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#cw yandere
gojoath · 3 days
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ OVERTIME, OKKOTSU YŪTA
you’re finally being trusted with your first trainee since you moved to the sales department. although you think yūta might be…. a bit of a special case.
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summary. office au. fem reader. office trainee yūta. yandere yūta. mentor reader. inappropriate work relationships. aged up characters. dubcon. noncon masturbation (while you’re asleep) but you wake up. handjobs. exhibitonism since it’s in the office but you’re alone. mentor / trainee. obsession. manipulation. yūta is a perv. wc, 3.5k.
note. this is 100% inspired by tonari no seki no hen na senpai (user kxhyuns, you did this) but also by those anons who mentioned intern!yūta + office worker yūta. i could not get this out of my head. new au alert, somebody sedate me ❤︎
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it had caught you off guard at first, the prospect of being the mentor rather than the trainee when your boss had taken you in to discuss the new opportunity. it is true, it’s been almost a year since you joined the sales department, you’d become accustomed to the office and the way it works, your colleagues and the way things are done here.
it would make sense for your next step to be something like this, the opportunity to finally break free from your newbie shackles and put your new found knowledge to the test.
you had an image in your mind of how it would go, much like anyone else would have aswell; your new trainee becoming employee of the month almost immediately under your guidance, the way you’d be praised as the newest mentor with the hottest stuff. you even had even the office coffee rounds down to a science at this point, passing over the torch to somebody new couldn’t be too much work, especially once you get the hang of it.
you were eager for the challenge… you were, but it seems your trainee, okkotsu yuuta, was a… special sort case.
it’s friday and he’s been here two months already. but honestly you’re surprised as to how he even got the job in the first place given his.. personality, you think to yourself as you watch the dark haired intern fumble with the documents that you had so neatly handed to him. it’s only a matter of time before he drops them, before they lose their order and scatter across the office and he’ll panic as he moves to pick them up, apologising repeatedly.
you feel a little bad for him honestly, you even feel bad for thinking something so cruel about yuuta because he was sweet once you got past the fumbling, sort of awkward exterior. not that he changed much when you peeled it back but he was observant, almost cute when he wanted to be. although he wasn’t any good at the actual job, he seemed to be good at certain.. things when he put his mind to it and he was still new, he’d only been here barely two months.
for example, he had no trouble memorising your coffee order but when it comes to everyone else’s, you’re pretty sure he’s yet to get a perfect round since he started. he’d replace your favourite snacks and stationary, repair your keyboard or computer if need be, he’d even went out of his way to make you a few homemade erasers in his free time. he doesn’t have any problems coming to you for help but maybe that’s because the gloomy, sort of unsettling aura that radiates out of him seems to scare his other coworkers away. not that he was even that great at talking to other people, the conversations you’d seen in passing were always gruellingly awkward and uncomfortable, normally cut short by the other party as they inch themselves further away from your poor, new coworker.
you’re pretty sure yuuta means well, hes just maybe not the sociable, quick learning trainee you expected would be attracted to the sales department— maybe your expectations are just a little too high. you sigh as you let your head fall forward slightly, palm resting against your forehead before your thought process is disrupted by the very guy in question as his chilling presence looms behind you. he had a bad habit of accidentally sneaking up on you and some eerily quiet footsteps to go along with it.
“is everything okay?” he asks softly and the call urges you to turn to give him a look over your shoulder as you take him in. his dark hair is brushed back into a relaxed sort of style as it normally is and his shirt is untucked. pale skin and nervous fingertips squeezing the documents in his hand to the point of creasing them, but he looks almost concerned as he looks back.
there was something cute about yuuta, you think— albeit, there was something.. off about him too. his eyes, maybe; the chilling, haunting sort of blue that you found to always be on you whenever you’d find them in the room. he was never far and he was always watching, almost expressionless and blank. his gaze is only deepened by the dark circles that line his under eyes, he doesn’t look like he sleeps much at all.. and he’s only just started working here. “i’m fine.”
but he was still simply just your intern and you, his mentor.
“oh, i—i got these like you asked, sorry.. i crumpled them a little bit. is that okay?” the tips of his ears flush slightly as he hands you the documents and you sigh contently as you offer them a glance, shuffling between them in your hands gently.
“no, they’re fine, don’t worry. you’re getting better.”
“r-really? do you think so.”
“mhm.”
the praise only seems to make yuuta burn brighter as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, pulling at the fabric as you sort the documents away into the necessary folder on your desk. his hand brushes through his hair as he watches you, like he’s hypnotised by your movements, the way your hands move, the gentleness in which you handle your work.
“it’s because i’ve got a great mentor. i wouldn’t be able to do it without you.” his voice sounds closer than it was but you don’t realise he’s standing over you until you go to turn to face him in your chair again, your knees knocking softly against his legs although he makes no attempt to move.
you offer yuuta a look as he leans closer, he’s always had a thing about personal space, albeit yours more than anyone else’s considering how he always seems to avoid others completely. but he has no issue being close to you as you go to turn towards your desk again. “you don’t need to flatter me, okkotsu.”
“but.. but it’s true, you’re so amazing and..” he stops you before you can turn away completely, his hand pressing onto the back of your seat as he swallows, almost nervously, before he continues. “you’re really pretty too.” you almost shudder at the compliment as you turn to face him again, he’s already looking at you and it’s almost an instinctive reaction the way your brows furrow. what’s that got to do with anything?
“ah, sorry— is that weird to say? i just wanted to praise you, hah..” part of you wants to say it is a little weird.. it’s inappropriate, you were co-workers after all but the way yuuta apologises is.. cute. he’s flushed and speaking softly and you know that he probably doesn’t mean any harm by it when his next look is a gentle, kind-hearted blink accompanied with a shy smile. maybe you’re just thinking too much into this, he’s never showed any red flags and he’s not bothersome— maybe cut the guy some slack.
so you do, by switching the topic, it could be annoying if the rest of the office get wind of this and rumours begin to spread. “anyway, i’m probably gonna stay a little later tonight to finish all of this up, but you’re free to go.”
you were used to the overtime afterall,
“ah but it’s the weekend, don’t you have any plans? like.. with a boyfriend or a lover or something, maybe?” yuuta’s words are almost hesitant when he asks but the way he holds your gaze is almost unsettlingly unwavering. it’s just an innocent question, right? he’s just concerned that you could be working yourself too hard and he probably just wants to make sure you have a good work - life balance.
“no i dont, i don’t have a boyfriend.” you smile and he mirrors the expression albeit… relieved, sinisterly almost.
“oh.. that’s good,” yuuta sighs as he scratches at the back of his neck before he realises exactly what he’s said and continues, flushing almost down to his chest as it disappears under the collar of his shirt “i mean uh— it’s good you don’t have plans. me neither.”
you do find him adorable despite how awkward he could be, every little thing you said to him would make him flush and fidget. even now he’s fidgeting with his hands as you both share glances with eachother. “if you want, i can stay too. it would probably be faster with two of us.”
his question is sweet really, but the work you have left to do won’t take you long and it would be unnecessary for yuuta to hang around. you much preferred the silence of working overtime alone anyway considering how roudy the office could be otherwise.. and the fact you never really got any alone time considering how your dark-haired coworker tends to follow you around like a puppy at your heels everyday.
“you don’t need to do that, you already do enough of my work as is and you’re still learning, i don’t expect you to—“ it’s true that you were aware of the workload yuuta took from you, he’d only been here two months but still you noticed that he’d sometimes start on your data after finishing his own that you’d given him. even with his limited knowledge, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t helpful, although he already has enough to do.. and you’ve scolded him for it already.
“i want to. i want to stay with you.” yuuta’s words don’t waver this time, like he’s been struck by a sudden confidence that makes your eyes widen. there’s a sort of look in his eyes that seems to hold you there and you’re suddenly aware of the way he almost curls over you from where you’re sitting. the look in his eyes almost drowns out the others around you completely as you feel goosebumps burst along your neck.
but still, you shake them off— he does have a point of it being faster with two people and it seems given how you’re feeling, getting home sooner rather than later to rest would do you good. “ooookay then sure, i guess the company would be nice, okkotsu.”
“do you want me to make you coffee? i know how you like it.” yuuta’s question follows the almost dramatic yawn from you as you lean back to stretch at your desk chair. he’s sat next to you, at his desk — it was normal for a mentor to sit close to or side by side with the person they were in charge of afterall, it made working on the same workload a little easier that way.
“no, it’s okay. we’re almost done anyway.” you reply despite the way your eyes are almost closing but you’ve learned that having caffeine this late will do you more harm than good by the time you get home.
“are you sure? you didn’t eat much today at lunch, i’m worried.” yuuta retorts softly, laced with worry and you feel a sudden chill when your next look brings your gaze to his. he’s watching you. he always is, don’t you see that? he hopes one day he’ll be brave enough to actually approach you in the lunch room but you’re always eating with someone else, you should be eating with him, don’t you want to? it’s like you haven’t noticed that he’s always a table behind you.
“uh… you don’t have to worry, i just wasnt hungry.” you choose to swallow down the burn you feel in your throat because you’re just tired, that’s what this is— what’s so creepy about an intern worrying about their supervisor? you push yourself up from your chair with your next breath, shifting the papers along your desk before you’re turning, you feel suddenly sluggish, but you guess the overtime will do that to a person.. you’ve barely had a break this week.
“i just need to copy these and then we’re done.”
“i can do it. you should rest.” yuuta stands up to meet you when he notices the dazed look in your eyes, you swear you feel the press of his hands on your waist but by the time you search for it it’s gone. like a gust of wind that blows through you as you give him a look, he’s closer than you realise in the dimly lit office.
you suddenly feel hyper aware that it’s just you both and the aura you get from your intern seems different now, now that it’s not drowned out by the usual bright personalities in the office. you’re… just tired, you’re overthinking things.
“oh, you don’t—“ you begin but yuuta’s already taking the papers from you, smiling kindheartedly despite the way the sudden brush of his fingers against yours makes you jump. he feels so cold.
