Wow~

I'm sure Luka has a whole bunch of bracelets. He lives for the moments when you steal it. There is nothing sweeter for him when you accidentally choose an unregulated bracelet and then struggle all day trying to keep the thing on your little wrist.

He also loves to receive bracelets as a gift from you. A special place in his heart is occupied by those things that are made by your hands. Braided, from beaded, bright colors? He loves it all the same. He does not hesitate to wear this on his hands along with his other bracelets. And if he needs to take everything off his hands, be sure that one of the gifts remains in his pocket.

Second chance

Please do not read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere! Luka Couffaine x Reader

tw: disturbing thoughts, noncon touching, noncon kissing.

Viperion strides forward, slowly approaching you. You look around in fright. There is nowhere else to retreat. He drove you to a dead end. There is no further escape from this alley. You will not be able to pass by the hero - not enough space. You lean your back against the wall.

"You don't need to be afraid of me. I will never hurt you," the guy says softly.

He has a nice voice, but it doesn't help you get rid of the stress in any way. You are too scared by his previous actions. Where is Ladybug when you need her so badly? They finished with Akuma. Shouldn't she come to pick up his Miraculous?

"What do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to touch."

Viperion speaks as if nothing strange is happening. He reaches out and gently strokes your face. You flinch. He's a hero. So why is he so creepy? The guy leans even closer, gently touches your face with his lips. Kisses are as light as a butterfly.

"Please don't." Your voice breaks. You sob. Tears begin to flow from your eyes.

"I know. I'm so sorry. Sorry." Viperion showered you with a mixture of kisses and apologies.

This apology is not sincere. You don’t understand what he’s apologizing for if he’s not sorry. If he doesn't stop. Your legs give way, but you don't fall. Strong hands are holding you. His body supports yours. Too close. Hot. You don't immediately realize that he is saying something again.

"You have no idea how difficult it is to control yourself. When I see you ... I want to do so many things."

Under the mask, Luka barely finds coherent thoughts to justify himself. Conversations are not his forte. It's much easier to express feelings through music. Or through actions like now. He's ashamed, but he doesn't want to stop. Along with the Viperion, something awoke in him. Something vile and disgusting. It, together with boundless love and care, fills the insides, reaches the edges, spills out.

"Let me do it honey. I promise you won't remember."

The hero intercepts your hand before you can hit him. His lips finally touch yours. Luka's world explodes into a completely new unknown melody. No other instrument in the universe is capable of producing such a delightful sound. Viperion has a hard time pulling away from you. You are absolutely stunned.

"I love you, my melody."

He looks at your face for the last time and reaches for the Miraculouse. There are a couple of minutes left. Just enough to deal with the villain.

"Second chance."

Viperion uses the ability. Now instead of you, there is a tense Ladybugin front of him. He is grateful to her. She entrusted him with the Miraculouse. While Viperion voices his partners the previously worked out plan once again, Luka fights with a sense of shame. He is not worthy. They shouldn't have relied on him. He let the Ladybug down and used the Miraculouse for personal gain. Then he remembers you again and the shame disappears. Time returned back. There is no need for him to be ashamed of something that actually did not exist.

This time, Luka will give up the Miraculouse after winning. But he will look forward to next time.

I need a yandere miraculous ladybug x reader like air. Please somebody.

Extra points for yandere Luka ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴

This work lay in drafts for a very long time. Now I have translated everything. Woohoo! (Reminder: English is not my native language. There are mistakes here)

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere! Pairing: Yandere! Ketheric Thorm x Reader, Yandere! Enver Gortash x Reader, Yandere! Orin the Red x Reader tw: platonic obsession, manipulation, restriction of freedom, mention of murders

I'm ready to throw an idea at you. Attention. You get into the bg3. BUT you aren't Tav and you aren't together with Tav. You find yourself among the Chosen Three. And they become platonic yandere!

Ketheric Thorm, Enver Gortash and Orin the Red will know that you know about their future. You know how to achieve certain events, as well as how to prevent it. Keeping you close is not only a necessary measure, but also an advantage. From now on, they must do everything to prevent Tav from finding out about you and taking you away.

You spend the least amount of time with Ketheric Thorm. As the leader of the army, he is always in the most dangerous places of the war. Besides, the Moonrise Towers are a dangerous place. There are a lot of killers there. You are usually in full view of Ketheric. Over time, you begin to get used to it. Ketheric listens, but often doesn't pay attention. You can tell him anything. At this time he goes about his business, sometimes nodding to you. But if you suddenly ask him a question, he will simply look at you menacingly, making you afraid. The old man is not angry. He just didn't remember anything you said and doesn't want to admit it. Your voice helps him not to worry. If you're still talking, it means you haven't been eaten. Therefore, he can continue his business. When you leave the Moonrise Towers, Ketheric looks with bitterness at the things you leave behind. It reminds him of the times when he was still a father. Perhaps he will put your drawing or note in one of his books.

