#tw: gaslighting

[radio-writes]

What is Left of Me Without You?

Synopsis: Your husband didn't love you, not yet at least—that's what he told you. First, he wanted to see just how much you loved him.

Warnings: dubcon, smut, oral - m receiving, sex, abusive relationship, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, some misogyny, angst

Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader, reader is somewhere on the ace spectrum too

MDNI

To everyone in your town, you and your husband were the picture perfect couple.

Alastor, the bright, charming, down-right intoxicating radio host, walking down the street with you, his absolute darling of a wife on his arm.

Smiling, giggling, sharing hushed whispers. It looked as if the two of you were lost in your own lovely little world.

Even behind closed doors, Alastor proved himself to be the perfect gentleman. You never wanted for anything, never grieved, never felt lonely. 

If you so much as glanced at something by a storefront, Alastor would have it tied with a bow at the foot of your bed.

If anything caused you grief, or even inconvenienced you the slightest bit, Alastor would have dealt with it by the end of the day. 

If you ever felt lonely, well...

You supposed you didn't really have the right to feel lonely. Alastor was always there, wasn't he?

You woke up to the sound of your husband's humming. His smooth voice glided over each note skillfully as you peeled your eyes open.

The sight before you wasn't anything new: the other half of the bed empty and already fixed up. 

You turned to sit up, and found Alastor in front of your vanity as he straightened his bowtie. He caught your eye through the reflection, and his smile broadened.

The greater half of New Orleans would probably kill to be in your place right now. Seated in a lavish bedroom, your famous, dapper husband walking to your side of the bed to place a kiss on your hand. 

"Well good morning, darling! Don't you look adorable in this state." His sweet words greeted you.

It was there again, that odd feeling that sunk in your gut. What was that?

"Good morning, my dear." You greeted him back, ignoring whatever it was. A tired smile graced your lips as you peered up at him. "Headed to work already?" You asked him. 

"Why, of course! Who else would wake up New Orleans and tell all those sleepy bones to shake a leg and hop to work?" He struck a pose, hand on his chest. "Only yours truly, of course!" 

His warm chestnut eyes met yours through the lenses of his glasses. You let out a tired, soft laugh as you glanced away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks.

You adored this man—every single bit of him—so you found it hard not to get flustered over him, even after all this time. Hell, you were still counting your lucky stars that he chose to marry you of all people.

Why? Well, you tried not to ask yourself that.

He'd already given you his answer, hadn't he?

Alastor placed a chaste kiss to your cheek, quickly pulling you out of your thoughts before they could spiral. You looked back at your husband as he said something about having to run off or risk being late.

You remained sat in your bed, smiling and watching with hearts in your eyes as your darling husband waved on his way out of your room. 

"Looking forward to what you'll cook up this evening, sweetheart!" Alastor grinned, right before the door shut behind him.

And it was there again.

The gnawing feeling was coming by more and more frequently now. What was it?

Was it actually loneliness? But that would be so silly, wouldn't it?

Your husband didn't love you, but he trusted you. And that should be enough for now.

At least, that's what he said when he proposed.

You and Alastor knew each other for a very long time, and basically all of New Orleans knew you took a very strong liking to him.

Alastor had raised the proposition back then. You remember how he had explained that it would be a good thing for both your sakes. How you'd get to be with someone you loved oh so much, and how convenient it would be for him to finally get marriage out of the way. And even more so with a cherished friend like you!

Sure, you hesitated back then; unsure if you really wanted to marry a man who didn't love you the way you did him. But he sung you praises, he sung you promises.

You were darling, you were beautiful, you were smart, you were kind. How could he not grow to love you in your marriage? How could he resist falling for a such a doll who was offering him her heart?

So you said yes. 

Because you loved Alastor with every bit of your heart, but he simply just wasn't ready to love you back yet.

And he was such a lovely man who never failed to shower you with affection. Maybe you were just asking for too much—fretting over such small things—for you to feel upset about waking up without your husband beside you. 

And—and he was a radio host, after all. Of course he had to get to work early.

You really didn't need to spare it another second of thought.

No, what you really needed to focus on was how you could help your dear, hardworking husband.

You shook your head and slapped your hands softly against your cheeks. You've got to knock that annoying feeling loose. It was all so pointless.

With a more determined look, you got up from the bed. You neatly fixed the sheets and pillows, taking extra care to make sure every single wrinkle was smoothened out.

You silently ran over the list of tasks you had to do today.

Obviously there's cleaning and making sure the house was in order. It would be a real shame if Alastor came home to an untidy space. He's already out working late for both of you, the least you could do was make sure he had a clean home to rest in.

You ought to make time to drop by the market for some fresh meat to cook up. Alastor would surely be famished after work, right? And your mama always did say that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. 

You could also drop by the tailors and get the hem of one of your Alastor's dress shirts straightened out. He hasn't said anything about it, but he's avoided using that particular one for a while now. You knew the uneven stitches had to be bugging him.

Oh, you really needed to pass by a locksmith, too. That dang lock on the basement door still had not budged no matter what Alastor did, and you just could not find the key anywhere.

You've been waving the issue off for a while now—Alastor was right in saying there's no real rush to it, nothing really important down there, anyway—but it'd be nice to have the extra storage available to you again.

You let out a huffed breath and placed your hands on your waist. You held your head high and ready. "Right. Let's get this show started."

It was a busy day, as it always was for you. The hours ticked by as quickly as loose sand through an open palm.

You didn't have time to feel lonely, not when you were too busy scrubbing with all your might against a particularly stubborn grease stain on your sink. 

When the house was finally all neat, you got yourself ready to head out. Hair done, just a touch of make up, and a rather modest dress—at least as modest as Alastor had bought you. That man did lean towards the more finer tastes.

You felt it was a bit much just to do a few errands, but you were the sweet wife of a local personality. You had an image to uphold. You had to make sure you didn't do anything to tarnish your darling husband's reputation. 

This was just part of the whole package, you supposed. Nothing that can be done about it.

Heading out into the afternoon sun, you painted on a bright smile for all the kind people that greeted you. Cheery, happy, friendly. Oh, but not too friendly.

Meek, quiet, all prim and proper. The makings of a fine lady worthy of her spot by the dapper radio host's side.

You dropped your husband's shirt off by the tailors first. They seemed to be more than happy to rush your request once you let slip who it belonged to. They promised they could have it ready in just a few hours. You thanked them softly, and noted how they were such jolly workers, laughing even as you left the store.

You dropped by the locksmith before the market, not really wanting to carry out a bunch of raw meat as you went about your day.

The nicely dressed man was a bit—difficult to talk to. He seemed to think you had no idea what a door even was. He had just started explaining how you open a doorknob when you felt your cheeks start to strain from how hard you worked to maintain a smile.

"Oh dear me, would you look at the time," You politely cut him off, pretending to be shocked at how late into the day it was. "I am so sorry, sir, but my husband should be coming home any minute now and I haven't even started on dinner!" 

A lie. Alastor always came home late.

The man raised a brow at you in disbelief. Not that he didn't buy your act, but more judgmental that a woman would be so careless as to forget to take care of her spouse.

You ignore the look he gave you, keeping your shy smile on. "Maybe you could just sell me the tools. I could get my husband to work on it."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," The man shrugged. "I'll get what you need in a split, so you can run back and make a quick stew at the very least."

He ended up selling you the tools, along with a bunch of other needless things, with the assurance that your husband would definitely need them all.

You bit your tongue as you smiled and thanked him.

Why on earth would you need a box of nails and a bottle of glue to split a lock open?

But you really did not have it in you to stand in that shop any longer.

Besides, how would it look if the papers caught whiff of Alastor's sweet little wife yelling and lecturing a local shop keeper.

You couldn't burden your husband like that.

You hurriedly rushed to the market before they could close, buying the best cut of meat they still had at this hour, before you made your way back to the tailors to check on the progress.

The workers snickered as you entered, but you really didn't think much of it until they pulled out the dress shirt you dropped off.

A large, nasty stain of lord-knows-what sat right at the center of what used to be its pristine white color.

Your smile strained badly. "Oh dear, what on earth happened?" You asked with feigned worry. You already knew what happened.

"Afraid we spilled a bit of lunch on it, sweetie." One of the ladies explained, her companions giggling behind her. "Couldn't be avoided, unfortunately."

You felt your eye twitch.

"I'm sure a lovely doll like you could find a way to fix it. Wouldn't want that hotty husband of yours to leave your pretty face for something like this, would ya?" She went on.

"You better run, though. I heard the cleaners were planning on closing up early today." Another bitch woman spoke up.

Had you been any less horrified at your husband's ruined shirt, you would have been fuming.

You quickly took the shirt and paid, rushing out before you did anything stupid. Like cry.

Oh Alastor's rivals would have a field day twisting a story like that.

As you left the ladies called out "We did straighten the hem, darling!" And a more snarky, muttered comment, "Although, you'd think someone as handsome as Alastor could find a gal that could do something that simple herself."

The walk back home was probably the most tiring part of it all. Having to keep your back straight, your smile lovely, your voice friendly. Never letting the kind people know anything was wrong.

Because you knew those kind people were all itching to have any reason to gossip about your husband.

And you just couldn't have that.

Your shoulders finally sagged as you closed the door to your house. Your smile dropped immediately as you leaned against the door in exhaustion.

You stuffed the ruined shirt in your bag, thinking maybe your can throw it out later on, but you just knew Alastor would notice it was missing. He won't be happy with you, that's for sure.

Never mind that you've bent over backwards for the better half of a year to cater to him. Never mind that you've hidden all your faults under the rug. Never mind that you've been absolutely devoted to him even before your marriage.

You had to be perfect.

But you weren't. And you knew that. It seemed every other woman in New Orleans knew that. And now with the ruined shirt, Alastor would know that too.

He'll see you as less.

It's there again, that's stupid heavy feeling in your gut. Whatever it was.

You sighed in defeat. If you couldn't get the shirt fixed, maybe you could at least make sure he had a good meal to come home to? Maybe that could make him overlook your faults this time.

You burnt it. Somehow,—despite normally being an amazing cook every other time besides tonight—you managed to burn dinner.

You put your hands over your face, groaning in frustration, just absolutely exasperated. Why on earth was everything going wrong today. Why couldn't you just do one thing right? Why couldn't you just be of some help to Alastor? Why—

You lifted your face from your hands, attempting to slow your breathing. Your eyes glanced around your ruined kitchen and your burnt dinner, and that stupid shirt peaking out of your bag, and...the door to the basement? 

Right! Maybe there could still be one thing you could do right today.

You wiped your hands over your apron, immediately scrambling for the tools you bought earlier today. 

While you weren't the smartest when it came to these things, surely you could figure something out to try to loosen the lock.

You've watched your gentle husband fiddle around with the lock many times before, never opting to break the thing. You suspected he didn't want to look in any way violent in front of you, but you always thought it was so needlessly complicated.

You grabbed a hammer from the pile of junk and made your way towards the basement door. You tested the lock's strength with a few, rather light, taps of the hammer head. It didn't feel that sturdy. You thought you could definitely break it with a bit of force on your end.

You gripped the handle with both hands and brought the hammer down on it.

Once. The sound of metals clashing echoed in your house

Twice. You had to do at least this today.

Thrice. You can't be useless to him.

You smashed the hammer down onto the lock one more time and the battered thing fell to floor. 

Your eyes widened, lips spreading into grin out of relief.

Thank heavens, you managed something today. Alastor would be glad to hear this, at least. 

You bent over, picking up the fallen lock from the floor.

A weight pressed against you from behind.

Startled out of your wit, you stood up straight, just in time for whoever it was to flatten your body right against the basement door.

"What a lovely sight that was." You hear Alastor's voice right by your ear.

His head found home where your shoulder and head met. His nose trailed up against your skin as he breathed you in.

A gasp escaped your parted lips as you feel his hands squeeze the flesh of your hips harshly.

"Alastor?" You were partly dazed, confused what was happening.

His hips pressed against yours at the sound of his name from your mouth, and you all but recoil.

Alastor was rarely handsy, and that was fine by you. You actually realized that you much preferred it that way. Alastor's love being the only thing you ever really wanted from him.

Moments like these have always caught you off guard.

Because your husband knew that. He knew you weren't comfortable with being intimate. He knew you'd much rather have him just sit by you. He knew you weren't one to jump his bones.

And Alastor normally respected that.

"What a naughty little doll you are," Alastor's breath hot against your skin. "Welcoming a man home all bent over, presenting yourself." He whispered.

Your eyes widened, attempting to turn to face him, but his body kept yours pinned to the door.

"Baby, no. I," Your breathing had gone a bit ragged. "I was just picking up this lock here."

You raised your hand, showing the broken, battered lock in your grip. "I finally managed to open the stubborn thing." You tried to smile up at him over your shoulder, expecting praise.

Alastor's eyes stayed on the lock for a second too long you think, before his hand circled your wrist and yanked your arm behind your back. His swift hands made your other arm follow after it immediately.

The ache in your limbs, the grip he had on you, the shock of it all made the lock tumble right out of your grasp.

Alastor let out a hum of disappointment. "That's a real shame, sweetheart. I thought you were finally opening up to me." He said, his voice still filled with mirth. "Could have really used it tonight, too."

You felt him ground his hips against your clothed ass. His half hard cock evident against you.

He used one hand to keep your arms where they were, the other made its way to caress up your torso. His large palm trailing past your breasts, ending up by your soft cheeks.

Contrasting with the ones that held you still, his fingers were gentle against your face. His fingertips barely ghosted over your skin.

"I had a rather rough day at work, you see. Could you blame a man for wanting a little comfort from his wife?" He whispered.

The words hung in the air. Your lips unable to deny him, but unable to agree all the same.

A heartbeat passes, and suddenly you were free. Alastor stepped back from you, your body relaxing at the absence of his towering figure. 

"But what kind of ruffian would I be to force a lady to do that against her will," Alastor said, his tone rather carefree.

You turned around to finally face him, only to see him looking else where.

Your eyes followed his line of sight and you noticed the ruined shirt, pulled out of the bag, sitting right next to a burnt dinner, all framed by a horribly messy kitchen.

Alastor looked back at you, his charming smile ever present. "I'm sure you excel at all the other aspects of being a wife, anyway." He says, as if he hadn't just seen the failure you've made of your day.

He began to walk away, and your hand reached out before you could even think. Almost as if on reflex. Almost as if it's what you had to do.

You meekly pulled him back. His eyes watched you, almost expectantly, as you cupped your palms against his cheeks, and invited him down to meet you.

Your lips brushed chastely against his as he let out a satisfied hum.

You pulled away just enough to speak, your eyes looking up at him as your breaths mixed. "What...what can I do for you, my love?"

Alastor's smile stretched, his lips dipping down to meet yours again for a second time. His hand quickly found its way to the small of your back, heavy as he ushered you out of the kitchen.

"I think that's better discussed in the bedroom, darling." He purred against your ear.

You swallowed thickly against your tightening throat. 

Normally Alastor's hands on you were cherished, but you wanted nothing more than to squirm away from his hold right then. You knew where this was heading, but it just was not something you ever found appealing.

But you could do it for Alastor, right? You have done it for him before, anyway. 

Even if you didn't particularly enjoy it, at least you'd be satisfying your husband. At least you'd be close to him. At least you'd be useful to him.

Alastor, like the chivalrous gentleman he is, opened the door of your bedroom for you as he lead you in. You heard the click of the lock behind you, right before you were quickly tossed onto your bed.

You squealed as your felt your body bounce against the soft sheets. Your dress bunched up your thighs as you adjusted your legs.

Alastor stood at the foot of your bed, working his bowtie off with nimble fingers. "Darling, why so tense? It's only me." He says, his voice almost soothing.

But it was there again. That annoying feeling. It seems heavier than ever.

Was it really loneliness? 

How could you even be lonely now, when the man you love was waiting to mount you.

"I'm just nervous, that's all, darling," You managed to say honestly. "It hurt quite a bit last time."

Your eyes watched closely as Alastor's hand made quick work of the buttons in his vest, shrugging it off and placing his knee on the bed. His eyes trained on your reactions all the while, enjoying the flicker of uncertainty on your face as you bit your lip.

"I know a way we can ease that," He said. He reached out his hand to you, inviting you to take it.

Your shaky hand didn't hesitate. Because you'd do anything for this man.

You loved Alastor, so much, with your whole body, but he seemed to revel a bit too much in that knowledge.

He knew you could never deny him. So when your hand was in his, he pulled you closer, watching with delight as you awkwardly crawled to the end of your bed.

"Care for a box lunch, darling? It'd hurt less if we're a lot more slick." Alastor teased, chuckling as you looked at him with confusion.

The gears seemed to click in your head when one of his hand rested on your hair, the other worked his belt off.

"Oh," Was pretty much all you managed to squeak out. It was definitely not what you expected. 

You hadn't noticed that you tried to pull away until Alastor applied a bit more pressure on your scalp to keep you still. 

He pulled his heavy cock free from its confines. He ran his hand over it, lazily pumping the hardening member in his palm as his gaze was transfixed on you.

Your wide eyes watched every movement of his hand. Panicked, you seemed. Not unlike many panicked does he's shot down in the past.

Not unlike many panicked other things he's felt lose life under his hands.

"Something wrong?" Alastor mused, head tilting as he watched you flinch at the sight of his dick twitching.

Your eyes finally pulled away from your husband's groin, looking up to meet the man's lidded gaze behind his glasses. "We haven't really tried that before and," You bit your lip, unsure on how to proceed. "It just seems a bit deviant." 