“i want to take care of you.. because you do so much for me.” his words are almost whispered, breathed against your features with how close he seems to have become and part of you cries to step back. it’s like your bones are tugging at you from underneath your skin to put some distance between you both but his eyes are holding you there, it’s like you’re scared to move, like your instinct is telling you something is off before you can realise it yourself.
but yuuta looks sweet when he urges you to sit back down, closing his eyes as he smiles gently and his awkward posture softens.. you’re just tired, that’s all it is as you watch him turn to walk away, sighing as you rest your forehead on the desk infront of you. he was a good guy, what’s gotten into you?
“okay.. thanks, okkotsu.”
you don’t notice you’ve fallen asleep until something jolts you awake, arms crossed over your desk as your cheek rests against them and you rise at the sudden realisation, the jacket that has been placed over your shoulders falling slightly.
you’re groggy, but you notice it immediately— the jacket that yuuta carries around with him to work draping over your figure, although he never seems to actually wear it. still, you’re more preoccupied with feeling around for your phone as you go to check the time, it’s even darker outside now, okkotsu has probably already left and—
“h-hah, s-sorry, did i wake you?” the soft call scares you as it sounds throughout the otherwise quiet room and your still sleepy mind. but your head turns to follow the call before you’re met with a sight you did not expect to see tonight.
okkotsu yuuta, your intern and co-worker is sat at his desk, in his chair directly next to you with his trousers pushed down around his ankles as he pumps his cock. you should’ve noticed the unsteady waver of his voice when he spoke, he’s flushed to his chest and sweating— you don’t know how long he’s been going for but with the way he’s leaking over his hand.. you need to leave, now.
“okkotsu! what the hell?!!” you gasp suddenly as you go to rise from your seat but the sound of your voice only seems to make your dark colleagues movements pick up a pace that’s a little faster. it’s filthy, inappropriate— you should report him, but you stumble back as you stand and he manages to lean forward to catch you with his free hand as he holds you opposite him.
“you just looked so pretty, i— i didn’t mean to. i couldn’t help it.” yuuta’s voice wavers as his fingers squeeze around your wrist, accompanied by the other twisting around his cock as he gives you a lidded, lust-fuelled look from where’s he’s sat on his seat.
“are you crazy? i’m your mentor!” you try to snatch back your hand but he’s strong despite the way he looks and he only seems to be getting closer, his knees knocking against your legs— his breathing coming in quick pants as his hips desperately jerk to follow the pace he’s set with his hand.
“i-its okay, it’s just us. nobody will know,” this can’t be happening, you feel his jacket pool around your feet as you struggle against him again, but it only serves to trip you up with your next movement before you’re steadying yourself against yuuta, regrettably so when he uses the misstep to his advantage.
“stop! what is wrong with you?” your eyes widen when the collision only serves to bring you close enough for your coworker to wrap your trapped hand around his cock, your palm outstretched instinctively ofcourse— to steady yourself from falling, exactly how he needs you to as he squeezes your palm around the length of him. he moans at the touch, guiding your hand as his head falls back and his now free, pre-cum slick hand crawls it’s way along your hips to keep you close before you can break away.
“it feels so good, your hands are s-so soft.” you cringe slightly at the way yuuta’s words make you burn and his brows drop with his next whimper, he’s burning hot and leaking against your skin. you couldn’t pull away if you tried and he’s strong enough to keep your hand wrapped around his cock as he fucks into the tight ring your fingers have made. “please you can’t stop— ah! i’m already so close.”
“why are you doing this?” your voice breaks with the question but you swear you feel him throb at the sound,
“b-because i like you, you’re so.. ah— so kind to me. you’re perfect, i wanted to get you alone but they.. they were in the way. they’re always trying to take you from me.” your coworkers, your friends. this is sick— twisted, you could lose your job but he’s too strong.. and you can’t lie, you’ve found yourself a pace as you pump yuuta’s cock— like your body is moving on its own as your fingers squeeze at the shaft.
he sinks into his seat as he feels his orgasm lick at the base of his spine and his hips rock into you with every intoxicating twist of your wrist. his needy, dreamy groans echoing throughout the otherwise empty office as you feel his fingers tremble against your skin— squeezing tight into your hips.
it’s like the shock has taken your words from you as you curl over your intern, wide-eyed and beginning to sweat as he times his thrusts with your palm. it’s like nothing out of the ordinary, like he wasn’t just pumping his cock to his mentor’s sleeping figure draped in his coat.. at your desk.. in your workplace. you feel yourself shake before yuuta’s voice brings you back to looking at him.
“do you hate me? please don’t hate me. ah, but please keep going, i’m going to—“ it’s so sudden, part of you almost pulls away but he doesn’t let you when his hands on you tighten, and the next throb of his cock is accompanied with the warm spill of his cum as it trails along your fingertips. it’s thin and milky, sticky on your skin and you feel dirty as you watch the way your interns head drops back to moan— usual relaxed hairstyle mused from his efforts as his cheeks flush even deeper with his orgasm and he moans your name as he cums.
another few pumps and yuuta hisses as you pull away from him, snatching your hand back from him with a bone-chilling frown on your face that makes him suddenly too shy to meet your gaze as he rushes to pull up his pants.
you’re already grabbing for your things as you shove them into your bag, ready to get the hell out of here and go home so you can actually process what just happened as you swing it over your shoulder and turn to leave.
“w-wait, where are you going? don’t you.. want me to take care of you?” yuuta’s voice is quiet, back to his usual nervous demeanour when you turn to look at him. he’s dishevelled now, even more than usual and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t flustered right now— even the sight of him only reminds you of the face he made when he spilled over your hand, you still feel sticky from his cum. how the hell are you supposed to face him again after this? this is so many levels of wrong, he could lose him job.. you could lose your job.. you didn’t stop afterall.
“didn’t you like it? or.. or i can walk you home, you don’t have plans right? so would you.. date me?” he fidgets where he stands and the flush on his cheeks is still noticeable; halting you where you are opposite him before he’s brave enough to look at you again. his eyes hold that same chill they always do, there’s no shine to them, no vitality, only this dull sheen. his stare makes you feel cold as you feel yourself swallow with your next breath.. it’s like you hesitate for a moment before you're reminded of your reality.
“not a chance in hell. goodbye, okkotsu. just clean yourself up.”
you’re pretty sure you hear yuuta go to follow you but you make sure to slam the office door as you leave. you really hope that monday doesn’t come.. especially now that you’ve seen the way your intern does.
although you find yourself looking over your shoulder a bit more than usual on the way home.
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pomupom · 2 days
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“ ...what have you done? ” / “ what i needed to. now come, i’m taking you home. ”
jamil viper ౨ৎ yandere event. 2.4k words.
warnings : yandere content, manipulation, mind control (use of “snake whisperer”), reader is a bit naïve, kidnapping / imprisonment, bit of canon divergence (no octatrio, everyone has met before book 4), mentioned drugging (but no actual).
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you knew jamil as hardworking and diligent, as mindful as the sorcerer of the sand himself. but more than anything, he came across to you as perfect — a mistake from him was unheard of, though he didn’t achieve above average, it was consistent and clean, as if the mark was his intention from the start. and though you tried to not speculate into others’ lives, you wondered if he was holding himself back — kalim was your friend more than jamil was, but you could see the skill of his work, as if every step was written on the back of his hand, or engraved into his mind (you would bet of the latter being the case for jamil). with the way kalim spoke of jamil, from his cooking to service and responsibility, you would’ve thought he was the perfect man – and, in a sense, you felt correct in your assumption. it felt refreshing after all you’d been through, from heartslabyul to the more recent octavinelle, you weren’t dealing with the artful azul, nor the meticulously cruel leona — simply with a boy as bright as the sun above, and his dutiful servant (along with grim of course, but everyone knew you could never rid yourself of him).
but as time went on, your focus became less on kalim and being around just as his friend, and more on jamil — mostly, he stood around, fetching whatever was needed, and bringing things that weren’t even said, only thought. while grim was living on cloud nine, almost in a food coma every night you spent at scarabia, you studied the behavior of your new friends – after three overblots nearly back-to-back, it was better to play it safe, than to be stuck fighting yet another student with a tragic past. but, you did learn a few interesting things — one being that jamil didn’t get beat in anything, he let himself get beat, at least as far as you could tell. with the way kalim pushed off studying, falling asleep sometimes or other times making excuses for it to end, there wasn’t a world in which he was beating jamil (though you felt a bit bad about saying such, he had plently great qualities, academics just weren’t one). and you knew that jamil thought of himself as better than those around him (which, in some regard, he was), the slip of a scowl gracing his otherwise calm features when grim bragged about his greatness, telling jamil that he did truly belong beneath him — you rolled your eyes with his remarks too, so you couldn’t blame jamil for that time. and you wouldn’t have thought more as you did if that was the only instance.
but there was always something that lurked within the grey horizon of his eyes, the blank color hiding all sorts of devious schemes — usually, they appeared quiet. a dulled tone that felt they could even lure people into a trance if they weren’t careful. you watched the way they would narrow when kalim starting spouting nonsense again, or the way they widened, as if they would swallow everything within sight for the shock. you admired him for how wonderful he seemed, and feared him for the exact same.
you started to feel yourself become lost around a week into the scarabian stay — days muddled together, and their memories blurred, haze seeming to cloud not just your mind but some around you. kalim, for example, seemed to forget his harsh behavior – was he stressed as jamil speculated? was he letting the talk of jamil being a much more suited leader get to him? you worried, and worried, until your mind ran blank and the next day it seemed like you’d just fallen asleep when trying to recall. grim worried too, about you more than kalim, constantly saying things that your ears stopped picking up — it felt like the ocean had filled them, the direbeast’s voice drowning within the waves that pushed away any sound from reaching your ear drums. it was frustrating, you thought, but you never felt anything except calm and ready, as if your heart was quelled with whatever your days had been spent on. it made you wish you’d forced grim back to ramshackle instead of getting drawn in with him by jamil’s inflation — you never thought you were doing anything spectacular, but jamil’s words lifted you up and made you feel as high as the gods, he must’ve gotten quite good at that like everything else.
