john price knows you have some serious self-esteem issues, he could be a gentleman about it. he could be.
tw. dark, praise kink, manipulation, power imbalance, insecurity, age-gap (implied but like that’s obvious), grooming???
you were just finishing your report, gave him the file you had been working on for hours. standing next to him, you watched him closely, studying his features, mostly trying to read on his face what he was thinking. eyebrows crunched, lips forming a small line, your heart was about to explode. why isn’t he saying any-
“i think you got about everything, good job kid.”
he pats your shoulder, while walking away from you, eyes still on the paper you just handed to him.
you froze, stood there for a good minute trying to regain composure. you didn’t know how to feel about that. was that him calling you kid? did him calling you that make you pause? make you feel weird? you were so confused. yes, you have issues but kid? really? no.. no, must be the praise. he did not make a habit of handing that out so easy. hell, you may even have just done a good job. that must be it.
you’re not that fucked up, are you?
you try not to think too much about it anyway. you knew you had a thing for people acknowledging your worth. it started when your teachers in preschool praised you, you just loved to be seen.
except price understood that well enough, playing into it, saying stuff like it doesn’t— shouldn’t, matter as much in your eyes.
he loves the way it gets to your head, making you all fuzzy, small, shy smile tugging at your lips. he sees the way you straighten up your spine when he says those words, and that’s what he loved.
how could such simple words affect someone so badly?
it began small, of course. it was never obvious to any third party, no one noticed, really. and that’s the point. john is molding you, making you perfect to him, and him only.
he just had to get you used to the praise, to insert himself in your mind. he needed you to need him and his validation. that’s why once you started getting (too) comfortable with his words, he started to withdraw them. how cruel.
it became even worse when he’d change them up, just a bit, but surely just enough to make you spiral.
slowly, those “you did good.”— which were already more sparse, became “that’s good enough.”, turning into “thanks.”, just to end up with nothing, a hum maybe, if he felt generous, or just a nod, most of the time.
it was almost too easy for him. you noticed the change in his attitude immediately, felt him pulling back. he was so cold to you, no more warm praise for your heart to swell.
price was thrilled. he trained so you well, you now thrive on his words only. he could be making you do anything at this point. your eyes lighting up, solely on the hopes of hearing him say something, anything. you will do better, wanting— no, craving, to impress him.
“well, it’s time we have a talk, right kid?” price says as you close the door of his office.
you nod, lips pressing into each other. he stands up, getting to the front of his desk, leaning back with his arms crossed.
fuck they’re so big it’s almost scary—
“hey, look at me, i’m talkin’ to you.” yeah he definitely caught you staring. you lift your head up, eyes so round it was almost comical:
“um.. sorry captain, what were you saying?” you gulp, waiting for an answer.
his staring was making it so hard for you to breathe normally. it looked bad, really bad-
“i feel like you’re distracted these days, is there anything that needs to be brought up to my attention?”
what?
you reared back, brows furrowing from confusion, you were not distracted, if anything, you’ve never tried as much as you did these past few weeks, you were exhausted trying to do better.
“it’s just that—, i don’t know, kid. you could be doing more, your work has been sloppy, and if i’m being honest here, i don’t have time to always cover up for you. we’re all busy, and i’d like it if you’d pay more attention to the reports you give me.”
he’s such an asshole, talking with faux-concern, taking so much pleasure in seeing your face fall like your world just crashed down:
“sorry sir, i- i-“
gosh this is so embarrassing, you can’t even get the words out of your mouth, they’re just stuck.
“hey kid, it’s fine, i’m not— “
“no sir, i’m sorry, i’m- i didn’t realize that-“
your cheeks were so hot, you might be the cause of global warming right now. he walks up to you, slightly rounding up his back so he could stare at you, at eye level. price’s big, warm hands sliding on your shoulders. what the fuck.
“kid, i told you, it’s fine, no need to get so flustered. take a deep breath.”
and that you did, under his scrutinizing eyes.
“alright, perfect. that’s it kid, doing so good f’me, aren’t you?”
blinking a few times, you nod slowly, not even knowing what to say.
“okay, go back to your room now, spend some time for yourself, rest a bit, and we’ll get back to work tomorrow, yeah?” he squeezes your shoulders, smiling gently.
your heart is beating up so fast, you eagerly nod, and step back, just to put some distance between the two of you, you need space, you need—
you bolt out of the office, confused as ever.
shit, were you actually so bad at doing your job? why are you so disappointed in yourself? john was being kind to you, he’s not even putting any pressure on you, prioritizing your health above all.
tears welling up in your eyes, you try to gather your thoughts, you tell yourself it’s fine, it’s nothing, in fact it’s not even that deep if you try to rationalize a bit about what went on in his office.
no one sane would think twice about price’s deranged actions. in the end it might even just be a you problem. john knows that, well, that’s the whole point of manipulation isn’t it? he loves making everything seem normal and that all of it is in your fucked up head, and oh how easy it is to do it with someone like you.
honestly, i can't see kim raebin getting close to a woman who is completely stranger to him. so, let's just say that you were the daughter of their neighbour who is also his childhood friend.
