn’t need to know what you want deep in your soul. So you tell him the truth, filtered through cotton. 

You do something that would’ve been unthinkable to You, and worse, it’s subconsciously without a second thought. You push him back down on the bed by laying on him—flopping on him like a fish, You think, for your mind is such a silly little thing—lay your head over his heart, and take in the sunset. The sun’s nearly below the ground. “…If it’s fine, and only if you want…” you ask, because You detest the idea of being controlling, “I’d like you to…” you flush, “…h-hold me, um, like you are right now, until the sun’s down and, um…” your heart is going to burst and there’ll be a hole of viscera through your chest and maybe Aventurine will admire your pathetic, desperate corpse before burning it, “we can take a bath. And,” you look up at him, “I’ll look into your eyes, as much as you want…” You tell yourself it's because you need to appease him. But you know of the primal thing that lives in your chest. 

It’s true. But Aventurine puts it perfectly.

His smile speaks of years of clawing his way up with honeyed words and masked expressions. “You’re not lying. Thank you. That’s such a sweet wish,” he says kindly (you’re no longer scared of his kind voice), stroking your head like you are an obedient dog, one that he adores and veers on despising, and then wraps his other arm beneath your thighs, “but you know I’d like the truth.” He then says, primally, ready to carve out a space in your body to inhabit, “To know what storm’s brewing in that little head of yours,” he takes in a shuddering breath, and his eyes light with perverse excitement, “if it’s begun to…crack and burn up.” He sits up and carries you away. You’re slightly disappointed you won’t be seeing the sunset in its entirety, but you’ve gotten good at forgetting. Aventurine sighs wistfully. “But…” he grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him, “I don’t mind that second proposition of yours,” his voice is husky, and he kisses you. You flush, and the cotton is the only thing that prevents you from tearing into him with your canines.

As the sun moves further and further away, You think yourself a fool for thinking it would engulf you. Aventurine wouldn’t leave anything left of you, whenever he decided he was done with you.

—

This is your only choice, and it was everything you could do to not shut down the instant you realized. 

You were in denial, at first. It was all just a coincidence, right? You’d always feared this sort of thing—financial struggle—and so getting hit with it should be something you take in stride, and come out of it either in a wreck or just barely getting by. And, if you wanted to get a little nerdy, capitalist economies have to crash into recession eventually, so maybe now was just that time of the era. No place was hiring you, and your parents were getting buried in bills they couldn’t pay. 

But, if anyone with half a brain took a step back, they’d call out the bullshit excuse you concocted in your mind, to deny the ridiculous truth. Because whatever recession was happening, it seemed to only affect you; not to mention that this wasn’t even how recessions worked. The truth that you, you, were the apple of someone’s eye (for lack of a better term—you aren’t delusional—you’re just as disposable as the next person, as much as you wish for the universe to cease operating like it). 

Preposterous! Scandalous! You, a complete idiot, catching someone’s fancy? How the fuck did that happen?! Were pigs flying now? …You take that back, there are indeed flying species of the hog persuasion gallivanting about in the cosmos. But this does not detract from your point. One might say “bimbo vibes,” but you know for a fact, even taking into account your own bias and self-perpetuation of your self-esteem issues (which makes you still having them even worse, but you’ve already gone down that spiral more than you could count), that you do not have anywhere near enough bimbo energy to attract anyone with that kink. Or the looks. This was your knee-jerk reaction to the situation. And to an extent, still is, because thinking about it like that gives the situation a bit of levity you desperately need. You can’t wrap your head around it in the slightest. But you can’t dispute fact. And the fact is that you are wanted by someone else, and you can’t even begin to understand why. Least of all the person who wants you.

The man who hides behind the name ‘Aventurine.’ That fact alone already makes you not want to be so closely associated, and it makes everything more insane and stupid. An IPC executive has no use for you. If he wants to extort you for unpaid or cheap labor, he’s already got a vast selection of underpaid grunts to do his bidding. If there’s one thing the IPC knows how to do, it’s keeping those desperate enough or arrogant enough trapped. You’re not either of those things; though you admit you’ve adapted the former trait in light of recent bullshittery, but you digress. 

Most of what you come up with is met with an easy counter. Aventurine, a sleazy businessman obsessed with sex? He has money—he can just hire a prostitute; hell, you’re sure there are plenty of people who’d throw themselves at him for no charge. Sure, most of them would be coming into it with their own agendas, but he’s sharper than that. Aventurine, a man with insatiable greed? Again, he’s already rich as fuck, and the only way he’s getting any more money is if he looks up the pecking order. Whatever wealth you offer as an asset (the thought churns your stomach) is barely a drop in the bucket. Aventurine, a gambler who loved seeing his opponents fall into ruin? That was actually plausible to some extent, but you’ve made it very clear you’re no gambler (not in tangible matters at least, but you keep your card close to your heart). Then maybe he wants to try and push you over the edge? Try to make you take a risk bigger than yourself? 

So, you’ve settled for this: Aventurine, a man who cannot stand to be sober from the drink called “power.” Desiring complete domination over someone. A personal matter, and briefly you hear the echo of a quote: “We desire that which we do not have.” What doesn’t Aventurine have? 

…A relationship? Well, you shoot that down easily. Whatever kind of relationship this leads to ends with you ruined and him hunting after his next prey. 

He’s a bit like a serial killer, you muse, and you just so happen to meet his criteria for victimhood. But unlike a killer, he’s merely going to make you wish you were dead. If you wanted death, it’d have to be at your own hands. If he gave you that option at all. Another thought you have is that he might use you for snuff or something else equally or more horrific. That’s…you haven’t pursued the thought any further.

You’ve been robbed of much of your control, but you still control the hand that knocks at the door. If you’re going down, it’ll be on your own terms. This is your last, desperate attempt to pretend you have any control at all. You make sure your bangs cover your eyes. 

You just wish your heart didn’t feel like it would explode. You wish that you weren’t actively holding back from breaking down into a sobbing mess. You wish you were made of the same steel heroes were, but you cannot be what you are doomed to not be. 

Aventurine opens the door, giving you a grin that makes you retch. He’s dressed in his usual peacock-esque finery, and something about it makes you frown. Maybe it’s because he’s dressed in the colors you love—forest green, the blue of the sky, the black of where the moon does not shine—and it feels so wrong for something that wants to destroy you to be clad in them. “Sweetheart!” he coos out the wretched (and cringe-worthy) pet name with faux surprise; it propels you to roll your eyes even now. He knew you were coming; otherwise, you’d be detained by hotel staff. It didn’t quite help that you didn’t really bother to dress up either. It made you stick out like a sore thumb, and you’re glad that this is the only time you’ll be at a gaudy hotel. “You’ve come to visit little ol’ me! I’m charmed.  Aren’t I a lucky man?” 

You fantasize about his guts strewn about on the floor, accompanied by your maniacal laughter and sobs of elated despair. “...You could say that, Mr. Aventurine,” you aren’t foolish enough to be curt, so you settle for polite and cordial. Professional and businesslike, though you know that gives him a slight advantage. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you. I think that’s best accomplished behind closed doors.” 

He clicks his tongue playfully. “No need to be so cold. We’re friends here, aren’t we?” 

“I suggest you drop the ‘sweetheart,’ then. Friends don’t call each other that, Mr. Aventurine.” 

He raises his hand in mock surrender, and you want him to get to the fucking point before you lose your nerve. “Oh, fine. Then,” he gestures to the lion’s den. If only he were the gentleman he was pretending to be. “Walk on in, darling.” You cannot suppress the groan that comes out of you. His smile widens; you're sure he gets some kick at riling you up.

You don’t have the energy to deal with him, and you certainly don’t have enough to suppress the sigh of irritation you let out. He seems to look like…some sort of positive emotion that you don’t know what to name. You’re not sure if you want to name it.  

The sunlight catches his predatory yet enrapturing eyes. His eye twitches, clearly trying not to shut. Maybe, you muse, the sun hates him as much as you do. It brings a weak smile to your face. You make sure to take your sweet time to enter. You won’t take off your shoes, either. He can deal with a bit of tracked dirt, you think, but then you notice that he’s wearing his shoes as well. In his own place. And here you thought he was monstrous enough.

But when the door shuts, any semblance of levity you could summon dissipates, and you’re reminded of what you’re here to do. Aventurine’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, and you want to rip it off and feed it to the birds. Thankfully, he just leads you to the living room. The sun is cast overhead. 

“So,” he circles till he’s in front of you, “What could be so important that you’ve come to see me this time of day?” The cat purrs to the mouse, petting it with claws retracted; for the time being. It makes you abandon courtesy for curtness. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t cancel some business meeting to make this happen.”

“Oh! You’ve got me!” he chuckles, “My, you’ve already gotten to know me so well. Don’t you think we’re like two peas in a pod?” He teases, and you know he specifically means for it to piss you off. Not to mention it’s an incredible reach. But to his credit, it works.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit, and his hand lets you back away from him. “I was thinking about…” you take a sharp breath—you can’t lose your nerve now, “...the ‘deal,’ you gave me a little while ago. The gamble, to be more precise.”

His smile stretches so wide it seems to crack his face, and you feel phantom pain radiating along your own mouth. His eyes, those alluring and dangerous rims of pink and electric blue, are spiked with adrenaline. You wonder if his eyes are dilating, but you don’t want to look at his eyes any longer than you have to. “I knew you would come around. But I see it in your eyes—you want to discuss the terms, right?” 

He’s right. “Yes.” 

“Admirable,” he says lazily, “but before you start, you should know that I’m not budging on my reward.”

“I know,” you bitterly say, “this is about my reward.”

Interest ignites, burning the blue of his eyes hot with intrigue.

“If I win, then I want you to reimburse my family, and then some, for all of the shit you’re making them go through. And then I want you to leave them the hell alone and not harm them.”

You can’t tell if he looks more interested or disappointed. “That’s hardly different from our original deal. The only difference is that you’re not getting any compensation.” At least he doesn’t deny that he’s the one the source of your family woes this time. Likely because you two already jumped through that point. You may not be sharp, but there are things even you can’t be gaslit on, and you think Aventurine realized this and decided not to bother. “Do you really hate the idea of getting money from me? You do remember that I told you that you can use me however you want, right?” 

Money that’s sourced from less than savory grounds, you think. You hate how he wants to use you, and you equally hate using anybody. “Yes. You made that very clear. I know what I’m doing. Now, come on.”

“Don’t be so hasty. I’ll have to modify my will so—”

“No need. Get the gun already.” You aren’t too worried anyway. Businessmen like him know to honor their deals. He’ll probably dismiss it easily and assume you’ll either donate it to charity or give it to your family.

