ryzer4242

[ryzer4242]

Happy fathers day to your favorite deadbeat dad </3 TW: non con, yandere, non con voyeurism, toji fucks you in front of a window

Toji's the type of dude who will do it anywhere, any place, any time.

He'll bend you over the armchair of the couch as you're walking past, stop you when you're walking up the stairs to push you on your hands and knees. He's had you ass up on the floor, pressed against the wall in the shower, spread eagle on the kitchen counter, gripping the fridge doors for dear life. No warning from him.  o concern for your protests. When toji's in the mood, he fucks you, doesn't matter when or where to him.

That's why, when he tosses you over his shoulder while you're making dinner, you dont bother fighting.

“Toji,” you whimper, glancing back at the stove you left unattended. A rough palm comes up to fondle your ass through your pajama shorts, “Please. The food’s gonna burn and-”

“Dont care.” he says, landing a sharp swat to your ass. “Figure it out later.”

You wince at the sting, fingernails reflexively digging into his back. You can feel the anger starting already. Heat pooling in your chest, crawling up your throat and sitting on the tip of your tongue. You lie limp as he bends you over the back of the couch.

A quiet whine leaves your throat as he instructs you to put your arms up above your head, but you comply, letting him tug off your t-shirt. Your shorts don’t last much longer, pooling at your feet in a discarded heap. Toji’s never been a huge fan of foreplay, not when he’s bulging out of his sweatpants like he is now, at least. He prefers it raw and carnal, pounding you like a dog in rut for the express purpose of getting both of you off, even though you rarely get off willingly. It’s hard not too when rough fingers are working your clit at the same throttling speed he fucks you.

Theres some rustling behind you. A slow trickle of dread creeps down your spine as the bulbous head of his shaft starts running up and down your folds. “M’ leaving tomorrow morning.” he grunts, punctuating the statement by spitting a glob of saliva on your cunt, standing up again to smack his dick against the puffy lips.

You cringe at the wet smacking noises,“‘That so?”

“Got a job offer in Kyoto. Probably gonna be there for a couple weeks at least.” The tip of his dick catches at your entrance and your breath hitches. “Thought I’d give you a going away gift since I know you’ll miss me so much.”

You feel the heat creeping up again. Bubbling like lava, pricking at your eyes and burning in your throat. He knows you won’t miss him. Why would you ever miss someone who breaks into your house whenever he pleases and uses you because he knows there's nothing you can do about it. Who’s murdered the last three men you’ve talked too because he didn’t like how close you were getting and threatened to do the same to your family if you say too much. Toji has made you a prisoner in your own home and rubs it in your face for fun. You want to yell at him. Scream that this your house and that’s your food and he doesn’t have the cash to pay for a new place if it burns down. But realistically, you know he doesn’t care, you can’t fight him, and you don’t want to make this last any longer then it has too. 

“Get it over with quick, asshole.” you mumble, digging your fingers into the plush fabric.

A smirk curls onto his lips, “Yes ma’am.”

He pushes in in one, long unforgiving thrust that has your eyes widening and toes curling. Scrambling to find something - the couch doesn’t even feel like it’s enough once the tip finally kisses your cervix - to ground you. He starts his rhythm, slow, but only for a few snaps of his hips. Quickly, he starts building up speed, squeezing two large hands around your waist, pushing the air out of your lungs with every thrust. 

“Feels fuckin’ good.” he groans, landing a swift smack to your ass. You bite your lip, trying to drown out his grunts and pants as best you can. Your eyes dart to the shelf in the corner with your old college textbooks, then to the sanrio plushie you left abandoned on the coffee table some time ago, then to the dog laying on your neighbors balcony across the way.

Your eyes widen. 

“The windows open.” you say. quietly, because your mouth has gone dry as the desert and you’re afraid you might start crying if you yell.

“It is.” he nods, only glancing up before continuing his pace.

Your eyebrows furrow and you squirm a bit under him, but you feel a warning pressure on your lower back and you stop. Your heart rate starts to pick up in your chest. “Could you close the blinds?” you ask, hopefully.

He hums, coy smile teasing at his lips. “Why should I?” Punctuating the question with a thrust that knocks the air out of your lungs.

You wince at the pressure against your cervix, the beginnings of tears pricking at your eyes. “Because my neighbors could see!” You snap, a bit louder than you’d intended. Quickly, you cower down, cheeks flushing. “Just… please close them.” 

Tojis stops moving. For a moment he’s quiet, then, without a word of explanation, he pulls out of you and flips you on your back, forcing you to grab onto his neck for balance. Before you can even think to fight it, he’s hoisted you up into his arms and is making his way to the window.

But he doesn’t close the blinds. 

Instead, he drops you, and in one swift maneuver turns you around and presses your face into the glass. 

Immediately, your heart sinks. Hot tears spill down your cheeks, you can’t hold them back anymore. Babbling fruitless protests from behind the massive hand he’s clamped over your mouth. You can feel his smile twist upwards against your neck as he lines himself back up.

“Why are you bein’ so shy, baby?” he asks, running the head of his dick up and down your folds “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed of being my girl?”

Your eyes shoot open in panic as he slips the head in, bending over so his chest is pressing against your back. He takes your jaw in his hand and forces you to look out the window, down into the courtyard between apartment buildings when a few people are sitting.

“P-please Toji.” you sob, fingers curling against the glass as he starts up his rhythm again. “Please not where they can see.”

“I want them to see.” he growls, snapping his hips hard, making you yelp in pain. “I want them to know who’s dick you’re warming so none of those assholes think they have a chance while I’m gone.”

You gag as his hand moves to your throat, cutting off our air way with a squeeze. The corners of your vision go blurry, but you can still see the people in the courtyard. Two women laughing, a boy with a skateboard, and a man holding up his phone towards your apartment window.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan baby.” Toji snickers. Rivers of tear fall down your cheeks as he plaps away at your cunt. Incoherent pleas fall from your lips, but even you don’t know what you’re trying to say anymore. All you can focus on is the heat of his body and the bite of his teeth against your neck and the awful, awful pistoning into your cunt, leaving you sore and useless.

After what feels like a small lifetime you feel him grunt and bottom out, dumping his load into your pussy. But that doesn’t even matter. Youre to humiliated to even notice the cum leking out of you.

“Fuckin hot.” Toji grins, leaving a slap on your ass before standing upright. “Go turn the stove off and meet me in the shower. We aren’t done yet.”

As he walks away from you, you look back down at the people in the courtyard, but you find no one there. 

Toji will be the end of you, you think.

[ryzer4242]

I think you're one of the only blogs that I've seen that still does DOL 🥹. However, if you do have any recs for other blogs please let your girl know ❤️.

I saw your pinned post and was wondering how you felt about a soft-ish Whitney, as soft as he could be 😂, helping Reader go through her first experience of getting a tattoo.

Bonus points: If Reader gets a tattoo specifically about Whitney, like his name in a love heart, but he doesn't know 🥹❤️.

I don't have any blog recs!! Sorry 😭😭, even I'm having a hard time finding DoL fics!!

Male! Whitney x Fem Reader

TW: Name calling (slut), pure tsundere fluff

Whitney chuckled when he watched you lay out on the table. Cigarette still lit between his lips, the one the tattoo artist specifically told him to put out. But of course Whitney didn't, and it seemed the man didn't want to face Whitney’s wrath. With his arms crossed and leaning back, he looked comfortable, smug, relaxed even. If you yourself weren't so nervous, you might've noticed the slight furrow in his brow. He masked that little break in his facade by blowing another puff of smoke into your face, making you and the artist cough.

Laying flat on your stomach, head resting on your arms, you felt the artist begin. The stencil was applied a while ago, while Whitney was out of the room. You'd told him that you were too shy to let him see, which was normally something that would upset him. There was nothing the blond man hated more than being out of the loop. But it was your first tattoo, possibly your last depending on how you responded, so he was going to give you a little respect. Although, he didn't say that. His words were something more along the lines of “You probably got something stupid anyways,”.

The machine turned on and you jolted, heart thumping. The quick motion caused a clatter on the metal table, making the artist look up at you in annoyance. With you being skittish about the needle and Whitney's blatant disrespect of the rules, you both were possibly two of the worst clients he'd ever had.

“You sure you want this?” He muttered, voice still laced with frustration.

You nodded and opened your mouth so speak, but Whitney was fast, “‘Course she wants it,” he spat, “that thing is just loud and you know it.”

His tone was defensive, his eyes angry, lips pressed into a deep frown. The type of expression that you'd never want to be directed at you. Thankfully, it wasn't. But you also felt pity for the object of Whitney's fury. 

He began with one line. You could feel it. Drawn down the back of your thigh, right below your buttocks. The needle sank in and out of your flesh in rapid succession. Truthfully, you knew that you couldn't really feel each drop of pointed end sinking into you, but you adrenaline was already high, you felt like you feel the blood pumping through your veins if you tried hard enough.

“Hurts?” Whitney's voice was tender, barely audible over the way your ears felt like they were full of water.

You feared what you'd sound like if you spoke, so instead, you just nodded. A meek nod as he continued the art of the back of your thigh.

“Lighten up a little,” Whitney ordered the man, his glare hardening, “And watch that hand.”

You hadn't noticed the artist's hand on your rear. Not in a sexual way, of course, the man was just pushing it out of the way for leverage, you did choose a rather precarious spot after all. Plus he was even using the back of his hand out of respect, showing that he truly was getting nothing from the action. Yet you were Whitney's, down to the nails on your fingers and toes. So him seeing something being handsy with what was his, especially while already on high alert, had him practically fuming. If not for the fact that you had a half finished piece on your leg, he would've pummeled the guy right where he sat.

You reached your hand out to Whitney, taking his into your own. It was a gesture to call him, but mostly to feel secure. As the time ticked on and more ink pressed into your skin, the pain worsened. The skin now growing swollen and red, but you could tell it was getting closer to the end, or at least you hoped it was. Whitney didn't protest to you squeezing his hand. When you did it hard, wincing from the way it hurt, he'd give you two like squeezes back. Like he was reassuring you.

“How much longer?” He asked. He still sounded furious, but it was a quiet anger. Like each whispered word was dipped in venom. Had he noticed that you were growing anxious with all the loud noises? 

“Finishing up now,” the artist said fearfully. And just as he said, after a few more grueling lines, the machine was turned off.

The pain was still there, a slight throbbing on your now raw skin. But a few wipes of the cool cleaning solution made it all better. You let out a sigh of relief before Whitney patted your cheek with his hand. He was cool to the touch, the opposite of your warmth.

“Go look at it,” his voice was like a balm to your soul as he gestured towards the mirror with his head. Only you could experience such softness from Whitney and when he noticed how tender he was being towards you, he pulled back. “Hurry up, we don't have all day.”

You stood from the table and walked towards the mirror. That's when he finally saw it. There was a little hitch in Whitney's throat. It could've been a gasp, but it seemed as if he stopped himself before he could. Yet he couldn't fight back the reaction entirely. You looked down at the back of your thigh in the mirror, smirking at lettering.

Whitney's as clear as day was written in near cursive across the back of your leg. Encased in a heart.

You looked back at him to gauge his reaction, just to be met with a frown and crossed arms. You were the only person on this planet who could read Whitney, you were the only one who could see that his cheeks were growing read beneath his angry expression.

“You really are stupid, slut,” he grumbled, flicking you on the forehead, “My stupid slut for life,” he looked down at the tattoo with softer eyes before placing a kiss to the throbbing top of your head.

[ryzer4242]

I feel like I've been away for so long but I was reading through some of your childe/Ajax content and I was thinking he would love a darling being parental or good with kids. Like i know he would love to have a little family tucked away

- 🍓

THE WORST THING YOU CAN DO IN FRONT OF CHILDE IS BE DOTING AND KIND, I STG.

with that being said-

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Babysitter! Reader

Three big eyed, red headed children. That's what you were left with. Freckled faces and missing teeth, big smiles and fat cheeks. Their parents were leaving on a trip and even though the adored their young so much, they told you with exasperated words that they were desperate for a break. You'd be paid handsomely, with a room tucked in the back of their humble home, and of course, eat what ever you like from their stock. Just, watch the children please.

The kids were no angels. Not quite little devils yet, but they were well behaved, but a tad bit too excitable. One had a habit of wandering off. The other, liked to climb, nearly giving you a heart attack when you saw him making his way to the room of the house from a very thin tree branch, and the one girl was into playing pranks. Take your eyes off of one and the other was already wreaking havoc. It didn't take you long to understand why their parents were so desperate for just a few days of silent peace.

A knock on the door caught your attention as you made dinner. Snezhnaya was freezing constantly and in the days since you'd been there, you'd grown accustomed to making soups. The children loved it as well. With one of them under your arms and another running around your feet in an attempt to trip you, you opened the heavy, wooden door and came face to face with orange hair, freckles, and a playful smile. Only this one was taller. Much, much taller.

"Brother!" The children cheered in unison, rushing into his arms and knocking him over from the sheer force of their apparent adoration from the man. He fell back gracelessly into the snow, and the clamored on top of him, not even giving him the chance to get back up. You'd attempt to help him, if not for his laughter beneath the little pile of children and ice.

"Manners," the man playful scolded them through boughts of laughter, while squeezing the girls plump cheeks, "You shouldn't act this way in front of company."

While still standing on the ground, he gestured to you, finally locking eyes with you. His, as blue as his siblings, felt so colorless in comparison to the childlike wonder that filled his siblings. He lifted himself up with ease, showing his true strength as the children dangled off of him like little monkeys, holding tightly as he approached you. The man, removing his glove, held his hand out to you, thin fingers red at the tips from the cold.

"Ajax," his name was followed by a charming smile.

A firm shake was your response, "I'm the babysitter."

"Babysitter," he repeated and you nodded. Ajax looked down at the children still clinging tightly to his clothing, "Is she any good?"

His question was followed by a choir of praise, all happening at once, with each child saying something different, yet kind. You felt your cheeks flush from the compliments, looking away bashfully, maybe that's why you didn't notice the little smirk that played at his lips.