we all know how introverted kim raebin was, so you had a hard time on getting close with him. because he always avoids you, or if you ever found a perfect time to talk to him, he always hisses making you blink. because for someone who looks like a bunny, kim raebin sure acts like a cat around you.
but wanna know how the two of you got close to each other? it's simple. it's because kim raebin accidentally saw you playing a guitar at a school event back when the two of you were in third grade. and boy, he was overjoyed! because this was the first time that he saw someone interested in music just like him!
at first, kim raebin was really shy when the two of you played or rather spent time together while playing various music instruments or making songs. but expect that after that, he would be so clingy. clingy to the point that he would follow you around like a damn puppy. at first, you thought that it was cute— not until you knew that he started stalking you around when you didn't hangout with him for a few days because you were too busy with school works.
what did you do? of course, you confronted him. but look, even though kim raebin has a problem when it comes on socializing with other people. it wasn't the same with you, because this guy knew everything about you. from your likes and dislikes, your habits, hell, even your measurements! that was the main reason why he easily changed the flow of the argument. he easily made you think that you are the one who's imagining that he was stalking you just because you missed hanging out with him, damn this smart guy.
kim raebin is so damn good when it comes to manipulating you into thinking that you were always the wrong one. forcing you to hang out with him without you thinking that he is actually forcing you. but, don't worry because kim raebin will never hurt you, he swear.
that's why when you heard that he got scouted on a certain entertainment company. you were overjoyed about this. because raebin will finally be able to achieve his dream and of course, you will be able to escape his clutches.
but, boy! kim raebin is a smart guy. because a year after kim raebin became a trainee, you got scouted too, by the same company that scouted kim raebin. how did that happen? you have no fucking idea. the only thing that they said is that they liked the song that you sent to them when you didn't actually send them one of your pieces. but who in the hell did sent it to them? you couldn't helped but to wonder. of course, it was a certain black-haired bunny who was overjoyed when he saw you confusedly stepped onto the company. and kim raebin— along with cha eugene who pestered raebin to introduce him to you welcomed you with the usual excited expression of his.
fast forward, when raebin debuted on testar, you also debuted and became the main vocalist, main rapper and lead dancer of your group. raebin liked the fact that everyone shipped the two of you. when does it start again? when you and raebin got invited to a certain variety show where the two kpop artists got partnered with each other and do certain tasks to see how compatible they were with each other. and seeing how the two of you easily do those tasks without even getting shy with each other, the host couldn't help but to ask the reason behind it. and when the two of you said that you were childhood friends. the internet got into chaos, fuck, childhood friends? everyone loves that kind of trope!
and now, he can visit you anytime he wants. seeing you and him eating together? it's fine, you were childhood friends after all! but seeing you getting partnered with a kpop artist who is not raebin? expect that everyone will criticize that idol because of that.
and raebin was satisfied with what was happening. he loved the fact that he was able to tie you down with him without you realizing it. it's fine even if you get into a secret relationship with other famous people. because once that was discovered by the public. he just needs to act pitiful and his and your fans will do the work to force you break up with whoever that guy was.
look, he likes you. he respects your decisions and choices but seeing you with other people makes his skin crawl. so, can you stay with him and do him a favour just like the old days, will you? because if you do that, he will gladly remain still and take care of you and protect your career.
“ i'm doing you a favour, you're just too irrational to see that right now, (first name).”
Pairing: Laurent Delacroix × Reader
Description: You thought you were making your own choices. But Laurent was always there—watching, guiding, ensuring every step led you straight to him. And now, there’s no way out.
Warnings: Yandere | Manipulation | Coercion | Power Imbalance | Stalking | Obsessive Behavior | Emotional Manipulation | Mild Threats | Intimidation
Update Schedule: Every Saturday. GMT+8.
Note: This is part of a completed ebook available on my kofi shop! Your support is highly appreciated. Click here to purchase [Dark Roast]. There's a total of 29 chapters for this one. Also, apologize for the delay!
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The rain had been falling since dawn. Slow at first, a mere drizzle against the rooftops, but by midday, it had settled into something relentless. Water streaks down the windows of Frosty Café, the muted gray light filtering in through the glass, casting a dull sheen over the worn countertops and half-empty tables.
You barely notice.
You’re too busy wiping down the espresso machine for the third time that morning, as if scrubbing harder could erase the exhaustion pressing against your bones.
The shop has been quiet all day. Too quiet.
In the past, lunchtime meant steady foot traffic—regulars slipping in for a quick cup of coffee, students occupying the corner tables with their textbooks, office workers picking up something sweet before heading back to their cubicles.
But lately, the crowds have thinned.
The air inside feels heavier now, the empty seats a stark reminder of what you’ve been trying to ignore.
The café is dying.
And you are sinking with it.
━━━ ✦ ━━━
The register beeps as you ring up a lone order—a single espresso, the first sale in nearly an hour. You force a polite smile as the customer takes their drink and walks out, leaving the café empty once again.
The silence is suffocating.
Your eyes flicker to the schedule pinned behind the counter, the red marks glaring back at you. Fewer shifts. Shorter hours. Another coworker is gone.