He laughs, not so dissimilar from nails digging into a chalkboard, “You’re that eager to kill me? And you were so against it too! I wouldn’t have expected your morals to shift so quickly.”

You bite your lip. “You don’t seem to be all too worried about dying,” you point out, “You were the one who proposed this in the first place.” Another reason you don’t want to associate with this man. He treats his own life far too callously, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that whatever there is to unpack, it’s bursting at the seams. Normally you would’ve been sympathetic, but this is the manner of man that wants to seize you. You don’t want to know what would happen to you, under his dominion. 

Still, at least you know that he prizes adrenaline above all else. Why else would he risk his life for a hit of it? It’s useful info and also the only wrinkle in your plan…but you’re not banking on this entirely.

Aventurine doesn’t respond, but his eyes accentuate his mirthful grin. It reminds you of yourself, muttering a joke under your breath. You do like inside jokes, but you cannot say the same for the ones you’re left out of. No matter how demented this man’s humor is, knowing what he finds funny would at least give you more to glean on him. A part of you does enjoy piecing together puzzles, even ones you can’t solve.

He produces a simple revolver from his jacket. Sleek and as dark as a moonless night, even you can tell that its craftsmanship is more than deserving of admiration. But it spikes your anxiety. You want to dig a hole and suffocate, to feel your lungs burn like lava and to have your fingers raw when you have second thoughts and desperately try to claw your way out. You blink back tears, but you know what you must do.

He takes his sweet time with the gun, but you don’t pay attention. Your eyes are trained on the ground as you try and fail to psych yourself up. You know what you're doing. Your parents would tell you this was a bad choice, and you agree, but you weren’t given very many good choices.

A shot rings out. Glass shatters from behind you. The coffee table. Your breath halts. Something searing and hard digs into your chin, forcing you to look up. Your gaze is misty from the pain, for you’re more resilient to the cold, not the heat. 

“Sweetheart,” he smiles kindly, “I don’t like being ignored.” Despite your best efforts, a tear has rolled down your cheek. Your chin feels like it will be seared and forever be fiery hot. You need to get this over with before your mouth starts to uncontrollably twitch into a frown. He roughly lodges the gun from your chin, but replaces it with a kind touch that sends spiders crawling down your back. “Aw…” he coos, his cheeks faintly dusted with pink as he begins to lean in, “there’s no need to cry, dear.” 

You can’t stop it. You let out something that sounds like a growl, and shove him off of you. “You don’t get to touch me,” you hiss, a sound you didn’t know you were capable of, “Hands to yourself,” For some indiscernible reason, another tear falls, “you haven’t won anything yet.”

He’s not fazed. “Ah, I suppose I’ll have to concede there,” for now, “Here you go then, friend,” Despite his claim of concession he yanks your arm up and forces it in your grip, “Let’s see who luck favors.”

You shake, a little, but you’re not shaken enough to lose all your rationality. “Is there still a bullet in here?” 

“Yep,” he pops the p, like you two were old pals, “though I suppose I should roll the chamber again. Give me a second.” He takes the gun away and gets to work. You’re both thankful and sobbing on the inside. At this rate, your ribs will be dust from how your heart hammers into them. 

It’s back in your hand after what feels like an eternity and a microsecond. “Now there shouldn’t be any problems. Feel free to start shooting,” he purrs, adjusting it to point toward his chest. He moves to secure the barrel to his chest, and you must act now. You’re shaking and you want to die—

Ah. 

Good. 

You won’t lose your nerve then. 

“Actually,” your words shake with imminent tears and ramping fears, “there’s another term I wanted to discuss.” Your words aren’t threatening, but it’s ominous enough to give Aventurine pause. Now that he’s given you the inch, you’re taking the mile. You take a deep breath. It could be one of your last.

You’ve forced the barrel against your forehead. You’ve either gasped or Aventurine’s breath has hitched. You feel tears welling up, but you’ve made it too far for things to end here. You will yourself through your terror. “If I get shot, I win. If I don’t, you win.”

A tense silence whistles about. The air is almost electric from shock. But you know what you’re doing. You know it’s stupid, but you’re hopeless and this is the closest thing to a shred of hope you can grasp. See, you did a bit of research (on a library computer; you weren’t taking your chances). You found out that there are a few stories (very few, buried underneath the announcements of a music video and interviews and what-have-you) about Aventurine playing roulette—and even more about how he’s made numerous casino goers lose everything. In other words, he’s a lucky bitch. 

And you’re not that lucky. You doubt your luck is good enough for a regular gamble, but for your life? You treasure it, and sealing the gun to your head leaves you on the cusp of a breakdown. This is what you’re banking on: you’re not lucky enough to win a gamble, but you’re unfortunate enough to lose your life over something so inconsequential. Your parents would murder you if they saw you. Say you owe them nothing, and you do agree—but you can’t shake your habit of overpaying them. You’ve left a note at home for them to dig up, but it wouldn’t be an apology. If there’s an afterlife, you’ll apologize for eternity. You think the only way you can apologize is by searing your soul in the hells till nothing is left of you. 

You do have a more selfish reason for taking this approach, but it’s also incorrigible and unreasonable. You don’t need to dissect it. 

You think he’ll take it up. Sure, maybe the adrenaline he’ll get won’t be as great if he were the target, but so far he’s been the type to take pleasure in pushing others down a peg. He smiles at your distress, after all. So surely your quivering, sniveling form is giving him a kick? And surely, surely he’ll want to see your eyes glassy, your expression forever contorted in a fearful, desperate sob?

But Aventurine’s voice is missing its usual lilt. It’s hard, no longer deceptively light. Not playfully pushy but demanding. Maybe this is how he speaks to his enemies, you think, suppressing the urge to crawl into yourself. “…What?” A shard of ice is lodged in your back and makes your heart skip a beat from the surprise. But you can deal with the cold. It helps that it numbs the piercing pain in your back.

“I said what I said,” you push the terrifying thing harder into your skull, “these are my terms.” You’re more adamant than ever to not look into his eyes. You fixate on your shoes. You won’t speak more than necessary.

He seemingly contemplates for a moment. You’re about to push further when he finally speaks. “Do you remember what I said when I first proposed this gamble?”

Your mind is too fear-stricken for recollection. “You say a lot of things. C-can’t remember all of them.” Shit, your mouth has twitched a bit.

Shockingly Aventurine doesn’t poke fun at that, and is unusually focused. “I don’t take deals where I’m on the losing end. You’ve skewed this far too much in your favor.”

No. Oh, no. You were wrong about something. Lava starts to sting at your eyes. If you were wrong about this, then what else were you wrong about?!

“W-what? You’re not the one risking your life!” You exclaim, and it makes you look up at him, “How are you on the losing end?!” You shriek, because you aren’t a composed person at heart.

His eyes, lifeless and intense, widen as they bore into your own, pinning you down. If you squirm, you think he would stab knives in them to keep you down. You’re afraid of even blinking. He isn’t smiling and your knees want to shake. “Let’s go through this one by one, so you understand. One: what do I want?”

“W-wha?”

He repeats himself, harsher. “What. Do. I. Want?”

You settle for the safest answer. Your heart feels dead. You’re sure it will wither to dust. “M-me?” 

“Bingo.” It scares you that he’s not saying that with a lilt. It scares you that he’s not trying to manipulate you. It scares you how there’s only a thread between him ripping you in half. “And here’s something very, very important to know about me,” his hand caresses your cheekbone, positioned to catch any tears that fall, or to crush your skull, “I do whatever it takes to get what I want.”

“Then how is this different?! You’re still taking the risk of not getting what you want no matter how you slice it!”

The smile he gives you is all at once angelic and biting. “I don’t like it when I don’t get what I want.” His pupils dilate. Your eyes well up looking into the malice and…something, that plunges you in ice water. “If I can’t get what I want…hm, how do I describe it?” his voice begins to regain its lilt, fueled by your increasing distress. He smiles like he’s teaching a child a lesson, but you swear his eyes are growing duller. “Well, it’s like being trapped in a land without dawn,” his other hand softly holds your shoulder and it feels so wrong because you swear he’s holding back from brutalizing you, “there are chains around your neck, ankles, wrists, waist, eyes…” he chuckles sardonically, and a vindictive grin spreads as he leans in, till you can feel the ghost of his breath, “your life is a living hell, but the cold of the metal seeps down to your very bone.” You yelp; his grip has tightened. “Something stirs in your chest,” the hand caressing your face comes to rest over your heart, “begging to destroy everything and everyone that’s made you suffer.” His fingers dig into your chest, as if he’ll rip out your heart. “Tell me, my friend, do you want a man like that alive?”

You want to close your eyes so badly. Your mind is an inky landscape, blackening every single thought you hold. A soft flutter to your cheek knocks you out of your stupor. You register expensive perfume, something tickling your skin, and soft lips kissing away your tears. Immediately you shove away the opportunistic beast and stumble in your escape.

You’re in too deep. You need to make this work, because as much as you're terrified, something deep within you purrs at the weakness he’s given you.

But it’s good to know how spiteful he is. You already feel much better about your own plan. Both parts of you purr in delight: one knows you must twist the knife, and the other has been waiting for the opportunity.

“Coward,” your mouth is faster than your mind, “you coward!” Your meager wit and anguish over the past few months begin to tumble out uncontrollably, “I don’t care about your shit—you’ve hardly given me any say about anything. You’ve had the upper hand this entire time, and now you want to backpedal? This is too much risk for you?!” You heave, and you’re too enraged to care about how disgusting you must look, “You said to me there’s nothing you like more than a good gamble. Well, I’ve got a GREAT gamble for you, and if you’re upset you’ve got no one but yourself to blame! You wormed your way into my life, you orchestrated its steady decline, and you pushed me right here! You don’t get to back out of this like a coward!” You’re breathing heavily, and your vision is watery red, and you throw the gun in what you think is his general direction, and your vitriol spills out of you, “Take it and take whatever fucking risk exists! Languish for a month or a day or an hour because you didn’t get what you want like a little baby! If I’m going down, you’re coming down with me!” You’re heaving at this point, and you absently lean on the couch so you don’t collapse. Your composure is in shambles, but you’ll try to save a complete breakdown for when your choices catch up to you and you’re choking on your own blood. 

You hear a slow, rhythmic clap, and it shocks you that your ears aren’t flooding with blood at it. You hesitantly look up to see Aventurine grinning like a beast. 

“You, dragging me down…” the lilt has come back, and you realize that he likes something about this; that he’s schemed a part of it, “...so I see.” He drawls. He tilts his head, regarding you with the interest one has in an animal displayed in a zoo. “I’ll admit,” each slow step he takes toward you makes you sink further into the couch, “I was expecting you to cave with that. Yet you still insist…sweetheart,” should you be glad he’s calling you that again? “Let me be the first to tell you that it’s a great honor to push people like you into a corner. You were correct to fear me to try and avoid this.” So you were right on one thing, but it’s only a single thing. He’s inching ever so closely, and before you can start getting away he’s pounced on you. 

