I'm In Love!!

I'm in love!!

here for you (yan!Suna RinatroxF!reader)

a/n this has been a wip for so long... enjoy! i'm working on a atsumu [nsfw] fic so be on the lookout for that next (unless adhd takes over and i start working on a different one instead)!

summary:: As a pro athlete and model, he's nice enough. And yet...there’s something in your gut that says you should stay away. word count:: ~4.4k warning(s):: non-con (no smut/SFW), suna's a grade A creep/stalker, yandere!!, isolation, stockholm syndrome, horror??(i tried to make this scary but it's really not lol) Music rec:: joke's on you - charlotte lawrence

As an aspiring journalist, your dreams had all but come true when you were hired as an intern at the most prestigious sports media center in Tokyo.

You get to shake hands with athletes you see on television daily and most importantly, you had received an actual assignment.

Gone were the days of running around to get your manager coffee and spending the day shredding documents. Instead, you had been tasked with creating an in-depth piece into the most popular athlete of the year— Suna Rintaro of EJP Raijin.

You still vividly remember your first time meeting him.

You’d been star-struck— a tall, gorgeous man you had only ever seen through a screen was standing in front of you.

Smiling. Holding out his beautiful hand for you to shake.

Despite his casual demeanor, there was something off about him. Maybe it was your nerves, or the cold air circulating in the office, but there was a tug in your stomach that was warning you.

At the time, you had plastered an excited grin on your face and scolded yourself.

But looking back— his eyes were quite cold, weren’t they?

You just can’t explain why you feel sick whenever you see him. In fact, despite the great task ahead of you—interviewing and writing up an article on Suna— you had been avoiding him.

There’s just something in you that dreads looking into his sharp green eyes.

It doesn’t help that in spite of your best efforts, you strangely run into him everywhere-- on and off the court.

“Suna?”

Your voice comes out squeaky and clearly nervous.

Are your eyes deceiving you? Why would he be here, in the middle of the cereal aisle, at the small grocery store next to your dingy apartment? You have to do a double take before you can confirm that yes, it is in fact him.

It’s late, and it’s only you, Suna, and the tired store manager. Though, at this moment, it feels like it’s only the two of you in this world.

“Oh. Hey, y/n,” Suna says casually, flashing you his famous smirk— the one that has his fans screaming and crying. He’s on his knees, reading the back of a granola cereal.

Suna turns back to the aisle in front of him, finally placing a box into his basket. Your brain registers it as your favorite flavor (the unhealthy, chocolate-y type that you’re sure athletes shouldn’t be eating).

What a coincidence.

“What are you doing here?”

You live on the edge of Tokyo, an unfortunate 30 minute subway ride to get to the sports arena you’re working at. And you know, from Suna’s player profile, that he lives in a luxurious high-ceiling apartment only a few blocks away from there.

“What do you mean?” Suna asks, frowning. He seems genuinely confused.

Are you the crazy one?

“Oh, it’s just… so random, you know?”

Your throat is tightening now and you feel unable to even swallow.

There are alarms blaring inside of your head, as if every fiber is irrationally telling you to run.

Suna glares at you, sharp eyes studying your smaller stature.

God. Another reason why you don’t like this man— he’s just too difficult to communicate with.

“You live quite far away, right?”

Seconds pass and you’re beginning to worry you’ve said something wrong or offensive when Suna finally stands, sighing as he turns toward the registers.

“No. I just moved to Kamikitazawa.”

You feel that tingle again.

“What a coincidence!” You say, recovering quickly.

Fuck. You sound especially stupid right now.

But could you help it? Suna, a multi-millionaire, moved into your apartment building? The one inhabited by broke college students and poor retirees?

Was he struggling financially? Did he have a secret child like some rumors alleged? Wait, is he—

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but whatever it is, you’re wrong.”

Suna and you are standing at the cash register now, and he turns to gently smile at you. You feel yourself softening.

Why were you scared, anyways? He’s a world-famous athlete and model.

Your premonitions have been wrong in the past— like when you thought your boss, Kuroo, would be upset with you accidentally deleting his PC files.

“I see,” you murmur, “well… the apartment is kind of… there’s a lot of problems, you know?”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. You sound like a broken radio.

There's an awkward silence as you and Suna both try to find the words to say.

This is why you hate talking to him, he expects you to do all the work!

"You should know that the third elevator isn't that good. It always gets stuck on floor two. And the garbage chute at the end of every hall is kind of hard to open. You have to," you make a pulling motion, "really yank, ya know?"

Silence. Suna stares at you blankly.

You're just an absolute loser, aren't you?

He's gonna cringe, or worse, tell your advisor that you're being overfamiliar with him, an athlete 5 years your senior…

As you stand in your cheap winter boots, shivering, Suna suddenly laughs.

It's not the quiet chuckle you see him release when he's joking with Komori, but a head-throwing, mouth widening laugh.

"Uh..." you stutter, nervous.

It takes a full minute before he finally stops, silently pink at the face.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," he says, lifting his shopping basket.

You nod repeatedly, nerves subsiding.

"Wanna walk back together?" Suna asks.

You hesitantly nod. Why not? It's late and dark, and though the neighborhood is calm, it never hurts to have a walking buddy.

On the walk home, to your surprise, Suna begins to talk about his team and compliments you for your article on the top liberos. You’ve never seen this side of him. There’s a reason why he’s so beloved— he’s a mystery.

You’re nearly zoning out as the two of you reach your apartment complex.

"Am I boring you?" Suna suddenly asks.

It's such an unexpected question, you falter for a second.

"No! I'm just... I feel relaxed. I like hearing your voice," you say, surprised.

Suna lets out a sigh of relief as he punches in the door code to the building.

"So. As I was saying, you want me to give you a ride tomorrow?"

