#get that animal on a fucking leash

[prettyflyshyguy]

Kicked, wet animal.

[boyswanna-be-her]

The dog I've been sitting for in the haunted house is the most neurotic dog I've dealt with, which is really saying something. She's not bad but she IS completely bonkers. And she's not a rescue! Same owners her whole life. How do people fuck up an animal's brain this hard?

The only thing I've seen even close was a rescue dog adopted during covid lockdown who then didn't understand what other dogs are and had crazy separation anxiety.

[sunwarmed-ash]

Uh Hi, question, uh, how many more things do I have to get bit by before I get super powers? So far we are at a wasp and and dog and all I've gotten out of it is extreme spikes in blood pressure (pics below)

[stinkrascal]

renting a house sounds like fun and games til u got weeds growing that are taller than your house. like. ok. and where did you come from

[vettelcore]

people with outdoor cats be like: yes my cat came back home half dead, caught hiv, is full of parasites and sometimes has gone missing for weeks but i don't care bc at least the cat is free and not locked inside like selfish people do!!!

[ilajue]

drew over something i wrote for a class and liked :] sorry the cars are lowkey ugly, its because I fucking hate cars and cant be bothered to learn what they look like beyond ominous hunks of metal

edit: transcript of the poem by itself under the cut

6 Tips for Crossing the Road

Look both ways

The road is for cars. 

Make sure to look for them before crossing. Even when you have the right of way, cars have a lot of safety features and you have none. 

Use designated crosswalks 

The road is for cars. 

So is the crosswalk but, under brief and temporary conditions, you can use it too! Never jaywalk, never walk in the road, just hope there is a clear and functional sidewalk. 

Cross at the light

The road is for cars. 

There are rules and signs for them, but that can only go so far. Walk quickly and hold your breath and hope that the light doesn't turn. Make eye contact with drivers as their cars teem with potential energy, rumbling with disdain at the inconvenience of your crossing. Try to ignore the cloud of exhaust that you are in and they are above. 

Leash your pets

The road is for cars. 

Obviously. 

To you, it may be natural to sacrifice so much space to them but to your dog, it is not. His instinct is to explore freely. You must curb it. Modern US car models have such high hoods that the average child, let alone dog, is obscured. Even on the sidewalk, hold the leash tight because the sidewalk (if you are so blessed) is next to the street and the threat still looms.

Look out for road kill

The road is for cars. 

And no one was there to leash the deer. 

Or the raccoon. 

Or the cat. 

Did you know that the most reliable sample method for wildlife in an area is looking at the roadkill? 

Remember these tips

The road is for cars. 

Cars are everywhere. In the city. In the suburbs. In the country. In the woods (the US Forest Service manages more roads than the entire Ministry of Transit in China.) Cars are everywhere because there are roads to bring them there, which is great if you are a car and want to get from place to place fast without worrying about the in-between. 

Unfortunately, you are not a car. 

You are an animal. 

You are in-between. 

So remember to look both ways. 

[snorfbin]

.

[fagulaa]

my controversial opinion is that anyone who identifies as a 'dog person' should be shot

[kismetlotts]

call of duty p-links -`◇´-

♡︎ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴀᴛ ♡︎

18/21+, MDNI, mature themes

triggering, upsetting and explicit content below

proceed at your own risk ⬏

Simon Ghost Riley

Riding Colleague Simon Riley and watching his cold, harsh exterior shatter, revealing this broken, needy man beneath who almost submits to tears when you finally lock eyes.

Ex boyfriend Simon Riley who spits on his fingers and stuff them inside you when you beg-plead him to stop stalking you and raping you.

Boyfriend Simon Riley who drags you into a random room at a gathering before fucking you hard and trying to stay quiet, he doesn't care that people are in the other room, he doesn't care that someone could walk in because he needed you there and then.

Hopping into the bath with your roommate Simon because you were way too impatient, you needed him inside you desperately- he can just wash his grimy, sweaty, work-orientated body later.

Taxi Driver Simon Riley who cant help but give in to his sick desires as he hops in the back to fuck you, ripping off that skimpy little dress you were wearing and pulling your hair.

Heartbroken best friend Simon who fucks you in the kitchen after sleeping over your house, relieving some of his post break-up blues and stress with the help of your sloppy tight cunt.

Toxic boyfriend Simon who fucks his cock into your mouth when you wouldn't let him in your pussy, making your eyes water and your body twitch in regret.

Sex deprived Husband Simon who breeds you the moment he returns home, he had been loyal to you while away on deployment and he just couldn't contain himself when he finally had the chance to bury himself in your wet gooeyness.

Toxic Boyfriend Simon who fucks you hard to let off all of his steam, spanking, slapping and hitting your body because he was fucking pissed at you and nothing else could calm him down- you deserved it anyway you fucking whore.

Captain John Price

Boss Price who calls you into his office for some steamy cunnilingus when everyone is packing up ready to go home, lapping his teeth around your clit and diving his wet tongue into your greedy hole- let him have a taste, its the least you can do for your boss.

Birthday-boy boyfriend John who walks into the bedroom to see you all wrapped and tied for him, completely at his mercy in white material-prepped and ready for him to use or disrespect.

Stepdad Price stuffing your hole and leashing you up while your mother is away with work, treating you like some stupid fucking bitch and forcing you to do exactly what he tells you since he is in charge and you abide by his rules.

Older boyfriend John who proposes that the two of you start by doing mutual masturbation, he didn't want to scare his young pretty girl off just yet with how rough he can be and his fingers were already itching to feel the inside of your fresh pussy.

Husband Price who fucks you deeper when you beg for it, pounding into you so hard his eyes are shining with pleasure and legs are aching in tiredness, feeling your wetness drip out and coat his dick filling the room with your heavenly squelches- so wet and so fucking feminine.

Friends with benefits John Price who fucking loves watching your arse shake and jiggle with every thrust, he loved your arse in general and was always happy to bite, eat, fuck, taste and finger it- but nothing beats the tasty sight of your cheeks swaying beneath him as he absolutely wrecks you.

Dads best friend Price who fucks you like an animal in heat, if you had taken a second longer to undress your clothes would be ripped to shreds ad hanging off you with how badly he couldn't wait-he didn't even give a shit your heels were still on because he had waited a lifetime to get inside you.

Toxic Husband John who drags you over his lap and toys with you for his own pleasure, smirking to himself when you cry from his spanks and whimper from his fingers- giving his sweet baby a little treat and punishment at the same time because he couldn't understand which one he liked more.

Step dad Price who is way to desperate for you to cum on his fingers, soak his hand in your cum and just to let yourself go, be taken care of and protected by an older male- who cares if it is wrong or not- he just wants his darling daughter to be happy and calm.

Johnny Soap Mactavish

Stalker Johnny who rearranges your guts fast and hard against your bed as soon as he gets his chance, meaty thick cock ramming its way inside with no care as he shamelessly blabbers on how you are his sweet little dove and that he thanks god for giving him this opportunity- you'll never know how badly he actually wanted his hands on you.

Greedy Hook-up Mactavish who makes you squirt just so it feels better for him, your folds leaking and dribbling with your essence but Johnny only cared about the warmth coating and lubricating his tip, making you so sodden it seemed he was sliding into warm, soft, melted, butter.

Best friend Johnny who proves you wrong when you assume hes lying about being able to make any girl cum by just his fingers, dragging you onto his bed and fingering you steadily, mouth salivating in thirst as he watches your cum propel outwards and squirt all over his sheets.

Perverted Boyfriend Johnny who cant stop himself from sucking harshly on your nipples, mind already engrossed with sick fantasies of drinking your milk, you cupping him in your arms and feeding him gently like the good boy he is for you- you'd never find out though, to you he was just teasing your breasts, sucking, pinching and having a little fun, totally normal.