was there something drugged in your tea and food? some kind of enchantment that made you forget your days? you wanted to know, and that led you right to him — soft (mainly from your exhaustion) eyes spilled their tears right in front of him, a warm arm moving up and down, along the pattern of it’s rubs, your pretty lips spilling their fears to him as you begged him to help — you’re so smart, you told jamil, i know you could help me, that you could help us. while it was quite flattering seeing the little doll waltz into his palm, caressing his ego with honest compliments like they were soft kisses to his cheeks, he simply cannot do that. you heard kalim, didn’t you? this is for the sake of the dormitory, to leave these embarrassing failures of being anything but first behind, he can’t just “help” this ... but you, little doll, jamil could definitely help you out of this mess. how tiring it must be, he’s so very sorry for unintentionally bringing you into this mess. and jamil’s sure grim’s done nothing but whine and yap, more of a mangy mutt than a weak cat, would it be better to stay with him?
jamil knows if it was you in there, you’d of turned down his offer almost instantaneously — but it isn’t. back to fitting the name of ‘doll’, your nothing but an obedient object to do your ‘master’s’ bidding. there’s a certain rush that comes with this, training his magic as he keeps you under the spell of the snake, will you be able to piece together who has done all of this when you realize your memories have gone missing once you encounter him in your day? jamil certainly hopes not, everything about you is truly perfect for him, and this is the only way to be certain you’ll end up his — your naïve little brain that does nothing except adore him, rather than begin to fear. you’ve observed him so much, but you think everything about him is lovely, not troubling. and to trust him with this rather large issue of memory loss... hah, jamil can’t tell if it makes him want to laugh from amusement or smile with glee knowing you hold him so highly. if only the rest of the world had too, if only there hadn’t been shackles attached since before he was born. a cruel reminder that he can only be great within the presence of others’ minds, not in the real world.
he still remembers the day of orientation, when you and your destructive furball had demanded entry to the college, little rumours already spreading like wildfire from the destruction your little trio had caused you — he related, in a way. much less on the destructive scale, but possibly even more so on the troubling. “the magicless prefect of ramshackle dorm” was the name on everyone’s lips as the weeks passed, from riddle roseheart’s overblot, to little troubles that you’d been involved with during daily life, you didn’t interest jamil at first, but you certainly did now – and, thankfully, kalim also seemed to want your friendship. a perfect excuse, trailing him like jamil was trained, he would get to know you before he even gave you his name.
and though the time of every effort was perfectly planned for any outcome was steep, it seemed to all be paying off in the end. from your continuous growth, making you more comfortable in this school life, to your inevitable (temporary) joining of scarabia, jamil’s plan was coming along swimmingly — only another small step until he reached the finish line, the little goal of taking you over completely. he wanted to make it so you thought of him as your ‘master’ even when free from the spell, your sweet gaze only for him without complaint. jamil can picture it now, and since he’d met your loveliness, the way he’d hold you close and tight — a grip so strong, keeping you tucked into his chest, your sultan cooing at you as the appointed servants quailed in the face of his possible wrath. it would be a perfect life, all jamil needed was for you to agree. at this point, what more could you have to lose? wouldn’t you rather have memories (though bad), instead of keeping a blank mind for the rest of your days?
jamil decided he’d give you the false security of choice — never would he actually let you have the option of you not being his. why give someone the option if you don’t want them to make that choice? but you didn’t need to worry your poor, stupid head over that as you pondered this dilemma. being nothing but a mindless puppet, moving along to jamil’s will, or play pretend in a world where only he would exist in your eyes. you had a sense for that, it seemed — but not for much else. after all, if you had, you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. all alone, your little grim nothing but a prisoner now, kalim’s mind long lost as he tried to piece everything together with you, every last one of you were complete, utter fools. falling so clumsily into his trap, defenseless to each scheme that played out perfectly. and what was even more wonderful than watching all these birds of the idiot flock fly together, was your confident defiance, only for it to be squandered moments later.
you came to him, your beautiful face wretched by the expression of anger — exclaiming how you were done with his games, that you were tired of him toying with your mind like it belonged to him. of course you’d say that right now, little bird, scared for those pretty wings to get clipped, to lose your precious freedom – how jealous jamil was of you to be able to even think that. the wonder of freedom, something that he’ll never be able to have, nor experience. such a luxury wasn’t available for people of his status, the low-life, bound servant. he supposed it was only right for you to think like that bastard kalim — “let’s talk it out, let’s have a big feast and put all this behind us”, and whatever other nonsense he tries to make into reality. for jamil, it’d always be impossible for this to be ‘behind him’, an escape from this life wasn’t possible unless the asim family as a whole was out of it.
ink as black as night poured over him, clothing transforming into a look of something which suited him — a sultan. the one in complete power, snakes escaping from underneath his turban, craze clouding over his eyes. and here you were, pushed into his grasp by those under the spell of the snake’s whisper, your own clothing changed in a second one his hands graced your body – covered in cloth of teal, akin to the princess of the story, you’d be a similar royal by his side. magicless, you were just as useless as she, but nonetheless charming in your own respect — blotted lips pressed against your hand, he chuckled as you pulled it away the second jamil let it slip from his grasp, would you try to raise it against him? doubtful, but he wouldn’t lie that a fiesty nature would turn him away, quite the opposite really.
many preparations were to be made — and the first would be sending away that damned al-asim. your eyes widened in fear as jamil had him brought forth, tears staining the cheeks of your (soon-to-be former) friend as he begged jamil to rethink all of this. money, freedom, titles – he could have it all! kalim would give it! but the satisfaction of your horror, and the satisfaction of finally ridding himself of this lifelong pest was much too tempting in this state of mind — he’d send kalim packing on a one-way trip to the ends of the world, the parting words of, “so long, ex-dorm leader kalim!”. yes, jamil would finally be free – free to have you, and free to have any and everything else he wanted.
...what have you done?
it was your turn for tears to fall, hands balled into fists to push against his chest, but his arms held you tight — snake’s tongues flicking against your ears, hanging off the end of every ‘s’ jamil let out, as if they were a part of him. just as he pictured, this was, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world even when he would own it.
“what i needed to. now come, i’m taking you home.”
your home wasn’t here. there wasn’t a place in this world you belonged, let alone with the monster holding you now. you shook your head, repeating this thought to him, only for his mocking laughter to ring out again — maybe if he wasn’t here, you’d be forever lost in this twisted wonderland, but with jamil you had your place of belonging; the spot right by his side.
and how weak you felt being unable to do anything about this. dragged along by jamil, endless servants crowding around the two of you as you made way to the dance floor — you’d celebrate tonight as the start of your lives. not simply just together, but as truly living. no longer under the thumb of those wealthy, brainless dimwits, and you no longer stuck being lost and lonely. no, you’d always be with jamil, never would he let this reality fall into being just a dream once more.
jamil was calculating, cruel and patient, taking you apart one by one. that was the true nature of him, a simple disguise shown to fool you, as well as those who surrounded him. simpletons, you all were, if only you had been more mindful, maybe then you wouldn’t have fallen into the pit of a viper.
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turtletaubwrites · 2 days
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Misty Eyes ~ Part 3
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THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!
Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)
Word Count: 5768
Misty Eyes Masterlist
Ao3 Link
Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.
Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.
Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!
Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added
!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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~🦩🦩🦩~
“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”
Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.
“Young mast–”
Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 
“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.
Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.
Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 
I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 
The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.
“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”
Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 
The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 
“Wait, you said–”
Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.
She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.
“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.
“N-No, I’m sorry young–”
“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”
The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 
I have to prove myself. 
You couldn’t move. 
“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 
You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 
“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”
Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 
Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 
Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 
“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 
“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”
Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 
No. Not on its own. 
Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 
“So disappointing.”
The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 
I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 
“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”
Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 
“Y/N, can I check your–”
Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 
“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 
His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 
Pathetic. 
“Do you… wanna talk about it?”
A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 
“Can I take a shower?”
~
The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 
He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 
You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 
“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.
“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 
“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”
“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 
The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 
‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’
“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.
“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.
I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.
“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.
“But, don’t you nee–”
“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”
Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.
“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 
“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”
“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.
“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.
“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 
“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”
“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”
His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.
“What the fuck, Law?”
He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.
“Why are–”
His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 
“Law! Why–”
“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”
You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.
“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 
“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.
“Because I am weak.”
The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 
“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.
“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  
“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.
You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 
“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 
“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 
“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 
“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”
“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 
“Get over it.”
“Excuse me?”
He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 
“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.
“Do you under–”
Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 
“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’
Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 
“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.
“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”
He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.
“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”
Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.
“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 
‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’
‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’
‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’
“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”
Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 
There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 
It felt like no time had passed. 
Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 
Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 
“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 
“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.
“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 
Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 
The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 
His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 
Oh. 
“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”
You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 
He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?
The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 
And that frown as he pulled away. 
It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 
“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”
He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.
“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 
“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”
“It’s al–”
“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 
“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”
“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.
“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”
Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 
“Let’s go talk about it.”
Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.
“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”
“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 
Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 
“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 
“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”
“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 
That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.
The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 
“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 
Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–
Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.
No more misty eyes.
You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.
“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”
A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 
“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”
“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 
“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”
A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 
“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”
Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.
And you kept your eyes dry.
~🦩🦩🦩~
Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 
“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.
“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”
“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 
Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.
“What’s your report?”
“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”
Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 
“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”
She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 
With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 
I didn’t mind when he touched me.
That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 
“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 
“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 
“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”
Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Did you sleep at all?”
The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.
All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”
Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.
Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 
“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”
“Please.”
That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 
But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 
“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 
He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 
“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 
But you were so tired. 
And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.
He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 
Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.
“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”
“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 
You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 
“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”
“Shut up.”
A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 
Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”
There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 
“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”
“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”
You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 
“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.
“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”
He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 
“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”
You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 
“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 
“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”
“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”
He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 
“Law, you–”
“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 
You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 
He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 
His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 
“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”
You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 
His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 
“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.
Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 
He was still touching you even though you were broken.  
“I want you to kiss me.” 
~🖤🖤🖤~
You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 
“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”
Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.
“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”
“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 
“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.
“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”
“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 
“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”
You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 
“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 
You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 
“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 
“You’re dumb!”