Orin will become friend or foe depending on your decision. If you refuse to help them, She will find ways to make you talk. Her ideas about the world are very perverted, so friendship with Orin barely differs from enmity. She will take great pleasure in fooling around with you. She likes to scare you by telling you colorful ways of killing you. You will probably not be able to make friends because of her. It's hard to trust someone and tell your secrets when that someone could be Orin herself. She will need time to convince Gortash and Ketheric to allow you to visit the Bhaal’s Temple. They don't trust Orin. The more disgusted you are by the atmosphere of her temple, the more fun she will experience. In the depths of his bedroom, Orin will get a little soft. She will let you play with her hair. And she will talk about the teachings of Bhaal, but not with the intention of scaring, but with the desire to share something hidden for her. She will also want to teach you how to make a sacrifice to her god correctly. If you refuse, she will be upset, but will not insist. (Gortash made it clear to her that she should not break you.) Then she brings you back and avoids you for a week or two. It's new for her to feel this way. Not even her family received this honor. When she calms down and copes with unusual emotions, she will visit you again. And she will promise to kill you in the most beautiful way possible when necessary. It's not a threat. This is her expression of love.

It is with Lord Gortash that you spend the most time. His castle is safe, and the Steel Watchers walk around the city everywhere. You are well dressed and always look great to match him. High society is asking questions about who you are to him. Are you a lover, relative, decoration or pet? Only you and Gortash know that you are a means to achieve his goals. And only Lord Gortash knows that you are someone he has grown more attached to than he should have. He gives you almost anything you want, but expects you to cooperate in return. In addition, Gortash believes that just looking beautiful next to him is not enough. Therefore, all your free time (which is not much) will be occupied with training. If you escape from the castle (which is absolutely impossible), the guards will bring you back. Gortash is perhaps the only one among the owners of three stones who understands that your usefulness is not constant. Everything can go along the route you know with minor changes in his favor. Or it may happen that what is happening will become completely new even for you. Sometimes he jokes that he will throw you out when you become useless. But you still remember how Lord Gortash got angry at the impudent Count for asking to take you as his wife and Gortash ordered the insolent man to be executed.

----

Somewhere in the universe, the Emperor turns the table in a rage and demands Tav to quickly find and save (kidnap) you. (I don't know how he found out about you ._.)

----

Tav sighs tiredly and silently agrees. They're too tired of all. They just hope that their new future ally will be a little less problematic than everyone else in the camp.

Caretaker (Yandere! Nanami Kento x Reader)

You suffer a mental episode relapse after months of battling stress and you're too far from your family for them to help nurse you back to health. Luckily, your roommate has volunteered to assist you.

Warnings: dubcon/sexual coercion (fingering, short description of piv sex), mental disorders, slight infantilization, manipulation, forced isolation, controlling behaviours, gaslighting, reader is mentally unstable and nanami is making it worse, dead dove do not eat

You never thought it would’ve gotten this bad again. You thought that it had finally become manageable, that it was dormant enough for you to be able to live on your own again.

But you underestimated it, forgot how terrible it could get once it emerged. Not wanting to face the reality of it returning, you ignored the signs and symptoms in hopes that you wouldn’t have to put your half-baked plans to mitigate it to action. But distracting yourself with gallery deadlines and pretending that everything is fine could only do so much, and it only took one rejection email for everything to bubble up and burst through your chest, and for you to end up on the kitchen floor of your flat, knife dangerously close to your flesh, crying hysterically as Kento, your roommate, lurched towards you with terror in his eyes.

It was because of him that you weren’t dead. It was also because of him that you were now clad in a medical gown and grippy socks, laying against the rigid hospital bed, waiting for the doctor to come in and tell you that after 5 grueling days of tests and meds and various therapies, you can finally go home. When the doctor did finally emerge, Kento was at her side. The sight of him was no longer surprising, with him visiting you every day of your stay and playing advocate in place of your mother, who couldn’t make the trip into this side of the country due to her injured back.

“Came to listen in on my sentencing, Kento?” you greeted him. A tiny grin formed on his usually stoic face.

“A joke. You really are improving.” he responded. You smiled in response.

“Good news,” the doctor called your name. “Our test results do not indicate any need for further inpatient treatment. You’re free to leave. However, it’s heavily advised that you take your prescribed medication for the next 6 weeks for stabilization. It might be a bit tough for you to do it routinely, but you’re very lucky to have such a dedicated and loving partner here to aid you in your recovery.” she smiled.  