"Well then it's lucky we're both in such safe company then, isn't it?" The hand in your hair loosened it's grip, opting to softly comb through your hair. The slight tension in your shoulders melted away. "I've been rather curious about what all fuss was about, didn't really have a partner I trusted enough before to try, though." 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. He saw how bad you messed up today, didn't he? He saw how miserably you failed at the simplest of tasks. But he still trusted you? He still trusted you enough to do something as unorthodox as this?

"I suppose I've been rather curious about it myself." You smiled up at him nervously, your hand reached out by your own choice to hold his hefty cock in your palm.

You were lying.

He knew you were lying and he loved it.

"Then open up, my dear." You heard him say, gently guiding your head closer to his crotch.

You decided looking up at your husband was easier than watching your own hand pleasure his shaft. You kept his gaze as you parted your lips, letting your soft tongue meet the skin of his head before wrapping your lips around it.

There was a rather salty taste in your mouth, a bit of his precum leaking onto your tongue. You tried not to cringe at the taste, choosing instead to focus on the way Alastor's brows furrowed when you took more of him into your warm, obedient mouth.

"How do I taste, darling?" He teased, knowing you couldn't answer. 

He looked down at you expectantly. Not knowing what else you could do, you began to slowly bob your head, keeping your lips wrapped around his shaft.

You took your time, slowly letting more of him past your lips each time you sank your head back down. Eyes trained on your husband's face, part of you wondering if he'd praise you if you did a well enough job. But it seemed your efforts offered far too little friction for Alastor's patience.

His hips started moving against your face. Softly at first, but he soon began to push at your head to meet his thrusts.

The head of his hard cock nudged your throat and you choked. Your hands immediately went to his hips, nails digging in with how hard you held onto him. 

Tears forms in your eyes as you looked up at your husband, and your heart immediately filled with panic when you were met with a look of disappointment. 

"Hmm. Seems this might have been too much for you to handle." He sighed, finally pulling you off his dick.

A string of saliva stayed between the head of his cock and your lips as you coughed and gasped for air. 

But even as your jaw throbbed, you went to reach your hand out and tried to lean back in towards his dick. "No, no. I can do it, I promise," You said hurriedly.

"There's no need to force yourself, my darling wife," Alastor tutted, pushing you back by your shoulder, stopping you from getting another chance to prove yourself. "We can't help that you have your limits."

"I just need practice." You swore, looking up at your husband. You hated that you disappointed him again.

His fingers reach out to tilt your chin up, making space for his lips at your neck as he slowly pushed you back into the bed with his own body.

"If you ask nicely enough, I'm sure we can have you try again another time," Alastor said softly, as if granting you such a troublesome request.

The back of your head softly met your pillows as Alastor nudged your legs apart with his knee.

He slotted himself between your legs, grinding his slick cock impatiently against your panties. His groan was practically breathed into your ear.

You wanted to hear more of it. While you weren't particularly eager for sex, you were starved for your husband's praises. And if this is what it took then so be it.

You bucked your hips up to remove your underwear, your groin meeting his lazy thrusts as you did. 

"And here I was beginning to think you didn't want me." Alastor jested as he parted from your neck to help you rid yourself of your underwear. His long fingers slid the flimsy thing down one leg and let it stay on the other.

"There probably isn't a woman in this apple that doesn't want you, my love." You half-joked, but your soft laugh abruptly ended in a gasp.

Alastor pressed the thick head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pushing in just the smallest bit. "You're most likely right," He said, watching as your eyes closed at his trespass. "But you are the only one lucky enough to have me."

And you should know it.

Your back arched as your husband pushed past the tight hole of your entrance. What little resistance your walls made barely bothered him as his throbbing head forced your walls apart.

His hands dug into the sheets by your body. The smooth covers wrinkling in his grip as he strained to stay still.

"This alright for you, darling?" He asked, running his thumb softly under your eye to coax you into looking at him.

Your heart fluttered. Even when in such carnal need he cared about your silly little wants. You pry your eyes open to see Alastor peering down at you with a smile.

"I could stay with this much if you need me to." He told you, rocking hips barely moving. The head of his cock nearly slipping out before he pushed back in, just until it disappeared again into your warm walls.

He was being so kind and accommodating, you couldn't bring yourself to be so needlessly selfish.

Your cunt strained to take even just his very tip, but it was so pointless to let something like that get in the way. Your petty little apprehensions shouldn't matter. Not when you're with your husband.

Your lips strained to force a smile. "I think I can take more, my dear."

It was all Alastor really needed to hear. he dragged his dick out of you, letting it slip out. Wanting you to feel how empty you were without him. Before he rammed his hips against yours; sheathing his cock fully in your warm cunt.

"What a gal," Alastor praised. "Loving, kind, and gentle, but takes a cock like she's on the clock in a call house."

Alastor loved the way you keened at his words.

He loved the way you yearned for his touch, even when you both knew it wasn't your game.

He loved the way you worshiped him, always so desperate to please him.

Oh, how he loved how you were always so ready to give him everything. 

Alastor loved you, but just not in the way you hoped.

When you woke up the next morning, the view in front of you wasn't anything new.

Alastor's half of the bed was empty. The previously rumpled sheets for the previous night's rendezvous were pristine and smoothened out once more.

It was there again. Whatever that feeling was. 

You assumed it's going to be here for a while.

Alastor seemed to have already headed out before you awoke, not that it felt any different from other mornings.

With a sigh you made your bed. Once again going over everything you had to do for the day.

You had to clean—because you always had to clean—but more so now knowing you left quite the mess yesterday. You have to stop by the market once more, maybe look through clothing stores to find a new shirt for Alastor.

You didn't want him upset with you over that after all. While he didn't bring it up, you knew it still likely bothered him.

You made your way to the kitchen, ready to get the day started.

Except something glimmered as you walked by it. Your head turned to its direction, seeing the same padlock you broke the night before in perfect condition—back on the door to the basement.

Your brows furrowed as you approached it. Fingers gingerly examining the cold metal.

But, how could it be back on here? You swore you broke this stubborn thing last night.

From the corner of your eye, you see a note on the counter, immediately recognizing Alastor's messy handwriting. 

Yes, of course. He must have replaced the old one and fixed whatever damaged you did on the door while you were asleep. That would easily explain it.

You picked up the note, smiling softly to yourself at how silly it was to be confused.

It was a brilliant bash, my darling, but it seems this lock is just much too sturdy :(

Don't fret! I'll find a way to open it eventually! Do try to stay away from the tools though, dear. We wouldn't want you hurting your soft delicate hands!

Yours, Alastor

P.S.

I'd prefer a little less char on the meat this time! Haha!

You tried to reread the note several times, wondering if your husband was pulling your leg again. 

You broke this lock, you knew you did.

You swung a hammer at it thrice and it broke. 

Thrice? Or was it four times?

Whatever, the count didn't matter.

Or did it? 

You remained where you stood, confused at what to believe. The note still clutched in your hands.

Did you really break the lock last night? Or were you just so desperate to get something right that your fooled yourself into thinking that?

If you broke the lock then why was it still there now? Why would your darling husband tell you otherwise?

The only reasonable conclusion was that you didn't.

Surely, that made sense, right?

Your eyes stared at the note. Alastor's name seemingly bright against everything else. 

No other possibility made sense. Besides, if Alastor trusted you enough to marry you, it only made sense to return that privilege.

Right.

Your eyes lifted from the note, to the kitchen in front of you. The mess you made still loud and present and ugly. 

There was no use standing there fretting over such a silly, pointless, thing. Not when you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Who really cares about a dumb little lock, anyway? Didn't you have such a long list of tasks to do today?

Like proving your worth

To yourself

To the world

To your husband. 

Part 1 of 2 I hadn't intended for this fic to run as long as it did, and the best part was yet to come. It would have taken ages to get this out if I didn't cut it into half. Anyway, Read part 2 of 2 here!

#tw: dubcon #tw: manipulation #tw: gaslighting #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #vien writes #I googled 30s dirty talk and I just could not use any of them with a straight face so I made my own renditions to make them more palatable #do not come for my ass for the wrong use of old timey linggo in this one please #don't come for me for my slow writing either

[ghouljams]

I got brain rot of Cowboy!König just being so fucking frustrated over his darling sometimes because she’s so sweet and trusting and just a bit naive so she does stupid things like leave her doors unlocked so he has to go and lock them for her just so that he has some peace of mind.

He will never know peace with Bee. Even when they get together she's the type of person to go, "Why would I worry about that? König will handle it." And he will but Christ woman, worry about something, please.

You are so interminably trusting it is bordering on insane. König twists the knob on your front door and sighs when it opens with little fuss. When you’d talked about how safe this town felt he really had hoped you didn’t mean it was “leave your door unlocked” safe. Apparently you had. He slid the door open enough to let himself in, and shut it quietly behind him.

He may as well, you practically left him an invitation after all. Stupid. Naive. You’re a woman living alone, shouldn’t you know better?

He thinks you keep your spare keys in your kitchen. Really you should have offered him one with how often you see each other, but it’s fine, he’ll grab one for himself and lock up while he’s at it. König is quiet searching your kitchen drawers, mindful of the clink of silverware as he eases each drawer open to look for your keys. It’s late enough that you should be dead asleep, but one can never be too careful. Nothing. He goes to check the table by the door, wincing at the creak of unoiled wood sliding against itself. He pauses, sliding his fingers carefully into the opening to feel for- yes, there it is.

A little ring with two pink metallic keys. He slides one off and takes a moment to put it on his own key ring before replacing the spare and sliding the drawer back into place. There, nothing left but to lock up. 

He hesitates, his hand on the front door waiting to open it. What is stopping him from leaving? No. What’s stopping him from staying? Your little orange cat winds its way around his legs, just as eager to see him as its mother always is. König bends down to scoop it up, feeling the rumble of its purr and scratching between its ears.

“Bringen wir dich zurück zu deiner Mutter,” He tells it with a low whisper. That’s what’s stopping him, he wants to see you. 

He knows where your room is, of course, up the stairs and at the end of the little hall. Your old floors may creak for you, but he’s never had any trouble. Your door is open, your windows are open, you are open. Sleeping soundly under the cool breeze from the ceiling fan, looking so sweet and soft, and vulnerable. 

This was the problem. You left yourself too vulnerable to threats. It’s just not healthy. What if something were to happen and he wasn’t here? He sets the cat down on the floor, and brushes a strand of hair off your face. Pretty. His pretty girl.

You make a soft noise as the cat jumps on the bed, and he- God- No, no, he has to go. He can’t stay. He can’t.

It is a long walk back to the front door, but he doesn’t forget to lock it behind him.

König is such a worry wart sometimes, you think it’s funny that a man his size is worried about safety. He looks like a one man army, but he always double checks that he locked his front door before he leaves. You just wait for him in the truck, eager to get to town and get your weekly shopping done. When he finally gets in the cab and turns the truck on, you catch a flash of pink hanging with the rest of his keys. It looks just like one of your house keys, but that can’t be right.

“Is that my key?” You ask, feeling something pull in your gut, König glances down at his key ring, “How did you get my key?”

“You gave me one, did you forget?” König says with a frown, “You said you needed someone to feed the cat when you go into the city.” You nod hesitantly, thinking. Did you give him a key? You do need someone to feed Spot when you have to make the trek out to civilization. 

“Huh, yeah I- Thanks for that, I guess.” If König says you asked him you must have. He’s got no reason to lie to you.

#cowboy!Konig #konig x reader #konig x you #oc: Bee #x reader #Does the nasty boy snap a lil picture of bee while she's sleeping? #that's up to you but probably #dude you are such a creep(affectionate) #tw: gaslighting #full stop he is gaslighting you bee #also everyone peep that Bee is a star trek nerd on the dl #The cat was a housewarming present from Goose #könig modern warfare #könig cod #colonel könig #cod x reader #cod x oc

[candiid-caniine]

my favorite thing about denial is the opportunities for mindfuckery. gaslighting and emotional manipulation, in particular.

"if you want to cum so bad, why do you get so wet when you're denied?"

"you came just now. yes you did. are you such an edged-out slut that you don't remember what it feels like? i know you came, and i didn't give you permission, so now you're in big trouble."

"but your hole feels so much better when it's denied. don't you want to make me feel good?"

"if you could just stop touching yourself so much, maybe you'd be able to prove you deserve to cum."

"every time i tell you 'no,' you get wetter. i don't care if you don't believe me, i can feel it."

"your orgasms are so special for me, and i don't want them to lose their specialness. don't you want to save them for special occasions? if you just cum all the time, i'll get so bored of it..."

"if you won't give them up for me, you don't really respect me."

"only sluts cum every day. do you want to be a slut? because i have no problems treating you like one."

"when you stop being so pathetic, maybe i'll let you cum."

fuck. when they say shit like this to me,,

#0rgasm denial #edging kink #t4t nsft #h/d #denial #only barks #tw: gaslighting #tw: manipulation #dizzy

[doki-doki-imagines]

It's Okay if you can handle yandere things, can you do the lin kuei trio, syzoth and raiden if they were a yander, i wanna know what's on your mind :D

tw: yandere, toxic relationships (obvs), gaslight, baby trapping, abuse (physically and mentally), death (not reader or characters), if I forgot a trigger tell me so I can add it🫡.

Raiden: -King of gaslight. -"Don't you remember I told you I was going to train? Why do you always trust her, she keeps tricking you! Don't you remember that one time?" -He didn't go out to train, no friends have ever tricked you. -It's impossible for your humble and kind boyfriend to lie to you. He only wants what is best for you. -That's why on your own accord (it's what Raiden keeps telling you) you have no friends, and don't go out. Your boyfriend already gives everything you need and want. -So when you cry alone in a corner of your room, it's just because you are the stupid one because anybody would be happy with what you have (or at least, that's what Raiden tells you).

Syzoth: -What more do you want? You already bear his children. That should be the apex of your life. -That's his strategy, always having kids, so you won't be able to go out. Syzoth taking care of food and every other basic care. -Your life will be forever centred on him and your kids, nothing else, no other important value, not even yourself. -"Act well, if you lose me, you lose yourself." -You can only nod like the mindless pawn you became.

Kuai Liang: -He is always angry, more often than not taking his anger on your body. -"Sorry fireball, I'll never do it again, I swear, stay with me. Forever." -It's never the last time he hurts you, but you believe him every time, cheeks hurting, throat purple, tears never stop flowing from your eyes. -Liang will try to keep you locked in his mansion as much as possible. No Shirai Ryu trainees should be able to see you, and you mustn't even look at other men other than him. -Or women. -The time you talked with Harumi, you couldn't even open your eyes the next day, face beaten up, and you had to take care of the wounds alone. -But every time, Liang promises that he loves you and you can't do anything other than believing him.

Tomas Vrbada: -He is the classical yandere, lovebombing you, saying that he can't live without you. -Killing every person that gets close to you; they should learn to stay in their space, those cockroaches. -Tomas can just think of you, and he'll make sure you will return the obsession. Not physically obliging you, but by eliminating every distraction that you have. -May the distractions be your friends, your parents, your pets… they all have the same value to him. -Zero.

Bi-Han: -Sadly, I think that even normal Bi-Han has toxic tendencies, mostly because he doesn't know how a normal relationship works. -You mustn't interact with other men. You mustn't have hobbies. -Your entire life should be dedicated to Bi-Han and Bi-Han only. -You won't even have the whole mansion for yourself. He'll imprison you in a small room, and he only has access to it. -Bi-Han will personally deliver anything you need, no contact with any other human being is allowed. -The cell doesn't have any window, so you can't even understand for how long you've been there. -Don't try to think too much, or you'll become crazy, just accept your fate.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #tw: yandere #tw: gaslighting #tw: abuse #mk1 raiden #syzoth #tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #kuai liang #mk1 scorpion #bi han #mk1 sub zero #shit this should have been posted tomorrow...WELP #anyway do you wanna know what's better than exploring this fucked up interactions with yan!characters? #writing about toxic!reader fucking the characters up👍🏻

[crybaby-bkg]

our love is god

Gojo Satoru x f!reader Warnings: gaslighting, emotional manipulation (both light but current themes), codependency, get togethers and then break ups, reader cries a lot in the later half lol, cowgirl position, heavy petting, unsafe sex, creampies, baby trapping, hinted stalker gojo, drinking at a party. I think that's all but pls tell me if I missed anything. other than that, enjoy!! Word Count: 8.2k Notes: I can’t write him normally I fear </3 nor can I write a fic for him without including a title from the heathers lol anyway, he’s not as obsessed in this fic as I originally intended, but I still enjoyed writing this so :) I hope you all enjoy reading it!!! 🖤 Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

When Gojo first introduces himself to you, you’re the definition of unimpressed. He’s all pretty white smiles and even whiter hair, shining blue eyes with a knack of typically getting anyone he wanted. It’s why he took such a liking to you and your indifference to him, his status, his charms. 

So, you’re still not sure how you ended up dating him after almost a year of pursuing you. You’re stubborn, you can admit, but also weak for the idiot that is Gojo Satoru. He’s still as annoying as he was when you first met him, but there’s something about him now, that has captivated you. Maybe it was his persistence, or his wits, or the never ending love that spilled from between his ribcage whenever he was near you. 

Either way, you find yourself tied to his hip most days. Even though your majors in college are different, you’re still together more than people expected. Despite living together, being around the other is a necessity, a need, akin to each breath you exhale that he inhales into his own greedy mouth. You have your first class and he meets you for a quick break before his second; you have the whole afternoon off on Wednesday’s and you wait for him at the campus cafe you first met at; you want to stay home to study and he drags you off to a night with his friends. 