He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 
~🖤🖤🖤~
“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”
“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”
He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 
A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”
“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”
Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 
“Ew, gross.”
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰
Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass
Part 4
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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chrollohearttags · 12 days
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good girls finish last • e. jaeger
your best friend was always adamant that he’d have you and he follows through on it in a huge way.
word count: 2.3K
black fem!reader, heavy dom!eren (he’s yandere if you squint), PWOP, overstimulation, back licking, squirting, reader calls him daddy, calls reader princess, growling/marking, orgasm denial. he speaks German/Italian, many other themes I don’t feel like listing
in case you all were wondering what inspired this: enjoy! 🫶🏾
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“Mmmm!…please..”
“Shhh, keep your voice down, baby. I won’t say it again..”
the deep vibrato rang out in your ear in almost a growl like tone..his voice tantalizing and almost honey like as it deeper into your brain. He was trouble..that you had always known since the day you met him. Your best friend of several years, even when everyone else told you otherwise. However, that was of no consequence. Especially when you were certain that he was the only man for you. Someone who saw your flaws as perfections, who thought the world of you even when you seemed insignificant. It was more than what could be said of the man who had you before..hence why he was now there to pick up the pieces.
“..don’t talk, just breathe..that’s all you need to do right now. Just focus on my voice..” the command simultaneous with the sounds and sensation of his thick, warm fingertips fluidly moving in and out of your warmth. Your slick building up on the hilt of his knuckles as he flexed his wrist. His tattooed digits and arm were already decorated in the remnants of your previous orgasms and he was looking to add more to the collection. “I—I just..this isn’t right..we shouldn’t be doing this.” A statement only followed by that same maniacal laughter you had heard many times before and a soft clutch around your throat. “And why is that? Hmm..scared that he’s gonna walk in here? Good, let him see what a real man is supposed to do.” Even so, your chest couldn’t help but to heave with every delicate, calculated movement he made. Working your cunt over with the most intricate of strokes. He occasionally uses his free hand to squeeze your throat or grope your tits that were pulled from your tank top. That thong dangling at your ankles and your plaid skirt flipped up to expose your lower half..he was enjoying this! All of it far more than he should’ve but he couldn’t help himself, really. Eren had been in love with you since the two of you first became acquainted. Those beautiful lips, those thighs and pretty dark skin he found so perfect..the best part was? It was all his!…regardless of how many losers you allowed into your life. You were his lady, forever and always. And he’d make certain that everyone knew it. Removing that hand from your throat, he’d quickly replace it with a trail of gentle kisses. As well as the slight drudge of his teeth up the sensitive skin.
“Don’t you get it? We were always supposed to be together. Just me and you against the world, princess. That’s what you told me, right?” Your answer seemingly coming a moment too late for him, as he snatched your head around to meet his gaze. “Right?!” “Ah!—yes! Yes, daddy..” the name inciting more of a fire in him than before. Truth be told, he knew you liked it. You loved it, in fact. That much apparent by the subtle smirk on your face. “Look at you fucking smiling..admit it, mama. You never loved him. You were only pretending. You always were such a people pleaser..my good girl.” His voice dropped even lower as his fingers elevated to your g-spot once more. Pressing on the fleshy pad and making you writhe in his grasp. You were as good as stuck..you wouldn’t leave this spot. This bed where you and your ex had consummated your relationship several times. And not once did it ever bring you the thrill and rush that fucking Eren did. The way he spoke to you, held you close and made you feel as if he existed solely for you.
“But that’s why I’m here…you don’t have to appease anyone. You can be selfish with me, baby. Give in to what you really want…so tell me..what is that? Tell me what you want me to do…” all the while, his movements became sped up and you were clawing at his tattooed forearm; mere seconds from climaxing whilst he coaxed you through it. “C’mon, closed mouths don’t get fed, princess. Talk to me..” just as smooth as ever and devilish as well. He always had such a way with words and knew exactly how to articulate them to get his wishes. Maybe that’s why so many people despised the cocky brunette. Because he was the total package, head to toe. But an asshole to his core. Still, that didn’t mean shit to him..or you! Through your lens, he was picture perfect and nothing could change that. Working those digits in and out, you’d finally screech and yelp, unable to keep your voice lowered and in response, all he could do was laugh. Knowing that you were trying so hard to spare the feelings of someone you shouldn’t have. You’d quickly cup your hand over your mouth but to no avail.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t want your ‘man’ to hear us? Hear me playing with this lil’ pussy? Afraid it might break his little heart? You’re so considerate..” sarcastically stroking the side of your face with a lilt in his tone. But there was simply no need for you to be so courteous. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. He’s with another bitch right now. Somewhere laid up with a girl who couldn’t even think of competing with you. So why hold back, baby? Why are you trying to fight what’s meant to be for his sake?”
in a moment of haste, Eren retracted his fingers and used them momentarily to pacify your cries. He’d work them in between your jaws and meanwhile, usher you onto all fours. Prompting you to arch your back. Just as quickly, he’d tug those sweatpants down and remove his shirt in the process. He could feel you teeming right on the edge of climatic bliss but he was selfish. He needed to reach that point with you…to feel every bit and part of you as you made it to that point. Once he freed his stiff cock from those boxers, he’d align himself with your slit and immediately begin slapping it against your folds. Leaning down, he’d lace your shoulder blades with those same markings on your neck; biting gently into your flesh like a predator claiming its sweet little prey. Grunting and moaning into your ear how gorgeous you were and how he couldn’t wait to beat your pussy up. You were so delicate, soft and pretty. But he couldn’t help but to defile you..to make you a product of his sick perversions. He’d dreamed of the nights that he could pound this little pussy into oblivion. Making you cream on his shaft until you left him an utter mess..going deep until he forced you to squirt all over him and then shortly after, breed you so that he was with you in more ways than one. Having vivid daydreams of your belly swollen with his kid..it was the ultimate sign of possession!
“Fuck me, Eren! I can’t take it…” “..now where’s those manners you love so much? Say please..” there was that slick mouth. You always loved it when you weren’t the one on the receiving end but seeing as you were about to combust, you were feeding into it. “Please, daddy. I need it so bad..need you to make me come, right now..”
grasping at the sheets beneath you, you’d feel a sharp sting when his palm collided with your asscheek before those same fingers laced your throat. Eren never did like being told what to do but for you?…he could possibly overlook it.
“Shhhh! pazienza, amore mio..” pushing a finger to your lips.
the switch in dialect sending a pang to your stomach. You were always so fond of the fact that he was trilingual, being the son of immigrants. He’d tested it out on you earlier in the night as his tongue drudged between your folds and lapped at your clit. He’d begin complimenting your flavor and scent in his native languages; letting the words ooze like honey.
“We’ll get there when I say so..” suddenly, you’d feel yourself become full as he impaled you on his cock. Shoving that girthy, long member into that swollen heat. It was no time before you acclimated, despite his massive size. It was almost as if you designed just for him. “Ahh…so fucking tight. Just like old times..when you’d sneak out of class or practice, just to come fuck me. Ooh..that pussy felt so good..” Referring to your high school days when you were just alike. Delinquents and deviants only caring about each other. Fast forward and you were trying to get your act together. In college, new job, and supposedly a new man. However, old habits die hard and he was a hell of a one to crack. “You used to be such a slut f’r me. Let’s see if you still have it in you..” mocking whilst he smacked your ass repeatedly, telling you to meet his thrusts. The collision of that plump backside driving him crazy, especially when you reached back voluntarily and spread yourself open; glancing back with a smirk on your face. “Mmm..like that?” “Fuuuck..yeah, there’s my nasty lil’ bitch. Here..open up.” In one fell swoop, Eren tugged your head back and your jaw would fall slack; opening your enough for him to fill it with spit which made you giggle in return.
“Mmm, thank you, daddy..” he couldn’t help but to twitch each time you uttered the moniker. It always did sound so much sexier when you said. “You’re so welcome, princess..thank you for being so patient. I know you wanna come so bad. I want you to..” as he persisted with his speech, his strokes became a bit more sped up. The sounds of clapping flesh growing louder as well as your moans.
“ ‘Rennn…oh my God..” “..that’s right, baby. Pray to me, worship this fucking dick like you used to.” Commanding that you take it. Tightening his grip on the back of your neck, he’d force (y/n) face down, flat on the mattress in a prone position. Now, he could go as fast as he pleased without you faltering. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. The fuck were you thinking give my pussy to these fuck ass little boys? Are you crazy?” Seemingly switching his demeanor midway. That side of him always did scare you. But he’d never even so much as entertain the thought of hurting his princess. The only pain he wanted to cause you was consensual and pleasure filled. The kind you’d beg for.
“Nnngh, I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m so fucking sorry..” your voice high pitched and wailing as he pounded you mercilessly. You couldn’t take another minute of this. Your bladder felt as if it were going up burst, your eyes rolling back and tears staining your cheek. But he was inconsolable, thinking about another man in this bed with you. Being inside of you without a clue of how to make you happy. That was his job and his alone.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…don’t cry. I’m not mad at you..I’m just so disappointed that you’d settle like this..” breaking into yet another chuckle whilst his strokes became sporadic. “Please!..I’m so close..” “I know, I know you are..” leaning down to mark your spine with kisses as he lifted you back up and to also rattle off in your ear. “..so let’s get you there, pretty girl..” just then, those strokes would reach maximum speed and you’d find yourself trying to brace but you were coming undone! You could barely keep a grasp on those sheets and he was drilling you like no one’s business. Tugging you back to his chest with that same grasp on your throat, Eren kept talking; coaching you through your orgasm. Telling you when you squeeze and hold your muscles. To not release until he gave you explicit permission. Meanwhile, he’d stroke your clit repeatedly until you were nearly convulsing, trying to hold back. You had always trusted him but this teasing was too much to bear. You had to let go right now! And luckily, he wouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer
“Come for me, princess! Come for me..squirt on my dick! Spritz auf meinen Schwanz..” repeating the phrase a couple times more with a heavy growl and with that accent peeking through, you’d fall apart right there in his grasp, releasing a puddle onto his cock and the linen. You were finished; completely spent and on the brink of collapse. But he was quick to hold you in place and steal one last peck from those pretty lips.
