love

You hated the countryside.

Not in the dramatic way people in movies hated things either—where they complained for ten minutes before magically learning to love the fresh air and the scenery. No. You genuinely hated it—hated the heat that stuck to your skin like wet fabric, hated the dirt that somehow always found its way under your nails no matter how much you washed your hands, hated the smell of livestock drifting through the air every morning, hated how quiet it got at night, so quiet you could hear insects screaming in the grass outside your window.

And most of all—you hated that your father lived there because every summer visit meant labor.

Your dad believed in “hard work buildin’ character,” which was just another way of saying he’d drag you out into the fields until your body ached and your skin burned while he barked instructions at you from twenty feet away.

Meanwhile you’d spent the entire year enjoying city life—sleeping in, staying indoors, wasting hours on your phone, eating whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. Then suddenly you were expected to wake up before the sun and work until your muscles felt like they were splitting apart.

It was miserable.

Packing your bags had been easy enough. Just throw clothes into a suitcase and ignore your mother giving you sympathetic looks from the doorway. Leaving your actual life behind though? That part sucked. You practically mourned your bed before walking out the front door.

The drive felt too long.

Every mile farther from the city made you more irritated. Buildings disappeared. Stores disappeared. Signal disappeared. Eventually all that remained were endless stretches of land, fences, patches of wheat, old tractors rusting in grass, and skies so open it almost felt uncomfortable.

When your father’s truck finally pulled into the gravel driveway, you stared at the old farmhouse with immediate dread.

Same chipped paint.

Same creaky porch.

Same stupid windmill off in the distance.

You let out a long sigh while dragging your suitcase out of the car—and the heat hit immediately.

Dry. Heavy. Brutal.

Your father clapped a rough hand onto your shoulder with enough force to nearly shove you forward. “Quit sulkin’. Ain’t gonna kill ya to spend a lil’ time outside.”

Easy for him to say.

The first day passed surprisingly fast though. Maybe because your father was oddly softer after not seeing you for months. Dinner had been decent. You talked a little, laughed once or twice.

And thankfully, he didn’t force you into the fields immediately. You spent the evening sitting on the porch while cicadas screamed in the trees, pretending the entire trip might not be completely terrible.

Then morning came—violently in fact.

You woke up to your father pounding on your bedroom door at seven in the morning, and groaned.

“Up.”

You nearly choked yourself in the pillow to death.

The room was already warm from the sun leaking through the curtains. You dragged yourself out of bed looking half-dead while your father tossed clothes at you.

“Wear somethin’ light. Gonna be hot today.”

No kidding.

You reluctantly changed into shorts and a thin shirt, already annoyed by how exposed you felt. The countryside somehow made everything feel more embarrassing. Maybe because everyone stared too long here, maybe because there was nothing else to look at except each other.

You barely had time to wake up properly before your father marched you outside.

The fields stretched endlessly under the burning sun, golden and green blending together beneath the bright sky. Workers were already moving through rows of crops in the distance. You hated how alive everyone looked this early.

Then your father introduced you to him.

“Axilen!” your father called.

You turned lazily—and immediately regretted it.

The man walking toward you was huge, not just tall but built like a damn fridge.

Muscular arms strained beneath the sleeves of his worn shirt, sun-bronzed skin glistening slightly from sweat already gathered across his neck and collarbone. His jeans were dusty, boots caked with dirt, and his hands looked rough enough to split wood barehanded.

And his eyes—

His eyes landed on you and didn’t leave, not for a second.

It was immediate, and shameless—shameless in the way his gaze dragged down your body slowly before returning to your face with a grin that looked far too pleased.

“Well now,” he drawled.

His accent was thick—deep countryside. Words slow and honeyed, vowels stretching lazily off his tongue. “Ain’t ya just beautiful.”

You blinked awkwardly.

Your father didn’t seem bothered at all.

Axilen stepped closer, still staring openly. “Lord above… ain’t got a flaw on ya either.”

His eyes moved again—up, down— slow like he was savoring the sight.

You shifted uncomfortably, offering an awkward nod purely because your father stood beside you and you didn’t want to start problems immediately.

Unfortunately, that tiny reaction seemed to completely charm him.

Axilen grinned wider, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Cute too.”

You hated him already.