Step Brother Mactavish who fucks you in his room late at night, the pints he'd had previously making him increasingly more open and confident than usual, his tip hitting the spot you craved it to his gaining a small little spank from you and a whisper to keep quiet- you cant let mummy and daddy hear the two of you.

Childhood Best Friend Johnny who fucks you so hard you squirt all over yourself and him, finally seeing him after so many years and letting him fuck your ass had gotten you so excited you couldn't hold yourself back- Johnny wasn't fucking complaining each squirt that shot out of you made him almost cum- fucking your tight hole on the brink of orgasm, he never would've guessed you were capable of that.

Perverted neighbour Johnny who invites himself in to show you just how trained his tongue is, guiding it all over your thighs and pussy, working you easily and calmly it has your eyes watering in delight.

Simons best friend Johnny who fucks you in Simons bedsheets, thick dick filling you up more than his ever could until your left a collapsed mess in ecstasy, the scent of your boyfriend on the duvet and the groans coming from his best mate sent guilt straight to your stomach but it was already overwritten by pleasure- Disgusting fucking tramp sleeping with other guys and enjoying it.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Boyfriend Kyle who just wants to feel your soft lips on his monster cock, he would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do and it would be silly to ask you to suck him- but could you please at least spit over the tip or maybe just lick it a little?

Roommate Gaz who cant survive the day without a morning quickie, your arse bouncing right in front of him and hole lustfully swallowing his juicy dick gets him in the perfect mindset for his hard work, morning television roaring in the background as you both chase your orgasms- you don't mind, do you?

Boyfriend Kyle who fucks you as fast as he can the second he hears 'faster' spew from your glossy lips, his stamina and pace unmatchable and sometimes you feel like you're about to explode with how powerful he is, Kyles a sweetheart but he isn't always so soft, slow and romantic- the man can fuck like a king.

Husband Kyle who has an obsession with filling your stomach with his massive cock, seeing the thick outline of himself through your skin deep in your stomach stirred something up inside him, fucking you harder and harder sometimes you bleed from his accidental roughness, it set him alight watching it bulge- made his savage side snap into action.

Konig

Obsessive stalker Konig who watches your window as you shower and finally builds up enough courage to join and fuck you in it one day, picking you up from behind and slipping inside your warm homey hole, drool falling from his mouth and onto your shoulder as you cried, he didn't understand why you were so adamant for him to get off of you and stop making love to you, it was no big deal- if he made you dirty and sweaty again he will just help you wash again.

Step Brother Konig who rapes you while you sleep and accidentally creampies your hole once you wake up and whimper, he didn't mean to cum honestly, he whispers apologies and a long string of worried 'fucks' as he pulls apart your cheeks watching his semen leak out of you- please don't be angry at him.

Boyfriend Konig who makes sure to use three or four of his fingers to stretch you out and prepare you for his cock, its just that big- he will kiss you on the cheek, licking away your salty tears of pain while he fucks his fingers until you, it is only a matter of time until you grow accustomed to the feeling- it will only hurt for a little more you just have to trust him.

Perverted Boyfriend Konig who fucking loses it when he sees you in your cute innocent frilly little panties, not being able to hold back his groans and his cum as he absolutely saturated them, painting them white- it is okay though, he promises to buy you a new pair- only if you let him keep these used ones- for personal reasons of course.

Brothers best friend Konig who selfishly ruts against your clothed pussy at night, breathing heavily and shaking as his precum soaks through the cotton of your panties, the room pitch black from the darkness aside from your lamp and he was supposed to be sleeping next door on the floor with your brother but here he was- sick look in his pleasure-ridden eyes as he looks down at you- whispering for you to just go back to sleep- he promises he wont go inside.

Philip Graves

Boss Graves who spanks your ass repeatedly when you disobey his orders, you work for him and you do exactly what he fucking says- there should be no 'Why's or 'No's it is 'Yes Sir' or else you are staying behind at the end of the day, and trust him when he says he will not be letting you leave until he is satisfied that you have learnt your lesson.

Toxic Boyfriend Philip who honestly does not give a fuck if you are tired or not, he will touch you, eat you, fuck you and rape you if he has to because to be in a relationship with him is an honour that you are taking for granted- he will treat you however he wants- at the end of the day your just a piece of pussy.

Boyfriend Philip who loves your perfect little nipples, he loves squeezing them, pinching them- sucking, biting- you name it and he loves it, he loves when you were silly little tank tops around the house that shows them pointing through and he loves when you let him cum on them- the minute he come face to face with your breasts and nipples, its like the world melts away.

Manipulative, Insane Boss Graves who hates when you crawl away from him and his hard cock- you know you want it, he can see it in your big doe eyes, its fuels him with rage when you cry and threaten to report him if he puts it inside you so he threatens your job back, promising you that if you ever told anyone or reported him that he would come for you and no matter how fast you tried to escape that he would always outrun you.

Husband Graves who upsets you during an argument so he decides to tug your panties down and fuck you in all the ways you love just before bed, his breath hot on your neck and sweat forming under both of your pyjamas from how fast his cock was entering you- the music of your panting and the scent of sex in the air made it safe to say neither of you got much sleep but at least he is back in your good books.

[confessionsandcreampies]

sex ban for the blue lock boys 🙂‍↕️

— barou shoei - “i said i’m still sore”

you slam the bedroom door shut, limping just slightly. barou raises an eyebrow from the weight bench. “you done pouting?” he asks, smug as ever.

“i’m done with your monster dick,” you hiss, grabbing your robe tighter. “i haven’t walked right since tuesday.”

barou’s mouth twitches. “it’s saturday.”

“exactly.”

he shrugs. “so, what, you putting me on timeout?”

“no sex for a week.”

“you’re bluffing.”

“touch me and i’ll scream.”

barou’s eye twitches. “tch… i’m not touching you. not until you beg me.”

he’s working out shirtless for hours now. stretching in front of you. drinking water slow and letting it drip down his abs. the sex ban might kill you first.

— itoshi rin - “you said just the tip”

your thighs are trembling when you roll over in bed and groan, “i’m bleeding out. internally. you broke my fucking uterus.”

rin doesn’t even look sorry. “you said ‘just the tip’.”

“and you shoved in like you’re trying to win the world cup.” you slap a hand over your cunt protectively. “it’s over. no sex for five days. minimum.”

rin’s jaw flexes. he leans in, cool and dangerous. “you’re gonna come crawling back to me, begging to ride it.”

you scowl. “i’ll ride your face, maybe.”

by day 3, you’re the one rubbing your thighs together and staring at him in practice gear like a feral animal. he just smirks and says, “no sex, remember?”

— isagi yoichi - “you’re too athletic”

you’re face down on the couch. absolutely ruined.

isagi peeks over the backrest. “you okay, baby?”

you groan. “your cardio is insane. you went for four rounds. you flipped me like a pancake. i blacked out.”

“i offered to stop after two…”

“no you didn’t, you said ‘just one more’ and then fucked me through the mattress.”

isagi looks a little proud. “you came six times.”

“and i haven’t peed properly since. no sex. one week,” you pant. “or i’m going to the hospital.”

isagi whimpers like you kicked a puppy. “but i’m horny.”

“go fuck the air bike.”

he’s been whimpering every time you so much as bend over. the punishment is mutual.

— shidou ryusei - “you need an exorcist”

“you’re possessed,” you cry, crawling away from him on the bed like a war victim.

shidou’s just grinning, dick still hard, glowing like the fucking devil. “you came so hard you bit me.”

“you licked my ear and said ‘i’m gonna eat your soul’—i got scared!” he’s stalking toward you again and you shove a pillow at his chest. “sex. ban. until you learn restraint.”

shidou laughs, dropping onto all fours like a lion. “restraint? you think that’s what gets me off?”