“I love you..I love you so fucking much..you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me again..” his voice faint through his seemingly overwhelming amounts of emotions. He was so happy that you were back where you belonged. In his arms, in his life. Maybe being a goody two shoes got you nowhere and you’d gotten your heart broken trying to do the right thing…
“I love you more, baby..I’m right here..”
and hell, maybe good girls did finish last but if this was what was waiting at the end of the line?
“I’ll never leave you again, Eren. I promise.”
you’d fall behind every time!
@dancingwithdeities @iadoreprettygirls @arminsbbymami
@shamelesshoefairy @chiquititaosita @greenieweeniesworld @ichigosluvrr @thickbihhwitdagapp
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zorosdimples · 4 months
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i like yandere fics because i would much rather be locked in a basement and subjected to unspeakable horrors than work
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pastelclovds · 1 year
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-> part one
and that was how you two got here. clothing long since discarded and fucking like wild animals. your lover was beautiful under you. pink blush dusted across their face, eyes lidded, and their mouth open while spewing adorable moans. every time your dick hit their deepest sweet spot, it like you were marking your territory. they would never get tired of your cock stretching them open, never get tired of being one with you, if it were possible, they would want to be filled with you forever.
the couch you were on was rocking along with your thrusts, your sweat making stains on the fabric, and the atmosphere around you became humid every thrust in their hole. you were determined to make your lover feel good both emotionally and sexually, you grunt when your lovers hands grip onto your shoulders and dig their nails until marks were for sure to show up. but their hole tightening around you made you forget the pain and increase your pace.
"a-ah! oh you feel so good inside me darling, so good!" you hold onto your lover's waist tighter as you groan into their chest. one of your lover's hands suddenly grabbed onto your hand to keep you on their chest. "please, mark me, bite me, make sure people know that i'm yours!" without a second thought you follow your lover's demand and begin to cover their chest live bites and hickeys. your lover lets out a high pitched moan when you begin playing with their nipples and suck on the weak spot on their neck. "y-you're mine, right? you love you, right? ah, hahh, please tell me." the tears came back, except they were of pleasure, such good addicting pleasure.
"of course i love you- oh god- i'll always be yours. and y-you'll always be mine." you answered breathlessly, your pace now becoming sloppy as you were growing close to to cumming inside your lover. not that they mind at all. they wouldn't mind getting filled again, and again, until your balls were empty. after hearing your answer, your lover's legs tightened around you and grinded their hips down to match your thrusts. "fill me with your cum, fuck me harder, please, anything! just make me yours- OH!" you suddenly pulled out and flipped your lover over onto their hand and knees and roughly thrusted inside them and started moving at a faster pace than before.
In this position, your cock was deeper inside them and they could literally feel you in their stomach ruining their insides. you felt do fucking good, nobody else could have you, they would kill anyone who dared laid their hands on you. "i'm cumming, oh i'm cumming, please cum with me darling, light of my life, my one and only!" they were so close, they just needed a little bit more- "i love you so much, cum for me." that was the end for your lover, their vision was blurred with bright white as images of you filled their mind. it wasn't long until you snapped too, and you filled them to the brim.
you and your lover collapsed onto your now dirty sofa, your sweat covered bodies held each other as your orgasms washed over you. "thank you darling, thank you so much. you can't leave me. you won't ever leave me, right?" it didn't really matter what your answer was, your obsessed lover would still not let you leave them either way.
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vampcubus · 6 months
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:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑 : 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!zenitsu agatsuma, mean dom!fem!reader, modern au, spit kink/spitting, finger sucking, light master kink, light oral fixation, spit as lube, dacryphilia, overstimulation, degradation, sadism/masochism, pet name (lamb), fingering (m!receiving), cumming in pants/untouched, referenced stalking, zentisu is aged up to twenty-one in this.
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 2.2k+
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 : 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓
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Zenitsu kneels at your feet, arms hugging your legs as his wide, brown eyes bore into you through dewy, blond lashes. His gaze is reverent and desperate as if he can’t tear himself away from you. The sight is reminiscent of how a golden retriever would look at its owner, equal parts pathetic and adoring.
‘Pay attention to me,’ his eyes say, ‘Love me,’ they beg, ‘Take pity on me,’ they plead with your own.
These are the eyes of the same man you’d just discovered snooping around your home. There’s something familiar about him as if you’d seen him before.
No, you’d definitely seen him before. All those times you’d felt watched, followed, or hunted. 
His hair is the same canary-yellow you’d see retreating in your peripheral when you’d look over your shoulder. Your heart sank into your stomach at the realization that you hadn’t been paranoid after all. Someone really had been out to get you all along and now they’re here, clinging to your legs like a child.
You lower a hand to stroke your fingers through his golden hair in a placating manner, and the simple gesture of affection seems to flip a switch in him. His breathing quickens and he buries his face into your stomach, hugging you tight enough to hurt as he begins to sob. His band-aid-riddled fingers bunch in your shirt as if he’s afraid you'll slip through them if he doesn’t cling.
“You’re touching me… you’re really…” The blond murmurs, his words muffled against your tummy. He shivers and trembles like the sensation is overwhelming, but he shoves his head into your hand anyway, chasing the affectionate caress. “Keep doing it. Keep… petting me, please…”
"I-I'm not dangerous, I swear,” he whimpers with a sniffle and looks up at you, hoping that his doe-eyed gaze would be enough to get you to relent. "I just... I burn for you. Please, just let me stay! I'll do anything! Anything!”
Your fingers tighten in his hair, forcing his head back none-too-gently.
“Ah!” Zenitsu recoils in a mix of surprise and pleasure, not expecting you to manhandle him so firmly. He lets his head be forced back, his eyes still puppy-like, but a faint blush has spread across his cheeks. 
He looks dazed, drunk off of your mere proximity. He hardly cares if your touch is rough, just that you’re touching him at all. 
You lips curl into a sadistic smirk at this realization.
“Kind of pathetic aren’t you, lamb? If I didn’t find it mildly amusing I might have turned you in to the authorities,” you taunted, entertained by the way his bottom lip trembled. Zenitsu looks up, his face splotchy from tears as he sniffles wetly, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.
"Lamb?" He croaks, looking up at you through his dewy lashes at the pet name, allowing himself to hope. “Does that mean you'll be my shepherd? My master?"
“Of course you’d focus on that part,” you tsk, though you can’t say you’re displeased at the tears dotting his lash line. Sick in the head or not, he was a pretty crier, and you’d be lying if that didn’t turn you on. “That’s all you’re thinking about; being a dumb, mindless slut for me aren’t you?”
Zenitsu moans aloud at that, cock twitching in his pants. But he frantically shakes his head ‘no’, trying to insist it wasn’t true, cheeks aflame with humiliation. 
“Don’t say that! I-I’m not p-pathetic. I’m just–” he warbles, only to cry out as your foot presses against the prominent bulge tenting his pants, calling his bluff in a simple movement. 
“What’s this then?” Your self-satisfied sneer and vibrant eyes glimmering down at him make his mind go blank. 
“Th-that’s- haaa~ mmh!” His voice trails off into a mewl, and he can’t stop himself from humping himself against the arch of your sock-clad foot. “I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful. It gets like this whenever you’re around. I’m sorry!”
Your eyes darken with lust at his pathetic display, tongue dipping out to drag across your lip as he wraps both arms around your leg and bucks his hips. Heat pools between your legs, and you clench around nothing.
“Aren’t you embarrassed? Look at how hard you are, and all I’ve done is degrade you. You truly are pathetic,” you laughed, fingers tightening in his hair.
“Ssstop, I’m gonna cum,” he sniffles, teary, amber-colored eyes rolling back and tongue flopping out as his dick gets even harder. “Y-you’re gonna make me cum.”
Zenitsu squeezes his eyes shut and sobs when you take your foot away, humping the air uselessly, chasing friction that’s no longer there. His eyes flutter open at the feeling of your thumb tracing the seam of his lips, and he hums curiously.
“Open,” you instruct, and with minimal hesitation, his lips part. He shudders when your thumb dips into his mouth, stroking over his teeth and tongue. You explore his wet cavern with little regard for his comfort, trading your thumb for your index and middle fingers and purring in delight when he begins to suck without coaxing. 
“Good boy,” you crooned, and your cunt throbs at the hopeful, puppy-like look he sends you at the praise. 
He suckles at your digits more enthusiastically, gagging cutely when you press them deeper. Despite the tears stinging at his eyes, he lets you fuck his mouth open with your fingers, swirling his pretty pink tongue around them with even pinker cheeks. Desperation seeps into his expression, and you raise a brow, retracting your fingers to let him speak.
“Please kiss me,” he begs, drooling dribbling down his chin from practically blowing your digits. “P-please I’ve imagined your lips on mine so often… Dreamt of how you might taste.”
You hum, tapping your chin as if considering his request. You drag him by the hair up to your level, and he gasps at the sting, though he looks so damned excited when you lean in. 
“Open your mouth,” you nearly growl, and if Zenitsu had a tail he’s sure it’d be wagging. He obeys eagerly, parting his lips in anticipation of the hot caress of your lips over his own. 
His brows crease in confusion when your finger hooks into his mouth again, holding his jaw open, unsure of why you would need to–
Zenitsu’s body goes rigid when instead of kissing him, you spit directly into his mouth. His eyes cross as your saliva lands on his tongue, and with a startled shout, he cums in his pants completely untouched. The blond convulses and moans out, sounding unhinged as he paints the insides of his pants with white ropes and nearly collapses to the floor. He swallows your spit greedily, and his hands cling onto your waist, blunt nails digging into your hips. 
“A-again! Please, spit in my mouth again!” He cries, rubbing his overstimulated cock over your thigh despite the bright sting. “Fuck me, spit on me. I don’t care, just use me!”
You gnarl your fingers in his hair and tug him by it over to the bed, throwing his smaller form onto the mattress in a careless manner. He lands on his belly, with his lower half slightly raised, and the position brings your attention to his round ass. He attempts to pull himself up, only to be shoved back down, and then yanked to the edge of the bed until his legs are dangling off the side of it. 