He carried the children indoors with ease, a testament to his strength, before tossing them down onto the couch, earning him fits of giggles. You'd think that a brother would care more for his siblings, ones that he presumably hadn't seen in a while, yet his attention was back on you in an instant. You who had remembered dinner still on the stove, rushed to the kitchen to stir the pot, blissfully unaware of his presence. He stood there, back against the doorway, arms crossed as he just watched you, taking in every on of your practiced movements as you tasted and seasoned the food.

"And you can cook too?" He finally said, then he took a few sniffs of the air. It smelled of the home cooked meal, and you in that apron, so cute and sweet, was the best part of it all.

"I can do a bit," you replied, still trying to seem humble in front of what was essentially a stranger. The parents had mentioned their older children most of which had long since moved out and gone their own way. You supposed that this was the son who traveled for work, the one who would pop by from time to time with gifts and toys for his beloved younger siblings.

"Nonsense, dinner smells amazing," hs picked up one of the rolls you baked from the tabled and practically marked in the softness, "I'm surprised your husband would allow something so precious out of the home. I would never make you work day in your life."

You giggled at what you assumed was a joke, only to see that there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his face, if anything, this was the most deathly serious he'd looked since you met him.

"No husband," you corrected, "And I don't mind the work, I love children."

You watched as he cocked an eyebrow, "Do you?"

You response was a nod. Above you were all the bowls, upon reaching to grab one, you felt something firm and warm press against your back. Ajax, barely had to lift his arm to bring the bowls down, it seemed like nothing to a man of his height. Yet, even after he'd completed the task, he kept you caged between his large frame and the cold counter.

"Maybe a boyfriend, then?" He questioned with a tilt of his head. Your hands reached to grab the bowls from him, but he snatched them away before you could, the smirk on his face telling you that he had no intentions of handing them over until you answered.

"No. I don't have a boyfriend," the bowls were promptly placed into your hands the second the last syllable left your lips.

"How fortunate," Ajax hummed once more.

At the sound of silverware clattering while you se the table, the children rushed in, past their brother and at their seat at the table. Their loud chatter filled the room and their immediate antics took your attention away from Ajax. But, from the corner, he watched as you placed their napkins on their laps, dishes up their food, and assisted them in eating their meals.

Upon finally taking his place at the table, Ajax looked absolutely smitten. Although you were too focused on the way the small children were avoiding the vegetables in their soup to notice. It seemed as though even the way you scolded them, your voice firm, but compassionate, was making him grow even more infactuated with you.

A man who always longed for children of his own, he saw his future with you. Not his siblings at the table, but his own young being fed and doted on by your tender hands. He let out a longing sigh before taking a bite of his own food, closing his eyes in bliss at the taste. Yes, you were truly perfect, weren't you?

[ryzer4242]

Iwaizumi NSFW Alphabet

Thank you so much for commissioning me! It was a wonderful surprise to find in my inbox >3< 

Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) -The NSFW Alphabet

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, mentions of NON-CON

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Iwaizumi chills out a lot after sex, getting any pent-up stress out of his body.  

He’s not super great at showing affection, but he’ll push your hair out of your face and stroke your cheek sleepily

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his biceps. He’s incredibly strong and he’s proud that his hard work has paid off.

He’s the kind of guy that accidentally looks down your shirt and sees your cleavage and blushes and gets all embarrassed. He doesn’t care what size of breasts you have, he’s just a boob guy.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Thick, but not a whole lot of it. He can cum multiple times, but he doesn’t have huge loads each time. It tastes very salty.

D: Dirty Secret

He’d never, ever tell anyone, but despite being a manly man, he wouldn’t mind a bit of domination on your part.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Iwaizumi has seen a lot of porn, but he doesn’t have much hands-on experience. Most girls don’t give him a second glance when he’s got Oikawa next to him.

F: Favorite Position

Doggy style. He likes being in charge and might pull on your hair a little.

He also likes the way your boobs move back and forth when he’s pounding into you.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

He’s definitely serious, as he’s a serious guy. He doesn’t have anything to make the mood lighter.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think he’d be somewhat trimmed, especially if he knows he’s getting some. But sometimes he lets it grow a little out of control.

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

He tries to be romantic, he really does, but the best he can do is growl “I love you” from time to time. At least he really does mean it.

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He is mechanical in his movements. Each stroke is pretty much the same and not slow nor fast. He gets off in around the same time every masturbation session.

He watches a lot of porn, but he imagines you in the actors’ places.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling

Spanking

Leaving hickeys on your neck and breasts

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He’s not particularly into doing it in public, but he will if you really want to.

He prefers to use a bed or couch, but he’ll also bend you over any old counter or table if you act bratty enough.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Short skirts and lots of cleavage makes him drool.

Acting a little bratty will also get his dick hard.

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Iwaizumi is into trying just about anything, honestly, but he doesn’t like hurting you too much.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving- thrusting into your mouth and cumming right down your throat.

But if you give him the chance, he’ll eat you out like he needs your cum to breathe.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

He’s slow and rough, going faster when he’s close. He likes to draw out the sex for multiple orgasms.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

He doesn’t mind them at all. He prefers dragging it out, but he’ll take any sex he can get.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 

Iwaizumi is down to try just about everything, as long as you’re game!

He doesn’t really love to take risks, but if you’re into it, so is he.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Iwaizumi can go many rounds and can last a long time. Unless you’re expecting a quickie, you better set aside a few hours for sexy time.

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He does not own any toys for himself and is hesitant to use them.

For you, he might have a vibrator, just so he can watch you squirm and mewl.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s not much of a tease, but sometimes he likes to watch you squirm under a vibrator or oral.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He grunts, low and deep. When he cums, he makes a feral growl sound.

W: With or without consent (Non-con or consensual?)

He’ll take you either way. He loves you so much, how long can you expect him to keep it in his pants?

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Iwaizumi is BIG. Longer than average and incredibly thick. Very intimidating.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’d love to fuck at least once a day. His sex drive is kinda high.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep quickly with you in his arms, if you’ve done it on the bed.

[ryzer4242]

Do you think that they would be so mad that they didn’t get to nationals that they will take it out on reader?

(Hq)

AHHH I love this concept. It reminds me of “Fantatic” by jackrrabbit. (Wonderfully horrifying story, read at your own risk)

I wasn’t sure how to do this, so I just decided to write a little open-ended mini-story

WARNINGS: yandere themes, violence towards reader

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. They had lost. HE had lost.

If only he’d been faster, the ball might not have hit the ground. He should have pushed himself more. Should have practiced more. Worked harder.

Fury rose like a fire inside of him. Prospects of going to Nationals disappeared like smoke. 

He stormed out of the stadium alongside his teammates. Everyone else was crying, but him? He was consumed with an anger that seemed impossible to put out.

Somehow, he found himself alone with you. His teammates had continued on, heading for the bus. But here you were, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes that he always loved.

He knew he should get his anger out by practicing spikes or serves. He knew he should just get on the bus and go home.

He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you close, practically spitting in your face as he calls you names. Your eyes fill with tears. You couldn’t understand why he was treating you so badly when you always thought of him as a nice guy.

He knew it was wrong, that this kind of behavior was horrible and something he can’t take back, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

When he had finished berating you, he watched in a sick sort of triumph as your tears dripped from your trembling chin. Then, he cooed at you, wiped away a stream of tears and said he was sorry.

He wasn’t.

[ryzer4242]

The Wrong Twin (Yandere Osamu)

Asked privately on my Quotev! Another attempt to write longer.

Title: The Wrong Twin

Pairings: Yandere! Miya Osamu x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, timeskip spoilers for Osamu’s job

“Here she is!” Atsumu sang, flinging his arms open to frame your confused and, frankly, embarrassed figure.

“Atsumu…” you trailed off, playing with your fingers and staring down at the floor. 

“‘Samu,” Atsumu placed his hands on his hips, “Aren’t ya going to say ‘hello’?”

Osamu didn’t look up right away. He continued slicing a cucumber with practiced ease for a full 30 seconds before his cool gray eyes finally landed on you. He gave you a shallow nod, said “hey”, then returned to the vegetables.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said nervously.

“I bet,” came his dry response.

Atsumu snorted, “Don’t mind him, he’s grumpy when he’s hungry.”

“I’m not hungry,” Osamu said blandly, “I just don’t get excited about temporary things.”

He looked you over a second time. Sweet. Shy. Not really Atsumu’s usual type. If anything, you were more Osamu’s type, but anyone who picked Atsumu as their boyfriend must be incredibly dense.

You shot a questioning look at Atsumu, and Osamu almost laughed. You must be dumb if you haven’t heard about Atsumu’s extensive dating history. Pump and dump kinda guy- you’d be lucky if you lasted a week.

“‘Samu,” Atsumu whined, “Ya know I wouldn’t introduce her to ya if she wasn’t important. We’ve been dating a whole month.”

Osamu stopped cutting vegetables, blinking in surprise. A month? Well, that was certainly… interesting.

His eyes narrowed as he studied your face again. Your eyes darted away bashfully, like you were worried he was judging you. He was.

Atsumu, dating someone for a month? Without cheating and ghosting? That was a miracle. But now he was dragging her into his shop, asking for his approval like they were a couple of teenagers visiting the parents. Unbelievable.

He turned back to the cutting board and started chopping again. The knife was hitting the wood a little harder now. “Yer serious?” he asked without looking up again.

Atsumu laughed, “‘Course I am. You think I bring every girl into the apartment? Nah. This one’s special.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

Special.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye. You looked so happy and hopeful, like you believed him. Poor thing.

“She know about Ame? Or Hana? Or that girl from training camp- what was her name again?” Osamu asked innocently.

Atsumu shook his head, looking a little pissed, “Why are ya bringing that up now?”

Osamu watched the way your smile faltered. Good. Maybe you’re not completely braindead.

You opened your mouth like you were going to ask, but you closed it again, looking at Atsumu expectantly. You were clearly waiting for an explanation.

He didn’t offer one. Instead, he intertwined your fingers with his and smiled at you.

Osamu gripped the knife tighter. “A whole month- hope it lasts.” His mind raced. If it didn’t last- and it wouldn’t- then what?

Would you cry? Would you come back here?

Would you even remember Osamu’s name?

Why would that matter? 

Osamu scoffed to himself. He tried to force his focus back to the chopping of a carrot, but it wasn’t working. The deepness of Atsumu’s laugh as he talked to you and the way you giggled softly back was grating like sandpaper on his ears.

It matters.

The fact that it did matter pissed him off more.

You were too soft. You’d get swept up in Atsumu’s sweet words and flashy grin without stopping to really think about it. You’d fall hard, Osamu could tell, and when Atsumu got bored, you’d be left broken and confused, wondering “What did I do wrong?”

He hated girls like you.

And yet, something the way you tilted your head to look up at Atsumu and the way you kept nervously glancing at Osamu wasn’t like the others. The others were pushy and fake. You weren’t trying to win his heart, you were just there.

Sweet, stupid, but not hollow. That made things worse because for the first time in a long time, Osamu wondered what it would feel like to be the one next to you. To have your shy glances and your affection. Not Atsumu. Him.

“‘Samu,” Atsumu spoke up, oblivious to the storm brewing behind the counter, “We’re gonna go to that bakery down the street.”

“Whatever,” Osamu said blandly.

He let you leave without looking after you, but the soft “Thank you” that you said as you left stuck in his head longer than it should have.

When the door closed, the silence returned. Osamu stared down at the knife clenched tightly in his fist and exhaled slowly, putting it down on the counter so he could put his hands over his face.

It wouldn’t last, that much he was sure. And when it didn’t, he wanted to be there. Not out of kindness, but because something inside him had started to ache in a way it never had before.

If Atsumu didn’t know how to hold onto you, then maybe Osamu would take you for himself.

—----------------------------------------------------

Osamu pushed open the apartment door and looked around. The lights were off and so was the TV. He felt a little relieved- maybe Atsumu was asleep. He wouldn’t have to see that awful grin on his face. The one that looked like a kid who just got a new toy.

After a moment, he realized he could hear Atsumu’s muffled voice coming from his room. It seemed like he was on the phone. Osamu kicked off his shoes and started down the hallway to his own room, but something in Atsumu’s tone made him stop dead.

“I dunno man,” Atsumu sounded nervous, “It’s just different this time.”

There was a pause as the person on the other line talked to Atsumu. Osamu crept closer, pressing his ear to the door.

“She’s not like the others,” Atsumu said, laughing breathlessly, “She’s so sweet… and I can just be myself around her, not tryin’ to put on a show so I can get her in bed with me.”

Something in Osamu’s chest pulled tight. 

“I think she’s the one.”

Osamu froze entirely.

Atsumu had never said that about anyone. Not Ame, not Hana, not that girl from training camp, not any of the rotating names that made their ways quickly through his life. He didn’t believe in “the one”. 

But now he was saying it about you?

Osamu stepped away from the door as though it had punched him in the gut. That wasn’t right… Atsumu didn’t fall in love… He collected girls like souvenirs! Like notches on his bedpost!

You- the shy, sweet thing Osamu had barely said a word to- the one who looked at Atsumu like he hung the stars in the sky? You were supposed to be just another passing storm. Not this! Not permanent. 

He turned away from the door, his hands balled up in fists. Osamu had a problem because he couldn’t stand the idea of Atsumu loving you. Not when you were clearly someone who should have been his!

Atsumu didn’t deserve you. You had picked the wrong twin.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Atsumu poked his head into the kitchen, “Ya got a sec?”

Osamu shrugged.

Atsumu stepped in anyway, fidgeting like a little kid who wanted to ask his parents for candy, “I was wonderin’ if you could, I dunno, be a little nicer to her?”

“To your flavor of the month?”

Atsumu frowned, “C’mon, don’t do that. She ain’t like that.”

Osamu said nothing, packing up the supplies he’d need for the day. Atsumu ran a hand through his blond hair. “I’m serious about her, ‘Samu. And I get that you don’t believe that but she’s not the problem. She’s sweet and she’s tryin’, but she thinks you hate her.”

Osamu sighed noisily.

“She really wants to get along with ya, give her a chance!” he spread his arms wide and gave him a grin, “For me?”

