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#yandere junior
suiana · 2 years
Note
hi hi :)) how about yan senior and yan junior fighting for reader?? and after a while fighting for reader they decide to just share reader? i can see yan senior as a possesive and obsessive(maybe sadistic too?) while yan junior is the type of worshipping and delusional?? idk its up to you tbh
/⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\ anon
sounds cool!
✎ yandere! senior and junior headcanons . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― obsessiveness, possessiveness, nsfw, stalking, delusional yandere, manipulation etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! senior who is actually related to yandere! junior. god damnit, why does his cousin have to be in his school?!
✎ yandere! senior who tries to keep yandere! junior away from you. no, no, NO! his disgusting cousin is going to take away his pet! his! pet!
✎ yandere! junior who is just happy to be with you. he just wishes his older cousin would've found someone else to be possessive over. he really doesn't want to share his lovely angel :(
✎ yandere! senior who is absolutely infuriated and jealous about the relationship between you and his younger cousin. why'd he have to transfer to his school now?! why is he so close to you?! why do you dote on him so much?! it should be him! him!
✎ yandere! senior who constantly fights with yandere! junior, with you being the main subject of their fights. like fuck, yandere! junior is trying to steal you away from him isn't he?! yandere! junior likes to rile him up too, show you how much of a possesive shit yandere! senior is hehe <3
✎ yandere! junior who keeps his innocent facade in the presence of you and others. like aw, protect your junior please y/n! this big meanie is harassing the both of you again :"(
✎ yandere! junior who realises that you're uncomfortable with their constant fighting. so he suggests to yandere! senior to share you.
✎ yandere! senior who is initially reluctant to agree but discovers that yandere! junior is actually pretty insane too. like omg, he did not expect to see his younger cousin in your room in the dead of night as well...
✎ yandere! senior who comes to a truce with yandere! junior. they'll just share you, he guesses. after all, they are still cousins. they're family! he still has some of that familial love to share his beloved pet with his cousin.
✎ yandere! junior who doesn't actually care what yandere! senior does. all he wants to do is just be with you ♡ you're his angel after all <3 all he needs in life is you!!<3
✎ yandere! senior who is still salty about this arrangement but doesn't really mind much anymore. at least yandere! junior worships you, like you were meant to be. his cute pet, his perfect pet <3 you were meant to be worshipped since the day you were born ♡
✎ yandere! senior and yandere! junior who work together to keep you safe and sound, away from the troubles and terrors of modern day life. if you thought that having one of them was crazy, enjoy having two! two is better than one after all :)
✎ "my pet/my angel, we love you ♡"
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yandere--stuck · 8 months
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if you have any more thoughts on the Joker Junior extending the family take I'd love to hear them!! Would J be interested in having Nightwing with them? Or Alfred? I'm not sure how well either of them would take to the venom, but if they have Batman anything's possible
Less ideas and more of an actual fic, oopsie!
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Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks without Tim. Three weeks of hoping beyond all hope that he was somehow fine. That they'd all look back on this and laugh.
But, no. Eventually, Bruce was able to get word that The Joker and Harley had holed themselves up in the abandoned Arkham Asylum, and something in his gut that made him sick knew there was some correlation.
Part of him hadn't wanted Barbara to come along, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop her even if he tried. So, the two of them traversed through the crumbling asylum together and followed the echoing sound of Harley's voice singing a lullaby.
“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,
And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring….”
Closer, closer. It took both of them every bit of will they had not to sprint through the halls as fast as their legs could carry them. As Harley’s voice grew even louder, Barbara split up to find another way in while Bruce took the lead. His heart nearly leapt from his chest with anticipation as he closed in on her location.
“And if that diamond ring is brass,
Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,
And if that looking glass gets broke-”
The moment Harley saw him burst through the double doors, she perked up, greeting Bruce with a smile. She was cradling a flower vase in her arms, which she set down onto a covered table. Craning her neck, she shouted over her shoulder. “Puddin’, Hubby's home!”
Bruce’s eyes followed Harley’s gaze, spotting Joker on the second floor where he rested on a recliner. With a flourish, The Clown rose to his feet, turning away from his rabbit-eared television set and popping a pipe from his mouth, tossing it aside. 
“Well, hello, dear!” Joker strolled down the stairs, stopping just shy of Batman. He wrapped an arm around Harley, the two of them smiling sweetly at their bat. “Welcome home.”
Bruce all but snarled in their faces, leaning close and baring his teeth. “Where's Robin?”
Both clowns shared a quizzical look.
“Robin?” Joker repeated with a quirk of his head. “There's no Robin here!”
“Maybe he means our little J,” Harley offered.
The Clown Prince of Crime snapped his fingers. “Of course! That's it.”
