Yandere Diavolo Please With An Ex-s/o Nsfw Headcanons Please

olive in her favourite spot having a ponder

Ying and yang as characters

They've literally swapped places, I think that shows how much they compete eachother honestly.

Rigged [DEAL WITH THE DEVIL COLLAB]

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, attempted murder, DUBCON, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of breeding, manipulation, swearing, Tsukishima being kind of a jerk

Special: This is for the Deal With The Devil collab with one of my favorite authors on tumblr: @seijorhi and a bunch of other awesome tumblr authors!

Notes: I’ve never written this far into NSFW before, so I hope this turns out okay! O_O I hope you guys enjoy eek! It turned out a LOT longer than I expected, too.

Summary: You didn’t want to go to him for help but you had no other choice. It’s just too bad his game was rigged from the start.

rig

/verb/

manage or conduct (something) fraudulently so as to produce a result or situation that is advantageous to a particular person.

“I’m heading out, Dad!” The wane smile that forced its way onto your face stretched your cheeks and chapped lips in a way that hurt almost as much as the insincerity behind it. Your father saw right through your facade, of course, but there was no way he could guess how much more difficult it was to produce today than any of the previous days.

Walking out of that rundown shabby shack, your bare feet leaving imprints in the dusty soil under you… as unfortunate as this turn of events was, you knew that you couldn’t go on this way. Not for your sake, but your family’s. Your father’s.

The obsidian-black vehicle silently waiting for you looked anything but welcoming. Your once-confident footsteps faltered as your legs began to tremble. “You can do this” became “you have no other choice”. And, God, the knowledge that your choices were gone sent endless blows to your heart.

You had never been so thankful for silence as you were on the ride to your doom. No awkward chitchat or pleasantries were exchanged between the driver and yourself. It was much better that way. Talking meant thinking and thinking meant dwelling on the reason you would be talking to the chauffeur in the first place.

The walk through the mansion was just as silent as the ride there, but a part of you was less comforted by the quiet this time. Now, you wanted nothing more than to distract yourself from your surroundings.

So big, so beautiful, and so horrible. It reminded you so much of your old home- one that you could never step foot in again. Reduced to rubble beyond repair.

How ironic that a once-successful architect lost his house (and fortune) to a small storm. Your father’s work opportunities reduced to rubble as well.

Truly beyond repair.

You were standing in front of him much too quickly for your liking.

“My, my, my, (Y/n), I thought you were done with this sort of work. What brings you to me with such a sudden, desperate request for employment?”

You bit your tongue so viciously that the coppery taste of blood seeped into your wounded taste buds, “My family isn’t doing too well financially, so I thought it would be best to get a job… Tsukishima.”

Bile rose in your throat with the choked force you used to utter his name. He truly made you sick.

“‘Not doing too well financially’,” the tall man mocked your words, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips, “I’d say that’s quite the understatement. I’ve heard that every company within 200 miles has turned him down. Probably because he’s too incompetent to build his own house correctly.”

You wanted to defend your father. You wanted to scream at the disgustingly smug man before you. You wanted to ask why the fuck he chose your family to target for his sadistic amusement.

But you couldn’t.

Not if you wanted to put food on your family’s table for your mother, father, little brothers, and you to survive another day.

“No one in town will hire me, as I’m sure you’re well aware. You said you had a job for me and you’re the only one who will hire me.”

The only one who will hire me because you’ve spread rumors about every member of my family to every business in this damned town.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his smirk becoming even more mocking somehow, “What makes you think I’d hire you?”

Your heart sank.

“I mean,” he continued, cutting off any attempt at a rebuttal, “your skills are pathetic, really. You suck at everything you do. I could easily find a decent assassin in the back alley of this street. In fact, I could probably pay him less than what you’re begging for, too.”

“Please, Tsukishima,” your voice came out in a pitiful whimper that made your insides twist in self-revulsion, “I need this… I’ll do anything… just please.”

A noncommittal hum was your answer, prompting you to fall to your knees and truly beg. In that moment, you hated yourself more than you ever had. But you had no other choice.

