the-yoru-whoru

[the-yoru-whoru]

I have an honest question and I don't want to sound rude or anything at all but what's so interesting about CNC. Like I see people hype it up but to me it just feels like romanticizing r4pe..I'm not really into CNC so I can't talk bad or downplay whatever they do but I'm just asking because I want to understand it better.

A question I, by no means, can answer perfectly. However, in the spirit of philosophy and amateur psychology, I will lay unto you, ye who have keen ears, my theories.

Now, I am in no way a psychiatrist. However, as I am a woman who does a great deal of fantasizing and further thinking of what I fantasize about, I thought I might assume the role of a sexologist as it is no protected title.

I’ve long wondered why we (women) fantasize about things that would appall us if manifested in reality. It makes little sense that an act so ruining in practice should make us feel fulfilled when the mere thought of it is humored.

In the vast complexities of psychology, no matter how much I drink of its depths, I can’t seem to get my fill enough to understand it. Trying to figure out female arousal is like pulling hair from a clogged gutter and trying to undo all the knots. It’s a web of contradictions.

However…

First theory – there are cultural reasons. If we accept the inbuilt instincts of old and the instincts we adopt through media while growing up – all in all, the great history of aggressive men dominating passive women – we are conditioned to accept that this is what romance looks like.

Second theory – there are the emotional reasons. The "Beauty and the Beast" motif – featuring classic co-dependency. Women submit to abuse because we have an inbuilt need to nurture others – so when we love men who require to abuse and own us in order to love us, we somehow forget to protect ourselves in favor of loving them, which in this case means allowing them to abuse and own us. It's warped.

Third theory – there are psychological reasons. In fantasies and writing or viewing, we get to reframe traumatic experiences in a positive light or rework traumatic experiences in a safe environment – a form of psychological self-defense, much like Stockholm Syndrome or a type of self-inflicted Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Fourth theory – research has also been conducted regarding physiological reasons. Here, we have another inbuilt self-defense mechanism – a seldom talked-about phenomenon – which shows that women tend to become physically aroused when they sense any possibility of sexual aggression in their environment – in order to lower their chance of injury if they are raped.

Through all this, I believe one can narrow fantasies of rough or non-consensual sex into something as paradoxical and polar as having a wish for control and a wish to relent oneself of it. And coming to this conclusion, I realized that such is the pursuit of many, even in endeavors not of the erotic kind.

Humans wish to have control just as much as humans disdain having control. This is why BDSM (bondage, domination, sadism, masochism) kinks and fetishes are found in some shape or form in nearly every romantic or sexual relationship in existence. You’ll have the dominant partner wishing to achieve control over a submissive partner wishing to relinquish control through such means of domination, humiliation, pain, and pleasure.

But it’s more complex than that, isn’t it? 

Yes. Because, contradictory – a submissive partner may wish for control, and a dominant partner may wish to lose it. Human beings are an unyielding paradox where we flex across contrasting aims with no means to an end.

Yes, we wish for control, yet disdain having it. Perhaps we find the answer to this paradox in maintaining control by losing it?

Moreover… how does this relate to nonconsensual sex fantasies?

Here, we get a fifth theory containing the ego – a spin-off of a kind from the third theory. Here we find the wish for control, where, in the lustful fantasy realm, non-consensual sex bolsters a woman's feelings of seductiveness and desirability in the way it has the power to make a man lose his decency and self-control, driving him to commit crimes of passion despite ill consequences of losing his pride and honor as a man – also, ultimately, risking getting sent to prison. 

Put simply, some women enjoy the idea of being irresistible enough to drive even a good man crazy. The thought of being attractive enough to make a man love-sick and the power and control that follows it is, in this case, a turn-on.

A sixth theory – another spin-off from the third theory – is that fantasies of rape allow women to reduce the distress associated with sex, as they are not, in this scenario, responsible for what occurs. Moreover, the logic here states that when one is forced into something, they’ll have a lesser need to feel guilt or shame about acting out their own sexual desires.

Put simply, some women wish to maintain their innocence despite having carnal desires only satiated by means of sinful acts. 

This begs another question.

Is this a lingering feeling of guilt and shame around female sexuality?

Of course! Women are constantly met with disdain when open about their sluttiness.

So, are fantasies of nonconsensual sex a type of projection they do because of this?

In some cases, yes!

Transferring our own sexual desires unto another gives us permission to act them out without feeling guilty or dirty – because, inside this fantasy, it isn’t us committing the indecencies.

... Okay then...

Summing up theories five and six:

Control. To feel wanted, lusted for, obsessed over, and coveted by others. The power of driving someone to lovesick desire, a frenzied state, where they would do anything, even illegal, to have you. Additionally, despite such harsh cases of ego, wanting none of the responsibility for it, wanting to be free of sin, to maintain innocence and purity in light of such dark desires.

Or is there a seventh theory? One found in our idyllic construct of freedom – this aimless goal of ours to make ourselves appreciate breathing – done by balancing the electric powerline between having and losing control.

Is it this act of switching places, the attraction and pull, the stimuli and response, the attack and retaliation? In the chaos of contradictions and uncertainty, we find a thrill that occupies our otherwise hibernating minds – bored to the degree that we become machines in our daily programs. 

Is it simply that we need a little extremity as a remedy for our dull lives?

Do we fall in love with illegal things simply because we are denied them? Simply because they’re illegal? Self-harm, drug use, gambling, murder, rape…

Are these things a part of us? And are we, without them, left feeling unfulfilled? Is The Purge perhaps onto something vitally important? A cure for boredom, this mediocrity that leaves us feeling so blue?

I think, if I were to find a comparison, it’s quite similar to the blind bounds of excitement others ascend to in the midst of playing violent video games. The rush of falling in and out of enemy territory, of danger and safety, from being a predator to becoming the prey, of victory and defeat, of chasing death only to be comforted by one’s remaining life – because in reality, you're safe and sound in front of a screen.

Also, in other cases - rollercoasters, horror movies, extreme sports, etc...