Meeting the Bat's eyes, smiling back at his scowl, Joker gestured to the other side of the room. To whatever was being concealed behind the large blue curtain. And Bruce couldn't help his rage, shoving the couple aside roughly as he moved to cross the room. 
The Joker stumbled back, recovering with the shake of his head and click of his tongue.  “He must be so stressed out from work.”
“I hate it when he gets like this. He never knows when ta relax,” Harley shook her head and reached underneath the table, pulling out a bazooka from beneath the tablecloth. She fired, and a band of ribbons erupted from the muzzle, knocking Batman to the floor with a hard thud and wrapping him up like a gift - bow and all.
“Good thing he has us. Hmm, now what say we bring this little gift of ours back to the bedroom to unwrap?”
Joker's grin stretched just a little wider as he noticed the movement of Batman's hand - holding it up just so as if to signal someone, just out of eyesight, to stand down. Joker's eyes crinkled. Perfect. He wondered, was it the eldest birdboy? Or maybe they'd be getting two bats with one stone?
“Y'know, Bat's, we've been doing this little run around for years,” Joker spoke again, approaching his prone enemy. “It's been loads of laughs! But the sad fact is - none of us are getting any younger.”
Harley joined his side, patting her stomach. “That ol’ clock's a tickin’!”
“Quite right, Pooh! So, Harley and I were thinking it's about time the three of us finally settled down together.”
“But rather than experiencing the joys of pregnancy, we decided the best way would be to just marry into the family.”
Hand-in-hand, the clowns walked over their Bat's prone form to each rest a hand on the curtain in front of them. 
“But no matter how happy we are to join you, we were a bit disappointed that we didn't really have the chance to nurture them, too,” Joker lamented. “And after all, what better way to officially join the family than to impart a little bit of our personalities to the kiddos? He needed a bit of molding, of course, but-”
The couple yanked on each side of the curtain, the blue cloth sliding and billowing out as it parted - revealing a child strapped to a medical examination table.
“... What kid doesn't?” Joker finished with a grin, drinking in the Dark Knight's reaction. 
Bruce couldn't help the exhale of ‘no’ that left him. Couldn't even blink, too horrified to look away from what had been done to Tim. The horror set in all at once, like freezing water flooding through every nerve in his system.
Joker brought Tim forward with the click of a button, the table rolling forward and bringing the boy into the light. 
Tim...
His face an acid-washed white. His hair an unearthly green. His Robin costume now replaced with an exact recreation of Joker's own suit. And his face… Contorted in a pained smile and his eyes wide and afraid, unblinking.
“Say hello to Dada, JJ,” Joker cooed.
Tim's eyes, seeming to glow red in the light, shifted from Joker to Batman. He leaned further into the light, locking eyes with Bruce, and laughed. He laughed in a way Bruce had never, ever heard before. He unbound himself from the table, leaping to the floor on scrawny legs - God, how much weight had he lost in such a short amount of time. What had they done to his boy?
All at once, the cold shock and dawning horror inside Bruce shifted - and his whole body was alight with rage, like a fire inside threatening to escape through every orifice as he ripped through his bonds. The shout he made was near inhuman, launching a batarang he had cut the ribbons with directly at Joker's head, only for the Clown to dodge it with ease.
Harsh giggles flooded from Joker's throat, wiggling a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before jumping onto the now vacant medical table, rocketing off with the click of a button, causing Bruce to almost stumble and reorient himself to take off after him - and leaving Barbara to deal with Harley.
Giggles bubbled from Tim JJ's throat as he stared unblinkingly down at his father, body crumpled on the floor, cape draped almost protectively over his prone body. And with giddy glee, The Joker Papa J hopped down from the giant building blocks he was perched upon, where he had sliced at Batman and sent him tumbling down only seconds ago.
It was all a blur for Bruce. The chase. The horrific videos of Tim… Tim's torture. Three weeks. Three weeks of that Hell. Electrocution. Beatings. Torment. Starvation. And it was all his fault. He'd failed him. The rage that had filled him nearly completely, made him seen red, had all been snuffed out. 
First Jason. Now Tim. And Bruce still couldn't bring him to end this. His vision swam, and he could barely even focus. Not on Tim. Not on the man who tortured him. But… Wait. Where was-?
With a final hop, Joker landed in front of Batman in a crouch, hovering over him with a sly grin.
“You've lost, Bruce,” He rasped, and just hearing the name on the clown's lips made JJ seize up, his forever-smile momentarily twitching and a flood of nervous giggles escaping him. The clown continued, voice low. “Robin is mine… And now, so are you.” 
And with a hearty heft, Joker lifted Bruce up by the scruff of his cowl and cape, as if presenting him. The grin of his face, the look in his eyes, as he looked down on his enemy. So proud of himself, so smug.