"What?”

"A ride. To the arena." He says, enunciating every word as if you're a child.

"It's okay," you start, “I—”

"Take the subway, yeah. But it's a hassle, right?"

No, it's not. In fact, it's pretty nice, seeing strangers off to their desired destinations.

But it's as if he can read your mind.

"I’ll give you a ride."

It's not a question anymore.

"Alright," you murmur.

The short journey to your floor is now awkward, and you’re wishing you had turned down his offer to walk together.

The two of you are almost at the end of the hallway now, at your apartment door. To your horror, Suna doesn’t continue walking.

Instead, he simply turns around and reaches for the doorknob of the apartment just across from you.

Strangely, you’re just now noticing just how narrow and dark this hallway is.

Under the cheap fluorescent lights, you can only see the man in front of you. Suna’s pale hands flex as he easily readjusts his heavy grocery bags, reminding you he could take you out in a moment.

“Wow. Looks like we’re neighbors, huh?” Suna says, stepping into his flat.

You’re blinking up towards him, breath cut short.

“See you tomorrow, y/n.”

Funny. He didn’t sound surprised.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're just tying your hair when the doorbell rings.

"y/n, you ready?"

Who would’ve imagined hearing the Suna Rintaro’s voice at 9 AM.

You sigh as you take a final glance into the mirror. You couldn’t completely hide the dark eye circles from your lack of sleep— who’d be able to sleep after learning a celebrity lives practically next door?

Taking a deep inhale, you push open your front door.

You instantly feel yourself healing as you take in Suna. It’s a similar effect to watching your favorite idols perform on stage— good looks work wonders on your tired body.

Suna leans against the wall, wearing a pair of black sweats and a thin blue hoodie. With a start, you can't help but notice it's almost a couple set with your blue sweater and black skirt.

"Good morning," he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. You nod in response.

As you walk down the hall together to the elevators, you can't help but flush. Is this what it'd be like to have a boyfriend? As a student dedicated to her craft, you’d never felt the urge to date, remaining single your entire life. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be Suna Rintaro’s.

“Oh! What’s this!” Kiana, a middle-aged woman, calls out as you and Suna wait for the elevator.

“y/n! You never told me you got a boyfriend! And such a handsome one, too! Oh, if I was only a little younger…”

You and Suna make eye contact and you blush, quickly turning towards the smiley woman, ready to retort.

“We’re—” You barely make out a word before Suna suddenly takes your hand.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Suna Rintaro, y/n’s boyfriend. I just moved into apartment 306.”

At his words, both your and Kiana’s eyes widen.

Yours in confusion, hers in wonder as she recognizes the handsome stranger.

“I know you! I know you! You’re Suna, from that team! Oh, my son is such a fan! I can't believe you're living here! He’ll be so excited."

As Suna and Kiana make small talk, you try to discreetly shake your sweaty hand out of Suna’s grasp. To your bewilderment, he continues gripping onto it, so hard you can feel his short fingernails digging into your soft skin.

To your relief, the elevator chimes, and as Suna waves goodbye (you do too, out of habit), you gasp as he yanks you into the elevator.

"What was that?" You ask, nervously looking up at your ‘boyfriend.’

Suna’s eyes are hard as he stares down at you, but he’s glowing all the same, as if he’d just received a gift.

“Saying we’re a couple. What was that about?”

Suna hums innocently.

"I just thought it would be most convenient to tell her that. People will see us together from now on."

No, they won't.

“It would confuse them to have to explain you’re an intern.”

Was that so complicated?

But with his mischievous smirk and the way he taps his foot against the elevator floor, you just can’t find the courage to refute.

“Alright… but could you let go?” You ask uncomfortably.

"Ah, right," he says, letting you free.

You rub your hands together, easing the circulation back.

Strangely, it feels especially cold without his grip on you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up."

Awakening with a start, you rub your eyes.

You can't help but admit you could get addicted to free rides with Suna.

His car is just too nice; the seats are fluffy and he turned on the heater to just the right temperature and there's soft piano playing from the speakers.

How long have you been out?

Taking in your surroundings, you're surprised to find you're already at the Tokyo Volleyball Arena. You almost jump in shock as you realize what’s warming your lap— a box of your favorite strawberry waffles.

“What’s this?” You question as Suna wordlessly hands you a fork.

"I thought you might be hungry.”

Suna slides a cup into your open hand— matcha.

So he is a nice man, after all.

“Wow, Suna! Let me please pay you back!”

Your stomach grumbles as you take a bite of the sweet breakfast.

“No, no, it’s on me.”

How could you make it up to him? Maybe you should bake him cookies or something… you shift in your seat, frowning as you realize your bare thigh is strangely damp. Rubbing your thighs together, your eyebrows furrow.

“Oh,” Suna says, biting into his scrambled eggs, “sorry. That was me, I got some coffee on you while you were sleeping, so I wiped it away," he says sheepishly, gesturing towards the pack of wet wipes in the glove compartment.

He looks embarrassed, avoiding eye contact, so you don't push it any further.

He's kind of cute, you think.

It kind of feels too perfect– the plush comfort of Suna’s luxury car, the sweetness of the waffles, and the delicious matcha, albeit slightly salty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, y/n, which movie should we watch?" Suna calls from your couch.

You're in the kitchen, preparing popcorn in your small microwave.

"Studio Ghibli!" You shout back, stirring the hot chocolate, “I have a whole bunch downloaded, just choose one.”

It's become a regular occurrence for the two of you to spend much of your free time together. At first, Suna had gently coaxed you into spending time with you under the guise of doing more research for the article you’re writing about him, but now you’ve grown to genuinely enjoy his company.

From morning rides to office lunches to casual dinners, it's like your life has been consumed by Suna. Your gut had been wrong, after all, because Suna treats you like a girlfriend— although you’d long shook away that silly thought— he’d never see a younger, broke student that way.

