clitorisobliterator

[clitorisobliterator]

Hide and Seek

{pairing: yandere!dabi x reader}

{yandere, death}

Sorry this one is shorter! I just wanted to get a small little thing out to establish Yandere Dabi as I plan to write for him some more!

~~~

Bright blue flames filled your vision as the once twilight sky turned ash gray from all the smoke. Your lungs burned as all you saw around you was the charred bodies of your once coworkers. You were all just talking during lunch break, you didn’t expect to see them all dead before you.

You were inside your workplace, the walls around you being mostly glass as it was on a high story. It seemed to be a normal day until flames consumed the lower parts of the building, shattered glass and hot fire all over the place.

Footsteps echoed as boots clicked on the tiled floors. Chills ran down your spine as you heard the footsteps get closer and closer until they boomed in your head.

“Come on, doll. Don’t make me have to burn more bodies.”

That deep voice made your head spin. The tone was a calm one, flirtatious if any. However, the words held more threats in them. Was he talking to you? You weren’t sure about that. You were sure on staying underneath the office desk and hide from the monster that caused all this.

“Oh, hide and seek? Is it your favorite game?”

It took everything in you not to let out a noise. You could see the toe of his boots from underneath the desk. He was right there, a foot at most from you.

“Well this seeker is getting bored. I know what I’ll do…”

He moved again and his dark voice chuckled.

“Three…”

He grew closer and started to round the corner of the desk.

“Two…”

He stopped right behind the desk, his feet being just inches away from your balled up form.

“One.”

His face popped under the desk, shocking you. Burns ran across the bottom part of his face and also his ears. Parts under his eyes also appeared to be burnt. Staples held the skin up. The sight scared you enough to where you started to scream until a hand covered your mouth, another grabbing the back of your head and pushing you closer to him.

“Found you.”

He smirked. You tried to scream. He stopped you.

“Oh? Does my little darling not want to see me…? Such a shame…”

He scooped you up from under the desk, carrying you like it was nothing.

“About time I took what was mine.”

[clitorisobliterator]

Hide-And-Seek (Yandere DabixReader)

it’s the return of my favorite little firebender

           In and out, you told yourself, in and out. You could feel your fear pressed against your mouth and nose, leaving you with the instinctive urge to claw your terror off of you. But the part of you that was somehow still in command, the part concerned with your survival, forced your hands to stay pressed against the cold, dirty floor. Hiding behind a collection of dust-ridden crates, you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to summon the focus that came paired with pain. You would need to move, and soon, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stir without seeing a path that you could follow. You needed your mind to test the waters for you, run through the possibilities and break up the abstract idea of escape into something tangible. No such strategy came to you though, making it seem that you were trapped, not just by your pursuer, but by your own dread.

           From the other side of the warehouse’s thin walls, you could hear something moving outside. The footsteps were slow, deliberate, almost teasing in their casual tone. The sound of them echoed through your bones as you desperately tried to keep yourself calm. They could be anything, you reasoned, a cat, a passerby, anything. Constructing this shaky shelter brick by foolish brick, you felt it crumble in your hands at the sound of a sickeningly familiar voice.

           “As much fun as this game is,” he called out, voice traveling through the cracks in the boarded up windows, “I think it’s about time we went home.” When you heard his voice, you quickly suffocated your breaths, convinced that the smallest noise or the even a too-loud thought would lead him to you. It was as if you were a little kid again, refusing to let yourself move for fear that if you did, the monsters in the shadows would be able to find you, take you.

           Dimly, you could hear him moving along the alleyway that lay on the other side of your insubstantial barrier. It almost seemed as though you could feel the heat of his body as he proceeded to the back of the building, that if you simply put your hand to the wall, you would be able to trace his outline. His heat began to claw at you, leaving behind phantom scrapes all over your skin.  Once he had moved further away from you, the animalistic instinct to run, to continue putting as much distance between you and your hunter as possible, started to hiss through your veins. But somewhere within you, you knew that that was what he was waiting for.

           “Aren’t you getting tired of hide-and-seek, little mouse?” he asked, as though he had plucked the very thoughts from your head. “I know I am.” You closed your eyes tightly in response to his words, needing to block him out in any way that you could. As he continued to bait and taunt you, eventually circling all the way to the building’s front entrance, you tried to tuck yourself away where you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but his words demanded your attention. The sensation of being suffocated was rising again, this time the fear filling your throat until it overflowed. Beginning to grow faint, you opened your eyes.

