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#yandere critique
doomdoomofdoom · 2 months
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One of my favorite genres of video essay is some guy spending an excessive amount of time describing in detail why they're mildly to moderately discontent with a piece of media.
Like yes please tell me for 13 hours why the Hobbit Trilogy (which in the extended version has a runtime of 9 hours and 40 minutes) is "not very good".
It's such an inconsequential thing and I fucking love hearing the little dudes in my computer rant about it for incredibly long periods of time while they're fully aware of how inconsequential it is.
Special Shoutouts to hbomberguys critiques of Sherlock and RWBY as well as Dominic Nobles coverage of the 50 Shades series and adaptations and Folding Ideas doing the same.
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suiana · 2 months
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(yandere! artist x gn! reader) (this was funnier in my head)
"..."
"..."
"Erm-"
"Just wait a minute... I'm almost done..."
You purse your lips, holding the position reluctantly as you eye the artist. You feel your body shiver lightly, a sign that the cold air in the room was starting to get to you.
However, you could only let out a small sigh, staring at the artist who was painting your nude body with the most focused look you've ever seen. You know things would be worse if you defied him.
What were you even doing right now? You couldn't believe you'd actually allow him to paint your naked body in exchange for money and some freedom!
But... It was just too tempting. Things were starting to get a little boring after all.
Plus, you know he'd make you model for him either way. You'd rather do it willingly and get rewarded than be forced to do it and get punished. And either way, you know that it wouldn't be sexual. You know he'd be too focused on getting everything right to focus on his desires.
"Darling could you come here please?"
He mumbles, eyes focused on the easel as he continues to paint. You feel yourself rejoice slightly as you stand up and make your way over to him. You grab his jacket and wrap it around your body.
You relish in the warmth, snuggling into his jacket. But your comfort didn't last long, for he made you sit in his lap as he pointed out some mistakes that only he could see.
"The lighting over here looks a bit too hard... And the strokes here-"
You didn't bother listening to his complaints. I mean, it's not like you were an artist or anything but even then, you could tell the painting was a piece of art. Everything looked perfect to you, and you couldn't see the mistakes that he pointed out.
But you suppose that it was because he was an artist and that was his art. Therefore it would make sense for him to critique it more sternly.
"Darling you're too beautiful... I can never paint you perfectly."
He mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze slightly, still not used to his touches before relaxing as you stare at the painting.
Even if you hated this guy for forcing you to be with him... You couldn't lie that he was an art genius. And you just couldn't understand why he thinks you're like this perfect being. This painting made you look like a heavenly angel!
"Um... I think the painting is amazing... I think it's good enough-"
"Darling, it will never be enough."
He looks up from his position, eyelashes fluttering as he tightens his grip on your waist.
"Why won't you understand that you're the perfect muse? Give yourself more credit..."
He sighs in bliss, nuzzling your neck with his cheek as you grow slightly exasperated with him. Damn, you can't believe that an NPC like you managed to get him to fall for you.
You shiver again, feeling the cold air hit your bare legs as you sit in his lap, enjoying the warmth his body radiated. Now, the painting looks done so...
"So um can I wear clothes now?"
"No."
"Damn."
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oncomingnight · 10 months
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Yandere! Artist
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Lorenzo was an incredibly well-groomed man. Only ever wearing the best tailored suits, minimalistic patterned ties and perfectly polished loafers. His mindset and obsessive tendencies completely contradict his organized persona.
A vast array of his works are just murals and life-sized portraits of you. Never in his life has he seen such an undeniable beauty like you, the closest anyone else other than him will get to admiring you is on the canvas. The two of you will be at the opening of one of his exhibitions watching everyone stand and stare at his works of you, it's an odd feeling but it's nice to witness how extensive his love for you is.
It's not that rare of an occurrence for someone to approach the both of you in public and start the conversation off with:
"So, the man and woman of the hour!"
Lorenzo has several works of his that he'll never allow anyone see, he keeps them a secret from the public eye. These private crafts consist of ceramic forms of your naked body, he never creates them for sexual pleasure but more so to admire every little crease and mark on your body when you're not there with him. He's also not known for ceramics but rather paintings in the style of impressionism and realism.
He has a friend group filled with people that are involved in the art scene, like, poets, architects, film directors, song artists and other well known painters. His presence in the art scene is pretty prominent as he's had books and articles written about his work and the supposed meanings behind them. When other artists are being interviewed and the topic of inspirations is brought up, his name is dropped all of the time.
Lorenzo grew up on a farm in a little agricultural town. He got used to churning butter, helping his father determine which produce was ripe, cutting homegrown vegetables on a creaky wooden table. He enjoyed this upbringing as it prepared him to make his own meals with what he had and how to grow food the correct way. Now, as he moved away from the countryside and into an immensely populated city, he always drives downtown to the farmers' market to not only get a sense of home but to get his groceries in a reliable space.
His love languages are all five of them; quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts and physical touch. During the most unexpected moments, he will place a framed portrait of you that he painted with the upmost attention in your hands. He will take you on a day-long trip to an area that you mindlessly mentioned of wanting to visit, taking you on a shopping spree to purchase anything you want and maybe he'll purchase an Italian leather jacket for himself.
Lorenzo really enjoys reading books but the genres he favors the most are philosophy, auto-biographies and (art) history.
He is an incredibly classy and proper man so when it comes to confronting somebody, he uses knowledge and soft insults to shoot them down. The two of you were at an opera that Lorenzo had dragged you to, and when a singer that was previously flirting with you walked on stage, he couldn't hide his disdain for the man. Lorenzo began critiquing their shrilling voice and off-key notes
"Isn't he supposed to be an alto? He's practically yelling as if it's spring break and he's a school boy." "Rossini didn't compose it that way, why did they alter it?" "My goodness, we should've never came, come, let's leave."
He can be a bit petty but there's no limits to the things he'd do for you.
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
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Title: Scarlet and Gold.
Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.1k.
TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.
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By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.
You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.
You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”
“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”
You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”
He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”
“About the assignment, ‘luc.”
“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”
You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.
Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.
“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”
He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.
Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.
With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.
You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.
You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”
He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”
“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”
His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”
~
By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.
You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.
“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”
Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.
After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”
“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”
Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”
“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”
You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”
You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”
You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”
With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”
“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”
A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”
“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”
“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”
It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.
“It’s perfect.”
~
By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.
With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.
You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.
You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”
You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”
“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”
This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”
He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.
~
By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.
It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.
You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—
And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.
After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”
Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.
You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”
 He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.
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daze4all · 2 months
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Honkai Star Rail Imagine: 7 days a week of Yandere! Sugar Daddy's x Darling! Reader
You never intended to be involved with 7 men. You were just trying to make a living doing odd jobs. Whatever you could take, and they just wanted to take whatever you could offer them. Even if it was just that day…although they often forgot you weren’t just theirs to hold…
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Maid for Hire! Reader x Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Blade,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Next Set: Dan Heng, Sunday, Argenti, Jing Yuan TBA
Inspired by Seven Jung Kook) 'Seven (feat. Latto)' 
Part 1: 1st Meeting, Domestic , Doting and Dating Second Part on smut to come...
Sugar Daddy 1. Dr. Ratio
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Monday – Teacher! Ratio x Housekeeper/ Student! Reader
Monday starts off the week with lessons from Dr Ratio in return for chores and reward for being such a good student …
Domestic Life with Ratio hired as Housekeeper
Dr. Ratio had hired you on as housekeeper to clean his house, lab, and his library. For such a scholar his house got surprisingly messy. hH was constantly poring over scroll and forgotten tomes.
Dr Ratio was so invested in his studies that sometimes he even forgot to eat. SO it was your job to cook and prepares meal balanced on tray while he evaluated your cooking “
 “Seven out ten. The taste is good, but the presentation is lacking. Try Harder next time” Ratio would say with barely a glance your way. Unknowing he was watching you over his book secretly.  
Even on days that Dr. Ratio proclaimed the food you prepared was “urgh disgusting. One out of ten.” He would eat it without another complaint. Simply saying “Add more salt next time” while studying his books intently. Or “ I suppose it will do “No effort should be wasted”
Under his critique, your food did get better as did your cleaning skills as he detailed precisely how he wanted his old books preserved and cleaned carefully. It was detailed work to but satisfying when praised by Dr. Ratio  for a “10 out 10”
2. Ratio Decides to Teach when he sees you Reading instead of Cleaning
You never had such an extensive education as the old novels in his library could provide. While cleaning the shelves you couldn’t help taking a peek. Soon you found yourself cross legged on floor drawn into the world of words before you knew it the duster forgotten.
Ratio stumbled upon you like this. The light hitting your face.  He traced your face an open book as you ohhed  and ahed at each twist and turn in the story.
He smiled wryly amused when you mouthed new words stumbling over the production. One word you messed up so badly he interrupted “It is stupendous?
Startled you snapped the book closer apologies spilling from you plushi lips “ I’ll get right back to work sir”
No Need in fact…how about you be my test subject student and Shall I teach you” Dr. Ratio had commanded and so your lessons with Dr. Ratio began.
3. Dr. Ratio Teaches You a Lesson in Attraction
Teaching was his joy and passion though he was so smart, and you could only marvel at his genius in silence when he rambled random theories  to you.
Often he just wanted you as a sounding board  “ A measure of what ignoramus, I may have to teach and pound sense into their brain.” he commented to you
After all, He firmly believed that  “No matter how ignorant a pupil can soon be a peer once  taught”
As embarrassment and desire burning through you as the very handsome man hovered over your shoulder to correct you.
“ No its like this let me show you” Dr Ratio without preamble would smoothly directed your shaking hands to write the right word.  “Why are you shaking?”
His genius mind immediately deduced your attraction to him when you started behavior oddly around him.
After all, he wasn’t unaware of your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chest hip and lips with flushed blush.
After all he wasn’t unaware your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chests hip and lips with flushed blush.
He too watched you.
At first simply to observe as he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the human body similar to the bust, he wore.
It was inevitable that working in close quarters and learning each other habits that you crossed the line…as he took so much pleasure in teaching and punishing you .
Then idly while teaching or reading he would follow the lines of your face to the back of your neck sloped over your study book.
“Perhaps a carrot and stick method would be a better lesson plan” Dr. Ratio would muse as you struggled through the practice books as he settled you once on his lap. His breaths in your ear and you blushed conscious of his closeness.
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Tuesday-  Escort! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Aventurine
 Tuesday – Aventurine
With Aventurine you were the most casual and comfortable. He was businessman and knew a steal of deal when he saw it and he had to have you for day.
A gamble for charity he raised the stakes so high and won you for a date as the highest winning bet for the night. Dates that continued every Tuesday from then on.
Flirty banter was common for you two and soon you had charmed each other.  His double hued hypnotic eyes and devil may care attitude and charisma easing as you stepped off the stage “Hello, friend happy to have such a lovely lady for the evening”
His false flirty lines promised this was just another business deal and a game to him. A friend you would fuck from time to time for fun. However he kept making than that.
His tasks ranged from keeping his penthouse tidy, to being his dress up doll, to keeping him entertained.
When he was tired. A domestic day of cooking dinner and fixing his bath. Other times there would be surprise present in the houses.
Often scandalous lingerie and slips for his eyes alone to greet him. Sometimes elegant costly gowns to wear out to a business party’s as his plus one. If not it was a party dress sparkly and skintight and showing skin only he could touch.
would be perched on his knee or crushed by his side at a casino or stately business dinner .
“My Lucky charm~” Aventurine would sing to his clients as he rolled the dice for yet another winning deal flashing a smile and pressing a kiss to the pulse of your neck.  
Despite his flippant and teasing nature, he promised when going to sleazy parties “Don’t worry I’ll protect you. No one will dare mess with me here”
 Aventurine was almost always a night owl keeping you up for partying or for pleasure in his bedroom. Despite intimately knowing your deal as a creditor he was the most possessive and took advantage of it the most.
Wednesday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories
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First Meeting with Blade: Kafka sets you guy’s Up
A good guy was too sweet for you it hurt but a bad boy was what you deserved and could turn the pain into pleasure.
It was simple with Blade. Lay back and let him break you. You did help clean up the base from time to time as a housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.
It had been like that since the first day  you met him but funny enough unlike the other men he didn’t seek you out.
The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider like coat weaved a web to capture the flower and delivered you to the beast called Blade. Honesty from her initial description you though he was cat you were cat sitting at first or you might to have taken the job.