“Please, please, please Tsukishima, I’ll do anything, please…” you were bawling, salty streams running down your face and dripping to the expensive carpet you kneeled on.

He heaved a sigh and lazily slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Fine. But I do want you to agree to one condition. In writing.”

“Yes?” your head perked up, your heart soaring in a sudden whirlwind of hope that had your head spinning from the emotional whiplash.

A prewritten paper was pushed across the wooden desk he sat at, graced with his delicate handwriting. The page’s contents froze the blood in your veins, but, regardless, you signed your name on the line he wordlessly indicated.

“If I fail to complete the assassination of Yamaguchi Tadashi within the allotted time (one week), I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.”

That last line sent shivers down your spine, but...

You had no other choice.

But, even as you internally repeated the reassurance on the ride back to the pile of sticks you called home, you deflated with the confidence you were losing bit by bit.

You kind of wished the chauffeur talked during this car ride.

This time the silence was deafening.

One week. That was more time than you’d ever been given. The previous record was five days. This assassination should have been a piece of cake.

So why was this one so much more difficult than any you’d had before?

All you really had to go off was a picture Tsukishima had shown you and a name. A few tips from some… unsavory… people had you standing in front of the Yamaguchi household within the same day.

But those damned rich people had security so tight you almost wondered if they knew you were coming. You didn’t make it to the window you planned to sneak through before security was tossing your ass onto the sidewalk you started on.

Another tip came through, letting you know that the humiliating experience was for all for nothing. The Yamaguchi family was vacationing abroad in England. You had no money for a plane ticket, so the struggle of becoming a stowaway befell you.

Three days into the mission and you had no idea where to find your target and an entire country to search.

Then a tip came through! It wasn’t a vacation, but a business trip! Yamaguchi was pitching a million-dollar idea to a company miles away from the airport. Hitchhiking was never fun, but it was necessary this time around.

Unfortunately, it turned out Tadashi’s father was the Yamaguchi that was meeting with the company. “Questioning” his father led you to a new destination.

The damned man was in Brazil, catching up with some of his old friends.

You were on the fifth day by the time you made it there. Sweltering heat, the only food in your belly being food scraps from garbage cans, and exhaustion… but worst of all, you still had no idea where Yamaguchi was.

A few more tips and you miraculously found the group of friends meeting up, but no one matched the picture you were given. Not a single one of them knew where Yamaguchi was, saying that they hadn’t seen him in a couple years.

You should have guessed his father had lied and you berated yourself on your mistake. On the trip back to Japan, a sickening feeling swirling in your belly overtook you, only worsened tenfold when you looked at the time.

11:46 pm. The end of the seventh day, and, subsequently, your life was less than 15 minutes away. All you wanted to do was sneak off to your family for one last goodbye...

Tsukishima was waiting for you in the airport lobby, his obvious smirk screamed “victory” to you. You trailed behind him like a leashed puppy being led by its owner through the pouring rain.

Time was up, so it was time to die.

You had no other choice.

“So,” Tsukishima sat at the mahogany desk, his grin too much for you to look at, “I believe seven days have passed and, according to our contract, that means you’ve failed to complete your objective in time.

Your voice wavered, even as you held back the tears and straightened up, “I have a request, Tsukishima.”

“You’re not really in a position to bargain, you know,” he quirked an eyebrow upwards, but gave you an indulgent smile, motioning for you to continue with his hands, despite the contradiction in his words.

“When you kill me, can you please make sure my family gets some sort of money? I-I know I failed but… my little brothers are just children. They’re not old enough to get a job, even if our reputation would let them- I mean, the eldest of them won’t be an adult for five years…”

“You want to give back to your family?” Tsukishima hummed to himself, his expression impossible to read, “That’s noble of you, but I’d expect nothing less.”

He straightened up in the leather chair, his smirk fading into a smile that seemed surprisingly gentle… fond, even, “I’ll give money to your family after you die, alright?”

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice. Your lip quivered as you let the tears flow freely from your eyes. Tears not just of terror, but of relief. At least your failure would still benefit your family, which was your goal in the first place.

You just wouldn’t be there to enjoy it with them.