But despite your brain knowing everything is just fine, your heart has yet to be rewired. It still pounds with discomfort, as if it knows that fundamentally, something’s wrong.

You just can’t identify or place a label on that problem.

More recently, you’ve been getting hit with strong deja vu from that one night at the grocery store months ago.

As if it’s only the two of you on this planet.

Sighing, you take your place next to Suna, glancing at your phone. It remains still, screen dark.

“What’s wrong?” Suna asks, frowning. He pushes up his black glasses, running his fingers through his damp hair.

You hesitate. It’s fine to share this, right? After all, it feels like Suna’s all you have right now.

“Well… I’m not sure why, but I think my friends are mad at me. For the past few months, they’ve been silent. They don’t really respond to me anymore, and when they do they just say they’re busy.”

Suna nods, reaching for your hand. You welcome the warmth of his fingers, blinking back tears.

“And even worse, my family hardly contacts me. I used to call my mom basically everyday. I think there’s something really wrong, Suna, I’m really worried.”

“How long has this been going on?” Suna has the movie paused now, full attention on you. He gently strokes your hair and the kind gesture has tears pooling in your eyes.

“For a few months… maybe… four? I didn’t realize it at first because of how busy I’ve been at work and with the article I’m writing on you,” you mumble, allowing Suna to embrace you.

He’s gently rocking you back and forth now, rubbing your back, whispering kind words into your ear, telling you it’s okay and they’re probably just busy too…

Minutes pass before you finally look up, eyes widening as you take in his facial expression.

Despite his sweet words, Suna’s eyes are completely blank and there’s a questionable, small smile on his face. You barely recognize him.

“y/n?”

You blink, and take in an inaudible breath as you stare at Suna.

He cocks his head, confused. He looks at you with nothing but affection and concern, thin lips pressed into a frown.

Your heartbeat slows as you realize that, yet again, you’d just been seeing and feeling things wrong— whenever you’re around Suna, it’s as if you lose sense of your surroundings.

Smiling, you sniffle as you wipe away your tears.

“Sorry for getting emotional at movie night.”

Suna grins, giving you a final gentle hug before turning back to the television.

“Don’t be. I’m always here for you, y/n.”

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

Q: Suna, this question has been long requested by your fanbase. How do you express love?

A: Dedication. I give my all to my lover, no questions asked.

Oh, and I don’t like to share.

There’s suddenly a knock at your door, causing you to jump. You put down your laptop, where your open article draft sits nearly complete.

The lightning storm outside has you shaking and you just wish Suna was here, holding you and laughing at his silly responses to your even stupider interview questions.

Another knock at the door.

Strange— Suna’s practice runs for extra long today for his upcoming tournament. Maybe he finished early.

“Suna, why didn’t you call before practice finished? We could’ve gone out for dinner,” you scold as you pull open the door.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Standing in front of you is your furious older sister, drenched from the rainstorm outside.

“Oh my god! Come in!” You say, alarmed. You reach towards her wrist, but she remains planted in place.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She’s angrier than you’ve ever seen her.

“How could you tell us to fuck off? You really think your journalism is that important? Your writing isn’t more important than family, you asshole! It’ll never be important!”

Taking a deep breath, your sister lets go, immediate regret evident on her face. She opens her mouth to apologize, but you’re not having any of it.

Anger is coursing through your body now and you shove your sister away, causing her to stumble against Suna’s door.

Your family has never supported your career— from when you were just a child, you’d had to work hard for your own future.

So this is why they had shunned you? Because they can’t stand seeing you successful? Because you had moved away from the countryside to make something out of yourself in the city?

Tears stream down your face as you tremble.

“My writing is important,” you whisper. Your sister nods quickly, opens her mouth again—

“Don’t come by anymore. Don’t consider me a part of the family anymore.”

“No, I’m sorry— I think there’s a miscommunication, y/n! Wait!”

Slamming the door on her shocked face, you stumble towards the couch.

It feels as though you’re going to die— the room spins as your lungs strive for air and your vision is becoming increasingly blurry.

The sound of rain and your sister pounding on the door intertwine, and as you bury your head into a pillow, you really just wish Suna was at your side.

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

“y/n?”

Someone’s tugging at your sleeve, and you glance up, blinking uncomfortably at the bright lights of the living room. There’s dried tear streaks on your face and you’re sure you look like a miserable ogre, but Suna looks at you with nothing but compassion as he hugs you, alarmed.

He’s slightly damp—probably a combination of sweat from practice and the rain outside—but you hold onto him eagerly as he eases you onto his lap.

“What happened?”

You shake your head, explaining what had happened in the few hours when he’d been gone.

Suna’s furious on your behalf, jaw tight and fists clenched.

“Thank god I told your sister to fuck off. She was standing at your door, yelling curses and threatening to call the police,” he mutters.

Tears spring to your eyes again. This only confirms the reality of your life now— your family (and probably friends, too) absolute despise you.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll always be here for you,” Suna whispers.

His words are somewhat like a relaxant to you. Taking a deep breath, you lean into his chest, sighing.

“I don’t think I can write anymore, Suna. I don’t want to. What have I been working towards my whole life?”

Suna remains silent for a moment, studying your sorrowful face, before leaning in to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes shift, admiring his gorgeous olive ones.

“Your journalism is amazing, y/n. And… if you hadn’t worked so hard, we might’ve never met, right?”

You smile sadly.

“I guess…”

“y/n, how about you wrap up your article tonight? You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

You gesture towards your open laptop on the coffee table.

“It’s done, but it’s shit. My sister’s right, it’s not worth anything,” you say, embarrassed. You’ve always known you were talentless, which is why you’ve always worked harder. But it amounted to nothing in the end.