“Fine,” Osamu said, pushing past his twin, “She can come by the shop tomorrow for a free meal.”

“How about today?” Atsumu suggested.

“Fine.”

To Osamu’s complete surprise, you ended up being his first customer of the day. He was surprised you got up so early and wondered if you did that for him. You looked nervous and Osamu didn’t know how to fix that. 

“Sit,” he said. You obeyed immediately, picking a seat where you could easily see in the kitchen. Just like he hoped, you watched him the entire time he made your meal. He was hyper-aware of the way your eyes followed his every move.

Eventually, he placed two onigiri (perfectly crafted), miso soup (perfect temperature), and a glass of iced tea (with the perfect ice-to-tea ratio) in front of you. You reached for your wallet, but he shook his head, “Think of this as a peace offering.”

“Thank you, Osamu,” you said with a sweet smile, “This looks delicious.”

Osamu nodded awkwardly and headed back to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight, he allowed himself to smile. You watched him like he mattered, you said “thank you”, and smiled at him… The girls Atsumu usually dated ignored him. Osamu was nothing compared to the bright spotlight that was Atsumu.

You sat there, slowly eating the food and sipping your iced tea, glancing at the kitchen as though you were waiting for him to return.

Osamu walked out and leaned against the counter, “Ya always up this early?”

You smiled softly, “I guess I like the quiet. Mornings are less crowded.”

He nodded, “Not a fan of noise?”

You giggled, “Atsumu’s the only exception.”

“He’s always been loud,” Osamu replied. You laughed, not catching the edge in his voice. “How’d he get ya?”

You tilted your head, confused. “Get me?”

“I mean,” he kept his tone neutral, “What makes you think ‘Tsumu is the one ya wanna be with? He burns through people like it’s a race.”

Your smile faltered, “He’s really kind to me. And honest.”

Osamu gave you his best dubious expression.

“I mean, he can be intense,” you admitted, “But he’s really sweet underneath that.”

“‘Tsumu’s always been impulsive. Gets bored fast.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you looked up at him, expression hard to read.

He shrugged as if it meant nothing, “He likes new things. New sports, new friends, new girls.”

There was a heavy silence.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said quickly, “Ignore me.”

You stared down at your half-eaten meal, eyes wide and smile gone.

“Sorry,” Osamu said, “Didn’t mean to upset ya.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, “I appreciate your honesty.”

Osamu nodded. You pushed a bit of rice around your plate with your chopsticks. He didn’t press- he didn’t have to. He knew what was going through your mind.

“Ya seem smart,” Osamu said, voice low.

“Um…” you looked up at him, “Thank you?”

“That’s why I’m surprised,” Osamu went on, “That yer with someone like him.”

You looked down at your meal again, “He told me he’s changed.”

“Maybe he has,” Osamu said smoothly, “I hope so.”

He let that settle in before adding on, “You heard about him and Ame, right?”

You looked up, alarmed, “No-”

“Sorry,” Osamu interrupted, “Forget I said anything about that.”

“Did he cheat on her?” you asked, looking alarmed. Osamu didn’t answer right away, then, very carefully…

“She was nice. A lot like you, actually.”

He gathered your tray in silence. You stood up robotically and let out a soft “thank you” before leaving. Osamu didn’t answer, he just watched you disappear.

And finally, in the empty shop, he allowed himself to smile again.

[ryzer4242]

Hi! I hope you understand my English! English is not my full language. I saw that the requests are open. I wanted to ask. Can you make the alphabet of Kita?(Haikyuu )Very grateful in advance!

Your English is perfect! I would love to make the alphabet for Kita!

Kita Shinsuke (Haikyuu) -The Yandere Alphabet

Warnings: yandere themes

A is for Affection: How do they show their affection for their darling? How often do they show it?

💖 Kita is not a PDA kind of person. He prefers soft, private moments.

💖 Even in private, Kita isn’t overtly romantic. There’s sweet moments where he brushes your hair out of your face or kisses you on the cheek softly, but there’s not a lot of making out with him.

💖 Affection can be few and far between with him. 

B is for Blood: How messy are they willing to get for their darling? Why?

🔪 Kita doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, but he’s surprisingly open to that option if someone isn’t leaving you alone. Or, worse, you aren’t leaving them alone.

🔪 Kita much rather prefers blackmail or framing to get rid of people, but if that doesn’t work, well…

C is for Care or Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they kidnap them? Would they mock them?

💔 Kita is a Care kind of guy. He’s gentle and loving, more than ever before.

💔 He does his best to keep you calm. He wants you to like it here, with him.

D is for Delusion: How delusional are they when it comes to their darling? Do they believe their darling loves them?

💭 Kita is not very delusional. He is intelligent and rational, which means he knows what he’s doing and feeling is wrong.

💭 He just doesn’t care.

💭 Seriously though, he is a very aware yandere. It doesn’t matter whether you love him back or not right now, he’ll find a way.

E is for Expose: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? How much time will it take to trust them?

💧Kita isn’t very open about his feelings- he gets compared to a robot quite often.

💧He keeps almost everything inside, but can be a little more vulnerable than average with you.

F is for Fight: How would they react if their darling fought back?

👊 Kita is an athlete, so he’s fairly strong. He can stop you easily.

👊 But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. He would feel very sad if you fought back.

G is for Guilt: What would it take for them to feel guilty about their actions? Or do they feel guilty from the start?

😔 Kita doesn’t feel guilty at the start. In fact, he feels like everything he does to you is deserved.

😔 Even if you get hurt because of him, Kita most likely won’t feel guilty. He might feel a little bad, but true guilt never surfaces.

H is for Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

🔥 I believe that Kita keeps everything bottled inside and when something sets him off, he sort of… explodes. With emotion, I mean.

🔥 You might actually get hurt if you set him off. 

🔥 But, mainly, the worst experience would be being kidnapped, since he’d almost never untie you.

I is for Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

👩‍❤️‍👨 Kita wants a very traditional life. You as his wife, and at least two children.

👩‍❤️‍👨 Kita does not care if you don’t want children- he wants that picket fence family whether you like it or not.

J is for Jealousy: How easily do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

💢 I believe Kita actually becomes jealous very easily.

💢 He feels as though he’s overshadowed by his teammates quite often and, when it comes to you, he can’t stand when you look at the others over him.

💢 He knows he’s kind of plain and bland in some people’s opinion, so he really does get jealous when you give attention to others.

K is for Kidnap: How would they go about kidnapping their darling? How much do they plan it out?

🔒 You would disappear and the world would never know where you went.

🔒 Seriously, he’s very good at planning and very intelligent. The kidnapping would go off without a hitch.

L is for Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

💌 Kita is a gift-giver in my opinion. 

💌 He brings you flowers and care packages, like the ones he leaves for sick teammates.

💌 He isn’t very good at face-to-face interaction, but I’m not sure he’d go the secret admirer route when he’s such a jealous person.

M is for Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they acted before?

🎭 Other than when he loses it, Kita is pretty much the same.

🎭 Even when he kidnaps you, he is calm and collected, like he always is.

N is for Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

🚓 Kita isn’t one for physical punishment, but he will leave you alone for days until you’re begging him to come back.

🚓 Starvation is not what he’d do, you’d still be well-fed and watered for days in a dark room all alone.

O is for Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? What rights can be earned with time and trust?

📜 Kita keeps you tied up most of the time. He doesn’t trust you at all.

📜 Even when you’re eventually given “freedom”, you’ll never leave the house.

P is for Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

🕊️ Kita is not easy to set off. You’d have to try to make him mad until he bursts.

🕊️ Usually, Kita is sweet, gentle, and patient. 

Q is for Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

🏃‍♀️ Kita would be broken from any of these options. He wouldn’t chase after you if you escaped- he’d be too broken-hearted.

🏃‍♀️ If you died, he’d probably keep you in your bed until you became a skeleton, unable to deal with his feelings of loss.

R is for Rage: How do they act when angry? How do they calm down?

👿 Kita keeps it all bottled up, so generally he doesn’t show that he’s angry.

👿 But if he explodes, you’re likely to get hurt, or at least yelled at until he’s hoarse.

S is for Soulmate: What made them fall in love with their darling? How did they first meet? When did they realize they loved their darling?

💍He loves the way you care for others- whether they be human or animal.

💍You would have met in an educational setting. He’d watch you study in the library and eat lunch in the cafeteria- enamored with you.

T is for Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

😭 Kita doesn’t seem to react at all. If anything, he seems to be annoyed by this behavior.

😭 He doesn’t like when you cry because it feels more childish than being the mother of his future children.

U is for Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

👌 Kita is obsessed with a traditional family with him as the figurehead and a rice farmer.

👌 He wants multiple kids, despite however you feel about it.

V is for Visit: Would they allow anyone else to visit their darling? Do they trust their darling to talk to their loved ones (in person, on the phone, etc.) or not at all?

🧳No. Lol.

W is for Weakness: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

❌ Making Kita explode can be an advantage because he becomes so flustered afterwards that he might just forget to tie you back up.

X is for Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

🛐 Kita is honestly perfectly fine with kidnapping instead of flirting.

🛐 He doesn't put a lot of work into winning you over, so you might not know he even exists before being kidnapped.

Y is for Yearning: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

😍 Kita can watch for a long time. Years even.

😍 But jealousy will send him over the edge.

Z is for Zero Tolerance: What is the thing that always makes them snap? What things will they not allow their darling to do under any circumstances?

0️⃣ Disrespect is something he will not accept.

0️⃣ Spit in his face and he will 100% lose it.

[ryzer4242]

hey, I see your request is open! so if there's still a spot, can I request a yandere leona with a y/n with cuteness aggression? he often saw her play with the other beast student's tails or ears, and would throw herself unto jack's wolf form giving him belly rubs and all that. now, he's DEFINITELY not the definition of 'cute', but he does wish he could get some of that intense attention too.

-🐏

This is literally such a cute request >3< Trying to make longer stories since that’s what you guys voted for!

Title: Fluffy Jealousy

Pairings: Yandere! Leona Kingscholar x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, cuteness aggression, reader turned out a bit cringy

“This is (Y/n) (L/n) and, starting today, she will be a Savanaclaw student!” Headmaster Crowley said, opening his arms in a grand gesture. You stood behind him, positively beaming, your eyes roaming the dorm’s common room with excitement.

Leona made a face. He never liked Crowley’s eccentric ideas, but putting a female in with a bunch of hormonal beastmen was just stupid. Sure, he could get you a room without a roommate and he could keep the others in line, but it would be a hassle. 

Leona hated hassles.

Being Housewarden was much more frustrating than he had anticipated. Why was Crowley dumping the magicless girl on him? Why not Riddle or Kalim?

He looked at you with distaste. Your eyes were locked on his tail, following the progress of each irritated twitch. 

Leona spotted Ruggie walking by and grabbed him by the collar. Ruggie protested with a “Hey-!” but the lion beastman practically shoved him into you. 

“Ruggie can give you a tour while I prepare a room for you,” Leona said before turning around and stalking away, tail lashing.

Before he disappeared around the corner, he looked back to see you pointing at Ruggie’s ears, a playful smile on your face. He rolled his eyes and huffed. He didn’t want to think about you anymore. 

It was giving him a headache.

—----------------------------------------------

Leona pushed a tack through the poster, putting it smack dab in the middle of the notice board. Students quickly surrounded the board, excitement fizzling through the air. 

DORM-WIDE MAGIC DUELS

On this coming Friday, there will be a Savannaclaw dueling competition for a prize of 1,000 marks. Practice is allowed ONLY on the flying grounds when class is not in session AND under your Housewarden’s watch.

You pushed your way through the crowd, unable to see over all the beastmen’s heads. Your eyes brightened as soon as you saw the poster, eagerly reading it before turning to Jack and saying, “Wow! I can’t wait!”

Over the past week, you seemed to have grown close to Jack Howl, along with two Heartslabyul students. Leona couldn’t say he approved, but at least you were leaving him alone.

“Leona!” he had spoken too soon. You were waving enthusiastically at him, “Can we go practice right now?”

Leona curled his lip, “‘We’? You don’t have any magic.”

You laughed, “I meant that I would be cheering Jack on, not that I wanted to participate.”

He was prepared to say ‘no’, but several other students wanted to start practicing right away. He sighed and motioned for everyone to follow him.

When they arrived, all of the students paired up. Leona rolled his eyes when he saw that Jack had paired up with you. 

“What’s your signature spell?” you asked the wolf beastman.

In an instant, Jack had disappeared and, in his place, was a wolf. Instead of being frightened, you let out a squeal and launched yourself towards him. You rubbed the sides of his neck, then scratched behind his ears aggressively.

“Oh my GOSH you’re so cute!” you squealed, “I could just squeeze you to death!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed. 

Ruggie sidled up next to Leona, “Looks like they’re having fun.”

Jack rolled over onto his back, letting you rub his belly fur with fervor. Leona’s lip curled again in distaste. “She’s crazy.”

His companion giggled as though he knew something Leona didn’t, which only served to piss him off more.

“What?” Leona snapped.

“Nothing, boss,” Ruggie whistled and put his hands behind his head, “Just that you look a little jealous.”

“Jealous? That’s ridiculous,” Leona sneered. Ruggie giggled again and strolled off to join the practice.

Leona crossed his arm, his tail lashing with every obnoxious noise you made. 

“Who’s a good boy?” you praised Jack, rubbing every inch of his fur while his tail wagged, “You’re a good boy! Such a good boy! You’re so fluffy!”

Ruggie was wrong- he wasn’t jealous of Jack. He certainly didn’t wish he was lying on his back in front of everyone while you rubbed his belly.

He approached you and Jack, tail lashing.

“Jack, this is a serious practice. Not cuddle hour.”

Jack shifted back into his human form, a blush on his cheeks, “Sorry, Housewarden.” He brushed grass from his arms and stepped away from you. For some strange reason, that made Leona feel a lot better.

Frowning slightly, you opened your mouth as though to argue, but Leona cut you off before you could speak, “You were being very distracting to the other students- screaming about wanting to squeeze him to death and other nonsense.”