           Instead of being greeted with the sight of the neglected warehouse though, you were met with a twisting storm of smoke and flame. Appearing as though a frustrated artist had come along and poured his paint onto a dark canvas, the building was now splattered with arching blue flames and unspooling black smoke. The actual fire had yet to reach you, but it was only a matter of time, and the smoke had already come for you. Tucking your mouth and nose under your shirt, you peered around for a possible escape route. But as you did so, you realized how artfully the flames had been placed. Your pursuer had started them at all of the back and side doors, leaving you with no viable exit other than the one that he guarded.

           Refusing to accept defeat, you stood, and were hit by a wave of dizziness as your lungs took in the smoke. Finding a window, you ran towards it and tried to break apart the wood with the force of the impact. Your attempt was unsuccessful though, and you could feel yourself growing weaker as your body’s last stores of oxygen began to leave you. Subconsciously, you started to move towards the front entrance, stumbling with each step. Some distant part of you cried out against what you were doing, but your body’s much more primal urges had taken control. You were a ship without a crew, simply being pushed along by the current you had found yourself trapped in.

           Finally reaching the last remaining door, you fell through the threshold into a pair of expectant arms. Choking down whatever fresh air you could find, you watched remotely as your captor smirked down at you. You found yourself unable to look away from his bright blue eyes, their shade a clear reflection of the flames they held.

           “Poor little thing,” Dabi crooned mockingly. “You could have been hurt. It’s a good thing I was here.” You didn’t respond, mind still fogged by smoke, and only blinked dully as Dabi brushed his lips against your forehead. Then, almost gently, he picked you up and held you tightly against him, carrying you back home.

[clitorisobliterator]

Lizzaneia's Grimoire of Yandere Men

Here's a masterlist of my yanderes! It will be updated regularly whenever a prompt or fic will be posted.

RULES FOR REQUESTING: Here

YANDERE MEN SECOND SET : HERE

(I separated the second set since the photo got capped already ^^)

ALL YANDERE MEN SET 1

RANKING REQ: The yanderes as fathers

SCENARIO REQ: The Yanderes with their yandere children

RANKING REQ: The yanderes and your period

SCENARIO REQ: The yanderes and their dream date

SCENARIO REQ: The yanderes and their Choice of Outfit for You

SCENARIO REQ: The Yanderes and their Darling's lonely birthday

ALL YANDERE OC ASKS AND WRITER ASKS

Top 3 yandere men (my OCs) when it comes to jealousy

ask: How would I define yandere?

Which OCs inherited their yandere-ness/Has yandere-ness in their genes?

My top 3 yanderes

YANDERE VERSION OF FANDOM CHARACTERS

Yandere! Neuvillette (Genshin)

Yandere! Solomon (Obey Me)

yandere! Artist Arlen

main fic

yandere! artist and his muse

Yandere! Dragon Vincent

main fic

Req: Yandere tidbits: flying

Yandere! Theater Actor Ignatius

main fic

ask: Soooo does this mean Ignatius got roleplay k!nk??

What if: reader is an otaku?

Yandere! Butler Zero

main fic

Yandere! Sugar Daddy Rowan

main fic

ask: Rowan can spoil me anytime :)

ask: Just read yandere sugar daddy AND GOD!! Plz do part 2. I want to see them dating🫣

REQ: Yandere! Jock Damon

main fic (also had voice headcannons for the previous yan men)

Req: WHAT IF: Reader is a black belter in martial arts?

Ask: what if the reader doesn't like Damon's himbo personality?

Ask: What if Damon drops his facade?

Req: ask of a What if: Black belter reader met somebody else in the promotional test?

Req: Yandere tidbit: achievements

What if: darling posts a thirst trap?

Req: Yandere tidbit: Reward system

REQ: Yandere! Assassin Azrael

main fic

req:yandere! Assassin and his conglomerate girlfriend

ask: oh. hm.. so. Azrael right? So he gonna tear us down eh?-- What would happen next 🤡?

ask: I'm actually scared for yan!assassin mc.......

Yandere! Ex-boyfriend Lee

main fic

Req: WHAT IF: Reader is now a husk?

Req: WHAT IF: Reader knows how to protect themselves?

Yandere! Cowboy Knoxx

main fic

Req: WHAT IF: Darling goes back to the city?

Req: WHAT IF: The reader goes back to the city, but this time with Knoxx?

Req: What if of a WHAT IF: Reader becomes a broken husk after the baby trapping?