Yes, the wish to trip in and out of control isn’t limited to the realm of lust but is present in most aspects of life. We find it in extreme cases such as drugs, gambling, gaming, relationships, and in other subtle cases of professions and work.

If you don’t like it, that’s your business, and I wish you the best of luck in lust elsewhere.

On another note – and such another warning and disclaimer – I want you not to accept my tales of lust as love stories. Personally, I think hints of toxic displays such as jealousy, obsession, and possession in a partner are natural – but – a difference is made when such feelings become restricting to a degree you no longer feel free. I implore you to make such distinctions for yourself when regarding yourself – and, in extreme cases, when regarding others.

In said regard, I do not condone the events nor the actions of the characters in my stories – neither offender nor victim. Don’t allow yourself to fall prey to toxic partners! The signs are always there – keep a weathered eye out for them.

And no, I’m not blaming those who’ve allowed themselves to stay in toxic relationships. I, myself, am guilty of that. But I won’t excuse my poor judgment either. You know when something doesn’t feel right. We shouldn’t blur the lines of right and wrong in the name of love – or whatever else we may lend our self-control to – such as religion, culture, family, societal pressure, etc...

You are in control. Don’t forget it. And don’t allow anything else to become the case.

#so true

[the-yoru-whoru]

hello im a bit confused, i can't find reverse harem part two ? cuz you posted part three 🥲

Sorry!!! It’s here!! I’ll finish my masterlist soon so it’s easier to find things 🥲

[the-yoru-whoru]

I know it’s self indulgent but I love the idea of like… the Valorant team recruiting a noob on their team and all of them working together to teach them the ropes and taking care of them and such… like why doesn’t Valorant have a rookie agent already they would be so cute it’s always someone who’s already very confident if that makes sense.

#valorant

[the-yoru-whoru]

Yoru headcanon (nsfw, tw blood cutting )

- him having a fetish for cutting up his girl with one of his favourite knives, gently slicing through all her clothes and underwear until he reaches her skin, cutting gently across the smooth surface and licking up the beads of blood quickly. Probably loves seeing the marks afterwards. He loves his knives and he loves his girl so what better combination?

mmm Yoru with blood on his face

#imagine #headcanon #knifeplay #valorant #yoru valorant #yoru

[the-yoru-whoru]

Steve Rogers x mute reader | rubbing cock + cum on face | petting | ownership | very degrading | n*fw | I had to get this out | woah first marvel post |

One of his favourite things to do was to make you sit on the ground.

He would push you down gently, patting your head reassuringly as he did so.

You didn’t fully understand why Steve liked this position so much, didn’t understand why he loved to tower over you and look down at your small figure on the ground, caressing and petting the hair he could reach.

It’s not like you ever minded; it was somehow comforting, and you liked being able to nuzzle and hug into his legs as he told you how much of a good girl you were.

You never really replied to what he said, you didn’t like to speak and sometimes you thought Steve liked it this way.

People were always arguing with him, protesting and complaining about whatever he ordered.

Being a leader was a hard job, and you relished in being able to take away at least some of that burden, even if it meant you had to sit on the ground below him.

It wouldn’t take long for him to start getting hard though, his bulge growing larger and larger from your perspective, his jeans eventually straining taut from the hardening member inside.

Then things would usually grow more intense.

You don’t really have a choice when he pulls your face into his crotch, grinding and groaning as he lightly ruts against your soft face.

He loves hearing your muffled whimpers from below, seeing you struggle to breath as he smothers you into his clothes cock.

The smell of his cock is strong even through his pants. The musky scent is reminiscent of sweat and salt, and it fogs up your head even more than it already was, making you more compliant to his wants.

Steve doesn’t dirty talk much, his noises more of a series of breathless groans and grunts as he messes up your hair and rubs your face red, as if even if he did talk you wouldn’t fully understand him.

When he’s gotten too hard that it’s painful, he’ll finally pull out his cock altogether, hastily unzipping his jeans and freeing his dick directly onto your waiting face.

It’s hard to see his dick properly from this angle, and you struggle to even keep your eyes open as he begins to rub his thick cock all over your face.

It’s slightly sticky and warm to the touch, and you only sit there obediently, whimpering every once in a while as he smears his precum onto your checks, poking and prodding at your soft skin with his heavy member.

The smell is even stronger now, and you feel as if you’re growing dizzy from the overwhelming musk that overtakes you.

It’s only then that the soldier will really start talking, low voice raspy with lust.

“This is exactly where you belong,” Steve’ll groan out, moving his dick over your eyes to block your vision, “Underneath my dirty cock, all smothered in it. I love seeing your pretty face become nothing but a place for me to rest my dick; such a lovely, lovely little slut.”

You can’t even reply as he begins to nudge the flushed tip of his cock into your mouth, the sudden invasion making you recoil slightly at the salty taste.

You look up at him pitifully, and you swear his dick only grows harder in your mouth, his breathing growing ragged as he brings his hands down to grab both sides of your head crudely.

He loves inching his dick into your mouth slowly, watching your discomfort grow more and more as you struggle to fit the whole thing.

Steve adored the control he had over you, the total submission and lack of pride you held to yourself to be handled so degradingly, to let him dirty your sweet image with his unrelenting dirty wants and pleasure.

It was a sweet release from how he usually acted, how everyone seemed to see him.

“That’s right,” He would breath out, seeing tears well up in your eyes as you began to struggle and gag on his cock, the thick member filling your throat and tiny mouth, “Don’t you dare fucking move. Let me enjoy this.”

Even with his cock fully submerged in your wet mouth, his voice was still soft and gentle, almost condescending as he didn’t let you breath, only pulling you closer and closer in using your hair as his handles.

Soon your face would be pressed up against his crotch completely, vision blurred and nose nestled in the thick blond pubes.

Although you would do anything Steve asked, you always hated this part.

It felt like hours that he would keep his dick nestled in the warm comfort your mouth, forgetting your need to breath and ignoring your discomfort at having his warm fat cock invading every one of your senses.