You don’t think that he can live without you. Not necessarily in the sense of being a man child and being unable to provide for himself, no. Gojo Satoru could do whatever he wanted, and did, long before you two had met. But, you think its a certain codependency that starts cracking at the perfect mirror that is your relationship. 

“Don’t you wanna be a stay at home wife after you graduate?” Satoru whispers in your ear, his mouth pecking your flesh as he hugs you tight to his chest. You’re on your couch, thighs split open to accommodate the thickness of him, his legs and his cock carving its way inside of you. The way your breath hitches doesn’t go unnoticed by the blue eyed man, but he can’t pinpoint if its from his words or the way he slowly pushes his hips upward until his tip nudges that sweet spot inside you 

“What are you talking about, ‘Toru?” You ask shakily, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, burying your face in his skin. But Gojo doesn’t let you escape, instead pries you away from his body until you’re forced to lean back on his knees. He likes this view the most, when you’re vulnerable, when he gauges you with things he knows will require complete honesty, that its harder to hide from him like this. 

“You heard me,” Satoru grins, nodding his head toward you. He holds your waist in too big hands, drinking you with all too knowing eyes, grin too wide to be anything else but devious. “Didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a stay at home wife before?”

“I never s-said that,” you whisper back, eyes fluttering shut when he starts using your body to fuck his cock. He fills you up in a familiar way, a way that you know you’ll always come home to, even when you get that sinking feeling that you should run. Gojo pouts at you, leaning his head back on the couch until all you see is his stare down the bridge of his nose, his Adams apple bobbing when he swallows down a moan. 

“Didn’t you?” Satoru questions, grin widening when he thrusts a little harder than you expect, feeling you clamp down tighter around him. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut before they flutter open to glare at him, rolling your hips to get some friction on your neglected clit. 

“Stop it, ‘Toru, you always do this.” You groan under your breath, leaning your own head back to rest between your shoulders. 

The few hiccups you had in your relationship with Satoru always centered around his…cockiness, knowing he could get anything he wanted. While it was both a factor that helped you into this relationship with him, it also chips away at your love for him everyday. It’s nothing wrong with being ambitious, of knowing what you want. But its something completely different when that want goes against what your partner is saying isn’t okay with them. 

He’s done this before, with little trivial things. Don’t you love this kind of ramen? Even though he knew you had an aversion to spicier foods. Don’t you want to change your major to this instead? Even though you were sure and loved the major you had before. Don’t you want to change for me? Erase your identity for me? Become one symbiotic being fused into me? Don’t you want to live in my skin, as I want to with yours? Don’t you love me? 

“I do not,” Gojo huffs, leaning forward to grip your head on both sides, leveling your glare with his own relaxed one. “You just have so much going on in that pretty little head of yours, that you forget things sometimes.”

“I think I would remember saying I wanted to waste away all the years I worked my ass off for college, just to stay at home and be up under you everyday.” You snip back, losing your concentration for your impending orgasm, growing more and more frustrated as he keeps yapping his stupid mouth. Gojo must sense this though, as his hands slither down to your hips, holding you still as he fucks up into you hard enough that you cry out and topple over into his chest. 

“That doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea to me,” Satoru grunts out, holding you close as he keeps snapping his hips into you. It’s like something within him has changed in just a split second; like you speaking the words aloud have rung true in his mind. It should scare you, that he’s not paying attention to the sarcasm in your voice, nor your disdain for the idea itself. But, he doesn’t stop snapping his hips until you cry out and shake in his lap, cunt clenching down around him sporadically as you mewl into his skin. 

“I like the idea of coming home to you,” he grunts in between breaths, still using your hole even though you whine to him about sensitivity. “With a big rock on your finger, all domestic, waiting and dependent on me.” 

He whispers the last part, squeezing you to him even tighter before you feel him shoot ropes of cum inside of you. Its warm—and always familiar—making you sigh as you slump into him even more. You let him finish before hearing him let out a final low grunt, pulling you into him until your head is tucked under his chin. You sit there in silence, feeling him still throbbing inside of you, and you think he must still be having those stay at home wife fantasies. You want to put an end to them immediately, so you speak up in the quietness of the room,

“Don’t get stuck in your head thinking your fantasy will become reality, Satoru.” You remind him, pinching his side where your arms rest. You can hear his smile in his voice when he speaks, wrapping long arms tight around you, so tight you fear you may never escape. 

“It always does.” He singsongs, pecking the crown of your head before resting his cheek on top of it. You frown, going to pull away, but he holds you so tight, that your breath momentarily escapes you. 

“Well, not this time.” You mumble, feeling the tiredness of a long week start to overtake you. Gojo doesn’t say anything for a long time until he’s sure you’re sleep, whispering into the air, 

“We’ll see about that.” 

…

You’re surprised that Gojo is surprised when you break up with him. You thought he would’ve been able to see it coming, especially since you had started pulling away in your last few weeks together. Instead of spending damn near every moment together, suddenly you were always busy with something else; you couldn’t go to the cafe, couldn’t sneak into empty hallways between classes, couldn’t come to the parties his friends would throw. 

He thought he could pull you into him more during these moments, discuss things he knew you loved, dropped subjects he knew would push you away. But it was too late for any of that—you were checked out of this relationship before your mouth could even form the words. 

“You don’t mean that.” Gojo mutters under his breath, the fringe of his hair blocking his vision as his head hangs low between his shoulders. He sits on that same couch where he tried to convince you that his dream of you dropping everything to become a stay at home wife was your idea. The thought makes your stomach churn—he’s always done this to you. Always planted ideas in your head that you knew weren’t true, but if Satoru said it, then there must be some sort of truthfulness in it, right? 

“I do.” You say firmly, back straight where you stand in front of his hunched over form on the couch. Your body is poised to run in case he does something unhinged, and you’re sure he won’t, but you refuse to take any chances. He gets quiet for a long while, before croaking out a quiet,

“Why? What did I do?” You could scoff. What did he do? What didn’t he fucking do to you to drive you to this point? 

What was the driving force to disconnecting from him? You wonder if it was the codependency that he forced upon you, like he couldn’t live without you? If it was the constant messages of your whereabouts that shredded you thin, when you weren’t around him, when you tried to be independent? Was it the clinginess? The feeling of his skin glued to yours all the time, the feeling of being trapped in his shadow? Was it the overbearing love, the struggle to breathe on your own? Was it all of it? But instead of expressing any of this, all you can spit out is a meekly excuse,

“I just don’t think we’re meant to be together.” You whisper, suddenly ashamed at your cowardice. You had a whole speech prepared on how you would break up with him, how you’d point out his flaws, his incapacity to love you as a person and not as a possession. But you swallow it all down, afraid too much will come back up, that you’ll ruin the front of your clothes with your verbal bile that he won’t be able to clean like he used to anymore. 

“That’s it, huh?” Satoru asks you quietly, craning his neck slightly so that a glowing blue eye can peek through his fringe. It unnerves you more than it should, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand with every passing second. He knows there’s more to it, more that you refuse to say, but honestly, you’re not sure if its worth it anymore. You just want to leave. 

“That’s it.” You nod, finality barely lacing your tone, as you still stand on shaky grounds. You clear your throat and look around the apartment, wringing your hands together as Gojo continues to watch you. 

“I’ll, uh, get my clothes and stuff tomorrow. You can keep everything else.” You tell him, avoiding his gaze as your eyes dart over to the front door. You wonder, if he chases you, will you be able to make it out alive? 

“Where are you going to live?” He asks you, finally lifting his upper body so that he sits up on the couch, his hands folded neatly in his lap. You don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of you yet. 

“Me and a friend found an apartment not too far from campus.” You don’t want to disclose too much information, afraid he would find you and pretend that you guys never broke up. Pretend that everything is okay, and be glued right back to your flank as if nothing had ever happened. Or maybe you just think the worst of him, you conclude, when Gojo smiles at you. It’s not as unsettling as you would think, more on the side of acceptance, but it baffles you all the same. 

He unfurls himself from the couch, standing too tall, too broad, too intimidating, despite the fact that he curls in a little to keep you from being scared. He opens his arms to you, and you try not to stare at the bulging muscles beneath his black tee, muscles that are all too familiar and call your name to come running back home. 

“Well, okay then.” Gojo finally speaks after what feels like hours. “I wish you the best.” His voice sounds all too genuine, all too sweet and convincing. 

He’s taking this…well? Gojo, who wouldn’t let you breathe in your own breaths without his mouth being pressed right against yours? Whose heart slowed to the rhythm of your own to always be in sync? Who would hold you close every night, almost as if in fear that you would escape in the night and leave him stranded? He’s…alright with you breaking up with him?

Like you’re under a spell, your feet move heavily until they fit perfectly between his own spread ones, arms coming up to his sides until he embraces you tightly. He’s warm, always is, and smells so familiar that you feel your own heart ache knowing that his scent will become a haunting memory instead of the comfort of home. He wraps you up in him until his arms squeeze your shoulders and your face is buried into his chest. 

You don’t realize that you’re crying until he kisses the top of your head, shushing you to stop your hiccuping sobs as you cling to his shirt. Why are you crying? This was your decision after all. But why does him accepting your breakup hurt more? Why didn’t he fight for you? He would always fight for you. 

“Okay, I have a lecture in about twenty minutes.” Gojo tells you, a signal to pull away, and you do, but it hurts more than it really should. You wipe your face with your sleeve, avoiding his eyes as he holds you back by the shoulders, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. 

“I’ll always love you, you know that?” He tells you, eyes searching your face. You swallow down a hiccup, scrubbing at your eyes petulantly as you nod a few times. 

“I hope you have a successful life.” You can almost hear him tacking on a quiet without me, but he only smiles at you again before pecking your forehead one last time. After that, he squeezes your shoulders before he lets you go, turning on his heel as he starts gathering a few things. He’s at the door in what feels like seconds, his broad back facing you, feeling you staring at him. He turns his neck until his eye catches your own, winking at you once before opening the door and walking out. 

It’s the last time you see Gojo for a while, and it makes you feel emptier than you care to admit. 

…

As time goes on, you start to get better. Things get a little easier to deal with, you start gaining more independence while living with your friend, start going out more, getting better grades. You never thought that you were necessarily a terrible match with Satoru, but you think in certain aspects that he held you back more than you ever recognized in those moments. 

But, overall, everything is going fine. Well, mainly everything, save for your love life. 

You wanted to take a break from dating after being in your relationship with Gojo for over a year, but its been eight months since you split, and you don’t see yourself getting with anyone else in the meantime. You’re in your last year of college, so you’re hoping for some kind of hookup before you graduate, but it feels like something else is off. Like the people around you avoid you when you’re near if they aren’t already yours friends, like they’re hesitant to be near you without setting clear boundaries that they’re not interested in you at all. 

You chalk it up to your past with Gojo, as most people knew you were together. Maybe they’re scared of pissing him off and getting with his ex. You’ve heard rumors from people that he thinks you’ll get back together soon, but you’re not sure if these words actually came from him, or if people just like to gossip. Either way, you try to let it roll off of your back, and put yourself out there to people who don’t go to your school. 

Which still ends up being a dud. You think you just might be cursed, or something. You can’t even get laid with a random hookup! You’re sure its Gojo doing something to make everyone lay off of you, but you also haven’t spoken to him since the breakup, so you’re not sure if confronting him about it is a great idea. 

Except, the choice is taken from you when you find yourself in the cafe that you first met him in, and he’s there too. You hadn’t noticed him, if he was already there when you came, or if he slithered in after you, but he’s there. Sitting diagonal from your booth, facing you, hands under his chin as he yaps away to his friend, Suguru. You remember the guy well, although you were never too close with him, and he seems intrigued with whatever Gojo is blabbering on about, which is typically unusual. 

Your eyes quickly flit back over to your laptop screen where you text who you’re sure will be another unsaved contact from a dating app, pretending to not see the white haired man. But luck hasn’t been on your side in a while, as you can see him perk up from the corner of your eye as his whole body turns to you, his conversation abruptly cutting off. He calls your name once and you pretend not to hear him, but then he’s standing and making his way over to you, and you fear you can’t avoid him any longer. 

“Long time no see.” Gojo greets you, standing over your table with too big a grin. You act surprised at the sight of him, gasping a little before raising your eyebrows, fingers slowing in their typing until they stop. 

“Hey, its been a while, hasn’t it?” You ask, even though you know, and you’re sure he knows too, that you’ve been avoiding him as much as humanly possible. But Gojo only smiles wider at you, cocking his head to the side as he takes you in shamelessly, and you do the same. 

He looks…bigger, than he did before, his shoulders broader, his physique just a little wider than you remember. He looks more relaxed than you think he would be, after you unceremoniously breaking up with him, and then actively avoiding him for almost an entire year after that. He looks…good. 

“May I?” Gojo asks, referring to the seat in the booth across from you. You stutter for a second, wondering if you should allow him back in, even if its in the tiniest amount. You did last time, in this same cafe, and ended up with him glued to your very being. You don’t know if you’re strong enough to unstick him another time. But you swallow and force a smile, nodding once to the empty space in front of you. 

“Sure,” you mumble, trying to quickly shut out the dating app on your laptop, exiting out of the messages without looking too obvious. But its like Gojo always knows when something is up, and he rests his chin in his hand as the other taps at the table, too loud in the quiet cafe. 

“Meet anyone new yet?” He asks, making your eyes shoot up to his own guiltily. But he smiles that easygoing smile at you, making you suck in a deep breath as you finally calm enough to close out the app. 

“No luck in that department yet. Not sure if its an unfortunate thing, though.” You hum, eyes flittering up to his own that are covered by his infamous circled glasses. He never really wore them when he was around you, and you feel weird by the sudden melancholy that overtakes you at the thought. You’ve grown without me, Satoru, you don’t treat me the same anymore. I thought you always would. 

“Me neither, but I don’t think its unfortunate.” He tells you, tilting his head a little to the side as he huffs out a humorless laugh. You want to ask him what he means by that, but you’re afraid of the answer. Thankfully, he speaks before you find out what his statement really meant. 

“How were you grades last semester? Did you end up passing that dick professor’s class?” Gojo asks softly, all of his attention on you, makes you feel a little overwhelmed, and all too familiar. But if its a negative thing, you can’t really figure it out. You didn’t like the constant attention, the clinginess and dependency, but there was something about someone so devoted to you. Someone who looked at you like you molded lighting bolts in hand and struck down soft soil to create the earth. Someone who looked at you like you held the secrets of their life behind your teeth, like some prophet one could only wish to get close to. 

“I passed. Barely.” You mumble, smiling a little when Gojo celebrates with a clap and a small cheer, making Suguru turn around slightly to catch the commotion. He calms when he sees you sink in on yourself in embarrassment, smiling at you all the while with a look too familiar. That goes on for what feels like hours, like the entire world has sunken away, drowned out into a blurry nothingness as your background. 

Here, its just you and Satoru. Here, there are no issues or problems in your relationship. Here, you love him and he loves you and that is enough. Here, your love for him conquers all doubt and fear. Here, your love is perfect. 

The spell is broken suddenly when Gojo leans back in the booth, stretching a little. You feel the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding come flooding back to you, making you slump over a little in your seat. A ding from your computer signals suddenly, making your eyes dart over to the notification. Its from the dating app, the guy you were just texting suddenly telling you that he can’t make it to your date tonight, but that he’d love to see you after midnight at his place. 

You deflate, and Gojo is far too perceptive. He clears his throat once, making your eyes snap back over to him in surprise, and then quickly guilt. But why do you feel so guilty? You’re single, you broke up with him. But its something about the way his mouth twitches at the corner, that makes shame sink deep into the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll see you around,” Gojo says lowly, tipping his head at you and standing before you can get a word out. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, before managing to spit something out, 

“And I’ll—I’ll see you!” You cringe the moment the words leave your mouth. But Gojo only gives you a half smile, reaching out to rub gently at the crown of your head, an act he would always do whenever you did something he was quite fond of. You guess things never really change. 

…

Your roommate had convinced you to go to a party with her, one to celebrate the end of your fall semester. You were reluctant at first, but after the umpteenth rejection, you decide your ego needs some kind of boost. Since it was a little colder, you dressed warm, but still adorned something that you hope would draw more eyes to your form. 

When you get there, the party is in full swing. There’s a loud bass playing somewhere in the house, people littering the dance floor, cups of mysterious juice being passed around to everyone who enters. As you make your way inside, you quickly lose sight of your friend, and it doesn’t bother you as it usually would. 

Tonight, you’re on the hunt for someone new—someone not Gojo. But, you think you might’ve personally pissed off a deity or something, because of fucking course, he’s there at the party. Sitting on a couch between his friends with his too long limbs and dark glasses despite it damn near being pitch black in the house, save for some colorful lighting strobing across the walls. 

You catch his face, a stream of a soft baby blue gracing his features, at the same time his head turns in your direction. Even though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s looking at you. You can always tell when he is. And he smiles a little smile, tipping his head and his cup to you, and awkwardly, you do the same back before stiffly turning on your heels to head for the kitchen. 

It’s just as stuffy in there as the rest of the house, but there is a little more breathing room. You take a second to catch your breath, mumbling a quick apology to whatever deity you pissed off, before grabbing a cup. 

“Hey, can you pour me some too?” A voice rings out from beside you, making you perk up in surprise. You look over and find a pretty handsome guy beside you, smiling and offering a red solo cup in your direction. He smiles when you look at him, and you smile back with a nod. 

“Of course. Tell me when,” you say over the loud music, filling up his cup and laughing when a little spills over because the guy is too busy looking at you. He chuckles under his breath, grabbing a few napkins to wipe up the mess as he stands there watching you pour your own drink. 