The work started immediately after introductions, and somehow Axilen made everything worse.

Everywhere you went—he followed.

Every row you worked on suddenly became his row too. Every basket you carried mysteriously got taken from your hands before you could finish. Every task turned into an excuse for him to hover beside you talking endlessly while you sweated yourself half to death beneath the blazing sun.

“You city folk always this delicate?” he teased while effortlessly lifting something you struggled carrying earlier.

You wiped sweat from your forehead irritably. “No. I just don’t enjoy manual labor.”

He laughed at that, adams apple bobbing, his chuckle deep and loud. “Aw, don’t worry. I’ll take care’a the hard stuff.”

You almost rolled your eyes hard enough to collapse.

And the worst part was how persistent he was—most people backed off when you acted uninterested, axilen didn’t.

If anything, it encouraged him more.

You’d ignore him and he’d simply move closer. You’d answer with one-word replies and he’d grin like you’d flirted with him. Every dismissive look you gave him only made his expression soften into something dangerously fond.

It was irritating and weird, especially because he stared at you constantly. And it wasn't like it was subtle either.

Every time you glanced up, he was already looking like he physically could not stop himself.

You bent down to pull weeds from the soil, sweat sticking your shirt against your back while the sun roasted your skin alive. A shadow fell over you seconds later.

Of course it did.

Axilen crouched beside you easily, broad shoulders blocking some of the sunlight.

“Y’know,” he started casually, “never seen someone look so pretty workin’ in dirt before.”

You exhaled sharply.

“get lost,” you muttered.

He grinned instantly, that grin was becoming a problem.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice dropping lower. “Might get the wrong message.”

You frowned up at him. “What message?”

“That yer playin’ hard t’ get.”

You stared at him flatly.

He just looked amused.

But Axilen genuinely didn’t understand why you weren’t warming up to him yet. In his mind, this was practically fate.

The second he saw you standing there beside your father, suitcase in hand and irritation written all over your face, something inside him had latched onto you instantly.

He’d grown up in this town his entire life—seen the same people, same women, same routines, nothing ever changed.

Then suddenly you arrived looking all soft and pretty and completely out of place beneath the country sun, and Axilen felt like someone had slammed a hook straight through his ribs.

He couldn’t stop looking at you, didn’t want to.

The way your face twisted whenever you got annoyed was adorable to him. The way you clearly hated the heat made him weirdly affectionate, even your attitude charmed him.

Especially your attitude.

Axilen always got pissed off when city people always looked down on countryside folk. Yet there you were in shorts that showed off your legs while glaring at him like he was a mosquito buzzing around your head, and he just bit his bottom lip to keep from groaning.

You were cute—so damn cute.

And you smelled good, not like dirt or hay or sweat, you smelled clean and sweet—wrong for this place.

Axilen liked that too.

He watched you more than he worked honestly. He watched the way you wiped sweat from your neck, watched your irritated expressions. He watched your fingers struggle with simple tasks, watched the way you sighed dramatically every five minutes.

And by lunchtime, Axilen had already decided he was gonna keep you.

Not literally, of course.

…Well, actually..

“Yer burnin’ up,” he said later when he noticed your face flushed from heat.

“No shit.”

He laughed again. “Language.”

You glared.

He loved when you glared.

Axilen stepped behind you suddenly, making you tense when his large hand brushed your shoulder lightly before tugging your hat lower over your face to shield your eyes from the sun.

"there." He murmured, and your stomach twisted in annoyance.

“Stop touching me.”

He blinked once, then smiled softly. “Can’t really help it.”

That answer made your skin crawl slightly—not because he sounded threatening, but because he sounded sincere, entirely too sincere like touching you had become instinct already.

The day dragged on endlessly.

At one point your father sent the two of you to repair fencing farther from the main fields, which really meant trapping you alone with Axilen for nearly an hour.

You nearly died internally.

Axilen, unfortunately, seemed thrilled, and the walk there was torture because he refused to stop talking.

“Told yer daddy I’d help out with ya personally.”

“Why?”

“Wanted t’ spend time with ya.”

You exhaled quietly.

He smiled at the sound.

“You always this grumpy?”

“When I’m overheating, yes.”

“Ain’t overheating. Yer just dramatic.”

You shot him a look.

He grinned immediately. “There’s that face again.”