And Bruce. He looked in a daze, lost and beaten. Blood dripped from his lips.
This isn't what Papa promised. He said everything would be okay now. That he'd see Dad and Dick and Babs and Alfred again and he wouldn't be mean or hurt him again, because Papa knew he would be good now…
But when Joker met his eyes, something in them changed - his smile warping to somehow become comforting, happier. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, replaced with an excited shine. And with a free hand, The Clown grabbed for a large gun that looked more like a toy than anything.
“Here ya go, sonny-boy!” He said, tossing the weapon.
JJ scrambled forward to catch it. He couldn't help but notice how light the gun felt as he cradled it in his shaking, gloved hands. For a moment, he couldn't look away.
“Make him one of us,” The Joker urged, voice like a hiss. 
It wasn't a conscious decision to aim the gun. It just happened. Like one minute, JJ was there and gone and back again. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly keep the weapon straight. Could barely even look at him. At the mask. At the man behind it.
“Tim…” Batman breathed. JJ had never heard his voice sound so small.
JJ would swear he couldn't breathe if it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the wheezing, giggling exhales that escaped him as he struggled to calm down. Tears threatened to pool from his eyes.
This wasn't right. But, Papa knows best. He said everything would be okay afterward. He said he wouldn't be punished again. But, he couldn't. But, he couldn't run, either - too scared. Too weak. He wanted to be home. He wanted his family. He wanted to stop crying, to be able to breathe, to run into his fathers’ arms-
“It's alright now, JJ,” The Joker soothed, recapturing the boy's attention. “Just pull the trigger, and everything will be okay.”
JJ wanted his Papa to be telling the truth. He just wanted everything to be okay. He just wanted it all to stop. Bruce, please forgive him.
His finger squeezed around the trigger-
Joker's laugh filled the room, just as a green mist began flooding from the gun’s opening. It spread through the air and quickly covered both men. Joker laughed long and loud as he clung to Batman. He pulled his Bat into an embrace, a smile so bright and wide it made the corners of his mouth rip, as Bruce began to choke and hack.
The man seized up and shook in Joker's arms. Slow at first, but soon trembling and writhing in agony, barely restrained and pained chuckles escaping him. So much hurt flooding through every nerve and system that almost faculties left him. His lungs burned, his face ached, he couldn't feel his extremities and wouldn't have been able to hold himself up without Joker's hold on him. Bruce wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe anymore, but somehow his body found it in itself to betray him, forcing laughter from gritted teeth.
Joker took a knee, gently laying Batman to the ground. The bat spasmed and jerked. Tears began to fall from behind his mask, shining on his cheeks in the light. Gloved hands caressed the sides of Bruce's face. Green eyes glinted in the light as they watched each movement of the other man - every sputter, every gasp, every choked out laugh, every pained, slowly blooming smile that wobbled onto his face.
“You must be so scared, aren't you, sweetheart?” Joker cooed. “You've been scared this whole time, haven't you? Ever since that night in the alleyway...”
Batman didn't reply - couldn't. His eyes crinkled as his smile grew involuntarily. All he could do was return the man's gaze with a manic smile that wasn't his own.
Joker stroked the top of his cowl lovingly. “But it's okay now, Bruce. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to be strong. Don't have to hold yourself back. Me and Harl will build you back up to what you were meant to be. We'll be brave for you now. And do you know why?” 
Bruce couldn't respond. For one, the agony of whatever this was, whatever Joker had planned for him, blotted out almost all thoughts in his mind completely. Could only tremble and writhe and cry and laugh. Laugh. Laugh. The laughing made it hurt just a little less. But he could still barely even register what the other man was saying. What he could register, though, was the image of Joker slowly leaning down to press his lips to Bruce's cloaked forehead.
“Because we love you.” Joker finished.
“Ohhhh, Harley!” Joker's voice rang through the cavernous halls of the abandoned asylum. “Barbie's turn!”
Barbara's stomach sunk to her feet and her heart skipped a beat. Barbie? No. No, there was no way, he could have known her name. Oh God, what happened to Bruce-?
In the middle of her ruminations, Harley caught her by surprise. A jab to the face, the pull of her leg to trip her up leaving her scrambling to correct her fall- only for her to feel hand grasp tightly at the nape of her neck, coiling painfully at the root of her hair. She was shoved onto her stomach, face-to-face with the dirty, cracked tiles of the former asylum’s floor.
“You know what that means! C'mon, Barbie,” Harley grunted, fingers twisting in the roots of her hair. She lunged forward, slamming her face to the floor with a sick crunch. “Let's go party!”
And everything went dark.
… Barbara awoke with a groan. The smell of pennies flooded her nostrils. Her vision was bleary and swam as she struggled to open her eyes.
A dark figure entered her vision from her periphery, and it loomed over a figure clad in purple. And for a moment, just one moment, she allowed herself to hope.