You huffed and stood, looking him directly in the eye, “So what if I was excited? I just love beastmen! You guys are so cute! You act all though, but your ears and tail give you away, you know.

Leona took a step forward, towering over you. You looked straight into his intense gaze as though challenging him back.

“I’m not cute,” he snapped, “Try that with me and I’ll bite.”

You grinned, “Promise?”

Ruggie choked on air and Jack’s eyes went wide. Flustered, Leona stared at you in shock. He had been trying to scare you, but you just wore an unflinching, dopey grin.

“You don’t know what you’re messing with, herbivore,” he snarled.

You patted his arm as though he was the confused one and said, “It’s okay, big kitty, I’ll give you attention too.”

A growl rumbled low in his throat, but you were not intimidated. If anything, you looked amused. You reached out for his lashing tail and asked, “May I?”

“Absolutely not,” Leona said, pulling his tail away before your fingers could graze his fur. 

“Will you ever let me pet you?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips.

“Not unless hell freezes over,” he said, enunciating every syllable. 

You giggled as though he’d told a funny joke, “So wait for the apocalypse? Noted.”

Leona stared at you, dumbfounded. What kind of person looks a predator in the eyes and asks to pet its tail? 

He watched as you bounced back over to Jack as though nothing had even happened. You began to scratch behind his ears, making the wolf beastman look like he was in heaven.

Leona had meant it. He meant it when he said he’d bite. He meant the part about hell freezing over. But still…

He could still feel your hand- your grubby, furless, warm hand- almost grazing his tail.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Leona laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, one leg dangling off the edge lazily. The dorm was finally quiet, all students either studying quietly or sleeping. 

He should be asleep too, but he couldn’t stop his tail from twitching. He reached over and grabbed the fluff at the end of his tail and tried to picture your hands holding it instead.

Immediately, he let go and sat up, growling at himself. What was wrong with him?

You were just some girl that Crowley dumped on him. You were loud and annoying. You had zero magic power. You tackled Jack and scratched ears without even thinking about it. You called him “big kitty” like you were in some cat cafe.

There was nothing appealing about you.

Except maybe the way you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

And maybe the way you weren’t afraid or intimidated of him like most of the other students in the school was something he admired.

You treated him like he wasn’t dangerous and something about that made it impossible for him to let go.

Leona dragged a hand down his face, let out a groan, and flopped back onto his bed.

He was Leona Kingscholar, Prince of the Sunset Savanna and Housewarden of Savanaclaw. He was a second-born who didn’t take crap from anyone.

He certainly didn’t pine for a human girl who treated beastmen’s ears like plush toys.

He had crushed harder things beneath his heel than stupid feelings.

So why wouldn’t these feelings just go away?

Your stupid smile was on loop- the moment you asked “May I?” and actually meant it. You looked like touching his tail would make your day. And the worst part was that he almost let you!

You were supposed to be a problem- a nuisance.

So what were you doing to him?

—-------------------------------------------------

You strolled through the Botanical Garden, looking at the amazing plants. Your fingers brushed the petals and leaves, your face lighting up at all the textures. You winced and pulled a hand back when you felt it pricked, and you frowned down at the drop of blood sliding down your finger. 

You had just wandered beneath the hanging moss when you felt an overwhelming presence behind you. You tried to turn around, but you weren’t fast enough.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hauled you backwards. Before you could do anything more than gasp, another arm slipped under your knees, lifting you off your feet.

“Leona?!” you looked up at his face in shock. He carried you deep into the garden, ignoring your squirming as though you weighed nothing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m done playing nice,” he growled.

He dropped to his knees and laid you beneath him, pinning your wrists on either side of your head and caging your legs between his. You looked up at him at a loss from words.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he accused.

“I- huh?”

“You didn’t look at me once today. You spent the entire day with Jack.”

“Okay and?” you were starting to look annoyed.

Leona’s voice was a deep, rumbling growl, “Stop playing with my feelings, herbivore.”

You were completely nonplussed- you hadn’t been intentionally ignoring him. You just had a great day with Jack. But now that you knew he had your attention, you weren’t about to let go of it. “Did you miss my attention?”

His tail swept forward, fluffy portion curling under your chin. He collapsed on top of you carefully and heavily. His cologne filled your nose and his breath was warm against your cheek.

“I’m not letting you go until you make it up to me,” he murmured possessively, “Every belly rub you gave that dumb mutt? Every scratch behind the ears? I want double. You owe me.”

“Do I?” you laughed, wiggling around under him but making no real escape attempts. “Has hell frozen over?”

He growled but refused to answer.

“Fine,” you giggled, “But I’m still calling you ‘big kitty’!”

[ryzer4242]

Hello, and I would like to mainly praise your writing. Hello, I love your stories so much, they are so addictive and fascinating. Your Yanderes are so well developed and intricate.

Character list to write about (Hashirama Senju, Mito Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, and Tobirama Senju)

With a female reader who is absurdly powerful in all types of jutsu - ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu, fūinjutsu, senjutsu, and shinjutsu, etc. The reader has Absolute Condition; *_https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Peak_Human_Condition/Absolute_*

Reader's story: https://docs.google.com/document/d/16fzdrI1h39lOXhqAfAbRr-4G1xQoK7TLCdPdkH2Cp1c/edit?usp=drivesdk

🎀♥️♥️♥️♥️

I couldn't open the google document so I couldn't include the post you had probably envisioned.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, obsession, clinginess, controlling behavior, paranoia, isolation, death

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

S/o is absurdly powerful

Uchiha Madara

​🌑​Now, Madara isn't opposed at all to a woman who can stand up to him. It gets his blood boiling in all the right ways as he would enjoy himself someone with whom he can play fire with. There is a catch to it all though. He can respect power but only as long as the odds are at maximum even between the both of you. Yet one can only imagine that there is someone out there stronger than even him or his friend Hashirama. Obviously alliances are offered to you from everyone as your powers are desired from all. Madara answers with typical Uchiha violence known in the times of war as he understands what is at stake. In his mind perhaps it also makes the most sense for you to align yourself with his clan and eventually the Leaf Village after peace has been made between the Uchiha and the Senju. After all they are the strongest and for that have the most to offer to you. If he figures out that anyone else has made a similar offering to you he might just request a fight where your alliance is at stake. It is very much reminiscent of the way knights would battle for the hand of a princess and in some violent ways perhaps it is. If you are the price, he won't back down in either case.

🌑After having handled matters in a more civilised manner where he specifically followed Hashira's pleads to not start a war with any newly formed villages already and has silenced anyone who wanted your loyalty sworn to their village, you ultimately decide to join the Leaf Village. That's when another silent war breaks out though as now the Senju and Uchiha clan start their own battle of whom gets to wed you to one of their own. Here is where Madara gets possessive now, even when in company of his friend Hashirama who is considered as an option for you to marry. After all he is the one who fought of quite literally those who pursued you with similar goals. He spilled blood in your name whilst Hashirama didn't go to such grand measurements in favor of peaceful conversations. In Madara's eyes that is already proof enough that he is more suited as he could offer you the more intense and passionate love. He has made peace but he still has his pride and he would very much like for the Uchiha to be the ones that can boast about you being one of them. He doesn't leave that even up to discussion. He makes his point clear to Hashirama who backs off for him as a good friend.

🌑You probably end up being the pride of the clan yet simultaneously you end up being closely monitored by the Uchiha at the same time. They want the power but they also need the control over you to ensure that you stay an Uchiha, something you are bound to notice. That's where Madara stands up fiercely and defends you. He hates being chained down just as much and he has firsthand experience with the persistence of especially the elder warriors in his clan. Deep down he has considered some of their fears as well but he would rather express them in different matters which would only end alienating you from them. Matters have to be approached in a different manner as you aren't just simply an enemy anyone from his clan could just take on, you're too powerful for that. Even he would greatly struggle and he doesn't know if he would emerge victorious if he were to clash with you. At times it might silently torment him but it is impossible not to respect the sheer power that you possess. Nevertheless though, he is very much ready to show you off as he has every reason to be proud of the fact that you are his wife and that you will eventually be the one to carry his heir.

Senju Hashirama

🌳​Where everyone else would only approach with fear and caution, Hashirama approaches with amazement and genuine excitement. He's in pure awe when he finds out abour your limitless abilities. It's perhaps strange for you to meet someone like him as you are most likely used to people only desiring you as a weapon in times of war. Hashirama somehow senses instinctively that you are not a person to be scared of though hence his friendly introduction. That wariness though is something he immediately knows where to place though the moment it flickers across your face. Sometimes it is hard to forget with his enthusiastic and friendly attitude that Hashirama has been on battlefields since he was only a little child. Though he may not know your past yet he understands that you must be far too familiar with people wanting to use you to gain more influence and power. So he decides to not pressure nor threaten you even if his own clan calls him naive for it. He should push more and make you offers to convince you that his clan and eventually the village he builds is the best option but Hashirama refuses. He gives you a choice which you never had before and that is ultimately what makes you accept.

🌳The moment you do join, he starts being slightly overwhelming. He visits your house to inform himself how you are settling in, he inquires constantly how you are feeling and if there is anything he can do to help you be more comfortable. It starts out as very sincere actions born from his natural friendliness. It turns over time though in the smothering obsession you eventually get used to. Through it all though Hashirama always only wants the best for you even if he is being far more pushy than he probably has any right to be. He doesn't take any hits to his own ego when someone questions him if he believes that you might be even stronger than he is. Instead he talks much rather how amazing your abilities are and just what a kind heart you actually have despite a childhood that consisted only of being abused as a weapon and fighter on the battlefields. In his eyes you are a strong and beautiful woman and that even without all the powers that you hold. His clan heavily tries to push the marriage onto you, especially since Hashirama's spilling fondness is more than obvious. He shields you from that only to ask you the next day the same thing, only with less force and more sincerity.

🌳He doesn't let you fight though, all the more if you yourself don't wish to do so anymore. He doesn't care if others accuse you of being disloyal to the Leag Village and the Senju clan. He doesn't even care when his own younger brother scolds him harshly for his ridiculous need to shield you. You are the last person who would ever go down on the battlefield, not with the abilities that you have. But it isn't about the physical strength to Hashirama. He knows that you would always be the last person to still stand. It is your mental strength that he worries about and the reason why he never calls you into shinobi duties. You have spend your life fighting and killing, only being used as a weapon and he refuses to demand the same thing from you. Your powers can be used in other ways to help the village outside of spilling blood and if that should be your wish then he respects it. He has promised you a happy life where you would never have to turn into the version of yourself that only knew how to kill and not how to live. He'd rather go out and fight himself then ever order it from you. You have fought long enough already. Now you deserve a happy life and he will provide it for you.

Senju Tobirama

🌊You can't expect the same warm welcome that you would receive from someone like his older brother. Tobirama is the polar opposite of Hashirama and that for good reasons. Otherwise his brother with his far too big heart would probably let about anyone join the newly formed village. Tobirama on the other hand doesn't just allow you to be part of the village. He normally demands a thorough review on your past as well as what skills you would bring if you plan to be a shinobi. It's your sheer display of power that causes an immediate tumult though which he is forced to put on a leash before everyone loses their mind. Some people mutter that you are too powerful and that you could potentially overthrow everything that is currently being build. Most vote for you to join as the consequences qould be dire if they were to reject and you were to join another village. The stronger the shinobi in the Leaf Village, the easier other nations will bow their heads. They already have the Senju and the Uchiha with them, the two arguably most powerful clans. With you no one would ever dare to go against them. Tobirama understands both sides and that you most likely won't wait forever for them to argue it out.

🌊The benefit would be greater for you to become part of the village and so you are allowed to join. That doesn't mean by far though that Tobirama has let you off the hook already. He keeps surveillance on you. He doesn't trust you fully yet. Now, he is never one to just trust any stranger but it has to be said that your sheer power plays an additional part in it all. You aren't just someone that even someone like him could easily stop. If you turn out to be a traitor or if you have any malicious intentions at all, casualities would be immense. That is something Tobirama has to avoid if the worst case scenario should ever happen. So he has a team of only the best monitoring you all the time for any suspicious behavior. Eventually you admit to him one time that you find it sort of cute how little he trusts you due to him constantly spying on you. He takes quiet but deeply personal offense. Not because you found out and didn't tell him. More because he spots a gap in the plan he himself came up with to always keep an eye for you. Clearly his plan wasn't good enough if you still ended up noticing it. You only telling him much later is still the cherry on top because now he feels mocked.

🌊It's begrudging respect that eventually turns into an obsession. Your skills are to be feared but for someone like Tobirama who constantly tries to invent new techniques and jutsu, it is also unintentionally a gold mine he struck. It is very common at one point that both of you spend days together figuring out correct hand signs for a new jutsu and that you perform whilst he watches and scribbles everything down on scrolls for research. You become a research partner and he acknowledges that you help his research a lot. Discussions of marriage have always been present but he stands up eventually and announces that he is going to be the one who will marry you, shutting up the discussions of who of the two brothers would suit you better. It's only logical in his mind as he knows how to properly utilise your abilities whilst someone like Hashirama would most likely only end up coddling you. As someone who always has to consider the chances of risk though, Tobirama starts working on a sealing technique that can be used against you to weaken you if a day should come where it would ever be needed. Whether that is for the safety of the village or the safety of the marriage.

Uzumaki Mito

🦊​Mito is part of a powerful clan herself and happens to be the first jinchuriki for the nine-tailed fox. She too is a woman of immense power for that just like you are. Yet she too has to consider wariness when first presented with an outsider to her village. She is a woman loyal to her duties so your sudden appearance and the powers you bring have to be carefully observed before she can determine whether you are a threat or a potential ally. She exhibits still a quiet and composed appearance even then as she is neither overly friendly nor overly hostile. She is calm. She asks questions and she answers yours too. The moment it is determined that you hold no ill will and wish to join the village though, she sees no reason to reject. After all someone as powerful as you should be an ally and not an enemy and she warns those who still hesitate that consequences would be far worse if you were to join another village and they should start a war with you by their side. The Leaf Village has strong shinobi, some of the strongest even, yet if unnecessary blood can be kept from spilling she will support for you to become part of the village and join the ranks of a shinobi.