 “Help me, help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison.
 “What the hell is this” demanded Blade seeing you a stranger all dolled up like a a bright flower in his bedroom. Weak and fragile and sure to break if he touched it.
“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during practice and occupy yourself with more pleasurable activites, have fun. Live a little!~” Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both
Meeting his burning eyes you gulped nervously. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to squirm free.
Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it, if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him from consuming you whole during his sessions.
Side note Poly!Reader Background  might be….:
-A maid for hire just looking to clean a house but get caught up with yandere men wanting her for more services that may or may not be implied on the site that she may or may not know about
Could also be Sugar Baby/Polymarous/Host/Rent a girlfriend/Housekeeper/Escort! Reader
- Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates
- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.
- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?
-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol
- Reader is a  Succubus maybe and craves and needs many men’s seed for their  male life Essence to live and cannot take from one too often or he dies from having too much
Inspired by the Genshin Version written by liljojo genshin sugar daddies
702 notes · View notes
yndrgrl · 3 months
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yandere! bakugo, the no. one hero in japan, is your boss, & you're his personal assistant
soft! yandere. fem! reader. pro hero! au. willing! reader. long ass fic. ooc! bakugo.
warnings: nsfw, power dynamic, implied age gap (not too big tho lmao), p-in-v, obsessive behavior, stalking, toys, slight coercion
a/n: guys... what's the "read more" feature 💀
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you are a phenomenon, at least in the world of working under big-league heroes you are. traditionally, employees that have five years of experience under the company will most likely get the position of secretary, then after years of being a secretary, they have an opportunity to be promoted to personal assistant. so when you, a random, nobody college student with only dead end job experiences on your resume, got hired as his secretary -after applying as a joke- the office was buzzing with rumors & critiques. you knew that they all harshly judged you by the way they glared at you when you left after your second interview with big boss man himself. you were self-conscious, especially after you got that fateful call from dynamight's personal phone that you've gotten the job. insecure, that's what you felt.
dynamight, on the other hand, didn't feel the need to explain himself to anyone. he honestly couldn't care less about the chatter circulating his office.
from an outsider's (& anyone else's to be honest) perspective, it seemed like a terrible choice to hire you. however, dynamight knew what he was doing; he knew you.
he saved you once upon a time, when he first debuted as a pro hero. you could never forget the ruby color of his eyes, the scars & soot that he was covered in. you could never forget the serious expression he wore as he carried you to safety.
at first, you were just another damn civilian caught in the crossfire between him & a gang of wannabe mastermind villains, then he looked into your eyes-- your captivating, watery, (color) eyes. his breath hitched as his gaze pierced through yours. he blamed it on a quirk you might have. fall-in-love-with-a-single-gaze quirk? yeah, that must be it, he thought.
your first encounter left you both in a confusing state of emotions, but you soon considered it a distant memory of tragedy then hope. it sparked a -seemingly- unachievable dream to, one day, work under dynamight. you remember him all to well, & sometimes, when you think about it too much, you tear up that such an influential figure in your life will never remember you in the same light.
or so you thought.
unaware, you thought he forgot all about you, but no. he thought of you everyday. he cursed himself for never saying anything more than, "are you alright?" then guiding you to the paramedics. he never got your name, & he hated himself for it. for years, he would look for your face in the crowd. his heart would flutter when he thought he saw your doe-like expression-- until he gave them a closer look, & it wasn't you.
& so, when you walked into his office building just as he was leaving through a different exit, he caught a glimpse of you. he did a double-take, slowed his pace, & his ruby eyes grew wide. it was you going into the interview room. "mr. bakugo, this way, please," a stranger guided him, yet he couldn't rip his gaze from the room. you were right there, & he can't even talk to you. he was being rushed off into a black suv to go to some random conference.
as soon as he got back to the office, he racked through all the resumes, quizzing the interviewer that day about every applicant. his temples ached as she kept talking, but he couldn't get too mad at her. after all, he told her to tell him about every single person she interviewed today. "-then before my lunch, the cutest, little lady came in. it was clearly her first time interviewing for such a position," the older woman chuckled. dynamight's ears perked up. could it be?
"tell me more," the blonde inquired.
"oh, you know. it's just her resume wasn't the most impressive compared to everyone else's."
he wanted to ask what she looked like, but that would he too out of character for him. however, he knew that if he let her keep talking, she would describe her in more detail.
"is that so?"
"oh yes, but she was so sweet that i wanted to offer her an intern position instead. she seemed so eager, you know? she honestly looks like a girl i once taught. did i ever tell you that i was a teacher, bakugo?" she questioned, having a tendency to go on tangents
"i do remember you telling me about that," he told her. he's grown into a gentleman through out the years... or he's just a little less of an asshole, it's hard to tell. he's grown more respectful for his elders (as in the senior citizens who love reminiscing of their youth, not the "elders" who are snakey businessmen). "how were they alike?"
"oh, man, you're really testing my memory," she laughed, "they both had the most beautiful, (color) hair, but the girl i interviewed was definitely not my old student, i think. (y/n), the young woman i interviewed, had such a fun style too! i think her eyes were... actually i don't remember," the woman paused for a second, before her eyes lit up. "wait! she took a picture for our system! you have to see her, bakugo, she's really just the cutest. i think she would make a great intern, & maybe one day, a great secretary!" with a few clicks of her mouse & words typed on her keyboard, she pulled up a picture of a woman, a picture of you. she turned her screen towards the pro hero. it was you.
~
"so, (y/n), is it?" your boss, the dynamight, sat across from you, a desk in between the two of you. he acted like he had no idea who you were, even though he spends the majority of the day in office watching your through surveillance cameras. he just loved the way you walked with such subconscious confidence.
"y-yes, sir," you cleared your throat. what kind of impression are you making by stuttering?
you were warned by all your coworkers that dynamight does take shit, that he is a tyrant, & that he can smell fear. naturally, you were sweating bullets. "please, call me katsuki," he requested. he watched your brows furrow in confusion before snapping back to a relaxed expression. "you've been working here for a little over a month, is that right?"
you were bewildered. you felt like your coworkers lied to you about him being so rude & uncooperative. he seemed nice, stern, yes, but nice nonetheless.
the shocking, yet welcomed, kindness eased your nerves. your lips broke into a small smile, saying, "yes, it has been."
"how has it been? working here?" he questioned, leaning back into his chair. your eyes darted from his bulky form to the window to the cup of pens on his desk. you were in a mental quarrel. for the most part, your coworkers have been alright to your face. they'll let a snarky comment come out then mask it as a joke. but you knew the rumors swimming around the office, you knew how they all thought you were under qualified. of course you were, so speculations of how you had rich parents or you're just a really good temptress started to blossom.
you could lie to save all of their sorry asses, build rapport with them, or you could tell the truth, get a more favorable outcome for yourself but be labeled a tattle-tell & a bitch.
"(y/n)? is everything alright?" katsuki's uncharacteristically softened voice called out. "you know you can tell me anything that's going on. i only have your best interests in mind, you're mine," he paused, "you're my employee."
you must've misheard him, so you shrugged it off. "can i be honest with you?"
"of course."
you took a deep breath. you're already committed. "i don't mean to already cause problems or be, you know, that girl, but there have been some things said about me by my coworkers that i just don't really like. i mean, i don't think they meant it in a rude way, but i also don't want to have the reputation that they're trying to paint for me... does that make sense?"
this is was a surprise to katsuki. he's usually in touch with all the gossip in his agency. he would be an idiot if he thought that people wouldn't be offended that he hired you over them for such a position, but he knew your charms could get you far. how can your charms get you far if no one gave you the time of day, though?
you realized your disadvantages in this job. you had no degree yet, you were probably the youngest in the office, & you have no real experiences outside of customer service. however, you didn't know that the older, more experienced workers would be so hostile to you.
"what have they been saying?" katsuki asked, leaning forward.
"they've just been saying how i must have rich parents who got me this position or like, i must be doing... favors for someone on the hiring team."
katsuki gritted his teeth, his composure slipping. it made him absolutely sick thinking about you with someone else.
you continued, "& some of the jokes they tell me feel inappropriate? but that could be just because that's their humor."
you're so cute, trying to protect them, katsuki cooed in his head.
"i'm sorry to hear your experience has been pleasant so far. i can assure you that i'll have that taken care of. who's been saying those kinds of things to you?"
"oh... um... it's hard to say. i think it's best just to send out an email to everyone because i don't really know who says those kinds of things." it's a lie, but you didn't want a big confrontation & write an official complaint so soon into your first corporate job.
"(y/n)," katsuki said in a nearly-demanding tone. "tell me the truth." he was intimidating in the blink of an eye.
"i-i promise i am," you replied, nervously scratching your knuckle. "i just... uh, don't really know who's talking about me behind my back?"
it was silent for only a moment. katsuki's eyes were glued on your smaller form. you gulped.
"i want to schedule another meeting next week to ensure that the harassment was put to a stop."
~
a week came & went, & the meeting you had with katsuki was brief. in short, he asked, "have you heard anything more?"
you replied truthfully, just as last time. "yes. it could be in my head, but it's worse now."
the company-wide email didn't work, & it enraged katsuki that his employees, the ones that work under him, are defying him with such misplaced confidence.
how dare they insult him by disobeying him, & how dare they make you feel unwelcome.
because of their antics, he has been floating around your workspace. his mere presence causes all the bothersome whispers into quiet typing. looming over your cubical, katsuki, with a ghost of a smirk, would observe your work-- how you would mess up twice as much under his gaze. "it looks good, (y/n)," he praised before looking at all of the peering coworkers. he would shoot them a glare.
he was such a good boss to you.
the more you worked at his agency, the more you saw of him. & the more you got comfortable with him. he may be your boss, but he was slowly becoming you friend, you felt. the more you saw him, the more you realized he was your work crush. what a cliche.
you sat in his office, this time with your lunch on his desk as the two of you chatted. it was the new norm to eat lunch with each other. you don't know when it happened but it was also the norm for him to order whatever you wanted. you insisted on paying him back every time, however he never let you.
"this is so good, i haven't had this in forever," you raved as you took another bite of your food. "thank you so much! i really owe you one."
"shut up," katsuki said back with a slight smirk. god, he loved spoiling you.
"no, but i do though," you said, whining. the banter between the you two sprung up after he, for the fifth time that day, stopped by your cubicle a few days ago. his humor was crude & could be consider bullying... but he's so hot-
"(y/n), you don't owe me anything. it's just a thank you for doing such good work, so don't be a dumbass & try & pay me back or something," katsuki practically yawned. he was swimming in money, so much that he didn't know what to do with it, so what better way to spend it than on you? "besides, i was your age once. you need to save."
"you're not that much older than me, just a few years," you rolled your eyes. "also, i do have a quick question."
"what is it?"
you fished two pieces of paper out of your bag. "i think there was some sort of mistake? when i got my paycheck, i got two checks?"
"yeah?"
"well, it's just... i'm one person?"
katsuki laughed out loud. he loved toying with you; he knew what you were trying to ask, but hearing you dance around the question was just too cute.
"yeah, i know that, (y/n)."
"katsuki, i'm serious!" you half-joked, half-said. "why did you send me two checks?"
"one is your payroll check," he told you; you nodded. "the other is your bonus." you had to stop yourself from dropping your jaw
"wait, what? i still don't get it," you replied. "my paycheck is too much. i don't usually get this much."
"i gave you a raise," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "didn't you read my email i sent?"
"o-oh... yes, of course-"
he shot you a look that said, "don't bullshit me."
"okay, i didn't... but still! i didn't even do anything to get a raise."
"whatever, just eat you food."
the next day, his heart swelled (more than usual) when you walked through the door. you were practically glowing in a new, clearly expensive outfit, your hair done, nails painted, & a gorgeous smile gracing your lips.
"someone's happy," he commented as he followed you to your cubicle. "what's the big deal?"
"i don't know, i just had a lot more money saved up than i thought so i decided to treat myself out," you admitted, gitty.
you dolled yourself up with the money he gave you. it only made him want to spoil you more, shower you with gifts & give you whatever you want.