“W-what’re you doing?” Zenitsu whines, nearly choking when instead of answering you yank his pants down his legs. His underwear follows shortly after and he gasps as the cold air hits his cum-slicked dick. But you ignore his throbbing half-hard sex, fully fixated on the cleft of his ass, which you’re quick to spread to get a better look at him. “A-ah! Are you-? Are you really going to fuck me?”
“That’s the idea, got any complaints?” Your hands rove over his thighs, hips, and backside, kneading the heated flesh in your hands. 
Zenitsu can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re truly rubbing him down right now. He had fisted his clock to the thought of this very moment for months on end, imagining every which way you’d take him. You’re not as tender as he’d hoped, but even your roughness is intoxicating. You’re throwing him around like a doll, doing with him as you please. He can’t help but lap up all the attention you’re giving him like a starved animal, even if you don’t love him, he’ll settle for this.
Even so, he’s eager to convince you to keep him.
“Please do! I-I’ll make it worth your while, promise! I’ll be the best toy you’ve ever— Ow!” His babbled reassurances are cut off by a harsh spank to his plump rear, and the deranged thing that’s decided you own him only wriggles his ass enticingly in response.
You even hear a choked giggle escape him and you mirror it despite yourself.
You lean in to trail kisses along the red handprint you’d left behind, and the boy erupts with shivers, his cock twitching back to full hardness whilst pinned between his tummy and the mattress. He cries out when you spit on his taint, his entire body jerking at the warm, wet sensation of it dripping down his hole. 
Your finger follows the wet trail, pressing down on his rim. He startles like a spooked rabbit, a clipped ‘Eep!’ tumbling out of his drooling lips.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” You drawled in an amused tone, forced to admit you were quite taken with the shameless blond now.
He shakes his head rapidly but grinds his ass back onto your fingers enthusiastically, brown eyes nearly heart-shaped as strains to watch you touch him over his shoulder, “Just you, master.”
You press a slicked finger he’d drooled on earlier into him and he arches, mouth agape at the sensation of being filled. You fuck him open with one digit for a while, and then two, and the stretch makes him whimper, “Hurts.”
“Relax, lamb. It’ll feel better soon, it’ll feel really good. You trust your master, don’t you?” You comfort him in a soft tone, mesmerized by the ways he clenches around your digits.
He nods quickly, and even as he moans that it ‘hurts’ his oft keeps trying to pull you in deeper. Yes, master knows what’s best for me.
He doesn’t quite say it aloud, but his body relays the message well enough.
Soon you’re fucking him open with three fingers, and the small thing can only writhe, moan, and drool against the sheets of your bed. Your scent is all around him, your fingers deep inside him, your voice guiding him along toward his orgasm like a lover would. He’s ascended to heaven surely, and you’re an angel picking him apart.
Your fingers brush over his prostate and he nearly wails, delirious tears streaming down his face, choked praises and gory promises to always protect you spilling out of him.
He’s close, so so close but he needs more from you.
“Y/nnn, my love. Please spit in my mouth again. Need all of y-yo-ou insiiide me!” Zenitsu begs, voice already hoarse from screaming his lungs out in pleasure. 
He’s sniffling and sobbing so hard it’s a wonder he can speak at all through the hiccups. 
Something about his pathetic cries resonates with you. Here this stunning man was, clearly ill for you, begging you to desecrate and disrespect him. Treating your spit like it’s a blessing. He deserved better than you, or maybe you were perfect for one another in your fucked-upness. 
You slide your fingers out and turn him over into his back. You crawl up his body, his hands grabbing at every part of you he can reach. Your clothed cunt presses against his flushed-red and leaking cock, and he keens at the feeling of your slick soaking through onto him. When your finger hooks into his mouth again, he’s quick to open it, anticipating your spit.
Instead, your lips find his own.
His limbs lock up, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your lips as he frantically humps against your pussy for a few more agonizing seconds. In the end and then he cums so hard it feels a little like dying. He lets out a strangled moan into your mouth, happy tears pouring out of him as sticky ropes spill out over his twitching abdomen. 
It feels so good he can do nothing but cry and cling, hoping to god he won’t wake up to find it’s all been a dream. But when he comes to, all he can see, smell, and hear is you. A tired, dumb grin spreads across his face.
“You kissed me,” he rasps stupidly.
“So I did,” you replied resolutely.
“I was wrong before, about you being my shepherd. I think you’re more like a hungry wolf,” Zenitsu sighs, eyelids drooping sleepily. He fights to keep his eyes open, to look at you a little longer. “You’ll eat me alive.”
“You seemed keen to let me gobble you up a moment ago,” you teased, grinding your cunt down on his oversensitive cock.
“Mercy on your lamb, please!” Zenitsu cries, squirming away from the friction this time. “Too much!”
“My lamb?” You ask with raised brows.
He looks a much too demure when he replies, “I was only ever yours. I don't care if you string me along. You can lie to me, pretend you love me. I'll be your stupid little helpless lamb, just never leave me."
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kakujis · 3 months
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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.
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and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.
synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.
warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.
ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k
@enchantedforest-network
an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.
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gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 
but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 
he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 
imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 
“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 
he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 
the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 
you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  
“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 
but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 
you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 
for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 
“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 
you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 
he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 
he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 
gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 
when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.
hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 
maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 
there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.
okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 
”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 
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to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 
he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.
his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 
“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 
a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 
the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 
“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 
he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 
you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 
his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 
hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 
“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 
the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 
you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 
he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 
it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.
he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.
your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.
"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 
“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.
he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 
“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 
“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 
“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.
he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 
“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 
“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  
“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 
“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 
he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 
you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 
“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 
you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 
“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 
you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 
your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 
you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.
“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 
“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 
“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 
you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 
“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 
“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 
“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”
gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 
huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 
but that’s not- 
it is. check your phone. 
oh, i guess it… is? 
c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 
and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 
leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 
it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 
but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 
his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.
“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 
“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 
with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 
it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 
“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 
even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 
“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”
you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 
“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 
his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 
he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 
you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 
“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 
he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 
“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 
you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 
your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 
gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.
but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.
with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 
“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 
“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 
“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 
the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 
you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 
he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 
you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 
“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 
“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 
“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 
there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 
“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 
that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 
you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 
“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 
he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 
“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 
“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 
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awhcvtie · 22 days
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nanami loved, no obsessed with his beautiful wife. even if she didn’t know that she was his wife. even if she didn’t know he even existed. he watched you walk to work every morning and he knew it was a dangerous world for someone as delicate as you. that’s why the next morning there was a new car in your driveway. remember that ex that kept being such a nuisance and how you never heard from him anymore. yeah, that was nanami.
Nanami took care of everything for you. he would go grocery shopping for you and stock your fridge with your favorite foods and drinks as well as some healthy snacks. he even replenished your body washes and shampoos for you. If you’ve fallen asleep and didn’t get a chance to tidy up, he come over clean every inch. he loved doing these things for you. for his wife. even though she didn’t know he existed.
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robo-milky · 17 days
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More self-indulgent Yandere Rook(loche) for myself because the week’s been rough ;;
Ik this is already OOC of Rook but tbf, Yandere! Rook is already OOC in the first place- I swear he’s just shirtless because it’s logical to take off bloodied clothes but hey (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`) and I was really lazy when speedrunning this for my widgets/ipad theme- and also just the vibe…
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you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo
synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.
word count; 4.3k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.
a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…
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satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
”haah…”
— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.
just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.
another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 
”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”
you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.
”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”
he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”
then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.
even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.
but you just won’t listen.
”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”
a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.
”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”
at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.
”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”
and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.
time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 
of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.
still, though.
”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”
you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”
”my little night owl.”
that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.
with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”
satoru softens. 
(always so good to him.)
”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”
in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.
he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.
satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.
so he’s been worried.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.
he just doesn’t trust your professor. 
that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.
it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.
(it was only a matter of time.)
satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.
and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —
it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.
it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 
there’s only one way to satiate it.
so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.
then he grabs his coat and slips outside.
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the moon is visible through the window.
a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 
(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)
”who… w — what are — ?”
satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 
just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 
he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.
he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.
he just can’t bring himself to care.
”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”
silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 
it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.
satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”
another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.
then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”
the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.
before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”
it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 
he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 
but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.
a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.
the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.
finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 
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three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 
there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 
that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.
(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?
it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)
there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.
and there you are.
on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 
you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.
suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.
“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”
his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.
“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 
he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 
but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.
satoru would never cage you in. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 
so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.
(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)
“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.
“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”
“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”
satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 
and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 
“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”
and he grins. like clockwork. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”
again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”
“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”
and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.
“right! i almost forgot!” 
then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.
he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.
but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 
satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.
you, you, you. the only thing that exists.
all of him is for you.
”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 
”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting, slipping from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”
”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”
another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.
so precious that he forgets about everything else. 
this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 
you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.
it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 
(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)
as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 
satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.
“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”
satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”
“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“
“— yet.”
a pause. 
satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”
a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 
he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”
a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.
“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”
satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.
”you’re so gross.”
a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”
”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 
”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 
”charmer.”
”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”
and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches a flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.
the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 
satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back. 
so why not bear the weight of your burdens?
all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.
he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.
“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”
he prays it never will.
916 notes · View notes
gojoath · 3 months
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ EASE THE ACHE, OKKOTSU YŪTA
your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. he gives you a sleeping pill (mild aphrodisiac) -> therefore dubcon. you’re still coherent / know what’s going on. creampie. biting. reader can’t sleep. he fucks you to sleep. obsession. yandere themes. aged up characters. wc, 3k.
note. for my love 📮 anon, thank you for sending it in :’) i hope i was able to do the thought justice for you, it actually ended up a little darker than i intended TT but i hope you enjoy love ᰔᩚ
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you’re not sure how long you’ve been lying here— gazing at the empty space of your ceiling as you toss and turn in your comforter. you’re pretty sure if you check your phone one more time you’ll have seen most hours of the clock, and the frustration only seems to make your body feel even more awake. you’d even taken a sleeping pill, so humbly offered by your boyfriend to try and aid your own exhaustion, but if anything it’s only made the room spin as you try to focus on the steady rhythm of your heart.
your body feels weird, like there’s a buzz underneath your skin that extends to the base of your spine— every brush of your figure against the sheets tickles and every squeeze of your hands on your thighs feels even better. you feel needy, uncomfortably so considering how late it is, but you can’t help the way it makes you yearn. why now of all moments?
you let yourself exhale a slow sigh as you try to ignore the ache between your thighs, kicking at your sheets until they pull down your hips because not only can you not sleep— your body cant even find a comfortable temperature and it makes you want to get out of bed entirely and just give up.