“(Y/n).” His voice still held that victorious smugness in the tone, but the pitch was softer, almost as though he was soothing a child or calming a stray cat. Your eyes were too blurry with tears to see anything more than his figure rounding the desk and approaching you.

“Can… can my death be quick and painless? I know I-I’m asking a l-lot b-but-” you burst into tears, blubbering too much to get the words out. It was… it was real. You were going to die. You were never going to hug your dad, help out your mom, and play with your little brothers again. Their faces flashed through your head as your vision blurred more under the flood of tears.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Surely you were imagining that he’d said you weren’t going to die at his hands, right? You were in denial, or something, right?

The tall blond must have recognized the confusion on your tear-stained face, because he repeated exactly what you’d thought he said, “I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned in close, his warm breath playing across your cheeks and cooling the salty tears that wettened them. His slender fingers slid under your chin and angled your head to face yours.

His eyes. Oh God, the expression in them… You’d never seen this look in Tsukishima’s golden eyes before and it shook you to the core. Protected by just a thin barrier of glass were his golden-brown eyes, the pupil blown wide with soft adoration.

That expression… it reminded you of the time your youngest brother found the cutest little white kitten in the alley near their shack. Before your mother dismissed the idea of keeping it (there were too many mouths to feed already), his eyes shimmered with excitement and love for the tiny bundle of fur he cradled in his arms and cuddled his face into.

The same expression… it matched how Tsukishima was looking at you now. As if you were the only thing in the world that mattered and he finally had gotten it.

You were fucking terrified.

“The contract said ‘I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.’ It didn’t specify that I’d kill you, only that your life would belong to me. That you would belong to me.”

“W-why?” This was all too much… you felt like your head might explode from the spinning tornado of jumbled thoughts whirling through your brain.

His hand wrapped around yours and you allowed him to lead you from the office room, too numb to fight back against him. While you walked, he explained himself to you, his tone holding barely-contained excitement in every syllable. It made you nauseous.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time you know… you barely even noticed me, despite all of our classes together. I signed up for every single one of your classes, even though our majors were different. But did you ever try to keep our conversations going? Or reach back out to me like I did to you? No, not even once.”

His voice grew darker as anger replaced excitement, “So I had your mansion demolished, then spread those rumors about your family. I mean, I know you already knew about the rumors, you’re not stupid after all…”

He… he did this? It wasn’t the storm after all?

“But when I saw your devastated expression I… I realized I didn’t do that for revenge. I didn’t like seeing your suffering as much as I thought I did. I wasn’t over you, and I’m still not. I devised a plan to finally bring you back to me, but you remained so stubborn.”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then relaxed, “But you’re here now, and that’s all that mattered. Yamaguchi Tadashi is my best friend, I made sure he knew about my plan and he was more than willing to help. I hid him in Brazil and placed guards around him and his house, just in case. They were ordered not to kill or badly hurt you.”

So that’s why they didn’t do anything to me except kick me out… and they really did know I was coming…

“I had people all over give you false tips to lead you astray. Plane trips to other countries can take a long time, can’t they?”

It was your turn to grit your teeth, but you sure as hell weren’t relaxing afterwards.

“You weren’t actually supposed to go to Brazil, but my spies made sure to alert Yamaguchi before you found him, so he wouldn’t be surprised when you showed up. He told me you came right up to him and asked if he’d seen himself! He lied straight through his teeth, obviously. That picture I gave you, by the way, is a random stock photo. I was honestly surprised you didn’t Google him or anything, but it worked out for me. You didn’t recognize him at all.”

He led you into what appeared to be his bedroom, judging by the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

“Now, my sweet (Y/n), get on your knees.”

You knew what was going to happen to you at this point. If his big supervillain-esque reveal wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the lust clouding his eyes sealed the deal.

There was no point in fighting him, so you dropped to your knees. Tsukishima eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants, tugging out his hardened cock. It was long and veiny with a flushed tip. It wasn’t very thick, but its length made up for its girth.

“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?”

The legally-binding contract, Tsukishima’s influence, and your family’s safety- you had no other choice. Your hand reached out and your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your lips wrapping around the rounded tip.