Your jaw would ache and your knees would grow sore from sitting on the ground for so long, but still you waited, letting him use your mouth as nothing but a fleshlight for him to stick his cock into, a warm hole to be filled by him for his pleasure.

Finally, finally, he would begin to slowly thrust in and out, the lewd squelching sounds of the accumulated drool filling the room.

You can only gag and cry as he would fuck into your face earnestly, balls slapping your chin and hands still gripping tightly onto your head as he pounded your abused mouth and spread your own spit all over your face.

If you tried to get up he would shove you down easily, groans becoming full on growls as he lost himself in the pleasure.

He usually lost control of any sense of respect and modesty at this point, the things he would say being absolutely vile and unacceptable had you not been choking on his cock.

“God, you are so fucking dumb. Do you really have nothing in this little head?” He would knock your head with a knuckle condescendingly, “No self-respect? No pride? You’re okay with letting me use your face for my dirty fat cock? Letting me fuck your mouth until you can’t breath anymore?”

You can’t nod or disagree, can only squeeze your eyes shut and wait for him to cum.

“You don’t need to talk or eat or breath or see, right? You only exist to take my fucking cock, right? Don’t bother answering—that slutty little face says it all.”

It’s not long before you feel his cock swell up in your mouth, and he’s finally pulling his dick out of your abused lips, aiming his twitching cock at your face.

You don’t close your eyes when he cums on you, watching his body tense up as he covers you in his hot cum, the thick liquid spurting out in pumps all over your face.

It lands on your cheeks, nose, lips, and eyes, but you ignore the stinging, only staring up at Steve as he groans at the sight of you covered in his seed.

Still, even then you don’t dare move.

You let him grab your face roughly in his fingers, let him drag his cock across your face one last time to rub his own cum into your skin crudely.

You don’t bother wiping any of the mess off, or even waiting for him to let you stand.

He just stares at you, with an strange expression even now you can’t fully comprehend.

And you don’t say anything.

#degrading k1nk #reader #imagine #writing #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #rough #n*fw #c*m #ownership #mute reader

[the-yoru-whoru]

Part Three | Valorant Discord Group | school au | introverted reader | reverse harem | sfw | part one here

Everyday felt like a dream.

Yoru was a fantastic cook; most days you woke up to the sounds of him in the kitchen, making food you knew would taste amazing, like savoury omurice and warm rice balls.

You liked how he would decorate your plates nicely, sometimes adding a delicate garnish or a smiley face.

He would place the dishes in front of you with a gruff face, mouth permanently folded into a frown you could only assume was his resting expression.

You always gave him a shy thanks before digging in, melting at the flavours exploding in your mouth.

Sometimes you would see the corner of his mouth tick up, expression turning into an intriguing mixture of smug and satisfied.

That is, until Pheonix usually barged in, Yoru's frown turning into a downright scowl as he shoved some food onto Pheonix's plate messily, a harsh contrast to how he treated yours.

Still, the two got along surprisingly well despite their bickering, and if there was one thing they always seemed to agree on, it was that your well-being was their priority; and in a way, you felt almost spoiled by them.

Especially since you don't go to school anymore.

Sometimes you felt guilty for dropping out, but honestly, it was hard to miss the stress of classes, the anxiety of being near strangers, and the strain of having to raise your voice to talk to anyone.

With Pheonix and Yoru, they always seemed to listen, leaning over to hear your hushed words intently, never making any sudden moves while near you.

It was comforting. Everything nowadays was.

Except on nights when you would wake up sweating, chest heavy and heart racing with fear, flashes of unwanted memories still running through your mind.

It was easy to go to one of the two boys for comfort, to stand beside their bed trembling, arms shaking as you wrapped them around yourself and sobbed quietly.

How they reacted depended on who you came to.

When Yoru wakes up and notices, he quickly jolts out of bed to put his hands on your shoulders, face immediately setting into a firm line, eyes flashing with concern.

He voice is low and steady as he guides you through breathing exercises with that rough voice, rubbing your shoulders up and down comfortingly with his warm hands until your sobs subside.

Only then does Yoru pull you into bed against himself, body firm and steady under your weak hands.

Phoenix on the other hand will immediately jump out of bed and embrace you, holding you tightly as you grip onto his warm figure.

His overwhelming warmth engulfs you until your fear is replaced by drowsiness, and it always isn’t long before you’re melting into his arms and falling fast asleep.

You’ll wake up in bed next to him, his arms still protectively wrapped around you.

It was difficult not to notice how much they touched you now.

It was as if they were making up for the past years of not being able to see you with how much they initiated physical contact.

Goodbyes always came with a hug if it was Phoenix, and you’ve lost count of how many times Yoru had ruffled your hair when going out the door.

They liked to guide you to certain places, if there was a movie Phoenix was linking arms with you all the way to the couch, and sometimes Yoru would be the one to carry you back to be when you fell asleep during said movie.

Even sitting next to each other, thighs or arms would always be touching slightly, the lingering warmth making you feel at home.

But sometimes it was hard not to grow flustered.

It didn’t help that both men were hardcore gym bros and went together everyday of the week, and it definitely didn’t help that they were both extremely handsome.

But you shoved those thoughts down for another time.

Finally the day comes when you decide to join discord again, and you’re shocked by the sheer amount of messages you had received but never replied to while in your depressed hiatus.

Thousands of concerned calls, messages, and tags begging for you to say something, anything, and you can feel your eyes tear up at how much your friends had missed and worried for you.

Omen, the usual stoic recluse, had spammed you non-stop with despairing text messages eventually reducing to garbled self-degrading texts about everything he could have done better, eventually turning into a vent of private things you didn’t feel comfortable reading without his permission.

Chamber had done the opposite. Although he had also texted a fair amount, his were short and cold, demanding rather than begging. Some of his threats sent a shiver through your body, but there was always an underlying desperation in his tone.

Unlike the other two, Sova was none of that. The gentle sweetheart was neither cold nor despaired, he had only sent long, heartfelt paragraphs, full of bittersweet recounts of things you used to play and do together, and how much he missed you.