Yandere! Emo Ashton

main fic

req: Yandere! Emo and his beloved popular bitch

REQ: Yandere! Werewolf Lyall

main fic

Req: Yandere tidbit: Knitting

Yandere! Ex-husband Iñigo

main fic

Req: WHAT IF: You refused to marry him?

REQ: Yandere! hospital chairperson Xavier

main fic

Req: WHAT IF: Darling got sick?

REQ: Yandere! Villain Eros

main fic

ask: Darling avoids Eros turned Part 2

REQ: Yandere! Politician Maximus

main fic

REQ: Yandere! Mafia boss Hades

main fic

Req: WHAT IF: Reader is a rebel type?

Req: WHAT IF: Reader is "cheating"?

[clitorisobliterator]

The winner of this week's poll was... Yandere Murderer/Serial Killer!

Includes: murder (not darling), nsfw (not with darling), stalking, a little fluff, cameras

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer that had planned to kill you as his next victim.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stalks you to figure out your routine to find when you're most vulnerable, but he ends up finding you cute.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't kill you right away just for his entertainment, he wants to figure out what makes you tick and use it against you. you're so cute when you're angry!

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to see you as an actual person and not just someone for him to kill, which is a first.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to really like you, who waits until you're not at home before installing discreet cameras in your house.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you in his free time, every second of it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who touches himself when you do, zooming in on your hand on your genitals.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to leave you little gifts. your favorite candy bar? you suddenly have one. you like a certain animal? you have a new plushie. you wanna watch a movie? you suddenly have the DVD. he loves seeing your face light up every time you get a gift.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels enraged when someone picks on you. how fucking dare they! they should be hung on a meat hook like the animal they are!

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels his heart sink when he sees the look on your face when you find the body of the person, he wanted to comfort you. he would be more careful hiding the bodies now. there's also an onslaught of gifts the next day.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who finally, finally decides to take you. he makes sure he's gentle with you, he doesn't dare inject you with anything, he uses a simple cloth dipped in chloroform. he doesn't want to restrain you, but he's scared you'll run off.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who holds you until you wake up, rocking you gently.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who's genuinely so happy to have you now, even if you're scared or don't like him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who showers you in gifts and love, who cuddles you while still respecting your personal space. he doesn't dare to force you into anything with him, he loves you too much.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't stop trying, who waits patiently for your love even if it hurts him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stops killing people for you, he knows you don't like it and he doesn't like how scared it makes you.

If you end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he immediately starts breaking down in happy tears. he's clinging to you, burying his head in your neck or chest, desperately kissing anything he can. he's so goddamn happy, he's waited so long for this.

If you don't end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he'll just wait, he needs you to love him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How was this for my first fic? Feel free to ask for expansions of this idea, like darlings that act in a certain way. Mean, willing, scared, etc..

~🐈‍⬛

[clitorisobliterator]

Yandere Serial Killer(s)

Your mother always warned you to never give rides to strangers, but the hitchhiker you run into seems harmless. What's the worst that can happen? Tags: implied noncon

Things originally start well. You and your buddies piled into your roommate's Jeep, roof down, pop music blasting. You're the driver - always the responsible one - hair tied back and sunglasses on the edge of your nose. You're all dressed for summer. Bikini tops and board shorts, smeared with sunscreen - the picture of college fun.

It starts well and keeps going even better. You're all in high spirits. Flushed and happy and young. Picking up the hitchhiker seems like a good idea. You see that he's handsome and around your age, that he's got an easy smile and a guitar on his back. You see that and nothing else. Not the too quick eyes, not the surprisingly light backback. Nothing.

He ends up riding shotgun, talking to you about classes and shitty professors. Smiling just a little every time you shift gears and your hand brushes his thigh.

You like him. You're the only single in the car so it's natural that he spends the most time talking to you. Lord knows it's hard to keep a conversation going with a couple when they look like they'd rather be tonsil deep in each other's throats.

You like him and you get the feeling he likes you too. When you stop at a sleazy motel for the night, he invites you to eat dinner with him outside his room. All your friends are off doing what couples do best - getting cosy in the hot tub, testing the speeds on the vibrating bed, finding new and interesting ways to use the ice machine. So you're glad for the company.

Mostly.

You're almost done eating when he pops the question.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

You look away from him. Take in the greasy boxes of takeout on the concrete, the neon red wash of the vacancy sign spelling across the parking lot. It's not an easy question. It brings up ugly memories.

"I used to have one. Things ended...badly. He's in Cook County Corrections now. Serving fifty to life."

He gives a low whistle.

"That bad huh? You ever go to see him?"

"No. Never."