You press your cold hands against your burning eyes as Suna picks up your laptop, skimming through what you’ve written about him.

If even he hates it… that’s it. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to go on.

“y/n, will you look at me?”

Suna’s gently tugging at your hands covering your face. Biting your lip nervously, you let him take your hands into one of his.

“Want my honest opinion?” He asks, placing the laptop onto your lap. You nod, staring down at the bright screen.

“This is the best thing anyone’s written about me.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie.”

“y/n. I’m serious. This shows exactly the side I wanted the public to know about me. It’s intimate, but written formally enough to be taken seriously by the media.”

When you don’t respond, Suna sighs sadly.

“I guess you don’t want the opinion of a dumb athlete, though…”

Frantically, you look up, shocked.

“Of course not! Suna, your opinion is everything to me!”

Relief settles in your stomach as Suna grins, eyes shining.

“Really?”

“Of course! Thank you… That really means a lot to me.”

Suna nods, rambling about how much he loves that sentence here, the use of punctuation there…

“What’s wrong?” He asks, noticing you look down again.

“I… just feel like I have nobody but you, Suna.”

Suna smiles at you, waving towards the polaroids of your friends and family hung on the wall.

“I’m sure they’ll come around again, y/n.”

Your nose crinkles as you cringe at the photos. You want them gone. You want all of the references towards them gone.

You want to get out of here.

“I hate this apartment, actually. They helped me decorate it and everything,” you sigh.

“Well then, how about we move out together?”

You fiddle your thumbs, headache threatening to return.

“I don’t have that type of money,” you say, frustrated. It’s easy for a world-class athlete like him to just up and leave, but you’d never be able to, not unless you dropped out of school and found a job elsewhere.

“y/n, I’ve just remembered. I have an apartment near our stadium, right? How about you move there for the rest of your internship?”

You hesitate. Intruding into the home of a man you’re not even in a relationship with? While the offer is tempting…

“Don’t worry about anything, y/n. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Suna’s gently rubbing circles onto the side of your hands and you feel like melting away, exhausted.

All that crying and anger has truly taken a toll on you. Your eyelids flutter as you finally nod.

“Okay.”

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

“Are you sure?”

Now that it’s come to actually burning the photos, you’re hesitating. Aside from the few photographs on the walls, your apartment is completely bare, all of your belongings now residing in Suna’s luxury condo.

“y/n. You don’t need them anymore.”

You pause, the lighter in your hand feeling heavier by the second. With this, you’re truly erasing all parts of your former family and friends. Just then, your phone buzzes— you barely need to look at it to know it’s a string of curses from your ex-best friend.

Suna grimaces as he deletes the message, examining you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re right, Suna. I don’t.”

You watch as the pictures go up in flames, holding back tears.

Looking around your now empty apartment, Suna wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“I always thought your walls would look better bare.”

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

In and out.

There’s something so comforting about the way you breathe.

You’re lying motionless on Suna’s large bed, curled into a ball.

Adorable.

Sighing, Suna collapses next to you, admiring your eyebrows, the curve of your nose, your lips…

When was the last time he’d felt this content? Reaching out, Suna gently tucks your hair behind your ears, admiring the small s shaped earrings adoring them.

Bringing you here was the best option. It’d taken him a little longer than he’d hoped, but now you were truly in the palm of his hand.

He’d almost slipped up a few times (your gut was much smarter than you) but everything had worked out, hadn’t it.

Since the day he’d first met you nearly a year ago, Suna knew you’d be his.

He’s not sure why, but there’s this thing about him— sometimes, when he sees something, he wants it.

And he’ll do anything to make sure it’s entirely his.

You mumble in your sleep, rolling over to face the large windows that present the city of Tokyo below his feet.

He has it all now.

His phone vibrates— messages from your concerned father.

Rolling his eyes, Suna silently reaches over to your phone, which lies innocently next to your small hand, and unlocks it (the password being his birthday, obviously).

Without hesitation, Suna begins wiping out all traces of the code he’s implanted into your phone.

There would be no more reason to reroute your messages to himself anymore.

Next, Suna makes sure all of your family and friends’ contacts are blocked.

Ensuring your safety is a top priority of his.

He squeezes your device in his large hand, wondering if he should just break it.

If Suna had it his way completely, he’d rather you not have a phone at all.

Tossing your phone back onto your side of the bed, Suna smirks as he unlocks his own device.

Desperate messages from your sister pop up, warning you of your tall neighbor, he threatened to kill me if i didn’t leave y/n please get away from him and go to the police!

Suna slides his thumb across the screen, removing the messages from his screen, and disconnects his phone from yours.

After all, you wouldn’t be getting contacted by those nuisances anymore.

Almost done, then he can sleep peacefully with you—Suna sends the email he’s been working on: a PDF attachment of your final draft of your article on him and a short message of your resignation as an intern, written by yours truly.

Turning over, Suna locks the bedroom door, smiling.

There’s no need for anyone else.

Not when he’s always going to be here for you.

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

1K notes View Post

yaptain

1 year ago

Finally some good food

Best friend Satoru who hangs out at your house more often than he does at his cause he complains that his million dollar duplex isn’t as comfy.

Best friend Satoru who is no stranger to skin ship with you, letting you sit on his lap whenever there’s not enough space on the couch with all your friends.

Best friend Satoru who your boyfriend gets jealous of cause you’d spend all day texting him and giggling at your phone but you’d always tell your boyfriend that he’s just a friend.

Best friend Satoru who third wheels on your dates more often than not, getting in between you and your boyfriend and just being a cockblock.

Best friend Satoru who knows all your likes and dislikes. Who buys you your favorite Starbucks drink every morning and your favorite treats whenever you asked.