You seriously considered shoving him into a ditch.

When you reached the fencing area, Axilen got to work quickly while you awkwardly attempted helping. Except every few minutes he’d interrupt to hover over you.

“No, no—hold it like this.”

His hands covered yours from behind, warm and huge—rough palms against your skin.

You immediately stiffened.

Axilen noticed, and his expression softened instantly.

“You nervous ‘round me?”

“No.”

“You lyin’?”

“Yes.”

That actually made him laugh hard enough to bend forward slightly.

“Cute little thing.”

You hated how often he called you cute.

Or sweetheart.

Or pretty.

Or darlin’.

Every sentence out of his mouth sounded flirtatious somehow.

Even when he was talking normally his voice carried this low lazy warmth that made everything sound way too intimate.

At some point you sat beneath a tree for shade while drinking water, completely exhausted.

Axilen watched you openly while leaning against the fence.

“You know,” he said eventually, “ain’t never seen someone lookin’ so miserable.”

“Glad I could entertain you.”

“Oh, ya do.”

You frowned slightly.

Something about his tone changed, still warm, and still playful but heavier now.

His eyes lingered on your face too long.

“You got no idea what ya do t’ me.”

You stared at him cautiously.

Axilen smiled again, but this one was quieter, softer.

It should not have looked that intense after one day.

And by evening, everybody noticed Axilen hovering around you constantly. The older workers teased him relentlessly for it.

“Boy’s gone stupid already.”

“Ain’t seen him this lovestruck ever.”

“Careful, kid. He’ll follow ya home.”

They laughed.

Axilen didn’t deny it.

That was the concerning part.

Even during dinner at your father’s house, Axilen somehow ended up there too. Apparently helping neighbors often ate together around here. Unfortunately for you, that meant enduring his attention for another two hours.

He sat across from you staring constantly.

Your father found it hilarious.

Axilen found it mesmerizing whenever you got irritated enough to snap at him.

“You gonna keep starin’ all night?”

“Probably.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Ain’t no point lyin’ ‘bout pretty things."

His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before returning upward again.

His mama always told him to persist when he wanted something—and that was exactly what he was gonna do, just now the goal is you.

The air in the private academy’s library tasted of old paper, expensive leather, and the suffocating arrogance of generational wealth.

To Rican, the world had never been a complex web of human emotion or shared struggle. It was a ladder where everything and everyone was either beneath his feet or hoisted above his head.

He, naturally, existed on the highest of the high.

Born with what he fondly referred to as the holy trinity of existence—attractiveness, charisma that border-lined on hypnotic, and an amount of money that could buy a small nation—he had never once encountered the concept of difficulty.

The word "struggle" was a foreign sequence of vowels that simply did not apply to his universe.

And it definitely didn't apply for school either, not when it was like his personal playground.

His father had personally financed entire sports complexes and academic clubs just to ensure Rican’s boredom was kept at bay.

Life was flawless, a golden path laid out before him, except for one tiny thing.

Romantic interest.

Women flung themselves at his feet daily, but a quick, meaningless hookup was all he could muster.

And of course Rican took it upon himself to make it a mission to find someone who could be more than a hookup. (someone who could MAYBE give him a high-five trust)

His first attempt at finding love had been an utter disaster. It ending within thirty seconds when the girl’s voice proved to be a fraction too shrill for his ears, causing him to walk away mid-sentence without a backward glance.

The second target had shown promise until he cast his eyes downward and noticed the scuffed, criminanal sight of her off-brand loafers.

The mere sight of such poverty had induced a physical wave of nausea, forcing him to cross her off his list immediately.

But of course Rican was nothing if not persistent. Third time's the charm, right?

That was when his gaze had drifted to the back of your head.

You were cute, undeniable, but Rican didn't just want a doll—he wanted a prize that felt worthy of his high status.

To test the waters, he had casually slipped a crisp bill into the teacher's palm, ensuring that the seating chart for the semester's most intensive research project was altered.

The investment paid off instantly. Over the first few days, he discovered you were genuinely funny, easy to talk to, and possessed a face that perfectly aligned with his exact aesthetic preferences.

You, however, viewed the entire arrangement through a lens of profound skepticism.

You weren't naive. You knew how wealthy boys functioned.