Meanwhile, Yoru’s messages were full of unfiltered, blunt anger. Nothing but pure rage directed towards anyone and anything. You can’t make it through the stream of intense text before you’re clicking out, hands shaking. It was so different from the way he acted towards you in real life, and so different from how he acted towards you in your first meeting.

Phoenix’s were of genuine concern; the man had always been the honest type, he never hid what he was feeling and it was clear in the way he frantically texted you over and over about how much he missed you and how much everyone was worrying.

Surprisingly, Cypher hadn’t said a word.

After you had finished catching up to all the unread messages, you hands hovered over the keyboard, uncertain of what to do next.

You knew you had to confront the others a some point, and maybe you would even get to meet them the same way you did Phoenix and Yoru.

There was only one way to find out.

—

Sorry for the rather short and dry part three, the next part will have actual n*fw and some more interesting stuff haha, for now I thought it would be cool to do a poll for which valorant guy reader should be introduced to first in the next part!

#imagine #reader #writing #valorant #reader insert #yoru x reader #phoenix x reader #reverse harem #discord au #school au #protective

[the-yoru-whoru]

Masterlist + Info

Total works :

Commissions here

About me

Hi! I like to write things, mainly pairings and romance and fluff and…smut. Obviously lol. I will write about extremely taboo things at times, obviously I have limits but I will tag what I write, if you don’t like don’t read. I write what I want. Some of my major fav things to write are yandere, non-con, and possessiveness. The toxic stuff lol. Feel free to ask or message me anything! I don’t take request anymore but I’ll do commissions for those who really wanna support or enjoy my writing lol, I have barely any limits to what I’ll write so hope you enjoy my stuff :) thanks!!!

Masterlist Below

(Wip, will add all stories soon)

Valorant

Yoru

Yoru x Reader | Yandere Au | Part 1

Yoru x Reader | nsfw | rough | cnc |

Yoru x reader | Cuddling | nsfw | somno

Yoru x Reader | Yandere au | kidnapping | violence | stockholm syndrome | nsfw | non-con

Yoru x Reader | unfinished fanfiction | tsundere protective Yoru

Phoenix

Sova

Omen

Omen x Reader | nsfw | chasing | cnc

Cypher

Chamber

Multiple pairing

Valorant men x Reader | reverse-harem | nsfw parts | dub-con | discord au | school au | Part 1

Valorant men x Reader | reverse-harem | discord au | school au | comfort | Part 2

Valorant men x Reader | reverse-harem | headcanons | discord au | school au | Part 3

Genshin impact

Marvel

Transformers

My Hero Academia

Other

Junkrat x Reader | possessive

More added as I write more lol

[the-yoru-whoru]

Phoenix x reader | Big brother | inc*st | rough | slight angst and comfort | adopted sister | dead dove do not eat | suggestive | if u don’t like inc*st…. DONT READ LOL | I thought this might be a little much for a return fic but... i wanted to write it lol | also this was originally in bullet point format, so it might read a bit weird at some points, apologies

“Shhh!” Phoenix whisper-yells at you, a panicked expression on his face.

The loud music outside is muffled by the wooden walls of the closet, and although it's dark, light seeps through the cracks of the door, giving you just enough vision to see your brother's heavily flushed face, the tousled locks of his hair falling messily into his face.

He's leaned over your small figure, and although you fit into the closet just barely, he's struggling to even maneuver himself inside the cramped space, broad shoulders hunched over uncomfortably just to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling.

You just giggle at his frantic behavior, squirming around to lightly tap him on his head with an open hand.

“You’re the one making the most noise, big bro,” You say teasingly, trailing another hand down his chest with your index finger, "Plus, I really really really wanna meet your friends!"

You try to push past him to the exit of the closet, eager to see the lively party beyond the closed doors.

Suddenly, Pheonix grabs your hand roughly, pinning it back against the wall of the closet with a loud thud.

You make a squeak of surprise, but his other large hand comes up too, covering your mouth completely as you stare up at your brother, shocked.

He seems a little stunned as well, as if his body had moved on its own, but he gathers himself and stares down at you sternly as he leans you up against the closet back, effectively walling you in.

"Listen, I can't believe you followed me out tonight–I mean, come on! You know Mom and Dad are gonna friggin' murder me if they find out you went to a party, even more so if you meet my friends!"

You blink up at him, confused, trying to talk but still unable to speak under his firm grip.

Pheonix loosens his hand to let you speak, and you can't help but protest.

"But why not? All you ever do nowadays is hang out with your new friends, shouldn't I get to meet them at least once?"

But your brother only shakes his head, looking even more stressed. Your eyes linger on the bead of sweat that drips down his temple.

"No no no–it's different, alright?" You hate when he uses that tone of voice on you, "Mom and Dad don't like my friends, you know that. And they sure as hell don't want their only daughter to be hanging out with some bad influences."

You can hear laughing outside the closet, a male talking to a girl about knives or something.

Pheonix is still staring at you intently, body not moving an inch as restrains your movement.

"So I'm just supposed to stay home alone and be a good girl every day?" You say, hurt creeping into your voice, "While you get to go out and have fun every night? Nowadays, I never even get to see you anymore, every time I try to hang out you just avoid me!”

When the two of you were younger you used to be like best friends; Phoenix had always done right to treat you like his real little sister, and you remember always being able to come to him for anything and everything. It was a far cry from how he acted towards you nowadays.

“Just admit it already—admit that you hate me and you’re too embarrassed to let your new cool friends meet your loser, little sister! "

You want to say more but Phoenix slams his hand into the wall behind you, shaking the whole tiny closet. The outside party quiets confusedly for a second, before growing again.

The male leans into you darkly, his usually energetic demeanor uncharacteristically somber.

His eyes haven’t moved from you this whole time, and now his stare is downright intense, his gaze making you want to fidget but you dared not to move.

His body seems to radiate extreme heat, and for a moment he doesn’t say a word, face flashing with expressions of regret and anger.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything. He simply kisses you.

His mouth is warm and slightly salty, and you’re frozen in shock as he moves his lips over yours.

His voice rumbles lowly in his throat as the hand gripping your wrist tightens painfully.