🦊She is a constant presence in your life, though not anywhere close to being as insistent as Hashirama would be. It is quite simple really. She spoke up for you so she naturally believes that it falls in her duty to ensure that you settle in well and that her trust in you doesn't end up being misplaced. She listend calmly when you have something to tell her and she offers advice and help in the ways that she can. She isn't one to coddle you either though. With powers comes responsibilities and whilst she doesn't necessarily believes that you have to fight other villages to prove your loyalty she is of the belief that you should use your skills in some ways to help the village thrive. Perhaps a bit of a unique view as most other people would send you out where currently conflict over borders and territories arise but she receives support from Hashirama in her opinion. The choice is ultimately left up to you but Mito imagines that with a past where others mostly desired to use you as their best weapon you would appreciate using your powers in non-violent ways and still help save lives. It's this demeanor that is neither too coddling nor too harsh that has you rely on her as much as you do.

🦊Duties have always come first even before her own feelings as long as it served a greater purpose and ensured peace. Mito has known for a while already that she would end up marrying Hashirama to strengthen the alliance between her clan and the Leaf Village. For the first time though her heart and her sense of responsibility don't align. She has gotten attached to you beyond what she should have allowed herself and she suffers in ways too controlled to let it show on the outside. Mito probably doesn't even let you in on the fact that she has caught feelings, not even if she were to notice that you have similar feelings for her. Her strength lies in being subtle but powerful though so she navigates wisely and never without cracking. She keeps you close by her side as she knows that people will mistake closeness for friendship between two women and not for intimacy between two people in love with each other. Eventually she might confide to Hashirama what is going on as she still respects him as a human being and her legal husband. If anyone understands then it would be him and Mito counts on that. Her duties tie her to the village and as long she stays, you stay too.

[ryzer4242]

There's no greater experience than having an hour break in university and trying to write something. I'm sorry for not answering requests but I actually like to put more thought behind them than just simply trying to get something out there. I've wanted to do this for a while now anyways. Those are my two favorite characters from this show so I wanted to write for them.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, stalking, threats, violence, guilt-tripping, manipulation, threats, violence, death

Yandere Hc's

Wednesday Addams

𝓦What a child full of woe she is indeed. Here Wednesday is the one who has always been judging her parents for their nauseating ways of doting and loving on each other in ways that didn't feel good only to wind up the same way. Perhaps it is just a family curse which has found its way to her at last. Wednesday always thought that she would be the one who would swear all love off yet here her black heart is trying to claw its way out of its cage whenever you are around. She almost feels alive when she is around you and that is deeply disturbing in all the wrong ways. Yet she never utters a single word of it to anyone. No one must find out. This is a weakness she is not fond of and Wednesday Addams very much hates having a weak spot. Anyone else might be able to brush it off as a silly, little school crush but Wednesday knows somehow better. She doesn't just let anyone earn her loyalty and trust but those who do are usually the people she would go to great lengths for. This is so much worse though. She didn't let you in. You have wormed your way in like a parasyte. It's almost admirable how you did it without even trying but that is also where the silent torment lies.

𝓦Her stare is pretty much her signature and you find it a lot on you. Unblinking as always. You might think she is plotting murder. You're not entirely wrong. Wednesday is technically plotting. Just not murder. She's analysing. She's inspecting. She is learning. Her obsessive curiosity whenever a mystery presents itself is not exactly unknown and that principle can be very much applied to this. For someone normally so detached romance is a riddle she is now being forced to solve and understand. And Wednesday? She picks up on a lot. Little ticks and habits you do, often even without you being aware of it. She sends Thing to follow you around whenever you are gone, unwilling to take the risk of doing it herself and be spotted by you. It would be humiliating to say the least if she would let herself be reduced to some lovesick fool who clings to their subject of obsession. She cannot stop the process that has already begun unfolding. Wednesday knows that she is doomed to rot now. However, if she does she will do it as coldly and as calculating as she has always done. Control is the word to use here. She will show restraint where her parents never ever did.

𝓦You'd have better luck convincing her to cut off her own tongue and nail it on the wall than to have Wednesday ever admit that she is jealous. Jealousy is the beginning of emotional decay and she will simply not let that happen. However, it would be one big lie to claim that she is even remotely unbothered whenever you spend your time with other people. There is the death stare of hers again whenever that happens. Yes, this time it is a death stare because what she is scheming now is not nice. Others may simply say that some people are just nice to you but Wednesday doesn't believe that. She doesn't believe that niceness is sincerity. People who are nice usually always have ulterior motives. Normally she sends Thing who will then set up an accident to stop this horrible sight that has her itching to stab her own eyeballs out. In only very few situations where no other options are available will she see herself forced to pop up behind your back and stop this herself. Wednesday isn't nice. She never pretends to be. Well, you know how she is so you can expect that her sharp tongue coupled with her glare will soon scare away anyone who she categorises as an unpleasant variable.

𝓦Wednesday is morally ambiguous, to say the least. She tolerates few and she respects even less. If someone is in her way or if someone keeps important information from her she resorts to rather extreme methods to get what she wants. That is precisely what makes her so terrifying. She doesn't see people. She sees threats and if necessary she will resort to elimination. In terrifying and horrible ways as she is desensitised to violence and gore that would have normal people sick to their core. Now, she isn't a savage of course who just runs around with a gun and shoots anyone in sight. Wednesday is very much like a dagger. She is precise and cuts effectively. Fear is often the first step if there is someone who lands on her list. Warnings written in bleeding ink where she describes in vivid detail what exactly will happen if something should happen to you can do a terrific job in frightening someone and motivate them to never get close to you again. If something should happen to you though an unfortunate accident might just befall the culprit. It is best to not make things personal with Wednesday or otherwise terrible things will follow.

𝓦Wednesday requires her own privacy. She is not like her mother and father who couldn't spend even a day away from each other. Yet protective surveillance is always going to be ensured. Thing is always offering a helping hand. Her visions too provide a good way of keeping danger away from you if she should ever have one where you get in danger. Is this concerning? No, not at all. Wednesday rationalises it. She always does this. This is just to prevent anything from happening to you. Prevention is simply more effective than a cure after all. She doesn't enjoy the thought of harm coming to someone that she has silently claimed in her mind as hers and that is very much why she does the things that she does. The loss of control is always a fear of Wednesday. She would hate if something were to happen to you because deep down she would silently label it as her own failure of not having thought ahead enough. You might not understand. Maybe you will never be able to fully understand why Wednesday does the things that she does. But your own feelings will have to be put aside as Wednesday has clear priorities. Yes, she is a close friend of death. But she prefers you alive and breathing.

𝓦She considers her point of no return when the morbid poems of love begin. Initially she doesn't let anyone see them. It is her only way of expressing what she simply won't be able to express in words to anyone else, not even to you. Eventually she dares to send you a few of them. Never all of them. Only a few chosen ones. Written in elegant handwriting and tugged away in a black envelope with only your name written on it. Always tugged away in hidden spaces in your room or places where you like to spend some time alone by yourself. That is her affection. It is quiet, sometimes cold but very invasive at times. Wednesday will only openly tell you that she loves you very few times but when she does speak it, she means it. When she finds herself brooding with thoughts about you, she sometimes starts playing her cello. Her fingers move on their own and she ends up with her own melody for such times. It's in a way a song composed for you and eventually you learn what it means when the eerie melody echoes through the silence. She doesn't coddle. She never does. Wednesday offers truth far too harshly at times but if there is anything that endangers you, she will have it removed.

Tyler Galpin

☕︎Tyler I simply find fascinating to observe through the lenses of a writer for dark romance. On the outside Tyler is pretty much the perfect boyfriend package. He's sweet, he's soft-spoken, he's caring and he always considers your thoughts and opinions first. Yet there is something or someone else on the inside. A lot of suppressed rage, trauma and something monstrous, figuratively and literally speaking. In this context I simply have to label him as emotionally unstable as he and the Hyde don't speak the same language. Not at first at least. Now, Tyler is aware that with the current situation that he has going on love should really be the last thing on his mind. He has enough on his plate already, desperately trying to balance between a normalcy he craves but can never have and the control that Laurel has established over him via torture, violence and drugs which forces him to follow her commands. Perhaps this is a reminder though that despite everything he is still just a teenager who has just been handed the worst cards possible in life. A monster in the forests when Laurel orders him to be but in town a boy struggling to deal with his first love. And dear lord, does he fall fast.

☕︎It starts out as something very genuine. Tyler knows he shouldn't risk it but unfortunately the heart just wants what it wants. Whilst it looks sweet, it turns into an intense attachment over time. Tyler gets hyper-attuned to all of your emotions. If you're happy then he's floating. If you're depressed or even wind up crying he is spiraling and tries everything to fix whatever it is that is causing you to feel this way. Technically speaking there is nothing wrong with putting your partner's needs before your own. Tyler puts your needs as his first priority instead of his own though and there lies an issue that has never been fully explored even by Dr. Kinbott. The sad truth is that he is far too used to people leaving and abandoning him through no real faults of his own. Even Laurel who he genuinely believed wanted to help him for a certain time turned out to have motives that simply involved using him and now he can't even do anything about it anymore. This is the first situation where he actually has the chance to hold the wheel himself but that is what causes him to clutch it far too tightly. Tyler is controlling too. But he does it with soft words, clinginess and gentle manipulation.

☕︎It feels wrong. He wants to trust you. He does trust you. The horrible feeling is still always there in his gut though. An acidic twist in his stomach, his heart suddenly in his throat. It's overwhelming and difficult to navigate through all of the feelings that always burn within his chest. And he cannot even tell anyone about it. He doesn't want to come over as someone who is horribly jealous. What ends up happening is that Tyler attempts to outshine the rival. He buys you your favorite snacks, he brings you coffee, he compliments you a lot. All with that sweet smile on his face only mildly twinged with nervousness. Sometimes he might also let a passive-aggressive comment slip out but that's all he dares to do. Because Hyde? Hyde doesn't understand jealousy. What he does get is rage and he understands that jealousy is the emotional trigger of it. No further context is needed. It's a terrifying feeling when his heart starts pounding not with fear but with a fury Tyler can't even hold back as it isn't even fully his own. It brings forth one horrifying realisation though. And that is that Hyde starts responding to something that isn't Laurel's command.

☕︎Tyler is already a killer. Not by his own choice. But because he has been brainwashed and enslaved by Laurel who has made her own plans to ressurect Crackstone and for that has decided that Hyde is going to kill people for her. He knows what he has done when he wakes up covered in blood and is completely naked but he can't remember. Perhaps that is the last crumbling wall he has as he doesn't recall how he has done it. Until those dark instincts start to seep into his mind when he observes you. When people get too close his hands start twitching. When someone speaks wrong of you Tyler experiences tunnel vision and he swears that he starts smelling blood even though no one is bleeding. His mind gets hazy and his heart starts drumming violently within his chest, each heartbeat screaming "mine, mine, mine". Most terrifying of all is that he doesn't even realise it when he zones out. There's a pulse behind his eyes and an itching beneath his skin as something else is watching. It is eventually only a question of time until Hyde breaks out and protects and defends his territory the only way he knows how. With claws and teeth. And worst of all? That's the first time Tyler remembers.

☕︎Sometimes that thought does cross his mind though it isn't really his own. The idea to simply take you and keep you somewhere for himself where he can protect you is disturbingly tempting in some moments but simply not possible. It's not something Tyler could justify either even with those other thoughts in his head. So he never acts on it. He can't control if he acts on it in his Hyde form though as feelings and instincts heighten then. Hyde though doesn't act on them either as if begrudgingly acknowledging the not so ideal situation either. Marks of ownership are still made from both sides though. Tyler has an odd tick of keeping you for prolonged times in his rooms until his sheets smell like you. He constantly lets you wear his jackets or shirts, the sight oddly calming for him. Hyde might leave claw marks on trees on the paths you take that take you close or even through it at times. You might even notice dead animals placed deliberately on your path like sacred offerings in a language spoken by predators and monsters. One side claims you through clingy touches and the other through violent protection. The best of both worlds, innit?

☕︎The bond is for both sacred though. For Tyler you aren't just a silly crush. You are an anchor and the one person he eventually ends up orbiting around to a dangerous degree that dives into open dependency. He's almost perfect but incredibly fragile. He answers texts within seconds and if you don't respond to his within minutes the messages and calls quickly pile up because he ends up assuming the worst. He doesn't simply falls in love as much as he spirals into you and the most tragic aspect of it all might just be that he doesn't even resist it fully. And then there is Hyde. To Hyde you are neither prey nor threat. You're other. You're mate. A mate must be protected. A mate must never be let go of. A mate is sacred and to be worshipped in the most violent but reverent ways imaginable. This puts you in an incredible possession as you are even out of Laurel's touch. You are the blind spot, the one person he would never harm even if Laurel were to tell him to do so. It transcends the bond forged through pain and torture with one forged through something much more ancient and primal that rattles both boy and monster to the marrow of the bones. But it also unites them, at least in that aspect.

[ryzer4242]

Do you remember last year when I had my Tomie obsession going on and made this post? I have recently gotten back into that obsession and I have decided to expand this concept to characters who aren’t just in Anime. As recently my fixation on Soldier Boy has returned too, I have been thinking about a concept with him and a reader inspired by Tomie. For everyone who doesn't know what Tomie is, she is basically an immortal girl who triggers obsession in all men around her who end up murdering for her and eventually murder her in violent ways. But Tomie always comes back. If body parts of her get cut off a new Tomie grows from them eventually. Her only real weakness is fire as that seems to kill her permanently. Big trigger warning because this is intense.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, paranoia, jealousy, controlling behavior, isolation, violence, some hints of misogyny, abuse, sexual exploitation, harassment, sexual harassment, dub-con, non-con, Soldier Boy technically cheats on Crimson Countess, gore typical for both The Boys and Tomie, toxic, toxic and more toxic, cannibalism, body horror, dismemberment, death

Tomie-like s/o

✮A failed Vought experiment. That’s what you are. Sure, dreams of being a superhero have probably crossed everyone’s mind at least once, especially with Payback being monetised and talked about anywhere. You might be a woman yet so is Crimson Countess, a hero by all account back then in your eyes. That isn’t why you agree to that sketchy offer though. It is something much more pathetic yet deeply human. You need money. They offer it to you. That’s why you accept and agree to become their lab rat. You don’t get a lot of explanations from anyone. You’re just told to do as they say. So you do exactly that. You stay calm when you’re injected with the stuff that apparently makes anyone into a superhero. No one told you about the pain that it would cause. Your body feels like it is tearing itself apart. Bones rattle and shift, muscles tear and rebuild themself, tears of blood run down your cheeks. Yet your screams and pleas for help are ignored by the scientists who do nothing but watch you. Cold, cruel and heartless. Monsters. All of them. At least in your eyes. You don’t know how long that pain lasts. It could have been hours. It could have been only minutes.