You know what this means.
It’s not just the café that’s struggling. It’s you.
Rent is due soon. Bills are stacking up. You’ve already cut corners wherever you could—fewer groceries, no unnecessary spending, convincing yourself you don’t really need three meals a day.
Your hands tighten around the counter.
You’ve worked so hard to hold everything together. But no matter how much effort you put in, it’s never enough.
You close your eyes, exhaling slowly.
And that’s when your best friend’s voice echoes in your mind.
"You don’t have to struggle like this."
"I’m offering you something better."
Your stomach twists.
You don’t want to take the offer. You don’t want to walk away from the job you fought to keep.
But as you stare at the nearly empty café, at the reality pressing down on you like a vice, you realize something.
You might not have a choice.
The bells above the door chime, jolting you from your thoughts. You expect to see a customer, maybe a regular, but instead, it’s her.
Your best friend steps inside, shaking the rain from her umbrella before folding it neatly. She doesn’t hesitate as she makes her way toward the counter, her gaze flicking briefly to the nearly empty shop.
She notices.
Of course, she does.
You wipe your hands on a towel, forcing a smile. “You’re out early.”
She hums in response, glancing toward the espresso machine. “Slow day?”
You shrug, hoping she doesn’t hear the exhaustion creeping into your voice. “Nothing new.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she studies you—too closely.
And that’s when you know why she’s really here.
She’s not just checking in. She came with a purpose.
You don’t say anything, just turn away to busy yourself with the machine, pretending to adjust the settings. But you can still feel her watching you, waiting.
Then, finally—
“You should consider my offer.”
You pause, your fingers hovering over the espresso machine’s buttons. You knew this was coming. You could feel it in the way she had been watching you, in the weight of her silence before she finally spoke.
Still, you force a small, dry chuckle. “You’re persistent.”
“I have to be,” she says, sliding onto one of the stools by the counter. “You’re stubborn.”
You shake your head, turning your attention back to the machine as if there’s suddenly something urgent about refilling the coffee beans. Anything to keep from meeting her eyes.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
She exhales, and you can almost hear the frustration in it.
“You’re not fine,” she says, voice quieter this time. “Look around you, Y/N. How much longer can you keep doing this?”
The name stings. She only says it like that when she’s serious, when she’s done letting you dodge the truth.
You grip the edge of the counter, shoulders tense.
“Frosty Café isn’t going to last,” she continues, softer now, almost apologetic. “You know that.”
You swallow hard. Of course, you know that.
You’ve known for a while now.
But admitting it? That’s different.
You finally turn to face her, crossing your arms. “And what? Should I just leave? Drop everything and run?”
She meets your stare without flinching. She was prepared for this.
“No one’s asking you to run,” she says calmly. “But you don’t have to let this place drag you down with it.”
Silence.
She doesn’t fill it right away. She lets it sit.
And that’s when you realize—
She’s waiting for you to break.
You hate how well she knows you.
Hate that she knew exactly what to say, how to say it.
Because now, you’re thinking about it.
You shift your weight, glancing toward the empty tables, the rain-slicked windows, the coffee machine that’s barely been used today. The quiet hum of the refrigerator feels deafening.
She’s right.
You don’t want to admit it, but she’s right.
You exhale slowly, pressing your fingers against your temple. “What exactly are you offering?”
You don’t miss the way her posture eases just slightly.
She knew you’d ask.
“A stable job. A managerial position at a new café.” She keeps her voice measured, professional, like she’s just stating facts. “The pay is good. The hours are better. And you wouldn’t have to worry about whether your next paycheck will actually come through.”
A bitter laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Sounds a little too perfect, doesn’t it?”
She doesn’t react, just tilts her head. Waiting. Watching. Letting you argue with yourself.
You bite the inside of your cheek.
She’s not lying. You know she’s not.
But something about this—about the way she’s offering it, about the way she’s looking at you—feels off.
It’s as if there’s something she isn’t saying.
You narrow your eyes, studying her. She’s holding something back.
She’s too composed. Too prepared.
And that’s what makes you hesitate.
“…Why now?” you ask.
She blinks, caught off guard for the first time. “What?”
“Why are you bringing this up again now?” You gesture vaguely around the café. “You’ve mentioned it before, but today… You came here just to push this.”
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she picks up a sugar packet from the counter, turning it between her fingers.
Then, finally—
“I don’t want to see you struggle anymore.”
It sounds genuine. It almost convinces you.
Almost.
You lean against the counter, crossing your arms. “Who owns this café?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “I do.”
That part, at least, isn’t a lie.
But it still doesn’t feel like the whole truth.
Your stomach tightens. You can’t put your finger on it, but something about this doesn’t sit right.
You should say no.
You should walk away.
But when you glance back at the empty café, the dwindling supplies, the unpaid invoices stacking up in the office…
Can you afford to?
You hate this. Hate that she’s making sense.
Because deep down, you know she’s right.
You’re barely holding on. The café is already slipping through your fingers, and no matter how hard you try, no matter how many extra shifts you take or how much you sacrifice, it won’t be enough.