Partner? You blushed in embarrassment at the mistake, but it was understandable that she would’ve come to that conclusion. It’s not exactly common for a simple roommate to go as far as he has in terms of checking up with you, and while you were far from ungrateful for his efforts, you did find it a bit odd. It didn’t help that he made no attempt to correct the doctor, opting to carry on the conversation with a stoic expression.

“Yes, Doctor. There’s no need to worry. I’ve followed your guidelines and made the necessary preparations.” He glanced at you, eyes softening.

“There’s nothing I won’t do to ensure that you recover properly.”

The car ride home was silent, awkwardly so. Kento made no effort to explain his behaviour at the hospital to you, and you felt it wouldn’t be in good taste to start questioning the man who saved your life as soon as you got discharged. You eventually gave up on mulling over it once your apartment building came into view, the prospect of a nice home cooked meal and the comfort of your own bed flooding your mind with relief.

Kento set your bags down near your bedroom door as you took a deep breath to let the comforting smell of your own space wash over you. The comfort didn’t last too long though, because when your eyes followed him moving towards the kitchen, feelings of guilt and embarrassment poked at your chest.

“Kento,” you started, looking down at your feet. “I’m really sorry that-”

“Are you hungry?” he cut you off, tying one of your aprons around his waist. “I’ll make you something. You should get some rest in the meantime. I’m sure you missed your bed.”

“Listen to me Kento,” you pushed. “I just want to-”

“If you want to apologise to me over something you had little control over, you’re wasting your time. I won’t accept it.” He stated.“I’m just glad that you’re safe. Now, go rest.” 

When you finally woke up from your blissful nap, the sun had already set. As you stretched lazily, your eyes caught on to the changes that were made to your room that your prior tiredness prevented you from seeing before, the most notable change being the absence of some very important items.

“Hey, Ken,” you approached him at the table. “Where’s my laptop?”

“The doctor ordered that you stay away from the internet and work until the mood stabilizers settle you.” he replied nonchalantly as he continued to set the table. You scoff.

“No work, either? Is that why I can’t find my art supplies too?” you folded your arms.

“Exactly. You can’t use your phone either.” He pulled out one of the chairs, gesturing for you to sit.

“How am I supposed to talk to my mom, then? What exactly am I supposed to do in general?” you asked, sounding a bit more incensed than you hoped. Kento remained impassive, giving you a quick glance before returning his focus on plating the food.

“There’s no need to worry, I planned for all of this. You can use my phone to call your mother. I've been keeping in contact with her ever since your admission and I’ve promised to keep her updated. As for keeping you occupied, I’ve followed the guidelines that the doctor provided and organized some activities that you can do in the meantime. I know how much you crave creative expression, so I took extra measures to ensure that you can still freely do so. You’ll start tomorrow. I’ll also be working remotely from now on, so you can always come to me if you’d like to talk.”

You figured that you should be feeling grateful that he meticulously planned out everything for you, but all you felt was a familiar unease. Prior to all of this, the best and only way you could describe your relationship with Kento was that he was the perfect roommate; quiet, considerate, responsible, reserved. Despite living with him and being on a first-name basis with him, you knew little about his personal life and most of your conversations had never been more than polite banter, yet it was clear that all this time, he’s been observing you. Still, he was the only person who was available to help you, so you swallowed any remaining anxieties in favour of believing his intentions are pure.

 “Let’s eat.” He cut through the silence.

As you looked down to pick up your utensils, you noticed what could only be another one of his preparations.

“A baby spoon and plate to eat oyakadon?” you looked at him, exasperated. His mouth twitched slightly. “I can’t trust you with anything too sharp right now. You understand, right?”

You sighed. It was going to be a long six weeks.

The rest of the night was uneventful. You took a shower, brushed your teeth, and decided not to acknowledge Kento standing outside your bathroom door the entire time. He watched you as you took your medication, making sure that you took every pill correctly. When you climbed into bed, he took a seat at your desk chair, saying that he just wanted to stay with you until you fell asleep. You were too tired to protest. 

When you woke up in the morning, the world felt hazy, your body heavy. Side effects of the medication that would wear off in a few hours was what Kento told you when you made your way to the table for breakfast.  Keeping true to his word, after you finished eating he let you call your mom, and you spent half of the phone call listening to her gush about how thoughtful of a man he was, how he called her everyday to soothe her worries about you, and that you were lucky to have him around while she couldn’t be there. The last part sounded as if she believed you two were a couple, but you didn’t have the energy or the heart to explain to her that Kento was just being a really thorough and kind guy. You doubt she’d believe you anyway. You barely believe it yourself.