✮ Does it matter in the end though? Whilst you are shaking and sobbing on the sterile floor, one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you up, demanding from you in an unfriendly way to walk. Rest is not an option. Tests have to be run. Don’t you want to be a hero? Don’t you want the money? His touch lingers a beat too long before he lets go. All you can do is force yourself with trembling legs down the hallway, catching your reflection in the windows. Dried blood tears cover your cheeks, giving you an eerie look more reminiscent of a ghost. It looks horrifying. Yet despite what you think, people cannot stop staring at you. The following days you’re observed closely. They want to know what powers you have. Yet you don’t feel anything. For many who were injected with Compund V, their powers came immediately. They instinctively knew what to do. But you don’t. You don’t know what to do. Anxiety quickly chews its way through all of your defenses. What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working? You expect sneers. Disappointed glares. Whispers behind your back. Yet the people are oddly friendly to you. You don’t understand the change of heart. But you accept it in that moment.

✮ With the kind words the touches follow quickly. Fingers sliding down your arms. Hands cradling your cheeks. Touching your hair without your permission. It’s disturbing and uncomfortable yet the few times you voice it, you’re given a too warm grin and are ignored. And quickly it becomes apparent that something is wrong. They stare too long with forlorn eyes that look too in love. The touches grow too intimate and they claim that it is for scientific purposes when you know it isn’t. Some even start murmuring that you’re the most beautiful woman they have ever laid eyes on. Is this the aftermath of the Vought injection. What even is that supposed to be? What kind of superpower is this? You thought you’d be able to fly or gain super strength. Not whatever this is. You start asking if you can leave. That you want to be let out. That’s when violence erupts for the first time when you’re too persistent. You’re grabbed by the throat and choked as the man in front of you screams at you, telling you that he’ll never let you go and that you’re his. When your tears hit his hands he snaps partially out of it. No comforting words can help you anymore though. You fear it’ll get even worse.

✮ You don’t have to wait for long in that cell though. Not long at all. One day a doctor opens the door and without giving you an explanation grabs you by your wrists and drags you outside. He mutters something under his breath how he won’t let anyone else have you and how you’re only his. He’s far too impulsive. He hasn’t thought it through. When the others discover the both of you, all hell breaks loose. You’re torn apart and they brutally assault him. You can only watch with horror as they beat and kick him. Screams and sickening cracks of breaking bones fill the air yet they don’t stop. Their eyes scream murder and violent grins are on their faces, making you sick to your stomach. They don’t stop even after the body has stopped shaking. They only stop once there is only a bloody pulp of flesh and bones left. Only then do they stop. Only then do they turn their attention to you. Their eyes have changed. Crazed. Unhinged. Terrifying. They start chanting that you nearly left them. That you aren't allowed to leave. That perhaps they have to remove a limb or two to guarantee that you can never run away from them. They close in on you. They hold you down. Then there is blood.

✮ Your screams aren't ignored. They're heard. They're desired. As they hold you down and start cutting into your flesh, they relish in your pain. Not because they're sadists. The emotion in their eyes tells you something different. It's like your very voice is addicting and they need to hear it scream more. Blood spills onto the floor, hands rip your clothes off and start touching you. It's all too much. Emotionally and physically. No one will help you. When one of them shoves his fingers into your mouth, your first instinct is biting. And perhaps it is the fear pulsing through your body or something else, but you cleanly tear his digit off. Suddenly his screams fill the room as he stumbles back, clutching the spot where once his index finger used to be and now nothing remains. Some ignore him. Others laugh when they see him. But you? All you can suddenly think about is the taste of blood on your tongue. It's... delicious. It's nothing like you have ever tasted. That's when your senses sharpen. You can small their blood. Hear their pulse. Hear those racing hearts of theirs which beat in ecstasy as they cut your legs off. A primal desire rises. In the next moment you launch. You don't remember much after that.

✮Once you come back to your senses, your naked and covered from head to toe in blood. Not yours. Theirs. Their corpses are scattered around you. Chests torn open, hearts no longer within them. No, they're in your stomach. You can still taste them on your tongue. Those legs that they cut off? They're clutched within the arms of one of the doctors as if they are precious enough to hold on to even in death. You don't need them anymore though. New ones have grown. Yet you still hear two heartbeats even though only death and carnage surrounds you. You instinctively know where they come from though. From your removed legs. Burn it. Immediately. All of it. It's unclear where this knowledge suddenly comes from. But you obey. Because if you leave any traces, especially those legs of yours, something horrible will happen. So you start a fire. You destroy everything and watch it all burn down from a safe distance. You don't leave until those two heartbeats have vanished. Only then do you turn your back on the place that killed and rebirthed you and walk off. You don't know where you need to go now. You don't even know what you even are now. You just know that you need to leave.

✮Only a few days later fate smiles upon you. You find a young woman late at night nervously stumbling around the empty streets. She has a similar build as you do though she is obviously not as pretty as you are. A good victim. Sure, it's not good to murder people but you need clothes and some money. You're starving too. It's almost too easy to lure her to you. She seems lost and you offer her help, trying to ignore that spark of guilt. At least you make it quick though. You crush her throat before she can scream and snap her neck in half with a strength you only recently discovered you had. As you strip her of her clothes, your attention turns to her back. Her wallet must be in there. Right you certainly are. But you also find so much more. Car keys, a hotel key and some make-up. But what you didn't expect to find was a letter. Not just any letter. A letter inviting her over to a job interview. Not just any job interview though. The letter has been signed by no one but Vought. The very company who did this to you. This woman named Mary Joanne Starkling has that job interview tomorrow. No one knows what she looks like yet. This is your chance for answers and information. Now, how to get rid of that body?

✮Luckily this Mary has everything written down in a notebook. She's remarkably structured. No wonder considering that her possible future job is that of an archivist. Structure is needed in that case. You manage to find her car as well as the address of the hotel she's staying in. You spend the night there, for the first time able to sleep in a proper bed and take a long and hot shower. You order food from the room service but don't open the doors for them. Seeing you seems to have a strange effect on people so you wait until they have left it in front of your door and are gone before you open it. Tehnically you aren't hungry as you just recently had a very meaty feast but you need to know if human food still tastes good for you. To your relief it does although you know that it most likely won't ever fulfill all your hunger anymore. That's something you will have to accept. After one amazing night in the hotel the next day you drive to the facility where you will have your job interview. You have all the needed documents. But most importantly, you have what it takes to seduce the one guy interviewing you to get him to give you the job without asking too detailed questions. You officially work for Vought now.

✮It's one year before Operation Charly where America loses its greatest hero that you meet them. Payback, and most importantly Soldier Boy. The last few months you have managed to keep your head down and avoid people as good as you can. If you do that whatever happened to those doctors doesn't seem to happen to the people around you. Most of the time you spend locked away in the archives, going through files and documents and keeping them sorted. Then you are assigned to work closer to Payback and to make sure to sort away their 'mistakes and accidents' as others call it. Initially you feel a spark of excitement. Those are America's heroes after all. In a way they are your idols too. But you also fear too much what your influence might do to them which is why you try to make yourself small when the entire team is introduced to them. There are a lot of people. You hide on purpose behind them. But somehow when you eventually look up after everything seems to be over, you find his eyes somehow on you. Soldier Boy. It startles you. It even makes your heart flutter stupidly for one moment. Then you flee and hope that he'll turn his attention to another woman.

✮Yet as if fate intends to mess with you, you bump into him the same night after hours of sorting documents. He spots you. You spot him and turn into the other direction. Only for him to call you out and quickly catch up to you, one hand on your shoulder. Touch is never good so you quickly shake his hand off. There's no choice but to turn around now. He's as handsome as you always knew he would be, a smug and attractive grin on his face as he asks you if you're new here. He doesn't remember having seen you around before and believe him, he'd remember a pretty face like you. Your answers are short and straight to the point as you try to speed up the conversation. Too much exposure is dangerous. His eyes land on your name tag and he reads the name out loud as if testing it on his tongue. Not your name. The name of the woman you have murdered. He really tries to get you to talk to him more, joking that he won't bite a pretty lady like you but you feel stressed quickly. Eventually you manage to shake him off but only after you have been forced to specifically tell him where you work and how long you work there depending on the day of the week. Even as you walk quickly away, you feel those green eyes on you.

✮You're not easy to swoon. That's how Ben views it at the very least. But by God, are you a charming one. Shy and sweet but so charming. You don't get rid of him easily after. In fact he drops by as often as he can with that infuriating smile of his. He starts calling you "sweetheart" and "doll". Nicknames that would have other girls swoon. To you it merely means that your powers are working on him and you cannot afford that to happen. For whatever reason you try to reason with him only a mere week after he has been introduced to you. Hurriedly walking through the shelves and sorting different files, reminding him that he has a girlfriend already. Not that it matters. Deep down you know that Soldier Boy doesn't care. You've heard it from others. You are seeing it yourself too. It is still such a shocking thing to hear when he walks over to you and stops right in front of you, telling you with the utmost sincerity that he doesn't give a shit about Crimson Countess. She isn't you. It would be flattering but you know better. This isn't love. It is something else. And whilst Soldier Boy so far has dealt better with it than other men, you aren't optimistic enough to believe he can resist.

✮Praline, bouquets of red roses, charming words. Soldier Boy quickly pulls out all the cards to charm you. You try to reject his presents. He doesn't let you. Initially you don't put the flowers in any vases and showcase them on your desk. He gets worked up over it quickly and confronts you. Not violently. Not yet. But he spells it out clearly that he expects you to show more appreciation for the gifts he gives to you. He doesn't just do that for every woman so show some gratitude. You never do it again afterwards, the tight grip on your chin a strong reminder that you should not test Soldier Boy of all people. It doesn't just stop there. The possessive attributes reveal their ugly heads pretty soon. He starts asking you if you talk to other people. You really don't unless they need something within the archive. Otherwise you spend your time alone. Or with him because he really doesn't care whether you want him there or not. It pleases him somewhat but he still tells you that he doesn't ever want to catch you talking to someone else for any other purpose than your job. It's a threat hidden behind a mere warning and you don't intend to test Soldier Boy.

✮The unwanted touches start to get excessive. What were for a short period of time only hands resting on your shoulders or caressing your face escalate. Whenever you attempt to put some distance between the two of you, Soldier Boy grabs you by your waist and pulls you right back to his side. He never lets you get away from him. He doesn't allow it. The kisses follow soon. Never initiated from you. Always forced from him. To you it doesn't matter that he is the most desired man by the nation. You see a dangerous man spiraling all because something was done to you and you know deep down that you won't be able to kill someone like him as easily as you have other people. You don't want to kill either because you fear the more you'll do it, the more you'll lose hold on your humanity. Those combined fears hold you down and allow Soldier Boy to pull you in for long and harsh kisses where he doesn't allow you to tear yourself away even an inch. The relationship happens because you don't dare to protest. Even if you were to speak up though, of what use would it be? Soldier Boy and Payback aren't as heroic as everyone always believes them to be. You know better by now. All of them are corrupt and selfish.

✮One late night when you're just about to finish work, he storms into your workplace. You know immediately that something is wrong. He's trembling. His breath leaves his lips in sharp and agitated huffs. Green eyes glare at you as if you have stabbed him in his back. Before you even get the chance to ask him what happened he grabs you by your wrists. It's painful and tears fill your eyes instantly. But Soldier Boy? He doesn't care. His voice is harsh as he barks at you that he told you to not talk to anyone else. Yet here Gunpowder was earlier dreamily talking about you because you helped patch up a minor wound he got. Even fucking Black Noir was daydreaming about you. Do you just like having the attention of other men on you? Are you that much of a whore? It's the first time you see Soldier Boy snap violently. All because you helped Gunpowder who is still a teenager. In the face of irrational violence you don't know what to say to defend yourself. Is there even something you could say? Perhaps not. That's why you end up being thrown to the ground harshly with Ben above you immediately, hands tearing your skirt and your blouse apart. That's the only time that night you beg. He doesn't listen.

✮He isn't gentle. He isn't nice. He's aggressive and possessive. His thrusts are brutal and fast, his body mounting yours and his hips slapping against yours until your pelvis aches. If anyone walks in they are going to get a nice view of him fucking you like an animal. Soldier Boy doesn't care. He'll murder anyone if they do. No one is allowed to look at you. No one is allowed to talk to you. And if anyone sees you naked like he does right now he will beat them until there won't be any body left to identify. He doesn't even once say that he loves you. That would imply the existence of normal love. But it doesn't. Not for you. "You're mine." That's the only thing that you get to hear from him. Almost growled in a deep and guttural tone, always spoken in sync with his brutal thrusts. You just silently take it with tears staining your cheeks. Until your orgasm hits you and you hug him as he is the only support you have, your own walls fluttering around his cock. He lets out a string of grunted curses when he cums, filling you up. Only after does he end up holding you too. You dare to call his hero name out shakily. He tells you in a softer tone that he wants you to call him "Ben" from now on. He doesn't allow many people to do that.