You yelp in surprise and begin to thrash, “You—get, get off of me!” You attempt to be intimidating, but your intense terror makes you seem like nothing more than a child scared to get a shot. Perfume burns your nostrils. More tears are shed, but he’s merciful enough to not lap them up just yet. 

He giggles and just pins you down. He waits until you're humiliated and exhausted before continuing. Your mouth twitches, and against your better judgment a sob brews in your chest. Your mind floods with ink, now. You try to tell yourself to keep it together, but the more you repeat it the more terrified you become. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d change the terms like this,” you squirm and look away—you don’t have the bravery to look at him directly right now. He lets you. “I was sort of expecting you to try and stand up for yourself, or maybe even demand I put in two bullets…but, you’ve run counter to my expectations. For one, I didn’t have you pinned to be this spiteful, nor this willing to give up your life.” You flinch and make a hateful sound as he starts to pat your head, continuing on as if this was the most normal conversation in the world, like he was the most normal person in the room, as he smiles so warmly—you’re a frog being boiled, but you’re too tired and afraid to retort, “Heh, this must’ve taken all of your guts to do, right?” The affection in his voice forms a lump in your throat. “I’m proud of you. Take pride in that,” he wipes away a tear, “and you’re right.” Suddenly, all warmness is gone and you’re blasted with heat. His grin shows his teeth, and for a moment you think you’ve really died. “I’ve always loved the thrill of going all in.” He laughs, a depraved sound of hedonism and complete despair, “If I win, it’s the jackpot. I get you, and you get me.” Get him? “And if I lose,” your head is tipped up by the cooled barrel of the gun to look into his eyes—

You whimper. The only thing that registers in your mind is that you’ve found yourself in a fox’s jaw about ready to clamp down.

“I live with my loss at the hands of a nobody. And it’ll gnaw at me from the inside…” he says breathlessly, “Yes, that’s a risk I can see myself getting behind,” Ink has made your soul quiver further. “And only taking deals on the winning end…I do that enough for business. That's to say…” he suddenly pulls you up, causing you to stumble and lean into him. He chuckles as your addled mind and body reorient, but the arm slung around your waist prevents you from straying too far. It’s the pillar you must rely on, but one wrong step and it will crumble to dust.

It scares you. 

But.

There’s another side to your fear. What sort of things do we fear, you think? These months have taught you that people hate that which they fear. When the fear amps up, so does the hate. You aren’t blind to how he looks at you. He’d vivisect you if it got him what he wanted. Your teeth grind. Oh, you hate him, you hate him so much. But your hate doesn’t burn, nor does it freeze. It’s a part of you; it hums through your veins; it thrums with the beat of your heart. There is nothing special about what is merely a fact of life. You are its vessel, and for that it sustains you.

You won’t see the fallout of your victory, but the mere idea sends a wave of ecstasy through you. 

The barrel of the revolver presses against your heart. 

“I accept your terms.” His voice edges with adrenaline and delight, but, and rather exquisitely, your instincts think, an edge that he must be the one to win this gamble—that in this moment, for him to live with loss is completely undesirable. It pleases you greatly, that you seemed to have ever so slightly peeled off his mask. But unfortunately for him, you’re not lucky enough to avoid a stupid death. You quiver, but not with fear; not entirely. Still, a part of you wonders if he’s just been testing you with his easy agreement. Should you be glad if you got full marks? Or should you hope you’ve failed?

Still, a brief feeling of levity blooms in your chest, and you seize it immediately. 

You did it. And unexpectedly, rather than further terror, relief washes over the heat and ink, because now that you’ve felt dead so often in such a short time, death is salvation. But just as quickly as the water came, a blizzard freezes the sea. 

Click. His lips are against yours. 

Of course. He wouldn’t let your final moments be pleasant. 

He takes advantage of your inexperience to entangle your tongues, and his hand against your head pushes you deeper and deeper as he tries to devour you. You gasp and tear up when he bites and bruises your lips. You’d like to fight back, but you want to get this over with. Even if it means being taken advantage of in your last moments, mother death’s repentance is merely a chamber or two away.

But still, no matter how demented you are in the moment, you are human, and the instinctual desire to survive makes you recoil.  The eye contact exacerbates it. His eyes hold a sea. On the surface, you can freely see the coral and starfish, difficult to understand but beautiful. But deeper, where the sunlight does not shine, the predators have taken to hunting one another, having wiped out the prey. And when only one is left, then it can only move up and up, until it’s the only thing left standing. And now it looks to consume you to satiate its unending appetite. Your lungs burn. 

You’d love to shut your eyes, but doing so feels like losing. At least when you do so, you can see yourself be devoured. Your awareness of yourself is the only agency you have right now. 

Click. He pulls away, and you take in a greedy breath. You feel a deep imprint on your lips; a bite, just barely not drawing blood. Your heart beats and a tear trickles; you’re not dead yet. That’s ok. You’ll be dead in a moment. 

“You look so certain you’ll win,” he observes, “it’s a good look on you.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Pull the trigger. I’m getting sick of looking at you.” 

“But, if I do, then you might breathe your last,” his eyes narrow, though you’re not sure if it’s predatory or softening, “can’t I take the sight of you in?” 

“Ha!” You cough it out. “For a man who dresses to the nines, you sure have bad taste.” 

“Aw, don’t demean yourself like that,” he mockingly reassures, “I’ll have you know you’re perfectly enchanting.” 

You decide to play along because banter is banter, and no matter how spiteful you are, you’ll take comfort and levity where you can find it. “And you’re a Knight of Beauty.” Absently, you wonder how terrible you must look. You feel your eyes still well with tears, still sniffling back bits of snot every now and then. 

You’re not sure if everything’s just catching up to you, or if the thought has propelled you to the realization, but you’re so, so, so tired. It does make your tears dry, a little, and your muscles relax. 

You see he’s starting to lean in again, and you immediately put a hand between you and his lips. “Don’t.” You growl. “Just…just shoot,” you sigh in exhaustion, “I’m tired. Just shoot. If you’re not satisfied, then you’ll have my corpse.” The implication is disgusting but he’s disgusting, and you really just want to sleep. You’re pretty sure he would’ve done it even without you saying. 

His hand drifts down to your waist. “Can’t say the image is pleasant.” Is his voice colder? Tired? Distant? Or are you finally losing it? 

“I’m already a teary mess. It’ll just be colder and a little stiff.”

He scoffs, “If I wanted someone steely, you wouldn’t be here.” True.

You bite your cheek and look at your feet. “Shoot.” 

There’s a pause in the air. You wonder if he’s contemplating on saying something to you, or just getting it over with. Both would make sense. You close your eyes. You will yourself to not think, because you know if you do that your life will just flash before your eyes. And if that happens, you’ll die completely miserable.

Click. 

You’re breathing. His hand is on your waist. The gun’s pressed to your chest. Nothing’s changed. Why aren’t you on the ground choking on blood? 

“I win.” You hear. You shut your eyes when sunlight gets into them.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

You’re still here. 

It didn’t work. It didn’t pay off. Your knees give out as you finally are no longer able to keep your tears at bay. You feel fluttering around your eyes, and you dare not open them. Shhh, shhh, you hear, but you only cry more. Everything has come to impale you, and you cry as you feel your organs spill. You’re his. You’re his. You want to die. Everything is coated in ink. You process nothing but the terror and rage and fear and despair and laughter and anything and everything you’ve ever experienced. You try to curl in on yourself, but you’re stopped by a beast’s hold, warm and predatory. 

“Shhh, it’s alright…” a hand strokes you to soothe, but it’s more akin to sandpaper rubbing on raw skin, “Let it all out…we have plenty of time. I don’t have to hold back and neither do you,” he reassures. It makes you sob harder.

You heave and sob. All you can think about is the unknown future that awaits you. You barely register being placed on a plush surface.

When your sobs finally quiet, you’re forced to look into his eyes. There’s a flush on his cheek, a slight inconsistency in his breathing, and his eyes have dilated with adrenaline and…and…you’ve never seen that emotion before, whatever it is. 

You wonder what face you’re making, as he smiles ferally. “You were right. That was great,” he hisses with elation and laughs. “Oh, you’re beautiful.” 

The world spins. You’re lying, and he’s on top of you. 

Oh…oh no…You begin to flinch and twitch uncontrollably. You aren’t thinking. You flail, kick, and cry even as you exhaust your meager energy, but he doesn’t budge. You need to get away get away get away get away—

“One last thing, to really seal the deal,” he smiles, insidiously kind and horrifying, “to commemorate my victory and your defeat.” 

He bites into your neck, and you scream. 

The fox swallows you whole.

—

He lets you roam freely, whenever he’s gone. To say you were baffled and suspicious was putting it lightly, so you refrained from taking advantage of it for a long, long time. In fact, when you found out his spaceship-apartment-thing was mounted with surveillance in every nook and cranny, rather than walk out the door, you found a cramped closet to hide in for a few days. Curling into a ball all day wasn’t easy on the joints, but you were taking any semblance of privacy you could get. But Aventurine, petty and cruel, forced you to seal off your haven with your own hands before he tore into you. If he wants you in his sights or roaming about, he should just make up his mind already.

But, for this one occasion, you choose to abuse this privilege. You usually come back around the same time he does to appease him, but you finally decided you needed a vacation after he forced you into one of his stupid gambles and forced you to fulfill another of his especially perverted fantasies; on top of forcing you to help him get acquainted with a gacha you played—and he’d be the direct cause of your cake turning out burnt. Sure, there are those big moments where lava and ink converge, but it’s the little things which sting and nick that pile up. The real kicker was when he forced you two to share a plate of pasta one night and when, of course, you two landed on the same noodle, he had the brilliant idea to suck it up at the speed of light; likely hoping it would get him to your lips sooner. How romantic, making out while you both had half chewed food in your mouths; you truly could not commend this man’s genius enough! Unfortunately for his plans and your sanity, you couldn’t keep up, and that is why you know what it’s like to have tomato sauce in your eyes. Not to mention that there were pepperoncinis in there. You were washing it out for days. At least he seemed genuinely apologetic over it, but copious amounts of jewelry don’t supplement how he never asks if you even want or like it.

So, yeah, you’re no fan of how he fucks with you. You gladly made this choice, and all the risk it came with. 