It’s never enough.
You swallow, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “And if I say no?”
She exhales, pressing her lips together. She knew you’d ask that too.
“I won’t force you,” she says.
But there’s something in her tone—something weighted, something final.
Like she already knows what you’ll decide.
You grip the rag in your hands, wringing it tightly. The logical part of you is screaming to take the offer, to escape before this place crushes you completely.
But there’s another part—a small, stubborn part—that still resists.
Because this isn’t just a job. It’s your last piece of stability.
And if you let go now, what happens next?
Your best friend watches you carefully, waiting for you to make the final move.
And as much as you don’t want to admit it—
She’s already won.
━━━ ✦ ━━━
Your best friend isn’t the only one who’s been watching you.
You feel it again the next morning—the way your manager lingers near the counter longer than usual, the hesitant glances from the remaining staff, the way no one quite meets your eye.
And then, when the shift schedule is posted, your name is missing.
Your stomach twists as you scan the list again. It has to be a mistake.
But when you step into the back office, the café owner—a man who once trusted you with closing shifts, handling inventory, running this place like it was your own—only sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We’re making adjustments,” he says, not unkindly. “With the way things are going… we have to cut hours where we can.”
You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat. “So that’s it?”
“It’s not forever,” he assures you. A lie. You hear it in his voice. “It’s just temporary.”
You nod, but it feels like someone has pulled the ground from beneath you.
Because this isn’t temporary. You know that the same way you knew the café wouldn’t survive.
The decision was never truly yours.
And as you step out of the office—feeling weightless, untethered, already slipping into the next stage of your life—you think back to your best friend’s words.
kiki, what do u think of teacher!ayato ??? i just know that he would be such a pervert and even manipulating the reader
I WAS WAITINGGGG FOR THIS ONE !
𖦹 tw: power imbalance, teacher x student dynamic, age gap, dub-con, manipulation, dark content.
you know that kind of professor that in class, while teaching, is extremely demanding and kind of makes the class have a mix of respect and fear for him, but that, in the corridors, if you ask him something, he would be extremely attentive and kind and would answer any question you had?
this is kamisato ayato being a professor.
the problem is: he doesn't do anything without a reason or purpose, especially because he knows that if he wants he can get any girl on campus into his bed with just a look and a suggestive sideways smile; ayato knows what to say to captivate someone and that's why he collects girls younger than him in bed — and by collect, ayato means: to have their panties as a prize for him to use afterwards wrapped around his cock while getting off.
ayato is a pervy of the first order, the kind of pervy who will find any means possible to rub his hands on your tits or thighs or waist and when he sees you looking at him with the slightest hesitant or confused expression or action, he says: "oh, you're uncomfortable? did i make you uncomfortable? sorry, i didn't mean to, y'know i'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable, don'tcha?"
and you were going to start wondering if he was always like that with other students, but watching him interact with other people, it was obvious the discrepancy in how he acted around them even in public.
professor!ayato was going to be so good at hiding what he wanted to do to you, but sometimes his self-control would slip and he would find himself taking the same crowded subway as you only to stand behind you, with one arm around your waist after saying that "it was to keep you from falling", and slowly, so slowly that it would take you a while to notice, rubbing his increasingly hard cock against your ass and thighs.
it was a bad day to wear a skirt. ayato would even say: "why did you have to be wearing such a short skirt in public, hm? y'know that creepy guys could look at you and grope you the way you like, but you know that your favorite prof is not a creepy guy, right?"
and as soon as he got home, professor!ayato would furiously fist his dick in the shower until he was cumming while moaning your name and imagining that you were beneath him, preferably hiding underneath the desk in his college room, with mouth open and tongue out to drink and swallow every drop.
on one fateful day, professor!ayato would decide that he could no longer control himself when he saw you talking to some boys in your class — kaeya, diluc, he didn't care what the boy's name was — and would ask you, in the middle of the class, to stay a little later after but you would try to deny the request just before the class was dismissed claiming that you had a commitment and he would answer: "if you don't want to receive a surprise at the end of the semester, I think you'd better stay, sweetie" — the sweetie being low enough just for you to hear, close to your ear.
you, being alone with him, would be so tense, he would try to hide a lascivious smile at the sight of your legs revealing how anxious you were. it was a bad day to wear the same skirt as the other day.
"such a cute little skirt you're wearing, is it the same one as the other day?", professor!ayato would ask, pulling his chair to the side and uncrossing his legs, typical manspreading with the volume of his cock extremely visible and the fabric of the pants tightening around his thighs more and more.
"you know it is, Mr. Kamisato", you replied, almost grumbling and looking away from the floor.