"i'm glad you're enjoying your raise," he chuckled, a smirk on his face because, in his peripheral, he could see your coworkers' jaws drop in disbelief. he leaned close, brushed your silky hair away from your neck, behind your ear. katsuki whispered, "you've been so good, you deserve it." your face exploded into a shade of bright pink as you stuttered out a thank you.
you couldn't get that moment out of your head. the thought burned itself into your memory. it made your core throb. he was so close to your face, you could smell his expensive cologne. it was intoxicating. he made you just so desperate.
after a long work day, you got back to your cozy, one-bedroom apartment, and a package awaited your doorstep. katsuki, from a security camera he secretly installed, watched you bring it into your house. you went straight into your bedroom & placed it on your desk.
you spent so much already, what more could you have gotten? it's not like he's complaining. he's happy to provide for you. you're just so cute; you act like you've never seen money in your life. he wants to show you how good life can be with him.
you slid the blade of a pair of scissors across the tape of the box. eager, you unboxed the product, rubbing your thighs together.
"what are you up to, hm?" he whispered to himself. he chewed his lip, cock already semi-hard because of your after-work attire-- which was compression shorts & an oversized, white tee without a bra.
you ran to the bathroom, all he could hear was the water running. you were too quick for the camera to render. one minute you were your room, then the bathroom, then back into your room. there was a sneaky grin on your face as you hummed in approval.
your body was blocking what you bought until you walked away to grab something else from your bed stand drawer. katsuki's eyes widened. standing straight up (with a slight left curve) was a silicone dildo colored a fleshy pink. next to it was a ripped-open box that it came out of; "pro hero dynamight replica dildo! life-like! bring your dynamight dreams to life!" the box read.
he twitched, it was comical, could be considered creepy to some. but to him, it riled him up. this meant you wanted him, needed him, just as he needed you.
you swiftly came back to the toy with a bottle in hand. you laid a towel on your seat before sitting down. logging onto your computer, you couldn't help but feel utterly ashamed, embarrassed, but it's not like anyone is watching you, so no one would know. there was a knot pent up in your stomach, begging to be massaged out. you pulled up a video of your boss, the dynamight, where it was showcase of -what fans called- daddy/sexy/hot moments of his. you were so embarrassed, but he was the only one who could satisfy your craving.
god, i'm such a creep, you scolded yourself as you took off your shorts & panties. just an awful, horny weirdo, you thought. the toy you bought was big & girthy, & it was clearly artificial because there's no world where man can actually get that big, right? you prepped yourself by circling your clit with your middle finger, then dove into your wet hole with three fingers. you let out a sigh of ecstasy.
you poured lube onto your toy, then you began stroking it to coat every inch & "vein". katsuki already had his cock in his hand, matching the tempo of your strokes, beads of precum leaking out of his tip. "fuck, (y/n)," he muttered with his eyes glued to the screen. you're katsuki's little camgirl.
you took the dildo, closed your eyes, & began mentally preparing yourself for the toy. you've never taken anything this big. slowly, you pushed the dick into your wet pussy with your breath held. once it was half way inside, you let out a shaky groan, trying to adjust to the size. "ngh~ ah~ k-kats-suki," you whimpered, the video still playing clips of him.
"(y/n)," katsuki moaned back, wishing you could hear him. "put it all the way in."
you must've been put on this earth to obey him because, after he said that, you sunk the dildo into pussy. you let out a squeal; your eyes shot open only to roll in the back of you head. "so big," you whined. you waited for yourself to adjust. with your feet on the rests of the chair & one hand on your clit & the other one pumping the dildo in & out of your hole, katsuki started to screen record everything.
"harder, baby," he demanded, "go fuckin' harder."
you were in your own world, acting as though he were there with you. "p-please katsuki." you started to thrust the toy in all the way, taking it nearly out, then shoving it back in. you did it as fast as you could, but it still wasn't enough. you bucked your hips into the dildo. "uh~ mmm~ fuuuck."
while still in your pussy, you set your legs down & placed the base of the dildo on the chair. you started to ride the toy, its artificial veins wracking against your nerves, sending electric shocks up your spine. your ass & thighs jiggled every time you lifted your hips & shot them back down; katsuki was mesmerized.
his hand tightly jerked his hard cock, more precum leaking out. there was nothing else that mattered except you; his phone buzzed from notifications sent by his friends & colleagues. he couldn't tear his eyes from your sexy figure, bouncing up & down the dildo.
"k-katsuki! 'm cumming!" you moaned out. you threw your head back, mouth agape, your riding becoming erratic.
it was music to his ears-- you yelling his name. "baby, cum~" he replied, as if it were the real deal. as if you were actually there with him, as if you were the one squeezing his throbbing dick. he watched as your back arched & your body spasmed around the dildo. you kept calling out for katsuki until your high ran out. you cleaned up, hid the toy in your bottom drawer, did your nightly routine as if nothing happened, then went to sleep.
katsuki, still hard even after cumming, needed more.
the next day, you woke up with sore thighs & a distinct throb in between your legs. even after fucking yourself silly with the dynamight toy, it didn't satiate your hunger. you were embarrassed that you thought of your boss that way. you couldn't help but feel ashamed; it felt so good. it felt so good thinking, fantasizing, about katsuki's muscular physique, his thick, hard cock pumping in & out of you. it almost felt right to think of him that way.
while your head was still clouded with lust, you put on a black, lace thong under your pencil skirt that was just barely long enough to be considered work-appropriate. you wore translucent, black tights underneath & a cute pair of mary janes. your shirt was tight fitting. it eventuated every curve of your body in the most flattering way, &, feeling confident, you unbuttoned the first two to show a bit of your collarbone, nothing more. finally, you did your hair & makeup & cooked yourself a quick breakfast, then you were off to work.
at work, you just had an aura about you-- satisfied, calm, & joyful. you must've gotten a good night's rest, thought you coworkers.
katsuki knew better though.
as you strutted to his office, you had a pep -& a slight limp- to your step. you held a binder close to your chest. you felt like a stereotypical secretary in one of those cheesy, horny 2000's movies. you gently knocked on katsuki's office door, & heard a faint, "come in."
"good morning," you smiled as you sauntered closer to his mahogany desk. you plopped yourself down in the same seat you always do & set your binder down on his desk; he never minded.
he had his eyes trained on you, darker than usual, & greeted back, "good morning, (y/n). how are you?"
"i'm doing good, how are you?" you responded, an innocent smile flashed towards him.
you were anything but innocent, katsuki thought. "i'm actually having a tough morning." this shocked you because katsuki really didn't seem like the type to open up, especially to some random employee he hired.
"i'm sorry to hear that," you said, "can i ask why?"
"i've just been so... pent up," he told you, his jaw clenching for a second before he swallowed.
he didn't take his eyes off of you for a second, & you noticed. you squirmed under his serious gaze. "you are the number one hero right now. it's a lot of pressure," you tried to rationalize.
he stood up from his chair slowly, so you figured you must've overstepped. "i-i'm sorry, katsuki, i didn't mean it in a rude way," you defended, & he still hasn't responded.
he stalked closer to your chair until he was directly in front of you. you gulped, looking up at him. you didn't know whether it was appropriate to sit or stand, so you stayed still, sitting.
another awkward moment of silence passed, & you were about to look away when katsuki started, "the only other time i've been pent up like this was years ago."
"what made you stress so bad?"
"a saved a girl. she was beautiful, & i was dumb. i never got her name, i barely even talked to her. our encounter was brief, yet i couldn't take my mind off of her. for weeks, i was just so frustrated, i didn't know why. years passed & i thought i was finally over it, finally i came to terms that i would never again see her," he ranted, & you lowered gaze, breaking the eye contact. "i had searched everywhere for her. in every city i've ever visited, in every crowd that would form, in every building. i never found her. all my efforts, to waste."
you were sensitive, maybe too sensitive. your doe eyes teared up as you looked down at your lap. "i... i don't know why you're telling me this."
a warm hand cupped your chin; it guided your face upward, & there you were again, locking eyes with your boss. this time, your eyelashes stuck together with tears that have yet to fall. "i never found her, (y/n), & it hurt because i knew that i am the best for her. i gave up," he took a short pause, drinking in your defeated expression that you tried to mask, "until one day, she walked into my agency for an interview, a position she wasn't -at all- qualified for."
you swallowed the lump in your throat. "what are you saying?"
"(y/n), i've been so pent up lately," he restated, his hand still cupping your face while the other adjusted his pants. your eyes followed his other hand, widening. was he hard.. for you? "& i know you've been so stressed lately. it's such a big position, y'know. being my secretary, & all. i can understand why you're frustrated."
"i-i'm not frustrated, katsuki," you softly claimed.
he quirked a brow, his lips upturning into a smirk. "oh? is that so?" you nodded your head. "then i'm gonna need some help so i'm not as frustrated, do you think you can help me with that, hm?" he was taunting you, joking with you. he must've somehow found out about your secret crush on him, & now he's using this as a lesson then he's going to fire you.
still, foolishly, you replied, "i c-can help you with whatever you need, sir." his gentle grip turned harsh as soon as you shut your mouth. he forced you to look up, & he had an unreadable expression.
"now it's sir? what happened? you were so cute when you said my name," he growled, licking his lips. you were speechless, at a lost for words. "go on, tell me."
"i just don't want you to be mad at me," you said, cheeks flushed red. he was so close, he was making a fool of you, & he wouldn't stop staring at you. you succumbed to the mental pressure he was putting on you. you ripped your face from his vice grip as you started to ramble, turning your face away from him, "i-i don't know who told you i had a-a crush on you or whatever, b-but i was never gonna act on it, i swear! i-"
you were cut off by a sudden sting from your scalp; katsuki's fingers found themselves entangled in your silky hair. you let out a yelp in pain, & you instinctively yelled, "hey! what's your prob-" your tone lowered into a mumble, "-lem?"
your heart was beating out of you chest, just a few centimeters away from your parted lips was katsuki. in all of his glory. you had your eyes glued on him, scared to look down slightly. it was already in your sight of view. in one hand was your head, in the other was his hard, throbbing cock. "(y/n), you said you were gonna help me, didn't you?"
"uh huh," you said mindlessly as you held your breath. wide-eyed, your gaze flashed towards it then it went back up to him. he had a shit-eating smirk as he rested his heavy member in the middle of your face.
he commanded, "lick it." his cock was the length of your red hot face. he twitched when you looked at him, rubbing your thighs together.
"wh-wha?"
"i said, lick it, (y/n)."
you hesitated; you didn't even know where to begin. his length was tantalizing, girthy. his tip was leaking beads of precum. his balls were swollen & heavy. was this still a joke?
suddenly, katsuki yanked your head back. with your mouth wide open -due to the shocking pain of your hair getting pulled- he slammed his dick down your throat. his hands were on both sides of your head, & he was in complete control. "i don't like repeating myself," he harshly said, forcing you to spit all over his length. your hands shot up to his hips, & you tried to push him away, though you didn't want to.
you weren't used to such a big man; he's the biggest you've ever been with. you gagged on him, & he let out a sigh of pleasure. your eyes crossed with tears streaming down your face, your mascara ruined. your lungs started to burn & you tried to beg for air, but it only came out as muffled moans. katsuki, feeling merciful, pulled his cock out of your throat, leaving his tip on your tongue.
you inhaled deep, only deep throat him again. he repeated that action -pulling himself then shoving himself back into your warm mouth- every time going more rough. he fucked your mouth, strings of precum & spit leaking onto your lap. you didn't even realize that katsuki released his grip on you until your shirt was torn off your body.
you let out a squeal that was muted by him. "fuck, (y/n)~" your boss moaned out, unbuttoning his own shirt. "you're such a good girl f' me." through your teary eyes, you saw katsuki throw his head back.
"need you," he said. " baby, i need your pussy right fuckin' now." katsuki took himself out of your mouth, leaving you with tongue hanging out of your mouth like an animal.
he made you stand up, then he crashed his lips onto your swollen, lipstick-smeared ones. sloppily, his tongue left nowhere untouched, & all you could do was moan as he overwhelmed you. his hands caressed every part of you. he groped your tits through your bra, he squeezed the fat of your ass through your skirt, & he rubbed your clit through your stained thong. your hips started to grind on his slender fingers. "katsuki~" you said in between kisses.
that was enough to make him feral (as if it weren't already). he let out a low growl as he turned you around. katsuki, with one hand, bent you over his desk, ass up in the air. he bunched your skirt around your waist, exposing you. katsuki needed you right in that moment, so he ripped a hole in your stockings & moved your string -that's supposed to be your undergarments- out of the way. he rubbed his tip along your folds; katsuki could almost salivate. after all this years of fantasizing & frustrations, here you were, underneath his bulking size, wet & ready for him.