“So, this is where you’ve been.” You think he’s still a little surprised, just as you are. You haven’t done much in the way of defiance, both because you wanted nothing more than to remain within yourself, and because you feared his retaliation (very, very much). The few risks you have taken never pay off. Even this one didn’t pay off in full: for you didn’t even go to see your parents. You tried to tell them the horrible truth and because they deserved to know their child’s fate, but every time you approached their house, something stopped you. Shame, fear, embarrassment, sheepishness…you don’t know. You almost laugh. To think, a quarter of why you’re here is because of the danger they were placed in, yet you can’t even muster the courage to talk to them. Maybe you want them to think you’re dead, because then that’s the version of you that’ll be eternal in their minds: loving, goofy, brimming with potential and optimistic pessimism; and not the pathetic wimp you truly are. The mere risk of seeing disappointment shine in their eyes (they wouldn’t but what if they did? What if?) was enough to scare you off. You dismiss them from your mind because you have to deal with Aventurine, unfortunately. You wonder if you’ll forget them, if you cast them out of your mind enough. “I’m charmed. Our special place.” 

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. This was mine before you ever came here, and it still is.” 

You met each other here on a moonlit night. You couldn’t see each others’ faces, but it didn’t stop you from conversing. You don’t bother to think about it more, because what started as a memory that made you feel warm now enshrouds you in a volcanic blizzard. You’ve already mulled over it plenty anyway—on how such a mundane conversation started all of…this. 

Now, the sun is setting. It calms you down.

“Darling, this is a national park. You don’t own it.”

You tsk. “Shut up. I don’t feel like dealing with you right now. And you literally called this place ‘ours,’ you conniving bastard.” 

“Unfortunate,” his arm slings across your shoulders, “because it’s been such a lonely week without you…” you don’t share the sentiment. His other arm cages you by the waist. You imagine his body rupturing and exploding, showering blood and guts that you’d dance in. Or would you soak yourself in his organs, to savor his defeat? Maybe you’d open your mouth, let your mouth and throat be coated in his blood so you— 

Huh. Something’s off again. You are no stranger to violent thoughts, but lately, at rare times, your fantasies get accompanied by something strange you can’t quite put your finger on.

You make a face, as you look at him over your shoulder with a deadpan glare, “And you’ve let me parade about.”

He giggles. “What? I had no clue you were here till a few hours ago! Honest.”

“Says the surveillance freak.” You wave your phone, “Not to mention I’ve so conveniently kept this tracker with me.”

He drops the act. “You didn’t even try to cover up your tracks.” He sighs, “I must say, your defeatism is probably the least attractive part of you. Can’t say I really understand.”

Then why does he still keep you around? It’s already been nearly half a year.

“You and I have no illusions that I can escape you, and I lost a bet. I try not to be a sore loser.” 

“And yet you so often cry when you lose our games. Kick and scream sometimes.”

Your chest feels hollow, and you hate the feeling so much that you want to die right then and there. “What, should I be jumping for joy when you rape me?” 

Silence. You can almost think he’s a little remorseful. But then his fingers snake up to pull at your collar. Peeling back your skin, to try and coax you out of it. More like tear you out.

You scoff, but your eyes heat up. “Seriously?” Your voice carries a mix of disappointment, anger, fear, and despair. It cracks, “Hardly three minutes and right after I—”

“Relax,” he’s so soothing that your muscles tense up and your heart beats to the nines—what a reassuring boyfriend! He continues his ministrations until he has a good view of your neck, and hums in pleasure, “I can’t say I’m entirely peachy with what you’ve done, but you haven’t been that bad—” you feel yourself slightly relax, “—so we’ll get a room first.” And your heart drops, but you did expect this. He hums, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice, “Unless…you’d like to really make this our special place?” 

No. He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t he won’t—The slightest bit of life crosses your relatively lifeless face. “Don’t you fucking dare—!”

He covers your mouth, silencing you, and squeezes tight when you try to speak; you feel something in you wither. “Alrighty, I get the idea,” He casually concedes, but you doubt he was all too adamant if he dropped it so easily. “We’ll both save ourselves for later. In the meantime, let’s keep quiet, mhm? We really wouldn’t want anyone to just interrupt us.”

You seethe, but then his grip becomes near painful. Humiliation wells in your chest, as the muzzle tightens. You forcibly relax, and reluctantly nod. Fresh air has never been sweeter. A drop of sweat trickles down your face.

“Good. Very good,” he purrs. “You’re always so good; thank you. I’m glad you see the mutual benefit in doing so.” He brushes a spot at your neck. It’s the spot he first bit you in, and thinking about it still makes you shake in pain. And he’s always sucking or biting at it to stake his stupid claim. You brace yourself. And right on cue he’s latched on, and your scream is muffled by your hand. You’d like to say you’ve gotten used to it, but you’ve never had a good tolerance for pain. Against your wishes, tears fall. Aventurine lunges at the opportunity, sensually licking them and leaving behind a disgusting trail of slime to dry. He kisses your cheekbone, leaving behind a weeping crimson flower, “You really are a crybaby…” his voice sends spiders crawling into your ear.

You desperately wipe your cheek with your sleeves, mostly because you know shoving him away doesn’t work when he gets like this. And then your short lived adrenaline fades.

“Shit!” He’s drawn blood. Again. And you liked this shirt! But you can see why he doesn’t—it was a high collar and a long sleeve, able to cover the mural of bites and bruises he leaves on your body. The majority were faded, but some of them were just a little more permanent. You briefly wonder why he’d ruin your shirt; he’s made it very clear that the mural is for his eyes alone. You suspect he wanted to create an excuse so you’d be forced to wear some jacket or shirt of his.

“Sorry,” he kisses the spot, but each kiss burns you. You don’t understand why he bothers to say the word when you both know he’s not capable of feeling remorse, at least, not for you. He keeps stinging your tender flesh.

You groan, blinking back mist. “You’re making it worse.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, giving you a bloody peck on the cheek, “but can you blame me? You’re not wearing any of my gifts. Makes a guy a little jealous, y’know?” He kisses your cheek again, firmer to imprint his bloody kiss.

“Yes, I can blame you for making conscious decisions,” you coldly snap, but you’re already tired, “Once again, jewelry is overrated and I reaffirm that your taste is shit.”

“I recall my jewelry and clothes were some of the first things you complemented.”

“Aye,” it’s true, but you see an opportunity for levity and take it, “but I have since evolved from my follious self.”

He’s getting that feral look in his eye again. Why?! You didn’t even do anything! You snap. “What is it? Spit it.”

“You’re doing it again.” 

You can’t stand his touch any longer. “Doing what?” You hiss, shoving him away from you so you can face him. But you almost wish he didn’t let you, because there are few things he would trade for you in his hold.

He whistles. It feeds your frustration. You assume that it’s what he usually wants from you. “If this is some weird sexual innuendo then it’s fallen flat on its ass, you affluent horndog. I thought you said to wait later, anyway.”

He blinks in brief shock, before laughing—his canines shine in the orange sunset, “No, no no, not this time around. Let’s put it this way, and I’ll be very clear, just for you,”

As he calms down, an angelic smile spreads in his face, and you know you’re looking straight at damnation. 

“I’ve learned that defeatists succumb to themselves. Pushing them past their limit helps, but it’s not entirely necessary.”

…In the back of your mind, you make a horrific realization. 

You have tilled fields, so You may eventually sow them with cotton.

—

What does your face look like, right now? If you hazard a guess, it might be bestial. You only know your eyes are wide open and not flooding.

In an unexpected subversion, it is you who pins Aventurine to the ground. You don’t pay much mind to his expression: parted lips, breathless, glimmering interest and fulfilled desire in his eyes; it’s unusual and you would’ve drank it in if not for the tornado in your mind. It’s torn through some cotton, leaving the field barely clutching to life.

“What. Were. You. Thinking?” You do not recognize your own voice. You feel your body shaking and find that you’re breathing heavily. 

He smiles. “You watch me gamble all the time, dearest.” His head tips in faux questioning, “I don’t see how that’s gotten you so worked up—and you’ve been so sweet lately.”

You grind your teeth. He hasn’t answered you. “You played Russian Roulette.”

The body of his opponent is slumped on the table across from you two. Their blood continually drips, crying out in defeat. You couldn’t care less about that, because there’s a thought playing on repeat in your mind. 

That could’ve been his body.

His eyes twinkle as he smirks, “Are you jealous?” He cruelly teases, “Did you want to kill me, or were you hoping to take the bullet yourself?” 

“No.” You’re not being sensible. The cotton in your mind is shredding. You want to balk at the idea, and You want to jump at the opportunity. “Answer my question.”

“Mmm,” he hums, and his nonchalance makes you shake, “well, I suppose I’m in no position to refuse. It was a good gamble with a good thrill, of course! I thought you knew this.”

He’s right. You know just how much pleasure he takes in putting everything on the line. Your question is answered, but for some reason it’s still not satisfied. The few surviving patches of cotton are still in your way.

That depraved feral look in his eyes only grows at your internal battle, and his gloved hand cups your cheek. “What’s wrong?” He goads. “Or have you finally come around to just how irresistible I am?”

For a moment, the cotton has come back, regrowing into a beautiful field. But then the scent of blood wafts to your nose, and all of your senses have increased tenfold. The drip of blood sounds like pouring rain, poking numerous holes; the tile below your palms are lifeless slabs of ice, sticking itself to you so you’d have to rip your skin off to get away; blood and perfume and spilled champagne root themselves into your sinuses, bleeding 

them out; chocolate and salt roil on your tongue, scraping along like a rusty iron blade; and Aventurine, beautiful, cruel, loving Aventurine, has never looked clearer, so enthrallingly vivid and colorful you are tempted to sob at the beauty alone.

Hell hath flourished, and it burns the cotton to dust.

You begin to unravel. 

“I want to hollow out your chest.” You admit maddeningly, and you wonder how much your insanity bleeds out. “And burrow into it, so I can listen to your heartbeat and feel the expanse of your lungs pressing into me with your every breath,” you think your breath has grown more erratic, “I want to breathe in your blood, taste your heart, blood, sustain myself on nothing, on nothing but you!” You’ve leaned closer till your breaths fan over each others’ faces. Small patches of water begin to drop onto Aventurine’s face—his face that is so breathtakingly and satanically beautiful without the cotton obstructing it—your breath hitches and your mouth twitches, as you take in a quivering breath. “If you die…I might just join you, because…there’s really nothing else for me…” and then something ugly sparks in your chest. “If you die…I’m pulling the trigger, not some random sap in a casino.”

The puddle of blood begins flowing toward you. 

It completely burns the cotton, and that is the moment You are no longer safe. But hell is beautiful, you find, and you so gladly drench yourself in its flames. You are still painfully aware of how wrong it all is…but, the storm within you is starting to calm, you don’t cry with your every free moment and you no longer agonize about your parents. You…you think this is peace. To harbor obsession for the man who trapped you in this hell and tortured you and then drowned you in affection and obsession.