When the grogginess started to clear up later in the morning, he introduced you to one of the activities that was supposed to help ‘satisfy your need for creative expression’; an assortment of colouring books, each one clearly designed for children under the age of six. Before you could open your mouth, Kento began to explain.

“Colouring is considered a very relaxing and stress-free activity. Your doctor suggested that completing a few pages a day should help you recover properly.”

“I get that part, and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, it’s just… I think I’d enjoy colouring in things that are a little more complicated than cartoon princesses and giant numbers, Ken.” you reply.  He offered you a sympathetic smile.

“I understand that this is below your caliber but it’s only temporary. I suggest you give it a try.”

You sighed in response, reaching for the crayons. Kento’s face briefly softened before he turned his attention to his laptop. The two of you stayed in the living room like this for the rest of the morning, working mostly in silence, occasionally breaking it to make small talk about Kento’s work or your colouring progress. 

As soon as noon arrived, you were given lunch, another preparation made by him. When you were done eating, you spent the rest of your afternoon doing crosswords and sudoku puzzles, or “brainteaser activities” as Kento called them. You were given a short break to follow the doctor’s recommended stretching routine, and then the two of you ate dinner while watching some lighthearted television. The rest of the night followed the same pattern as the one before; you cleaned up, took your meds in front of him, and fell asleep with him watching you. 

Soon, this routine became the norm, with very little variation. But if it was helping you get better, you couldn’t tell. It was becoming more apparent that the side effects of the medication were starting to last longer, with the initial morning haziness now bleeding into the afternoons, and the monotony and simplicity of the activities given to you only amplified the feelings of dullness that permeated through your skull. Still, feeling numb was miles better than feeling suicidal, and Kento didn’t seem to have any concerns about your quieter demeanor, so you figured it would be best to simply rally through it.

Until you nearly cracked your skull open on the bathroom sink.

You barely even remembered it. You got up in the middle of the night with the intense urge to pee, which was rare these days thanks to your meds usually knocking you out until morning. You remember stumbling down the hallway and then waking up in Kento’s strong arms, your head pounding and his eyes bulging out as he shakily called your name, just as he did on the night of your breakdown.

The following morning, you were still laying in bed as Kento sat near the edge of it, his calloused fingers rubbing circles absentmindedly on your calf as he relayed to you the doctor’s new instructions. If it wasn’t for the constant throbbing in your head, you might’ve had the mental energy to feel confused about the intimacy of his touch, but right now it was taking all of your power to focus on what was being said.

“- so that’s why you’ll no longer take the antidepressant until your next ward review. You may experience some irritability and insomnia until then, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with some additions to the routine.” You nodded in acknowledgment, your eyelids heavy. You wanted him to stop talking so you could sleep off the pain.

“Furthermore, until your next appointment, I will be accompanying you to all your trips to the bathroom.”  Your eyes shot open. You were wide awake now.

“Kento,” you mustered your strength. “I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied nonchalantly. “Just call for me whenever you need to- “

“No, I mean I won’t let you do that. It’s too weird.” you asserted.

“There’s no reason to feel ashamed, there are many people who need assistance for things like this.” he responded, his tone still neutral.

“Well I’m not one of them! I’m not that sick!” you raised your voice.

“You nearly split open your forehead trying to use the bathroom.I think it’s reasonable to-”

“You’re not gonna watch me piss and that’s final. I’ve let you take the reins these past few weeks and I’ll be glad to let you continue but not on this. No.”

You were expecting some sort of retaliation, another lecture about the importance of a buddy system for toilet time perhaps, but Kento simply sighed, stood up and wordlessly made his way to the door.

You were unsure if to take his silence as a sign that you won, but at this point your head was pulsating too much to ponder about it.

When you woke up, you found yourself needing to use the bathroom again. Thankfully this time you were able to control your body more properly and you managed to make it down the hallway to the bathroom door without any stumbling. But when you turned the handle, it didn’t move.

“It’s locked.” 

You turned your head to see Kento sitting on the recliner in the living room, pretending to be engrossed in the book on his lap. When you caught sight of the bathroom key dangling in his hand, you couldn’t help but flare your nostrils.

“Do you think this is funny? Unlock the door.” you spat.

“I don’t think you potentially hurting yourself because of your pride is funny, no.” he responded nonchalantly.

“Did you not see me walk down the hall without a scratch? I’m fine!” you barked, trying to ignore the pressure building in your pelvis. 

“Your tone is becoming rather hostile,” he replied. “It’s a bit concerning.”

The pressure was growing stronger, fueling your panic. “Kento, please. This is insane, if you don’t open this door I’ll, I’ll-”

He sighed, rising from his seat to walk towards you.

‘If you don’t want to wet yourself, I could offer you some adult diapers. I had them prepared in case your medication caused any incontinence.” Your mouth fell open at the suggestion. He cut you off before you could protest.