But, that hope crumbled just as quickly as Joker's voice entered her ears. 
“You're okay, Bruce, you're okay, sweetie. You're gonna play nice now, right?”
Barbara couldn't help but shudder at the sound of Bruce's laugh in reply.
Hands found their way to Barbara's hair again, this time much softer. Not grabbing, just brushing and stroking almost soothingly.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey,” Harley sang as she carded her hands through the younger woman's hair. “Y'know, I've always wanted a daughter. A little girl of my own. You think you'd ever want Mama to braid your hair for you? It's so pretty!”
“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Barbie,” Joker greeted. “Your Dad and I were just talking about you. A real chip off the ol’ block. Now all we need is to make it official.”
Barbara watched as Tim approached Bruce, pushing a gun of some kind into his hands. The Batman held it in his hands, smiling down at the weapon - but seemed almost hesitant. Unsure. Like he knew this was wrong. Like the weapon would somehow come alive and bite him.
“Batman, listen to me,” Batgirl pleaded. “Don't do this. Whatever they've done to you, this isn't you.”
“Oh, but it is! And soon it'll be you, too,” Harley corrected, walking back to give herself some distance.
“I know you're torn, Batsy, but I promise this is for the best,” Joker rubbed circles into the other man's back. “We'll all finally be together. Once we get Barbie here, then we'll get Dick and Al. And we'll be a family! They'll never be hurt again. You'll never be hurt again, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen anymore. You'll get your happily ever after. You won't be afraid ever again, I promise.”
Tears stung at Barbara's cheeks as she begged. “Batman, please!”
And for a moment, she thought she somehow got through to him. They locked eyes and Bruce smiled at her with a smile that isn't his own. But, she thought she could see understanding or recognition or something in his eyes, and was sure he'd toss the gun away and start kicking Joker's ass.
But, she was wrong.
With a hiss, green toxin flooded all around her. Even over her screams, the sounds of Joker, Tim, Harley, and Bruce's laughter smothered her completely. And soon after, so did her own.
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faetaiity · 1 year
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As much as I adore yan/turtles, Casey doesn't get as much love as he should. So may I kindly request a yandere casey one shot?
<3 anon
HELLOOOOO I AM BACK (hopefully) FROM THE UNDERWORLD CALLED BURNOUT I wasn't truly able to make a one-shot bc I actually haven't thought about what kind of Yan Casey is, so I think this'll prolly be a Headcanon post with a small story at the end kjgfjlklkgt, sorry :')
✩ Yan! Casey Jones Jr x Gender-Neutral! Reader ✩
Story Format: Mostly Headcanons
TW: Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping, Panic Attacks, Yandere (Obv-) and Mentions of Trauma for Casey
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I feel like Casey would be an (Unintentional) Manipulative, Isolating, and Paranoid Yan
He's heard so much about you from Future! Leo and Mikey in the bad timeline...
You probably let him stay at your apartment while the Turtles set up a room for him
I also feel like the first signs that he's slowly downwardly spiraling into toxic love is when you try to leave the apartment for work/school/errands
He flips his shit, still in the Apocalypse mindset of 'Don't go alone, you'll fucking die via the Kraang'
He has a panic attack, and you have to stay to help him because he is sobbing and begging you not to leave
He calms down after a bit, clinging to you as he begs you to stay for a bit more, or take him with you
He can keep you safe, you say you can defend yourself but he's adamant
He doesn't tell you why he freaks out when you leave specifically, but it's traumatic for him knowing you died in his timeline
If you end up staying, it's kind of like when you reinforce a dog's bad behavior, they'll do it more, thinking you will comply
Anytime you try to leave without him now, he sobs crocodile tears and begs you not to, it's gotten so bad that he doesn't even have the panic attacks anymore, he's faking it knowing you'll stay if he makes you believe he is.
He finds you trying to comfort him a euphoric situation, furthering his "love"
If you call his bluff, he'll immediately go back to actual panic attacks though
He gets defensive if you have any friends over that aren't April or the Turtles
He doesn't trust them, his memories of the Apocalypse made him wary of almost everyone, he's seen other survivors kill those he loves or knew from the Resistance
He can't let you meet a similar fate in this timeline
If you're a push-over, this can boil over into him being wary of everyone except Michelangelo and Leonardo
It's awful at that point, he has bad panic attacks (Both real and Faked) if anyone comes into the house that isn't Leo or Mikey
Once his room at the Lair is ready, he refuses to go, freaking out that he won't be with you and you will be alone
at this point, it's clear to everyone that he's extremely dependent and attached to you, almost to the hip at this point
He didn't have time for relationships in the Apocalypse, this can both be an Advantage and a Disadvantage
He doesn't know what's the "right" way to love someone romantically and is immediately overbearing and panicky
But he also doesn't have the belief that you would lie to him, you're someone who can be trusted, why would you lie to him?