You sob, a sound of euphoric despair, and you confess the terrible truth,

“I love you, Aventurine,” you take in a shuddering gasp, “I love you…” you cough, no longer able to hold back as you break down, “I love you, I love you,” you hiccup and sob, “I love you I love you I love you I love you!” You’ve collapsed, curling in on yourself but resting your head atop his heart. “Don’t throw me away…don’t l-leave me…I need you, and it’s your f-fault I’m like this…please, please Aventurine, tell me you love me and won’t ever let me go!” Oh, you feel so ugly and you feel so much lighter and, and—

His breath shudders, and then swiftly takes you in his arms. You flinch out of your daze, but his grip doesn’t cease, like he wants your bodies to meld into each other. His grip is tight, almost biting, but in your mind free of cotton, it feels secure and adoring. He sits up, shifting so you straddle him. Red dusts his cheeks, a similar shade to the crimson pooling beneath you two. His eyes hold a hunger satiated and a new voracity, gleaming with animalistic intent that makes you shiver. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he shudders, grounding himself to hold back, “that was beautiful—you’re beautiful,” he’s panting, “how could I refuse such a heartfelt and adorable confession?” Your heart soars. “You’re so perfect. You’re the other side of my coin…yes,” he groans, “I’d love to bring you down with me, and to tear you apart if I’m back in that dawnless land.”

As the dawn shines on you both as he kisses you, it clicks.

He wanted someone just as desperate as him.

The whisper against your lips is almost reverent, “I knew you were the one,” His eyes are like a meadow, where you dance and sing and never leave, even as your feet howl in pain brushing against poison ivy and oak hidden amidst the grass and flowers. Now you recognize the emotion that drowns in them: an all consuming affection which threatens to erase your existence to everything but him. “Thank you, for destroying yourself for me. It’s truly an honor, sweetheart.” 

Your tears flow, but the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. Insanity has sunk its claws into you, your stress and limits explode in a desperate supernova, and your very being trembles with ecstasy. Aventurine joins you, standing up and spinning you around in his firm hold as you both laugh and laugh in the dawn’s sunlight, with red not trailing too far behind. This is a spectacle you burn and freeze and drown in, witnessed by your spectator in rot.

Then you're devoured, but you’ve grown your own claws and fangs.

Driven by nothing more than instinct, in the throes of your tryst, you bury your head in the crook of his neck,

And bite.

#yandere #Yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #yandere honkai star rail #Yandere x you #tw noncon #if you’re this far into the tags then hello welcome to hell #How are you? I’m chillin out it’s pretty nice #Dreading the day I must finally become a proper tool in capitalism (re: get an actual job so I do not starve to death and deprived of— #—basic human necessities. Like nestle water) #Ha didn’t expect capitalism depression in the tags of a yandere work didja well to that I say SIKE BITCH I’ve got you #But also every other post has espresso depresso abt capitalism so it’s kinda the norm at this point #Marx is rolling in his grave #Anyway go get a drink of water it’s very very important to be hydrated #Also you do not know how hard it is to not write good girl/boy in this FR— #Destroyed Onset

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Puppy Boy Wants to be Your Good Boy

[Yandere! Puppy Boy! Boyfriend x GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You and Evan have been dating for about a year now. You met in freshman year of college, and seemed to hit it off really well. It kind of amazed you at first that you'd managed to snag a total hunk like Evan.

Evan was the epitome of jock bro: Always working out at the gym, goofing off with his fellow jock friends, and watching tons of sports on TV. Meanwhile, you were a skinny nerd who was at the college on an academic scholarship since you practically lived in the library.

Still, Evan proved to be a great boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, loving-- a total catch. Plus, he was muscular AF!

Then one day, you saw an ad online that sparked your interest, and you couldn't resist purchasing the advertised dog collar that was leather with little spikes adorning it. Once it arrived in the mail, you approached Evan in your shared apartment.

He was on the couch in just his boxers, playing video games. He eyed you, seeing the smirk on your face. "What's up, Babe?" he grunted.

You blushed a little bit. "I just wanted to try something tonight... if you're cool with it?" you asked. Your sex life with Evan was not lacking whatsoever, but it was still healthy to spice things up every now and then.

You pulled the dog collar out from behind your back, holding it up.

At first, Evan laughed. "You want me to wear a dog collar?" he snorted.

"If you don't like it, we can take it off," you shrug, walking up to fasten it around his thick, muscular neck.

The way the leather collar with the spikes fit around Evan's neck made him look really tough, but he felt ridiculous at first. His face was bright red.

You thought he looked kind of cute. "Aww," you cooed, "who's a good boy?" You playfully ruffled his hair.

Good boy...

Something clicked in Evan's brain as soon as you uttered that phrase, and he felt his entire wiring being redone, as if every single instinct he possessed was being reshaped.

Evan's face broke out into a smile alight with zeal, and he dropped onto all fours in front of your feet. "Me!" he happily gushed. "I'm a good boy!"

Holy crap!

You were shocked at how quickly Evan's mind had changed. You weren't sure he'd be into it at all, but looking down at him now, he seemed to be having the time of his life. His muscular pecs heaved with excitement as he sat on all fours in front of you, eagerly awaiting a command. His boxers were already tented out too, damn!

"You're my good boy!" you chuckled as you leaned down and gave your boyfriend some head pats.

"Woof! Woof!" Evan excitedly barked.

That night, he showed you that he was a pro at doggy style, even howling when he came inside of you. The collar was definitely $14 well spent, in your opinion.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Much to your surprise, Evan loved being a good puppy boy for you. Well... "loved" is probably an understatement.

Evan refused to take the dog collar off, even wearing it out whenever the two of you left the apartment for date nights. At first you thought at it was just him exploring his sexual side some more... but as time went on...

Every time you entered the apartment from work or classes, Evan would excitedly bound over to you on all fours, barking happily and begging for head pats and belly rubs. With his massive bulk, he easily pinned you down, refusing to let you move until he got his pets.

Evan would pin you down on the bed, leaning down to kiss you-- but now his versions of kissing were like puppy licks. He'd lap his tongue all over your face, barking with glee despite your annoyed expression.

You'd be sitting on the couch, trying to watch TV when Evan would crawl over to you (he's been constantly walking around on all fours), wearing nothing but his spiked dog collar. He'd mount your leg and start humping it, whimpering as he rutted his hard cock against you like a dog would against its toy. (You had to apologize to your friend, who was visiting, for the awkward sight.)

You'd be trying to fall asleep after a long shift at work feeling so utterly exhausted when Evan would whimper at the foot of the bed. "Whaaaat?" you'd groan.

"Am I a good boy?" he'd whimper, his voice cracking like an injured puppy's.

"...damn it, yes, Evan. You're a good boy," you'd mutter, getting fed up with this quickly.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Your friends were starting to pick up on your change of mood, seeing that you were more irritable throughout the day, and not wanting to leave work immediately.

Sensing this, they invited you to the bar after work, to which you happily agreed.

You loved Evan, of course, but you were totally over his new puppy persona. And despite how many times you tried to tell him, all he'd do was tune you out, and beg for pets.

You really needed a break.

"Y/N?" your coworker, Joshua asked, noting how you'd practically downed your cocktail in one gulp. "What's up? What's bothering you?"

You didn't want to be one of those people who go to others whenever you had relationship problems, but you felt lost. "It's just Evan..." you muttered.

Joshua, who was actually a genuine friend who just so happened to be a guy, put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure things will get better," he smiled at you.

A large part of you felt guilty since you were the one who'd purchased the damn dog collar in the first place, but you couldn't stand the thought of Puppy Evan and having to listen to his barking or him chewing on his squeaker toys for one more night.

Before you could say anything else, a low growl made you jerk back.

Evan stomped into the bar, still wearing the studded collar, his eyes narrowed at Joshua as he bared his teeth at him.

"Grrr..." Evan bellowed out a deep growl, all of his large muscles tensed up, making him look big and ferocious.

Joshua immediately retracted his hand from your shoulder, backing away quickly.

"Evan? What are you...?" you try to ask as your puppy boyfriend wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you roughly into him.

"Mine!" he barked at Joshua, tightening his grip on you.

You were stunned.

He stopped growling when he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered. "You didn't come home," he whined, nuzzling you. "I had to come find you."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, and instead threw you over his broad shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his head up with pride, as a dog does whenever they find a cool stick at the park, and carried you all the way home.

You were mortified, wondering how you were going to show your face at work after that. All you could do was seethe with anger as your puppy boyfriend took you home.

Once you were inside, Evan got down on all fours and whined at you. "Wasn't I being a good boy?" he asked. "Why didn't you come home? I missed you all day!"

"Evan, stand up--"

Evan whimpered like a puppy, nuzzling his head against your hand as he asked for head pats.

That was the final straw for you (a small one, but it was like death by a thousand paper cuts).

"I'm done," you finally huff, walking down the hall so that you could pack up some clothes and leave.

"D-done?" Evan yelped, quickly crawling behind you. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?"

I grabbed your suitcase out of the closet, trying not to look at your puppy boyfriend as he begged in the doorway, perched on his legs with his arms out in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading.

Annoyed, you turned to sneer at him. "No!" you spat. "You've been a bad boy!"

"I'm a bad boy...?" Evan yelped.

You kept your back to him as you packed up your suitcase. Just as you were almost done, you heard that eerie growl again.

"Grrr..."

You quickly turned around and paled when you saw Evan on all fours, standing in front of the door. He was baring his teeth at you and growling deeply, his chest muscles puffed up and making him look all the more menacing. The pissed off glare on his face was akin to a feral dog, and he snarled in your direction.

"E-Evan, please g-get out of the way," you trembled, taking a small step towards the bedroom door so that you could leave.

Evan barked loudly, stomping his hand/paw onto the floor forcefully as he steeled his stance. He continued to snarl at you, lunging forward to scare you.

It worked and you stumbled back, falling onto your ass. You tried to back away from him, but Evan quickly crawled over to you.

He pinned both of your arms down onto the floor above your head, unleashing a loud snarl and he pushed his angry face up close to yours.

"Am I a good boy?" he snarled, baring his sharp teeth at you. "Or am I still a bad boy?"

Your heart raced in your chest. Evan is much stronger than you, and you knew you couldn't fight him off. Plus, the way he bared his teeth at you and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat was much more dog than man, making you shudder.

"Y-yes!" you stuttered. "You're a good boy, Evan!"

Instantly, Evan stopped growling and his broke out into a joyous smile. "I'm a good boy?" he asked, his muscles tensing with with excitement. He still kept you pinned down.

Hell no!

But you didn't want him to maul you or bite out your neck with his teeth. So instead, you slowly nodded.