It’s like the party, the noise, and even the closet surrounding you have just melted away, and all you can think is: holy shit, my brother is kissing me.

When he finally pulls away, it takes a moment for you to gather yourself, and you can only stare at him slack-jawed as he struggles to catch his breath, chest heaving with every intake of air as if he’d run a marathon.

It’s silent between the two of you before he finally breaks the silence.

“I could never hate you,” Phoenix is so serious he almost seems like a different person, but there’s still a familiar edge of nervousness in his voice you’re just able to catch, “I know my friends would love you if they met you. That’s exactly why I don’t want you meeting them.”

You shiver at his next words, “I don’t want to have to share you with anyone. I won’t.”

“Because you’re mine, lil sis.”

You can’t think straight, all you can do is stare at him dumbly as you try to think of what to say, try to ignore the leap in your chest as he speaks.

You must be taking too long because his serious look begins to soften into panic as you remain silent, his body beginning to retreat slightly in worry. But you don’t want him to leave you again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” His face contorted into regret, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I just—!”

You cut him off with your own lips, having to pull him down and tip-toe in order to kiss him forcefully until his protests die on his tongue.

When you pull away, his eyes look even hungrier, and the warmth from his body is almost too much to bear, but you don’t get a say before he’s shoving you against the wall with his whole weight, your body pressed up tightly against him as he grips onto your wrists roughly and full on groans, lips finding your lips again and kissing you deeply this time, his touch scorching hot against your skin.

You can barely contain your own moans, still aware in the back of your mind of the people who still surround the two of you, trying desperately not to make a squeak as your older brother desperately pokes and prods against your mouth with his own thick tongue like a man starved.

Until you feel something below stir against you, and then you can’t contain the yelp of surprise that escapes you.

Everything is so unbearably hot, every breath you take just smells like Pheonix, a slightly ashy, sweaty scent that has your head swirling.

Somehow you know he’s wanted this for a long time because of the way he grips and touches every part of you desperately, an eagerness in his touch you’ve never seen before, but only felt in his eyes in the past. Everything seemed to click into place the more your brother felt you in places that should have been forbidden; why he suddenly seemed so distant, why he hesitated to do things the two of you used to do previously.

Phoenix finally pauses in his frantic touching to pull back slightly, eyes taking in the sight of you in front of him, lips flushed and messy, clothes wrinkled and ruffled.

“Are you… Okay?” He pants out, and you can’t help but giggle.

“I’m more than okay,” You say teasingly.

You savour the way Pheonix’s face breaks into a relieved smile, teeth glinting white in the dark closet.

“Whew,” He breathes, and his intense expression has lifted, replaced by his usual easiness as he looks at you adoringly.

The two of you don’t say a word about how wrong this is, don’t dare to even think of how you’ll handle this in the future, but when Pheonix brings you in firm embrace and kisses the top of your head, all you do is sigh contently, happy to finally have your brother back.

Word count : 1433

#imagine #reader #writing #valorant #reader insert #phoenix x reader #phoenix imagine #suggestive

[the-yoru-whoru]

YOU'RE BACK! i never really forgot you

Please don’t mind how this brings me to tears 😭😭😭

[the-yoru-whoru]

update

So,,,,hi. IM SORRY for the extreme disappearance, I’m finally free and back to do more writing for myself and others. I hadn’t expected life to get so busy and chaotic, and it’s only now that I’m finally stable, ready, and confident to come back to doing what I love! Writing cute and spicy things for fictional characters…., yay!

So I’ve already got some drafts started up, I’m gonna post a part three to the Valorant Discord imagine fairly soon, and a few others as well. I’m also going to be trying to sort my posts into a taglist soon, for easier navigation as well, so stay tuned for that! However this time, I just don’t have the ability to accept requests, and for that, I’m extremely sorry. Instead, I’ll have some writing commissions open if anyone wants a custom piece and I’ll be extremely grateful for anyone who supports me and my writing! Of course, I'm still gonna post my own ideas and writing and such, it's just custom content and suggestions I cannot accept for free for the sake of avoiding burning out. Hopefully, that makes sense, and like I said there are other options if you're truly interested.

If you’re still here on Tumblr and sorta remember me then goddamn ur a real one and I’m always extremely thankful. I hope my new posts and writing will be good enough for everyone to enjoy, and thanks again!

#update #return from death

[the-yoru-whoru]

Commission them for all your self-indulgent needs,,,, lol

Another commission for @the-yoru-whoru

Thank you for commissioning me again!💕

#artists on tumblr #valorant #valorant fanart #yoru valorant #commission open #original character

[the-yoru-whoru]

I’m still on hiatus but look at how amazing this looks :,))) So freaking cute I love Yoru

Commission for @the-yoru-whoru

Thank you for commissioning me! It had too much fun working on this piece💕

#yoru #valorant yoru #oc x yoru #original character

[the-yoru-whoru]

Short hiatus while I graduate 👍

[the-yoru-whoru]

Itto x reader | I missed u | random cause lonely

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as his massive frame trembled.

“I missed you so goddamn much,” He muttered, almost sounding angry at you.

You can’t stop the smile that creeps onto your face from how clingy he’s acting, “I’m sorry baby, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Itto just nuzzles his face closer into the crook of your neck, long hair brushing against your face, “Yeah but… don’t want to let go just yet.”

You laugh, and then stroke his hair gently, “I missed you too, you big goof.”

There’s silence, and then his voice muffled from under his embrace, “I’m gonna pick you up now,” Is all he says before he’s swooping you into his arms.

You yelp before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, steadying yourself in his grasp. You feel so high up, and his hold on you is sturdy and steady.

“Itto?” You tilt your head at him curiously when he begins walking, “Where are we going?”

He doesn’t look down at you, but his face flushed a deep crimson, almost as dark as the red markings that adorn his face.

“Taking you home,” You snuggle into his warm chest, “I wanna make out with you in bed. Can’t do that shit out here. ”

You can’t help the flush of red that comes over you too.

Then you smile bashfully, looking at him with adoration and love.