You'd have to come up with a good lie, like needing to take a shower alone (This is especially good if you have issues with sensory input regarding showers)
Better hope your Bathroom has a window if you use that lie.
If he finds out you lied to him, game over, he's throwing an absolute FIT
Sobbing, screaming, hyperventilating
The whole nine yards man
He won't believe you ever again, even if what you're saying is true
Goodluck, bro is gonna be watching you pee or something, yuck.
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You had lied to Casey, you don't know how he didn't deny your request, but you aren't complaining
You see yourself as one lucky bastard right now.
Turning on the cold water as a distraction, you stare at the tiny window, also known as your ticket to getting the fuck out of here,
Climbing on top of the toilet, you part the small private curtains blocking creeps from seeing you do your business, opening the window you try to find a good way to fit through it while making as little noise as possible
Hard task when you're trying to fit through a window the size of two desk drawers.
You fit your head through the window, eagerly pulling your body through until you hear Casey knocking on the door
Fuck.
"{Y/N}? Are you alright?" He asked, his voice sounded concerned and mildly bored, like he wanted to be in there with you.
You don't know what to say, as a heave of air would give away what you're doing.
Trying to get through the window quicker, his knocks become more frantic, as he attempted to turn the doorknob, but was stopped halfway due to the lock
Halfway through the window, you hear him trying to beat the door down, you panic and try to hurry up your pace, abandoning the attempt at being quiet
As you get your knees on the hard steel of the fire escape, you scream as you feel him yank you back into the bathroom, you didn't realize quick enough, and were dragged onto the hard tile floor within seconds before you could attempt to resist
Crying from the stinging pain of hitting the tile floor, you look up and see Casey, his face red with anger and tears streaming down his face
"Why?! Why were you trying to run?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?!" he screeched, he's shaking from the anger and hysteria he's feeling
You flinch from his loud voice, unsure of what to do now, he's staring at you before grabbing your hand and trying to gently get you up, which seems out of character as he's literally crying in anger
You don't get up willingly, which makes him resort to just picking you up and walking into your bedroom, setting you on the bed as he pulled out a pair of cuffs, panic jolts through your body as he cuffs you to the bedpost, he heaves a sigh
"Now think about what you've done, what you've done to damage our relationship.... I need to go cool off...."
He walks out of the bedroom, leaving you there for what will feel like hours.
You just had to listen to him, and would've been happier, now look at what you've done
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yakup23 · 4 months
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dearest-painter · 1 year
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The lizard attacks Junior!Readers school. Hobie accidentally calls them by there nickname. Miguel now knows where the spider-person.
(Please May you make this a one-shot? If not that’s ok! Love your work!)
Thanks Anon!
TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive relationship, abusive behavior, Junior!Reader knows NO PEACE, Hobie didn’t mean to call them out because he thought they were alone, PEOPLE ALMOST DIE BECAUSE OF LIZARDS BITCH ASS, tell me if I need to add more
Summary:In every spider world, there will always be villains trying to destroy the city no matter what. No matter how many times their spider-man or women stops them they’ll always attack, sometimes it reveals who they are
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It all happened so fast, everyone was running and screaming. The lizard just attacked your school for no damn reason. You and Hobie were hiding and both of you were pretty sure you were alone. “Spidey, go get that alligators ass, I’ll try and get everyone out of here” “Thanks hob” You were already in your suit as you put in your mask then left so that it didn’t seem suspicious. Hobie immediately went to get people out of the school before shit goes down.
Miguel was surprised..your Spider-Man/women? Is that why your so tired and failing his class? “O’Hara we gotta go now!” Miguel nodded as he and Hobie left the area. “COME ON! WHY ARE YOU SUCH A PRICK IN THE ASS GECKO!” “I AM A LIZARD!” “POTATO PATOTO!” They watched as Spider-man/women and the lizard fought. Hobie was smiling, you always were amazing and the fact your able to beat that lizards ass amazes him even more! Miguel was shocked as this explains so much now.
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187onacop · 5 months
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Gatewayz Presentz* Ladiee Huslaa* Spaz* Collection* Album --->Coldest Summer<--- July2024 Includes Hit Singles
🔥 #lit
🔥 #future
🔥 #hashtag
🔥 #notip
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🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
❄️❄️❄️❄️
🥶Coldest Summer🥵 snatch a copy @
👇👇🏾👇🏾👇🏿👇🏼👇🏻👇🏻👇🏿
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david-davis12 · 3 months
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Buy TikTok Likes
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suiana · 2 years
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hi hi what about yan junior??? maybe reader help him a few times such as helping him goes to the principal office or shows him where his class would be. and hes in love and thinks that actually reader likes him too (aka being delusional)
thank you and have a nice day!
with love
/⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\ anon
I love all of your requests anon! theyre all so cute^^
✎ yandere! junior headcanons . . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― delusional yandere, manipulation, stalking etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! junior who just recently entered the school. he's a clumsy little thing and he gets lost easily :( this school is just so much bigger than his previous one!