Tsukishima let out a pleasured sigh above you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Humiliated, you forced yourself to take him into your mouth, gagging when his hips moved forward and the tip hit the back of your throat.

He hissed out praises while you reluctantly sucked his dick, nausea stirring in your stomach at the taste of his salty precum on your tongue. Finally, he gently pushed your head away, and you risked a look up at his face.

The once-composed, proper-looking stoic man looked like an absolute mess. His glasses were slightly askew and his face was bright red. He was panting- ragged loud breaths that blew across your face in uneven waves of air.

A shudder rolled through him and one of his trembling hands pointed at the large bed. “Strip and lay on your back.”

As you fumbled with your clothes, hot tears rolling down your face, his eager words assaulted your ears from behind you as he rambled on about you both, “You don’t need your old family, we’ll start our own! I need to continue the Tsukishima family line, and you’re good with your little brothers, so you’ll be great with our child! And we’re finally going to make love… oh God, (Y/n), I’ve been waiting years for this.”

You didn’t want to have a child with him. You didn’t want to be raped. You didn’t want this twisted infatuation he had for you, but...

You had no other choice.

Looks like Devil’s food cake made it onto Chef Saltbaker’s menu today. 😈

Okay but have you ever considered Yandere Hawks going into rut and kidnapping his poor, overworked secretary, taking them home to his lovely nest, and breeding them. I mean, come on, it's spring. If they didn't want to be Keigo's breeding bitch then why did they stick around for so long? 🤔 None of the other secretaries cared enough to last this long. Clearly their still at his agency because they L O V E him~ 😏 Won't they just be so pleased to carry his hatchlings and be his pretty mate? 🥵🙏

Warnings: Noncon, oviposition, forced breeding, forced orgasms, mating rut, kidnapping, drugging, yandere Note: Sorry this took so long to fill, but uhhh...I went crazy with it and this is a 1.2k monster of a mini fic. 😂

When you wake up, it takes you several seconds to realize exactly what happened. You were working overtime as per usual when your boss Hawks came in. His pupils were full blown, sweat dripping from his body like he had just run miles, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

You didn’t realize the danger until it was too late and he had you in his arms, pressing a sweet smelling cloth to your mouth and holding you until you passed out. And now, you’re tied to a bed naked, legs spread wide as an even more feral looking Hawks stares at you with hunger in his eyes.

“My pretty little bird,” he whispers as he climbs into bed with you. “You’re finally awake. I didn’t want to do this while you were unconscious, that makes it no fun at all for either of us.”

“Hawks, what is the meaning of this?” You try to sound calm, rational to try and talk some sense into him. “You need to let me go.”

“Why would I do that?” He slips up your body, slotting himself in between your thighs and grinding the bulge in the front of his pants against you. The rough fabric of his jeans pushes against your clit, and you let out a soft gasp. “See? You want this.”

“Whatever this is, no I don’t want it!” You snap at him, but instead of looking angry, the corners of his lips turns up into a smile.

“Of course you do, pretty bird. It’s breeding season for me, and you stayed around like a good little bird. You wanted to be bred by me, filled up with my hatchlings until you’re big and round.”

Your eyes widen in horror. “What - no, I don’t -”

You had heard rumors of Hawks, speculation on just how bird-like the number two hero truly was. But you had no idea of this, not even an inkling. “Your breeding season?” You ask hesitantly.”

“I’m in a rut.” And then he’s unzipping his pants, pulling them off and revealing a truly large, impressive cock that’s already rock hard. “And I can’t wait, my baby bird. I need to be inside of you, need to breed you until you can’t handle any more of my eggs.”

“Eggs? No no no, Hawks, please think about this - “

But he doesn’t answer, sheathing himself inside of your unprepared pussy in one firm snap of his hips. You whine at the painful stretch of your tight muscles around his length, and tears form at the corner of your eyes that he promptly kisses away.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’ll feel good in no time,” he coos at you as he begins to thrust. “Fuck, you’re so tight - you were saving yourself just for me, weren’t you? Of course you were.”