“Of course, baby. That sounds wonderful.”

#itto x reader #genshin impact itto #Itto #genshin impact #reader #writing #imagine #reader insert #arataki itto

[the-yoru-whoru]

Streamer reader x Yandere Omen | Valorant protocol doesn’t exist in this au | omen’s physical appearance is unspecified in this as well | reader is super chill and sleepy and plays animal crossing | obsessed / simp / stalker Omen | idk I feel like this is funny cause some streamer stans really be acting like this ( as in they both pretend to worship and control everything about their favs at the same time lmao ) | two endings, one normal one n*fw lol | going to write about Phoenix next cause I never write about him lol

Omen finds your stream out of pure luck.

He doesn’t usually go on twitch, he prefers watching those funny cat videos on YouTube when he has the chance between work.

But there were only so many cute videos of cats he could watch before he started wondering about other content.

Living alone got…isolating at times. He’d find himself aimlessly following the same routine day after day, heading to work with his head down, coming back only when it was dark out, his apartment always cold and empty.

He made enough to live comfortably and then some; but he had no desire to travel, no family to spoil and no interests besides knitting, which was already fairly inexpensive.

Twitch was difficult to navigate at first. He clicked on streams and tried not to cringe at how loud people would be talking, or the violent games they were playing. Chat often sped by, their words blurring together and speech riddled with terms he didn’t know.

He found out that streams with too many viewers were too much for him.

You had a fair amount of viewers.

He’d clicked on your thumbnail by accident while he was going through the animal crossing category. He’d often played the game himself, and found it relaxed him most of the time.

The first thing Omen noticed was your appearance.

Your hair was tussled in a neat little way, strands sticking up as if you had just rolled out of bed.

The sweater you wore was adorably oversized, the thick fabric swallowing you in its folds.

And you had the most attractive face he’d ever seen, from your pretty mouth curved up into a small smile, to your drowsy eyes, half-lidded as if fighting to stay awake.

Your voice was soft, but the mic picked it up easily. There was a slight raspiness to your voice, a calmness that he felt rock through his body and to his core.

For a moment, Omen felt like this must be what love at first sight feels like.

Until his fingers hit the screen where your face cam is. Then he remembers he’s watching a stream.

You’re still talking softly, giggling lightly at some comments in chat. His eyes are glued to you.

Before he knows it an hour has gone by and all he’d done was watch you.

You were doing an assortment of things; fishing, decorating, farming. All the while you talked in that maddening way, face flushing at certain comments, or small hands coming up to rub at your eyes tiredly.

Omen felt like he could see the appeal of twitch now.

Watching you play was both calming and exhilarating in a strange way.

He could feel his back cramp with how long he’d been crouched over his laptop, drinking in every movement and sound you made.

So he moved to the bed, watching you play till 3 in the morning, when after your 6th yawn in a row where you reluctantly told stream you had to end, thanking everyone who came and spoke in chat, as well as the lurkers who supported the stream just by watching.

The screen went blank, the word “offline” filling the screen.

He stared at it blankly, trying to process what had just happened.

Glancing at the clock, he almost recoiled in shock at how much time had gone by. He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, he hadn’t done laundry, he hadn’t cleaned up, he hadn’t even used the bathroom and taken a shower yet.

Dazed, he fixed himself a quick meal and got ready for bed hastily, lying down and looking up at the ceiling in wonder.

Maybe next time you streamed he’d talk in chat.

Omen settled into bed again, propping some pillows against the headboard, and leaning back. He was on top of his covers with his laptop in his lap, the screen brightly lit. He glanced at the clock. 7:56. Your stream should be starting in a few minutes. He refreshed your twitch page again out of anticipation. There was still a plate on his side table, he’d quickly eaten a slice of bread for dinner, and his work clothes lay wrinkled on the ground.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you were live. He quickly clicked on the stream, raising the volume and letting your voice ring through his empty apartment. You had gotten more popular since he’d first saw you, now chat flew by quickly, and viewers shot up as soon as you went live. For some reason he couldn’t help but feel unhappy about that.

“Hi guys!” You were unusually energetic today, “How’s everyone’s afternoon been?”

There was a slight pause as chat filled with good’s and bad’s. He could see your eyes tracking the chat, as if waiting for something. Maybe he was imaging it, but he’d like to think you were waiting for his response specifically. He quickly typed out his answer, fingers quivering above the keyboard.

*tired, but trying to relax*

Almost immediately you nodded in sympathy, making a small noise of acknowledge. Omen’s heart skipped a beat. Did you read his response? Chat was moving so fast; was that just a coincidence? It couldn’t be.

“Well, I’m sorry if anyone had a bad day today, I also didn’t have the best day but…” Omen‘s hand flew to the donation button before you could even finish, “At least now I get to play games all night!”

His donation popped up in the corner of the screen.

*iheartcats donated 50$ : sorry that you had a bad day as well. hope tomorrow is better.

He watched your eyes flick to the text, widening adorably as usual, “Wow, thank you for the 50$ Iheartcats!”

You paused to read his message quickly, “Aww, that’s really sweet, I really do appreciate your support, dude. That’s so nice of you.”

Omen tried not to squeeze his laptop too tightly under his grip.

Tonight you were playing Stardew.

He always appreciated how you played those kinds of games; peaceful, domestic, calm. Games that didn’t stress him out or trigger him in anyway. The music would always be something repetitive and comforting, and there were never jump scares either.

Although he didn’t often watch the gameplay. Most of the time his gaze was on you, staring longingly at those plush lips of yours, and watching your every move. It all seemed so adorable, so flawless. He knew that it was impossible for a person to do no wrong, but it often seemed perfection like you was too good for this world.

A delicate hand came to rest on your chin as you contemplated what to respond to some character prompt for friendship points, “I don’t know what to say here guys… I’ve gotten this far but I don’t wanna mess up my points.”

He watched you sigh and hover over the options again.

Omen suddenly had an idea. He quickly searched up the character route and the correct answers. An excited anticipation rising inside of him, he clicked on the donation button yet again, quickly typing out his message and linking his credit card.