Best friend Satoru who spoils you by gifting you expensive jewelry for your birthdays, always loving the look on your face and the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s even more.

Best friend Satoru who rushes over to your house in the middle of the night immediately after you called him crying that your stupid insecure little boyfriend cheated on you with some nameless hoe.

Best friend Satoru who comforts you with ice cream as you cry your heart out to him.

Best friend Satoru who wipes away your tears and kisses you despite you being a mess.

Best friend Satoru whose one kiss turned into a full blown make out session and just like that all clothes are off and he’s fucking you raw into your couch.

Best friend Satoru who you’re convinced is the best fuck of your life as he brings you to your fifth orgasm of the night.

Best friend Satoru whose cum is leaking out of you as you laid spread out in front of him, trying to catch your breath and maybe…he’s not just a friend anymore?

15K notes View Post

yaptain

1 year ago

That was delicious

yandere!yuji who would hold you like a koala, tight with no signs of letting go. it would take you being a master ninja to escape his grasp, but it would still be a challenge if you were one. yuji would be grumpy if he’d woken up to an empty bed, pouting at you in the kitchen where you’re making breakfast for the two of you as his arms snake around your waist once more. he’s grateful that you’ve taken the time to cook his favorite meal of the day, but why didn’t you wake him up so he can help you? he’s such a clingy puppy.

yandere!yuji who could always convince you to deny your friends invitation to hang out with the excuse that “you can always hang out next time”, but that next time never really comes. but you aren’t sad, how could you when you spend the whole day having fun with your boyfriend? coffee in your favorite cafe, him winning prizes for you in the amusement park, catching a movie, and finally relaxing in your shared apartment. yuji always makes sure you’re having the best day everyday. more fun than your “friends” could ever give you.

yandere!yuji who’s phone storage is filled to the brim in photos and videos of you. some innocent, some not so much. some before you dated noticed him, some afterwards. but you’ll never know about his peculiar habits. you’ll never know that behind that adorable, dorky smile, is an obsessive stalker who would do anything to protect you. yuji has lost so many people in his life, and he’ll be damned if you joined them. he’ll always be the guardian watching over you.

1K notes View Post

yaptain

1 year ago

This was so hot I can't-

Do you think the miya twins would ever "mess around" with their darling at the same time? Ik they usually don't touch her like that unless they have her to themselves. Idk, I think it'd be fun to have the two crazies fighting over her as they have sex.

Oh yeah, totally!

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

Osamu is gracious, almost lenient. He knows Atsumu needs his alone time with you after a hard day of training, to celebrate his victory, or to just shut him up for a while. Having you bounce on his cock until he's satisfied is sure to knock Atsumu out for a while, as he'll be sleeping like a baby after a good fuck. And, to be honest, Osamu doesn't always want to deal with his brother's whining because you moaned the "wrong" name or because you've been kissing Osamu for too long. He just wants to be concentrating on your and his pleasure, knowing his brother can get off just fine by slamming into you but Osamu likes taking his sweet time. Also, Osamu is fully aware that his presence and extra stimulation could overwhelm you (although he enjoys that).

Regardless, that means he'll be the one to back off 7 out of 10 times, whisking you away after Atsumu is done for some fun in the bathtub and to help clean you up. Or he enjoys the rare time he has alone with you, bending you over the kitchen counter or taking you into the twin's room for somewhere more comfortable. There's also the delayed gratification in listening to your moans coming from the other room while he's cooking, his cock throbbing and waiting for his own chance of release that Osamu so likes. And he really likes being the one to pick up the you in pieces that Atsumu leaves behind, making sure you know he's the one to rely on in this weird relationship.

But there are times it can't be helped. I mean, look at you; how can anyone resist you?!

Surely not those two!

It's mostly when Osamu and you are getting frisky, and Atsumu comes home too early and catches you. He really has no shame, and there will be an unoccupied spot he can squeeze himself into. There's so much excitement in his eyes when he sees you, already hot and heavy, dazed, crying, or otherwise deliciously pleasured, and he can't help himself from asking you if you're enjoying his brother's dick and if you want to feel even better. He'll be so vocal about how pretty you are and how well you are taking Osamu's cock. How you'll be able to fit one more and take Atsumu as well, looking absolutely brilliant like this. If your mouth isn't occupied, Atsumu will make you tell him all about how you're feeling, asking you to say where his brother is making you feel good and apply some more stimulation that Osamu might have missed. Atsumu is always a little rougher with you, but he knows where to twist and pull to make your back arch, and he's the best when it comes to praising and degrading you, depending on what you need at that moment. And he knows. He always knows where you're itching to be touched, and if not, he'll make you tell him, kiss you feverishly when you speak up, and do everything you need him to do.

The twins might nag a bit at each other, but you know better than anyone that their teamwork is dreamwork. If they get together, you'll be drowning in pleasure until you no longer feel like the trapped darling you are. They'll make you feel like you belong. Like you are their lover and as if you want to be their bitch, chasing just one more height. The two of them are as addicting and devastating as drugs, but you'll never find anyone who knows your body better. Who's touch will make you cry from joy and who controls you from your thoughts to your orgasm, allowing you to let go of any worry or fear.

Although more rare, there are also times when Osamu joins you and Atsumu. Interestingly, Atsumu does give out an invitation every time Osamu walks in on you and his brother cock-deep inside you. It might be a jest, but Atsumu is unpredictable and mischievous in that way, and Osamu, too, can't resist his pretty darling, writhing and moaning in front of him, desperately in need of his attention. (It's what he tells himself, at least.) Sometimes, it's enough to watch you and his brother go at it as he jerks himself off, but on the very good days, Osamu will do anything to worship you, putting your pleasure before his, especially after seeing his brother rough you up. Isn't it nice of him to kiss all those bites and scratches? Osamu's hands can be so amazing as they dance across your skin, leaving trails of his touch from one hickey to another that make you gasp while his palms almost seem to burn when they settle. You'll want to nod and confirm any of his questions because you know he'll treat you to mind-breaking stimulation when you do. Of course you'll suck his fingers, push out your tongue for him and let him play with your hair as he rearranges you into new positions, making you feel things even deeper to the point both you and Atsumu are trembling and moaning.