“Or,if you find that to be too inconvenient, we can go back to the original proposed arrangement. It’s your call.” he gave the key a light twirl.  For the first time since you’ve known him, you wanted to cuss him out, to scratch those hazel eyes that were currently looking down at you as if you were some miserable child. But the fear of being humiliated even further cancelled out your indignation.

“Fine! Fine!” you trembled, squeezing your thighs together. “You can come in, just please unlock-”

Before you finished your sentence, Kento had placed the key in the handle and turned it. You were on the toilet before he cracked the door fully open. True to his word, he stood near the sink, waiting for you. Your face burned.

“I apologise for my harshness.” he murmured as you washed your hands.  “I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt again.” 

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kept your gaze to your feet as you hurried to your room before he could revoke your right to cry in private too.

The days following the incident were torturous. You knew now that Kento was capable of cruelty, and that put you on edge. The air felt thick and heavy whenever the two of you were in the same room, but if Kento was aware of the tension, he was doing an excellent job of not showing it. His perpetually composed demeanor left you unnerved and unable to decipher his true intentions, a far cry from the days where it used to soothe you, back when you believed he was just being kind, if not a little neurotic. It was because of this shift in your perception of him that you continued to diligently follow this ridiculous routine despite how frustrated and angry it made you. You could no longer safely predict how he’d react if you did otherwise. 

But the routine was suffocating and Kento was suffocating. He bled into every inch of your existence, he was the first voice you’d hear in the morning, and the last thing you’d see at night. He followed you wherever you went, he’d supervise your calls with your mother, he had a front row seat to your bathroom breaks and even though he swears that he doesn’t look when you have to strip yourself to shower, you’ve felt his eyes linger on your back.

And you were tired. Tired of playing along to avoid any possible repercussions, tired of pretending that his care and activities were doing something to help you, and tired of these fucking insulting colouring books.

“Kento,” you called to him calmly from the dining table, crayon still in hand. “I’ve finished all of the colouring books you’ve given me. May I have my sketchbook and drawing pencils back? I’m ready to start drawing again.”

He glanced at you from his place on the couch. “I can’t. The doctor’s guidelines state that I am to give you activities that will not cause any stress.” You felt your eye twitch. 

“I think I can handle some doodling, Kento.” you responded, fists clenched. 

“I’m sorry but you don’t know what you can handle, not in your current state. I won’t-”

“When are you going to stop treating me like a fragile flower?” you were barely hanging on to your composure.

“When you no longer are in a fragile state.”

“I’m not fragile, you’re just being a condescending prick.” you spat, composure slipped.

“What I’m doing,” he replied, annoyance dripping through his voice. “is trying to help you heal. Now please-”

Something in your chest snapped. Before you knew it, you had thrown your crayons directly at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. 

“You’re not helping me! You’re making me miserable! Just give me my fucking shit you fucking- you fucking-” the pounding in your ears and heat coursing through your chest made it difficult to remain coherent.

Kento just stood there, collected as usual, staring into your wild, bloodshot eyes as you continued to breathe shakily, as if he was assessing your existence. After 20 seconds of his scrutinizing stare, he completed his assessment.

“The medication must be making you irritable as the doctor said. Your poor sleep may also be a factor. Let’s see about taking a nap, that may calm you.” he strode towards you.

“I’m not a cranky toddler you piece of-” you didn’t get to finish your statement before he swiftly wrapped his arms around your torso and lifted you, his grip tight enough to squeeze the air out of your lungs. Before you could look up at him, he moved one of hands to the back of your head and pushed it to his chest, forcing you to inhale the crisp scent of his shirt as he headed down the hallway, shushing your muffled protests. You heard the sound of keys turning a lock and a door opening before he released you by tossing you onto what seemed to be a mattress on the floor.

This wasn’t your room. This was supposed to be the office space that the two of you agreed to share, but instead of a small desk and chair in the corner and some easels near the window, the room was bare save for a standing lamp that was securely strapped to the floor, a large stuffed animal in the corner, the mattress that you were landed on, which was covered in frilly bed sheets and the addition of burglar proof grates on the window. You heard a click, and turned to see that Kento had left, closing the door that now only locked from the outside.

“I apologise for how bare-bones it is, I didn’t have enough time to finish it.” He spoke from behind the door. “I was honestly hoping that we wouldn’t have to use a safe room but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Please try to get some rest. I’ll come back for you once you’ve calmed down.”