"mhm, i do, i do, but i like your voice so much, i like listening to it", ayato would reply before taking one hand to his dick to start massaging it as he continued to look at you, "and i like your skirt too, why don't you come sit on my lap and lemme take a closer look at it, hm? i'd love to feel the fabric of it before i slide my fingers between your legs and make 'em tremble a little more, sounds good to you, sweetie?"
you would deny it with the head and he would feel the need to make you understand how much he wanted to fuck you, wanted to feel you from inside and make you take every last drop of his cum; ayato would get up and pull you against the table to place one hand on his covered cock before saying, "you can feel it, right? how hard i am, why don't you help your prof a little, hm? someone told me he is so kind, he must not even let his cum get on your pretty skirt" and then he would run his other hand up the hem of your skirt.
without much choice, it wouldn't take long before his fingers were deep in your pussy, stretching and bending you over as his mouth left wet nibbles and kisses down your neck and your hand began to pump his dick rapidly.
professor!ayato would definitely pin you against the desk as soon as his cock slid inside you and those veins were rubbing against your walls so tight they would make him wonder if you weren't a whore-ish virgin.
"tell me how much you like it, pretty thing, how much you like having your icky professor's cock inside you, tell me", ayato would whisper in your ear without stopping thrusting.
by the end of the night, he would have a new pair of panties to use as fap material, but, for him, it wasn't the same to cum in the fabric of them. no, no! professor!ayato needed to fill you full of cum and then send you to the other classes of the day at the college and, at the end of the day, replace the old seed with the new, fresher and stickier one.
warnings. manipulation, gaslighting, suggestive insult, dehumanisation/objectification of reader, minors do not interact with my blog - it contains dark content.
“you’re nothing without me. go on, walk out into the world and see who wouldn’t take advantage of you.”
XIAO, KAEYA, ALBEDO.
“why do i even bother keeping you around other than a hole to fuck? archons, you’re such a chore.”
DILUC, AYATO, CHILDE.
“i don’t expect you to treat me like a god. but you think you’re worthy of one like me?”
ZHONGLI. VENTI. SCARAMOUCHE. (i mean.. he is made in the image of one.)
manipulative men who belittle you and make you doubt your worth either on purpose or out of frustration. it hurts you. it strikes at your insecurities but- maybe he’s right. he knows better than you right? he’s always said how he’s the one who knows what’s best for you.
coughs. my throat hurts from screaming. i may have yelled a bit too hard whilst tearing someone apart n thought of some angst in the aftermath. also, thank very very much for 1k <3 never thought i would say that but life is full of surprises. 1k skrunklies, have the best day mwah!
you and gojo met a long time ago, through mutual friends.
one of your friends was dating one of gojo’s friends. sheer coincidence, you thought.
you two would meet often, along your friends. for some reason, you and gojo happened to be intimate friends of each friend in common, so you’d often find yourself sitting by gojo’s side while the couple chatted and kissed lovingly. gojo didn’t talk to you at first, neither did you. he was older than you, much more, and you were too intimidated by his appearance. you’d rather stay in silence then talk to him and make yourself look like a fool.
but gojo wasn’t like that - at first.
that’s how the both of you started to look forward to these little getting-togethers, asking your friends for when the four of you would hang out again.
it’s actually pretty funny to think how the both of you became friends, even your friend joked about it.
one night, at your friend’s place, the two of you got a little overwhelmed with the lovey-dovey atmosphere your friends were putting up on the couch. gojo had left a few minutes before you, leaving you behind. you couldn’t take it, and decided to leave for a while too, entering the kitchen without noticing gojo sitting on the floor mindlessly. of course, his long legs and your silly feet met together, making you fall on the floor right next to him.
you hated when gojo would bring it up everytime people asked how the two of you became so close, telling them how red you looked.
your friends dated for three years, until, like every relationship, things started to get tough, until they broke up. you were devastated, but the two of them assured you that they’d get along for the safety of you and gojo’s friendship.
you didn’t mind it, gojo either. thinking the friendship would start to dissipate, the two of you continued to meet, this time just the two of you. gojo would invite you to his place, and you’d invite him to yours. like any other friendship, you guys would talk, sometimes drink, sometimes fall asleep on the couch while watching a movie, sometimes drive around, anything. you believed your friendship with gojo was pretty strong, despite the difference in age, he became really important to you, and so did you to gojo.
so then, when did things got crude?
you knew the answer, and so did gojo. but the two of you had erased the chapter long ago.
one night, you and gojo found each other in a rather large group of mutuals friends. he hadn’t told you he was coming, and neither did you. nothing was going on, the two of you had met just yesterday, but since each of your friends (at the moment exes) had invited you and gojo, you thought it’d be impossible to meet. yet there the two of you were.
gojo was bewildered when he saw you coming inside his friend’s place, your best friend by your side with a smile on her face. the two of you were quick to catch on what was happening. your friends informed you not too later, telling you the two had started talking again and were gonna try to make it work one last time.
you blamed it on the atmosphere, gojo on the alcohol. either way, the two of you locked eyes, following each other up the stairs.
the first time, the two of you agreed it was a spur of the moment. gojo hadn’t gone out in a while and neither had you, it was understandable.
the second time, the both of you thought the same thing; you were just in need of some action every once in a while.
but then, why the both of you met a third time?