✮There is no turning back from that point on though. You know that. You aren't surprised either when the next day Ben informs you that you will stop working here. He has talked something out with Vought. You'll be able to move into a nice house with him. That's not the life you want. Truthfully speaking, you don't know what you want anymore. But it isn't this. However, you have seen Gunpowder and what Ben has done to him. You have seen Black Noir limp. You have seen the bruises on Crimson Countess after she apparently vented out bitterly about you as it has been obvious for a while now that Ben is cheating on her with you. Violence has always been the way to solve problems for Ben but he is using it increasingly often when someone does as much as use the fake name of yours. So you agree. To protect others and to protect yourself as good as possible. It pleases Ben to see you accept so quickly. You simply draw too much attention. He notices people staring at you when you pass by. You are a woman easily desired. But you are his. And he will never let anyone oogle at his woman. Not if they want their face punched in that is. That happened a few times but Vought always covers it up.

✮For a while things always appear to be normal. You move into a house provided by Vought. It's nice and cozy and you are provided with everything that you need. But you are forbidden to leave the estate. Rules that you obey by. You clean, you cook and you tend to the gardens. You are lonely and that's for the best but you almost feel somewhat normal again now that there are no other people around to remind you that you aren't ordinary anymore. Ben adores it. You're like his shy and sweet housewife whenever he returns. It feeds very much into his belief that this is how things are just naturally meant to be. Him as the strong husband and provider and you as his docile wife. He doesn't know that you're a Supe though. He believes that you are a normal citizen whose life will be shorter than his. That's why he ends up stealing a few doses of Compound V to inject them into you so that you won't age faster than he does. He tries to inject that stuff into your veins. You don't know what another injection will do to you and manage to convince him to wait for a bit longer. It's the only time he listens to you. But it is going to happen soon. He will not have you die on him that easily.

✮It's shortly before Operation Charly that Ben proposes. He's gotten some nice wine and bought some nice steak and dessert. You still end up preparing and cooking it for him as that is a woman's job but he has gotten it for you. It's the most textbook proposal. He goes down on one knee and presents you with a small box containing a golden ring embedded with a green gem. It fits his eye colour. You wonder if that was intentional or not. However, he doesn't ask you to marry him. No, he says: "Marry me." It's a lenient warning that you know will turn into a demand if you deny or hesitate. So all you can really do is accept. It's genuinely the happiest you have seen Ben. He lifts you up in his arms, he showers you in kisses and he has a sincere smile on his face. You're used to possession and obsession. Not to that happiness. Especially not from someone like Ben. It's a memory that sticks with you and that perhaps for the smallest moment has you hoping that you can elicit more than just infatuated obsession out of people. Be more than just an object of carnal desire. Thinking back on it later, you really were a naive thing back in the days. One cannot escape their fate after all.

✮Ben never returns from that mission. His own team turns on him and attacks him. Sick and tired of his abuse that has only increased since he got together with you. Black Noir specifically targets him, provokes Ben by telling him that as soon as he is gone he will take his space and become your new lover. That's when Ben goes for him specifically. Targets him. Beats him up. Leaves him with a ruined face and permanent brain damage which will never allow Black Noir to ever speak again or show his face again. Forever doomed to wear a mask. Ultimately he ends up being overpowered and is handed over to the Russians. Never once does he forget about you though. Even as he is put through hell on earth and is used as a lab rat, his thoughts stay on you. Time doesn't really tick by as much as it warps during the centuries. Ben doesn't know how long he is stuck in different labs with needles and syringes, unable to die but able to feel the pain of it all. Until one day he is freed. He doesn't recognise who those people are. He doesn't even bother listening. He merely lashes out before he runs away. There are two things on his mind. Revenge on his former team and to get back to you.

✮He seeks out The Legend to retrieve some of his belongings as well as information. However, what The Legend tells him Ben refuses to believe at first. When he specifically demands information about Mary Joanne Starkling he receives a file of that person. Only that the picture of the woman is not you. He barely holds back his anger, grabs the other man by the collar. He's not in the mood for little games. Only that The Legend tells him that he isn't joking. This woman there is Mary. She was last seen by her family before making her way to a job interview. Only that by now they know that Mary never arrived. It was you who arrived at the job interview and you who received the job. Your real name is unknown. In fact nothing about you is known. The only thing that is known for sure is that you are a Supe and that you most likely were already one when Ben met you for the first time. No one has seen you though for decades. The last time you were seen was shortly after his supposed death when some agents of Vought came to inform you about it. They were found a few days later dead in the house. Chests torn open. Hearts missing. No traces of you whatsoever.

✮The Legend gives it straight to Ben. He was in love with a lie. An illusion. It could very well be that you never truly loved him. Ben very nearly breaks his neck but ultimately refrains from it. He has already been betrayed by his own fucking team. If his own fiancée turns out to have turned her back on him as well, he doesn't know what he will end up doing. Because he loves you. You're the only thing that kept him sane whilst those people in Russia poked around his body to find weak spots ans pump him full of something that essentially turned him into a ticking time bomb. He hasn't treated you badly. At least not in his mind. Yes, he has made you cry a few times but you were just way too sensitive back then and he made it more than up to you every time. All he wants is to have is future-wife back. Yet you have vanished as if you were never real. Do you seriously think that it'll be that easy? He thought he could just return and things would go back to how he always wanted them to be. But if he has to hunt you down, he will do that. He will find you. He will have you tell him the truth even if he has to get a bit rough. And he will remind you that first and foremost you are his. A woman is nothing without her man.

[ryzer4242]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, kinky, panty fetish...

♡ FEM reader

Weird, weird, weird pervert who’s got you pinned like in some strange wrestling move. Skirt lifted over your belly with your cunt tipped up to his face.

He’s got his tongue poking into the fabric of your panties. Spitting on the pink fabric, making it turn dark. Eyes big and steal-gazing to how it starts to cling to the outline of your cunt—making his cheeks rouge. 

He doesn’t peel it to the side, put traces your slit with his fingers, rubbing you through the wet layer, soaking it with more of his tongue until it’s drenched all over and all the way through, making your own self get sticky beneath it. 

Finding your hole, he pokes the lace inside it. Fucking it into you, breath shuddering while watching it disappear, getting swallowd and sucked inside. 

When he pulls it out again, he puts his mouth back on you—sucking the fabric dry of his spit and your taste. 

He keeps it up until you cum. 

The crotch of your panties stretched out and thin, looking like a frayed rope, barely covering anything anymore. 

That’s when he grips it and pulls it, elastic strings snapping until it rips apart at both your hips. 

He then bags them and runs off like a thief in the night.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shigaraki, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta, Choso, Higuruma ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ WB – Sakura

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ryzer4242]

hi!! I love your dmc x reader series :3

can I request for the guys x a gn reader who's into pet play?

As someone who loves to be pet and nuzzles people and likes to cuddle and be babied, this made me happy. ^^

Pairings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, & V x Reader

Disclaimer: Pet play, especially to the extent shown in this fic, may not be for everyone and requires a lot of connection and consent between participants. Have fun with this story but also be sure to stay safe IRL!

Trigger Warnings: bdsm, mentions of past trauma from enslavement

Naughty Boys~ (DMC Boys Pet Play)

Dante

Oh boy was he excited.

Dante went about it casually, like it was all a fun game.

He would break character sometimes, and when you did, he wouldn’t complain.

He didn’t need fancy equipment, though he would not be against it if you offered it.

He took to the game right away. The first time you tell him “down boy”, he squats down, lifts his arms and droops his hands, and woofs for you with a big, amused smile.

Sometimes he would do it or want you to do it, not for sex, but just to mess around. You could be doing some chore, and he will walk up behind you and start petting you and saying in an exaggerated cutesy voice, “Who’s a good pet? You are, yes you are~”.

In general, though, he prefers to play the pet.

This grown ass man will flop on his back over your lap as a request for tummy rubs.

He will turn to mush if you give his shaggy hair a good scratch.

He likes rubbing up on you, whether he is nuzzling into the crook of your neck, scratching you with his stubble, or grinding against you so you can feel how hard he is already.

When it comes to sex, he is happy to switch. He’ll grab the chain attached to your collar and use it to make your back arch so he can kiss you while he fucks into you. But if you want him to be submissive he will lay down face first, raise his bare ass, and gladly wag his tail for you.

He isn’t really interested in humiliation, aside from a little teasing around friends, and severe punishments are hard for him to dish out. He can take a beating, though.

What he enjoys about pet play is the comfort and trust connected to it. Being trusted by and trusting in you felt good, safe, comforting, things he had not felt most of his life.

Reboot Dante

When the idea of pet play first comes up, Dante immediately thinks of the extreme side of roleplay. He remembers seeing rich people in BDSM clubs with men and/or women in full bodysuits crawling around them, held close by chains, refusing to brake character and acting like horny slaves willing to be someone’s footrest.

He refuses to do that shit. He isn’t one to listen to authority, and having someone act pathetic is not attractive to him.

You’ll have to ease him in with cat/dog ear headbands and sexy bunny suits.

Over time, he starts relaxing and plays around with the idea a bit.

One activity he enjoys is spraying you with water when you have “been bad”, which is pretty much whenever you wear this, light clothing that clings to or reveals your skin if wet.

He also starts getting a bit into the BDSM side of things, mainly collars, leashes, and handcuffs. Despite being a guy always seeming in control, too cool to be held back, he likes the struggle.

He’ll tell you to “fuck off with that shit” if you try to bring it up outside of your home, and even sometimes in your home, but you calling him a bad boy while yanking on the collar around his neck, choaking him a bit, and smack him with your hand or a riding crop gets him going.

It turns him on being punished a bit and seeing you in a dominant role, and it makes things even more exciting when, despite your attempts to control him, he becomes feral and takes what he wants.

Vergil

Initially, he is hesitant. The idea of you or him being chained and ordered around brings back memories of torture and enchanted armour being fused onto his skin.

You will need some patience, but you can ease him into it with actions like nuzzling him, purring, growling, and acting a bit more needy.

The largest hurdle is him using physical restraints on you. A collar with a tag marking you as his is fine, though a bit uncomfortable, but putting a leash on it makes his stomach churn. Muzzles, especially those that restrict your speaking and breathing, are out of the question.

His comfort level ends up being the simpler side of pet play, like fake ears, tail butt plugs, and you making noises relevant to your preferred animal.

Vergil refuses to play the part of the pet. It is beneath him and humiliating. No, he will never serve under another again.

If you try to force it, such as trying to act dominant or stealthily latching a collar or ears onto him while he sleeps, he will see it as a challenge.

He will assert power over the situation and easily break out of whatever restrains you try to put on him.

If he is in a particular mood, though, he will become a beast.

Reboot Vergil

He is a bit shocked at first, considering you were both working towards freeing humans from being slaves to demons, but the part of him that intended to rule alongside his brother enjoyed it. He’ll put up the facade of hesitating, but he quickly gets into it.

With his wealth and access to black markets, he will get you the most extravagant and detailed equipment. Muzzles, body suits, moving electronic tails and ears, whatever you desire to be his perfect pet. He will also spare no expense on your “playroom”. Whether you want a human-sized cat tree, a cage, or a tank to swim around in, he will do it.

And in return, he expects you to be a loyal, obedient, devoted pet.

He wants you to worship him and his body. Lick his boot, beg for his cock, present your body because it belongs to him now.

Alternatively, you being the master and him being a pet… he isn’t as interested in that. He will try though, for you.

He is a bit hesitant in the role. When you tell him “down” for the first time, he only sinks to his knees. When you tell him to speak for the first time, he speaks in English. When you clarify that you want him to speak like a pet, he says the word “bark”. He does not actually bark, just says the word in a confused tone.

It takes a bit for you to teach him how to be a good pet and for him to let go of his proper and professional attitude.

Truthfully, he is not a fan of being fully animalistic. Crawling around, speaking only in sounds, playing games like fetch, these were things he only did when you asked for it, otherwise, he avoided them.

He preferred to be more like a bodyguard or butler. He likes greeting you when you get home, serving your needs until you come undone under him and he can take control as the alpha.

This roleplay has also opened his eyes to a new kink for him, biting.

Nero

Nero, like most new things, bristles at the idea initially. He struggles to be honest with himself and his desires.

You will have to kind of trick him into it, acting like you are desperate to try, so he has an excuse to do it but “not be happy about it”.

If asked to be the master, he will cooperate and try his best, but it isn’t really to his taste. He does not have a lot of patience, and when he is in control, he rarely is able to keep the foreplay going. He gets that you might want to act cute, get ordered around, prance or bark or whatever, but he is so horny that he can’t take it.

Everything changes, though, when he gets put in a cage.

You in a cage doesn’t change much as, again, he gets impatient to feel your body, so he rips the door open after only a few minutes, if you're lucky at least.

Him in a cage, though, that was different. His desperation to touch you is still there, but now he can’t get to you unless you allow it, leaving him a begging, needy mess.

“Please baby, let me out, let me touch you. I need you. I’ll be good, I promise.”

He follows as closely as he can to you when you walk around the cage.

He will take anything. Telling him to play with himself, making him reach through the bars to feel your scorching folds, pressing his open mouth against the cage bars so you can slide your prick into him, he’ll do it.

And the longer you make him wait, the more whiny and desperate he gets.

If you push him enough, usually by leaving the room while he is trapped in the cage, you can get him to this distressed point of crying while fucking you like he was a starving man and all he needed to live was your body against his.

It may seem cruel, and Nero is quite exhausted after a night like that, but a couple weeks later, he is hinting that he wants to be put back in his cage.

V

V is willing to try anything, to explore the many facets of love, passion, and pleasure.

He would rather you start so you can demonstrate what exactly makes your heart sing. If you have no specifics in mind, or are too shy to divulge, he does not mind starting the journey and adjusting the path in whatever way your and his pleasure leads.

He ends up preferring the more performative side of the roleplay.

He makes up a persona for himself, picking not just an animal but the specific breed and preferences as the animal. He would enjoy it if you did the same.

For him, he sees himself as a Friesian stallion, black, thin, long mane that partly covers his eyes, rare and nearly extinct. He thinks it fits him quite well.

He is willing to play other roles if you really want him to, though the typical cat and dog roles were not to his liking, as it reminded him too much of Shadow.

As a stallion, specifically for shows as he likes to imagine, he enjoys being cared for. Having his hair brushed is his favourite, while more sensual activities like being bathed by you and trained were in a league of their own.