“I don’t usually fumble this bad, you know.” The guy tells you, pretty smile beaming as you look at him from over your cup, mirth shining in your eyes. You cock an eyebrow at him, resting your hip against the counter. 

“Oh, really?” You tease, to which he nods quickly. “So I just make you nervous then, huh?” You grin, to which he grins back cheekily, shrugging a little as he forgoes an answer to take a swig of his drink. Conversation with the guy goes smoothly for a few minutes, before he suddenly turns stone still, looking over your shoulders. You cock an eyebrow, repeating your previous question, before turning to see what’s captured his attention. You don’t see anybody, and when you go to ask him what’s wrong, you discover that he’s already disappeared into the crowd. 

The rest of the night goes eerily like this, like there’s some bad omen just lingering above your head, like there’s some warning sign strapped to your chest telling people to stay far away. Every conversation that you start with someone ends up the same; a look over your shoulder, before turning pale, and scurrying away with some excuse about having to be somewhere else. 

By the end of the night, you have to bite back tears in the bathroom as you stare yourself down in the mirror. Is it your clothes? Your breath? Your makeup? What the fuck is driving everyone away from you like some walking disease?

The answer to your question pops up in front of you the moment you swing the bathroom door open. Gojo stands in the doorway, entirely too tall, entirely too broad, entirely too handsome. Maybe its the few drinks you’ve downed in the past couple minutes, but the alcohol in your belly is pulling you home. 

“I saw you come up here, and you looked upset, so I just wanted to check on you.” Gojo tells you under the muted bass of the music downstairs. He looks so sincere, his glasses pushed down to the perkiness of his nose, looking at you with a gaze so intense, you feel your legs tremble. 

“I know we broke up a while ago, but I still care for your well being, you know that right?” He professes, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear you hadn’t caught. You try not to lean into his palm when his hand lingers, and he’s gone too fast for your liking. 

You stare up at him all the while, silent, taking him in. It’s been so long since you’ve got to look at him, really look at him, and take every part of him in. When you look at him, you don’t see the dependency or the whining or the frustration when you became too independent. 

No, you see the Satoru that loved you, that put you to bed on nights when you put your physical health after your studies. The Satoru that celebrated your accomplishments every opportunity that he had, who encouraged you to do more, try harder, be your best self. You see the Satoru that always offered companionship, even on days when things were too hard for him to handle himself. You see the company that always stayed beside you, the familiarity of him, his smell, his pretty blue eyes, his chest that welcomed your tears and your snot and every cry you’ve ever had. 

Without a word, you fall into his chest, arms still limp at your sides. You catch him off guard a little, feeling him stumble back once before he braces himself, bringing his arms to wrap around your whole body. He squeezes you tight to him, rubbing the back of your head as you hiccup little cries into his shirt, clutching the fabric of his sweatpants tight in your trembling hands. 

He stands there and lets you get all of your emotions out until you finally slow, still rubbing a comforting hand over your head and down your flank. When your hiccups have longer and longer intervals, is when he finally pulls you back by your shoulders. The position is all too familiar, makes you have flashbacks to that day where you changed the course of both of your lives. Gojo squeezes your shoulders when he sees your bottom lip tremble, and he can’t help but pout back amusedly at your watery eyes. 

“You wanna get out of here, and go back home?” He asks you, leaning down a little so that his face is so close to yours. You can see the different specks of blue in his irises, watch how his nose crinkles a little when you hiccup again and nod slowly, how his mouth curves into a smirk when you wipe at your face with the backs of your hands. 

“Okay, let’s go then.” He says softly, unable to resist leaning forward to peck at your forehead. Your eyes close at the contact, feeling yourself melt back into the person you were a year ago, melded into Gojo, and always finding yourself going back home with him. 

…

Everything feels all too familiar, at the moment. You ride in Gojo’s sleek black car late in the night, the windows rolled down and music that you both hate playing too loudly on the speakers. The only thing different, is that you’re still teary, and he’s quiet. 

“I’m really sorry, you know?” You mutter, still wiping away the tears as they flow freely, now you think because of the alcohol. You wish you would’ve been able to have this conversation a little more sober, but its too late now. You just babble on and on while Gojo listens, one hand on the wheel and the other resting in his lap. 

“I just felt so overwhelmed in our relationship, like I wasn’t myself anymore. And I can’t blame you, like, I have to take some accountability for not doing more to maintain my identity in order to appease you. But I just—I just lost who I was and I just needed a break, but I don’t want space from you anymore.” You rattle on, too afraid to look over at him, scared his jaw would be ticking and his mouth would be set in a firm line. The car is silent for a few seconds before Gojo speaks up,

“So that’s it?” His voice crackles in the car above the music that quiets for a few beats. “We were just on a year long break, and didn’t actually break up?” Your stomach sinks at his words, hands wringing together as you try to piece an explanation together quickly. 

“Well, um—”

“So glad I didn’t cheat then.” Gojo cuts you off, making your head whip over to him in surprise. He’s grinning now, big and wide, reaching a hand over to squeeze at your thigh as he tilts his head in your direction to wink at you. You feel yourself slowly deflate, nerves crumbling with every passing second, every sentence Gojo prattles on with about how much he missed you. 

When you finally gain your composure, you realize that you’ve stopped at a red light, and Gojo is looking at you again. You blink bleary eyes at him—so sweet, so innocent—you watch him practically melt in the drivers seat. His skin is tinged with the red of the traffic lights, makes his eyes look even paler, his mouth even pinker. You sigh softly into the air when his big hand snakes up to cup your cheek, finally allowing yourself to relax into his touch. 

“You’ve always been such a pretty crier.” Gojo whispers to you, and you want to kiss him so, so bad, but you don’t. You let him take control since you hurt him so bad with the breakup, let him control the moment, but you secretly wish that he kisses you until your lungs stop. Instead, he runs his thumb across your bottom lip before pulling away, and you belatedly realize that its because the light has turned green. 

Gojo's hand drops into your lap again though, rubbing gently at your thigh as you keep staring at him. He’s talking about how little the apartment has changed since you’ve been gone, about you moving back in, about having some movers ready before the weekend is up. And you’re listening, you are, but its so hard to fully tune into what he’s saying when he looks so pretty and his big hand keeps stroking at your sensitive thighs. While looking at him, you try and inch his hand closer between your legs, so many memories flooding back of you being in this same position before. 

Except, this time, Gojo does not appease you. No, instead he turns to you with a frown, eyes bouncing back and forth from you and the road, as he stills his hand when you try and tug at it. 

“What were you saying earlier? About needing a break before, about wanting to wait?” He asks you softly, cooing at your little pout that instantly takes over your face. 

“Just wait until we get home, baby. I’ve been without you for so long now, I wanna cherish the moment.” He says fondly, tugging at your bottom lip when you pout. You nod, but don’t say anything, dejected at your rejection from him, telling yourself you should’ve known that things wouldn’t have gone back to the exact same. Only, Gojo sees your little pout, and he’s missed you so damn much, that he can’t help but spoil you. Just a little. 

“Unzip your jeans for me, love.” Gojo calls out to you, nodding his chin in the direction of your legs. You try not to perk up too much, but you listen without a moments hesitation, quickly unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the zipper down in the now quiet car. 

You don’t take them off or shimmy them down your hips too far, just a little, just enough for Gojo to squeeze his hand between them and your panties. From there, he pets gently at your cunt, lithe fingers stroking between your lips, pushing as far as he can into your hole that pulsates around the fabric. He pulls and gently tugs at your pubes, grinning when you hiss, and taps his finger against your hole once more. He feels your increasing wetness starting to spread, and it makes him chuckle, moving deft fingers up to start petting at your clit. 

You sigh softly, dropping your legs open as much as you can with the restrictive material, holding onto Gojo’s arm like a life jacket. And he lets you, coos down to you about how sensitive he forgot you were, how swollen your little clit is already, how you’re seeping through your panties, how dirty you’ve always been for him. When you feel close to coming, from being untouched in so long, from missing his fingers so much, he suddenly stops. 

You whine, digging your nails into his arm as you blink at him confusedly. But Gojo is already pulling into the apartment complex, grinning all the while. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, tapping your clit once, twice, with the pad of his finger to watch your hips stutter. “I’ll get you what you want in no time.”

…

Falling into bed with Satoru is as familiar as breathing, as walking, as loving him. Feels as familiar as waking up beside him and being welcomed by your favorite coffee drink and being kissed despite your morning breath. Feels as familiar as your skin melting into his own, as sharing a set of lungs and kidneys, as your hearts beating the same pattern that is all too familiar with you both. 

When he sinks his cock into your aching heat, you feel like all is right in the world again. What were you thinking before, when leaving him? How could you do that to him, to the both of you? Why would you ever leave when Satoru always felt this good?

You moan into his mouth when he lays on top of you, flat on your back with one leg over his shoulder, as he traps your other leg between his thighs. His pubes brush against your clit when he leans into you, his fringe brushing away the sweat starting to gather on your forehead, huffing a laugh against your lips. 

“Did you miss this? Miss me? I haven’t heard you say it enough tonight.” Gojo teases you, rolling his hips into your sweet cunt with every word. Your eyebrows screw up at the pleasure, and he can’t help but blink bleary eyes open to admire how pretty you look under him. You nod quickly, nose bumping against his as you wrap your arms tight around his shoulders. 

“Missed you so much. ‘M so sorry for leaving,” you babble on, grinding your hips into his, feeling him throb deep inside of you at your words. He groans, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lips, dipping it inside when you so graciously welcome him in. 

“You miss me, or was it just my cock?” Satoru asks against you, laughing a little when you quickly shake your head, holding him tight to you. 

“Missed you, missed you so fuckin’ much, ‘Toru.” The sound of his nickname falling from your lips makes him groan into your cheek, pulling his hips back to fuck into you a little harder. He holds the back of your head until your foreheads press together, eyes staring at your fluttering ones from the pleasure, drinking in every piece of you that he can get. 

“You still love me, don’t you? Didn’t forget about how much, right?” Satoru asks, hips starting to slam into yours, pace quickening. Your moans are stuttered with every breath, and you’re sure you’d be sliding up the bed if he didn’t keep such a tight grip on you. You throw your head back with a little yelp when he suddenly presses a wet thumb to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. 

“Huh? Did you forget all your love for me?” Gojo sounds disappointed in you, and that’s the last thing you wanted. Your hands find his nape and his scalp, pulling as soft as you can as you blink a few times through the tears of pleasure. 

“No, never, I could never forget, ‘Toru. Love you so much, so, so much,” you chant your love for him, holding on for dear life to his skin when he starts fucking you with renewed passion. Your words make his cock throb from deep inside of you, make him wanna bring you to the edge just like how he used to. 

And he does, but only this time, he doesn’t let you jump from the edge, no. Instead, Gojo pulls out, shushes your cries with a kiss to your greedy mouth as he moves your leg from his shoulder. He positions you until your lower body is twisted to the side, legs tight together, pretty plump lips peeking from between. He slots his dick back inside of you, comfortable and familiar, sinking in deep and growling at your squeak at how thick he feels in this position. 

“Fuck, feels like you’re splitting me open, ‘Toru!” You whine, reaching out for him when he sits up on his knees. He leans into you, lets you cup his cheek, sucks your thumb into his mouth when it falls open. Gojo looks rabid now, his glasses slipping off of his face as his hips slam into you. Usually, he wouldn’t be so desperate, but you’ve deprived him of this sweet pussy far too long for him to be rational about any of this. 

“You like that? Yeah?” Satoru asks you, one hand holding your hip, the other reaching out to squeeze one of your tits in his hand. You push your chest out to him, nodding and hiccuping as you moan with every thrust inside of your aching cunt. 

“Yeah,” you whine back, eyes glossy as your hands fall back, one holding onto your pillow beneath you that smells just like his shampoo. The other grips the back of his hand that holds your tit, eyes screwing shut when he sneaks down to start thumbing at your clit again. 

“You’re so desperate for me, isn’t that right?” Satoru coos down at you, glasses falling from his face, bouncing off of your hip. He pants from above you, his usual carefully styled hair going awry and all over his head, licking his lips as he stares down at you. You nod quickly, holding on for dear life as you start feeling your orgasm starting to creep on you again. 

“Must’ve been miserable everyday without me, without my cock.” Satoru groans down, leaning back on his knee as he keeps fucking you to admire the sight. He throws his head back when you squeeze your thighs even tighter, cunt clamping down around him, gritting his teeth all the while. 

“Knew you’d come crawling back to me, it was only a matter of time. You looked so pretty doing it,” He growls, watching your telltale signs that your orgasm is near. But, Gojo is a petty bastard, and still insists that he makes you wait. For all its worth, its the least you could do for breaking his heart over needing stupid space. 

He waits until he’s sure you’re on the brink of your orgasm before pulling out once more. You groan and whine this time, but he only manhandles your body until you’re on your stomach, thighs pressed together once more. He cages your legs between his own, pulling at your cheeks until they spread for him, and he takes a second to admire the pretty sight before him. Gojo can’t help but lean down and press a quick kiss to your dripping hole, feeling you clench down quickly and squeak. 

He laughs at you and smacks a hand down on your ass before sitting up again, holding his base so that he can tease his cock at your hole. You whine for him to stop teasing you, to put it in already, make you cum like he has so many times before. 

And he does just that; pressing his leaky tip in inch by slow inch until you’re full of him. You let out a filthy moan until his base and balls are snuggled into your ass, whole body going limp below him. You let him use you as you please, head feeling fuzzy the entire time as he leans his body weight on top of you, fully crushing you. 

“Our love is so strong, isn’t it?” Gojo hums into your ear, committing to slow strokes this time, because he likes how you quiver underneath him when he grinds his tip against your sweet spot. “Feels like nothing could ever break it, like nothing could ever come between us.” 

He kisses your shoulders as he speak, intertwining his fingers into yours, holding your hands where they rest on the pillows beneath you. Its an intimate gesture, makes you swallow the cry that wants to rip out of your throat, burying your face into fluffy fabric that smells of him to moan loudly. 

“You wanna make it even stronger, don’t you?” Gojo whispers under his breath, feeling his cock brush your sweet spot over and over until it drives you crazy. All you can do is nod, squeezing his hand as he nibbles at your ear. 

“Let’s have a baby, together.” His words should alarm you, and so should the lack of a condom that you’re just now realizing. So should how sinister his voice has become, and how his cock swells and kicks inside of you at just mentioning it. 

But, it doesn’t. You don’t think you’ve ever loved him more, supported an idea as much as you did in that vert moment. 

“How’s that sound? Really solidify our love for each other, right?” Satoru pushes and pushes and pushes until you’re teetering on the edge once more. You know, that if you answer correctly, he’ll let you finally jump over. So you do. 

“Put a baby in me, Satoru,” you demand of him, words muffled by your face in the pillows. Gojo groans loud at that, eyes squeezing shut as he thrusts into you so hard that it sends you up the bed, the friction on your clit finally making you reach your orgasm. You cry out loudly, head flying back as Gojo shushes you, mouthing at your throat all the while your legs kick up and your toes curl. 

“And after this, you can make your dreams of being a stay at home mom finally come true.” You drown his words out as you cum, shaking beneath him as you gush all over his cock, long awaited after being denied three times tonight. You think its worth it, even though the back of your mind convinces you that you’ve just made a deal with the devil himself. 

But its hard to be upset when Gojo cums inside of you, filling you up to the brim as he groans into your cheek. His hips keep bucking and stuttering inside of you, fucking his cum back in when you feel it start to slowly slip out. He doesn’t let even a drop slip from around his cock, keeps fucking you and fucking you until you cry about being sensitive. Only then, does he pull out, but he props your tired hips up. 

“Can’t let any of it go to waste, right?” You can hear the grin in his voice, but you’re too tired to tell him you started birth control a few months ago. He rubs your hips and your ass, fingering his cum back in every time your hips shake from exhaustion. Only when you collapse on the bed, knocked out cold, does he let up. 

Gojo sits back on his knees to admire you, the fingertip shaped bruises on your hips, your spent cunt, your drooling mouth, your shut eyes, and wonders. Wonders how you’ll feel years down the line when—and if—he finally tells you how he got you back. While he made you think it was because he allowed you space and time, you couldn’t be further from the truth.

After your breakup, Gojo was always there. Always lingered around the corner, always looked out for you because no one else in this world would. Even if that meant scaring off potential dates, and getting rid of the more persistent ones. Even if it meant having to watch from afar as you tried to move on from him. Even if it meant switching out your birth control for placebos that you were none the wiser of. 

He just loved you so fucking much, and his love for you was stronger than anything in the universe, and he would do—and did— anything to get it back. Even if you would never know of the sins he committed to have you again. 

reblogs and comments are so appreciated! thank you all for reading 🫶🏼

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #gojo treats! 🍬 #jjk sweets! 🍬 #tw: yandere #tw: gaslighting #tw: emotional manipulation

[crisiscutie]

Dissidia Sephiroth/Dissidia Darling HCs P.2

Part two/Follow up to these HCs for context. More lore heavy than NSFW.

Content Warning: NSFW. Daddy Kink. Breeding Kink. Confinement. Mind Control. Emotional/Physical Abuse. Gaslighting. Noncon/Dubcon.

༻❁༺ This world that you and Sephiroth arrived in... Why does it give you a feeling of déjà vu?

༻❁༺ You heard Sephiroth mutter something about the city's name being "Midgar" under his breath...

༻❁༺ This world seems to be a constant reminder of your beloved grand city, Baia. The city of dreams and lies, which you hold dear in your heart.