“what do you think?”
you accepted his offer without hesitation. you trusted gojo, and you thought it’d be a good idea to help each other, after all, you were friends, right?
that’s how everything started.
gojo would come knocking on your door like any other day, the two of you would chat, maybe cook something, watch a movie, and then gojo would start kissing your neck, and you’d run your hands through his hair.
you thought you were so lucky. gojo was a handsome man, and you knew if he wanted, he could get in the bed of any other women he wished, yet he picked you.
maybe that’s why, through the time, your eyes started to see gojo in a different light.
you couldn’t be blamed, gojo did too. he was gentle, loving, making sure you had a good time, you almost believed he was starting to feel the way you did.
until gojo finally looked into your eyes.
he ignored it, since, there was no way you felt that way about him, right? it was the unwritten rules in this game the two of you were playing. it’s been years, why’d you see him like that at this point?
gojo ignored as much as he could everytime he rocked his hips into you, but in no time, it was impossible to avoid your eyes, watching him lovingly as your tongue dangled out of your mouth in pleasure.
the most smart decision probably would’ve been talking about it. it was simple, gojo just had to tell you he didn’t feel the same way, you were a special friend to him, but he didn’t see you in such eyes.
but gojo started to bottle those thoughts up. he’s met many women in his life, and he didn’t want things to end like that with you, he didn’t want to lose you too.
that’s what he told himself - even though, what gojo didn’t notice, was that instead of your company, he started to enjoy more your body.
gojo had a good time with you, you were sweet, you would take anything he offered you. everything gojo wanted to try you accepted it with puppy eyes, eyes that started to unsettle gojo.
because, who in their right mind would allow be touched under the table with all your friends around?
and who would allow a man like him call you names and slam you against a wall the second he entered your house?
you did, and gojo started to dislike it.
you were so naive, so utterly in love with gojo, and enamored at the idea of him loving you the way you dreamed he would, you started to accept more and more.
gojo would fuck you with your head hanging out the side of the bed, your body swinging and the blood rushing to your head, disrupting the pleasure you concentrated on feeling, because you should be enjoying whatever gojo did with your body.
you knew you didn’t, though. you knew you hated when gojo would ask you to suck him on the bathroom while your friends chatted outside, and you hated when he fucked you in a public bathroom in the middle of your friends wedding. but how could you complain? gojo loved you.
you should’ve stopped him the moment you stopped feeling the high he did. the moment the pleasure he was feeling didn’t reach you, but you didn’t. not because you thought gojo loved you, but because you loved him.
you brought it up one time, as gojo stripped you of your clothes, the blood rushing through your ears by the way he yanked your shirt over your head. “i think you’re being too rough.”
gojo chuckled, tilting his head as he planted a kiss on your mouth, assuring you’d eventually enjoy it.
you believed him, even the mornings after when your legs and arms were sour, and you were incapable of opening your mouth too wide. gojo would only laugh.
gojo hated it, though.
gojo hated the way you would continue to stick around like a lost puppy. he couldn’t bring himself to stop the situation, but why weren’t you stopping him?
after that comment, you never said anything else, and gojo knew you wanted to, he hoped you wanted to. because he knew you hated the things he was making you do. you weren’t that kind of person, hell, you hated that kind of attention. gojo knew the only reason you agreed to fuck without compromises the first time was because you wanted him to be happy. gojo knew that, and hated you for that.
why were you acting like a bunny? you weren’t like that. you weren’t docile like guinea pig, nervous like a deer, no, you weren’t like that. you were funny and straightforward, you never let anyone step over you, but then, why were you letting gojo step all over you like that?
gojo knew the answer at the bottom of his heart, but he, like many other things, ignored it. he wasn’t responsible for you, you were a grown adult and you could take care of yourself. if you wanted to, you’d easily get up and end everything. but why weren’t you.
things between you and gojo started to change. soon becoming a year, this dynamic continued between the two of you, yet, the connection was nonexistent. he wouldn’t call, nor text you, and the only time you two would meet was when he was feeling horny. he would come, fuck you, and leave right after finishing. at first, he’d tell you goodnight, he’d tell you to have a good day or he’d greet you before entering your place. but after a month, he would only come inside your place, fuck, and leave right after. you tried to get him to talk, trying to grab onto him everytime he finished, and gojo quickly picked on your behaviour.
you soon realized that probably the reason gojo continued to stick around you wasn’t because he considered you a friend, but because you were easy to control; you were his source of entertainment.
who would put up with gojo satoru? you laughed to yourself, would anybody allow to be treated the way gojo does to you? maybe that’s also the reason why he’s constantly knocking at your door.
once gojo noticed how much you tried to get him to stay a few minutes by your side, he decided the only way to stop you was fucking you dumb enough you’d pass out.
gojo knew you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. gojo knew he was a dickhead, taking advantage of the friendship you had built over the years. the thought of another man treating you like this was revolting. the thought of another man abusing your trust, betraying you like that, hell, he’d probably go after that guy and kill him with his bare hands if he could. yet there he was, growling onto your ear and violently pounding into you.
the fact you allowed this to happen, permitted him take you whenever and wherever, managed to hunt him. everytime he heard you panting next to his body, incapable of bringing yourself to your feet, gojo turned his back to you. and he wishes, he fervently wishes the image of your face in pain, silently begging for him to stop, could knock some sense into his head.
news flash: it doesn't.