Having the full attention of one twin can be exhausting or quite one-sided. But once you have both, you'll start to forget that you never wanted any of this.

Because in those moments, you'll only want more.

850 notes View Post

yaptain

1 year ago

This is a MASTERPIECE , how come it only has 10 notes?!

Hello, First timer here. May I please request for Yandere Nanami Kento wherein their darling finds their stalker wall ( a wall filled with their pictures) after being invited into his apartment and proceeds to runaway from him

Great idea. this will be my dessert. And speaking of dessert........

The sun began to disappear on the horizon. It had a calming dark orange color rather than the blinding white light it usually had. Parts of the sky that took off with the sun brought a yellow hue that eventually faded into a dark blue above. The clouds were purple and pink, which gave the impression that this was probably the most beautiful sunset in Japan this year. Yet, Kento wouldn't dare take his eyes off of your face. You were ten times more beautiful than any sunset he's ever laid his eyes on. Everything from your reflective eyes to your beautiful lips was something he could never get off of his mind. He needed you to be his forever.

He managed to persuade you into having a few dates with him. You and him have been work partners for a few years at the same company, and he's "known" you for even longer than that. He knew you didn't really like your job and only stayed for the amazing pay. He also knew that he was your type. Organized. Neat. Kept to himself and never really bothered to talk with others. He intrigued you and you wanted to know more about him. It was less of convincing, and more of you asking him out, if anything. More of a reason for you to stick around. He wasn't complaining.

And so you two were almost halfway through the first date. "Surprise me," you said. So he gave you some sort of dress code that would be nice for the place he'd take you to and he brought you to a (pretty expensive, in your opinion) new restaurant that opened in Tokyo. You had a great time ordering to your hearts content, like he told you to do. And you're surprised that he could even afford a place like this. It made you wonder what kind of pay gap you two had.

You spoke the most out of the both of you, even with shoving all of the food you ate into your mouth. He told you to be careful, of course, but couldn't help but let out little chuckles from your adorable behavior. You told him about your position and what you to at work(which he already knew about), told him about the stray cats you feed every night because they kept begging you so sweetly for more deli cuts from your fridge(he knew that too), and you told him about how much you enjoy his company.

"I don't know." You said, sipping your red wine while maintaining eye contact with him. "It's something really nice about you." You give him a simple smile, your beautiful nails tapping against the polish wooden dinner table. He felt his cock twitch in his pants and tried to fight back the heat that began to reach his face and ears from your sudden complete attention on him.

"You're so sweet and caring.........Very attentive and responsible. I like that in a man." You sat back in your seat, eating smaller bites off of your plate now. "You know, I can't find men like you anymore. Like, a lot of them always seem to have a lot of the qualities I want. Money, great hygiene, great taste in places they take me to, but..." You shook your head. "There's always that one thing that just....doesn't do it for me, you know?" Kento nods, understanding what you meant. He prayed that there wasn't anything you didn't like about him. Because he knows how picky you can get. And he'll play dollhouse with you a million times before you find out about how he managed to be with you in this moment.

"I used to give them a chance. That's what a lot of older women would tell me. Give them a chance, it's just one flaw, nenenene, whatever. But then I see the men that they stay with and it's.......I don't want to insult their taste, but. No. And every time I gave someone a chance, they revealed so many other things that I didn't like about them. The guy before you was just like you. So nice to me, had money, was neat and clean. He was great." You flip your hand around.

Kento internally monologues to himself, 'nice isn't enough'.

"But he was a fucking misogynist. I almost got slapped probably," Kento's eyebrows shoots up. "What?? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shake your head. "Nononono, I was exaggerating, I shouldn't have. Sorry."

"No, it's okay, you don't need to apologize. I just want to make sure nothing bad happened. Who was this guy?" You roll your eyes. "Some CEO at like, um........McDonald's. I'm surprised he wasn't fat." You insult him and scoff. Kento makes a hard mental note to do some deep research on all current and former CEO's of McDonald's establishments. And also to get into your phone's database.

"And him being nice wasn't enough at all." See? "And after all of the 'nice guys' I dated, and all of the weird misogynists-in-hiding i've spoken to, I have a very...very good feeling," You grab his cold hands with your very warm ones, "That you are so much more than every sleaze I gave crumbs to."

"......so I am receiving 'crumbs'?" You smile and let go of his hands. He dearly misses the warmth you provided to him. "The first date is always crumbs. It's just a matter if I believe that you deserve more than just that." You silently watch Kento pay for the bill before packing your stuff. Before you can get out of your seat, Kento almost(fully) rushes out of his to help you back up. You sweetly thank him, putting your jacket on(with his help again) and let out an exhale as you both step outside of the restaurant onto the streets.

It takes a few anxious seconds of silence for Kento to speak up. "Is it alright if we make some dessert at my place? I have all of the ingredients to make an apple pie, I didn't want to waste your time by just sitting on the couch with you. But if you want to call it a night, I can walk you back home and we can discuss our next date on the way back?"

When you turn and smile at him, the setting sun accents your face in every way possible. Kento prays to god that this moment in time isn't a dream. Without realizing, his face relaxes, brown eyes giving you that look as if you were his nonexistent teenage dream that he's meeting for the first time. It feels so natural when you slip your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together.