“you’re on a leash until further notice.”

he loves it. now he’s following you around on his knees calling you ‘mistress’ and jerking off in the corner while making eye contact. you’re the one that breaks. screaming. clawing. sobbing his name.

— nagi seishiro - “i literally can’t stand”

“you moved last night,” you hiss.

nagi blinks, hair messy and half-asleep. “yeah. i was horny.”

“you flipped me over and railed me at 3am.”

he blinks again. “was good, though.”

“i had to call out of work. i can’t walk.”

nagi looks at your legs and shrugs. “you said you missed me…”

“i said i missed cuddling. i didn’t ask to be folded like a lawn chair.”

he yawns. “want me to carry you?”

“sex ban. five days.”

he pouts. “but i’ll get bored…”

now he’s dry humping you at night like a sleepy puppy. and you’re so sore you can’t even stop him.

— michael kaiser - “you’re just jealous of my endurance”

you glare at him from the bathtub, covered in bruises and bite marks like you got jumped by a vampire and a gymnast at the same time.

kaiser stands in the doorway with his hair still wet, drying off like a goddamn shampoo commercial. “you’re mad because i’ve got elite-level stamina, babe.”

you throw a loofah at him. “i can’t sit down.”

“oh, boo-hoo. i put the pillow under your hips like a gentleman.”

“kaiser, you fucked me on your knees, holding my ankles, for twenty minutes after i said ‘i can’t cum anymore’.”

he grins. “and then you did.”

“sex ban. a week.”

he pouts like you took away his favorite toy. “i’ll just jerk off onto your panties then.”

you find your entire lingerie drawer missing the next day.

— karasu tabito - “i can’t trust you anymore”

“i said no sex.”

karasu grins against your neck. “and i said ‘okay’…”

“you also said ‘this isn’t sex if i only use my tongue.’”

he licks up the side of your jaw. “loopholes, baby.”

you shove him off, flustered and wrecked. “this is a serious ban, tabito. no dick, no tongue, no fingers, no dry humping. nothing. you’re on full lockdown.”

he’s smirking, smug. “you act like i’m the problem, but i’m not the one who moaned like a pornstar last night.”

“i cried. you made me cry from overstimulation.”

“hot.”

“we need rules.”

now he’s got a dry erase board tracking your ‘horniness level’ and offering coupons to redeem for tongue privileges. you’ve created a monster.

— bachira meguru - “you wore me out like a toy”

you wake up to the soft buzzing of your phone. it’s a photo. you. naked. legs shaking. crying into the sheets.

text underneath: hehe look what i did 😝

you slam your phone down and scream, voice hoarse. “meguru!! you broke me!”

he pops his head around the doorframe, grinning. “buuut you were smiling!”

“you were hitting my cervix and laughing.”

“i was happy! you looked so cute like that!”

“sex ban. forever. i’m moving out. you’re too dangerous.”

he gasps like you murdered him. now he’s constantly clinging to you with pouty eyes like a sad golden retriever. “let me just rub it against your thigh, pleaseee?” you give in, instantly. again and again.

— sae itoshi - “that wasn’t normal”

sae lifts his head from between your legs, lips slick, eyes dark. “you okay?”

you’re shaking, barely breathing. “i saw the abyss.”

he smirks. “still wanna call me lazy?”

you slap his chest. “you fucked me like you had something to prove.”

he shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “you said rin was better.”

“as a joke, sae. jesus christ.”

you roll away from him, trembling. “sex ban. ten days. you’re scaring me.”

he chuckles. “not my fault your body responds to me like that.”

“i orgasmed in my sleep after that.”

he just smirks. “good.”

— reo mikage - “you treat my body like a challenge”

“i’m a human, reo. not a final boss fight.”

reo’s panting on top of you, abs glistening, body still hard like a statue carved for sin.

you’re lying there, dazed, questioning your life choices. “how are you not tired? that was two hours. you flipped me like a coin.”

he grins. “it’s a workout! cardio, baby.”

“i think i dislocated my hip.”

“worth it.”

“sex ban.”

he frowns like you just denied him a raise. “but i have so many positions i haven’t tried yet…”

“i’m gonna file a police report.”

now he’s scheduling yoga classes just to get you in compromising positions and calling it ‘stretching’.

— yukimiya kenyu - “you gave me a uterus cramp”

“stop apologizing,” you growl, legs splayed in a heating pad cocoon.

yukimiya’s pacing the room, looking emotionally devastated. “you were in so much pain after. i should’ve pulled out earlier���”

“it’s not your dick, kenyu. it’s your form. you kept hitting the same spot like you trained for it.”

he looks down, sheepish. “…i did. i watched a video.”

you blink. “you researched my pussy like a football match?”

“i wanted to win…”

you point a trembling finger. “sex ban. i need a spa retreat and a priest.”

he nods. “of course. of course. i’ll take care of you—no touching, i swear.”

now he’s washing your hair in the tub, whispering how good you smell, stroking your thighs like he’s mourning them. you’re gonna snap.

— alexis ness - “you fucked me like i was property”

“you called me ‘mine.’”

ness looks up from the couch, eyes wide and innocent. “you are mine.”

you narrow your eyes. “no, alexis. you growled it. while holding my hips like reins.”

he blushes. “you liked it.”

“i cried.”

“you moaned while you cried.”

“sex. ban.”

his smile drops like you just declared war. “wha—what did i do wrong?”

“you. fucked me. against a mirror. for two hours. you didn’t even blink.”

he looks wounded. “but i missed you… it had been two days…”

you hiss. “no dick for a week.”

now he’s sulking. leaving you dramatic notes like ‘you were made for me 😢’ and sending you thirst trap selfies captioned ‘what you’re missing 💔’. you’re weak and he knows it.

[the-interabang]

Coyote time

Coyote time

[specialgradefckr]

Born To Be

Satoru Gojo was born to be your dog.

tw: explicit content. potential dubcon. lowkey yandere. vague petplay/? fantasies. voyeurism. gojo is far past simp and is now charting new territories of being down bad.

Despite being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, Satoru Gojo thinks he'd be happier as your dog.

He could attack on command. Just point at something you don't like - he'll get rid of it for you with a smile.

There'd be no need to worry about what he was sinking his teeth into. Dogs don't worry about what they bite. His only job would be to love you, and love and protection go hand in hand.

To follow you around. Heel, like a trained animal, glued to your side. You'd take him everywhere with you, and he wouldn't even ask where you were going.

Whenever you walked up to the door he'd be right there, tail wagging, enthusiastic. Just the thought of it makes his heart race. He just wants to be with you.

Would you pet him? Call him your good boy? Give him treats?

He salivates at it. He knows your scent, like any loyal pet would. Even now he can almost track down your panties in your room like a bloodhound.

Satoru imagines you sitting on a couch. Legs spread. Looking at him, beckoning him with just a hand. Lick.

He has to swallow some drool at the thought. God, if he could just taste you. He'd dive onto your cunt without reserve, suck and lick and devour like the animal he is.

Nothing could stop him. He wouldn't stop until your thighs tighten against his ears, until you shudder and whimper out those little whines he loves so much. And he would drink in your gasps like he licks your cunt clean, even with his cock weeping painfully between his legs.

You're a sweet creature, though, he's sure you'd give his ears a scratch, his head a pat, and that'd feel good enough on its own just to dirty your floor, your sheets, maybe your legs or belly if he's lucky.

Maybe he finds you one day - all worked up and horny, riding that cute, fat pink dildo of yours in your room, away from his sight.

Then he could offer himself up. He'd be warmer than a toy, and softer too! And he could help out, he could do all the work, even, fuck into you just how you want!

If you wanted to put him on a leash and yank on it when he went too hard, or to get him to go slower - god, yes, please. He imagines doing it all with a little bell on his collar, jingling as his muscled, powerful body slaves away on top of you. Thrusting and pressing and rubbing in whatever way pleases you best.