You begin to argue, but then you feel something at the entrance of your pussy, trying to force its way in. He said eggs, you remind yourself with dawning horror, that must be an egg -

“Hawks please, please think about this! I don’t want this!”

“Yes you do, little bird,” he grunts out, as he begins to make sharp, shallow thrusts into you as the egg forces your pussy to stretch even further. “You wouldn’t have stayed if you didn’t want this.”

You scream as the egg enters you and he fucks it up into your pussy with more sharp thrusts. You feel it press against your g-spot, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum hard around it. 

“See? I knew it, you fucking wanted this. You cumming around my eggs is so fucking hot, baby bird,” he groans out as he fucks the egg up into you. He reaches the barrier of your cervix, pausing for one second as he reassures you. 

“This will hurt at first,” he admits, “but then it’ll feel good. And it will all be worth it when we have our precious hatchlings.” And then he gives one massive thrust as he forces your cervix open.

The blinding pain takes your breath away, the feeling of the egg pushing past into your womb agonizing. You feel a pop as your cervix gives way, and then the egg is filling up your once empty womb. Suddenly your body is on fire, pussy gushing liquid around his cock as more eggs push inside of you easily now that you’re more stretched open.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you mindlessly babble as the eggs move along your walls, pressing hard against them and causing more orgasms to wrack your body. “Oh fuck, Hawks, oh god, it feels so good - I can’t - “

“Keigo,” he corrects you, “call me Keigo, my beautiful mate, the mother of my children.” He presses against your stomach, rolling the egg around in your tummy and causing you to scream from the sheer pleasure.

More eggs plop into your womb along with the other, and your belly begins to swell and stretch and you’re only able to lay there limply as your body is wracked with more orgasms. “Please, no more,” you whimper pathetically, Keigo, it’s too much - ‘

“Shh, this is the last one, I promise,” he whispers to you, forcing one more egg through your wide open cervix. You glance down at your belly, shocked to see that you look 9 months pregnant already. You can see the outline of the eggs, and you marvel at it for a second before you reach down to touch one.

You give a broken moan as you feel the eggs inside of you, realizing that maybe he was right - isn’t this what you were made for? To be bred and full of eggs? It’s not so bad, you think, and in fact it feels amazing. How were you able to live, being so empty before?

“I knew it,” he smiles happily, “you realize this is what you were meant for.” He begins to thrust again, several sharp movements before he’s cumming against your cervix, shooting hot ropes of cum directly into your womb to fertilize the eggs.

He lifts your hips up, keeping his cock snugly inside of you until your cervix closes again, ensuring that no eggs slip out and all of his cum stays inside of you.

He picks you up gently, placing you in a large ring of pillows and blankets before tucking you in. “This is your nest, little bird. You’ll stay here until the eggs are ready to hatch, okay? Don’t strain yourself, you’re so delicate right now.”

You wouldn’t be able to move much even if you wanted to, you realize. Your belly feels so heavy and full, and you’re unbelievably sleepy. But before you pass out, you hear your mate distantly say something.

“We’re going to be such a happy family, baby bird.”

And now, the weather... *megalovania*

Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads. 

He doesn’t even need an alarm now. 

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper. 

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still. 

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them. 

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient. 

I should stop. 

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you. 

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him. 

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief. 

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly. 

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all. 

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you. 

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate. 

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning. 

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today. 

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin. 

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body. 

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago. 

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down. 

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always. 

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good. 

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off. 

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer. 

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results. 

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off. 

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?” 

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately. 

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning. 

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms... 

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you! 

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy. 

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway. 

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.  

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared. 

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university. 

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right. 

But he only wanted you. 

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish. 

Fine then. 

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month. 

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause. 

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you. 

Obviously none were taken by him! 

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries. 

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum. 

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities. 

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done. 

He wants to finish with you so bad. 

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters. 

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price. 

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough. 

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!” 

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs. 

“Fuck!” 

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop. 

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going. 

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you. 

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours. 

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know. 

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him. 

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent. 

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you. 

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon. 