everytime he notices your eyes close tight and your fingers fidgeting, gojo regains energy, taking in the noises coming out of your mind and reading you like an open book, only inciting this sick flame inside of home. the sick idea that if he treats you like this, you will walk out.
gojo folds your body and he knows you can’t take it, praying you will scream and push him away. you should. but then why are you putting up with this?
gojo doesn’t understand, that’s why you try to think.
but gojo knows what he’s doing is wrong. gojo damn well knows, and that hope slowly turns into loathing, because, are you stupid? can’t you take the hint?
this could be easily solved if he spoke to you. but gojo had long gotten bored of any form of communicating, he hated weak people.
gojo hated you and that sick love you felt for him.
gojo watched your friends reactions to your bruised neck. it’s not like he cared. he wished you did though. but you assured them you were alright every single team.
“your friends are fucking dumb,” he scowled in your ear while your body continued to shake, his hips yanking you forward and forward where the top of your head continously hit the headboard.
gojo started hating your friends, he would always remind you that. he hated them because everytime he grabbed your neck with all his force, they still wouldn’t budge.
how long were you gonna put up with this?
“there he is,” gojo hears coming from the door as heavy steps approach him.
he doesn’t react fast enough, and a hand lands on his cheek with such force he’s genuinely dumbfounded.
“babe!” his friend yells, watching his girlfriend take a step back, gojo’s cheek swelling at the hit.
“what is wrong with you?” she screams again, completely ignoring his friend.
gojo has a bad feeling, but he doesn’t say anything.
his friend is quick to grab onto his girlfriend, who suddenly feels like slapping gojo across the cheek again.
“you psycho! what is wrong with you?” she says again, and gojo knows what she’s talking about.
your friends had gone on their honeymoon, leaving for about two months. within those two months, gojo and you started to experience new situations. gojo would slap your face, your cheek, your mouth, every time getting a little more and more violent with you.
your friends never said anything, but he knew your best friend would.
still, he was hoping you’d try to stop her, so where were you right now?
“babe, calm down, what are you talking about?”
“well, your asshole of a friend has been doing whatever the hell he wants with my friend and i won’t let him get away with it!”
gojo’s friend is confused, but gojo doesn’t say anything, expectant of what you had probably said.
“she thinks i don’t notice but how can i ignore it? gojo’s been treating her like a bag of sand, like a lifeless doll he can do whatever the hell he wants to and i won’t let him any longer!”
“why doesn’t she come here and say it herself?”
the two other people are taken aback. gojo is wearing a contented smile, as if he was finding the situation amusing. your friend scoffs, genuinely dumbfounded.
“what?”
“if she’s having a bad time why doesn’t she tell me?”
“you dumb fuck, maybe because she loves you?”
“and what has that to do with me?”
your friend latches at his cheek one more time, but gojo traps her wrist in his fingers before she can hit him with her force. his friend comes into the argument, “i don’t think you’re being fair, gojo.”
“how is she being fair? i never force her to do anything, why are you putting the blame on me?”
gojo shrugs, walking out of the kitchen, leaving the couple completely speechless.
you jump on your seat at the banging of your door. is late in the night, still, you don’t expect gojo to be at your door, neither were you expecting him to treat you with such force.
“what’s up with you?”
his fingers wrap around your neck, completely enveloping his hand around it, with so much force your eyes are quickly seeing white dots.
“w-what do you mean?”
“if something’s happening you’re telling me, right?” he asks you, but you don’t know if he expects an answer, either way, you were unable to answer, barely fighting for the last of air in your system. “answer!”
“i can’t,” you whisper.
gojo’s cloudy vision finally clears out the moment he feels a tear run down his hand. you start sobbing, unconsciously losing air, but you’re incapable of stopping yourself. you can’t take it anymore.
gojo takes a step back and you fall to your knees, your fingers going straight to your neck as you exhale.
“we’re done,” is all he says.
“wait! wait, gojo, please wait!” you call out, running after him. gojo isn’t running, but his legs move faster than he’s ever walked, trying to disappear from your presence as fast as he can.
because he’s finally realized everything he’s done, and he finally realizes how much he genuinely loves you.
Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens.
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU)
Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy
Word Count: 2.5 k
A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two — who knows, maybe one day.
You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.
"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.
"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.
"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"
"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.
"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."
Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.
You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.
"Food?"
"No."
"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.
"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.
"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"
"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"
"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.
"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.
"Am not—" slap
His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.
"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."
"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.
"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.
"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"
"Who said anything about that?"
"Are you insane? You loved her!"
"Have I?"
The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.
"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."
"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.
"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."
The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.
"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.
"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.
"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."
"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.
"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."
"Ah– w-with Jean!"
"And?"
"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.
"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.
"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.
"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"
The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.
"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.
"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.
"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.
"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.
Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.
"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.
"N-no-"
"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.
"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.
"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"
"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"
"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.
"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.
When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!
"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.
"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.
"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"
"To get back with Mikasa."
Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.
"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"
"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.
When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.
The book was a bad omen. The worn pages smelled musky and sweet to his nose.. It was a proverbial to many in the community that this smell was dangerous to those who wished to drink from its knowledge.