You can get him fixed if you want and he could even cum inside you, hot and gushing. You always squirm afterwards as it drips out, and he could use that excuse to clean it up with his mouth.

In the privacy of his mind, he'd imagine pushing it back in. Plugging you up and keeping it inside, panting and pinning you down like a beast breeding his mate.

But he wouldn't! Not if you didn't want him to!

Because he'd be a good dog for you. Selfless. Loving.

God, he would. He would! Why can't he? Why did he have to be born a sorcerer, when he could have been so much better as a dog?!

You'd take him, right? Wouldn't you?

He's useful, you know! Can teleport places. He could keep you safe!

Satoru Gojo knows, in his heart, he was born to be a sorcerer; he's a hunter, down to his bones. Scanning his surroundings for threats, seeking out cursed energy, planning up attacks in his head - it's second nature.

But couldn't he be a good lap dog, too? If he tried? If he got the chance?

Dogs don't feel betrayed, or angry. They don't wonder what they could have done better. There's no moment replaying in their mind, over and over and over again, wondering what did he do, what did he do wrong, how can he fix this -

Dogs don't understand. Satoru knows he could be a dog, because at the end of the day, he doesn't get it, either.

He just gets to think about it, endlessly. It makes him miserable.

If sorcery really is what he's meant for, if this is his intended purpose - why does living this way feel so hopeless?

It fills him with longing. Your body against his. Your voice in his ears. He gets so little of it already, tied down with these duties he never asked for, this life he was just born into.

Sometimes, when he's ripping curses apart, he imagines bringing their corpses to lay at your feet. Trophies.

He imagines the annoying boss you complain about, your shitty ex-boyfriends, an old "best friend" who stabbed you in the back - he'd be a good dog. He could bring you their heads, it would be so easy.

Then you'd scratch by his ear, call him a good boy. Give him a treat for his hard work, even.

That's what his power should be used for. That's what Satoru Gojo should be.

He wishes, how he wishes, he could just - lay the world at your feet. He imagines how his hair would stand on end as soon as you clicked his fingers, how his six eyes would race faster than human perception to tell where your gaze was directed, what had displeased his master and deserved to be wiped from the face of the earth.

It wouldn't matter if the world needed him. If innocent lives were at stake, if the future of sorcery was left at the mercy of selfish old fools.

Satoru Gojo would be the name of a dog whose thoughts didn't go any further than when will master be home and pet me, pet me!

He'd sleep at the foot of your bed, or curled up next to you, if you allowed it.

God. Even a crate sounds nice, if it was you locking him in there. He'd whine and cry and give you big blue puppy dog eyes. Watch your heartstrings tear.

He'd be such a good dog, even when he'd been bad. Gotten into your laundry again. Nosed your panties too many times while you were sleeping.

Maybe it would be nice to be bad for you, sometimes.

To pull at the leash just to feel it tug his throat. For you to yank him back and put him in his place; it takes his breath away, really.

Lock him up, watch him curl up in a cage, make himself small for you. An apex predator, a killing machine, all tame and docile at your fingertips.

You'd get off on it, he likes to think. He's seen that glint in your eyes when you talk about things that frustrate you, every indignity you have to swallow in life because retaliating would only leave you worse off.

So restrained. But you could take it all out on him, if you wanted. Satoru wishes you would.

He could be your dog and your chew toy. Just throw him a bone every once in a while. Sneak him table scraps while he noses at your cunt.

It makes him sigh, just the thought of it. The blissful life he could live, if only he had been born as your dog, instead of this.

He still can be, if you want.

"Here you go!"

Your voice interrupts his reverie. The smile you give him is bright, sincere - like it always is.

"Don't tell anyone else," You say to him, eyes sparkling conspiratorially, "But I made yours special this time. Satoru, right?"

His heart flutters. It does every time you call out his name. Sometimes he doesn't come up when you call, just to hear you say it again.

"Yup!" He chips, flashing you a smile. "Can't believe a pretty girl like you remembers little old me~"

"Thank you," You look away, which is fair. He doesn't wear the blindfold when he comes to see you, and a lot of people get shy when faced with his eyes. "Does your girlfriend know you're always flirting with the baristas?"

"That depends," He leans onto the table, sipping at the drink. Watching your eyes follow his lips. "Are you my girlfriend yet?"

That draws a laugh out of you. "Stop joking! Seriously, if you were my man, I'd be so angry about you talking like that."

And your eyes come back to meet his. To catch that magnetic smile that brightens up just for you.

"Nope," Satoru hums, bringing the drip up to take a long gulp, "No girlfriend. Position's open, if you ever want in~"

You laugh again, but he can tell it's awkward - like you're not quite yet ready to believe he means it.

It's okay - he laughs along with you, just to make you feel better. Says his goodbyes, smiles and waves before he leaves.

He can try again tomorrow. It's not like you're going anywhere.

And even if you did...

Well. He's already got your scent <3

[kissracing]

THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND, lando norris.

summary. a man named lando norris can’t stop fawning over his girlfriend, yn ln &&. people are SICK of it!

featuring. lando norris x fem!poc!reader (faceclaim, jennie k).

warning the following fic has. . . swearing, reader being equally in love, people being mean (as a joke).

lando.jpg • instagram

liked by iamrebeccad, user, and others

lando.jpg photo dump but its mainly my girlfriend 😍😍😻😻🫶🏻🫶🏻👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

♥︎ 577k 💬 62.9k ➢

view comments. . .

user MAINLY?? BRO THE ENTIRE POST IS HER 😭

user THEY GOT BUILD-A-BEARS AND MARRIED THEM??? FAWKK

user shes so beautiful what the hell

⤷ lando.jpg EXACTLYYY

user YALL NEED A MAID?? A CHEF?? ANYTHING??

user yall are disgusting ❤️ (in a good way)

user now how the hell did he bag this baddie

user CON😭GRA😭TU😭LATIONSSS😭

iamrebeccad Who is that gorgeous girl 😍🫶🏻!

⤷ lando.jpg my girlfriend 🙂‍↕️ 🙂‍↕️!

⤷ yourusername rebeccaaa 🥹🫶🏼🤍

user no one loves y/n more than lando

user something about him only posting 2 photos of him is killing me

user that pizza look good omg

random users • twitter

yourusername • instagram

liked by maxfewtrell, user and others

yourusername my November edition with ＠wkorea is out now! ♡

♥︎ 912k 💬 97.1k ➢

view comments. . .

user FIRST LMAOO

⤷ landonorris 🔥🔥 FUCKK ＠yourusername DELETE THIS COMMSNT. THIS IS EMBARRASSING 🔥🔥

landonorris FIRST 💯💯💯

landonorris HUBBA HUBBA 😍😍😍

landonorris can i PLEASE take you out 🙏🏻

⤷ yourusername Sorry! I have a boyfriend

⤷ landonorris FUCK HIM 😒😒

⤷ yourusername i do every night 😼!

⤷ user Y/N WE SAW THAT???

landonorris ZOO WEE MAMA 😻😻😻😮‍💨😮‍💨

user someone please put THAT ANIMAL (lando) on a leash.

user I CAN BARK IF YOU WANT!!

user the motorcycle photo?? whew 😮‍💨

user please universe if you rock with me, give me same love lando gives y/n ✊🏽✊🏽

maxfewtrell i’m pretty sure he cried over these photos

⤷ user oh that’s—

⤷ landonorris THAT IS A LIE

⤷ landonorris okay no it isn’t ☹️

landonnorris • instagram

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and others

landonorris brief padel session 😵‍💫

♥︎ 663k 💬 45.0k ➢

view comments. . .

yourusername WHO LET YOU OUT THE HOUSE LIKE THIS??

yourusername WHORE 🫵🏼

⤷ landonorris only for you 😻😻

yourusername gnawing on the bars of my enclosure

⤷ user at first i didn’t get this relationship but after this, i see why yall are dating

user PEOPLE DIED LANDO

user WHEW 😮‍💨

user LANDO ONE CHANCE PLEASE 🧎

user i need to lick the sweat off of you wow

user yn you lucky lucky girl…

⤷ landonorris erm actually! i’m a lucky lucky man 🤓😻🔥

yourusername didn’t realize i was running a damn BROTHEL. 😾

yourusername come home the kids miss you

⤷ landonorris KIDS???