"please use me, sir," you cried out in a hushed, yet urgent, voice. you were begging for him. i have to be dreaming, he thought. the moment he penetrates you, he's going to wake up, he's sure of it. you had your back arched, & you looked back at him, eyes half-lidded & cheeks flushed. "take out your frustrations."
he wanted to resist, he didn't want to wake up from this ecstasy dream. but he was just a man, & pure instincts took over.
katsuki lined up his cock with your entrance & snapped his hips forward, plunging himself ball-deep into your pussy. hands clasped over your mouth, you let out a scream. he was splitting you apart, your walls stretched out to accommodate his length & girth. your dynamight toy undersold him.
katsuki, in pure bliss, stood still for a second. he drank in everything that was happening, how this wasn't a dream anymore. you were so tight & desperate, sucking him in deeper. your juices stained your ripped stockings as it dripped down your thighs. slowly & shallow, he rocked his hips against you, grinding.
soon his grinding became primal. anything that has ever stressed him was put into his thrusts, & all you could do was lay there & take it. he pistoned in & out of you, hitting your g-spot every single time. you creamed, & came, & creamed again as he abused your sensitive spot. slaps & squelches bounced off the office walls. katsuki fucked you harder into the desk, trying to make you spasm all over his cock for the fifth time when-
brring! brring!
"what the fuck," he groaned. katuski's office phone broke the sounds of years of frustration. his harsh thrusts turned half-assed as he took a glance at the phone. "DEKU," the contact name read.
"goddamn it," muttered katsuki, "god fucking damn it." that's what he gets for bullying him all those years, i guess.
"y-you should a-answer that," you said, breathless. "it m-might be important."
"yeah, yeah. i know," katsuki said before slapping your ass. on the last ring, katsuki finally picked up the phone. you thought that, out of curtsy for deku, he would've pulled out or something, but no. he was still stretching you out & he showed no intentions on pulling out.
you, by accident, squeezed his cock, your body was trying to milk him. katsuki shot you a dirty smirk while he was on the phone. "what do you want?" his gruff voice demanded.
control yourself, (y/n), you thought to yourself, you're gonna get caught if you make a sound.
katsuki, on the other hand, had one mission: make you lose composure. honestly, it's a win-win. deku hangs up the phone, & everyone will know that you're his. katsuki pressed the phone between his ear & shoulder by tilting his head while his hands gripped your hips. hand-print bruises would be left in their wake, but you didn't care.
katsuki was hitting your cervix, & that was all you could focus on. you bit your lip until it was raw, your hands clasped so tight around your mouth until it was hard to breath, & you still were letting out whimpers.
deku said, "are we still going to have that meeting this afternoon?"
katsuki kept thrusting in & out of you, just a slightly bit more gentle (but not by much). "what?" he replied. he noticed your pussy tighten, squeezing him.
"kaachan, our meeting? this afternoon? at 2:30?"
"yeah, fuckin' cancel that," he told him. katsuki, with one hand still in your hip, grabbed a fist full of your hair & pulled you up. you stood with your back arched, dick impaling you, & your hands draped to your side. your mouth was fully open with your tongue hanging out. you were so close to the phone, any sound you make would be heard.
"you can't just cancel our meeting," deku sighed. "what are you doing that is more important?"
god, deku really knew how to get under katsuki's skin. just the tone of his voice made him made, so, naturally, he took it out on your poor body. faster, he pumped his cock in & out of you, your tits spilled out of your bra & your tits jiggled with each thrust. "please," you mouthed. you were so close to cumming, & you couldn't keep it in any longer. you were starting to see white stars clouding your vision.
"i'm busy fucking, okay?" katsuki yelled into the phone, eyes trained on you like a hawk.
"wh-what?" deku sputtered out, "what did you say?" you clenched, you were so close to getting caught by the number two pro hero.
"i said, i'm fuckin' busy," &, with that, he slammed the phone down to end the call. "you. fuckin. slut." he pounded you, & you let him use your tight pussy. his fat cock slammed in & out of you relentlessly. "i bet you wanted to get caught, huh? you just want to get caught?"
"n-no! i-i don't wanna!" you told him through hiccups.
"then what we're you trying to pull?" katsuki sneered, giving a light tug to your hair. your scalp was already aching terribly good. his hand dove in between your legs. his fingers started to rub your clit while he was still balls deep inside of your hole.
"n-nothing!" you cried followed by a breath of moans. "'suki, please~ it's too much." you began to see little white stars cloud your vision. it couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes, but you can't even remember how many times you've came. you were passed the point of overstimulation, whatever that is. "i-i-" you couldn't even get another sentence out, just muttering words & trying not to scream out in overwhelming pleasure.
"you're- you're-" katsuki mocked, and he finally let go of your -now- knotted hair. you collapsed on the desk, but his hand was still toying with your clit. your small hands gripped onto his forearm. you tried to push his hand away from your sensitive spot in hopes of getting a break. instead, he kept his position while his other hand winded back & smack! a red handprint gracing your ass. "you said i could use you, remember? thought you could handle, babe," sneered katsuki into your ear. "not only are you my slut, but you're also a dirty liar."
the vice grip he had on your hip released, then his arm snaked around your neck. your chin rested where his arm bent. with every thrust, he would flex his arms, & your throat was caught in between his thick forearm & bicep. "no, i'm not," you squeaked out. your thoughts, your words, everything would get interrupted by his constant choking.
you were still such a brat, defying him. it made it more interesting, katsuki would admit. it also made him rationalize that you deserved all the overstimulation, pounding, & bruising you've received-- & have yet to receive. "oh, you're not?"
"n-no," you droned into another moan.
"so you've never thought about this? about us? about me?"
"n-"
he tightened his muscles, constricting your airway. "tell. the. fuckin'. truth," he commanded, god, he wanted to humiliate you.
&, as if on cue, you gave in. "i-i've thought 'bout y-you," you told him through whimpers. you could feel your juices leak out of you.
"good girl," katsuki purred, playing with your clit more rough. pleasure jolted up your spine, the white stars turning into tunnel vision. katsuki felt your head drop slightly, you were losing focus. your sight was blurry from the mascara & tears. "stay with me, (y/n)."
"uh huh," mindlessly, you nodded. you didn't know if you could orgasm anymore, yet you still felt that all-too-familiar knot in your stomach. your clit was swollen, your g-spot abused, throat hurting from his cock & the pressure around it. you didn't care, you've never felt more safe. "pl-please c-cum with me," you begged.
katsuki twitched inside of you. he chuckled, "if you beg like that, i don't think i can hold back, babe."
the pet names sounded like music to your ears, & a sudden rush of motivation coursed through your veins. "katsuki~" you whined, voice high-pitched.
"(y/n)," he growled lowly. was it a warning? perhaps. you didn't care, he could punish you if he ever so pleased.
"'need your cum."
"sh-" he stuttered, &, just like that, the tables were turned. "shut up.
katsuki's cool composure was slipping. giddy & still driven by pleasure & motivation, you said, "please~ i need you."
"fuck, baby."
"i-i need you to fill me up."
katsuki tensed, his arms choking you. his thrusts were erratic & shallow. every sensation -you squeezing his cock, you wetness seeping out of your pussy, all of it- was amplified. he drove his hips forward, his tip stuffed inside your cervix. "t-take it," he huffed out.
not even a second later, jets of hot cum exploded inside of you. his warmth filled you, just as you asked. he painted your pussy white, & you came all over him for a final time, your pussy pulsating, milking him for every drop. the two of you stayed in that position, relaxed. he held you in his embrace, heavy breaths on your skin. katsuki pressed butterfly kisses along nape of your neck lazily. "so good f' me," he praised into your ear as he grazed your side with his fingertips. "so beautiful."
you hummed in respond. "you're my girl, aren't you?"
"only if you take me out to dinner after this," you joked, this was just a hookup because there's no way he would think of you as anything more, you figured.
"of course, whatever you want," he responded to your surprised. he pulled out of pussy, cum leaking out of your hole. he didn't care; no, he was proud. he sat you on his lap, forehead pressed against yours. katsuki, with his thumb, stroked your cheek & sang you sweet nothings. "you took me so well. i didn't go too hard, did i? you're mine," he would say.
"katsuki?"
"yes, princess?"
"why are you still hard?"
574 notes · View notes
forbidden-sunlight · 5 months
Text
yandere!carcel escalante with ines!reader scenario
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Warning: OOC, obsessive behavior, implied violence, language, mention of death, possible spoilers for latest chapters on the manhwa.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, hope you have all been well! I'd like to thank @ceeesxy-blog for providing honest feedback on the earlier drafts on this story!
For those who are wondering, I am still revising/editing the other headcanons I had written for Carcel Escalante. When they are ready, they will be posted.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into world of romance and second chances. Or maybe four :)
The Spirit was glaring heatedly at your back again. She seemed to be doing that a lot more lately than critiquing your posture or whispering the names of the nobility in your ear to make sure you did not mispronounce it when they approached you at teeth-grinding social functions. It made you wonder what you did to upset her for the nth time behind the polite smile you gave to the blonde-haired child sitting across from you. 
For the record, it had not been your intention to possess the body of Ines Valeztena de Perez  in the first place. You simply woke up and found her soul occupying the same space. Two souls in one meatsack, to put it so crudely; impossible in theory, yet here is the miracle. Note the sarcasm. 
Where this is her fourth reincarnation, it was your first, and you had retained the knowledge of this reality where it was the backdrop of a novel based on her life. The title? The Broken Ring, This Marriage Will Fail Anyway. Not only did include the details of her life in this timeline, but also her marriages to both the future Emperor and the painter Emiliano. One was a nightmare where she took her own life, and the second was to get away from her responsibilities and be happy for once. Her brother killed Emiliano and the child she had with him, dragging her back to the duchy she had tried to escape from. 
In this life, she has already secured an engagement with Carcel Escalante on the basis that he is the best-looking young man. Her father approved because he loved his only daughter. That worked in her favor because she did not want to get involved with the imperial family again, and already had a plan in the works. This plan involved treating Carcel coldly for seventeen years and he would have numerous affairs, before and after their marriage. Once she gives birth to a child, she will divorce him and attain true freedom. But now, Ines has become a lingering Spirit which only you could see. You are occupying the Body. You are the main driver behind it. And by God, her plan is utter bullshit. 
Make a child who has yet to understand communication and very much innocent in the way of how an adult’s mind works hate you by being a cold-hearted bitch? Absolutely not! That is not how you treat someone, even if you do remember that Carcel Escalante was a playboy in a previous lifetime. This is the present, do not put so much emphasis on the past. 
You have told the Spirit many times when the room was empty and you were visiting her in your mindscape; the backdrop of a library and seated in a plush chair with a table that held two steaming cups of coffee that you couldn’t taste. You did not know if she or you had created it, but this was where she had closed herself off most of the time and where you would see her as soon as you drifted off to sleep. Whether she actually listened to you during these therapy sessions or just put up with your company because you were in her body is another question entirely. 
“Ines?”
Jolting slightly, you looked up from the rim of  your teacup and nodded at the flustered Carcel Escalante. “Yes?” Cerulean orbs twinkled beneath the chandelier’s light as he stared at you, cradling his own cup and looking…frustrated? You furrowed your brow in concern, carefully placing it back down on the saucer that sat on the table. “Is everything all right, Carcel?”
“Why?” He answered your question with a question. You played along, asking him what he meant. 
“Do you really want to marry me because of my good looks?”
Oh, dear. Suppose this was a conversation bond to be brought up. You thought warily. Not even a minute has passed and already you could feel the Spirit’s menacing glare directed at the back of your head. Ines, for God’s sake, trust me. Let me handle this. You hissed in your mind. 
“You cannot ruin this chance.”
Ines, I am fully aware that this is crucial to your plan, thank you. Your very piss-poor plan, I might add. You promised you would give me one chance to prove there is another way to attain happiness. I will deliver. So let me speak or so help me, I will stuff your consciousness in the back of my brain and lock you in there until the day is over. You threatened. That wasn’t a threat either. It was a promise because you had done it before, unintentionally, when the world was spinning and her nagging was not helping. You couldn’t allow her access to the Body for nearly two days. 
She went silent, and the heat on the back of your head subsided slightly, but you could see her from the corner of your eye. Folding your hands neatly in your lap and straightening the curve of your spine, you spoke to Carcel with your eyes directly locked onto his own. 
“Yes. You are very handsome by the Empire’s standards, Carcel. But that isn’t the only reason.”
“It…isn’t?”