*iheartcats donated 100$ : correct response should be the last one.

He watched you blink at the screen curiously as you read it, before realization settled in.

You shift uncomfortably in the camera, and he could see you bite your lip anxiously, “Thank you for the donation, I do really love the support, but you don’t need to spoil the answers, I think finding them out ourselves is what makes it’s fun!”

Omen felt his heart sink in his chest. He didn’t know what to do. He’d been donating so much, and you still treated him like everyone else, like you were putting some kind of distance between you two. All he wanted was to be able to talk to you, for you to acknowledge his existence with more then a small thanks. And now it’s even backfired on him; you didn’t like that he’d spoiled the answer.

“Fuck…” He mumbled out loud, gaze quickly darting from the gameplay to your face again.

He loved watching you play. It was the one thing he could look forward to in his grey life. He felt like he could be satisfied just watching you and supporting you forever. You deserved the new viewers and new sponsors and donations and admiration. It was something you earned and you didn’t owe anyone special treatment or value.

Then why…why did he feel so pissed off?

Omen couldn’t stop gripping the laptop, the metal creaking slowly under the pressure. He could feel the darkness creeping in again, the walls he’d put up to keep them at bay slowly cracking and letting it in like poison gas.

He only wanted to help. He was your number one fan. He showed up to every stream, donated generous amounts of money, followed and commented on all your social media, and even bought the limited amount of merchandise you put on sale. He was always in chat, always first to click on your videos, the first to find out about you before you blew up.

You were back to playing, and he felt a bitter stab in his chest when you cheerfully thanked someone else for a donation, giving an almost identical response to their donation as you did for his. This was bullshit.

Before he could think he was keying in another donation.

*iheartcats donated 1000$ : why won’t you notice me

Omen saw you glance at it. He could barely hear your voice over the thumping in his chest, the blooming hope that maybe now you’d say something different, that you would at least acknowledge him with more then a quick thanks.

Instead, your face barely changed, the only giveaway that you even saw his message was your mouth twitching into a frown. Your shoulders hunched over, as if uncomfortable, and suddenly he felt like he’d done something incredibly wrong.

Your stream suddenly froze. Omen panicked, cursor immediately going to the refresh button to reset his browser. But the small message that popped up made him freeze.

You…you banned him? No, this had to be a mistake. Omen refreshed the page over and over, finger smashing the laptop so hard that the screen began to glitch at the edges, greens and blacks creeping in from the sides. He pulled himself out of bed and snatched his computer, unable to stop the pure anger seeping through him.

“Really?? After all I did for her? She’s gonna fucking ban me??” He growled out between gritted teeth, before flinging his computer to the wall, ignoring the loud bang it made before sliding to the floor, screen finally turning black. He stood there for moment, breath heavy and body slightly trembling. He could taste bile in the back of his throat, and he suppressed to urge to break another expensive item.

No. This wasn’t fair.

Omen pulled out his luckily intact phone from his pocket, and quickly punched in the number.

“Hello? Yeah, Cypher listen.” He glanced back at his destroyed laptop on the ground, “ I need your help.”

- one ending : Omen goes to Cypher and gets his computer fixed 👍

N*fw ending below non con warning

You blearily opened your eyes, mind still foggy with sleep. Yawning, you turned over in your bed, glancing outside your window. It was the middle of the night, and you could see the moon in the clear dark sky. Absentmindedly, you thought about how pretty it was.

You tried to fall back asleep, but your throat was uncomfortably dry from talking so much earlier, so you reluctantly rolled out of bed, slowly walking past your streaming station and towards the kitchen.

The floor was strangely cold against your bare feet, and you looked around confusedly. Weird; your window was open. You didn’t remember opening it, but you don’t remember closing it either. Shrugging, you quickly shut the window and locked it, shivering from the night time breeze.

Quickening at the thought of your warm bed, you poured yourself a cup of water, gulping down the liquid quickly and wiping the excess off with your sleeve. But something felt off. You turned around, looking around your home. The kitchen was attached to the living room, and as far as you could tell it was empty. You hadn’t bothered turning on the lights as the moon outside was bright enough to dimly brighten your path, but still; the long shadows across the floor were creeping you out, and it was eerily quiet. You took a step backwards, cup wobbling in your hand.

Suddenly you backed into something hard and firm.

“Mhm—!” You didn’t have time to scream before a heavy hand slid over your mouth, holding down hard as to not let a sound out. Your cup slips out of your grasp and shatters on the floor.

You struggle against your assailant for a few moments, pulling desperately at his forearm, kicking back at his figure. But he didn’t even budge. You feel your feet scrape against the broken glass, sharp stings of pain barely registering in your state of terror.

Your assailant caught one of your flailing fists, easily taking hold of your wrist in one hand.

“Scream and I break your wrist,” He said quietly.

You stopped moving, a chill going down your spine. His voice was incredibly deep, he didn’t even sound human. There was an unnatural rumble in his tone, a strange brokenness in his intonation. But the threat was there and clear. Even now you could feel your wrist bruise under what must be a mere squeeze for him. You had no doubt he could easily snap it.

“Nod if you understand,” He whispered.

After a moments pause, you shakily nodded, tears already streaming down your face. The hand covering your mouth slowly released.

You resisted the urge to cry out for help. He leaned over you, hot breath brushing against the side of your face. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was tall, if the long shadow casted over you was any indication.

“Do you know who I am?” He asks you, voice ragged, “Think carefully.”

His form shifts behind you, and you can’t help the sob that escapes your chest, fear coursing through your body.

“I-I don’t know! Please just—” You shriek when he picks you up effortlessly.

He carries you to your room and you feel lightheaded as he puts you down none too gently on your streaming chair.

“Here,” He grunts, “A clue.”

You are finally able to glance up at him. His face is covered by a shadow so you can’t make out any of his features, but you can tell his body is built even from under his sweater, and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal forearms that are thick and sturdy.

Trembling, you look away from him. He’s sat you at your streaming station. You’re not stupid, you know what this means.