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a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

lover

౨ৎ ⋆˚ untamed ft. wrio & neuvilette + afab!reader. mild spoilers i think? not proofread! just ignore the errors pls <3 character study in the form of shameless smut yes <3

💌 wrio: overstimming + creampie + he calls you angel + unprotected.

wriothesley, in his young age, seems to have accumulated all the good things befitting that of a gentleman. having the title of a duke and handling the affairs in the fortress of meropide as its lord being some of his outstanding qualities. he possesses a strict sense of character; responsible to boot, and unyielding in the face of any dilemma.

so you must trust him, really, when he says that he hasn’t foreseen this altered character— not at all. it’s not like him to free his inhibitions just to fuck you with utter abandon inside his office, grunting while hugging the back of your legs against his chest, your pretty pussy gaping at the sheer girth rammed inside your creamy hole. he wants to stop— to let you catch a sliver of rest but your cunt feels so good around his cock that it literally brings pain in his chest to put a halt on this pleasure. he cannot stop fucking you, cannot stop plugging your pussy with his flushed cocktip and ever-growing cock. globules of cum, heavy and hefty in amount, starts squirting out of his pulsing cocktip, yet through the sting and the ache that his ejalucation causes, his hips would not yield. one more, angel, i promise— he merely grunts the words, forehead bedewed in sweat, knowing damn well that even he cannot channel his so-called restraint when it comes to fucking you brainless on his office table. </3

💌 neuvilette: overstimming + creampie + undertones of mindbreak + unprotected + big cock.

if neuvilette has learned something from the recent days’ events beyond the straightforward and judicial air in fontaine, he grants the credit to humans and their ceaseless abilities to fascinate. however, whatever transpired recently have only bolstered his curiosity about mortals and their nature. in truth, you have been the one open his eyes to humanity’s boundless surprises and complexity.

he has been pumping his cock in and out of your fucked out pussy since the moon made its first appearance. your brain is soaked, like the bedsheets sticking to your glistening body. and yet your back remains arch so pretty for him, the rim of your cunt has already formed in the size of his girth, pulsing as if begging to be abused more. neuvilette owns a higher endurance than that of a human; he has fucked you in multiple positions, has plugged his sheer size, healthy veins and all, up your pretty pussy to the base, but his appetite still cannot be sated. perhaps his nature is to blame for such a rash display of character tonight, but truly, he does not have it in him to halt. sure, you’ve told him to slow down countless of times, and he has obliged despite the physical ache it has brought in his person, but he finds it enthralling how every time he drags his cock slowly in and out of your warm and wet and slabbering pussy, you cry and mewl and beg him to fuck you faster instead. this tips him to the edge. grabbing your flesh as leverage for his shredding control, he humps your ass with force that shakes the bed and brings tears to your eyes. right there and then, he fills you with cum which potency and thickness cannot be compared to any human— it’s unstoppable, from huge and plump balls to the cocktip that kisses your womb for giving him this mind-shattering release.

So Far (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Title: So Far

Synopsis: Follow up to “So Close.” Hawks realizes that in order to build you up as the perfect partner, you’ve got to be broken down first.

Word Count: 2163

Notes: yandere, choking, violence, food deprivation, malnourishment 

You wish you could stand up and properly stretch. But the unassuming crawl space that Keigo unceremoniously pushed you into after bringing you “home” was too small for that. The ceiling was low, and 

You pull your knees up against your chest and wince at the pain in your thighs and legs. The floor was concrete, and the drop had hurt–enough to bruise, at least, but the dim lighting from a single, small window didn’t really provide an opportunity for you to check.

You flinch when you hear the half-sized door open, and not a moment later does Keigo enter, ducking his head  to avoid hitting the ceiling. He has a tray with him, which he sets down in front of you. A glass of water and leftovers from the other night, still streaming from the microwave.

Your stomach seems to growl on cue, but you fight the urge to reach for the food and instead stay still. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of feeding you right now.

Keigo sighs, as if sensing your defiance, and crouches down until he’s sitting on his heels. He stares at you. You stare back, hoping your gaze looks braver than you feel.

“This is my fault,” he says, finally. Low and sad, you can see his lips curling downward in a frown. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

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