So of course, you expected him to be arrogant, you expected him to be detached, and you fully expected him to eventually try and pawn all the project's actual research off on you.

What you did not expect, under any circumstances, was the warp-speed at which his brain apparently operated.

By the third day of the project, the casual banter had completely vanished, replaced by an intense, suffocating focus that made your skin prickle.

He could scoot closer to you, and stare at you even when you weren't speaking. It was becoming to the point where you were more shocked if he wasn't staring into your soul.

It was all little things just added up to eachother, like him cleaning the eraser dust off your lap faster than you could or him paying for your bus ride home and even more money so you could buy some food. (You never mentioned how you take the bus)

Then came the fourth day, and with it, the absolute pinnacle of his delusion.

He slid a gourmet bento box across the table toward you—a daily ritual he had aggressively started since the first day of pairing up—before leaning forward on his elbows.

His face was a picture of serene, absolute certainty as he uttered the words that made your entire brain grind to a screeching halt.

"How much for you to date me?"

You immediately froze.

"What?"

You weren't opposed to the concept of financial security, and like anyone else, you enjoyed the idea of having money. But just the sheer audacity of someone trying to buy you like a piece of livestock was completely uncalled for.

He didn't even look ashamed. He just sat there in his expensive chair, a massive, triumphant grin spreading across his face as if he had just offered you the deal of a lifetime, entirely blind to the look of sheer confusion freezing your features.

"Yes, like to have you," Rican clarified effortlessly, his voice dripping with a casual nonchalance that only made the situation a hundred times worse.

He leaned in a bit closer, his eyes bright with a terrifyingly possessive spark. "Preferably forever, and chained wrist to wrist to me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You looked around frantically, half-expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out from behind the fiction section, but there was nobody—just Rican and his completely unhinged, romantic delusions.

His smile only widened at your reaction, his head tilting to the side as he analyzed your expression with a creepy, clinical fascination.

"Your eyes look pretty, they're big right now," he mused, his voice dropping to a soft, delighted purr. "Is it because you're scared, or maybe excited? I really hope it's the second option."

"Rican, we've literally only known each other for like four days!" you hissed, leaning across the table to whisper-yell, desperately trying to keep your voice down so the librarian wouldn't wander over.

"What are you talking about? Dating? Where did that even come from?" You were genuinely baffled by the absolute lack of self-awareness.

How did rich people navigate the world so completely blind to the discomfort of others? How could he look at your pale, horrified face and see a green light for marriage proposals?

"Yeah, dating then marriage," he replied instantly, nodding his head as if he were explaining a very simple, chronological timeline to a child.

"Or we could just go straight to marriage and babies. But my tutor said it's more normal to become boyfriend and girlfriend first, so I'm trying to do it the traditional way."

You just stared at him. The sheer gravity of his insanity left you entirely speechless.

"I'll give you a weekly salary," he blurted out, misinterpreting your stunned silence as dissatisfaction with the terms.

You stared even more, your mouth slightly open, completely incapable of processing the words coming out of his mouth.

"Daily! Daily, instead?" he corrected frantically, his composure fracturing just a fraction as he leaned further over the table, his hands gripping the wood, desperate to seal the deal.

Your continued silence seemed to throw him into a spiral of panic, his mind incapable of understanding why a human being wouldn't immediately capitulate to the power of his wallet.

"Hourly?" he offered, his breath hitching.

"Every minute?" Rican pleaded, his voice dropping to a desperate, pathetic whine as he reached out, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab your hands.

"Please, I just need you."

eisnewisnshe any new requests yall omg this has been laying in my drafts for like more than 5 months

My dead girlfriend suddenly started attacking me!！！

YANDERE!IDOL x GN!READER — obsessive yandere / delusional yandere / cyberstalking / reader is a fan / just keep your eyes on him / for you, he’ll put on the most dazzling show

A/N: this is lowk so “1D notices u while performing bec ur ~not like the other girls~” coded LMFAO

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who lost the passion he had for his craft before he met you. His technique is undeniably flawless, but the ambition that had once burned bright within him has long since flickered away.

at this point it was turning into a real problem.