✎ yandere! junior who first met you after he dropped his materials all over the ground. no one but you helped him! you're such a lovely angel<3
✎ yandere! junior who becomes obsessed with you, absolutely hysterical and drunk on love.
✎ yandere! junior who uses his innocent facade to get you to help him out more. come on senior- won't you help a poor boy out? he's even tearing up :(
✎ yandere! junior who initially stalks you around campus and then decides to go to the next level and stalk you during your after school hours ♡ he's being such a thoughtful junior and future boyfriend!
✎ yandere! junior who breaks into your house at night when everyone is asleep. god, that's his most favourite time of the day. indulging in your scent in the presence of you, his angel! sometimes even going as far as sniffing your used clothing and underwear. you smell just as good as you look!
✎ yandere! junior who endears himself to your friends while acting lovey dovey with you when you guys are together, hoping someone would mistake you two for a couple.
✎ yandere! junior who would become anything you want. after all, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he wasn't perfect for you?
✎ "senior~ could you help me? I don't really understand this..."
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sooniessoulmate · 4 months
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𝔻𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 - 𝕔𝕙.𝟙𝟟 - 𝕟𝕔𝕥 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕦
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𝕔𝕙.𝟙𝟞 | 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕔𝕙.𝟙𝟠
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𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙𝟟 : 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟
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𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕧 | 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥
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𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥
❈★ 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 ★❈
@conwunder
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norbertoll · 11 months
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me dio hepatitis:(
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping
PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions
fem reader
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You went cold and forgot how to breathe.
When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 
She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.
Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 
With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.
But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.
“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”
Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.
“Come on,” he urged.
You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.
“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”
You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.
You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”
“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”
“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”
“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”
“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”
Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 
“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”
You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.
“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”
You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.
You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.
“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.
You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.
“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”
“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.
“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”
You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”
You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.
“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”
Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 
“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”
You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.
When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.
“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”
You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 
But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.
It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”
None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”
What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 
And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.
The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.
“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.
You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.
You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.
You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 
“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.
“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 
You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.
“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”
The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.
And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.
“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 
He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.
“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”
You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.
He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 
“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.
You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.
He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.
You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.
You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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allurilove · 1 month
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Teenager Yandere Husband x teenager you
“What would happen if you went to the same school as him?”
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Rated 16 + — regular ol’ short content !
Teen!Yandere Husband had a major scene phase starting sophomore year. It was his way of saying ‘fuck you’ to his old man, and he started to grow as his own person. He was finally able to express himself in a way his father tried to repress. His father was interested in fashion, creating multiple pieces and clothing that had made it to the runways, but he made sure teen!yandere husband looked proper. Not dressing him in the eccentric and world stopping outfits his father was known for, but the cookie cutter boy you see in those movies about snobby rich people. His dad thought his new bright hair was hideous, and when he started to cut up holes in his jeans— he got a whooping that night. That didn’t stop teen!yandere husband, it only fueled him to go all out. He had black eyeliner on his waterline, multiple rhinestone belts on his hips, and wore long striped socks with his boots. He donated all of his old polo shirts, cream white sweaters, and traded his name brand shoes for a pair of converses.
Teen!Yandere Husband enjoyed listening to My Chemical Romance, 3OH!3, and Get Scared. He had all of their latest music downloaded onto his mp3 player, and he listened to it with his girlfriend at the time. They both shared an earbud, and his arm was around her shoulders. She was just the type of girl he liked: she had those skunk extensions in her hair, long eyelashes, fishnets on her arms, and she smelled like a record store (idk if that’s a compliment). But alas, all mildly good things came to an end when he was broken up with. She wanted an alternative man by her side, and he wasn’t enough for her.
Teen!Yandere Husband started to grow out his hair junior year. He had to constantly brush his bangs out of his face, blowing at the strands whenever they poked at his eyes. He was this tall six foot two guy, bumping into people in the hallways with his wide shoulders. And he had an attitude. He didn’t apologize, just grunting out a ‘watch it’ before he stomped his way to his class. Teen!yandere husband also picked fights with anyone that tried to comment on his appearance. He knew how to throw a mean punch, and he learned it all from his great aunt. Breaking peoples noses and fingers were easier than he thought, and getting away with it was just as sweet than the thrill he felt. His father made constant excuses for teen!yandere husband, saying that it was just a phase and he was just a boy, and if that didn’t work… well a gracious donation would be sent to the school.