“You watch me stream, r-right?” You say carefully.

He nods.

“So…” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, staring at the black screen of your monitor as if it would help you, “You’re a fan?”

It’s almost amusing when he nods solemnly, “Big fan.”

You wracked your mind. You could only think of one person.

“Iheartcats?” You say questioningly.

You’re startled when he swivels your chair to himself, leaning down excitedly, “Yes! Yes, that’s me!”

He shakes you by your shoulders lightly, and you’re unsettled by the sudden mood change.

You give him a crooked smile, “G-great! I’m glad you enjoy t-the streams!”

His shoulders sag, “But you banned me.”

Your blood goes cold again, “I-I’m sorry about that.”

He falls quiet, and you feel uneasy as you wait for his next move. You want to dart to your phone and call for help, but you don’t think you could get to it before he stops you.

“My name is Omen,” He breaks the silence with a sudden polite introduction.

“I’m Y/N.” You tell him shakily, even though you know he already knows that.

After a pause, he pulls away from you and starts pacing the room, muttering intensely to himself. You can only watch him as he takes heavy steps from one side of your bedroom to the other, presence large and unwelcoming in what should be your safe space.

“W-what do you want from me?” You finally ask, unable to keep waiting in this tense anticipation for him to do something.

He stops and turns to you, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Omen admits, “I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, but now that I have done so I find that… it’s not enough.”

You recoil back.

Omen enters your space again, hot breath making you feel dizzy, “I want you to thank me. For being your number one supporter. I deserve that, at least.”

You open your mouth to quickly give him thanks so he’ll be satisfied, but he shakes his head dismissively.

“No, not like that,” He sounded disappointed, “Just…get on the ground.”

“What?” You must’ve mishear him, “The ground?”

Impatience seeps into his voice, “Yes. On your knees.”

Confused, you slowly sink out of your chair and to the floor, sitting on your knees and leaning back onto your heels. It’s only when he comes to stand in front of you do you realize what he wants.

“No! No way, just leave me alone—”

You try to get up but he shoves you back down, hands going to rest of your shoulders, the warning behind them clear.

You try to reason with him, “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? Please, I’ll unban you, I’ll talk to you, whatever you want, okay?”

He ignores you, unzipping his pants and already pulling his hard cock out. You try pulling away, but one of his hand grips at you tightly, holding you in place. The tip of his dick brushes against your cheek.

“Please!” You sob desperately.

Omen looks down at you, face still shrouded in darkness, “You are so pretty.”

You don’t reply, hiccuping through your tears.

His next words sound deranged, “I love you so much, I t’s driving me insane. I want to know everything about you, want to see you in every position, to worship and sacrifice my life to you. I thought that I would be happy being nothing to you, being barely anything but a fleeting thought in your mind if only you were to notice and acknowledge me for a few mere seconds. I thought that being nothing but your fan would be enough to fill my mundane life with something as perfect as you. ”

“But now, seeing you like this, kneeling before me,” Omen’s rasps, “I think I like this better.”

You open your mouth to call him insane but he quickly shoves his length into your mouth, the sudden intrusion making you gag.

His hand grips at your hair tightly, making you since, “Don’t you dare bite down.” He warns you before he starts sloppily thrusting into your warmth.

You try your best to accommodate him, stretching your jaw until you’re aching, but he just gazes down at you, breathing heavily and taking in the sight. You could only imagine what he sees; you struggling on his cock, face red and eyes puffy from crying, mouth barely able to open around him. Omen looked terrifying, the glowing moonlight behind him making him look akin to a monster. You didn’t know if it was the shadows, but the skin of his hands looked pitch black, and from what you could see, the skin of his pelvis did as well.

But you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before he was easing his cock into your throat, your nose pressed up against his pelvis. You struggled to breath, eyes widening in panic.

“Relax,” He groaned out, voice thick with bliss, “Relax your throat, sweetheart.”

You want to push him off of you, to bite down and hear him be in pain. But the repercussions scare you too much, and you’re too much of a coward to fight back.

He seems pent up; it’s not long before he’s speeding up, your gagging sounds only spurring him on.

“God, you feel so good!” His gravely voice cracks, desperation seeping into the seams, “I love you so much, holy shit. You’re the only thing I can think about everyday of my pathetic life. Fuck, you’re so perfect—” He cuts himself off with a moan.

His breath goes ragged, and then you feel his hot load fill your mouth, the thick liquid rolling down your throat uncomfortably. Omen holds you there for a few seconds, his chest heaving with his orgasm. Then he pulls out of your sore mouth, hand slowly releasing your hair as well.

You cough and sputter, stray cum dripping down your face and vision blurred from the tears in your eyes.

Omen quickly puts his softening cock away and then bends down to your level. In the back of your mind you almost find it endearing when he attempts to wipe away his seed from your chin, thick fingers gentle as if in apology.

“I,” his rumbling voice turns sincere, “I really meant everything I said. I really do love you.”

You don’t want to respond to him. You turn your face from his concerned gaze, not caring how childish it seemed. He sighed tiredly.

“It’s alright if you see upset. I’m just…” Omen pats you on your head awkwardly, “I’m happy you’re finally noticing me.”

Even when you don’t respond he doesn’t stop stroking your hair adoringly.

“Plus, now I can watch your streams in real life. Isn’t that neat?”

#imagine #reader #writing #valorant #n*fw #reader insert #omen #valorant omen x reader #omen x reader #valorant omen #Yandere #streamer #streamer au

[the-yoru-whoru]

hey! just a thought, have you considered doing any female val agents x reader? if not, your writing is still great and id love to see more! your writing is honestly phenomenal, keep up the great work! <3

Hmmmm I’ve written girl Oc’s before but I haven’t ever done female x reader before. I’ll try at one point maybe but it might be bad so I’ll practice a bit first lol

I’m so glad u enjoy my writing tho!

[the-yoru-whoru]

you are a spectacular writer and i get so excited when i see you have posted. congrats on your beautiful, wet brain that holds great writing skills!!!!

Thank you so much!! I appreciate it and I’m glad u like the stuff !