These guys treated this place like it was some type of club. they would loiter around the library like it was territory they were slowly calming. and they didn’t look easy to get rid of. they would laugh like hyenas and fog the air with the smoke of tobacco. the poor regulars can’t even read or study anymore.

and as a student assistant, it was your job to handle these types of situations—student to student.

sadly, each attempt to get them to at least move somewhere else, it all ended in a flunk. they either laughed in your face or ignored you entirely.

on top of that, that guy that helped you with the books was here again. and it wasn’t even raining like last time. each time you were on the clock he seemed to be there, standing in the corner of the room. people obviously found him unsettling, but he wasn’t that much of a bother. but for some reason, you always felt his stare on the back of your neck. weird.

you felt that unsettling stare beating on you head again when you—once again—attempted to talk to those boys. it wasn’t helping. and once again you returned to the library, defeated.

rumors started to spread about that group of boys. they spoke about how they got into a fight with only one student, and they all ended up bruised almost beyond recognition.

that only meant one thing.

you found him again, smoking behind a corner with a patch on his cheek.

You cleared your throat. he shot a glare at your direction. when his saw it was you, he turned away. “what is it.” his face was suddenly flushing red. he silently cursed to himself. that was way too embarrassing to let you see.

You smiled nervously. “was it you that got rid of those guys ?”

“yeah, so what ?” he removed his cigarette from his lips.

“you’re a savior. I didn’t think those guys would leave any time soon. You’re pretty tough.” you shrugged, your smile growing more sincere. “I mean, 3 guys at once. that’s impressive.”

he clicked his tongue, his permanent scowl settling in deeper. “hah, that was nothin’,” he smirked. but his voice was fading into a soft mumble. “go away. don’t thank me for something so dumb.” ahh…his heart was racing again, and it was rushing up to his head…

oh, he couldn’t wait to hear your praise again. he got rid of them for you after all. and he would get rid of the whole school if it meant he could hear all the sweet praises you had for him…dogs do like praise after all.

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

(He’s a fucking loser but he’s hot and down bad. And a total virgin.)

You didn’t expect to fuck him.

He’s a little too quiet. A little too intense. The guy who watches you like you invented the color red. Always hovering at the edges of rooms, starving. Your voice makes him flinch. Your body makes him twitch.

You noticed it—how he always seemed to know your schedule before you did. How he’d bump into you too often.

You weren’t supposed to say yes.

But tonight? You were bored.

Curious. Cruel.

You whispered: “Fine. Let’s see if you’re as desperate as you look.”

And now?

You’re between his legs. Back against his chest. Your thighs spread. His hands all over you. His breath is already ragged. You haven’t even touched him.

He’s got one hand sliding between your thighs, the other palming your breast like he doesn’t know whether to squeeze or sob. You feel the tremble in his fingers—the awe, the disbelief.

His thumb finds your clit and he gasps. You’re soaked. For him.

“Oh my god,” he whispers into your neck. “You’re really letting me—fuck—you’re actually—” He cuts off with a choked moan, his lips dragging over your skin, his teeth scraping your shoulder like he wants to bite, but doesn’t dare.

He rubs you with shaky, frantic circles. Clumsy, but desperate. Desperate to please you. To make you cum. To make it count.

“You’re so soft—so warm—so wet, holy fuck-I’ve thought about this every night since I first saw you. I know your scent. I fucking know the way your heels sound in the hallway—”

You arch your back, lips parting. He moans—like you’re hurting him just by existing.

“You let me touch you… You don’t know what that does to me, Bunny. I’d kill someone if they even looked at this pussy now. You understand that?”

He’s rubbing harder now, his breath catching every time your hips twitch. His other hand slides down to your stomach, pressing you back into his lap so you feel how hard he is.

“You can’t leave after this. I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

You cum hard.

Harder than you meant to. Harder than you should, considering the freak behind you.

Your head falls back on his shoulder.

Your whole body tenses—legs shaking, clit throbbing against his fingers as you grind against his palm. You cry out. And he moans with you. Louder. Needier. Like your orgasm is his.

“Yes. Yes—fuck—thank you. Thank you for letting me. Thank you—thank you—thank you—*”

He’s crying. Literally. Holding you like you’re a fever dream and the second he lets go, you’ll disappear.

“I can die now,” he whispers.

! MDNI !

Pairing : Yandere Bully (Kaino) x Male Crossdresser Reader

Author's Note : not sure if i can call this a part 3 since it isn't exactly a fic, but here's a quick scenario showcasing how Kaino would react if a new person were to try to enter your life.