⤷ yourusername THE ONES WE’RE GONNA MAKE WHEN YOU GET BACK.

⤷ carlossainz55 He just tripped over his shoes and then hit his head on the wall. You guys are gross

⤷ user have yall no shame??

yourusername i love you boyfriend 🧡

⤷ landonorris I LOVE YOU MORE GIRLFRIEND!! 🤞🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

amera speaks. first fic woohoo!! *tiktok happy emoji*. i hope you all enjoy <3. i hope it’s not to long. not much to add. bye bye!

[robo-writing]

Someone asked me to elaborate on this post, so I will :3 (18+)

Logan is a man who has always been a pack animal—a sheep in need of a flock, if you will. As much as he can deny it, he thrives off of a need to belong, a need to be needed. He’ll never admit it, but the signs are there.

Being fiercely loyal, his devotion, violent towards anyone or anything that threatens his peace. With the X-Men he’s protective, but with you? It’s something else entirely.

When Logan finds a partner actually willing to stay with him—broken, animalistic thing that he believes himself to be—he holds on tight to them and refuses to let go. It’s an odd mix between a child holding onto its favorite doll and a dog sinking its teeth into its favorite chew toy—but the intent is the same regardless.

You’re his, and he’s never gonna let you go.

To say he would kill for you is truly an understatement—he would wage war for you, would watch the viscera river down his arms in streams—a privilege he offers to you and you alone, the only woman in the world he’d ever trust with his leash. It scares him, how much control you have over him, but it excites him all the same.

The best part? You truly have no idea how much power over him you have.

Even the simplest things have him bending over backwards for you, calling for him from across the house in that melodic voice he loves so much just to ask him for help.

“Could you help me with dinner?”

“Mind grabbing this for me?”

“I’m too lazy, sorry to be a bother—“

And the answer is the same each time—“You’re no bother princess, just say the word.”

He wants to scold you sometimes at the mere suggestion that his answer would ever be no. When it comes to you, he doesn’t think the word is in his dictionary. You have him deeply, truly, well trained, so much so that he’d gladly kneel at your feet if it meant you’d look down at him, because at the end of the day you’d still be looking at him.

Embarrassing really, that the big bad wolverine is secretly a lovedrunk puppy, one that’d dig his thumbs into the arches of your feet, smiling to himself when you let out that deliciously drawn out moan when he hits the right spot, right there, thank you.

However, that same puppy turns into a feral hound whenever he perceives a threat. Whether it be friend or foe, he’s one step behind you the moment you show any kind of discomfort. Even the slightest hint of hostility and Logan’s right there, chest puffed and glaring daggers at whoever was stupid enough to try, and that’s on the best of days.

On the worst of days…it’s a different story entirely. You’ve become far too familiar with the dulled sound of skin meeting metal, that familiar snikt before you’re forced to stand between Logan and his next victim. The two of you have gotten kicked out of your fair share of establishments, but Logan apologizes in a way only he can—with his mouth against your cunt.

Every lick, every suck, every touch, an apology. Muttering into your pussy, worshipping it, his tongue against your clit his own personal prayer, the sound of your moans his reward for being so devout.

“Sorry for getting us in trouble doll—“

His palms smooth over your trembling flesh, rough and calloused, just the right amount of pressure to keep you grounded.

“Sorry for getting you banned from your favorite shop—“

His fingers leave divots in your thighs, pulling himself further against your mound. His nose bumps against your clit with each pass, and the feeling leaves you gasping for air.

“Sorry for being so protective—“

Again and again, his mouth brings you to heights you never thought possible.

“Sorry for being so rough, just can’t help myself.”

In more ways than one, he really can’t, can’t take the man out of the beast if he’s more beast than man. Can’t teach a feral dog to socialize, but you can teach it who his master is.

And boy, do you fucking teach him.

You give him the best lesson of your life whenever you praise him, spread your legs and pull his head deeper into your needy cunt, dig your nails into his scalp just the way he likes it and moan for him while your thighs shake and your pussy squirts against his taste buds.

“Good boy, Lo’—good fucking boy—“

If he had a tail, it’d be fucking wagging.

[vviltrumite]

more sub Mark please

or perhaps his variants

i like the idea of treating Sinister Mark like a dog, collar and leash, riding him so hard that he growls and lets out other animal sounds, which become more acute as his climax approaches

or maybe Mohawk Mark crying against your legs throwing a tantrum because you refuse to be his empress and all his other tactics to make you give in didn't work

— dangerous animal / only you ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

⚛ sinister mark x you

⚛ mohawk mark x you

wc :: 1,992 ( 10,907 char . )

rating :: nsfw

a/n :: THIS IS TWO SEPERATE FICS!!!!!! i liked this request alot so i just figured hey why not write a two in one??? anyway i had sm fun writing this especially mohawk marks half of it and I think ur soo right about sinister acting animalistic in bed and I rlly like the idea that mohawk js becomes soo desperate when you refuse to rule in his empire that he starts to whine and cry about it

Mark grunts when your hips fall back down around his cock, your brutal and unforgiving pace sending animalistic noises from deep within the confines of his throat cascading out as you ride him. He tilts his head back, easing the tightness of the collar around his neck just slightly. But his reprieve doesn't last long as you're quick to yank back on the leash, causing his head to jerk back up into place. he keeps his eyes glued to you, the way your body rocks and the way your tits bounce when you move up and down on his cock with a quick rhythm, cruel and callous.

"No, no. None of that." you scold, tone assertive and disciplonary, like one you'd use to speak to a misbehaving animal. "Look at me." You're quite sure that whatever he keeps tilting his head to look at on the ceiling is far less interesting than what's going on down here, and he grits his teeth so hard you swear that you can hear them scraping against one another in his mouth, and the sound is occupied by a snarl as you slam all the way back down onto the base of his cock, walls clenching tightly as they swallow around him.

The leash, so tight around his neck that you can see the faint pink and purple whispers of bruises beginning to blossom around his neck, seems to be the only thing holding him back from flipping you over and taking you exactly the way he really truly wants to. Pressing you so deep into the mattress and just fucking ruining you. Even though he easily could if he wanted to, he chooses against it even as his fingertips press into your sides, nails digging into your skin just enough for you to register the slight pain—Though it feels distant and numb and not all there as your hips guide him through the hazy, blurry mess of feelings that are his own pussy-drunk mind begging him for more, more, more.

Marks gaze is trained on you, and it takes all of his effort to not let himself get lost in his thoughts or let everytjing he's feeling cloud over the words you said, the order you had given him; "look at me" you said. Mark has to have it play on loop in his mind just so he doesn't forget it.

"God, fuck..." He barks out between grunts and the low growls that escape his agape mouth when he pants, breathy and worn and tired. despite his.. Usually hostile nature, and the fact that he's killed probably millions at this point, he still has a weak spot for you. Something that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to rid himself of.

"See?" You start in that sickening, all too sweet tone that makes him think you're teasing him—it's almost irritating. And if it does get under his skin, he doesn't let you know. "You can be good when you want to be, right?"

"Yeah, yeah..ah, fuck.." He chokes out mindlessly, saying whatever he can to make you happy. Dogs aim to please, and he's already on a collar and leash. can't get much more embarassing than that, can it? Might as well try and be a good boy for you.