༻❁༺ Although your memories are fragmented, certain ones remain vivid, such as the time when, in middle school, you and your childhood friend vowed to visit the grand city and live together as adults.

༻❁༺ That childhood vow was broken six years later as you had to flee from your abusive stepfather and mother, and that backwater countryside.

༻❁༺ You felt bad about it, but you had to do it, right? While he may be upset about that specific circumstance, you probably shattered his faith in you from much worse things you've done, like supporting your wicked father and committing atrocities on behalf of him and the Masquerade.

༻❁༺ It's only when all your memories have been restored that you'll know how your childhood friend truly felt, but the fact that Sephiroth isn't doing much to assist is making you angry. You need to know your memories!

༻❁༺ What is he exactly planning? You've been gaining your memories back, little by little. It can't be a coincidence. No more will you be continued to be used by wicked men.

༻❁༺ Before you harvested the energy from this world, you confronted Sephiroth and insisted he explain his plan to you. Just what is exactly is this Jenova he speaks of!?

༻❁༺ You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he chuckled at you, refusing to share what he planned and what he knew about your missing memories. You're just a puppet for him, after all. This only fueled your anger further. How dare he?

༻❁༺ You summoned powerful beasts to attack him, thanks to the energy you've harvested from other words. You knew about his strength, which is why you've stolen some of that energy you were supposed to harvest for him.

༻❁༺ You made your escape, leaving him to deal with the ferocious summons. You were afraid they would kill him, but you had to figure out a way to leave him for good somehow.

༻❁༺ Now that you are free, you explore other areas of this "Midgar". If this place is giving you déjà vu, perhaps you may find scattered memories here?

༻❁༺ But the possibility of encountering painful memories of your childhood friend and father in this strange realm made you anxious. You hoped he wouldn't be angry with you.

༻❁༺ You found an alleyway, and the smell of garbage hit you as soon as you stepped inside. The sight of the alleyway brought back a lost memory, one where you watched your true father walking down the street dressed in his finest suit, surrounded by the Masquerade's elite guards.

༻❁༺ That may've been the first time you ever seen him... Damn, him and Sephiroth for looking so similar to each other...

༻❁༺ Suddenly, a voice, deep and velvety, spoke right beside you and inside your mind simultaneously, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. "The reunion is inevitable."

༻❁༺ You saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it, you were being attacked. You tried to use your staff to block, but the force of the blow was too much, causing you to lose your grip on the staff and fall to the ground.

Where the fun begins...

༻❁༺ You put on a brave face, but inside? you quaked with fear when that piercing gaze fell on you. His evil smirk was enough to convey his anger, and the glint in his eyes confirmed it.

༻❁༺ He yanked your hair, causing a sharp jolt of pain that radiated from your scalp down to your toes as he effortlessly hoisted your limp body to be eye level with him.

༻❁༺ Your body trembled as he glared at you with cold, piercing eyes, his grip tightening on your hair.

༻❁༺ Despite his difficulty with your summons, he couldn't help but praise their power. But now you must pay the price for your misbehavior.

༻❁༺ His finger traced down your cheek and around your neck, commenting on the delicacy of your skin. But the angry glint in his eyes for a moment became sadistic and crazed. It scared you like hell.

༻❁༺ When he saw the necklace you wore, with its gemstones containing the stolen harvest energy, he ripped it apart using the same finger that had caressed your cheek moments before. You wailed, that necklace being a special gift...

༻❁༺ In a tone that was both cruel and mockingly affectionate, he gave you the assurance that he had a better gift in store for his precious doll...

༻❁༺ He adorned you with a choker decorated with beads that resembled his bracelet. He explained it granted him complete control over your body, and that he would keep you in his pocket realm, only bringing you out when absolutely necessary.

༻❁༺ You will need to undergo a period of correction before he can fully claim you as his.

༻❁༺ When he cuddled with you, he constantly quoted your father to tease you. You knew he was doing this to showcase the power he had over you.

༻❁༺ When he came "home", he'd gently kiss your lips while talking about time fighting the Warriors of Materia, speaking casually as if nothing happened between you two.

༻❁༺ When he was gone, you were left to wander his pocket realm, hearing echoes of his voices and another entity, often speaking of a reunion. The emptiness of the realm became suffocating, and you began to yearn for his company. Whatever this "reunion" was, it needed to happen soon...

༻❁༺The most humiliating times were when he had you sit on his lap when he was on his throne, your gushing, wet cunt forcefully grinding against his legs. You weren't doing this, he was controlling your body to do it.

༻❁༺ The lightest brush of his fingers against your skin sent you to spiraling into ecstasy. Damn that choker he put on you! You won't give in yet, though. Maybe you have to be with him forever, but you want still want to be yourself.

༻❁༺ He dominated you completely, tugging your hair as he fucked your ass, eventually filling your guts with his corrupted seed. After that, he would seal your tight hole up, leaving you to feel the fullness of his seed inside you, a constant reminder of his ownership.

༻❁༺ Outside of the occasional anal, you ride him as a part of a ritual he started. Each time, his corrupted seed would fill your womb. But yet, not impregnating you.

༻❁༺ He caressed your head and spoke to you in a gentle, fatherly manner, explaining how he could direct his seeds to encircle and stimulate your egg, and as a precaution, fertilize it should another soul dare try to impregnate you. But outside of that, Sephiroth told you he will only impregnate you when he's reached godhood.

༻❁༺ You shouldn't even think about wanting someone else to impregnate you because your loyalty lies with your daddy Sephiroth, who you belong to as his precious and devoted girl. That's why he always had you ride his cock, to drill that concept into your psyche - and into your womb.

༻❁༺ Sephiroth's corrupt seed would writhe inside you, stirring you to ecstasy every time his arrival neared .

༻❁༺ You grew more and more addicted to him. The final thoughts of rebellion slid out of your mind. His loving words, his cum, kisses, cuddles. You couldn't get enough of him!

༻❁༺ As your obedience grew, he took you out more. You couldn't help but call him "father" or "daddy" outright sometimes when you did his bidding. And he would only chuckle darkly in response.

༻❁༺ Sometimes, he cupped your cheeks and rambled about a "reunion"...

༻❁༺ The following night, while you slept, you had a lucid dream; you were scissoring your cunt and toying with your tits, as you called out for "daddy"... was it a coincidence?

More to come in Part 3 and onwards! With more kinks, more characters ;)

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #crisis cutie #yandere x you #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #yandere sephiroth #final fantasy x reader #Yandere x Darling #one winged masquerade au #c.c rambles #Yandere Sephiroth x Reader #Yandere Final Fantasy #doll darling #Yandere x Reader #tw: dubcon #tw: abuse #tw: gaslighting #tw: noncon #tw: emotional abuse #tw: daddy kink #tw: mind control #tw: yandere #yandere x y/n

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

i had a nightmare, so naturally i wrote about some related to it lmao

My Pleasure | BFF!Levi Fluff

✧ word count ➼ > 950 ✧ notes ➼ fluff, bff!levi ✧ cw: mentions of gaslighting, mentions of invalidation

The breeze was pretty significant with how high up you were. If you looked under you, you could see the night lights. You weren't on that tall of a building, but it was high up enough that you were hidden from prying eyes. Your legs dangled off the edge of the building as you stared off into the distance, doing what little you could to regulate your mood.

Although your head was swirling with chaos, you wore a blank expression on your face. Your eyes seemed empty, and you had been masking for so long that it seemed like second nature at this point.

You didn't even remember what you were upset about, but all you remembered was that you were with your group of friends and had gotten upset about something. When you brought it up, instead of having a productive conversation, your friends decided to invalidate every other thing you were saying. You felt attacked and pushed away, and ended up deciding that the best thing to do was to shut up and mask.

"Haven't seen you here in a bit."

You heard a familiar voice and looked up, seeing probably the only friend you had right now that you didn't resent.

"Could say the same to you."

Levi took a seat next to you.

"Friends say you've been acting different."

You were looking down towards the street below you, holding your hands together as you twiddled your thumbs as a way of fidgeting. It was ironic that your friends even said anything, given how quick they were to push you aside.

You were upset and you couldn't deny that, but you felt you didn't have the right to be upset. You had internalized their beliefs that you were 100% in the wrong, and convinced yourself that any negative emotion you were having should just be pushed away and that you didn't need to bother anyone else with it.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Levi said with a scoff. "Look at me."

After a few seconds of no response, he tutted in disapproval and shoved at your shoulder a bit.

"Look at me," he repeated.

You finally turned and lifted your gaze to meet his. You could see the deep level of concern in his eyes, and he was immediately able to see past your mask, and see the pain in yours.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

His soft tone made you tempted to break down and cry on the spot, but you couldn't. You still felt like you weren't allowed to.

"...I got upset about something," you said after a long pause. "I don't even remember what it was to be honest, but they kept on insisting that what I was saying didn't happen..."

You trailed off, pausing for a few seconds before continuing quietly.

"...or that I was overreacting, or that I was being dramatic. It seemed like every other word that came out of my mouth was just getting shut down."

You emotionally withdrew from the situation as a method of protecting yourself. Levi was able to tell that immediately. It was a habit of yours that he had picked up from day one, and he couldn't blame you, as harmful as it was.

"I'm questioning if maybe they're right," you continued. "Maybe I am just seeing things that aren't actually there, feeling things that I have no right to feel-"

"Cut that out," he said sternly, cutting you off.

You immediately stopped talking and looked at him in confusion.

"Are you not hearing yourself?"

He sounded annoyed, but the look of concern in his eyes remained.

"You're allowed to feel how you feel," he said with a frown, as if he was astonished that you were even doubting yourself. "It doesn't matter what the fuck other people say happened or not, how you feel is how you feel and there's no changing that—and they're fucking idiots for trying to tell you otherwise."

You looked away, pondering over what he was trying to say.

"And they're assholes for trying to tell you that you're not allowed to feel a certain way or invalidating what it was that got you upset."

Your cheeks began to heat up as he spoke. As always, every word that came out of Levi's mouth hit you like a truck. The validation from him alone brought up something within you, although you couldn't tell exactly what it was. It made your heart pound and your entire body heat up. It was just the effect he had on you.

"...really wish more people were like you," you whispered.

"Yeah?" he said, glancing down at you.

"Yeah," you affirmed, looking down at the ground again. "Sorry for being a pain in the ass."

He shoved you again.

"Didn't I say to cut that out? Quit pitying yourself."

The pout returned on your face as you slightly stuck your bottom lip out.

"You're valid and allowed to have emotions or get upset over things. I don't give a shit what the rest of your friends say. They can fuck off for all I care."

You quickly found yourself leaning against him with your head resting on his shoulder. This wasn't a new occurrence and it provided you an oddly comforting feeling.

"Thanks for always being there," you mumbled as you shut your eyes.

It was always Levi that was there, no matter how shitty your situation was. If you were a little less distracted, you might have been more willing to explore whatever it was that was going on between the two of you, but neither of you were emotionally aware enough at the moment to do anything about it.

"...my pleasure."

#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @deepzombieyouth @evas-leslas join my taglist!

#tw: gaslighting #tw: invalidation #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi ackermann #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

[revelinginthedarkrooms]

Midnight Snack

Main List

Fandom: Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack

Pairing: Sunny Day Jack/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dubious consent, somnophilia, gaslighting, oral sex (fem receiving), phasmophilia

Notes:

I was gonna make a thirstpost but decided ah what the hell, might as well write out the scene myself.

(And yes, I literally cannot stop myself from mentioning Joseph in every single thirst fic I make of this fandom.)

You were having a wonderful dream.

It was one of those nights, it seemed - instead of the random, vaguely story-driven dreams you typically had, this one trapped you in a fog of desire. Your mind was hazy and warm and aroused, and your faceless lover seemed to tower over you and consume you with every snap of his hips.

Your whimpering moans echoed through the bedroom, flickers of light sprawled across the messy sheets and sweaty pillows from the candles on your dresser, kept for only special occasions.

You tangled your hands in his soft, dark hair, crying out a name at the height of your climax, toes curling, knees clenching tighter around his waist, your nails scratching rivets in his back.

As you lay back against your bedding, exhausted and spent, a new sensation tingled in your spent pussy. Your lover smirked down at you, pressing a chaste kiss against your temple before sinking down and...!!

You awoke with a choked cry on your tongue, eyes flying open wide as the sensations in your mind carried over to consciousness.

Your sleep-addled brain struggled to comprehend what was happening, but another scraping of teeth against your sensitive clit made your hips jerk, wrenching a gasp from your throat.

“J- Jack? Wha--?” You questioned upon seeing a familiar head of blue hair between your legs.

Belatedly you realized your bottoms were tossed on the floor along with your panties, and that your shirt was bunched at your collar.

Jack paused, and then he looked up with a smile that sent shocks through your core. His half-lidded eyes were heavy with desire and his voice was rough as he answered, “I’m sorry to wake you up like this, but... you seemed like you were having such a good dream and I couldn’t help myself.”

“But... I was...?”

“Remember what I told you?” He patiently explained as if speaking to a child. (Deep in the depths of your heart, it felt... wrong.) “I can’t do anything you don’t want. If you really didn’t want this... I wouldn’t be able to touch you.”

On some level it made sense, but something vaguely wrong chimed in your head, a doubtful whisper that told you it was too soon, that friends didn’t wake up friends with oral sex, that you really weren’t sure if you did want this. Did you want this?

Ian never would have done this before you started dating, your traitorous mind supplied, and at the thought of your ex you felt your heart clench. But Ian isn’t my boyfriend anymore, now is he?

“You taste so good, Sunshine,” Jack moaned as he went back to eating your cunt, his thumbs pressing soothing circles into your hips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck. “I could eat you out all day... and all night... only if you wanted me to.”

Heavens yes, you wanted him to. Maybe it was the mental images of the dream before clinging to your mind’s eye, or perhaps it was the burning heat growing in the pit of your gut, but Jack’s tongue felt utterly sinful against your pussy and you couldn’t bear it to stop.

Your fingers found purchase in the sheets and your head pressed against the pillow, another moan rolling off your tongue. “Oh... oh, oh shit, Jack...”

“How naughty,” he chuckled, licking a stripe up your lips just to hear your indecent keening. “You’re so naughty, (y/n). I’m starting to think this is more of a reward than it should be... what do you think?”

He pulled back, his thumbs coming to a stop, and you craned your neck to see what he was doing. He had pulled completely away from your sweltering cunt, watching you in amusement. He seemed absolutely massive in the dim light of the streetlamps outside your window, streams of white light peeking in from between the curtains and running along the sides of his broad shoulders, highlighting every muscle, dip, and curve.

A pitiful whimper escaped you as you squirmed your hips against the mattress. “Please, Jack - please, I’m sorry, please make me cum.”

“Do you deserve to cum?” He hummed indulgently, eyes flickering with something dark, something erotic - something that made your pussy clench down on nothing.

“Yes,” you rapidly nodded. “Yes, I do, I really do. Please, I’ve been so good for you, please make me cum!”

Jack remained motionless for several long, heart-pounding seconds. A car went by outside, and the headlights flooded into your bedroom through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating his face and making his eyes almost glow in the darkness.

The smile on his face turned darker. Predatory?

“Whatever you want, sunbeam,” he purred, slowly bringing his face back to your pussy.

You let out a gasping moan, choking on air as one of his thumbs came over to roll methodical circles around your clit, sending electric shocks up your hips and fueling the fire in your belly.

“O- oh, oh, yes, ah,” you mewled, tightening your legs’ iron grip on his head and neck. “Yes... yes...! Jack, fuck! Yes! I’m-- I’m--!”

Your hips lifted off the bed as your mouth opened in a silent scream, waves of euphoria crashing over your body like a rock in high tide. Jack’s thumb pressed against your pearl, the residual jolts of pleasure making you jerk and squirm through the haze of arousal that made your pussy clamp down on that tongue... that sinful tongue...

“Good job, (y/n),” his voice sounded so soft, so adoring, and it made your heart flutter in your chest despite the doubts that clung to you like shadows. “You did so well for me. You’re my perfect ray of sunlight... you’re the only one who makes me feel like this. You’re my perfect girl...~”

Exhaustion weighed down your body like a blanket, and you could hardly muster the strength to move even if you wanted. A brief note of panic went through your mind as you heard something peculiar, like the jingling of a belt buckle... but soon enough a warm haze spread across your mind and you felt your eyelids shut, even as something pressed against your sensitive folds.

“Rest now, (y/n),” Jack’s smooth tones lulled you into a light slumber, even as you felt something thick press into your core. “Let me show you how much I love you. Let me take care of you...”

#swwsdj #something’s wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack #sunny day jack x female reader #sunny day jack x reader #tw: gaslighting #tw: dubious consent #tw: somnophilia

[hush-writes-preg]

i have a huge kink for breeding/preg as well as breast expansion/lactation and all the changes that go along with it. As a masculine, stealth trans man I’m also terrified of any of that happening irl.

One of my biggest fantasies is someone convincing or coercing me into getting knocked up regardless. Whether through hypnosis, slipping fertility drugs into my food, or just using my own arousal/kinks against me to get me to give in, the thought of it never fails to get me horny as hell…

I totally understand why such a thing might be scary to contemplate in real life, but thankfully we can play with those kinds of ideas in fantasy, right? It's a lot of fun to contemplate those nonconsensual ideas and get off to them in a safe environment. I hope the following leaves you squirming in a good way. ❤️

TW: non-con breeding *****

Almost nobody knows that under that strong, masculine exterior of yours lies a secret.

But I do.