Rest was the last thing on your mind, not when your roommate basically placed you in a makeshift padded cell. You kicked, you banged and you screamed as many threats as you could to try.to get him to open the door, only to be met with silence on the other side of it. Eventually, your kicks and threats were reduced to weak knocks and pleas. When you saw the setting sun through the caged window, panic began to spread through your chest. It had been hours and Kento refused to even acknowledge your existence, and you had no idea how long he planned to keep you trapped in there. As time continued to pass slowly,there was little else to do aside from curl yourself up on the floor and wonder how things got so bad. Were you actually in the wrong about this? Was this actually your fault? Kento was just trying to help you, even if he was being a bit controlling about it. And you screamed in his face and threw things at him like a bratty child and he still didn’t get mad at you. He never gets mad, you’re the mad one. That’s why he locked you in here, you scared him. You scare everyone. You always scare everyone.

You should’ve never moved out of your mom’s house. You should’ve never felt guilty about the idea of her having to take care of you even in her old age. You should’ve never believed that you could live like a normal person. You’ll never be normal, you’ll never be healed no matter how many pills you take or routines you follow, you should’ve just finished what you were going to do before Kento walked in on you in the kitchen. At least that would’ve been quicker than starving to death in here and-

Click!

Your spiralling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door finally opening. You found yourself at Kento’s feet, clinging to his pajama pants, tears spilling from your face, blubbering helplessly as your pride prevents you from properly apologising to him. You felt a hand rest at the top of your head, and through blurry eyes you looked up to see him looking down at you pitifully.

“It’s okay,” he cooed. “I know you can’t help it.” He helped you to your feet and took your hand to guide you back to your room. You were relieved, you were so incredibly relieved. He didn’t leave you to die, he wasn’t scared of you. He knows you can’t help it. He just wants to help.

You were sitting on your bed, freshly showered and properly fed when he spoke.

“I was going through the doctor’s guidelines on how to resolve your current issue.” he sat near the edge of the bed. “Unfortunately, even though you didn’t hurt me, your actions are considered to be violent.” Your eyes widened slightly. He continued. “It says that if you were to begin displaying violent tendencies, I am to contact the hospital to have you committed again. However, they will have to put you in seclusion, where you’ll be locked in a padded room that smells of filth and unlike me, they won’t hesitate to keep you in there for longer than two days. I don’t think you would want that, would you?”

You gulped. He was right, you didn’t want that. 

“Please,” you rasped. “Is there anything you can do to avoid this?”

“Well, there is one last activity that I haven’t tried that is supposed to help soothe your symptoms. If it can calm your nerves effectively then I can delay having to call the hospital.” he inched closer.

“What is it?” you asked.

“We can add orgasm sessions to your routine.”

You blinked. You couldn’t have possibly heard that correctly.

“Add… what?” 

He inched even closer, snaking a hand up your thigh. You tried not to recoil in disgust.

“It’s proven that orgasms release oxytocin and dopamine, which could help improve your mood and relax you. You could try to do it yourself, but if that’s not possible…” You caught a faint blush spread across his cheekbones, and your heart sank.

“I don’t- I don’t think I want-” you stammered to find the right words to reject this proposal without causing any repercussions. But he took your inability to form a sentence as an invitation to get even closer, shifting himself so that he was now in the center of your bed and you were in his lap, your back pressed against his solid chest.

“It’s okay if you’re a bit nervous,” his voice was gentle above you, eerily so. “I will admit I don’t have much experience but I won’t hurt you.” You felt his hands slip under your shirt, trailing along your sides, causing you to squirm at the contact.

“Kento, please I’m not sure if this is-” your protest is cut off by the feeling of his hands groping your breasts. 

“Shh, don’t think. Just focus on how it feels.” He pressed a kiss into your temple. “I want this to work as much as you do. I don’t want you to leave me again.”

You didn’t have the time to process his words before one of his hands dropped to your core. You shut your thighs closed on instinct, and you heard him tut against your earlobe as he spread them apart again.

“Uh uh, none of that. I’m doing this to help you, remember?” You were trying your hardest to remember, to convince yourself that this was just another activity to help you, but the way he was touching you so eagerly, how you could feel something hard pressing against your lower back, and how he groaned with every open wet kiss he placed on your skin as he sunk his fingers deeper into you made it very difficult.

And despite his self-proclaimed lack of experience, whatever he was doing was working. You eventually found yourself succumbing to his ministrations, your mind unable to do much but swim in the waves of pleasure that flooded your body. When you finally came, it was probably the hardest orgasm you’d ever experienced in your life, your vision burning white as his whispered praises barely registered in your brain. But most importantly, it was over. The way you laid limp and pliant on your bed as Kento moved from underneath you was hopefully enough to convince him that you didn’t need to be committed again. You were waiting to hear the sound of Kento closing the door behind him before you could fully drift into a hopefully dreamless sleep, but it was taking a while for him to leave. It was only when you felt a pair of rough hands pulling apart your legs, you realised that he wasn’t done.