His sounds only grow in both volume and frequency, like he's losing himself inside you and becoming this animal, this dangerous thing and you swear for a split second that you can see his eyes black out as his pupil expands, leaving no room for the usual dark color in his iris until his eyes flutter shut in a blink and reopen, returning to their normal brown.

He looks almost feral like this, still trying to cling to some sense of normalcy with a vice grip that slips with every noise, every whimper you drag out of him when your hands come up around the leash to tug and pull, he got off on it. And you can tell hes getting close by the way his hips buck up into you and throwing off your steady yet grueling pace like it was an instinct, something programmed into the way his mind worked.

The action sends a startled moan to escape your mouth, and it's something that neither of you expected, uncalled for and surprising to both of you. But especially Mark, because he lets out this noise like a low hum that sounds sort of gutteral, and a half snarl, half grin tugs at his features. And it's all sharp canines and wet lips on account of the fact that he's practically drooling at the sight of you so perfectly poised above him.

The noise, the unplanned one you let out unleashes this wild look in his eyes like he's starved for more, chasing his orgasm as best he can under the restrictions of the collar so tight around his neck that he can feel the pressure bubbling up in his throat.

And eventually he finds it when you come back down around him, stroking over that spot that makes his cock twitch inside younand before you know it you're being his come pumping into you with each time you rise and fall around him, overflowing and spilling back out messily onto him with dirty, wet sounds that you only hear because his ragged breaths slowly ebb off as you milk him dry, post-climax exhaustion washing over him and replacing that feral need he had just experienced moments prior.

It's something straight out of a porno film, the way his hands shake even though they never left your skin, and the way his chest rises and falls sporadically. You're both quick to come to the realization that this is something you'll never get enough of. And neither will he.

Marks hands ball into fists at his sides, and he looks between you in front of him and the wall at his side like he can't decide which one he wants to barrel his fist into first. "Fuck, why?!" He shouts like thunder, voice cracking above the silence, and it makes you jolt.

His eyes are rimmed with tears that blur his vision, but he still makes out the shape of you, standing frozen in your room where he'd been so many times before—By choice? Or paralyzed with fear? He cant tell. But that was back when things were different. When they weren't... whatever this is. This temper tantrum breakdown of his, it was something you've never seen before. Sure, he had a temper sometimes, something would tick him off just the right way and Mark would get foul mouthed moreso than he usually was. But it had never brought him to tears like this.

Even before he conquered Earth, he would tell you about his plans. About how there was "Nothing you could do" To stop him, and he was dead set of having you rule alongside him. When you turned down the idea, he thought you'd come to your senses. Pick the better of two evils. Live safe alongside him and all his horrible atrocities, or suffer a fate far worse with the rest of the people he'd soon conquer as slaves.

When the day came, and the world was in ruins at his hands, Mark tried to be nice about it at first. Lure you in with promises of a life better than anything you'd experienced. He offered you a life of luxury, as long as you were by his side.

But when you still refused, he got angrier. Things started to boil to the surface. He started to threaten your family, your friends, he stole away all the things you loved. Mark had you practically trapped in a corner. There was no line he wouldn't cross to get you to join him. But you still refused, defiant as ever. That was something he used to love about you. Now it was just getting in the way. Fuck.

He calms as he approaches you and it's sudden and unexpected. his hand is outstretched and hovering above your waist, looking conflicted between pulling you closer or shoving you away. He chooses the ladder and his arms are quick to wrap around you. The tidal waves of his anger begin to wane with each passing second as he buries his face into your shoulder. And when he speaks again it's muffled, voice shaking like he's about to cry all over again.

"Please, please. You're so pretty, so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to rule with me. Only you. Only you." He repeats it like a mantra, like you were some goddess, some deity, and this was his pathetic attempt at a prayer and if he rehearsed it over enough, you'd give in.

You gasp when his legs buckle beneath him, the weight of everything suddenly all to heavy to hold as he collapses to the ground with a thud, groveling on his knees with desperate hands that slide down your waist along with him, tugging at your clothes like a petulant child that clings to their mothers leg when they don't get their way as a last resort.

"Why? Just... Why? I've done everything for you. Fucking everything! You're just— You're impossible." He rants, voice fluctuating upwards between quick yells and then back down to that pathetic, raspy pleading tone he had worn like a mask just moments before.

"You don't understand. You— Fuck! I could give you everything. Everything, anything! Anything you want. Don't you want that? Me? Forever?" He doesn't give you the space to answer his questions as he chokes on sobs and coughs out cries, rushing out his words before another sound threatens to squeeze his throat and make speaking an impossible feat.

Mark pauses for a moment, looking down at your feet before going silent as if trying to find something else he can say that will work to convince you, because his mindless begging doesnt seem to be working all that well. And when he still can't find any other tactics to use, he lets out a frustrated half groan, half yell. "Please?! Just say yes. that's all you have to do. Why can't you just— Fuck, please. I need you s'bad, I can't... Just say yes. And then we can— I can be done with this... shit!" he curses profusely, looking up at you with eyes that swim with a toxic mixture of violence and a boyish innocence as he begs and begs and begs you all over again.

"I can take care of you, I promise! Why are being you so difficult? You'd be—You'd be so much happier with me." Anyone would be accepting of this offer, especially when the world outside your bedroom was in ruins. But his words fade into distant sounds that you stop paying attention to as you begin to think.

He's stubborn. Too stubborn for the likes of you, and you realize as his gaze meets yours when you look down at him that you're impossibly outmatched here. You realize he's not going to give up. he just won't, that's not something he does. It's not how Marks brain is wired to work. He'll keep trying and trying and trying to sway you, persuade you, convince you. He'll do whatever it takes.

"Okay. Fine." You exhale finally with a shakey breath, and he looks up at you with pleading eyes at the realization that you're finally giving in. Finally accepting his offer. "I— Yes, fine. Okay? Just.. Stop, Mark. Please." You say it to appease him, but you're quick to realize you've just signed a lifelong contract.

But you think, if only for a moment before he sweeps you off your feet in a kiss, that this is his way of showing you—Despite how sick, twisted, and in the full sense of the word... Fucked up... That he loves you. In his own demented way.

[almostwisegalaxy]

PLEEEEASE DO MORE SEONGJE HEADCANONS IF YOU HAVE THEM

씨발(Shibal)...

Geum Seongje x fem!reader

The reader has a shy character in this story

..................................................................................

It wasn't that cold that night, but the asphalt smelled of rust. Geum Seong-je sat on a bench, looking vacant, a limp cigarette stuck between his teeth, almost completely burned out. He wasn't even really smoking it. His eyes followed the car headlights like flies around a bulb.

The screech of tires, the screams, the dull thud of a body being thrown, none of it made him move. It had happened right in front of him. He had turned his head, cast a lazy glance, seen a figure mowed down on the ground. He had cursed under his breath.

He hadn't snapped out of his torpor to help her. Not out of shock, not out of fear. He just didn't give a damn. But he had called the ambulance. Out of habit, maybe, or because he didn't want the hassle of a non-assistance investigation. He wasn't there to play the hero; he just wanted to be left alone.

But that face. Pale. Frozen. That face had disturbed him. Not because he found it beautiful or innocent. But because he hated seeing something broken, weak, fragile. And that girl, Y/N, was all of that, at that moment.

He found himself at the hospital, standing, leaning against the window of her room, watching her, unconscious, connected to tubes. He was going to leave, do what he always did: ignore the consequences. But as he was about to turn on his heel, the nurse called out to him.

"You're not going to leave her alone, not now. She talked about you in her sleep. 'My love,' that's what she said. It's you, isn't it?"