"No. I realize I want to do this with you. You're special. I hope you realize that by now." Kento can only stay silent while his heart nearly beats out of his chest for the entire way back to his place. You didn't mind the silence, humming and pointing at flowers or birds that caught your attention for a few seconds.

Kento goes over every door he locked and every little thing he hid around his house in case you agreed to be with him at his place. But now that you two were in front of his door, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So, he calmly opens his front door, lets you in first with a smile, before closing it behind him. He acts as if nothing is suspicious as you both take off your shoes and outside jackets, putting them in their respective places.

Kento excuses himself to open his sliding door in the back for ventilation, only to really check all doors for their locks, peek into certain rooms he purposefully left unlocked. "Hey, Kento?" You called from the kitchen. "Yes? Is there anything you need?" He calls back, making his way to the sliding door. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?"

"My home is your home. The bathroom is down the hall by the staircase." And it's as he opens the sliding doors that he tenses realizes you'd possibly open one of two doors at the end of the hallway. The one leading into his humongous shrine entirely dedicated to you, or the actual bathroom.

"Y/n, wait." Kento does a 180 turn and power walks back to the front of his home, about to turn left before nearly bumping into you. You pass him with the same speed he had almost, putting on your shoes you left by the door. His heart drops into his stomach when he turns and sees the door to his shrine left wide open. "Y/n-" You had already left out the door by the time he turns back to face you.

Kento thinks back to seven months ago when he first started stalking you. How long it took for him to get his first clear picture of your face in a crowd full of people. How long it took for him to build his body shape into the one you desired. How long it took for him to find a place in Shinjuku to be closer to you. To be in the same work company as you. And, fuck, did it take forever for him to get you to notice him. And now here you are. Running out of his apartment in fear of him. All of the love and desire he poured into you, into your beautiful shrine entirely dedicated to you. He was completely devoted to you. And you're running. How fucking stupid it was for him to believe he could have it easy.

His face forms into one of anger as you step out into the cold once more, as if you forgot every single good fucking thing he had brought onto you. You didn't even realize how close he got until you felt his iron-tight grip clamp onto your shoulder and yank you back into his apartment. You land onto the floor harshly and flinch when he slams the door shut, locking it tight.

You never realized how much bigger and stronger Nanami was compared to you until now. You were just a little mouse and he was like a tiger. "I can't let you go." He says. His heart feels as if it's hanging on a few strings in his chest. His throat begins to close out of stress and sadness. He didn't want to do this to you. He got so so so close....but you tried to ruin everything you two had build together.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. He rubs his face and turns his back to you. "Fuck." You stay silent and still. You couldn't believe what you had gotten yourself into. You couldn't have known that the silent businessman that worked a floor above you was a weirdo creep who would fucking hold you hostage.

"It was my fault. I knew that that door was unlocked. And forgot to lock it. I never wanted you to see that." He turns back to face you now. You're still silent. Nanami desperately wants you to say something. He missed the sound of your voice in his ears. He missed feeling your touch. And knowing it won't ever be genuine like it felt today just made it feel like a huge part of him died inside. The silence killed him.

"........You have to stay here." "No." You immediately respond to that, shaking your head. You scramble to your feet and step up to him. "I'm not your hostage, Nanami." He turns his head in mental pain, hating how you aren't on first-name basis now. "No, you're not. But you won't ever want to be with me again. And the last thing I need is for someone else to find out about it."

"Of fucking course I wouldn't want to be around you anymore. Who knows what other shit you've seen me do. It's so sickening to think I was going to be close to my stalker. Oh, jesus christ." The vile words pour out of your mouth and Nanami's jaw tenses. Nanami looked like a child being told he couldn't see his mother ever again and it just made you more pissed off. You wanted to leave. The door was right there. But his desire to want you....and keep you...kept you from being free.

You step back in thought. What the fuck are you going to do? As if he could read your mind, Nanami looks up at you. He hasn't moved once from his spot. "I will take care of you."

You shake your head and purse your lips. "I wouldn't dare neglect you. You are my angel. You know that. Right?" He takes a step closer. "We can sleep in the same bed once we get there...but until then, I can give you my bedroom."

His dining room and kitchen are big. With the surrounding space, you feel like you could get around him somehow. So you shed the jacket, letting it drop to the floor. "......" He stares at it before looking back up at you. "And then...I will also bathe you, and allow you to use the hygiene products I know you use." You scowl and cross your arms.

"I know you're trying to run." Nanami walks up to you as calmly as possible. But he moved where you moved. Which is how you ended up on the floor straddled when you tried shoving past him. "Please don't make me do this." He begs. You shout profanities at him, which eventually water down to you just sobbing, tears rushing down your face as you gasped for air. "Please, just let me go!" Nanami keeps your hands together with one hand, and wipes your face of your tears with the other. Your face was hot as you tried to avoid his cold touch.

Nanami shakily sighs. He really didn't want to say no to you. But you couldn't just leave. So for the first time ever, he ignored you. He ignored your squeals of fear as he hoists you off of the ground and brings you into the guest bedroom, locking the door from the outside. He ignores the loud bangs on the door as he cleans up the small mess left behind, putting away the prepped ingredients for the apple pie for another time. And he ignores that small selfish feeling of happiness bloom in his chest at his once in a lifetime chance to finally have something go right in his life. No matter how dark and twisted the path was to get to this point.

345 notes View Post

yaptain

1 year ago

CHEF'S KISS

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking, death of nameless character

Thinking about Gojo bumping into you on his way to buy sweets and getting mortified when sensing how you pass through his infinity like it isn’t even there – touching him hands-first like it’s only normal.

And the way you look at him, all spluttering apologies – without a single clue – how you quickly walk away like it was no bigger deal than mildly embarrassing.

And he’s left there, stunned and stuck to the ground he stood on, suddenly feeling stripped naked.