“Correct.”
“Then, why?”
“To avoid being married into the imperial family. Your cousin, the crown prince, Oscar is…a twit. Emotionally immature, rude, I could go on. You recall how he arrived at my home without any notice nor any requests to visit, and I told him that I did not like him, yes? You were there, dragged by him because he can do that.” 
Carcel’s face paled. “You could get punished for speaking like that about him. He is the future of our Empire.”
“And what a bleak future that will be.” You sniffed. 
“Ines!”
“The Empress wouldn’t risk angering one of the founding families of this country. Without our support, they would not be standing where they are right now, the pinnacle of high society and power, so I am not afraid to criticize how her son has no regard for the consequences of his actions because he believes his status gives him an excuse to do anything he wants to do.” You squeezed your hands together. “I also believe you are much more agreeable and level-headed than him. Your good looks are a bonus…but I would like to get to know you more. Your likes, your dislikes, anything, really, that you are comfortable with sharing. Believe it or not, Carcel Escalante, I do want us to get along. Not just for appearance's sake.”
You watched his eyes widen in disbelief, his face pinken with embarrassment before he stuttered. “R-Really?”
“Yes.”
“A-And you won’t…be mean? Or ignore me?”
You shook your head. “I will not.” You said. “If I am cruel in your eyes, I would rather you say it to my face then keep silent. I will not understand how you feel if you do not say anything. Though…if the imperial family is watching us, I might have to act out of character. Not just to protect myself and my family from their interference, but yours. Do you understand?”
“I-I suppose.” Carcel swallowed. “But…will you inform me…if you have to act like that?”
“I shall.” 
You answered Carcel’s questions as honestly as you could to a six-year-old child, even when you were roughly the same age as him. He seemed to believe you, as his stiffened posture loosened, and his smile was a little less forced. Eventually it was time for him to leave the estate and return to the Escalante duchy. You walked him to the door alongside the servants, and bade him farewell. When his carriage faded in the distance, growing smaller and smaller, the Spirit wasted no time in materializing, scolding you for making such promises right until it was time for bed. 
But this was a positive change, you emphasized, not a negative one. Would she rather hate the two of you for saying that you liked him and then say you don’t care if he has an affair because your feelings change? That made absolutely no sense. Yes, feelings change with time, this is true, but it is still cruel in your perspective and you will not subject Carcel to such treatment. 
When you received an invitation to attend the Empress’ annual tea party, a letter from the Escalante duchy was delivered to your desk the very next day. Carcel asked if he would have the honor to be your escort. You replied that you would be delighted; you were looking forward to seeing him there, and do not mind if you were acting coldly towards him if the Empress or the crowned prince were within feet of either of you. 
You kept your word to him. Now, and for the following seventeen years. 
If neither of your schedules were not booked with various lessons and social functions, Carcel would make an effort to visit you or invite you to spend an afternoon doing something together. He would offer flowers, and you thanked him. You idly chatted over lunch at a cafe after a shopping trip, all expenses paid by Carcel at his insistence, even when your monthly allowance was more than enough to purchase jewelry, dresses, or anything that piqued your interest during the outing. 
When he was invited to a friendly hunting trip at the Valeztena estate, Carcel had been stunned into silence as you handled the recoil of the hunting rifle in your hands without so much as a sound. 
The Spirit had drilled the basics of gun safety and aiming into your brain until she was confident that no one would think the wiser in the unlikely event that the two of you had to exchange control over the Body. Moreover, it put her at ease knowing she could protect herself from the crown prince. She will not allow Oscar to get the upper hand in this lifetime. Never again. 
You agreed wholeheartedly with her reasoning. Now if she actually lifted some damned weights between target practice and sipping tea with her peers, that would be great. You did not want the time and effort you have put into toning your arms from swinging a practice sword in the knight’s training arena to go to waste. 
Securing a competent tutor who would willingly teach a woman the fundamentals of swordsmanship, even if it’s a fucking rapier and not a broadsword like you initially wanted to learn how to use, had been difficult. If the Spirit was going to use a weapon to protect herself, then so are you. 
End of discussion. 
Carcel eventually became of age and was forced to enlist in the naval academy as his forefathers had done. It was the first step towards becoming the duke of the Escalante estate. Although you were a little sad to see him go, you promised to write him letters. If you were allowed to visit him at the base or a port that wasn’t too far from the Empire’s shores, you swore that you would try, weather permitting of course. 
However…if you or the Spirit had known the weight of these promises…would you have known just how madly in love Carcel Escalante de Esposa was with you? Would he? 
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Carcel hated his time at the naval academy. As invigorating and stressful it was to learn everything about a ship’s vessel to the areas where the enemies of the Empire have attacked in recent years and even swordsmanship or rifle training, there were days when he wanted to throw everything away and just run off from Meldoza. 
Never looking back,  becoming a free man who could do as he pleased without the obligations. 
The soldiers in his fleet understood his frustration and have offered more than once to take him to the ports and have a bit of fun with some lovely ladies, on their tap. Yet for all his ranting and grumbling, it took a single letter from his dear Ines to keep the young duke grounded. 
She informed him of the events occurring in the Empire’s polite society, highlighting gossip and any exploits pertaining to his cousin, aggravated that she still cannot swing her sword at the right angle just yet even after her tutor went over the lesson several times, amongst other topics of discussion including what she has been doing since he’s been at sea. She reminded him to stay strong, keep his wits sharp, and never forget that she is here, waiting for him to return. Before he ventured out to sea for his duties, he would always keep a letter folded against his breast pocket. A reminder of why he is here. 
Contrary to the rumors circulating around him, he did not elect to remain in the military for an additional five years because he was avoiding getting married at the tender age of eighteen. He wanted to prove to his future father-in-law that he is worthy to be the husband of his only daughter. 
Just because he may be lacking in some areas, that does not mean he should be switched out for someone higher up or of equal ranking in the hierarchy. Or with a gentleman whom Duke Valeztena would much prefer to have as a son-in-law than him. That will never happen so long as he, Carcel Escalante de Esposa, lives. 
He is a man who will get jealous if anyone would dare to approach his future wife with the intention of bedding her once he, her husband, had gotten tired of her. An absolutely foolish notion, because Carcel will remain faithful to Ines. 
It would take a lot of self-control to not gut those fools right on the spot, because Ines would hate getting blood on the floor. Furthermore, he would never have a mistress before or after he exchanged his vows. Women might line up outside his door because adultery is encouraged in the Ortega Empire. Flowers and love letters might decorate every square inch of his office. Temptation will lurk around every corner, and he will burn them in his fireplace. The ladies? Well, he’d tell them to politely sod off and never darken his doorstep again. 
If there were gifts from Ines, however, he would keep him. 
Ines is his sun. The light of his life. No one else would even compare to the woman who is waiting for him to return from these treacherous waters. Until it was his time to leave this world, he would show Ines just how much he loved her. He would buy her anything she wanted, make her life as comfortable as possible even if she told him a thousand times that she does not need anything. 
Just never leave his side. Never fall in love with another man who wasn’t him, because he cannot conceive a universe without you. 
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694 notes · View notes
i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
Note
hi i love your work a lot i've been reading it a lot during this difficult blood moon time. i have a request if you don't mind tackling it!! this is gonna be very specific, but yandere! stalker x reader, BUT the yandere is not stalking reader -- the yandere is stalking a popular girl the reader knows in passing, and reader figures "well, i could use some extra cash", so reader approaches stalker and offers to sell phone numbers of popular girl, hangs out with stalker, and unintentionally ends up becoming the new target of stalker. surprised pikachu face on reader's end that her plan has backfired. bonus points if popular girl that same morning is like "i think stalker guy has finally stopped following me" before the reveal. thank you for reading :)
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Based on your post, Imma assume she/her pronouns for our darling (you know what, I relate, gimme the money lmaoooo)
(Reader) slammed her hand down onto the cafe's table, startling the nervous looking man hiding behind his long, shaggy hair. He had been so focused on staring at Jenny (❤️), the angel of campus, and his unrequited love (of three months). Axle fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor as he scurried to hide it in his lap.
"Um.. hi?" His exhausted eyes darted around the coffee shop, too nervous to look directly at the woman standing above him. "May I help you?"
"So you're Jenny's stalker." (Reader) smiled coyly, pulling a chair closer towards Axle so she could sit uncomfortably close to him.
His pasty skin flushed deep maroon, sweating under the harsh accusation . "No, you're wrong, I-I'm not-"
The poor hooded man was cut off by (Reader) grabbing his camera, too horrified by the situation to make a scene in the packed area. (Reader) flipped through the pictures, her smile fading as her eyebrows knit into a disappointed scowl.
"Damn, these pictures... suuuuck."
Axle was shocked, not expecting that response. "What?" His face went slack like a fish, unable to compute the young woman's critique.
"They're all... blurry. And, off center? Out of focus..." She handed back his camera, now with a look of mild pity. "Dude.."
With shaky hands, Axle yanked the camera back, not knowing if he should still be scared that he was caught, or offended.
"When Jenny was talking about how nervous she felt, having a stalker, I thought.. I thought you would be different." (Reader) cupped her chin in her hands, leaning in further, forcing Axle to lean awkwardly to the side, away from the strange woman. She seemed to be debating something, carefully contemplating her next steps. "Are you going to kill her?"
Axle gasped, mortified. "No! No, I would never!" He denied, a little louder than he had meant to. Axle sat stiff, fiddling with his camera. "I just.. really like her." A cute little blush dusted his cheeks, making (Reader) pray she wasn't being a fool.
She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket, and pulled out a picture of Jenny, one not from her social media. Axle grabbed it, admiring how the sunlight looked like a halo illuminating Jenny's hair. "Where did you get this?" Axle asked, full of awe as he stroked the image.
"I took it." (Reader) replied smugly. "Do you want it?"
Axle nodded, unable to pry his eyes away from the image. (Reader) pulled the picture back out of his hands, watching him whimper with a cold, unamused expression on her face.
"Twenty bucks."
"Huh?"
"Twenty bucks, and this is yours." (Reader) sat back in her seat like a mob boss, legs spread wide and head cocked to the side.
Axle yanked his wallet out, and fished out a twenty, absolutely giddy over receiving such a wonderful picture of his beloved.
"Pleasure making business." (Reader) smiled, pleased with how easy it was to trap Axle in her web. "Of course, with how awful you are at stalking, will you be okay with just that little picture?"
The young man froze. Of course, she was right. He was clumsy and skittish, often getting noticed while following Jenny, getting chased by campus police. Even the pictures he took of her were rubbish. "What do you mean?" Axle asked only to be sure he wasn't misunderstanding the situation.
"I'll help you out. I'll continue taking pictures for you, get you private information on Jenny, whatever you want. And you pay me."
He smiled oddly. "Pay? What you're doing is a crime, and you're fine with that?"
(Reader) grinned back childishly. "As long as you pay me."
Despite how uncomfortable Axle was with the strange young woman who hadn't even introduced herself, he couldn't pass up this opportunity.
~ 1 week later ~
Axle waited behind a dumpster, not quite sure how X had gotten his phone number. He still hadn't learned the mystery woman's name, only that she was eccentric, and possibly watched too many crime thrillers. (Reader) had told him to call her X, thinking it best that he didn't know her true identity.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when (Reader) popped up behind him. "You got the cash?" Axle squeaked, grabbing his heart.
"You scared me!" Axle stuttered out, looking better than he had the first time they met. His hair was no longer greasy, and the bags under his eyes had lightened up.
'Looks like he's had more time to take care of himself, now that I'm doing the dirty work for him.' (Reader) thought, staring daggers at Axle. He became flustered under her gaze, shifting anxiously.
"What are you looking at?"
"Just wondering why you're stalking Jenny in the first place." Axle pouted, thinking that maybe this was just a set up to bully him. "You're actually pretty handsome when you've showered."
"Huh?"
"Like, conventionally speaking, by societal standards, you are attractive. Maybe stop slouching and find a better jacket? But yeah, pretty sure if you took care of yourself and just approached Jenny like a normal human being she would have liked you."
His ears became warm at (Reader's) words, trying not to smile at the image of Jenny calling him handsome.
"But, better for me that you're a weirdo." (Reader) smiled playfully, holding out a manila envelope full of pictures she had printed out. "Money!" She said it like a question, empty hand opened expectantly.
Axle grumbled, plopping a wad of cash into her hand as he grabbed the envelope, heart palpitating as he saw more exquisite pictures of Jenny. Each one was amazing, with a sense of professionalism in their quality.