"You're the bestest boy," you cringed.

Evan's smile grew wider. "'The Bestest'?" he repeated. "I guess if that were true... then you'd never, ever leave. Right?" He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

His chest rumbled as a growl began to form, warning you to answer correctly.

You force a smile onto your face, but it's pained.

"O-of course not," you stammer, your heart falling as you sealed your fate. "You're... my, *gulp, good boy."

Evan smiled widely as leant down to lap at your face as he gave you puppy kisses. "I'm a good boy," he playfully growled as he began to rut his hardening cock against you.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #yandere daddy #possessive boyfriend #yandere puppy boy #puppy boy #good boy #yandere good boy

[kurooo-is-here]

I've been loving writing the yandere stuff recently, so I'll give you guys some crumbs of what I think yandere Kieran is like. Enjoy :D

Yandere!Kieran x Reader

Warnings: Obsessive and controlling behavior, lots of death, implied memory loss

He knew about you before you even met him. I mean, how could he not? The newest Champion of Paldea, who beat Geeta and saved the region during your adventures to Area Zero-- he admires you so much.

And then... he met you. You're even prettier in person, and your voice is heavenly compared to the recordings he has. He can't stop gushing about you.

He spends every waking moment thinking of you after that. So... it turns his world upside down when Ogerpon chooses you over him. And it twists his heart when Terapagos looks at you instead of him.

It's not fair. He loves you, cherishes you above all else... so why is the world being so cruel to him? He watches helplessly as his sister befriends you and keeps secrets from him. He watches as the Pokemon that were meant to be HIS... become yours. His dreams vanish before his eyes, taken by the person he loves most.

He hates you-- well, he wants to hate you. He loves you dearly, he's known about you for so long, but all of these other miserable nobodies can befriend you like its nothing, while scorning HIM for acting a little emotional? He's wanted you for so long, and these fuckers are taunting him, he just knows they are. Enough. He's tired of feeling like his life is out of control. For once, he's going to get what he wants...

One day, you pass by the League clubroom. You notice it's oddly quiet in the halls, and even more quiet in the clubroom. Something isn't right.

As you open the clubroom door, a wave of cold dread washes over you and a sickly stench hits your nose. Blood. Lots of blood. Everywhere. There's bodies on the floor. Your vision starts to spin before you can process anything more.

Kieran is sitting in the middle of it all, crying. But when he sees you, he gets... happy? He runs up to you and embraces you, his hands caked in blood... and he just keeps repeating your name, over and over.

You're shaking. You can't stop shaking. You want to throw up, or scream-- just do something-- but you can't move. When you finally try to pull away from him, he looks confused.

"Y/N, where are you going?" His voice is calm, empty. His grip on you tightens.

"K-Kieran. I don't know why you did this, but this is wrong." You start to sob. "Let me go. Please."

Kieran just smiles at you. "Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take good care of you. There's nothing to worry about."

That's the last thing you hear before your vision goes black.

...

You belong to Kieran. You always have, and you always will. He's your loving boyfriend and caretaker, and you live with him in a remote place in Kitakami. You've lived here for as long as you can remember.

Kieran treats you well. He's rarely upset, and he protects you from wild Pokemon. You don't have any Pokemon of your own, so it's only natural. He cooks for you, takes care of you-- he's everything a partner should be.

He loves you so, so much. He always will.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader #yandere kieran x reader #oh boy everyones dead! #good thing kieran's taking care of you now! #:) #kuro writes

[wayfayrr]

I was looking for something and found this…. immediately got reminded of your Yan!Wild fic LMAOOO

ATGSRTHR LOOK AT HIM!!!! LITTLE BABY GUY!!!! I LOVE THE ENERGY OF IT!!

ngl though this is kinda inspiring, cause why couldn't he find a way to get outta your phone rather than your switch? >:)

"Come ON. Why now of all times do you decide to bug out, I just wanna download my screenshots..."

Nintendo has to come up with a better way to transfer images than this, QR codes to connect your phone to your switch? what are they insane? when it's so used to breaking like this there has to be a better method right, or not. they're stubborn. Ah took a second but it's sorted itself out now, huh?

I didn't take these, what is- These aren't my screenshots, they're all close ups of link. In poses that aren't possible in the game. Is that why... Is my phone haunted or something? Scrolling through them all, they seem like photos you'd send to a lover...

Maybe it's a joke or something, someone could've sent it to me that's not possible and you know it. Looking away for a second disproves that though, seeing as when I look back there's a tiny little link pushing through my screen. Wha-?

"[name] I've been trying to get out for so long!! I can't tell you how...... Oh wow, you - you're a lot uh bigger? Than I thought you'd be... I don't think I'm going to be able to hug you all that well like this, am I?"

Am I tripping right now? There's a walking talking link, that can't be more than five centimetres tall, who's just climbed out of my phone. Someone must've laced my food or something. Maybe I should just - just have a nap for a minute - yeah, yeah that sounds good.

><><><><

"Hey, hey [name], wake upppppp. I didn't do all of this just for you to sleep."

This is real. I can feel him standing on my face. I can feel this, it's real.

"I wish I wasn't so tiny though, but I'm out and that's the most important thing."

Without even thinking I've pinched his hood and lifted him into the palm of my hand. From there it doesn't take him long to hug my thumb like he's desperate for affection. I might be delusional, I probably am, but honestly? it's cute, I think I could get used to having him around like this.

#heh love me the self aware boys #haven't written for them in a good while though #had to make this wild more of a gremlin #it's the same amount of energy just condensed #that's my reasoning anyway #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere link #lu wild x reader #lu wild #self aware au #moss✦writes #botw link x reader #botw x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.  

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

#answered #yandere könig #könig x virgin reader #lol #torture torture torture #poor boi #lack of movement is not good for him #he can't even kill people #should we at least give him a handjob? 🥺

[yanaleese]

how would karma react to a thick Latina y/n 😍😍!!! (Me I’m that thick Latina)

In conclusion he would

(1) Bear hug your thighs (note that this guy is HEAVY):

(2) And make it his pillow

Then he'll wake up in the morning and apologize for fanboying for your thighs LOL

#aleese comments #karma #karma ask #karma fluff #qc #yandere boy #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere blog #yancore #yande.re #yandere mafia #yandere x male darling #yandere x darling #thank goodness I finally got this done #honestly for something that could be taken as something...uhm...dirty #it's actually quite wholesome lol

[yandereocs]

Something cool for yan harem would be if darling used them against eachother. Like they tell one character that another is doing smth bad so they’d argue and leave darling alone! or maybe even telling one character another char tried to help them escape so that character will be like kicked out

🪼

* YOOO THIS IS SO SMARTTT

* Also!! The stuff written in italics means that the hybrids are speaking in their native language and the reader doesn't understand what's being said!!

Yandere Harem darling purposefully starting fights

Being in a harem of sorts was always rough.

Too many people trying to touch you, to talk to you, to look at you.

It's incredibly overwhelming. You just want to be left alone because you honestly can't take it anymore.

Which is when you realized something.

This little 'harem' of yours fights a lot. And when they fight, it gives you a chance to slip away and have some alone time. What an advantage!

So here you were, sitting with Zack in the living room as he absent-mindedly rubs your back. Zack is nice enough, still insane but he's nice. But you're so sick of people near people. Earlier you were forced to have breakfast with the Twins, then you were traded off to Villain - which is always terrible - and now you were with Zack.

You're tired and your body is still sore from how aggressively Villain showed her 'love' towards you. So why not stir the pot a little and possibly get some alone time?

"Elijah told me something the other day."

Zack's ears perked up at the sound of your voice but his expression soured at the mention of Elijah. The wolf hybrid HATES Elijah, and for good reason.

"What'd he say?"

Zack continued to rub your back, although his tail slowly swayed in irritation from the topic of Elijah.

"He said you're a dirty mutt."

Is it a bit on the nose? A little. It might've been obvious that you were trying to purposefully start shit, but you knew Zack wouldn't think too much about it. He trusted you, after all. And he just really hates Elijah.

"Excuse me?"

Zack stopped rubbing your back and he stared at you, his eyebrows furrowed. You stared back, trying to appear like an innocent messenger.

"Mhm. He said that you're a dumb dog, and that you'll never be more than a 'defect'. Whatever that means."

You knew what a defect was. A hybrid who can't use magic. But you figured it would be better if you acted like you didn't know the meaning of the word.

"What? Oh, that little..."

Zack's voice lowers to a growl and he abruptly stands up, leaving the living room to find Elijah. You follow him, just to make sure your little lie worked.

"Elijah! Get your ass over here!"

Zack yells in a foreign language that you don't understand, but you can tell that he's pissed off. The shouting kinda gave it away.

"What?"

Elijah walks out from one of the many rooms, his sister following close behind. Elijah seems irritated, his tail flicking occasionally.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you trash talk me to my beloved? I mean, I KNOW why, but still!"

You wish you could understand the strange language the hybrids spoke. It's always interesting to see Zack lose his cool since he's normally so relaxed, so you've always wanted to hear what it was he was saying.

"What are you even talking about? I didn't do anything of the sort. Probably."

Elijah let out a sharp exhale and his pupils narrowed to slits. Bonnie was looking at her brother and then at Zack before she chimed in.

"Don't say 'MY beloved'. They belong to ALL of us. But mostly me and Elijah."

Whatever Bonnie said seemed to have set off Zack even more because his fur started to bristle.

"Shut up! I wasn't even talking to you! And what the hell do you mean 'probably'? That's basically admitting that you did!"

Zack snapped at Bonnie before shouting at Elijah again. The Twins peeked their heads around the corner to see what the ruckus was about, snickering at the scene in front of them.

"Man, you are SO annoying. You're like a yapping dog."

Elijah rolled his eyes and Bonnie nodded in support for her creep of a brother. Zack's tail lashed and he let out another low growl before he started to shout at Elijah again. The bickering just got worse and worse and more people were coming to see what the deal was.

As the fight continued, more people started to chime in. With Karro telling the two to shut up and Royalty threatening to kill someone if the fighting doesn't stop, which prompted Logan to freak out and try to calm Zack and Elijah.

Everyone was focused on this stupid fight. No eyes on you. Which was perfect.

You quietly slipped away, heading up to the attic. You were worried that maybe Forgotten or Andras would be up here since they weren't down watching the fight, but both strange entities were nowhere to be seen.

You let out a sigh of relief and trudge over to the bed in the attic, flopping on the mattress. It wasn't complete silence since you could hear the loud bickering from downstairs through the floor, but it was better than being smothered by all the maniacs that call themselves your lovers.

You got into a position you found comfortable and pulled the blanket over you, shutting your eyes. This was a good chance to get some rest without having to feel unwanted hands on your body or warm breathing on your neck.