You've spent years cultivating your outward appearance and mannerisms to be read as undeniably male, and I respect that. I don't see you as anything but another of my guy friends and occasional fuck buddies. But that doesn't change the fact that I also know that you have one of the juiciest holes I've ever had the pleasure of plunging into. It makes me imagine things I never have before, makes me crave using your body and womb to its full potential, though you're so responsible that it's not likely to ever happen. Such thoughts leave me feeling guilty, but they also turn me on like nothing else.

So one day, I decide to do something about it.

My sister's boyfriend works at the local fertility clinic, so it's not too hard to get my hands on some special drugs. I start sneaking them into your food and drinks whenever I can, brushing off your complaints when you occasionally notice a bitter taste. I conveniently 'lose' your birth control pills, and keep distracting you from picking up a new prescription. But you don't want to get pregnant, always remaining the responsible one, always making sure I use a condom-- so I sabotage those too. All it takes are a few pinpricks to render them nearly useless, and you're too busy taking my cock to really notice.

And I make sure you get plenty of that.

The thought of knocking you up leaves me incredibly horny, and I take every opportunity I can to yank down your pants and plunge inside of you. Plenty of times we do that back in my apartment, but sometimes in the car, and even once in the locker room at the gym after a workout one day. You look so good with your legs spread, taking me deep inside, not knowing what I'm trying to do to you. Not realizing that your body is pumping out eggs at a rapid pace thanks to the drugs, and that your womb is greedily sucking in my seed to fertilize any that it can. No, you're too busy grunting and moaning and begging me for more, and I am not going to say no to that.

It doesn't take long before you start putting on a little weight. It's not much at first, mainly around your stomach and chest, so I pretend that I don't notice when you ask me. The morning sickness comes and goes, and I just tell you that you must have eaten something bad. You don't miss your periods since you haven't had one in years, but I know you have nothing to worry about there-- your reproductive system is in perfect working order. And there's no way in hell that you're buying yourself a pregnancy test. What if someone sees you doing it and suspects that it's for you?

So by the time you truly realize what's happened, it's too late to do anything about it. And I'm not about to tell you just how much of a hand I had in the whole thing. I'll just remain at your side, taking responsibility for the life I helped create.

Your strong, masculine body starts to soften as your chest swells, your hips widen, and your belly grows round, much faster than you ever could have expected. Just wait until you find out that there isn't just one baby squirming around in your ever-expanding womb.

#hush answers #ftm breeding #ftm pregnancy #transpreg #trans pregnancy #trans breeding #tw: gaslighting #tw: noncon #hush writes preg

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

would you lie for me?

Sano Manjiro is a little more than a gang president and more than a little unhinged and it takes you a while to see it.

tw: gaslighting, manipulation, there is not a single healthy relationship in here, vague smutty bit, relatively graphic depictions of violence, lots of blood, yandere behavior from mikey?, poorly timed make outs bc mikey is a fucking freak (affectionate), character death (if they’re named, they die) (abt 3.5k idk that triggers me /j)

Part of @sugusshi and @rxmera's blood point road collab so it doesn't stay sweet for long lol hope its cool im posting it now ssksk (Music for the vibes)

Sano Manjiro had beautiful eyes. Big, bright, honest, clear eyes. When he looked at you, you felt seen, you felt safe, you felt known and loved. He had eyes that could build you up with a glance. The kind of eyes that could speak on their own. His irises were soft with promises of the world, that everything would be okay, that you were enough. And you believed it.

Mikey’s voice was powerful. It was soft and caring like the brush of a hand to an aching cheek, it was bright like the sunniest day, yet authoritative when needed. With his voice he could beseech even the most stubborn agent into action. He could convince anyone to see his side and feel his emotions. Those who heard his honeyed voice, would without question follow him through the desert to the ends of the earth in hopes to find the peace he had.

Yes, he was perfect on the surface.

Mikey loved his friends, his followers. He could use his charisma to generate endless moral when things were tough. His reputation for helping solve personal turmoil precedes him. It was this trait that brought the two of you closer together in the beginning.

Mikey knew you had it in you to be the person he saw in you. The sweet, fun-loving, strong-willed woman was inside of you. You just needed some help chiseling away at long ignored problems and help identifying and excising toxic people in your life. But you trusted him because being with him was the highest high. Besides, he was never wrong and had yet to fail to draw the idyllic nature in any of those in his circle before. No matter the starting material he could shape anyone to their best self.

He believed in correction as much as he believed in kind words and encouragement. There were tried and true methods he used to correct behavior in his gang. Some public, like the venting sessions where everyone was free to share their complaints about a member’s behavior. These sessions were passionate events meant to strengthen the bond between all participants by allowing fully unfiltered opinions.

The first time you participated you’d never forget. It had never seemed so intense from the outside but being in the hotseat was a different story. One by one others shared your worst faults, picked at the scabs of lifelong insecurities, called out transgressions you made in moments of weakness. You wanted to fight back, to argue, to defend yourself. Angry and accusatory voices blurred into generic din that rattled you to your core. It was sensory overload. Your brain was fuzzy and when you opened your mouth to speak, or scream, you had yet to decide, a hand came down on your shoulder.

Manjiro lifted his other hand to pause the crowd. He leaned down and spoke softly in your ear, “Y/n, they love you. You need to hear this. We grow through the pain.”

Your voice died in your throat.

“Besides,” His voice went gravelly, “Can you really say they’re wrong?”

A strangled sound tumbled out of your mouth and tears flowed freely from your eyes. How could you have been so defensive. Without hearing it all, how could you ever grow past the resentment and bitterness that gripped you? By hearing and accepting your faults you could be free. You were everything they said about you and more.

Mikey ceremoniously knelt in front of you, took your face in his hands, and kissed away your tears. “I will build you back up. Stronger than before. You have my word.”

Mikey took a particular interest in you after that. Leapfrogging through the ranks made your heart skip a beat. He saw something special in you, he wanted to help you. He wanted you, and you dedicated yourself to proving him that he was right to have chosen you. You threw yourself into his causes, attended every event, offered to do anything Mikey asked. You wholly devoted yourself to the man with all the answers.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Mikey had sent you to take care of his bike’s service. It should have taken the whole afternoon. The shop was 45 minutes by train and he’s scheduled pickup during rush hour.

You should have been paying for the repairs right now, you should have been several hours out, but instead, you got a call mid commute cancelling the pickup (“found another issue, accept our apologies”). So, you switched train lines at the next stop and headed back early. The lights were out in the palatial house the upper echelon shared, when usually it’d be bustling at this hour. Huh. There must have been a Correction called. Before you could join, you’d need to drop off Mikey’s card, lest you fall back on your forgetful streak and risk earning his disappointment.

You quietly strode down the long hall to Mikey’s quarters, feeling a heaviness in your footsteps. On instinct, your body hesitated as you drew nearer.

Shuffling.

Maybe someone was on cleaning duty and had forgotten to do so at the regular time.

A…gasp? A ragged breath?

Was Mikey ill? Shouldn’t he be in the infirmary?

A thud. The crack of a slap. Incoherent babbles that you could swear felt like pleas.

Your pace quickened.

“Haahiki,” a voice begged, “Ahiki, uhlease nuh! Uease,, uease nuh, aht!”

“You know it hurts me to do this, Haruchiyo, but you need to learn,” Mikey’s unmistakable tone threatened, “when to stop talking back.”

Panicked noises left Sanzu as the shuffling increased. You were in the doorway when the wet staccato pops of tearing skin, the cracking pop of a jaw being dislocated, and the gargled scream hit your senses all at once. In horror, you looked on. Mikey’s right thumb was depressing Sanzu’s tongue, gripping his lower jaw with bruising strength. His left hand had already left the kneeling man’s mouth in favor of gripping his pink hair. Sanzu gurgled on blood, some of which spilled down his shirt, mouth open and tongue twitching in pain under his king’s thumb, unable to close his now lopsided jaw. Involuntary tears of pain diluted the thick red gushing from messily torn skin.

“Why did you make me hurt you?”

“M-Mikey what is happening," you spoke with caution, words metered, uncharacteristically calm in the face of such violence.

Mikey's attention snapped to you and as he let go of Haruchiyo, the kneeling man fell to his hands, congealing blood spilling heavily in half formed clots on the carpet from where it had been pooling in his mouth and throat. Mikey whispered your name and looked down at what he had done with a rehearsed look of renewed horror, "I didn't want to do this I never wanted to hurt anyone," Mikey's voice shook with raw emotion. "Y/n you know I-I'd never hurt anyone right?" He took half a step towards you, reaching out with shaky hands that you ducked from at first.

"Mikey what...why would you..."

"No!" Mikey snapped and roared the word. You jumped. "You won’t leave. You can’t leave me. You’re mine." Mikey’s voice was thick with grit and a ghost of panic but left no room for argument or question. His word was absolute. You opened your mouth to speak but he didn’t give you a chance, "You belong here, belong to our cause, to me…with me.” His words softened, seeing you hesitate in your recoil. He took advantage of you being frozen in place and grabbed your face, bloody thumbs aligned with your jaw and gently brushing your cheeks leaving messy streaks from the bulbous semisolid blood on the pads of his thumbs. "I need you. I need you to fix me. You’re the only one that can. You’ll do it won’t you? You’ll be my salvation.” It wasn’t a question.

A tacky, bloodied thumb swiped your lip reverently. Mikey peeled away his thumb and stared at the smeared print of his finger left behind on your now ajar lower lip. You buckle under oppressive eyes. Your head is full of cotton and your chest is bubbling with complicated emotions that rise and fall like goo in a lava lamp. You’re too aware of Haru retching. Too aware of the drying blood fusing Mikey’s fingers to your jaw. Of the sharp metallic odor turning your stomach. Of your breath, growing labored, your heartbeat in your ears, the sting of your nails digging deep crescents into your palms, the white-hot burn of tears threatening to fall, of…of something soft and warm and wet against the taut  crimson smear on your lip. The taste of copper on your tongue. Warm lips slotted around your own. Warmth radiating from a hand on your lower back. Hot breath against freed lips.

“I-“ your head was swimming, mind flickering on and off it seemed from the overwhelming stimulation.

“You’ll fix this with me. You’ll stay. I know you will.”

Your body answered before you mind could catch up. “A-anything for you Mikey. Anything you ask.” He rubbed soothing circles on your lower back. The warmth he radiated eased your mind. He was comfort itself. The last holding splint holding you together; the pin in your grenade. “Whatever you need, consider it done.” He smiled with his whole face. “Just please, help Haruchiyo.”

Mikey’s glossy eyes hardened almost imperceptibly. He nodded and you took a glance at the man, eyes red from strain and pain without relief, cried to dehydration, to dryness. You’d never forget the split skin of his mouth that cracked his face into a smile.

That face, that last look of pained eyes blown wide on a torn face. How sorely you wished it was the last time you saw it.

He’d left that night. For medical attention, Mikey announced to the group. There’d been an accident, you see, and Haru would be gone for a while to recover. You nodded along solemnly as the dutiful only witness.

It had been an accident. A misunderstanding. A slip of judgement. You saw that now. Mikey would never do something so vile, but Haru made him lose control. If something could shift the inner peace that Mikey enjoyed, then surely that behavior was in dire need of rectification but any means necessary. Besides the event had crushed Mikey as further proof that he’d never wanted to hurt his friend.

 Over the past two weeks, Mikey had hardly eaten, rarely showed face at events, spoke without his show stopping charisma, he’d paled, and his eyes were red and swollen much of the time. The guilt was killing him. You did you best to provide him with the love and care he needed to get through this tragedy.

You stayed with him nearly all hours of the day. Much of it was spent cooing to the man outwardly distraught over the accident. Reminding him he wasn’t his actions, that what was done was done, that a moment of weakness didn’t define him forever. He was still the Mikey everyone looked up to and loved. You fed him, warmed his bed, sang him to sleep every time nightmares woke him. When he was scared to face the others, scared of what he’d do to them, you offered your body to him as a sign of trust.

He treated you gingerly at first, as if terrified of breaking you. He dragged his fingertips along your exposed skin with feather light touches that made you shiver involuntarily. Caging your body under his, he breathed warnings into the crook of you neck between pressing kisses along your throat.

“Manjiro, I know you. You won’t hurt me. And besides,” you tugged his face out from where he hid to look at you. “I’m yours, aren’t I? Do with me what you want to. Whatever you need.” His red tinged eyes stared back while yours flitted over his face, smiling soothingly as you carded fingers through his hair to keep it out of his face as you pulled him down to your waiting lips.

Warm lips kissed down your body, careful to give the peak of each breast a moment’s attention. Strong hands snaked under your hips to hold your legs open as Mikey got comfortable between your thighs. He took in the view for a heartbeat and before you could open your mouth to vocalize complaints of shyness under his gaze, he began his sultry feast. You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted, you lost count of the times he’d brought you to climax on his fingers and tongue before he made his way back your face to make you taste yourself on his lips. Gasps and whimpers were stifled by your lover’s mouth as he pressed his length into you finally.

Mikey was soft and sweet, more sensual than you could have expected. The praises and encouragement poured from his lips felt so sincere, so genuine. The raw emotion of the moment struck you just right and tears bubbled in your eyes. Babbled confessions of love and devotion left you like prayers. Mikey kissed your tears away. The kiss you stole from him then was cut short as the peak of your pleasure washed over you with a breathy gasp of his name. He rode out your orgasm and reassuringly pressed his forehead to yours with promises that he was there, he had you, you were his. Shakily, you grabbed his cheeks and watched him come undone above you with your name on his tongue. You tucked his face in your neck, panting with him for a moment.

“Mikey, please stay. Please stay with me.”

“I will. Till the end.”

The thing about endings is that you rarely see them coming, and when you notice it, the pieces have already settled where they’ve fallen.

You were happy. You were happy in your life with Mikey. You had all you needed when you were in his arms, acting as his penance. Days were smooth, routine, and comfortable when you saw a new light slowly blink to life in his eyes since the accident a month ago. His eyes had a new depth, with no beginning or end. When you stared into them, you felt the gravity pull you in. You could blind yourself in the light of those eyes and you’d never be happier. He’d found himself through his pain and suffering.

Sure, a few people had lost sight of his vision and left, but that was of little consequence to Mikey. Differences in understanding weren’t failures after all. He’d done for them all he could to bring them to perfection. Besides, he had the rest of his followers to support him.

He was different than before. More flexible, somehow. The change filled your heart with appreciation and pride. He told you all the time how this was your doing. Your gift of understanding. Your support.

You healed him, he’d say.

Things were so comfortable you didn’t question it when he started to take walks at night. He knew how to stay safe, he assured you. He had arms if there were to be an emergency. Besides, he only walked along the heavily wooed property the gang controlled tightly. It was a hike no one knew better than Manjiro. He was cautious, he promised, there was no reason to worry for his safety. If it brought him this much serenity when he struggled to sleep, who were you to stop him?

The beginning of the end was signaled by the metallic scraping of metal along the wood of Mikey’s beside table, the soft hiss of air sucked through Mikey’s teeth at the cool sensation of metal on skin and a quiet snap of elastic. The soft click of your bedroom door and a hushed but clear voice stirred you from your half sleep as you listened to the man asking if it was really okay to make a private walk with Mikey, if you were okay, if he’d made Mikey disturb you. Manjiro hushed his companion, Kazutora, you realized.

You’d always been a light sleeper and now your interest had been piqued. Mikey never mentioned that his walks weren’t alone. Jealousy mixed with a general sense of unease swirled like muddy water leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that you swallowed. Casting the blankets aside, your feet found your slippers and you started after them.

Kazutora had a particularly difficult time with some of the changes. He’d expressed the most concern of the group for Mikey. He’d taken you aside subtly last week to ask if you’d noticed any changes in Mikey’s behavior. Only for the better, you assured him.

You tailed them all the way to the shrine and then further downstream. Where the crunch of feet on freshly fallen leaves and the babbling of the river obscured the conversation. You saw them speak. They seemed calm, tranquil, a stark contrast to the fear gnawing at your psyche as you suppress connections your mind makes unbidden. You’d heard nothing from Haru. The others never announced their departures. It was as if they’d…left…in the middle of the—

The sounds of struggle pulled you from your thoughts. Manjiro had incapacitated Kazutora, locked his dominant arm out of use and gripping the taller man’s tresses to keep him steady. They were faced away from you and the copper scent in the air made you gag and choke on memories of Haru’s blood on your tongue that you weren’t ready to taste again.

Mikey let Kazutora buckle to his knees and lowered him down gently. Red hands plunged the knife through the left side of the gurgling man’s back. As Manjiro looked on from above, admiring his handiwork, he drove the knife to the hilt with a swift stomp.

You throat was constricted with need for air but your body forgot how to breathe. Instead, you heaved a sob and watched Manjiro’s head snap in your direction.

“Mikey,” you inhaled his name through an uneven breath as he stood above you, face neutral, eyes a void. “Mikey you s-said you didn’t want t-to hurt people…”

“Angel,” He kneeled in front of you. His voice was distant and dreamlike, quiet under the ringing in your ears. ���You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Mikey is he…”

“Shh,” He cooed, and scooped your trembling body up against his, stepping mostly over the body of his friend, but the crack of a bone under Mikey’s foot made you jump and cling tighter to the perpetrator for fear of being closer to the lifeless body. He carried you for what felt like ten minutes, all the while cooing sweet nothings, promises, and praises in your ear for being such a strong girl.

The stench of death in summer caught you by surprise. Even when you realized where he was taking you, you never could have dreamed death would overpower your senses like it did. He sat you down in front of the sallow, decomposing body of Haru. His jaw unhinged on the right side as it was when you last saw him, but now that cheek had been picked away, back to his ear and you were met with the inside of his mouth and swollen partial tongue.