He was now breathing heavily above you, his hair disheveled, his face flushed and his eyes now filled with hunger instead of apathy. Your eyes dropped to his lower half, where he was using one of his hands to hold up your leg while his other hand was occupied with pumping his now exposed leaking cock that was getting dangerously close to your entrance. You felt your heart shatter. 

“Kento, what are you doing?!? I- I thought-”

“It’s okay. I just think you should have one more. Let me take care of it.” he strained, hardly containing himself as he sunk into you.

_

Kento was still asleep in your bed when you woke up. This was your only chance. You slid out of the covers as quietly as you could and made your way down the hall to his bedroom. You would’ve made a break for the door if you didn’t already know that he changed the passcode for it. Instead, you needed to find your phone and get someone else to help you get away from this monster.

 You rummaged through his drawers, his wardrobe and the cabinets in his bathroom before finally finding what you were looking for in his closet. Your phone and laptop were laying neatly on the floor in a ziploc bag. You closed yourself in to hide and with shaky hands, pressed the power button on your phone. You sighed with relief when you saw the familiar boot up screen pop up.

You called your mom. She would be the only person who’d believe you. She’d be able to send someone to collect you, to take you away from this cursed flat and to safety. When you heard her soft voice through the speaker, it took everything to not start bawling in the closet.

“Mom, please listen to me. I don't have much time. I’ll explain everything when I’m out of here but I need you to send someone to get me. Or maybe call the police. I just can’t stay here anymore. It’s Kento, he’s-”

The closet door slid open and you shrieked. Kento grabbed your wrist and yanked you to your feet, grabbing your phone in the process. You could hear your mother’s confused shouts coming from the phone over your own protests as he tossed you onto his bed and straddled you, pressing his full weight onto you. Before you could scream to your mother for help, he swiftly shoved one of his socks that was lying around in your mouth, gagging you. Once he was done silencing you, he turned his attention to your panicked mother.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, I was hoping to avoid something like this happening.” he spoke calmly. “But now you’ve witnessed it for yourself. How much worse she’s getting.” If you weren’t so frazzled, you’d roll your eyes. There was no way your mother would believe that this was some episode-

“Oh my, this is the first time her paranoia has gotten that bad. Have you spoken with the doctors?”

You froze. Why wasn’t she suspicious? Why was she actually listening to him?

“Yes I have.” he lied. “We’re waiting til her review next week. Hopefully, a change in medication might resolve this.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am that she found someone as dedicated and responsible as you, Ken. I was worried that I would have to take care of her alone for the rest of my life. I can rest easy knowing her fiance will be there to care for her.”

You tried your best to tell your mother that this lunatic was not your fiance and that she was being lied to, but all you could manage to make were pathetic, muffled whines. Kento remained nonplussed.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. Your daughter is in good hands.” He ended the call and tossed your phone somewhere on the floor, turning his full attention on you.

“Did you hear that?” he spoke, stroking your cheek. “Your mother just confessed that she was terrified of having to take care of you.” he gently pulled out the gag.  

“That’s not true!” you wheezed, ignoring the burning dryness in your mouth. “She’s just being lied to!”

“And she believed it instantaneously. She didn’t even question why you never told her about our engagement yourself. She was all too happy to relinquish all of her duties to me.” he sounded as if he was disgusted. “I’m sorry, but she thinks of you as a burden. But it’s not just her.” He eased himself off of you and walked back to the closet. He kept talking even as you climbed out of the bed.

“Your friends, your coworkers, our neighbours. Everyone knew what happened to you and yet no one wanted to help you. No one even came to visit.” You ignored him and tried to pull open the door.  He was behind you in an instant, placing one of his hands above you to push it back closed. You hesitantly turned to face him. 

“Is that what you’re so desperate to return to? A world where no one cares about you?” he asked gently.

“I’d rather that than whatever the fuck is this.” you spat.

“Then you really are unwell.”

He swiftly took hold of your wrists, and that’s when you noticed what he was carrying in his arms. It resembled a sweater but its sleeves were way too long. A straitjacket.

You thrashed and kicked as much as you could to get out of his grip, but he was too strong, too overwhelming. You were soon restrained within the jacket, and Kento scooped you up into his arms as if picking up a swaddled baby. With the way you were crying, you might as well have been.

“That night I found you in the kitchen was the scariest night of my entire life.” he spoke softly as he carried you down the hallway. “The only person in the world that makes me feel worthy to feel alive and I nearly lost you because of your own mind, of all things. I was at a loss. I could protect you from other humans or accidents, but how could I protect you from yourself? Even now, I don’t know the answer.”

He opened a door. You were back in the poorly-constructed ‘safe room’ again. Your throat tightened.