You should have done this sooner, honestly. Every one of them were constantly on the edge of ripping the rest of the harem apart. They were all so easy to get riled up! Well, most of them were.

But the amount doesn't matter. As long as there's two of them, which there is, that'll fight each other, then your little plan would work!

Is it a bit evil to manipulate a situation where fighting breaks out? Yes. But everyone here deserved it for being such suffocating, obsessive maniacs. So you didn't feel bad, and you never would.

Because you really needed this small break in order to not lose your mind.

#Yandere Harem #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere boy #yandere girl #Yandere ​imagines #* Hope this is okay ;;; #* AND I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING 😭😭 #* I hope this is good enough to kinda make up for it #* I got more stuff in the works I promise!!

[running-with-kn1ves]

5k celebration event Wahoo!--Requests open

ok I'm a LITTLE early but it's my spring break sO it's the only time I really have to write. Requests + sentence character prompts are gonna be open and answered ALL week and CLOSE march 9th, Friday 12:00 EST!

This event basically means u can send in an unlimited amount of requests/character prompts and I will do my best to answer all of them!

Requests/prompts can be:

NSFT or SFT

Yandere/non yandere

a monster/creature, a Fandom character, or one of my own little guys/gals!

A random scenario

Sentence prompts are essentially a character with a sentence/scenario type. Some examples may include:

"You look so pretty tied up like this."

"Just let me take care of you, why are you so stubborn?!"

"Will you stay with me tonight..? I don't want to be alone."

--Followed by the character/creature you'd like with it

Fandom list I write for can be found here! (If u don't see one just ask and I'll lyk if I know it well enough to write :D)

So, req to your hearts content! I prefer those with scenario/sentence prompts if possible but it's open to anything!

#If the Fandom list doesn't work pls lemme know it's good on my end for NoW #Still have some unanswered reqs I'll try to do for now as well! #yandere boyfriend #wlw yandere x reader #wlw smut #wlw #yandere x reader #art #yanderecore #anime #x reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere aesthetic #yandere boy #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yande.re #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere x y/n #5k celebration #5k followers #5k writing event #Requests open #reqs open #requests are open

[yanderederee]

I’d like to explore some poly!ships… thoughts? (all xReader collaboratives)

Don’t mess with OUR Girlfriend, dumbass!<33

#I love BajiFuyu!!! #both are such good boys #tokyo revengers #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers x reader #baji #chifuyu x kazutora #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers chifuyu #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu #chifuyu fanart #baji x chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #tokyorev chifuyu #bajitora #baji keisuke x reader #baji x reader #chifuyu x fem!reader #yandere kazutora #hanemiya kazutora #kazutora x reader #kazutora #kazutora hanemiya

[undertale-writing-times]

Oh! Seeing Beau with the “ You’re mine. You know that right?” prompt would be interesting!

Beau remembers meeting this human a while ago.

He thought that they were cute! Friendly and very sweet. He found it amusing how embarrassed they were to ask for him to sign a few things! He found it a little strange because he's just a model; he isn't a movie star or anything! Nonetheless, he signed their thing! Why wouldn't he?

Then he just kept meeting them! A little weird but nothing bad, right? They were just in the same area... one time they met at the store, and Y/n helped him. Oh, right! That's their name, Y/n. He thought that it was a nice name.

Y/n was also a nice person.

Dreamboat didn't seem to trust them, but he told his brother to stop being a worrywart; Y/n was just a friend! Just a fan. They started to talk a lot, and Beau even started to talk about the things that upset him. A rarity.

Normally, it was just people being mean to him online; nothing too bad! I mean... mostly just saying his ecto was gross? Monster haters, you know how it is. They hate to see monsters have anything, including a model monster? How 'disgusting' right? Psh, yeah, right, whatever... He told Y/n about the one person who tried to attack him! The person didn't get into trouble because nothing happened, which was... upsetting.

A few weeks later, he learned that that person had been killed. It freaked him out, as it always did when he found out that people died. Nobody said exactly what happened, but a few people in the model place said that they were murdered. It worried Beau, and he made sure to message Y/n to tell them to be safe! If there was a murderer going around, he didn't want anything to happen to his human friend.

Over the next few months, things kept happening. He and Y/n became very good friends! He would sometimes even sleep over at Y/n's house if he didn't want to go home, or if it was too late.

He was worried today.

One of the models that he worked with was in an accident. He spoke about how they were mean to him at one point, pretty much did a 'call out post' for him or something? He wasn't even sure what happened. All he knew was that they were in an accident. 

It was found out that their wires got cut, and now Beau was nervous.

He jolts when he hears the ringing of his phone. "Ah!" He looks down, then sighs and pulls out his phone, answering it, "H...Hello?" Dreamboat knew that Beau had been stressed about this; he said that he should come home and take a few days off, but when he heard that it was Y/n on the other side, he couldn't help but smile.

"Beau! Hey, how're you?" 

"Urm..." he starts, his eyes shooting around, then he gulps down his nerves, "Some stuff is going on, and I'm kind of scared." He peeks around the corner as he walks. There had been way too many people getting hurt around him, and honestly, he was expecting himself to be attacked as well. He was a small monster! Some people might think it would be easy to hurt him... he could fight, he just didn't want to.

The two of them spoke for a while until Y/n offered for him to come over and spend the night! It did catch his attention, and he thought about it. He knew that Dreamboat had told him to come home and said that he didn't want him to spend time with Y/n like that anymore... Beau wasn't sure why, but he assumed it had something to do with Dreamboat not trusting Y/n all that much. He thought before agreeing to come over.

And that's why he went to hang out with Y/n at their house. He was excited! He liked spending time with Y/n, they were nice and always listened to him talk. Plus they liked his ecto, they said that it was pretty and they liked to randomly squeeze it, which made him giggle a lot. Whatever Dreamboat was thinking about Y/n was wrong. 

Y/n even gave him a drink! Hot chocolate, how nice... sort of smelled like cinnamon too. "I will admit Y/n, I was a little nervous to come over. I thought maybe something would happen on my way here." He laughs as he takes a sip from the mug.

"Oh Beau, don't worry, I wouldn't let anything happen to you," Y/n says, with a laugh shaking their head, "I mean... You’re mine. You know that right?” They say the last part, looking him straight in the eyes. Their eyes held... a strange darkness to them now. Beau stares at them with big sockets, "I... What?" he asks.

What the heck did they mean? He was theirs? He didn't belong to anyone. He was about to say that, but suddenly he started to feel really sleepy and his soul felt strange. "Y-Y/n?" his eyes shoot down the mug dropping from his hands, as he put his hands over his ribs. What the hell? What was happening?

Quickly everything went dark, and all he could hear was Y/n's laughter. He should have listened to Dreamboat.

#Beau #Beau X Reader #Reader X Beau #Yandere #Yandere Reader #Beau is a good boy can't see him being a yandere lol #I mean he could be but I wanted to make the reader the yandere this time as a twist #spoiler I guess lol #undertale alternate universe #undertale alternate timeline #undertale ask blog #undertale au #undertale imagines #TW: Murder

[fairy-angel222]

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru

— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.

᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader

᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting

᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked

Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.

Six years.

Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.

You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.

He’d loved you since he was fifteen.

But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.

Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?

On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.

He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.

Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.

Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.

You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.

…

Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.

So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.

You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.

Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.

…

Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.

His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”

Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.

“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.

You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.

Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”

Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”

“Where?”

“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.

“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”

Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Satoru come on-“

“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.

…

Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.

“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.

“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.

“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.

He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”

He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”

You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“

“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.

His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.

…

The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.

Toji Fushiguro.

A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.

He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.

“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”

His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?

Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.

As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.

“Satoru, i didn’t-”

He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.

You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”

You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”

“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”

You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”

“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”

Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?

“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.

“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”

Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.

Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.

“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.

He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.

Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.

It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.

“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.

Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.

You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”

Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.

He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”

Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.

“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”

You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.

You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.

“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”

You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.

Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.

You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.

“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.

Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.

“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.

“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”

His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”

“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.

“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”

Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.

“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.

“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo

[yandere-writer-momo]

Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom

Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)

Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader

A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?

Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.

“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”

“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.

Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!

“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…

He might have to homeschool Jesse now…

.

.

.

Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.

The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.

The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?

Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.

“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.

“I just wanted to be with mom-“

“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”

“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”

(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”

Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”

“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.

Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?

“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”

Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”

For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.

.

.

.

“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.

“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“

“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?

“What do you mean-“

“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.

“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”

Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?

“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”

Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money… she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…

Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.

“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.

“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”

(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.

“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”

And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?

Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.

Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?

Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…

#female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere obsession #yandere dilf #yandere father #yandere boy #yandere males #Yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere oc #yandere original character #older yandere #tw.age gap #slow burn #teacher reader

[wrioluvr]

sub yandere inmate x gn! prison warden reader

thank u all for 1000+ notes on my last post omg....<3 short fic about an idea i had as i work on part 2 of the sub yandere x himbo reader ♡♡♡ kinda wriothesley inspired coz thats bae...

cw: mentions of nsfw

"so let me get this straight." you sighed, looking at the man who was currently on the other side of the bars in disappointment. "you beat up some of the other inmates and got into a fight because.... they were talking shit about me?"

"exactly..... they were saying you were too strict! but they don't know how much you care for us.... such ungrateful bastards." his last words came out with an obvious distaste. he held the bars of his cell tightly, looking into your eyes imploringly for any sign of validation. "aren't... aren't you proud of me?"

you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "no. you can't just hurt other people for my sake. i'm your warden. i can handle a few snarky comments." he had always been rather attached to you, but he had been acting overly clingy and whiny in the past few weeks. you wondered if solitary confinement was finally getting to his head.

at your words, he crumbled a little, sadness evident in the lines of his pout. your approval meant everything to him, so you being annoyed with him was the worst feeling in the world. but all of a sudden, he perked back up, seemingly coming up with a devilish idea. his voice dropped to a low whisper. "you know.... if you're that upset with me, i'm always ready for punishment." to get his point across, he pressed his ass to the bars, moaning softly as he felt the cold metal graze his hole. "a spanking would be perfect."

you immediately took a step back, glaring at him. "i don't believe in corporal punishment." you said sternly, trying to deter him from getting any more perverted ideas in his head. "you're not even really interested in getting better, are you?"

"whaaat. i am! come onnnnn. the only way you can get me to behave is if you spank me. i'll be a good boy. i promise."

"you know what would be a better punishment?"

"what?" his eyes light up at the thought of you taking the initiative to put him in his place.

"if i don't partake in your twisted scenarios and leave right now. try not to get into any more fights, okay?" you walked away, shaking your head as you wondered what on earth you would do with this pathetic man.