“You lied to me.”

“And you lied for me.” He was on his knees behind you, mouth nipping at your neck.

“W-why?” Your body was unbelievably tense but you were unsettled far past tears by now. “Why did you hurt them?”

“I don’t hurt people, y/n, I bring the little piggies that can’t learn our lessons in this life to their next.” He pulled your chin up and began to suck a hickey over your jugular. “You’ll help me repent, won’t you?”

You swallowed and shook your head jerkily, at first before committing to denying him. You tried to pull away but he was faster. The snap of elastic was lost on you as he grabbed a painful fist full of your hair and yanked you head back to press the warm metal of Mikey’s pistol to your throat. “Y/n, I love you. I tried to get you to understand. You need this. We grow through the pain.”

Your scream his name was cut short as the bullet stole your voice in favor of grotesque grumbling as your hands flew to stop the blood uselessly. Mikey stepped around to face you and hold your face still, “Oh baby, you’re crying for me?” He put his forehead to yours. Your lungs were heavy with blood. “Thank you, my angel. I need some sympathy after shooting my love, you know?” He caught your gasping lips in a final kiss before raising the gun to his own temple.

Ye maybe i'll forego most of the tags but like yall knew this existed so here it is finished? but also pls talk to me about this one pls im begging this time for ppl to share thoughts @adviswhore @hanmasslvt @softbajis @rae-ryuuguji-sano @sano-obsessed @girl-by-the-lake

Masterlist

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers mikey x reader #tw: manipulation #tw: violence #tw: gaslighting #tw: toxic relationships #um #sano manjiro #idk what taags mikey ppl use #whatever i'll fix it later i guess #bloodpointroadcollab #mikey x reader #yandere mikey x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #mikey sano #pls yandere folks find this bc #so few ppl like the darker shit sksksks #craving validation sksks

[tiredsatellite]

there are full text translations on this persons twt

I am waiting for the whole audio file with subs (already listened to some parts, it's heavy... ).

things I want to highlight:

Build protecting Bible:

and even Poi:

#build jakapan #kinnporsche #daemi #poi #be on cloud #I can't help you if you still believe any word that comes from that woman #I wish her the help she needs... #tw: abuse #tw: mental abuse #tw: gaslighting

[bleach-your-panties]

💔♡☠︎  M̸H̸A̸ 𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖞𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘☠︎♡💔

💔𝖇𝖞 @𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱-𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻-𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼

RELEASE DATE: October 1st, 2023

RELEASE SCHEDULE: Every Sunday, Friday, and Saturday in October, alongside Kinktober 2023. Multiple uploads on a single day will be HIGHLY possible, as well as extension into November.

Inspired by: haikyuu!! bad boyfriends: the series, by @martellprincess-writes

series theme: bad - wale ft. tiara thomas

others:    bad romance - lady gaga

             the hills - the weeknd 

        wicked games - the weeknd

 memories back then - t.i. ft.  b.o.b and kendrick lamar

—--

Is it bad, that, I never made love? 

No, I never did it, but I sure know how to fuck

—--

Author's Note: As someone who has been in two different abusive relationships, I feel like I can provide an in-depth perspective on different types of traits that I saw and experienced from the people that I was in these relationships with. This series is MEANT to be triggering, but also to be entertaining and most importantly, informational about what to be wary of while dating or pursuing a potential partner. In no way do I condone or support any of the actions taken by the characters, and in some instances, by Reader-chan. You will most likely get triggered while reading this, as will I while writing it. Still, I come to you as an advocate and as a survivor, to show that you CAN break free from the toxic cycle of abuse. You are beautiful and you are strong. I love you all and thank you for your continued support on this platform. 

Warnings: 21+ DARK CONTENT WARNING. MDNI. Female reader unless otherwise stated. This series will contain dark content, explicit sexual content, as well as toxic relationships written in-depth. There will be all types of abuse written explicitly in this series, as well as other extremely triggering subjects. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised. No one under 18 should be on my page anyway, but if you are under 18, exit this post NOW. If you message me complaints about something I warned you about beforehand, you will be blocked. Also, don't message me about misrepresenting your favs. This is not meant to show them in a positive light. Thank you.

*Completed/uploaded fics will be highlighted in purple.

—--------

I can't promise that I'll be good to you

Because I had some issues

I won't commit

No, not having it

But at least I can admit

That I'll be bad, no, to you (to you)

Yeah, I'll be good in bed, but I'll be bad to you

—--------

💟🔏Masterlist'̸Schedule☣️💟:

💔10.01: Y̶o̶ S̶h̶i̶n̶d̶o̶u̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠ ⒫⒜⒯⒣⒪⒧⒪⒢⒤⒞⒜⒧ ⒧⒤⒜⒭

🖤10.06: T̶o̶u̶y̶a̶ T̶o̶d̶o̶r̶o̶k̶i̶ _-̶⒯⒣⒠⒡⒤⒩⒜⒩⒞⒤⒜⒧⒜⒝⒰⒮⒠⒭

💔10.07: T̶e̶n̶y̶a̶ I̶i̶d̶a̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒞⒪⒩⒯⒭⒪⒧⒧⒤⒩⒢⒪⒩⒠

🖤10.08: E̶i̶i̶j̶i̶r̶o̶u̶ K̶i̶r̶i̶s̶h̶i̶m̶a̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒯⒲⒪-⒡⒜⒞⒠⒟⒪⒩⒠

💔10.13⭐️: S̶e̶i̶j̶i̶ S̶h̶i̶s̶h̶i̶k̶u̶r̶a̶ -̶⒯⒣⒠⒢⒜⒮⒧⒤⒢⒣⒯⒠⒭,

K̶a̶t̶s̶u̶k̶i̶ B̶a̶k̶u̶g̶o̶u̶ -̶

⒯⒣⒠⒞⒪⒨⒫⒠⒯⒤⒯⒪⒭

🖤10.14: S̶en̶ K̶a̶i̶b̶a̶r̶a̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒨⒜⒩⒤⒫⒰⒧⒜⒯⒪⒭

💔10.15: I̶n̶a̶s̶a̶ Y̶o̶a̶r̶a̶s̶h̶i̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒨⒤⒮⒪⒢⒴⒩⒤⒮⒯⒤⒞⒪⒩⒠

🖤10.20: T̶e̶t̶s̶u̶t̶e̶t̶s̶u̶ T̶e̶t̶s̶u̶t̶e̶t̶s̶u̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒣⒴⒫⒠⒭⒮⒠⒳⒰⒜⒧⒪⒩⒠

💔10.21: S̶h̶i̶h̶a̶i̶ K̶u̶r̶o̶i̶r̶o̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒲⒠⒜⒦-⒨⒤⒩⒟⒠⒟⒪⒩⒠

🖤10.22: S̶h̶o̶t̶o̶ T̶o̶d̶o̶r̶o̶k̶i̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒰⒩⒨⒪⒯⒤⒱⒜⒯⒠⒟⒪⒩⒠

💔10.27: H̶i̶r̶y̶u̶u̶ R̶i̶n̶ -̶⒯⒣⒠⒝⒠⒧⒤⒯⒯⒧⒠⒭

🖤10.28: F̶u̶m̶i̶k̶a̶g̶e̶ T̶o̶k̶o̶y̶a̶m̶i̶ -̶⒯⒣⒠⒤⒩⒮⒠⒞⒰⒭⒠⒪⒩⒠

💔10.29: H̶i̶t̶o̶s̶h̶i̶ S̶h̶i̶n̶s̶o̶u̶ -̶⒯⒣⒠⒰⒩⒟⒠⒭⒞⒪⒱⒠⒭⒧⒪⒱⒠⒭

🖤10.31⭐️: Y̶o̶s̶e̶t̶s̶u̶ A̶w̶a̶s̶e̶ -⒯⒣⒠⒧⒠⒠⒞⒣, I̶t̶e̶j̶i̶r̶o̶ T̶o̶t̶e̶k̶i̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒰⒩⒮⒰⒫⒫⒪⒭⒯⒤⒱⒠⒪⒩⒠

💔11.05: H̶a̶n̶t̶a̶ S̶e̶r̶o̶ -̶⒯⒣⒠⒩⒪⒩⒞⒪⒨⒤⒯⒯⒜⒧⒪⒩⒠

🖤11.10: M̶e̶z̶o̶u̶ S̶h̶o̶j̶i̶-̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒞⒧⒜⒮⒮⒤⒞⒜⒝⒰⒮⒠⒭

💔11.11: M̶a̶s̶h̶i̶r̶a̶o̶ O̶j̶i̶r̶o̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒭⒜⒢⒠⒭

🖤11.12: T̶a̶m̶a̶k̶i̶ A̶m̶a̶j̶i̶k̶i̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒯⒜⒦⒠⒩⒪⒩⒠

💔11.17: M̶i̶r̶i̶o̶ T̶o̶g̶a̶t̶a̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒩⒜⒭⒞⒤⒮⒮⒤⒮⒯

🖤11.18: K̶o̶s̶e̶i̶ T̶s̶u̶b̶u̶r̶a̶b̶a̶ -̶ ⒯⒣⒠⒠⒡⒡⒠⒨⒤⒩⒜⒯⒠⒪⒩⒠

#bnha #mha #mhascenarios #mha x reader #mha imagines #tw: abuse #tw: emotional abuse #tw: gaslighting #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: sui ideation #tw: mental abuse #tw: violence #tw: verbal abuse #mha x female reader #mha dark content #tw: dark content #tw: physical abuse #tw: manipulation #💔🖤 mha bad boyfriends #tw: #tw: abortion #mha x female reader dark content #triggering subjects #read at your own risk #💗💗🍡°series #byp🌹

[unhappytimeleaper]

I see the request is still open and I apologize for sending this early but I can't help, ur writing is rlly nice. Can I request yan adonis alphabet with K, H, A and S? if you r not busy and take care. 

requested by 🍖

Word Count: 3,050+

I assume the meat emote is like,, what anon wanted to be noted as?

so, I tried. Honestly, Adonis is a character I don’t know quite as much about. Undead aren’t really my style and I find myself generally interested in characters outside of this group more, and it got to a point that I ended up having to rewrite this a few times to get it to make sense with what I wanted to convey. 

This note isn’t like,, super important but my asks are still open. I am doing my best to try to get things out faster and when I start my new job I do want to find a schedule that works so I can still post when I begin working full time. Please be proud I wrote this in like 2 days once I really focused on it even though the sad hours were really bad at times. 

Otogari Adonis; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings; yandere content, mental breakdown, gaslighting [mostly to yourself/Adonis to himself], clingy Adonis is clingy. 

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week. 

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One of the problems is that Adonis isn't too far off from a regular relationship; however, everything is amplified so much that it becomes a problem to handle. Or at least far beyond anything that is healthy, push a level of co-dependency even most clingy couples would be worried about. He's not restrictive like some others; he's not one to try to ban you from most things [unless he becomes highly over-worried for your safety] or to remove people from your personal life. Generally, that comes to friends outside of the industry and family; Adonis doesn't necessarily go out of his way to keep you from other idols, but you can tell there is a shift to his emotions when around others on par with him in the field. Perhaps it's a fear that he isn't as remarkable when around them or thinks they have some sort of skill he lacks. It is one that he knows is irrational; you're dating him, not them, but he can't help but have some adverse reaction to watching you talk to them. 

Instead, Adonis comes off as extremely lovesick and overbearing in his affection. Much like the honeymoon stage of a relationship, but instead, this is one-sided and far more clingy. And to a level, he can recognize that it is unhealthy, that it's only him giving the level of love. It doesn't matter in the end. Part of him is able to dilute himself so much into thinking that you love him enough to justify his actions; it's just not your style to project in the same way— and how he shows his love is just as normal, just not common for people around here. It takes him a while to entirely lose himself in these delusions, but in the meantime, it stays just as intense. He just often would be more willing to apologize when you get upset since he likely doesn't want you to find a reason to leave him; however, he never seems to change his actions. 

PDA is an everyday occurrence. It feels as if you can't go out at all without him touching you somewhere, holding hands, arms interlocked, wrapped around your waist. If you can't be physically touching, Adonis is like a large blanket, hovering so close behind you it feels like he's about to drape himself over your frame. You can ask him to take a step back, and he will go with a brief "sorry" before inching back closer. More explicit things like kisses might be more chaste against your forehead or hands than lips, while he is much more PDA friendly than some of the others he's been in Japan long enough to adopt some standards to the culture like keeping those forms of intimacy to just you two. Plus, Adonis sees something like a kiss to the forehead as more intimate as a public display with how soft how close it really shows you off to teach others without needing some overt dominance. Gifts are another big thing, either handed to you or left somewhere you easily can access, like a work desk. Of course, some are bought gifts, but this can include letters he's written for the day, snacks, flowers, pre-released undead merch [specifically his], etc. Anything he can get his hands on seems to find its way to you with some sort of sappy attachment. Realistically he knows you can't hold onto everything he gives [and knows food/flowers can't last], but it seems if he doesn't see enough of his gifts, there will be a sudden influx of what you begin to receive to fill the perceived void. 

The last sort of big way Adonis would show this is by protecting you. For him, it doesn't matter how strong you actually are, physically or mentally. Things like size and capabilities aren't factors he tends to pick up on; he just believes that no matter what it is, it is his job to protect you. Whether or not it's because he subconsciously thinks of you as 'weaker' and it's his duty to protect others, he views it as that way, or that he sees it as his job in the relationship to do it is ambiguous. Still, regardless there seems to be a disconnect. If something at work is stressing you out, he'll do everything to remove it or lessen it, some paranoid fear about a person hurting you, he has the ability to keep you away from them. There often isn't an 'I just need to vent about this' type mindset for him because he thinks it's his job to just solve it; make your life easier. Protect you from anything negative even though it gets to a point it's him making the most negative impact. It is if anything deeply frustrating but hard to communicate and get him to see the faults in his actions, causing a cycle of just bickering into the void, having whatever is bothering you with his actions stop for a few days, only to have it return back to normal. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

This one I don't have much to say because I covered it above with how intense it gets and how it shows itself. The answer is pretty simple, but the main word to describe Adonis is clingy. Not in a literal sense necessarily, but one where even if he isn't around, it's like he's breathing down your neck. What is the media's depiction of a 'perfect boyfriend' and what many outsiders might deem the relationship as being really is just overbearingly clingy. Too many messages to count, and calls that were once sweet now feel more like an interruption. The snacks and meals are nice, you hate to complain about the food, but it can be sort of suffocating too. UNDEAD items you honestly can't escape from as there feels like a need to play the role of a supportive partner with as much merch he gives you… even worse if they aren't your favorite group, but it's not like you'd ever tell him that. You know that he wouldn't get angry, but he might sulk a little more and work double to make it, so they are, which really just sounds more draining for both of you. Easier to keep quiet and be happy over the new additions to your… UNDEAD shrine.

In the end, even when he's present, it's again nothing that far off from a normal relationship. You can freely go outside with or without him [although he does like to know where you are at all times just in case], but this never hinders dates. I mean, he still has to wear some form of disguise if it's too public more so that you don't get mobbed, but he is also a brick wall— hard to not notice him resulting in you often opting to stay in. You'll watch shows, cook, etc. As long as you're close enough and he knows what you're doing [mainly out of pure curiosity rather than monitoring], time together is all he asks for, so you can do whatever hobby you wish so long as he can hover around you. Cuddling is key, and much like if you are in public, there is likely some way he's touching you, even if it's just legs spread across his lap as you fiddle around with something online while making idle conversation with him. 

As mentioned, none of these things are bad; so much of it just feels like a regular relationship. It's hard to put into words to explain to others why things might feel off. Not bad, you're not scared by him doing something, but there is just something an inch below the surface that feels misplaced. Being with Adonis is just that everything is fractured slightly. You care for him. Being with Adonis is one of the few yandere who starts off as a genuine relationship between both parties being involved, but his love and suffocating presence are always lurking in the back of your mind. 

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

The first fight and not for the reasons you might think. Being with Adonis, while he has his own issues of overbearing clinginess and unbreakable ideals, is not a bad partner to have. It's hard to see anything as 'bad,' and eventually, it gets to the point that you likely see yourself as the wrong one in the equation regardless of healthy boundaries. Essentially self, gaslighting yourself into thinking, 'why am I not like how he is?' or 'what is wrong with me for not being as happy as he is?' type of deal. It can get to a point where you force yourself to try to like him and dilute yourself into thinking this is how it's supposed to be or become essentially miserable that you can't have this same sense of adoration for him. Regardless, this type of feeling can't last and would likely lead to some form of burnout in the relationship. 

What makes it hell is the emotional toll all of this will take. The feelings of what's wrong with me, why am I not happy when others say I should be. Why is all of this so easy for Adonis when it is so hard for you? At some point, you forget this is an unhealthy relationship— it's not like he ever harms you. It's not like he doesn't try to invalidate your emotions or even try to give you space. He doesn't isolate you from friends or family, and even with other idols; sure, he's more grumpy than normal, but it's not like he does anything wrong to them. All of these feelings bubble and bubble and bubble, and more and more, the sadness and pain of just not getting it digs deeper into your heart. 

The first fight isn't even a fight. Honestly, you can't seem to remember it, but Adonis does seem to wince every time it's brought up. For you, it's almost a haze of crying and screaming and eventual numbness. You don't remember what you said or what he said. You can remember laying on the floor, curled up as best as you could, sobbing with Adonis hovering over you like a second shadow trying to calm you down. Part of you believes at that moment, he must have been a guardian angel, comforting you in one of your darkest hours. However, part of you believes he is a devil in disguise. One who wants to be an angel but cannot fulfill the role due to the nature of his circumstance truly matching within his idol persona. 