PART 1 | PART 2 | requests

! MDNI !

Pairing : Yandere Bully x Male Crossdresser Reader

Content Warning : dubcon, bullying (verbal and physical), general yandere behavior

Author's Note : finally finished writing. never expected to write so much since this was supposed to be a quick fic lol T-T anyways, enjoy reading, my inbox is also open for requests!

PART 1 | PART 3 | requests

“hah fuck… stop tryin’ to run, sweetheart,” his voice is a rasp, eyes blown wide, grin feral and crazed. his blindfold hangs around his neck, hair mussed.

you don’t know what got into your husband, but it was barely a few seconds before he had teleported the two of you to bed once he got home. a mess of clothes being torn off and your legs being spread apart, his lips on yours, messy and hot. depraved.

and now, he’s inching his aching cock into you from behind, stretching you out so deliciously with each second that goes by, shovelling his tip through your insides and kissing your deepest spots so sloppily.

you gush around him, whining his name, fingers grabbing at the sheets desperately as your walls spasm around him. he delivers, deep, harsh thrusts. so full of determination. charged with something completely different to all the other times he’s fucked you. his groans are rough, breathy and ragged, chest heaving with effort as he drives into you.

“‘t-toru… oh god,” you moan, muffling your cries into the bed as he doesn’t relent, hips snapping into your ass. “slow down-- mmph fuck…”

your body subconsciously tries to crawl up the ridiculously expensive and large bed, trying to get away from the overwhelming pleasure. a mix of pain and bliss from his merciless thrusts that make your eyes roll back.

then, suddenly you feel yourself getting pushed into the mattress by a force. not your husband’s sweaty body. his hands are grasping at your waist but they aren’t holding you down. no, it’s something else entirely.

his body follows yours, chest flush against your back and he’s moaning in your ear. his thrusts are simultaneously sloppy and calculated. bludgeoning each and every sensitive spot but he moves his hips like an animal in heat, rutting into you.

“s-satoru… what--” you cut yourself off with a soft gasp, when you turn your head to look behind you, energy buzzing around him, his eyes glowing.

“i said stop running, wifey,” he pants against your neck. “just take it, take it, fucking take it.”

he flips you over onto your back, immediately pushing your legs up into your chest, folding you as he pleases, treating you like you weigh nothing. you’re still pinned to the bed with the help of his cursed energy, unable to do anything but squirm and cry out his name until he reduces you to a mess of slick and tears.

you claw at his back, eliciting a soft grunt from him, as he drives deeper and deeper. the sharpness of his pelvis rubs against your twitching nub just right each time his hips meet yours, and you coat his cock in fresh slick, drooling all over him and the sheets.

“so fucking wet f’me. bet this sweet little pussy wants to be bred, huh?” he mutters, trailing hot kisses down your neck and to your chest, teeth grazing your skin. “wanna give me an heir, wife?”

you choke out a moan, back arching, when the curve of his cock caresses that spongey spot. and again, again, again. you half believe that he’s using six eyes to keep drilling into it, but you’re barely coherent at this point.

you nod dumbly in response to his question. “wanna-- fuck, ‘toru… wanna give you an heir. w-want you to fill me up,” you babble through whines and pitched mewls.

and his grin somehow widens. the way he pushes his hips into yours becomes more desperate, eager. your words egging him on. “yeaaahhh, that’s it. my sweet girl. gonna take it alll for me, aren’t you?”

“please, ‘toru, want it so so bad.” you clench around him at the thought and he groans, cock pulsing within the confines of your plush walls.