"These are incredible."
"Yeah, yeah. She's, like, super hot, I know." (Reader) absentmindedly responded while counting her earnings.
"I meant the pictures, dick."
(Reader) then did something unexpectedly, she stopped counting, and it looked like a little blush bloomed ever so faintly, genuinely surprised by the compliment. "Oh. Uh, thanks."
Axle noticed the way her back went rigid and the way she averted her eyes. It was.. kinda cute. His brain short circuited. Did I just think she's cute?
~ 2 weeks later ~
Axle's door knocked insistently, rousing him from his slumber. No one ever visited his apartment, not even his parents, so Axle was suspicious of who it could be. "I'm coming!"
He unlocked the door to find X, standing their with a shit eating grin on her face. "I never want to hear you say that again."
(Reader) brushed past the blushing mess, barging into his dark and creepy apartment. "How - why - how??" Axle was almost on the verge of tears, zipping around his apartment faster than the Flash to try and clean up, scooping up arms full of dirty underpants and pizza boxes, and just throwing them into a closet.
"Because I'm actually good at my job, that's how." She smiled triumphantly, flopping onto his bed while taking off her bag. "You know, it was really easy making friends with Jenny. She's so sweet.. it makes me feel a little guilty." (Reader) faked a sniffle, pretending to be torn up. "Maybe we should end this.."
"What? No!" Axle panicked, immediately regretting acting like a fool, as "X" removed her hands from her face, revealing dry eyes and a sarcastic smirk.
"Maybe I'll stay.. if you give me a raise."
Axle looked shocked, like he had actually believed (Reader). It was cute. "Fine.. whatever." He groaned, still standing with his arms cross.
"Aren't you going to sit down? I've got some things to show ya." (Reader) patted the bed.
"No!" Axle replied way too quickly, embarrassed about sitting with a girl in his bed. "I mean.. I'm fine standing." He rubbed his neck, avoiding eye contact as usual.
"You know, I know I'm not Jenny levels of hot, but it hurts that you never even look at me." (Reader) deadpanned, pulling out a pad of paper from her backpack, along with another envelope of pictures. "In this little notebook I have Jenny's phone number, her mom's phone number, her dad's phone number, I have her dorm address, I have her family's home address, I have the contact info for her past three exes, and I also wrote down some stuff I learned from talking to her, like the kind of guy she likes, her favorite food, her allergies, a bunch of stuff."
Axle was shocked, and kind of startled, by how thorough (Reader) was. He enjoyed following Jenny between classes, making sure she got where she needed to go, and yeah he liked climbing up the side of the dormitory to try and watch her sleeping, but this was beyond anything he ever could have hoped for.
"Wow. Maybe you do deserve that raise." He opened the envelope, ignoring (Reader) as she bragged about how she got all that information, overwhelmed yet again by (Reader's) photography skills. "Have you ever thought about becoming a photographer?"
(Reader) paused her rambling, nervously shifting her gaze away. Axle was beginning to suspect that she didn't receive compliments all that often, which was a shame, because she certainly was talented. Axle felt his heart thump heavily again.
"I, uh, never thought about it.." (Reader) lied. "Why, you think I should?"
Why did she look so cute right now, nervously asking a creep who was paying her to stalk someone if he approved of her talents?
As he was about to answer, he found a selfie of Jenny and (Reader) together. "What's this?"
"Oh, sorry that wasn't supposed to be in there. Jenny saw my camera and asked if we could take a pic together." (Reader) made a move to grab it, but Axle held it up out of her reach. Strangely, he realized that he had never seen the two side by side, and for some reason in the picture of the two of them together Ms. X was way cuter.
"I'll keep this one too."
"Huh? Why?"
"I like it."
~ 1 month later ~
Axle stared into the bright blue light of his laptop, looking at (Reader's) face. It was difficult to find her, as she didn't have much of a social media presence, and Axle didn't know her name, but he finally found her. He kept telling himself that he was just curious in what kind of lunatic agreed to work as a professional stalker, and why the hell was she so good at it? But as he lost track of time staring at the terrible family photos her mother posted online, he started to question why he never seemed to notice her before.
It felt even worse, since she noticed him.
The pictures she took were all neatly packed in a drawer except for the selfie she took with Jenny. Axle kept arguing with himself, insisting that that was simply the best picture of Jenny by far. But he knew deep down it wasn't the truth.
He had started to lose sleep again, trying to dig up information on his partner on crime. Partners in crime. Axle smacked himself in the head, pulling his hoodie down over his mop of hair. Unfortunately, he was a college student, and had classes to attend.
Out in the corridor, he heard the most wonderful sound in the world. (Reader's) maniacal laughter. Even when out with normal people, (Reader) didn't mask who she was. She was walking with a group of popular students, all cracking up over something one of them had said, and Axle was jealous.
(Reader) looked so natural with that crowd, hanging out like she wasn't a loser like him, glowing so brightly that Axle didn't see Jenny right away. He knew (Reader) said that she had "infiltrated their ranks" in order to learn more about Jenny for him, but it was still incredible to see. Axle wondered if he would look just as natural by their side, after all, (Reader) had said that Axle was "handsome". He suddenly became self conscious, regretting not showering before he left his apartment. When was the last time he washed this coat? Why hadn't he bought a new one when (Reader) suggested it?
It was almost like he had to remind himself to look at Jenny. She didn't look as angelic as he remembered.
~ 2 months later ~
"What made you like Jenny?" (Reader) asked, scrolling on her phone while lounging on Axle's bed. Axle was watching (Reader) while pretending to look at the pictures she had taken. She was so exposed, lying there as though this was just a friend's place, not a man's bed. Axle tried not to feel excitement seeing (Reader) so comfortable in his presence.
"I'm, um, not sure." And that was the truth. Why did he like Jenny? The way she smiled? Was it simply how beautiful she was?
The more he grew to know (Reader) as a person, the more beautiful he found her to be. Jenny paled in comparison to (Reader).
It was too embarrassing to tell (Reader) the truth, that the woman he loved so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her 24/7, now simply didn't interest him. Not like (Reader) did. If I take a picture of her, would she hate me?
"You should take more selfies." Axle stated, out of the blue.
"Why?" (Reader) snorted.
"Because you're pretty.." He blushed softly, smiling at the picture of (Reader) he kept on his desk.
~ 4 months later ~
(Reader) smiled wide eyed, almost unable to contain her surprise. "What?"
"Yeah, he's just, disappeared." Jenny took a sip from her coffee, confused but not complaining. "I haven't noticed that creepy fuck following me around, like, at all lately."
Many thoughts passed through (Reader's) mind like rapid fire. Was everything okay with Axle? Did he lose interest in his beloved? And if he did, was she no longer going to get paid?!
(Reader) ran to Axle's apartment as soon as the coast was clear. Partially worried for his well being, mostly worried for her pay check.
She didn't bother knocking, instead throwing open the door like she owned the place. Axle stood in the middle of his room, confused, and pink in the face. He had a fresh hair cut, showing off his dark eyes, and he had a new outfit on, one that fit him better than his oversized stained hoodie. "(Reader)? What are you doing here?"
"I was just-" she stuttered, blushing violently. He was incredibly attractive, towering over her now that he was standing with better posture. "Wait, how did you know my name?!"
An ominous feeling crept over her, as she thought about how many times she laid in his bed, not knowing that he was falling out of love with his target. He smiled sweetly at (Reader), behind him was a new camera he had bought for her, as a gift. Axle had meant to propose a new deal with (Reader), requesting pictures of her instead, but she had caught him dressing up in the clothes he bought to impress her. He pulled her into his room.
(Reader) only noticed the pictures of her scattered across the floor as Axle locked the door.
828 notes · View notes
eskir · 3 months
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dusk - sunday x gn!reader
warnings - nsfw, smut, dubcon, and slight yandere?
word count - 864
a/n | i have no clue what i'm doing with this tbh and i apologize if there are any mistakes. this is probably one of my first writing bits for him and my grammar is off, i will admit. was also unsure of whether to keep it in third person or second so i just choose the latter. no explicit details and the first paragraph was just me trying to get into the mood of writing. thanks for reading if you do! oh, also took some inspo from sleepingelvhen's and mimisplayground's posts. i am also so embarrassed by what i wrote at 11pm so take this fever dream.
He smiles down upon you, playing the role of an angel as he extends a hand, a helping hand, as if he had nothing to do with your current situation. As if he didn’t orchestrate it so that you would gratefully take his hand, run into his arms and cling onto him as if he was the only safe thing in your world. And Sunday relished feeling like he was the only thing that mattered. Even more, he loved controlling and twisting events and words so successfully to fulfill his own desires. Sunday loved that you never found out, and he would do anything to keep it that way.
He loved it when you were under him, panting with your face painted a deep shade of red. He enjoyed looking over you, touching you in places that he knew would elicit little sounds. Dragging his finger down your spine slowly, watching your back arch and not caring if you begged for him to hurry. ‘you want me to go faster? you’ll have to earn it,’ he’d whisper in your ears, his voice soft and a smile adorning his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.
He's ruthless, bringing you to the edge, watching you writhe underneath him with a coy smile. Sunday doesn’t do anything except continue, wearing you out. If small tears form, he'll wipe them away and coo at you in a sickly sweet way as he continues. He draws out begs and whines, almost pushing you over the edge until he stops suddenly, a pleasant smile on his face as if he had no clue what he just did. 
He'd make you beg even more, persuading, almost forcing, promises out of you. Making you swear that you'd never interact with those individuals again or that you'd stay by his side forever, whichever suited his mood. And if Sunday wasn’t in the mood to draw out promises? He'd tease you instead, maybe bringing out some toys with the promise of continuing if, and only if, you put it on. So you let him tie you up, placing a gag over your mouth and a blindfold over your eyes. Blind to both what's happening and the manipulation occurring.
And he wouldn’t stop once, he’d do it multiple times over the course of hours. Enjoying the way that you broke down, nearly begging for his touch. He'd find small things to critique you over, like the way that you talked to that one person for just a little bit too long, or the smile you flashed to the person that was obviously flirting with you. Sunday paints those events as things requiring punishment, and what better punishment than delay? After all, you wouldn’t ever want to experience what other punishment he has to offer, no?
The only thing stopping him from continuing this cycle is the exhaustion that he can see building up. Be that the way that your eyes start to close or the subtle shift in your tone, he notices it all. So finally he brings pushes you over the edge.
And at the end of it all, he’s barely tired. You can feel the way that your legs will barely function the next day, a numb jelly like feeling spreading throughout your body. But he doesn't, only watching and finding a certain amount of joy, knowing that you'll have to rely on him the next day. But it’s still nighttime, so he caresses your flushed face, tracing your cheekbones and jawline ever so softly. He takes note of the way your eyes close from exhaustion, wiping away sweat and drawing circles on your skin idly.
He doesn’t often take you this far, but today he didn’t feel like using honeyed words to keep you near. Instead, he now brushes his fingers over your body, a grin forming as you flinch and ultimately move into his touch. Sunday knows that you enjoyed his touches, no matter how little or tiring, still seeming to crave his love. So he uses it against you, under whatever righteous guise he chooses.
But as long as you remain devoted to him, like a worshipper to a god, he will stay patient, follow your whims, and be a 'good' person. As long as you were devoted, he would persuade you in the gentlest way, through soft touches and sweet words. Never mind his demeanor toward others.
So he picks up your tired body, pressing kisses to your forehead as he draws a bath. Letting you rest in warm water, he massages your head, soap bubbles forming. He scrubs your body, maybe a few teasing touches, but nothing more. Sunday understands that you're tired. 
After the bath, he bundles you up in blankets, preparing to clean himself as well. He does it quickly, not wanting to miss out a single moment with you. When he comes back, if you're still awake, he'll cuddle with you, kissing you more. If you try to kiss him back, he'll smile, shaking his head as he motions for you to go to sleep. So eventually you do, warm and comfortable, knowing that the next day will be decided based off of Sunday’s whims.