Things after this likely can never return to how it was. Adonis is still the same as he was before, and you… well, things seem duller no matter how much you try to let them go back to normal. You wonder if you will ever be able to return to how you once felt. To others, Adonis can only ever explain it as stress from everything seeming to have finally gotten to you; it's hard for him to accept the main factor was himself. But it's okay. Or it will be okay. He just has to work harder, and he'll always be there to make it that way. He promises-- it is his duty to protect those weaker after all. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

While most yanderes have one central point or influence that left them with these tendencies, Adonis has multiple that caused him to develop like this over an extended period of time. The thing is, most of these things by themselves aren't harmful, but it's the people and amalgamations of it all around him that eventually push him further and further into the extreme, eventually causing him to fall fully into his own delusions of what is 'normal.' 

The main one is likely the influence of media. Music, tv shows, plays— all of these are, let's say… not always the best way to gain an understanding of what romance is supposed to be like. The intensely devoted, no problems ever are sadly fiction. Or that things can just be magically lost forever when it takes both a lot of effort to make it do so, and most will not have their first love be their only love. It will always be a fantasy to have a love like this, but most people often struggle to learn this throughout the course of relationships. Much like how you might feel, 'why isn't my love the same as Adonis' mentioned in the last section, he felt the same way. Why isn't my love as strong as theirs in the show. Why isn't it as easy as the way this play Souma and him go to express it as. Their latest song was all about full devotion to someone. Is that how it's meant to be? In the end, all of this forces its way into shaping how he views love. Honestly, there rarely are depictions of what is a good progression of relationships and what is closer to the reality around love both in traditional stories and modern. It's easy to get lost in it all.

Even if it didn't feel right at first, there eventually comes a time he is able to quickly break down those feelings of it being wrong into being right. Self-brainwashing to conform to the media standards of love. And really, even if it is public that it's you who he's referring to, the industry would eat that shit up. It fits so well into the group's branding, and Adonis's call pulls off that strong, perfect love appeal so well. No one calls it out or tries to change it; half of them might think it's just some persona he's putting on for fans to swoon over. That validation just proves to Adonis though that he was right. Right? It's again just an unhealthy cycle of how media really doesn't promote what is realistic with love. 

The second would be wishful thinking. Adonis comes off as the type who would idealize love even without the impact that media has. That love, true love, can overcome all, and the first love he has is the real deal. There is something so wonderful to imagine that he can say it worked out. That his first was his only, and his passionate feelings from the start are burning just as strongly as they did then. Likely growing up, this was precisely that. A wish or fantasy, but when experiencing the progression of a relationship, it becomes less and less of just a wish and more of a goal. He wouldn't fail at this, and he could make it work and change this thinking into action. The fault of this is much like with media; a lot of this is all it can be. A wish or fantasy. The majority of people don't or can't make the wish of finding true love to have it last, and that's okay even more with something so complex as dating a celebrity/idol where there are so many external impacts that could cause distress. But all of the logic that he might have about it not working out because of so many factors is tossed aside for a hopeless romantic fantasy. Although, this is something that Adonis might struggle to admit to wanting even to you. 

The last leading factor is probably the fear of loneliness and not wanting to be alone. It's not really a secret that Adonis has difficulty connecting with others due to a language barrier and his personality. Even more than that, Japan can be a reasonably lonely country; it's hard to put making friends into action and create deep bonds that are often made worse when you are a foreigner. And while he has his fans, that opens up a whole other barrier and sense of loneliness because it is hard to connect on a deeper level with them. None of this is to say he doesn't have friends, especially within ES, Adonis is one to know he does have others to support and connect with, but there is a key difference between when that kind of bonds reach limitations with friendships versus a romantic one. It's easy to attach to someone and perceive the levels of bonding differently when dating, and that's why Adonis knows he cares deeply for his friends; it's not the same level of love he has for you. And it's scary to think about losing that, to be alone and not know where to direct those feelings anymore. Or that the comfort you can provide in a romantic aspect would be lost, and that sense of isolation from others will manifest. This is one where it's perhaps not a sentiment he publicly shares much, but in vague conversations with others at ES, they might express similar feelings, which in turn convinces Adonis to do everything he can to ensure a fallout doesn't happen. It results in pushing him more into a delusional mindset that rather than risking a fight or a 'rough patch,' he can keep a honeymoon period going, and in turn, there would never be a reason to leave. 

These types of issues are, I think, ones that would only really be onset by a committed relationship. While most yanderes might have sentiments that track to their childhood to explain their actions or some form of a traumatic event that resulted in a change to their perception of love, there wasn't really a way to predict that Adonis would fall into something like this. All of the factors might have been present from a young age, media influence didn't just magically appear, or this sort of wishful fantasy didn't randomly spark interest after a first date by any means, but for the longest time, Adonis probably would assume he could handle romance in a mature, healthy way. Most people around him think he is put together, too, so there wouldn't be a reason to inherently worry about him pursuing love, unlike others at ES. It's why this near-dramatic shift to being this way isn't something you or any other could put a stop to early on.  

#enstars.leaps #yandere #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere ensemble stars #yandere enstars #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #Yandere Adonis #Yandere UNDEAD #enstars x reader #ensemble stars Adonis #adonis otogari #Yandere Adonis otogari #tw: yandere #tw: mental breakdown #tw: gaslighting

[sortofanobsession]

To Cry for the Moon Part 4 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)

Author’s Note: Here is part 4 for you. I do not have dissociative identity disorder (DID) This is a fictional depiction of DID & characters are based on the Marvel/Disney’s Moon Knight series. I own nothing. The story idea by @jupitersmoon167 (the original post I saw is here!) Also realized I should probably add content warnings, so I did and tagged them. If you think I missed a warning please send me an ask. I try to tw tag even the tiniest thing so no one has to suffer if I can help it.

Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. Italics are the reflected alter talking.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic, @urlocallsimp

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader (It’ll make sense eventually)

Content Warning: Mental Illness, Domestic Argument, Lying, tiny bit of gaslighting (because Marc can be a dick), Dissociating

Word Count: 800+

WIP Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Part 4: Truth for Truth

After they both had a couple drinks and food was finished. Y/N leaned forward some. "Now about that wife of yours," She starts.

"Layla, yeah, she…"

"Yes?" She prompts him.

"Don't you chicken out now, you promised," Steven said from the reflection of the knife on the table. 

"We're separated," Marc states. 

"Just separated? Like a long break, broken up, or stab you in the face if I ever see you again, separated?" 

"Oddly specific example there, got an ex I should know about?" Marc smirks.

"Not mine, don't change the topic," She tells him.

"It was amicable," Marc states, but his heart begs to differ. 

"That's a lie," Y/N states plainly. She finishes her drink. "I told you not to lie."

"It's a bit complicated but it's done. Why would I lie?" Marc challenged. 

"Right," Y/N opens her wallet and tosses enough bills to cover dinner and drinks on the table and gets up to leave.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?" Marc asks.

"Fix this, Marc," Steven insists as Marc gets up. 

"I said it would be fine if you didn't lie. You keep lying and I'm not doing that." She stepped out of the restaurant and onto the street. He was quick to follow.

"How do you-" he starts but stops when she spins around to face him.

"Fine, you want a bit of honesty? Okay. But only because Steven doesn't lie to me." She pulled him into an empty alley. "I can feel when you lie. I can feel people around me. I can feel everyone! Look," she points to the alley entrance. In a second a couple will walk by. One of them is trashed, and the other completely annoyed." An observably frustrated woman dragging a clearly drunk man passed the alley. The man tripped over his own feet. Only staying upright because of the woman. 

"So what you can read minds or something?" Marc asked.

"No, I cannot read thoughts. I'm not a psychic. And I'm not exactly an empath either. I can read hearts. Heartbeats. I could feel the man's irregular heartbeat and could hear his stumbling steps. I could hear her angry steps and raised heartbeats."

"So you're…" Marc wasn't sure how to finish that sentence.

"Not normal?" She finishes for him. "Is that bad?"

"I have other people in my head that can take over my body at any second," he takes a mirror out of his pocket. "I can actually talk to Steven through my reflection. Nothing is normal about us."

Y/N sighs. "And that's okay, Marc. You don't have to lie to me. Neither of you do. The one thing I do know is you aren't a bad person. I can feel it. For so long that was my job, to determine if someone is good or not, to pass judgement. But do you know how hard it is to do that? To know that a person can be inherently good, even if they have done bad. I have lived in areas where one action can easily condemn a good person in the whole community's eyes, and I couldn't do that anymore. I don't want to have to condemn people anymore. I just…" she takes a deep breath. "I know it's a defense mechanism. I don't know what hurt you, who hurt you, but I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me or my family. I trust you, but only if you trust me." She feels his body shift and feels the recognizable heart of Steven Grant before her.

"We do trust you," Steven says. 

"I hit a nerve didn't I?" She gives him a sad smile. 

"A bit, yeah, but he'll be fine," Steven says as he glances at the silent mirror and puts it back in his pocket. He looks up when he feels her hand touch his chest, over his heart.

"I pushed him too hard. You were trying to let me in on who you are and I'm sorry."

"He knows," Steven put his hand over hers. "He's not good at handling situations that can't be solved with sarcasm, spite, and punching."

"I can see why I'm only just meeting him now," she admitted. "But he might come in handy next week. Dane's birthday is coming up and the pub can get a bit rowdy. The hearts of drunk humans often turn to darker things." She shudders just thinking about being surrounded by humans that have lowered their inhibitions. 

He pulls her into a hug. "We'll be there."

"Good, they're your friends. They like you. Even Bas likes you. I'm sure they'll like Marc if and when you guys decide to tell them."

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know so. Sprite likes anything that makes life less boring. She'll find this fascinating."

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x eternals!reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector x reader #eternals x reader #Eternals!Reader #Female!Reader #Moon Knight Eternals Crossover #To Cry for the Moon Fic #steven grant x reader #steven grant x female!reader #steven grant x y/n #tw: mental illness #tw: dissociating #tw: arguing #tw: domestic argument #tw: lying #tw: gaslighting

[revelinginthedarkrooms]

College Bestie - Fem!Yan x GN!Reader

I’ve been playing a few too many VNs, I swear. Have a soft yandere. (This won’t be the last of the OC imagines - I have at least two others I want to work out. I don’t know how they’ll be perceived, considering this is a wide departure from my usual smut, but we’ll see how it goes!)

WARNING(S): Gaslighting, emotional manipulation, depressive thoughts, obsessive behavior, brief mention of drug use

Please read responsibly. Minors fuck off. Ageless/blank blogs DNI.

Imagine for a minute.

It’s your second year of college and you’ve just moved to a new district, with a better (more affordable) school and new people to meet. You’re kind of anxious and awkward, a bit nervous to make new connections post-transfer.

The very first person to greet you is a blonde girl around your age or younger, or so she seems when she meets you. She’s bubbly, extroverted, cheerful - and somehow she finesses her way into becoming your first friend.

You later learn her name is Alex, and that she’s a year below you. She’s stuck to your side like glue, chattering nearly a mile a minute, showing you all around campus. The teachers regard her with amusement, her peers regard you with a sense of envy and curiosity. You can’t understand why, but some of them shrink away from you whenever she draws near.

You soon learn more about her; she has a brother in your year and another above you, you learn her favorite color is pink (which does not surprise you, given her pink hair bow, pink earrings, pink shirt, pink socks, white and red and pink accessories...), you learn she loves puppies and kittens and rats and lizards, and her favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. You learn her favorite nickname for you is ‘sugar’, or ‘buttercup’, and when you ask she laughs and says she gives nicknames to all of her besties. She’s so open with you that it’s simultaneously overwhelming and kind of funny in a way - but given how much other students swarm around her when you’re separated, drawing her into their little groups and vying for attention, it’s not hard to see why.

The year goes on. Days turn into weeks. You start settling into your new school quite well - or as well as you can - and even make a few friends of your own. But Alex remains a stubborn fixture in your life, and it’s like she can’t bear to be away from you for long. For a while you chalk it up to her being desperate to be friends with the new student on campus. But as weeks turn into a month, then two, then three... certain things start to trouble you.

It seems like whenever you begin to make friends with those around you, you always end up growing distant. Boys you’re paired with in projects, girls who lend you pencils during exams, students who offer to share their granola bar with you when you forget your lunch at home and don’t have money for the cafeteria - it always seems that you end up alone, just as you were when you first arrived. Loneliness follows you like a raincloud, and despite your attempts to ignore it, your calls home to your loved ones begin to reflect it. It’s hard not to be depressed when you’re at a Saturday night party and everyone around you is engrossed in their own little worlds - and you’re the only one tethered to cold, hard reality. You always ended up alone.

Well, perhaps not alone - Alex is always there, always consoling you when your latest friend pulls away from you or stops coming to classes, cheering you up when your latest interest crushes your hopes or turns out to be a worse person than you thought they were. She’s there through every heartbreak and late-night sleepover. She’s sugar-sweet as she offers your favorite snack and a commiserating smile, sweet as honey when she reassures you that it’s not you, sugar, it’s them, and aren’t people just so awful sometimes? But not her, never her, she’s always got your back. She’s your number-one fan. And you begin to feel desperate to cling to one of your only sources of human happiness in this unfamiliar college town.

But sometimes you can’t help but feel frustrated with the way you yearn for her presence; whenever you happen to catch her on a walk with her other friends, you often find yourself hiding and watching them go past. Alex is all smiles and laughter and cheer, and there’s an ugly, jealous pit in your stomach that rips open its maw and roars at you, tearing down your self-confidence: Look at how happy she is with others. You’re holding onto her too tightly - she probably wants a break from you because you’re so damned depressing.

Self-loathing turns to depression, and depression turns into nights where you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, a strange numbness in your brain and a void in your chest. It’s hard to even get out of bed, despite Alex’s ringtone (something from Taylor Swift - she had picked it out herself and you hadn’t bothered to change it) blaring loudly from your bedside table. When you finally do pick up, she’s often worried sick, asking if you’re okay and if you need her to come over and spend the night with you. You always hate to impose, even when you can hear other people in the background of the call murmuring to each other. She never fails to show up anyway, a bag of your favorite snacks and a thermos of your favorite drink to whittle away the hours together. More than once you doze off, suddenly too drowsy to function, and wake up an undetermined amount of time later to her hand gently petting your hair and her soft voice humming one of her favorite songs. There’s a wistful smile on her face and a certain tenderness to her touch that makes you wonder, but you never dwell on it for long as sleep claims you again. The next morning it’s like those moments never happened, and she’s back to her bubbly self as she drags you out of your apartment for lunch.

It isn’t until winter break wraps up that her older brother finally approaches you, the only one in your grade to remain in your circle despite your best attempts. He’s cool as can be (and stinks faintly of weed - or is that dirty laundry and sweat? You can’t tell) as he murmurs, “So you’re Lexie’s little crush, huh? I should’ve guessed she’d pick someone as cute as you.”

Crush? Your cheeks flush as you protest. It’s a misunderstanding, it has to be; Alex is friendly with everyone, you’ve seen it with your own eyes.

But no, he insists - she likes you, and he’s genuinely surprised you’ve never picked up on it. It’s gotten to the point where everyone else knows, and for a moment, everything makes so much more sense. How everyone keeps their distance from you now unless they explicitly have to, how she constantly dotes on you more than her other friends, how much she remembers about you - from your favorite pair of socks to your deepest fears.

It all makes sense, and you aren’t sure if you should be worried.

Perhaps you should, as your mind reminds you, and all her brother can say is a cryptic “Don’t break her heart” before he leaves, and out of nowhere Alex is clinging to your hand and talking about some new anime that she’s gotten into.

Dread settles in as you think back on the year thus far, and finally she asks you, “What’s up, (Name)? You look a little pale... did someone say something to you?”

There’s an unsettling seriousness to her voice, a firmness to the way her jaw is set.

You have to ask.

She listens to your concerns with a contemplative expression, before it finally turns into something of amusement - or is that sardonic?

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, sugar,” she laughs it off, waving a hand despite the pink bloom to her cheeks. “That’s just Aster - he’s so nosy, y’know how older brothers are. Just can’t help himself but to embarrass me! We’re friends, right? Best friends.”

Then she pauses, and her icy-blue eyes dart to yours in an unnerving intensity. Shyly, she asks, “Unless... you feel otherwise? I don’t want to assume anything...”

You honestly don’t know how to respond. It’s true that you feel a connection, but much of that, you believe, comes from her being your best - and only - friend. The last thing you want is to drive her away just because you’re desperate for connection.

She seems to sense your thoughts, and all at once her face softens and she rests a hand atop your shoulder. “(Name), you know I would never leave you over something like that. I really, really do like you, y’know? You’re my best friend. Nothing you can do will ever change it.”

That warmth returns to your face, and her comforting squeeze to your shoulder lightens your heart as she steers you towards the cafeteria.

Alex was a really great friend.

“I keep telling you, sugar,” she giggles, nuzzling your hand to her cheek, “this is what besties are for, right? You have nothing to worry about. Gosh, I’m so glad I met you.”

#she muses #yandere x you #ocs #yandere x gn reader #tw: gaslighting #tw: emotional manipulation #dead dove do not eat #tw: yandere #tw: implied drug use #female yandere #minors dni #blank blogs dni #ageless blogs dni

[naruto-general-opinions]

#anti sasuke fandom #tw: racism #tw: gaslighting