“Regardless, I love you, and I want us to work. I want to enjoy your cooking again, I want to hear you laugh at the terrible sitcoms you make me watch. I want you to be perfect again.” He set you down on the mattress, and pressed a kiss to your temple. He made his way back to the door, and despite your desperate pleas, he once again closed it, leaving you trapped.

“And there’s nothing I won’t do to ensure that you’ll recover properly.”

I love the warlock bucky so much~  

End of an Empire

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, dark warlock Bucky, obsessive relationship, non-consensual touching, may get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1756.

Summary: In the world where the everlasting winter has been destroying your country for decades, you are the last ray of hope, an only mage who can summon fire. Before the enemies can attack, you are brought to Voskresna’s capital where Winter Soldier is waiting.

P.S. This was inspired by Grisha trilogy and the trailer to Shadow and Bone I’ve been watching for too many times 🙈🙈🙈 Idk if I’ll be able to make it something more than one-shot, but I’d love to!

__________________

You could almost see the faces of your silent guardians turning blue, their cheeks an unhealthy crimson shade as if they were rubbing the snow into their skin for hours. It was cold inside the coach, but you were alright, still. Apparently, it had something to do with your gift.

Biting your lower lip, you looked at the woman to your right: you could spot the thin layer of ice on her cheekbone, and it scared you. Although you weren’t sure you were capable of doing this, you bared your hands and showed your palms as if you were submitting to her. The woman glanced at you, furrowing her brows, and the man on the other side narrowed his eyes at you, too.

“I can keep you warm.” You said nervously, frozen on your spot. As far as you knew, even Blue and Grey Coats treated you as if you carried the plague.

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Can I request a scenario with yandere Zoe (she is very fantastic girl), where s/o protects her from Chloe? And after that moment Zoe falls in love with s/o

A little reminder. Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

(There are more than 200 of you. Wow ❤️)

Pairing: Yandere!Zoe x Reader

tw: Violence, abuse (not for the reader), non-consensual kissing

Chloe's hostility was no secret to anyone in the class. She liked to make fun of someone. Sometimes she openly humiliated people. Do not count how many people akumatized through her fault.

---

You stood among the crowd in the hallway of the school, looking at the next Chloe's tantrum. With the recent arrival of her sister, scandals have become even more. You ignored the squeals, not even trying to listen to the words. Any minor trifle could become the cause of the hysteria. Your eyes went from one scared and cowering blonde to another. Hatred burned in Chloe's eyes. You rolled your eyes. Why can't she just ignore what she doesn't like? Chloe shifted her position and you instinctively lunged forward, grabbing her hand. The crowd fell silent. The girl almost hit her sister in the face. Under dozens of condemning looks, she shuddered, finally shutting up. Her face turned red to the ears and she pulled her hand out of your grip and hurried away.

-Th… thanks. - Zoe says the first time. Her voice was trembling and her eyes were in tears. She was still frightened, but is grateful to you.

-Yep. - You brush aside her thanks, carefully take her by the elbow and lead her towards the restroom - away from prying eyes.

---

-What's your answer? - the girl glanced lazily around the library. When she didn't hear your answer, she turned around. Your soft sleeping face met her.

From that day on, Zoe couldn't take her eyes off you. Her heart fluttered every time you spoke to her. No one had ever stood up for her so bravely. She greedily clung to any chance to spend time with you.

Zoe quietly calls your name to check if you are sound asleep. You don't react. She looks back. There is no one in the library except you. Zoe leans into your face and quickly steals a short kiss. This is the best day of her life.

Dammon x reader

You work in a shop not far from his forge.

Dammon takes a break every day to look at you with a yearning look.

You don't even realize that someone is watching you while you go about your normal routine.

Dammon greedily remembers every little thing about you.

Every evening, before going to bed, a man scrolls through your image in his head.

Sometimes his brain rewards him. He dreams about you. How you tenderly hug him, seeing him off to work, and kiss him passionately when he returns.

He wakes up lost and excited. Half asleep, he searches for you with his hand, but then remembers.

Dammon is terribly embarrassed.

He cursed himself for never having decided to talk to you.

The next day, his day off. Dammon feels especially brave. He finally decides to visit your store to get to know you.

I havent seen you on my dash in forever! I'm really happy to see you live!

Thanks for following me. I'm fine :3

I have a lot of requests in my inbox, but no time to do them. I also want to write something about bg3 again while the obsession is still fresh. Thanks again for staying with me ❤️

This day was a success because I saw one absolutely beautiful girl

Hi. Request about Stain with the dog does not go out of my head. They are a great yandere team :D

OHHHH MY FUCKING GODDDDDD

Fuck making my day, you've made my entire life 💖💖💖💖