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rose-lunaire · 3 months
Text
music box | hannibal with a musician!S/O
dedicated to all the beautiful artistic souls reading this, i hope you like it!
pairing: hannibal x gn!reader
warnings: yandere behaviour, unspecified age gap, my lack of knowledge of musical terms
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you met in the backstage of your first recital
hannibal was mesmerised by your craft, such mature and fresh interpretation of his favourite piece
“that was an excellent performance you gave us”
you nearly dropped your music sheets from shock
“o, oh, thank you so much, sir. to be honest, i was worried the nerves came through too much and ruined it…”
“i assure you, the concerto was flawless. mahler requires this uncertainty and you portrayed that beautifully.”
the way he said it seemed to lift all the weight from your shoulder; there was no room for question in his voice, just pure respect
“pardon me, where are my manners. my name is hannibal lecter and i would like to become your patron”
and that’s how it started: your relationship emerged from this contract and eventually evolved into friendship
in the end blossoming into something more
you always appreciate his remarks while practicing until late at night
he’s your biggest supporter!
always carrying your stuff from practice, saying he can’t allow you hurting yourself
he would massage your hands after long practices, kissing the tips of your fingers like the most delicate of flowers
don’t be shy about your callouses, hannibal sees them as a token of your hard work and dedication
they’re beautiful, just like your mind and heart
he would do anything to protect you from critique
once upon a time someone dared write an unpleasant review of your performance and it was the end of their career
their body was found in the trash behind the opera house the next day and on their blog posted an apology to you, saying they were paid and coerced to say those abhorrent things to you
you never found out about this case, hannibal took you on a retreat to a national park, free of any distractions to “gain inspiration”
he admires you as a connoisseur but also as an artist
he was a bit shy to showcase his work for the first time
but then he fell for you all over again when he heard you playing his pieces
they sound so different yet so familiar, he can’t focus on the notes and instead stares at your hands, mesmerised
you’re his porcelain doll, the most precious treasure he will cherish until the end of his days
displayed only for his deserving eyes, inside a beautiful box, dancing to his tune, twirling around laughing, his applause is the only thing you can hear
too beautiful for others to truly appreciate, you’re hidden away in his study
bound to be perfect
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Note
Oi Could Do The Yandere Hashiras Reaction To Their Male S/O Be A Baker Who Makes Delicious Food And Always Gives Them A Piece.
Could You Do Their Reaction When Your S/O Comes In Crying Because Someone Rejected Their Food Saying It Was Disgusting
I'll do one 🖤🖤🖤
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Baker Reader | Yandere Demonslayer
Sweets and pastries are yours to make and for them to eat all while imagining you did this just for them. Alas it is not and surely they’ll have to decide what to do to your every critique and enthusiast as time goes on. Best hope they keep their activities well and out of your kitchen:
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Iguro Obanai 
“I promise I washed all the blood off of me before coming here.”
“That includes your clothes too!”
“Fine.”
Treats coming customers pretty cruelly until you scold him
He prefers you not get any customers if it means you’ll only feed him
But give him some cake and a kiss and he can be swayed
Otherwise he will glare at customers endlessly 
Or passive aggressively ‘spill’ what has to be gasoline on them
Weird
Now those bold enough to insult you to your face or otherwise
Is more than likely already a cold case or tragically dead by odd circumstances
Obanai’s determined to protect you but he doesn’t mind that you’re happy too
Otherwise he would have executed the entire town of customers 
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cu7ie · 11 months
Text
𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝. | kaveh, al haitham
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˚✦ ៸៸ ₊˚ cw: HARD NON-CON. fear, manhandling. no penetrative sex. oral (pussy-licking). hybrid!kaveh and al haitham. my first time writing for GI. yandere themes. trusting reader. reader has a vagina. reader is referred to as an 'it' (by Al Haitham) and 'they' (Kaveh). forgive me for ooc-ness. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
˚✦ ៸៸ ₊˚ an: @187-mg i told you about this and i was just like fuck it let me uhhh write it first! listen at first this was a fun horny moment then i got too analytical i need critique 💀 i kinda love it though
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You happen upon these wolves, who don't seem interested in you at first pass. You're just a passerby looking to spend time with your grandma, a little ways off in the woods, nothing terribly interesting to the likes of them,
but then they start trailing slowly behind
asking more questions (Kaveh), demanding answers (Al Haitham).
They are talking among themselves in whispers you can t discern, too busy making sure the soup inside your basket doesn't spill and that mud doesn't clump up on your nice shoes !
It's getting dark quicker than you thought it would though. 
And you don't think you're anywhere near your grandmother's house (Kaveh, so gracious to offer help with directions) and when you think to call their names, you turn around and
You see the moonlight reflected in their eyes. They look solid. Alhaitham has extended to his full height, and only in the absence of light does it feel ominous. 
Kaveh's warm smile has faded away in the dark, but you can see the glint of Al Haitham's fangs and -
What's going on? The wind howls faintly and you clam up all the sudden, sweaty palms clasping tightly on your wicker basket as your boot squishes in mud.
"Ah… Well, thank- uh- thank you sirs. I think I can find my own way… now." And you immediately dart off into the woods. Your basket clinks a little noisily, and you're already impossible to miss because whatever's in there smells so good.
Not as good as you though, Al Haitham is sure to point out to Kaveh, so maybe that's why when you dart off, Al Haitham is already at your heels.
Kaveh was trying to tell him to be patient. Humans are afraid of things like thunder, sudden snapping twigs, so he can just imagine your reaction to hulking behemoths such as them, able to break you with the flick of a wrist-
"But that's what we're going to do. Break them. So I don't see why we should pretend we won't." Kaveh's ears flattened against his head and he didn't speak on it further, watching Alhaitham size you up in anticipation of your escape
and when you do, Alhaitham's just a blur on the edge of Kaveh's vision.
Kaveh is quicker to follow. You're yelling out his name in desperate fear, and he catches the tail end of Alhaitham flipping your skirt up and clawing your panties off, grazing your flesh and getting taken over by your delicious terror. The tip of his claw etches a reminder into your thigh, tears dripping down the side of your face.
Your basket is tossed on its side, contents carelessly spilled along the forest floor.
Your struggle renews somewhat as Kaveh comes close enough for you to see - he's behind Al haitham’s mass so for a second you don't - and you cry out for help again.
Kaveh has his own qualms about this - you're terrified and he's tired of feeling like a monster - but Al haitham operating on animal impulse makes him feel a distinct shame as well as a trickle of jealousy
Kaveh was willing to wait. He's known of you for longer, made it a habit to see you around the woods, tending to your garden, humming along with songbirds, your bubble of reality utterly endearing. He mentioned it once. Let it slip to Al Haitham. Telling him was a distinct inevitability. Also the biggest mistake of his life.
And he couldn’t have expected Al Haitham to take to you at all - what with his inclination to contentedness, Kaveh imagined you’d be a blip on his radar.
But he ends up just as taken by you. He starts asking for what Kaveh knows; and when that well of information goes dry, he makes plans to go straight to its source.
Not to say Kaveh didn't intend to - but there's the way humans do things and the way they do things. A right and wrong. Mating rituals dictate that upon breeding, a bond has been made. Bonds further strengthened by a mark.
Humans court, and give gifts, and have long talks, spend time together ...
Kaveh was willing to try. Al Haitham is too stubborn.
Al Haitham doesn’t understand pretending to be something he is not. Human tradition is just meandering fluff.
He'll breed you so good you'll never think about anything else. If Kaveh wants out, so be it.
But he can't leave you there, begging and pleading and crying for him as the head of Al Haitham’s cock prods at your folds. You're so small. Al Haitham might kill you if he's not careful - and then what? Kaveh steps forward again,
"Al Haitham. Don't be so rough, you're scaring them." Hunched over you like a vulture over carrion, Al Haitham eyes Kaveh, furiously ablaze and downright feral. "Don't tell me what to do. You’re anxious to act, and stall when opportunity reveals itself.
“If you don’t want any-” “No!”
Kaveh’s snarl doesn’t intimidate Al Haitham, but maybe the fangs poised at his neck make him hesitate. The gap between them is closed in but a moment, and Al Haitham jerks his head upwards to dislodge his friend’s grip in one firm shake. He is unsuccessful.
Kaveh’s intervention only seemed to exacerbate Al Haitham’s irritation, before his expression wanes into something more reasonable. Less blood lusty and more level headed, eyes darting off to something more pressing.
"Kaveh." Al Haitham huffs, relatively calmer as Kaveh withdraws from his neck. 
"It’s getting away."
You might have twisted your ankle when Al Haitham tackled you to the floor but you're able to make some distance when they squabble, desperately clawing bald patches of grass and getting dirt under your nails.
they are much faster, and they can make up proper after they figure out what to do with you.
"They're so small..." Kaveh chimes, his pupils dilated as his expression seems to glow.
They talk about you as if you're not right in front of them, trembling and terrified.
"Is that a problem? I thought you liked it tight."
Kaveh shoots him an irritated glare. "Al Haitham. Please." You're crying again.
"You have a nice mouth." When he's not being utterly insufferable. "Maybe show them what that's like?"
Al Haitham snorts like Kaveh’s said something funny. "I'm serious! Let's just do it right this time, okay?"
He blinks once at Kaveh, looking down at where he has your legs spread, moves his clawed hands slowly. Al Haitham huffs harshly, looking down at you with those predator eyes, like you offended his senses.
"Ass up, pup." His tail thumps against the floor, betraying the anger writ over his face. "P-please no! I -"
Whenever you don't move as fast as he wants you to, Al Haitham moves for you. You learn that quick as he flips you over, your tear streaked face now looking at the other, 'kinder' wolf. Kaveh is the worst.
He's trying to make it easier for you, yes. He cradles your face in his clawed hands and coos at you about how beautiful he thinks you are, and how Al Haitham’s not that bad once you get to meet him,
he's paying careful attention to every dip and divot, the taste of your cunt and clit, slow sensuality degrading into frantic wet slurping.
Then he stops suddenly. You feel pin-pricks dig into the flesh of your ass as he spreads it with his thumbs, your dripping cunt throbbing in anticipation, your heart pounding out of your chest.
Kaveh rolls your soft face in his hands, can feel your skin burn hot with every moan or whine Al Haitham urges out of you. You seem embarrassed. He finds human shame so .. intriguing. He licks some of the tears off your cheek. 
He mulls you over, the salt seeming sweet on his tongue.
"I think..." He makes a noise of surprise as you grab at his wrists tighter, pleading with your eyes for them to let you go. 
"I think they're ready."
479 notes · View notes
mgc02 · 2 months
Note
Yandere Valentino X Model Genderfuild Reader who can shape shift
Sorry this took a while, I hope you like it
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Yandere Valentino X GenderFluid Shape Shifter Reader
Tw: Toxic Relationships, possessiveness, controlling behavior, transphobia, jealousy
He probably makes you take different forms depending on the environment and his mood
If you're in public and he's feeling possessive he might make you take a form that is considered less appealing
Sort of like controlling what you wear
He doesn't want anyone to try and take what's his and if you are looking attractive on purpose then it is your fault in his eyes
The fact that you identify as genderfluid is not something that he takes too seriously
He claims it doesn't bother him
Boy, girl, anything in between he finds them all sexy
However pronouns are not something he cares to take the time to learn and if he's in a bad mood he tends to lash out if you correct him
He calls you nicknames that are normally possessive
Like his toy, his doll, his trophy, etc
If it's just you and him, he chooses a form that suits him in the moment
You may be genderfluid but he gets to choose how you present and what you look like 24/7
Although on good days he'll let you pick your gender just give minor critiques
Bigger breasts, bigger butt, broader shoulders, taller, beard, no beard
However and whoever he seems to desire in the moment
In his eyes you are perfect because you can cater your appearance and everything about yourself to him
Normally anyone who is genderfluid would love being a shape-shifter but it is rarely something you get to use for your own happiness
As a model you can shift to fit into any outfit and to look damn good in anything as well
So Valentino loves to dress you up
And he despite his possessiveness he loves to show you off
Just as a way to show everyone that you are his
But if anyone didn't get the message he would send them a clearer message real quick
Or more likely make an example out of them
You are his and no dares touch his property no matter what you look like
Even if they don't recognize you from yesterday
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amazon160 · 10 months
Text
Spot dabbles because the simps need to be fed:
(art ain’t by me I’m so sorry I couldn’t find the og artist 😭)
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-He is the single most awkward man alive, no doubt. Has no filter. Will compliment or critique you on the spot. Hehe. I just noticed the pun there lol. And if it’s not an annoyed critique, he usually gets all flustered after he realizes what he’s just said.
-Spot is real laid back if not an anxious wreck around you. Clearly a bottom. You’ll get him to be more assertive by telling him that when he does, it’s straight up H O T.