“baby?” the low hum jolts you slightly with the way it cuts through the darkened atmosphere of your room, accompanied by the slow crawl of cold fingertips across your hips as your boyfriend, yuuta, presses into you from behind. “what’s wrong?”
his touch feels like it cools the warmth of your skin comfortably and you find your eyes fluttering at the way his hands seem to instinctively begin drawing soothing shapes into your sides, like he’s aware of your answer before you even say it.
like he’s been awake watching you this whole time.
“i just cant sleep, i think i’m going crazy.” but your answer still earns you a smeared kiss along your shoulder as yuuta leans in closer, followed by another as he pushes his hands up the hem of your shirt to palm at your overheating skin. “i don’t know what’s wrong, it hurts,”
he holds you there, your back pressing into his chest until you’re surrounded by him— by his scent and his being. you can feel the ticklish press of his dark hair trailing along your skin as he coats you in kisses, tiny little ones that morph into ones that linger as he pushes them up the slope of your neck. why does everything feel so much better than usual right now?
“do you need me to help?” another suckled kiss and it’s accompanied by your boyfriend’s cold touch teasing slightly just beneath your chest. his teeth nip gently at the base of your neck from behind and he gives you a slow look from over your shoulder— you’re unaware of his gaze from this angle, but he can still see enough of your pretty features to leave him satisfied for now.
you don’t know why you feel more sensitive than usual, maybe it’s the sleeping pill in your system— no, it wouldn’t be that, your boyfriend wouldn’t give you something that could be deemed unsafe. you must just be tired.
you let the question linger in the space where you both breathe for a bit but you swear your boyfriend must feel the way it seems to urge your heart rate to take a quicker rhythm, taking that as his answer. your next exhale is choked off and dreamy when yuuta takes a languid palmful of your tits to squeeze, the pad of his thumb flicking slightly over your nipples until they perk up under the touch. the soft, featherlight movement is enough to make you shiver— pushing yourself closer into his chest like you’re caught in his web.
yuuta’s glad you opt not to wear a bra under your pyjamas. it’s like this is exactly what you want from him. you’re pliant, drowsy state only seems to be heightened by the pill he slipped you earlier, it would help with your sleep eventually but the mild aphrodisiac effect would be quite troublesome for you until then, but that’s what he’s for.
he had his own ways of making sure you slept well afterall, you don’t need anything else but him to help you. he can prove that.
your eyelashes flutter prettily against your cheeks as you suck on your lower lip and as much as you want to give into yuuta’s greedy touches, you know he should really get some rest too considering how little he seems to sleep. you’d put it down to him being a light sleeper, he always seemed to be awake before you— lying on his side, staring at you as soon as you first open your eyes.
like he wants to make sure he’s the first thing you see.
“it’s fine, yuu— you can sleep, it’s—“ another sinful swipe of the pad of his fingers across your nipples makes you croon, hes close enough for you to hear the way your reaction pulls a drawn out growl from him as he curls even closer— like hes trying to crawl into your skin.
“i’m not tired,” another smeared kiss followed by a nip of his teeth and you give into him so easily given the haze of your mind and the heat that twists in your gut. “i promise.” yuuta’s words are emphasised by a steady, but needy rock of his hips into you from behind as you feel the press of his clothed cock against your lower back.
your hips shift and it only seems to make everything feel even better when you feel him reach down to hook his palm beneath your thigh, pulling it back until he’s able to push himself closer to the heat that teases him between them.
“you’re so soft,” another stuttered press of yuuta’s hips into yours and you can feel the way his cock throbs against your clothed cunt, like it’s begging to be even closer, shed of it’s restraints— like a wild animal without its collar so it can return to its instincts, “and warm.” his other hand continues its ministrations on your sensitive tits as he presses more kisses and marks up your neck, then down your shoulder as he ruts into you from behind.
“sometimes i just want to stay awake to look at you.” his praise makes you feel lightheaded as heat licks at the base of your spine, you can’t help but push back into his movements— arching into the press of his palms as he toys with your body. the confession might be weird to some but you know that’s just the type of person your boyfriend was, so full of devotion and love that he’d stay awake for eternity if it was by your side.
your lips part to moan and the sound makes yuuta’s hand on your tits squeeze as he buries another strangled moan into the crook of your neck. you feel the cool crawl of his fingertips as they leave your thigh, twitching closer to the space between them instead as you hump desperately into the touch and he rewards the act of pure love with another suckled kiss.
“can i taste you?” it’s a delicious question, one that you’re still slightly whoozy, sleep deprived mind almost bends to instantly when it’s breathed out like it’s a low, desperate plea. but you know if he starts, he won’t stop as soon as he’s buried into your cunt and as much as you’d love to have your hands in his hair and his head between your thighs— you do actually want to get some rest tonight.
so as much as it pains you, you manage to shake your head despite the pleasure that clouds it.
“yuuta, i want you right now.. please, don’t wanna wait,” your voice comes out needier than you expect it too when it’s followed by a particularly, slow press of yuuta’s fingertips between your clothed folds. the soft touch presses hard onto your clit as your body rolls against his, and you’re pretty sure he can already feel the damp, creeping heat that your slick is leaving on your panties as he pants against you.
“all of me?” he asks, desperately— mindlessly as his hips continue their needy pace,
“mhm,” your answer pulls a sinful sort of sound from your boyfriend behind you as his hands grab at the layers between you both— almost ripping at your panties completely before he’s kicking his sweats to his ankles and resting his forehead against your shoulder to breathe deep. you already feel dizzy, maybe it’s how heavy your body feels— weighed down by exhaustion but also lust, need now that you’re so close to being wrapped in the man behind you.
you’re so close to easing that ache that you can feel as deep as your bones.
yuuta’s cold touch keeps you present as his hands return to squeeze at your thigh, urging you to lift it so obediently so he can slide his cock between them. you move so easily when you’re like this, bending to his will— to his love and it makes something in his chest squeeze with the way you rely on him like this. just like he needs you to.
you feel the trembled exhale across your nerves with the first press of your silky cunt across the shaft of his cock, urging his hips to almost glue themselves to you as you rub your slick along the length of him.
he’d normally spend hours to prep you, to stretch you— even just to use it as an excuse to take as much of you as you’re willing to give him.
but right now you’re sleepy, half coherent and your eyes flutter closed everytime you feel yuuta’s tip catch on your clit, making a wet tacky sound as the pleasure trembles against your spine. a few more languid thrusts through your folds and your lips part into a pretty ‘o’ shape when he finally presses against the entrance to your cunt, teeth biting down on your shoulder when he finally begins to sink into you.
you feel him grunt against your skin, one of his hands moving to rub soothing, messy circles into your clit as your pussy clenches harder around him the deeper he goes. but the dizzy spin in your head has you arching back against him, pushing more of his cock into your flexing walls until you feel him glide past the spot that has your whole body twitching in his hold.
you whimper when he finally bottoms out, high pitched and needy at the feeling of yuuta’s balls pressing against your ass and you pull another groan from the dark haired sorcerer when your pussy flexes again. it’s not enough, it still burns— aches in your gut, you need him to fuck you until you’re trembling, on the edge of consciousness. your body feels like it’s on fire with want, you’re so needy you’re considering it really could be love.
his jaw clenches and your back relaxes against his chest once more, feeling the press of his palm return to its place under your shirt as he takes a slow handful of your breast, making you melt into him as your walls quiver around him.
“i.. i don’t like not being able to see you,” yuuta’s words are a trembled exhale as he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back, feeling the hug of your walls press down on his cock eagerly at the loss as you try to lure him back in. he always liked his front row seat to every pretty expression he could pull from you— knowing nobody else would ever see you fall apart like that. not now that you’re his.
“baby,” he tries again, a plea accompanied by his first real thrust as he presses up against the pleasurable parts inside of you that make you moan. it makes you twist into him as you lean onto your back, looking over your shoulder to meet your boyfriends haunting gaze for the first time since this whole exchange started.
“‘s that better?” your eyelashes flutter as you look over yuuta’s features and you swear you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you as your eyes meet.
your lips are parted, eyes half-lidded and blown and he’s never seen you look so sinful— like you’re a fucking succubus and he looks back at you, all adoring and infatuated like he’d let you drag him straight to hell. “yeah, uh.. i like when you look at me, you’re pretty.”
the pace yuuta’s taken is quick, needy little pumps of his hips that make your tits jolt with every clapping thrust as it echos. your skin is too warm, damp with sweat but every deep kiss of his cock only makes you greedy for more as you whine wordlessly. he sinks into you again and your eyes almost roll back entirely with the way it soothes the sting in your bones and you feel your boyfriend lean in to lewdly lick at the sweat gathered along your jawline.
“please, yuu~ make it feel good,” your words are half-coherent, hormone-drunken babbles that’s are like music to your boyfriends ears when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him. it’s like your body is begging for it too, so wet and warm that every thrust only seems to coat him in even more slick as it squelches with every press, “it hurts so much,”
your eyes are still on his, albeit your gaze blurry with how well yuuta’s fucking you right now— easing your need and you feel his lips trace their way across your cheeks as his fingers under your shirt toy at your nipples again. “it’s okay, i’ve got you. i’ll do anything for you,” his voice is low, urging you to arch at the sweet, soft sound with the next press of his cock, stuttering past your sensitive spots just as his fingers pinch to pull at your tits. “because i love you,”
his lips part to continue, but it’s cut off by a rough groan when your pussy squeezes, making his hips stutter before he’s swallowing heavy and trying again, “s-so much,” your pussy is like silk, squeezing so tight he can barely move— like it’s returning his confession tenfold and that only seems to urge him to begin a pace that’s a little faster, needier as he moves to toy with your clit next. “does it feel good?”