Teen!Yandere Husband got his dick pierced the summer before senior year. It was a risky move, his father was already on the brink of snapping at him and kicking him to the curb. But, thankfully his aunt was cool about it, and signed the paperwork. While he was at it, he got his ears and belly button done too.
Teen!Yandere Husband noticed you around senior year. He was cleaning up his ‘bad boy’ act, trying to get on people’s good side before the year ended. While he was on his apology tour, he saw you sitting at the library alone. He doesn’t remember if he had done anything horrible to you, and if he did, he would absolutely beat himself up for it. He was about to approach you, but then he suddenly remembered his appearance, and was self conscious about the way he looked. Who would love to be with a mess of a man like him? Surely, you already had people lining up to be with you.
Teen!Yandere Husband made his first move by asking you to sign his yearbook. You had made him nervous. Just your presence alone was making him sweat. He held brief eye contact with you when he asked, leaning against the white bricked wall with a blush to his cheeks. His voice soft and yet baritone, and he held up the yearbook for you to write your name in.
“Ah yeah… I think we had like one class together? With that really grumpy man that’s about to retire soon.”
You smiled, a little snort coming from you. He watched you add a little heart into your name. “You’re gonna have to be specific. That’s like half the teachers here.”
“You know,” he was totally talking out of his ass, “the teach that shakes his fist whenever he sees teens running down the halls.”
“Really? That’s odd. I never had a male teacher.”
“W-What? Oh-“ he gulped, adverting his eyes towards the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and he awkwardly shifted between his weight. “Maybe I’m misremembering things.”
“If we took a class together… I definitely would have remembered.”
That left him speechless. Did you mean that in a good way?
“You’re sort of hard to forget… you kind of look like Sam Monroe from Life as a House.” you bit your lip, and your eyes took in the sight of his dark but colorful clothing. He had this scent that made him smell like fresh rain and wood.
He hadn’t seen that movie, but he was gonna guess on a whim that might’ve been your way of saying he’s … cute?
Teen!Yandere Husband got your number and followed you around all summer. He was actually shy when he got to hang out with you outside of school. Hours before he met you, he walked back and forth in front of his mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk before the hangout. He wasn’t this nervous before, and he started to fret about his appearance. He had put on his best jeans, clean shoes, and the classic sort of fancy tee. He picked you up in his red corvette, playing music from the radio incase you didn’t like what he usually listened to. He was determined to make this “hang out that’s totally not a date” perfect.
Teen!Yandere Husband casually paid for your things, and opened all the doors for you. He totally thought he was winning in the ‘gentleman’ department. He gave you compliments that teetered between the lines of flirtation, and just being friendly. He actively listened to whatever you had told him, making mental notes to bring them up in later conversations. That seemed to make you happy. You two had stopped by a carnival he coincidentally had tickets for. He tried his hardest to help you at any game, and he was pretty good at throwing darts. He happily smiled for whatever photo booth you brought him into, not once complaining when you wanted to use props.
Teen!Yandere Husband had genuinely smiled whenever he was around you. You just made life better. You were his little comedian, his best friend that’ll he never forget.
Full fics: these fics are an aged up version of yandere husband obvs, and it contains smut.
#1 #2 #3 #4 (coming soon)
Allure: this would be soo him if he were to text reader.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Title: Nursle.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.4k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).
[Part Two] [Part Three]
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A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.
Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.
Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—
“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”
You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”
Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”
Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.
In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.
You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.
If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”
You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.
Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”
“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”
“Let me guess – maternity leave?”
Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”
Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”
This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”
“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”
You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”
“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”
“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”
Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.
You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.
It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”
You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…
This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”
You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.
He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.
He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.
You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.
You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.
He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”
“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”
It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”
You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”
You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.
“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”
~
Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.
“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”
You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”
That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.
“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.
“Geto Himari.”
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callie-the-creator · 10 months
Text
sfw. warnings: obsessive behavior, slight stalking, jealousy, saiki uses his powers for selfish reasons, etc.
author’s note: oh, don’t mind me, just writing some headcanons if saiki was ever a yandere.
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• you and saiki first met in chūgakkō, junior high, but he didn’t fall in love with you until a few years later when you two were already in pk academy. maybe it’s all the accidentally bumping into him, dropping your papers and saiki being the one to help you pick them up, making awkward eye contact in class, hanging out with one another outside of school, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for at either the vending machine or at the store... all the things somehow have you involved these recent days and saiki is less than impressed at first
• saiki has always stated time and time again that he personally does not think he will not fall in love, so he always watches others who are in love and help them if he can, but here he is…completely captivated by you of all people. he didn’t know why though, was the author just really that bored?