-He seems like a “work now, clean later” kind of guy. I mean, we saw how disorganized his house was. It reminds me of Dipper in this one Gravity Falls episode iykyk 😉. Once he moves in with you, he’ll push himself to pick up after himself more often. Until then, he would much rather come to you than you come to his apartment.
-The man can be a scientific perfectionist, but he does not like to clean :(
-Absolutely loves it when you lay your head on his stomach. He’s a lil chub, so he feels like a pillow :3
-Spot is very self conscious of his body, of course. So he will go ballistic when you caress his square like torso or his spindly limbs, like they’re the most perfect things in the world to you.
-He doesn’t understand how you could love someone like him :’(
-When you trace around his spots or sweet talk him about whatever, he can barely sit still underneath you. Any type of praise will send him through the roof.
-So when you’d say it was hot when Spot was assertive? Every now and then, he’ll take that advice. It’ll be easy to kinda just sneak up on ya from behind with his portals.
-He also likes to give you praise as much as you like to give him it. He knows that the assertion needs to go both ways.
-That’ll be its own blurb with more details for another day.
-But.
-I’ve always had a thing for hypnosis, I love it and I don’t see it used too often. But like, imagine Spot pins you onto the bed or the couch or somewhere comfortable. His portals are keeping your arms out of place and he forces you to look at him the way he makes Miles look to the side in the movie
Erm. 😳
-The spot on his face starts to swirl, or ripple, or whatever motion and you feel all groggy under his gaze, making way for Spot to take advantage of you while you’re under his trance.
AAA--
-I’m not the usual fan of yandere but for a lil wimp like Spot to be acting that way would be HOO--MAMA--especially if this were after his transformation and the end of the movie.
-You wouldn’t stand a chance.
-AND tbh his voice is just so 😩 especially when it’s distorted
-Like is it just me-? Idk.
-He doesn’t like doing the spicy all that much, he’s mostly into the fluff and domestic bits of your relationship. Don’t get me wrong, he appreciates what intimacy he’ll get, but not so much the SPICY stuff y’know
-And this is whether or not you’d say he has his part. For some reason this became a discussion with me and some friends and one of them literally went “maybe it’s in a hole somewhere”. So if that’s where you wanna go, go for it. Heck, I’ve still seen some art of stuff coming out of that face-spot of his. Y’know, the one spot on his head 😋
That’s all the dribbles FOR NOW, but I intend on getting a not spicy but mild blurb of Spot along with that hypnosis concept XD
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ystrike1 · 1 year
Text
You're the Cutest when you're pathetic ~Dru**ed S*x with Co-Dependent Chiaki - By Umekoppe (8.5/10)
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The title says it all. A handsome, codependent yandere barges into our main characters life. He makes it better in every way. He is a devoted and kind boyfriend, who she genuinely loves. Their relationship gradually slides down a slippery slope, towards toxicity and substance abuse. This one is a sad and scary read.
She's the ugly twin.
The fat twin.
The dumb twin.
Aoi stays out of the way. Her sister beat her at everything. She didn’t enjoy her childhood, and now she's a lonely adult. She doesn't get bullied. She gets used and critiqued constantly at work. Her boss does it to push more out of her. She also works for an abusive company in general. She has an office job, but she is severely underpaid. Even more so than her coworkers, because she gets saddled with helping everyone else.
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Chiaki saves her when she's getting harassed on the train. He's been watching her for a while. He sees what she can't see. She's a kind person. She's too kind. He wants her to give that kindness to someone who cares about her, instead of strangers.
Specifically, him.
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Chiaki is a record producer and songwriter. He's the rare kind of artist that makes alot of cash. I like the hint here. Producers are notoriously exploitative. They are literally known worldwide for taking advantage of naive dreams, and discarding artists that are no longer needed. Aoi just thinks he's cool and talented, but nice people don't usually succeed in the music industry.
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He says weird things sometimes, but he is the best boyfriend she has ever had. There's a timeskip. They are a real couple. After two years Chiaki starts to get impatient. He wants Aoi to rely on him more. Aoi is pretty uncomfortable with being spoiled though, even after two years of gentle love.
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Gentle love didn’t work. Aoi still sees herself as an unworthy, lucky person. Chiaki choosing to date her is a miracle in her opinion. She can't see why he was attracted to her kindness. He is naturally colder. Aoi is, despite all of her insecurity, a kind and hardworking person. That's even more admirable than it usually would be in this case, because Aoi isn't popular or successful. She's a kind and caring girlfriend, even though her life is hard.
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Chiaki starts to push. He wants to live together. They're in an apartment now, but he has money. He wants a big house and privacy. He wants Aoi to quit her job and marry him. He is a rich man, and she hates her job anyway.
It's a win for both of them.
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Aoi starts to get conceited. One of her coworkers has been using her as an errand girl. That coworker lost her boyfriend of four years, and she's been bumming around mixer parties looking for a new one. A handsome rich one. A guy like Chiaki. Aoi looks down on her, and she thinks she'll be ok no matter what, because she has a capable man.
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She freaks out. She doesn't like what she sees inside herself. She doesn't want to live off Chiaki's money. She wants to value him as a partner, because he treats her so well. She doesn't want to waste her time being angry at coworkers. She doesn't want to hate her life.
She wants to be good.
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Chiaki has been doing his best to get what he wants. He knows how to put on a show, and he loves Aoi very much. When a cute fangirl starts following him he handles it in seconds. He shows Aoi how capable he is whenever he can. He thought being the perfect boyfriend would be enough.
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....but now Aoi wants space. She wants a career. She doesn't want her only accomplishment to be dating a rich guy. She wants to feel proud of HERSELF. It doesn't matter if Chiaki praises her daily. She needs to love herself too.
He kidnaps her(?). They move into his dream house after he manipulates her. He tells her he's not nice, and he loves her very much. She quits her job, and she becomes a wife that doesn't go out much. Someone who exists to be loved by her husband.
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fungalittleweirdo · 3 months
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Yandere Rise Donatello Designer AU
okay, hear me out.
let me give context for this concept idea first (you could skip the next paragraph if you don't care, i'm just weird, i promise i start discussing the concept right after this next paragraph trust me)
i am a huge fan of this one designer in new york, bella pietro, her work is amazing. i was able to attend her bridal line debut fashion show in person this past sunday and got to speak with her very briefly. she's very lovely, relatable, super down to earth, and humble. she is also one of the influences for my own jewellery line, but this isn't the point i'm making, i'm going insanely off topic. i thought about what it would be like being a clothes designer in nyc.
donatello is the founder and ceo (at least, that's canonically what i'm led to believe) of Genius Built Technologies. it's also canon he designs Genius Built Apparel. i initially had this idea and shared it on discord a while back based around donnie being a member of a discord server with other designers. these designers usually joined said server for creativity, support, sharing each others' work, and giving critiques when wanted.
imagine you, an up-and-coming designer, join this server to gain more reach. while donnie was bored looking at others' designs and critiquing them harshly when asked to, he admired your work and advocated for you so that you could gain more popularity. the two of you accepted each other's friend requests and started talking in dms. he admired your work and thought it was cute how you were slowly rising in the industry, but you needed the right connections to actually get things going. you started getting seamstresses and a manager, but that took your time away from donnie.
donnie might have found out you lived in new york, that was when he suggested a meet-up for a collaboration. he was excited when you said yes, and a GB Apparel x For You line was in the works for when the two of you started discussing potential pieces. your crew got a little upset when you put all your attention on the collaborative project, especially your manager, and they thought it was a bad idea. you thought about listening to them and backing away to work on the collab line in the future. donnie... didn't really like that.
he loved spending time with you, as hard as it was for him to admit it. he adored the way you drew your designs, the face you made when you focused and shrimped over your tablet to get the details just right. he told you to adjust your posture, and you did it with a stretch, you ran your fingers through your hair he so badly wanted to run his fingers through instead. donnie hated the thought of having that taken away from him. once you told him you wanted to file away the collaborative project for another time, he managed to manipulate and gaslight convince you into believing your manager has the wrong idea, because his own brand was well known and high quality.
you hesitantly agreed with him and your crew began getting a distaste for you when you arrived late to meetings, made decisions with poor judgement, and delayed your own projects in favour of working with donatello instead. what you didn't know is that donnie anonymously emailed them all to quit their jobs with you because you were practically not working with them anymore. your crew moved on to work with other local designers. you didn't think much of it, you were aware people in this business would come and go, they would find other people to work for and it's no big deal, because you could sew your designs yourself.
besides, donatello had been a big help, he lent you his sewing machines that literally sewed by themselves. your own fall line had been presented on a runway at a moderately sized venue, a team curated by donatello organised it as if he were your manager. everyone on the server the two of you met on barely showed their support at first, until you got incoming praises and compliments from everyone after donatello's worship of you was sent in the runway channel. you were unaware to the fact that donatello threatened everyone with their careers if they didn't support you.
everyone seemed beginning to dislike you, your fans acknowledged that it didn't seem to be you at fault because your head was still held up high, staying positive and thanking anyone who bothered to take a look at your collection. donatello was working behind the scenes to isolate you as much as possible. he didn't want anyone taking you away from him because you were his precious fashion genius, your ideas complement his. that's why GB Apparel x For You is going to rock the fashion world, he had thought, deep in his delusions of spending more time with you. one look at you and it had his heart beating out of his chest.
your workspace in his apartment was a mess, fabrics everywhere, sketchbooks and a couple tablets (courtesy of Genius Built Technologies) with plenty of space for designs and you sat on the floor with your hair a mess and new glasses (those were courtesy from donatello himself) on your face after staring at the screens for so long. the softshell simply watched you work, enamoured and savouring the way you find his apartment more comfortable to work in because yours is already so cluttered.
donatello was so proud to see the results of your collaboration, he kissed the top of your head and held you close. you've had affectionate friends before, but you had only intimately known donnie for a few months. sure, he was one of the turtles that saved new york years ago, not to mention his brand even climbed up the ranks for a place in paris fashion week alongside balenciaga and valentino... so you knew him... but you didn't ask for this. you used to have more friends, lovely colleagues. whatever happened to that ?
of course, once the collab line debuted in the spring you went back to work, you designed a men's fall line you thought would grab people's attention. it certainly snatched donatello's, when he called you frequently and realised you were parting from him to work on your own, it pissed him off. he wanted to know what you were hiding. you hesitantly let him in on a day when you were being interviewed by april for press, dressed up for photography and not for him. you're only for him, no one should see you except when you're beside him. he lashed out at you in front of april, upset that you weren't telling him your plans since the GB Apparel x For You collaboration, and april took notes of the drama. not for press purposes at all, but to tell his brothers.
you didn't see donatello for a while after that, to which you were glad. you felt a weight finally slipped off your shoulders as you rebuilt your community. people didn't know that donatello was the one at fault for your darkest moments. you rebuilt your community over the course of a year, making new connections and finally making it into new york fashion week all by your own efforts, not by donatello's.
it was when he showed up at your door everything went downhill again. he pushed his way back into your life, asking for a spring GB Apparel x For You line even though he already started on his own designs, incorporating style that you would add due to how well he already knew you. over the year he had been gone, he watched how you grew and connected with other people in the soho fashion scene. the thought made his skin crawl. it irked him to know you were out and about, perhaps having dinner with your new manager, or spending hours at a time with your new seamstresses after you threw out the sewing machines he so lovingly gifted to you.
all he wanted was to share his world with you, have you live in lavish luxury like you deserve. you said no. you already had ideas for your spring line which would be presented in london along with new york, you didn't have time to collaborate with him. donnie threw another tantrum in your apartment, this time feeling a lot more destructive. he threw your decorations everywhere, then held up some of your supplies to set them on fire. it scared you into submission, telling him yes, putting off your own projects to move into his apartment and get to working with him on the next collab line.
things were different this time. donatello was a lot more clingy, literally working alongside you as the two of you designed the thirty-piece collection, he made gentle suggestions and leaned in close, added and subtracted things on what you already drew. the two of you had ordered takeout sometimes and he would be the only one allowed to receive the food. you felt trapped. there was nothing you could do about it, just accept your fate.
you disappeared off the tabloids, no one knew where you went, not even april. donnie kept you away for his eyes only, wrapping his arms around you at every chance he got, nuzzling into your neck from behind as you tried to break through the parental locks donatello placed on your tablets. that won't work, darling, he said, a smirk on his face you could feel against your skin. it made you sick, your stomach churning at the thought that you might stay in your captor's arms forever.
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