“yes! i love you, yuu~” your mouth seems to act on its own when your mind is so foggy with pleasure, so close to your orgasm you can feel the relief tremble beneath your skin as you meet yuuta’s thrusts with messy, needy humps that only urge him deeper. his fingers are still cold despite the way he’s sweating hard, curling them into your folds as he rubs sticky circles into your clit and you’re almost rigid beneath him, feeling the waves of your orgasm begin to burn along your skin as you pant his name with a stuttered pleasepleaseplease—
you almost pass out with how hard and good it hits you, toes curling from where they rest as you make a messy, creamy ring around your boyfriends cock and he ruts into you like an animal in heat as he greedily takes the orgasm he’s earned from your pliant body.
it seems like it stretches on forever and you feel like a shell of a person as you come down, so fucked out you’re drooling and half-coherent as the lingering pleasure shoots through you but yuuta doesn’t stop. he thinks you’re adorable like this as he presses kisses against your now tear stained cheeks, licking up the drool that trails from your lips as you grab at him— you’re suddenly so drowsy but you’re still burning with lust, your body is begging for more as he continues with the back and forth stutter of his hips.
“yu—uta, ah—“ you can barely breathe with the pleasure that weighs down on you, body jolting with your boyfriends movements but it feels so good, you feel like you’re floating, caught in a dream-like state that makes the room spin.
“mhm, baby. i’m here for you— see, just look at m-me, i’ll never leave.” you offer yuuta a slow, pretty blink when you feel his fingers tilt your head back towards him, his eyes are still on you— unnervingly dark as they cut through your pliant state but his stare still makes your cunt squeeze with his next thrust.
“you’re s-so pretty.. want, ah—want you to see me cum for you,” another broken, needy plea and you whimper out a dreamy little mhm that makes him fucking moan as his orgasm burns through him. it’s so messy and loud the way he presses his load into you, fucking it into your walls until it’s pushing out of you with every thrust— dampening the mattress beneath you as it smears against your cunt and thighs.
but this time, yuuta stops when he begins to tremble— wrapping himself around you instead when his cock finally eases out of your walls, half soft and still twitching from his orgasm as you all but collapse in his arms. you’re unsure if it’s your now drowsy state that has you curling into him, but you feel like you could sleep for days— not even bothering to care for the mess when you’re in his arms and feeling him press sweet kisses against your features between i love yous.
“thank you, yuu,” it seems your sleeping pill has finally kicked in as you find yourself dozing off, you’ll be sure to thank him for giving you it in the morning after a well deserved rest.
lucky for you.. and him, your boyfriend bought more than one— just for you.
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© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.
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gojo-mochi · 2 months
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(´ε` )♡ Thinkin about a very clingy Zoro
CW: Sort of Yandere/Nonestablished Relationship. Noncon/dubcon. Fem!Reader
He's not vocal about his clinginess, more of a action man instead. Since you were first accepted in the crew, he wasn't all that welcoming compared to the rest of the crew. Especially Sanji who quickly warmed up to you, making you your favorites dishes and drinks on the night to celebrate your arrival in the crew. You were playing around with Chopper and Usopp when you felt someone sit in the seat right next to you, looking to your left you find the green-haired swordsman chugging down a mug of beer.
His eye lazily glanced down at you with his one good eye, slamming down his mug, making you jump a bit in your seat. He raised an eyebrow at that.
"Didn't think our new crewmate would be so jumpy." He snorted, making your face heat up and your blood boil a bit. Usopp waves him off, "Oh, come on! We all can't be power monsters like you guys. I, for one, am glad to add another person who has common sense to our crew!" He quickly changes the mood by taking your hand in his and pulling you to the dance floor, Chopper following suit. The three of you hold hands in a circle and started jumping around. You quickly forgot about that small interaction with Zoro, but that entire night he never took his eye off of you.
You soon realized that Zoro is just a bit rough around the edges and mostly blunt but he doesn't mean any real harm. Still, you keep your distance mostly from him, opting to hang out with Chopper or Usopp instead. There was just something about the way he looks at you, like he was eyeing down a prey, it makes your spine shiver anytime you glance his way and catch him staring back.
Maybe he was still untrusting of you? It would make sense, he is the first mate, he gotta protect his crew after all. That was the reason you told yourself at least, to justify all the time you caught Zoro just staring at you from afar or downright following you. You gotten slowly used to his presence, not jumping up in shock anymore, anytime he would sneak up behind you or placed a hand on your shoulder.
Zoro got warmer to you, you think at least. He's usually fighting beside you in battles, or walking close by when you're out shopping in town. A hand on your shoulder, moves to a hand down your back, to a hand on your waist. You figured after a while, he accepted you as a crewmate and was just overprotective of the newcomer. It didn't help you found Zoro kinda attractive, so you let him get away with the small touching he did.
And then the touching grew into more and more, and you found yourself not being able to voiced out concerns anymore. The other crewmate, beside Luffy, often giggled when they find the two of you together. Usopp and Franky would make kissy faces when Zoro would sit next to you at lunch. Sanji looks at you dejected from time to time, muttering under his breath, "What does she even see in that moss-brain idiot.."
It wasn't like you were dating Zoro, right? He never asked you out officially, he just always been there. Always...
And, now he was getting bold with his actions. When he's sleeping on the desk, resting his back on the side of the Sunny, he would sense you walking by and trips you on purpose. Making you land on his lap and holding you there. Letting out a huge yawn over your complaining and rolling over on top of you, if you were to squirm around too much. Brook would wolf-whistle if you kept on squirming while underneath Zoro, making you effectively stop all movement.
When it's his turn on the Crow Nest, Zoro would pick you up by the scuff of your shirt, dragging you away from whatever it was you're doing and make you go up there with him. He'll do the same when he's in training at the gym. Stating that he needs "help" with his workout. Though, you're not sure what you're helping by just sitting on his chest or back while he does his reps.
If you're in town or meeting other crews, Zoro would be behind you, or he'll have you tucked into his side, arms around you tight. Glaring at anyone who ever tries to look your way. All the other crews knew that you were 'Zoro's property' and not to mess with you, unless they wanted to end up on impaled on his swords.
He knew your routine to a T, what time you woke up, takes a shower, your daily tasks. And he would just be there at your side or if he had another task to do, he'll keep an eye on you, always...
He knew what you like and dislike, picking up small snacks and trinkets for you, dropping them off on your lap without a word. But looking down at you expectingly, like cat wanting praise for being their owner an offering. Though you were unsure who was the pet and who was the owner in this scenario, as somehow you ended up in Zoro's bed.
Dragged away once again, right after a bath night with the girls too. Nami giggled at the two of you and Robin told you to "Keep it safe." as she waves you off, the both of them seemingly ignoring the confused and panicked look on your face.
He smelt like musk and sweat and you idly wondered if he showered yet or just came to bed right after the gym. He was still shirtless as he presses you right up agaisnt his chest, his head buried on top of your hair. Snuffing at your scent, a deep rumble blooms in his chest as he squeezes you a bit tighter, his biceps trapping you in this position. He lets out a deep sigh, hands traveling down your body, grabbing and pinching at your skin.
Grunting out when you start to wiggle and struggle a bit in his grasp, accidentally brushing your knees right up against his hard on. He push his own knee right between your legs, forcing them apart as he makes you grind on his thigh. The thin pajamas short you were wearing did little to help against the friction it was causing, he flexes his thighs in a way that make you mewl out and dig your nails in his shoulders.
"Good girl.." He growls out, finally addressing you like a person and not some doll.
"Zo-Zoro, what are we-Mmph!" He silences you with a kiss, speeding up his movement and moving his hands down to grope at your ass. His tongue parting your lips open and invading your mouth hotly. You moan so sweetly underneath him like this, your back arching up into him as he remove one hand to ghost under your shirt, pinching at your nipples.
He parts away from you, and from the moonlight coming thru the window. You saw Zoro's face, flushed with a light pink, and his eye starting down at you. A deep dark desire swirling within them, he grins almost manically at you.
"I knew it... I always knew you wanted me too...haha.."
He moves back a bit to get both legs in between yours so he could spread you open even more. His hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs and pushing it to your chest. Your hands clamber to stop him, heart racing over this fast exchange of events.
"You're gonna be punished for making me wait so long.."
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turtletaubwrites · 2 days
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Misty Eyes ~ Masterlist
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THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.
Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)
Ao3 Link
Summary: You were the weakest member of the Donquixote Family, so Doflamingo found another way you could serve him. Until your childhood crush found you, freeing you from those chains. What will Law expect in return?
Author's Note: PLEASE heed the tags below, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Reader is a devil fruit user who was raised with the family, and groomed by Doflamingo. When this fic starts, she had been Doffy's lover for two years (their sexual relationship didn't start until her early twenties). Reader leaves with Law when the fic begins, but there will be graphic flashbacks of memories with Doffy throughout the story.
Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added
!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore
Thank you @pinejayy for this delicious request!! I went a little overboard 😅
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Part 1 ~ (3015) | Part 2 ~ (3377) | Part 3 ~ (5768) | Part 4 |
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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blueparadis · 3 months
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Yandere who is physically weaker than the other men of his age, politically powerless, restricted by the social hierarchy and who has often been bullied are like a seath of a sword. They have tasted hatred, humiliation and death like no other. Fear has long left his bones, he is used to this crude treatment of fate; has grown comfortable actually.
But when this very man is subjected to certain acts of kindness, suddenly he is experiencing fear, fear of losing you, fear of not seeing you again, fear of the unknown; and to avoid that unknown fear he will cling on to his darling like a leech: manipulate people around him to get close to her, be always the victim to receive her kindness even if that meant facing hatred, humiliation and be an abomination; just anything to get comfortable with this newfound fear.
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bearhaviour · 3 months
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New year, same me that can’t stop thinking about this AU by @sadbenedict with a very wholesome and healthy relationship dynamic
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