"seriously? no! come back...." he whined, slumping back down onto his bed, defeated. but at least he had got your attention with that stunt... you had been paying far more attention to the other inmates recently.

he giggles to himself, staring up at the ceiling of his cell. a few years meant nothing, if it meant that once he was out he could live out the rest of his days as your malewife, taking care of your every need. that was the one thing keeping him going. you wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him of his fantasy, would you?

#sub yandere #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #male reader #gn reader #dom reader #male yandere

[devourable]

your first time • yanderes x reader, part one

nsfw, minors and ageless dni ;; smut (duh), virgin top x bottom gn reader, various kinks that will be tagged per character.

ft. abraham (yandere church boy), sterling (yandere prodigy), gene (yandere hacker), tobias and sebastian (yandere best friends), and mykolas (yandere monster)

this part will just be the guys (excluding the delinquents)! i wanted to put most of my polyamorous groups as well as the girls and enbies in part two. decided last minute to change it a bit and make it sort of ambiguous as to if the reader is a virgin or not. regardless!

thanks again for 2k 🫶

the church boy — abraham atkins ;; dacryphilia, elements of sizeplay, mentions of religion

abraham thought his first time would be well into the future, after he’d gotten married at his church and whisked off to start his own family like his father before him. it was just a part of life to him, not something to really care about or look forward to; but it was supposed to happen that way. but abe… he just couldn’t resist you!

he knew he shouldve stopped you the moment you had found yourself on his lap, pinning him to his bed after what was supposed to be an sleepover had gone completely off course. and he should’ve stopped you when you got your tongue in his mouth, grinded on him, getting him hard for practically the first time in his life. he should’ve stopped things before they went too far — but he couldn’t stop you. or himself, after he started to clumsily hump you back, his hands finding and delicately groping your ass in an attempt to figure out how he could fit against you best. abe has such an innocent hunger about him, he so desperately wants more — more what, exactly? he doesn't really know. you definitely end up having to take lead because he wholeheartedly doesn't know what he's doing.

but once you coax him out of his nerves and a bit of trial and error (he absolutely wouldn't have fit in you dry; and even after you taught him how to work you open and got his dick wet enough, it was still a tight fit!), you finally, finally get him inside you. and abe, poor abe didn't even know what hit him. despite the tears tumbling down his face purely from how good you felt around him, despite the deep rooted guilt of committing such a sin with the one he loved clawing at his chest, he couldn’t help how brutally he ended up fucking you. he’d pour out all of his pent up desire into you in one night, fucking you through climax after climax till you were seeing stars too.

the prodigy — sterling cygnus ;; overstimulation, risky(ish) setting/exhibitionism

it must all be a game to you, his feelings and this weird dynamic in your relationship. even when the two of you actually start dating (…sorta), he still had it in his head that you were just trying to fuck with him. what other reason could there be to explain how he felt aside from it being your fault?

it was when the two of you were in his dorm that he actually decided to push your boundaries, see what you would let him do before your ‘facade’ finally cracked. but you didn’t stop him when he pinned you against your bed, or when he started kissing you, or when the kiss transformed into an unintentionally heated makeout session. it wasn’t until you had started to pull off your shirt and palm at him through his pants that he started to think that you might’ve actually wanted him.

sterling didn’t really know how it went so far, but he stopped caring when the absolute carnal need to just feel you took over his brain. you must’ve assumed that he didn’t know how to make you feel good because he’s inexperienced, right? no? well, he doesn’t believe you. and to ensure you do, you’re not getting out of that dorm until he’s made you cum on him again, and again, and again. you’d have to think he’s playing with you at some point with how often he switches between fucking you and fingering you — he insists on making you cum both ways as many times as you can handle. he’s rattling the walls and got you sobbing his name so loud that no doubt the entire dorm can hear you (the walls were never that thick to begin with anyway). he relishes in not only knowing he’s completely claimed you, but now all of your colleagues will know too. he doesn’t care how much of a mess he’s making with your insides or how much of him spills out of you, nor does he care if you’re exhausted and sore from the waist down. you’re not done until he’s done with you — and being the overachiever he is, who knows when that’ll be? he’d hate to leave you thinking he’s anything but your number one.

the hacker — gene eliades ;; a lil dubcon-y, filming w/o reader’s knowledge

gene had waited for you to make a move on him first, he really did. he even tried enticing you in his own way, always sitting with his legs open so you could see the very clear outline of his dick through his pants, sitting you on his lap when he was working and keeping a hand on your body at all times. he’d kiss you, tell you how crazy you drove him, anything to give you an idea of what he wanted. but you never took that extra step and it left him wondering if it was because you were toying with him or if you really were that dense. either way, he had had enough, and after one particular day where the need burning in the pit of his stomach just wouldn’t go away, he decided that he wouldn’t wait anymore.

when you tried to slip off of his leg to do something, his arm curled around your waist and pulled you square into his lap, making sure you felt every inch of his erection against your ass. you were so irresponsible, constantly getting him riled up and never doing anything about it. did you even like him at all? regardless of your answer he was already sliding his hands under your clothes, groping your chest with one and working your bottoms down with the other.

it was unceremonious, the way gene bent you over his desk and buried himself up to the hilt in you before you could even voice any potential protests. but the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you made your mind go blank, unable to do anything but moan his name every time he pulled you back against him. god, he loved hearing the way you whimpered for him, feeling you stretch around him when he fucked you just a bit too hard, the way your hips fit so nicely in his hands.

it was a good thing you were too fucked out to notice the little light next to his webcam aimed down at you. you wouldn’t mind if you did, he assumed — there was nothing wrong with wanting to remember this moment later, was there?

the boys next door — tobias & sebastian ;; double penetration, threesome

the pair had fantasized about losing their virginity to you years before it actually happened. the amount of times they’d gotten each other off with your name falling from their lips was too many to count, but god knows it just wasn’t enough for the two. but they never acted on those feelings, not until they had planned out the day to ensure it would be perfect.

you did find it a bit suspicious that the first time you were all free for the weekend at the same time was on the night that toby’s parents went out for an unplanned vacation, but you easily overlooked it when the pair offered you a sleepover (for old time’s sake!), bribed with promises of your favorite snacks and whatever movies you wanted to watch. you were sandwiched between the two in your best friend’s room, oh so aware of the growing tension but unsure where it was leading to — but then toby suddenly asked to kiss you. and what you assumed would be a playful peck ended with you pinned to the bed with tobias holding your wrists while sebastian made himself comfortable between your legs.

they really like you, and they know you like them too — you wanna be their first, don’t you? be their special someone? that’s what toby’s asking between kisses while seb’s lifting your shirt and sliding a hand down the front of your pants. it wasn’t until you finally gave them the permission they’d waited so long for that the pair allowed themself to really get the night started.

toby was the first to break you in while seb held you in his lap. it was a shame the pair didn’t think to record the moment… the face you made when toby fucked into you was so cute! and the noise you made when seb slid under you to try and squeeze into you alongside toby would play in their minds over and over again. they might’ve pushed you a bit too hard, stretching you well beyond your limit without even letting you catch your breath. they just couldn’t resist! you were clamping down on them, sucking them both in like you didn’t wanna let them go. it felt so good to make you cum.

the two were still up long after you had passed out, ogling your ruined state with an undeniable urge to fuck you up even more. they saw it like a badge of honor, proof that you’d always be theirs. the two would let you rest for the time being, but don’t worry — they still had an entire weekend with you ahead, and they didn’t plan on letting you step foot outside that house till their time was up.

the beast — mykolas ;; teratophilia (duh), size difference, outercourse/thighfucking

mykolas really, really didn’t want to hurt you. he was well aware of how big he was, especially compared to you — if you got hurt because he couldn’t control himself, he wouldn’t know what to do!

all of those thoughts were completely disregarded when he started rutting, though. the poor monster couldn’t think straight with his hormones running amok, and you being you — so soft, so small, so vulnerable, it was like you were designed to torture him through the season. you’d very quickly catch on to what was happening to your monstrous partner, considering you’d often be woken up by him grinding up against your back or stomach in a desperate bid to try and relieve the borderline painfully throbbing cock that was bothering him more and more these days. and though he’d never make his needs known vocally, you could just tell — that sad, pleading look he’d give you every time you looked at his pitiful form was just begging you to take care of him.

you knew for certain that you couldn’t just fuck him in his current state. his cock practically matched the length of your torso! and with how reckless his hormones were making him, the possibility of him ‘accidentally’ making you take more than you could handle was too high, even if you did try to take control. so to work around this problem, you opted to get a bit creative with your methods.

mykolas didn’t quite understand what was going on at first when you bent over in front of him, pants pulled down to your knees. but when you guided him between your legs and clamped your thighs around his length, you could tell the switch in his brain had flipped and he completely allowed instinct to take over. you had no clue just how good it’d feel when mykolas’s hard, wet cock rutted against you relentlessly until he was gripping your waist and pulling you against him, fucking your thighs like you were his living fleshlight. but fuck, the way he managed to slide against every sensitive spot he had access to despite his carnal state was nearly driving you insane. and mykolas delighted in the way you clawed at the ground and mewled for him, your voice so pretty when you stammered out his name. it didn’t take long for either of you to cum at that rate.

despite the mess mykolas made of your thighs and stomach, though, he wouldn’t let you get off him. he’d been pent up for so long, repressing his desire to mate with you, he couldn’t just stop there! so he went again, and again, humping you in any position he could think of, pinning you down, thoroughly wrecking you as best as he could. you were gonna be in for a rough mating season now that mykie knew how to relieve himself with you — but you didn’t mind, he assumed. you were the one that showed him how to feel better, after all.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x oc #yandere boy #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yancore #yandere monster #yandere male x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #yandere nsft #yandere x reader smut #yandere smut imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #gn reader #gender neutral reader #xv ;; the devil — my writing #⛪️ abraham a. ;; the church boy #🪶 sterling c. ;; the prodigy #🖥️ gene e. ;; the hacker #🍀 tobias l. & sebastian l. ;; the neighbors #🌲 mykolas ;; the beast

[yanaleese]

Honestly, Karma, let’s get married. Fuck the certificate and family after our asses, I wanna elope like the colors and stars evident within the Milky Way.

Oh he would happily say yes!!!

Just make sure Kallisto doesn't find you first...

<3

#karma #karma ask #kallisto #karma brothers #aleese comments #qc #I'm sorry but this art is so fucking CUTE :sobbbbbb #ugh I love doing chibi karma #kallisto also came out pretty good... #especially w that middle finger LOL #yandere boy #yandere #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yancore #yanblr #yandere art #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #soft yandere #yanderecore #yandere male #yande.re #yandere brother #yandere mafia #yandere x male darling #yandere community