He had burst out laughing. Dry, humorless. He had wanted to deny it. But the police were already there, the rumors, the eyes fixed on him as if he were the reason for her accident. He had felt suffocated. So he had lied.

"Yeah. It's me .She's my girl..."

***

The following days were a punishment. For him. For her. He had to come back every day, bring things. Romantic crap: disgusting stuffed animals, candies, little notes folded into hearts. He had grabbed everything from the most cliché shops in town. And he called Y/N "jagiya," "yeobo," or even "my little bunny" with that drawling voice, twisted with sarcasm. But his gaze remained that of a madman, hungry, unstable.

He hid nothing. Neither his fights, nor his offenses, nor the scars on his fists. He even showed them, barely concealed under dirty bandages. He wanted her to be afraid. To understand who he was. To look at him with horror. He needed that fear to exist.

But what really haunted him was what it did to him. This feeling of being expected. Even if it was based on a damn misunderstanding. Even if she had never seen him before. He had started watching her sleep longer than necessary. He noticed the movements of her hands under the sheets, her lips that moved when she dreamed. He hated it. He hated feeling connected to someone.

A week after the accident, she had woken up.

"Who are you?" she had asked, her voice trembling.

He had dropped the water bottle he was handing her.

— Shibal... Are you serious? You sleep for eight days, moan my name like a lovelorn child, and now you're looking at me like a fucking stranger?

She had curled up. He had felt that fear. It ran through him. And it made him smile, a smile that was anything but tender. But inside, it turned his stomach. He felt dirty. Awkward. He didn't know how to get out of this mess.

He had kept coming. Every day. He brought the most ridiculous flowers, the most absurd declarations scribbled on Post-it notes, teen magazines, bags of cookies. He played the game. With an unhealthy intensity. Because he had never had this. Someone to see. Someone who looks at him, even with fear.

But it wasn't love. Not yet. It was need. Panic. As if she were the only thing that could keep the mess he was on a leash. He wasn't nice. He wasn't romantic. He was twisted. He was getting attached in the wrong way. He was becoming possessive before he even had the right to anything.

***

One day, she had said to him:

"I don't want you to come back."

He had replied, his teeth clenched:

"You don't get a say, jagi. They believe me, not you. You want me to leave? Then explain to them that I'm an asshole. Go on. Look them in the eyes and tell them you're all alone. You want that? Huh?"

She had said nothing. She couldn't. And he had clung to that silence like a rope.

Geum Seong-je didn't understand himself. He fought in the streets because he had never learned to talk. He lied because he had never trusted anything. He got angry with her because she was calm. Because she was gentle. Because everything about her reminded him of what he would never be.

But he was there. Every day. Sitting in the chair next to her bed. He ate her cookies, he sometimes fell asleep listening to the beeping of the machines. He expected nothing. Just for it to last a little longer.

The hospital had become his world. And Y/N, his fixation. It wasn't a fairy tale, it was a cell. And in his deranged mind, it was almost enough.

---

He refused to leave.

Y/N had asked him, even begged him, one morning when the pale sun filtered through the hospital blinds, but he had remained rooted there, staring at her with his split, distorted smile that never reached his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? You're the one who landed me here, jagiya. You're the one who got me into this mess. So now you deal with it."

She had turned her face away, trying to ignore him, as if that could make him disappear. But Seong-je wasn't a draft. He was a sticky, insistent presence, like an oil stain on a white tablecloth.

When the nurses passed by, he resumed his act. He laughed, offered her stuffed animals, strawberry chewing gum, little notes that he read aloud, punctuating them with saccharine nicknames.

"You remember when we stole that bike together, huh, yeobo? That was our first couple adventure, wasn't it?"

And when they moved away, his gaze changed. He leaned towards her, his sour breath on her cheek.

"Don't play smart with me. Say one more time that you want me to leave, and I swear you'll really know what it means to be alone."

He knew exactly when the staff changed shifts, which corridors were empty, which stolen moments he could use to whisper vile threats in her ear. He didn't need to shout. He inflicted pain with a few words, spoken softly.

"I have your first name. Your address. Your life, now, belongs to me. You wanted to put on a show by calling me in your sleep? You thought there would be no consequences? Well, here they are. You've earned yourself a monster, my dear."

Y/N tried to sit up in bed when she had the strength. Sometimes she struggled to reach the call button, but he would discreetly unplug it before anyone could see. Just to silence her.

"Come on, rest," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I don't want them to think you're hysterical, you know. It's not good for you."

He had to be careful. The cops kept coming by. Twice already, they had come to ask questions. First about the accident. Then about him. He played the desperate lover perfectly—a tear in the corner of his eye, stories of pseudo-memories with Y/N, a trembling voice when he spoke of his "fear of losing her."

"I'm just here for her, that's all," he had said to one of them, his hand placed over his heart. "We haven't always been an easy couple, but she's my world."

And it worked.

It worked because people preferred slightly dark love stories to disturbing truths. It worked because he knew how to manipulate silences, how to shed tears at will, how to create an illusion credible enough to be believed.

But with Y/N, he wasn't acting.

With her, he was what he truly was: unstable, violent, possessive. He swung between a distorted tenderness and an icy rage. One day, he brought macarons; the next, he smashed a bouquet against the wall when she wasn't looking.

He resented her. For what she had triggered. For the space she occupied in his head. For this obsession he couldn't control. He felt trapped, and his only way out was her.

"You can't push me away. You don't have the right. Not after what you made me believe. Now you put up with me. You endure me, just like I endure myself every damn day."

He sometimes slept in the armchair, his body tense, his arms crossed. Sometimes, he would get up in the middle of the night and stand, leaning over her, watching her. For a long time. Too long.

And in the morning, he would resume his act. Smile. Wink. Silly little nickname.

And when no one was watching:

"If you say one wrong word, I swear I'll make a scene. They think I'm the perfect boyfriend. You're just a fragile little girl. You know who they'll believe."

And the worst part was, he was right.

---

The days in the hospital dragged by with a devouring slowness, and Seong-je had had enough of every second spent in that sterile room, with Y/N lying on her bed, unconscious of everything happening around her. But it was even worse when she was awake. The heavy air of the room seemed strangely more oppressive. Every sigh he let out, every movement he made, seemed as desperate as it was useless. He felt suffocated, invisible in that overly silent room.

But a nightmare repeated itself every night. A nightmare that was gradually turning into an unbearable obsession.

Y/N was all he had. All he believed he had. And every night, he saw her leave. Not in an explosion of light or in a grand theatrical act. No. Y/N left in a much simpler, much more destructive way. She would look at him one last time, without emotion, then turn and disappear into the void. He couldn't hold her back, he couldn't even move. He was frozen, paralyzed in his own nightmare. And with each awakening, anguish washed over him, an irrepressible fear that dug even deeper into his twisted mind.

He was tired of feeling this way, of drowning in this inner void. So, he had hurt himself. Nothing serious, just enough to get Y/N's attention. It wasn't suffering he sought, but the moment when he would finally become real to her. He had slammed his fist against the bathroom wall until there was blood, and when he saw the red staining his skin, he had felt a little more alive. The taste of iron in his mouth, the burning pain, all of it had become almost… comforting. Then he had waited.

He had appeared in Y/N's room, a blank expression on his face, his wounds barely bandaged. He said nothing, he didn't move, just there, in the shadow of his own desire.

Y/N had woken up to muffled sounds. She had turned her head, her eyes blurry, and had seen him. He was there, sitting next to her, holding his arm where the blood had formed a small pool. He looked like nothing was wrong. But she… she couldn't ignore it.

He was looking at her. He had that look, both pleading and threatening, a mixture that no one else could understand. For a second, he had thought she would push him away again. For a second, he had thought he was too broken, too dirty for her to still pity him. But no, she had sat up, her face marked by fear and worry.