• good grief
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦
• let it be known that he does possess the power to alter your perception of him. saiki could always just make you fall in love with him just like that…but…what’s the fun in that? no, no, he wouldn’t dream of doing that to you
— however, since saiki was born with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple-mile radius…he can read your mind, he knows all of your favorite things, what you dislike, your hobbies, and your address. he didn’t mean to at first, but he did find your thoughts and imagination fascinating. he even finds himself listening to you during class like you’re his favorite podcast
• saiki is crazily protective over you.
— there was a time where you nearly got mugged! and when i say ‘nearly’, well, let’s just say you should be grateful saiki was there to protect you. can’t you see that he’ll always be here for you in a time of need? he’ll keep you safe, but only if you see that for yourself…
• saiki doesn’t think he’s the jealous type, but he will stop any other man who has a crush on you by any means necessary by either relentlessly embarrassing them for the rest of the day or wiping you from their memory because only saiki can have you. no one else. he doesn’t care how many people he has to make forget you to become your boyfriend
• what’s that? you wish it was a sunny day in japan instead of a rainy one? don’t you worry about a thing! saiki will handle that for you!
• stalking you is almost child’s play to saiki since he has so many powers to ensure you don’t spot him — shapeshifting, teleportation, you name it! but this is a good thing because you don’t have to worry about him being an aggressive type of yandere
— if he is following behind you when you’re walking home, i do think saiki would change to his female self, so you would be less scared
• once the author made you bring coffee jelly to school and willingly give it up to saiki after seeing him light up at the sight of it, saiki knew that he just had to marry you
• he could, quite literally, turn the world upside down for you if it meant that you’ll be with him.
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lovverletters · 8 months
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Been waiting for this lol
*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!
Yandere! Husband
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A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!
T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Honey, do you remember how we met?"
[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.
They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.
"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.
"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.
"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.
How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].
They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.
He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.
Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.
Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.
It was the best decision he ever made.
"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.
[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.
"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"
From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.
He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.
It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.
Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.
He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.
It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.
Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].
What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ
He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.
Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.
[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.
"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"
Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.
"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"
"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.
Only to receive an unexpected answer.
"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.
Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.
Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.
"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.
Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.
Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.
They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.
It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.
"Honey! Dinner's ready"
They'll ask him about it later.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
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vxlkirayaxo · 3 months
Text
Stuck like glue
Tags/ warnings: clingy Scara, attachment, kissing, slightly suggestive (?) violence, yandere-ish (just Scara beating someone up for [name])
Character: Scara
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When your mothers were young, they were best friends and they made a vow to make you two best friends,"pass down our legacy" they said
Well...you two liked each other too much, you guys were inseparable.
All though poor Scara was more attached to you than you were to him. For scara, you were his only friend but for you you had a lot of friends.
While you two were in preschool he'd follow you around while he'd hold your hand. A grumpy expression on his face as he held his plushie and watched you socialize like a little butterfly.
"His little butterfly." his mother would say when she picked him up from preschool.
...that was another problem, when he went home before you did. He'd cry and scream, throwing a tantrum until his mother would call to see if she could pick you up too and just drop you off on the way home. Each time he would refuse to let go of your hand in the car which just earned a cute smile and giggle from you.
One day in grade school a rude boy put gum in your hair, that didn't end well...he beat the kid up until the kid couldn't walk. Not without you sitting there in the same room with your eyes closed and your ears covered.
The more you started to get bullied the more he became violent, and soon in highschool he became a 'delinquent'. But you didn't leave him during his violent times. When he snuck out of his house, his poor mother thought he was sneaking out to go do drugs and drinking little did she know he was sitting on the floor in front of your bed while you put accessories in his hair and stickers on his face. He didn't mind though, it was you of course.
It got to the point that your mother sat him down and asked him "do you like [name]?" That made him realize that he did, in fact, have feelings for you.
After graduation he offered for you two to move into the same apartment together after all, he really couldn't go more than ten hours without seeing your face.
Pretty soon his feelings got so bad he couldn't sleep without cuddling you. Holding your waist, face buried in your neck as you peacefully slept not noticing the blush on his face and how his breath grew a bit heavier when he noticed how perfectly your bodies fit together.
One day he finally had the courage, he handed you flowers and asked.
"Please be my lover.." he mumbled his gaze avoiding yours as blush stained his cheeks and ears.
You giggled before taking the flowers, a smile on your lips you chimed
"I thought we've been dating since junior high." You hugged him and he felt like he immediately burst into flames from how much he was blushing.
It was true that he had asked to be your partner for a project but you thought he meant actual partner.
"Do you want a kiss?" You looked down at him before he nodded and closed his eyes waiting for the kiss, this was going to be his first one!
You gave him a kiss on the lips before giggling out of embarrassment. He, however felt like he was in heaven.
"Again?" He asked his eyes only partially open.
Throws you this and leaves to go finish another project 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️
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