“you want it so bad, huh? awh, don’t worry, ‘toru’s got you. just lay pretty for me, ‘kay?”

a/n: i literally wrote this so fast thanks to this idea 🫶🏽 (not proofread hazel is sleepy goodnight)

satoru gojo, the man whom you had given your heart to after he had been courting you for two months. at first, it didn’t make sense to you nor your friends.

satoru gojo, the man in the fraternity, who would ingest vodka in a shot while having a marlboro adorning his fingers.

satoru gojo, who would be known to satisfy himself to the exploding basses of incoherent music, flashes of purple, green and red lights embracing his party freak nature.

satoru gojo who would have a (new) girl every week, her grasping on to his sturdy forearm as they stumbled in to cramped dorms.

satoru gojo, who had the reputation of being a charmer who couldn’t obtain a relationship— not because there was something lacking within him, but, because he never understood the importance of having some sort of romantic established connection.

so, you did wonder as to why satoru would try to get your attention, your time, your words. you were nothing like him.

in fact, you guys were truly polar opposites. your faculties didn’t align (he was in business, you were in humanities), your personalities didn’t align (he was an extrovert, you were an introvert) and most of all, your reputation (he was a fraternity member, you were known as the quiet, shy girl who refrained from engaging with men without necessity).

so, truly, how did it get here?

where your cheeks were pressed on to the mellow cotton of the pillow. where the white sheets of the bed were heavily wrinkled because of the way you clenched it within your fists. where you tried to mutter out his name in any way possible, “sa-satoru—mhm”. where you didn’t know if you wanted him to slow his pace down or keep going at this rate like a brute animal.

his cock was expanding in your hole it seemed, the firm veins were pulsating against your plush walls. his tip, the oh so pink tinted head of his cock you had come to love was stimulating your cervix. his balls were slapping on to your pounded pussy while both his hands held on to your waist, preventing you to move from the maddening position he had you in.

you felt it. his hands had shifted. one of them, framed with veins, had come around to feel the bulge on your womb— signifying to you, that he was in you, too deep. while the other hand spread its large palm on one of your ass cheeks.

“fuck yeah doll, wan’ me to put a baby in this huh?” he groaned, his breath cutting between the words. “wan’ me to, fuck, make you full? leakin’ from me? shit just say yes baby.” you had rested your flustered cheek on to the pillow, your iris moving to the corner to see him. god. he was a vision of pure ecstasy. his white hair too frivolous, the bangs had been plastered on to sweaty forehand, his chest heaving with red scratches from the previous sessions.

you saw the bridge too, not vivid, just a slight blur but enough to make blood rush hastily into your face. creamy paste clustered around the rim of his cock, the base was too slimy, an evidence of the lustrous passion. “no one’s havin’ you like this, fuck, only me. only me. only” he groaned as he slapped against your rim faster and faster.

“shit, i swear i’m gonna marry you, my wife” “need you, ugh, in the mornin’s, noons and nights in my fucking house ’nd my fucked up life” he wouldn’t shut up, not at all. his groans gritted. his voice going sore.

“nobody gets this. this pussy. this body. no one will have you. no one” his breath cut hard. you gasped as he hit the spot too perfect, his entire length inside you. he was ramming into you as his fingers gathered both your dainty wrists behind your back in a single grip.

slap sounds of his skin meeting yours echoed too loud. tomorrow might be awkward with your neighbors.

“i’m never leavin’ you, ngh, never. yer’ not goin’ anywhere from me” he was close, you could tell. his thrusts were way faster now, too fast. rapid with the way he moved while biting his lower lips, plumper shade of red now.

you had already came earlier than him while he had to remove himself and stroke to milk out even the littlest remaining bit.

you were gasping, for air and dissatisfaction from the loss of contact. he was too rough today, contrasting to his usual self— the sweet, the careful and the softly doting.

his clammy palm had slithered its way on to your waist, turning you around. your back on the mattress, your front to his view. you noted around. clothes scattered on floor while the condom box sat lonely on the bedside table because satoru wanted to go raw this time, just to “feel you”.

satoru had finished wiping you with the wet towel, throwing it on the little table, knocking off the durex box. he planted himself beside, close. too close like he wanted to be your second skin. his head rested low on to your chest as you giggled. he had always been very clingy after sex. always liked having his hair played with by you. only you.

“was something wrong today? you were a bit .. rough..” you tentatively asked with a shy gaze on to him, only able to see the slope of his nose and the outline of his lips. he scrambled deeper in to your embrace, his breath exhaling on your spent nipple making you shiver.

“no, just, i love you. so fucking much” it was true. he did love you. you were his first girlfriend in a long time, since middle school.

he loved you. completely and irrevocably.

hence, it haunted him. what if you found out?

what if you found out that the two of you existed together only because of a stupid bet made between him and his friends during an alcoholic stupor.

drinks paid for the whole year if he took your virginity.