Perhaps that is why Vanmit was reluctant to ever open its pages. It glares up to him from his desk, his fingers drumming dangerously close to the cover- yet never touching it. A sigh ripped its way from his mouth as he leaned on his free hand, eyes shut in contemplation.. Was it a good idea? Was it too late to toss the thing out and track down that masked troll?
The shadows behind him tickled at his neck- before a pair of arms wrapped their way around his shoulders. Hands splayed across his chest. He jolted in the grasp, before calming at the sound of laughter.
"Hey~ Vanmi~ Whatcha up to? Heheh."
Rhaida pressed her cheek against his, her white hair neatly kept as her jade eyes sparked under the light- Vanmit couldn't help but stare sometimes.. Those eyes never reflected how she felt. He could tell she wasn't completely honest, but neither was he. He took a sharp inhale, feeling her nails dig in at his lack of response, a habit she had began to pick up,
"Yeesh. Maybe put the claws aw8y."
She giggled, removing her arms from him and taking a seat on his desk. Her form imposing as she blocked out the light from the overhead lamp. The glow made her look ethereal- pure and godly. He dismissed the thoughts,
"I was given a b88k by a client t8 transl8. H8ever I am lacking c8nfidence t8 d8 s8.. I was thinking that I sh8uld t8ss it 8ut or give it back."
He could see her smile waver, irritation evident in her eyes,
"Of course you're too scared to open it~ Hehe. Are you really going to disappoint another person like that?~ Youre better than that.~"
The words she spoke always struck an odd place for him, shame was the only thing to describe what he felt in the moment, his gaze shifted away,
"Oh don't go playing the victim now~ Hehehe. Just get your work done, ya? Then you can work on dinner~ Hehehe."
She pressed a peck to his cheek, quickly rising to her feet and crossing his room to the doorframe. His feelings were raging- why does he let her talk to him like that.
"Rhaida, y8u seri8usly need t8 st8p taking t8 me like that, y8ure acting like a t8tal bitch."
She stopped, her hand twitching against the doorframe, she looked to him from over her shoulder, her sweet smile still present on her face,
"Like what? Hehehe~ Seems like you're a little tired.~ How about I make dinner instead~."
He was unable to retort as she walked out of frame. The energy radiating off of her unsettling him. Perhaps he was tired and crafting this narrative of her being mean. He had a tendency to over react and she often pointed it out to him. Yeah. That's probably it. He was being ungrateful again. He felt relieved as a rush of adoration for her crept into his body... That was odd. Why was he mad at her? Hm.
He sighed, turning back to the book.. and with an unsteady hand. He unveiled the pages to his greedy eyes. The words were hardly legible, stains and poor penmanship... Yeesh, he would have to charge this troll extra for assaulting him with the horrible conditions of the book.
The cerulean pulled open his drawer, taking out his favorite pen and notebook. The fresh white paper sat next to the yellowed pages, begging to be marked by his careful hand. Reluctantly he began to translate the pages.
Eldritch Zoology.. Tales of old.. Warnings..It seemed to be a common theme among most of the pages. Alteration to one's self via dark magic- hes heard of it before. He had even considered signing a contract with the furthest rings for research but to give one's sanity up in return? Foolish. Silly.
The sensation of eyes on the back of his head was burning, yet he ignored it. He knew better than to flinch and turn around. She wouldn't like that if she was watching. It was probably not even her.. she always made herself known eventually.
He couldn't help but to begin to sweat at his sudden anxiety, his hand was shaking and his lungs burned.. no. This was definitely something out of his normal reaction to things, the pen dropped from his hand- it instead grasped his chest. His heart was beating so fast, so quickly. It felt like he was going to have a heart attack.. He couldn't speak.
"Heheheh Vanmi dear~ You look kinda pale. Hehhee."
No.. Not this.. was this a punishment? For stepping out of line? His head refused to look up, his head was swimming and everything was screaming danger.. danger danger. The jade set down a plate of food next to his notebook, a sandwich but.. why was there a fork? He didn't need it. His free hand was situated flat on the desk, shaking against the cool surface, her humming did nothing to alleviate the feelings. She rested her chin on his shoulder, his body shook.. The fork taken delicately in her hands,
"Not gonna eat? Heheheh~ But I made it with love."
He tried to force the words from his throat.. but nothing came forth.
"Tch.. That's very ungrateful Heheheh. I do all of this just for you~ Hehehe. This is gonna hurt me a lot more that its gonna hurt you."
Not even a moment passed, he didn't know what to expect- the shooting pain in his hand alerted him to what had happened. A yell ripped from his throat as his eyes began to water, his eyes wearily looked over. The silverware lodged directly into the top of his hand, cerulean began to leak from the new wound.
"Hmm. I think that will suffice heheheh~"
She removed it quickly, a hiss came from him- a smile present on her face.. the jade pressed a small kiss to his cheek..
"Now don't forget to eat~ Heheheh. And clean up the mess, ya? Love you."
He was left alone.. In the darkness of his room. Searing pain and an unsettling adoration for her lurked in his mind.. Was this love?