He had to follow you – naturally. Can’t let the biggest threat to his life just walk around unsupervised. Obviously, he has to keep tabs on you now – every single day – your constant whereabouts, where you work and study and loiter and live, and who you communicate with.

It’s all platonic at first – nothing romantic. He’s stalking you, but it’s for safety reasons. There’s no telling who’d potentially find out about your dormant technique and use it against him.

But keeping his six eyes on you every hour he could spare all day and night of every week, eventually, he can't stop himself from starting to see you as something more than just a threat…

He's not blind to it either – he feels the change in the pit of his stomach – in his heart – in his balls even.

He blushes when you take your clothes off to go shower – needs to swallow thickly, watching you walk about your apartment dressed only in a dainty set of panties and a comfy T – smiles when seeing you dance around to music he can’t hear from where he’s perched on the rooftop on the neighboring building – tugs on his cock to the sight of you touching yourself, trying to time his climax to yours.

He’s not watching you for the right reasons anymore… he knows that, but he just can’t seem to stop.

You’re so normal, he’s obsessed with you. So addictive in your mundane routines. Messy notes, chewing your pen when scrambling for an exam – making another easy-fix dinner – picking up the same hoodie from the floor before throwing yourself out the door to go work your minimum wage job – coming home late only to collapse on the sofa with a random episode of some dumb sitcom playing on the TV.

He wants to be your boyfriend – imagines himself going to your school and sitting next to you in the lecture hall, studying together at cafes, watching movies in bed, wearing his varsity jacket, squeezing your tits as you ride him in someone else's bedroom at a party that got way out of hand, cumming on your face and apologizing for it when you give him head on his birthday.

He’s teetering on thirty and has killed more than he can count – both curses and humans – and here he is – fantasizing about having a college girlfriend who doesn’t even know who his name…

It would be healthy for him to stop – he knows that, knows it’s becoming dangerous – but he thinks it might be too late now – all he does is try and get closer…

He thinks about enrolling in one of your classes, thinks about moving into your apartment complex, and then he thinks about taking you.

He’s watching you have a nightcap with a boy he thinks he recognizes from your class – you’re both drunk and it’s obvious where things are going...

There’s a devil and an angel sitting on his shoulders, whispering in his ear – but he can't tell which one’s which anymore. One is telling him to leave – to allow you some privacy... but the other tells him to barge in – to crash through the window and rip the guy’s head off by the scruff of his chin.

There’d be blood on his hands, but at least he’d finally be able to touch you…

He glues his hands together – tries thinking clearly – but closing his eyes only results in seeing you gasping and moaning while getting fucked by someone else and it makes him feel like he’s about to lose his shit.

He performs the rituals with his fingers without even noticing – making the hand gestures – his breathing thick before he mouths the words beneath his breath. “Infinite Void…”

You don’t know what’s happening – you’re drunk and unsure if you should be dialing nine-one-one or an ambulance. The guy you’re with is having a seizure, frothing at the mouth and spasming on the floor until suddenly falling limp.

Your breathing is sharp. You think he’s dead. You throw up. The shock makes the tears stop for a brief moment before you start hyperventilating, crying harder.

You’re shaking, and it’s hard holding the phone still – let alone dial any number. Before you can, there’s a knock on the door.

You’re not thinking clearly, naked and wrapped in just a thin sheet as you rush to greet the sound. You don’t recognize the man, but for some reason, you’re spilling your guts to him anyway – rambling about the dead guy in your bedroom.

You’re panicked, and it only takes a curt minute before you’re throwing yourself at him – hugging him tightly – your hands ice-cold on his neck, skin-to-skin without any respect to his infinity – latching onto him for dear life as if you know exactly who he is and how much he loves you.

But of course, you don’t...

You’re just in shock – having just witnessed a boy die. Completely clueless as to how the man you were clinging to so desperately was going to take you back into that bedroom where that boy was lying and do to you what he was going to do before he killed him.

4K notes View Post

yaptain

4 months ago

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny

19K notes View Post

yaptain

3 months ago

Reader accidentally getting married to a complete stranger (König) after a drunken night? With complete documentation and all.

Your head is pounding. Your throat feels like you were enjoying a light snack of needles and sand last night. Your pussy feels like you decided to fuck yourself with a baseball bat and came three times during it. There is a man in your bed - well, not even your bed, but a bed. A bed in a room that you do not recognise, with a man that you do not recognize. He has his hand thrown over your waist and you can spot a ring on his hand - fucking great, you slept with a married guy. Maybe, you could just slowly ease yourself from under his body and make. a quick run for your life before his wife is here, so... There is a ring on your finger. Same vintage design, maybe a bit more elegant. Giant diamond in the middle, making it look like something you definitely wouldn't want to wear on a daily basis. The guy snores quietly behind you, the outline of his muscular body makes you shiver with desire. So, you did sleep with a married guy. It's just that he was married to you. If you think that convincing Konig that it was all a drunk mistake and you should divorce as soon as possible so you wouldn't have any problems in the future, you're dead wrong. He already tied the knot, and he won't let you or anyone else untie it. Not in his books - he is going to take you home and sign all the required documents, so you'd have a hand on the property, and he already discusses how you'll give up on your job and become a full-time housewife for him. You thought it couldn't get worse, but the guy already calls you his darling, his dearest, and about three different pet names in German that you don't understand - but pretty sure it's something weird and perverted. Konig rolls over you again, his cock poking at your thigh. A newlywed high goes through your mind as he starts sucking on your neck again, renewing the hickeys already covering your soft skin. You ask if he is really serious about the whole wedding thing - and he says that once he saw you, he was certain that you will be worthy of his grandma's wedding ring. Jesus fucking christ...altough god isn't going to help you when your new husband is making you cum on his monster cock again.

4K notes View Post