"Seong-je! What are you doing? You're hurt?!"

She had rushed towards him, panic in her movements. She had grabbed his arm, scrutinizing his wound as if the whole world depended on knowing he was safe. He could feel her fingers trembling on his skin. He could hear her short breaths. And he felt… loved. Not in a normal way, no. But it was enough.

"It's nothing," he had replied in a hoarse voice, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. "Just a little accident."

Y/N hadn't replied immediately. She had lowered her eyes to his hand, still tightly gripping his arm. He could see her fingers closing a little tighter, as if to make sure he wouldn't disappear. She had slid up his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the wound. Her eyes were hard, focused, almost overwhelmed.

"But why did you do that? Why are you… Why are you still here, Seong-je? Why?"

The words had flowed from her lips, but he hadn't answered immediately. He felt almost trapped in the tenderness she was offering him without really meaning to. She was there, worried about him, touching his arm as if it were the most precious thing she had.

"Because you won't let me leave," he had murmured. "Because you gave me something. And I'm going to hold onto it."

He had seen the look she gave him, hesitant, confused, full of guilt. He wasn't sure she understood. But he knew. She was worried. And that was all he needed to feel that love could exist, even in this twisted version of himself.

But he didn't have time to think further. A nurse, a young trainee, entered the room. Her name was Joo-hyun ,made up like a failed idol, and she didn't seem to notice that Y/N was awake. She approached Seong-je, who was still standing in that strange position, and began to speak to him without paying attention.

"You're really stubborn, you know, aren't you? Not wanting anyone to touch you, and now you have another wound to take care of."

She spoke in a slightly casual, almost flirtatious tone, settling near him. Joo-hyun hadn't noticed that Y/N was awake, and she leaned a little too close to Seong-je, as if it were nothing special.

But Y/N had noticed. Every word Joo-hyun spoke, every movement she made towards him, all of it ignited an anger that Y/N didn't understand. She sat up slowly, her gaze hardening. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. She knew it wasn't an innocent gesture. Not in this room.

Joo-hyun looked so carefree, too self-assured, too familiar with him. She had gently caressed Seong-je's shoulder, and her fingers had slipped a little too low, lingering on his skin. Y/N felt heat spread through her, but it wasn't the warmth of desire. It was a fever of anger, of frustration.

Without warning, Y/N stood up, looking tense, almost threatening.

"You… you should leave," she said, her voice louder, more authoritative than usual.

Joo-hyun jumped, raising her eyes to her, surprised by the coldness in her voice. Seong-je, for his part, watched silently, as if a strange smile was slowly spreading across his lips.

"What?" Joo-hyun asked, a little lost.

"I told you to leave. Right now," Y/N replied, her voice sharp.

Joo-hyun hesitated, then straightened up. A last furtive glance at Seong-je and she turned on her heel, leaving the room without a word.

Y/N sat back down on the edge of the bed. She didn't really understand why she had reacted that way. But what she had felt was something new. A feeling she had never had before. Jealousy. An emotion that was completely foreign to her.

She turned her gaze to Seong-je, who was still there, silent, his eyes fixed on her. It wasn't love. It wasn't even compassion. It was just… a need. A possession. She was afraid of it. And at the same time, something inside her tightened, a discomfort she couldn't identify.

Seong-je looked at her, then, as if nothing had happened, leaned towards her and whispered:

"Thank you. That's love, you know. The kind I can get. The kind you give me without meaning to."

She shivered at his words, but this time, she didn't react. She simply let herself be invaded by this strange sensation which, little by little, was making Seong-je someone more than he seemed. Someone essential.

And in Seong-je's tormented mind, this moment was just one small step further towards what he believed to be his own love. A love he would impose. A love she would never be able to get rid of again.

---

Seong-je no longer knew exactly when obsession had taken over everything else. When the anguish of losing her had become that black fire, that creeping thing that scratched at every corner of his mind. Maybe at the hospital, or even before. But one thing was certain: from the moment Y/N had placed her hands on him, worried, desperate to know if he was alright, something had broken for good within him.

It wasn't love. Not really. It was deeper, darker. A morbid need. He didn't want her to love him. He wanted her to need no one but him. To breathe only through him. For every beat of her heart to be linked to him. It was the only way he knew how to love. It had to hurt.

When Y/N finally left the hospital, she expected Seong-je to disappear. Maybe not immediately, but that he would understand, with time. But she saw him in the lobby, as if everything were perfectly normal. He was there, sitting calmly at a table, signing the discharge papers. As if he were her husband, her guarantor, her everything.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hesitant.

He turned to her with that small, split smile, the one she never knew how to interpret.

"I reassured them. I'm taking you home. You're my girlfriend, remember?"

He gently, almost tenderly, brought his hand to hers and intertwined their fingers. Like an ordinary scene between two lovers. But Y/N couldn't ignore that strange pressure in her chest. A suffocating sensation.

He had accompanied her home. She had expected him to leave afterwards. He had even said goodbye, a kiss on her forehead. And she had believed, truly believed, that he would go.

But Seong-je had returned.

That same evening, he had come back, his arms full. A few personal belongings, a worn travel bag, and groceries. As if he planned to stay for a long time.

"I... I have nowhere to go. And with the storm approaching, it's dangerous outside. Just a few days, okay?"

She hadn't answered. He had already entered. He already knew where the kitchen was, where to put the dishes, where to place his clothes. As if he already lived there.

The storm broke that night. Howling winds, driving rain, lightning streaking across the sky. And Y/N found herself stuck with him. Alone. Trapped. The perfect closed-door setting for the emotional tension that had been building for days.

But Seong-je, for his part, was calm. Almost too calm. He prepared food, chopping vegetables with military precision. Y/N had never said she liked spicy tofu dishes. But she had confided in a nurse once, half-asleep, thinking no one was listening. He had listened. He always listened.

They ate in silence, their fingers occasionally brushing. Heavy silences, followed by glances that lingered too long. Sometimes their arms touched, and she didn't pull away. Sometimes her eyes lingered on his lips, and she turned her head. Until he kissed her.

A kiss that was initially soft, almost clumsy. Then more intense. As if he wanted to bite her, devour her. And she, lost between confusion and attraction, hadn't known how to react. She hadn't managed to say no. Not right away.

But the storm hadn't only carried away the rain. It had unleashed another tornado, far more dangerous.

They were in the living room, the lightning barely visible behind the curtains. Y/N wanted to talk, to set boundaries. But he had approached with a step that was too assured. And she had backed away.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

"No... I just want some space, Seong-je. You're not supposed to be here."

He had laughed. A dry, slightly bitter laugh.

"You always say that when you feel like you might love someone. You're afraid of yourself, not me."

"That's not true."

"Oh no? Didn't you see yourself at the hospital, worried about me, as if your life depended on it? You kicked that nurse out just because she touched my arm."

He moved closer again.

"I need you, Y/N. And you know you need me too."

"This isn't... healthy."

"Maybe it's not healthy. But it's real. You can feel it."

He placed a hand on the back of her neck, gently. But there was strength in that touch.

"You think you can forget me? I'm in your apartment. In your head. You still breathe in my scent on your sheets. Every time you close your eyes, I'm there."

"You're manipulating me."

"No. I'm just revealing what you're hiding. You didn't reject me when I kissed you. You wanted it. You still do."

His words were like needles. And she had nothing to say. Because deep down, a part of her wanted to believe he was right. A tiny part, lost, wounded.

And that night, as the storm continued to beat against the walls of the apartment, they found themselves entwined on the sofa, between hatred and passion, between fear and desire. Prisoners of a love that wasn't supposed to exist, but that consumed them, slowly, dangerously.

..................................................................................

New Geum Seongje fanfictions

Okay... She has a Trespassers in her house. But maybe she has this kind of view in the morning.

(⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

@mariii-0001