As for accessories, he finds blinders (which were just a blindfold for the sake of your play) to be an exhilarating way to keep the submissive half on edge and overly sensitive to every little sound and touch. 

Having a bit strapped on was also an item that, though not always present, added intensity to the lovemaking.

Then there was the horse crop that, though it had to be used sparingly as he had a generally weak disposition, always had him quivering.

When he is the master, he treats you much the same as he would like to be treated.

He wants to pamper you, groom you, teach you tricks,

And if you misbehave, he has plenty of devilishly alluring ways to make you submit.

[ryzer4242]

Hi!!!! Could you please write something vergil/reader where the reader comforts vergil? It can be comfort to fluff. I barely see any vergil fanfics and most of them are either smut or angst 😭

I would really appreciate it, have a nice day!

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

This one was challenging because I don’t like writing about what the reader says or does in detail, as it can lead to readers feeling like, “I wouldn’t say/do that.” Therefore, this became a lot more introspective. Sorry if that is not what you wanted.

Also, I assumed you meant OG Vergil because usually when someone wants Reboot, they will specify that. I am making Reboot Vergil comfort headcanons soon for another person so look out for that if I fucked up on the Vergil too.

Comforting a Broken Man

Though it was sad, it was not surprising to anyone when they noticed that Vergil had disappeared from the backyard barbecue party. Being his lover, Dante asked you to go check on his brother, even if the others at the party jokingly declared that the stick in his ass made it impossible for Vergil to hang out for long. Like a routine, you entered Devil May Cry, ascended the stairs, and knocked on Vergil’s bedroom door to check on him.

When the quiet of his room was broken by even a simple knock, Vergil’s hand snapped to his blade and his heightened senses searched for signs of what demon was there to fight. Quickly, though, he picked up on your familiar power and scent, and his tense body was able to relax back into the bay window bench.

“You of all people need not knock,” Vergil told you, which was his signal that you could enter. Despite saying this, he knew exactly why you knocked; he had just proved your unspoken reason, and he hated it. He hated that he reacted this way, that his first instinct was that everything was out to kill him, and he hated how you knew of his weakness. “What are you doing here? You should be out there with the others.” Vergil’s gaze turned back to the large windows overlooking the backyard where his… where people were having a pleasant gathering. “You should be enjoying the sun and conversation with the others.” Vergil could not bring himself to call them friends and family; he didn’t deserve that. Just as he did not deserve your kind words and gentle approach. Even when you were trying to get closer, he unconsciously shifted his body to plant one foot on the bench, putting a barrier between you and him. Most would probably see this and assume he was showing his dislike, but you seemed to see the fear in the action, which made Vergil love you more.

You sat down, letting Vergil’s bent leg stand between you two, not trying to break down the walls around his heart but waiting patiently for them to fall on their own. You stayed by his side and talked casually about the party, the others, what you had been up to, what was on his mind, and it all felt… strange to Vergil. Initially, his mind brushed off the useless chatter as there were more important things to do and think about. That line of thought only lasted a few seconds, though; a new personal record that he had found shrinking ever since getting trapped in the underworld with his brother for that short time after cutting down the Qliphoth’s roots. You had expedited this process by simply speaking with him. It should be boring, useless bramble that did not affect the world at large of either of your goals, so why was he listening intently to your explanation of the funny and annoying events in your life? Why were his lips twisting up into a gentle smile? Why was he engaging in conversation? Why was his foot coming off the bench? Why did a small part of him want to cry?

“Is this what they call ‘domestication’?” Vergil suddenly asked, interrupting your quiet cuddles. You had moved and shifted closer to him until you were pressed against him without invitation or Vergil noticing, just like you always do. Even though you were lounging across the bench, making your head come to Vergil’s chest, Vergil was not a cushion being leaned on. It was more like he was curled around you, his arms around your middle, his legs tangled with yours, and his head resting on yours. It was comforting, like when he would hug plush animals in his childhood, a sensation he had been craving for longer than he had experienced. When you tilt your head to look up at him, making him raise his head, and he sees your calm expression, a smile with no hidden pain or malice, that tear finally crept up.

Quickly, Vergil swooped down to capture your lips, with both reasons of needing affection and hiding the tear being equally as shameful to him. Despite his pride actively crumbling, Vergil could not stop the small sigh that bordered on a whimper escaping his lips through the kiss or how he pulled you closer so he could bury his face in your neck after. His grip got tighter, almost a bit painful, as he clung to you.

The sound of a ball thunking against the bay window broke the intimate bubble surrounding you two, making Vergil reach for Yamato again. Looking back out over the yard, you and Vergil saw Dante looking up at you two and waving a few skewers.

“Yo!” Dante shouted, though it was muffled because the window was closed. Shifting his body, but also refusing to let you go, Vergil was able to open one of the windows.

“You have enough debt as it is, brother, don’t go breaking your already decrepit house.”

Dante scoffs. “I wanted to offer you some food so you don’t wither away. I made those skewers you liked when we were kids.”

“Did you burn them like when we were kids as well?” Vergil teased, though with how close you were pressed up against him, you could see how his smile grew a bit in response to Dante’s memory and effort.

“At least I didn’t serve raw chicken.” Dante shot back before turning to Nero, who was currently playfully arguing with Nico about something. As they had a quick chat, you could feel Vergil tense up, afraid. Not of Nero’s strength, though. Your touch and kind words helped ease the strain, even when Nero grabbed the skewers, sprouted his spectral wings, and flew up to the open window.

“Here, special delivery,” Nero said, trying to sound casual, but there was strain in his voice.

“Thank you,” was all Vergil could say as he accepted the skewers, feeling unable and unworthy to say more. The thickness of the air felt like it was filling his lungs, drowning him in thoughts and memories. Before he could dive too deep, though, he felt you nudge him. He glanced down at you, and all you had to do was make a couple of motions for him to get what you were suggesting. It took another moment of looking into your loving, determined, and reassuring eyes for him to gain the courage to actually do it. “Would you like one, Nero?” Vergil handed you one quickly, then offered one back out of the window towards Nero, who was still hovering. “It is one of my favourites since childhood.” Vergil’s hand was shaking slightly, but Nero did not notice or just didn’t comment. Instead, Nero gave a little smile and took it.

“Um… sure, thanks.” There was another awkward pause, though this time it was filled by Nero. “I, uh, didn’t take you for a skewer guy. What’s so good about these?”

It was awkward and tense, but it was the start of one of the longest casual conversations Nero and Vergil ever had, and Vergil was only able to get through it because you were there with him.

[ryzer4242]

Yandere Shapeshifter x Reader

AN: I spent the last couple of days going through my drafts. I've fully edited about five of them :D

In the soft glow of twilight, the city looked like it was bleeding light—orange pooling in cracked asphalt, violet bruises swelling against brick walls. The air was thick with late summer heat, pressing against skin like a too-familiar hand. You walked home through the half-lit streets with your shoulders hunched, steps fast and decisive. You didn’t notice the man watching you from the other side of the road. He was tall, with broad shoulders and an indistinct face, half-shadowed beneath the flickering streetlight. He smiled when you passed, though you never saw it.

He’d worn another face yesterday. The barista. The one with the soft brown eyes and lopsided smile, who remembered your order even though you'd never given it more than twice. Before that, he was the man who bumped into you at the library. The girl in your dance class. The old woman on the bus who gripped your wrist too tightly when you offered her your seat. He was no one. He was everyone.

And he loved you.

You were beautiful. Not in the loud, obvious way others were—he hated those kinds of people. Their beauty was showy, performative. Yours was quiet, haunting. Something that sank under his skin and made him ache. You were all softness and edges, warmth and distance, always just out of reach, and it drove him insane.

He didn’t have a name anymore. He’d given it up long ago. Names tied you down, anchored you to one life. He didn’t want that. All he wanted was to be what you needed. Whoever you wanted. Whoever you would let in.

It started small. He made friends with your friends. Slipped into their lives with gentle lies and careful mimicry. He watched the way they spoke to you, the words they used, the nicknames they called you. He repeated them to himself like scripture. He became your classmate, your coworker, the stranger who handed you your dropped wallet and brushed his fingers a little too long against yours.

And you smiled. Just a little. Just enough to make his heart stutter.

He was careful. He could wait. He could change. He had changed so many times already.

You never saw his real form. No one did. Sometimes he forgot it himself. He remembered dark skin, an empty mouth, too many eyes. A body that bent in impossible ways. But he didn’t need that. Not when he could be perfect for you.

You had a crush on your neighbor once—he saw it in the way you lingered at your door, the way your voice softened when you greeted the man across the hall. So he killed him.

Not messily. Not dramatically. A little poison in his tea, a body that disappeared. Then, a week later, the same face moved back in. You never suspected a thing. The new version of your neighbor smiled more, cooked better. Helped carry your groceries.

You were grateful.

And he was patient.

But you didn’t fall for him.

It hurt. You saw him every day, and still your eyes wandered. Still you touched other people, confided in other people. He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t he enough?

One night, he watched you kiss someone else. A gentle kiss, soft and sweet, given to someone who didn’t know you like he did. He watched from the other side of the street, fingers curling into claws he didn’t know he still had. His form flickered—skin bubbling, bones cracking beneath a mask of flesh—and he had to press himself against the wall to keep from changing right then and there.

He killed that person too. Quietly. Efficiently.

The next day, he wore their face.

He touched you the same way, said the same things, but sweeter. Better. More attentive. When you looked confused, he lied. Said he was tired yesterday. Said he wasn’t himself.

He meant it.

And finally, finally, you started to fall. You let him hold you. Let him inside. You cried into his chest one night when things became too much. He held you so tightly he thought he might break your ribs. He wanted to bury himself in your skin. Crawl beneath it. Become you.

But there was still something wrong. He could feel it. Your eyes wandered. You dreamed of people he hadn’t killed yet. You talked about places you wanted to go—places he couldn’t follow. And worse: you talked about being alone.

“You ever think about just... disappearing?” you asked him once, as you lay together in the quiet, your head on his chest. “Going somewhere no one knows you? Starting over?”

He went still beneath you.

“No,” he said softly. “I only want to be where you are.”

You laughed. Not unkindly. But like you didn’t know what you were saying. Like you didn’t know him.

He had to fix it. Had to make you see.

So he started showing up again in other forms. The coworker. The friend. The stranger on the bus. All of them saying the same thing: how wonderful he was. How lucky you were to have him. He wove stories around you like a cocoon. Made it so that no matter where you turned, someone was gently reminding you that this was love. That he was good for you.

You started to believe it. You started to stay.

And still, still it wasn’t enough.

So he showed you a piece of himself. Not all. Just a sliver. One night, when the moon was full and you looked particularly sad, he let his arm shift—just a little. Just enough that you saw his skin shimmer, saw the suggestion of something not quite human beneath.

You recoiled. He didn’t blame you.

“I didn’t want to lie to you,” he whispered. “But I needed you to love me first.”

You didn’t speak to him for days.

It shattered him.

In your absence, he unraveled. Took a thousand forms in the mirror, screaming in voices not his own. The walls of his apartment became a collage of your photos. He slept in your old clothes, curled into your scent like a feral thing. He wore your face and kissed his reflection. He whispered your name into the mouths of strangers he consumed.

When you finally came back—shaking, scared, but curious—he wept.

“I don’t care what you are,” you told him, voice cracking. “Just stop lying to me.”

He swore he would. He swore on whatever name he used to have.

He showed you then. All of it. The writhing truth beneath the masks. The shifting, bleeding, endless change. He thought you might scream. You didn’t. You just cried.

And then you kissed him.

And for a moment, he believed you meant it.

But you didn’t. Not really. You were scared. You were trying to survive.

He could tell.

So now he watches you sleep. Watches the way your mouth twitches in dreams, the way your fingers curl like you’re holding onto something. He wonders if it’s him. He wonders what he has to be for you to love him fully.

He’ll find it. He’ll become it. Whether it’s the friend, the lover, the monster, the god. He’ll wear every face in the world if it means you’ll look at him like you mean it.

He’ll never let you go.

After all…

He’s whoever you want him to be.

Forever.

Masterlist

[ryzer4242]

thinking about a darling with a yandere! crush.

you’ve never seen him before but you’ve heard of him. the weird kid, who nobody likes, who lingers near the back. he skips lectures, takes smoke breaks outside and had a decent reputation before he fucked it all over for himself.

seeing him for the first time was like a breath of fresh air if anything. staring into his intense eyes and practically simpering before realising that he was staring too.

there was something about his eyes that you found so intense. it seemed as though he’d lost all care in the world, and therefore found no reason to look away. he looked at you with eyes filled with judgement, and yet with feelings that you couldn’t decipher.

it became a common occurrence. you’d follow him around out of what you told yourself to be boredom, and he’d tear his eyes away from whatever he was doing to gaze back. there’d be times he’d be occupied with something and you’d have a moment without the tension before he suddenly paused his movements and tilted his head to stare at you for a moment, before looking away.

you don’t plan to speak to him, and it seems the same thought applies to him to him. he’d certainly have heard you speaking before, perhaps ranting to a friend or complaining about something, but it seemed he barely spoke. the most you’d said to him would have to have been a meek ‘sorry’ during a time he’d bumped into you, and you could practically feel him pressed up against you before you moved away.

the two of you will be content with just watching. <3

[ryzer4242]

thinking of a yandere! perfectionist who aims his affection towards somebody who doesn’t like him.

in your eyes, he’s too ideal. there’s something so uncanny about him that unnerves you, something too pleasing about his face that when you gaze at him for too long it becomes irritating. he always seems to uphold a pleasing smile when he’s speaking to someone, but you’ve noticed the way that he recoils sometimes when people approach him before brushing it off, or the small cringe he does by twitching his nose when certain people address him.

there’s something so sickly about him.

he’s spent his whole life being adored by the people around him. to suddenly meet someone like you, who isn’t impressed by charms or the airs of nonsense he puts around himself? it’s refreshing.

he doesn’t mind if you stare at him with hatred. he’ll smile back, and this time it’ll be a little bit less forced. the day it’ll finally be at ease, with a pleasant sincerity, is the day that you smile back.