He stretches out, folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the dull scattering of stars.

"You should. It gets lonely in there. A guy could use the pick me up, especially if the visitor is a pretty thing like you."

You shiver despite the balmy summer air.

"I'd rather not. I'll be happy to never see his face again."

Thankfully, he drops the subject. You go back to talking about awful first dates and the best dishes to order at a Chinese restaurant. He's a complete gentleman but you can't help the slight relief you feel when he stands to leave.

" 'Night gorgeous."

"Good night, stranger."

In the morning you walk out to see him reading the early paper. He crumples and tosses it before you can catch the headline.

" 'Morning. How did you sleep?"

You shrug. "Not the best. I swear these kinds of places all get their beds from the same supplier. Lumpy Mattresses Inc."

He grins. "Don't forget their trusty partner Damp and Musty Carpets LTD."

Your friends are slow to wake up and groggy when they do. Most of them nursing nasty hangovers. You and the hitchhiker have most of the morning to eat breakfast and shoot the breeze together. When it's time to leave, he takes his place in the passenger seat like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I couldn't find any newspapers," one of your friends complains when you're back on the road.  

"I wanted to see the football results."

"Eagles beats the Rams in the final playoff," the hitchhiker says.

"Aww man. Where'd you get a paper from?"

"I must have gotten lucky. Staff is 'sposed to leave the local paper at reception. Guess they must not have the budget anymore."

You stay quiet but something doesn't feel quite right about that statement.

The day passes fast. Your playlist is a lot more mellow, on account of the many lingering headaches. Still, you think there's nothing quite as fine as the open road. It's only near evening when the trouble starts.

"Shit. I can't find our reservations."

You look at your friends in the rear view mirror. They've already pulled apart two backpacks trying to find the papers. You can't help feeling irritated. The one thing you asked them to take care of...

You pull over and search the Jeep from top to bottom. Unpack almost everything. Check and then recheck your pockets. Nothing.

"I'm really sorry y/n. On the phone they said we needed the copies to check in. Maybe we can still stop by and get it sorted with the front desk but..."

You can here the unspoken thought in their words. You're all thinking the same thing - that hotels can get so uptight when their potential guests are rowdy students with still bloodshot eyes. You worry at your nail, thinking. You paid the fees in advance so maybe if you showed them your credit card...

"My friend has a cabin not far from here," the hitchhiker says. "Pretty big place. He'd be happy to let us crash there for the night."

You bite your lip. It's a two hour drive to the hotel. And if they turn you away you'll be off the beaten path with almost no cash, on a near empty petrol tank.

"You think he'd mind letting us sleep on his couch?" you ask. "We'll be well-behaved and I can pay."

He smiles at you, totally easy going about the whole thing.

"Sure we'll just have to call ahead."

You manage to track down a payphone and you wait with the rest of your crew while he calls. You can't make out what he's saying but every once in a while his eyes drift to you. No one else. Just you.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was talking about you.

When he puts the receiver down, he's all smiles.

"Got it all sorted. It's out of the way though, so I reckon we grab some chow first."

Your friends are quick to agree. What self respecting kid on spring break is going to say no to fast food and cold beer? It's only you that lingers, brow furrowed. It all feels too convenient. Your reservations go missing and the stranger you picked up just happens to have a place nearby? No way. The more you think about, it the stranger it seems.

You're still lost in thought when the hitchhiker swings an arm around your shoulders and half drags you along behind your friends.

"What's you got you so worried gorgeous?"

It's hard to be suspicious of him when he smile so easy, his shaggy brown hair dancing across his forehead.

"Nothing. I just hate to intrude on your friend."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go.

"Trust me he'll be very glad for the company. He doesn't get out much."

He pulls the diner door open for you. Your friends have already claimed a booth and a single harried waitress is struggling to jot down their long list of requests. The hitchhiker grabs your hand before you can join them.

"My friend is a great guy. I think you'll like him."

He smiles, crooked and amused, like he's laughing at a joke only he understands.

"Hell, I know for a fact that he'll like you. You're just his type."

Your smile is tight. The last guy who said you were just his type... well, you and the district attorney both know how that ended.

You take a seat and smile at the waitress. She looks beyond overwhelmed and you silently promise to tip her as well as your half drained credit card can manage.

"I'll take a steak. Rare. Bloody as you can make it," the hitchhiker says.

You raise your brows. Not exactly the typical order for an out of the way little diner. He sees your look and grins.

"Been a while without good meat. You have no idea the craving I've had this past few days."

The booth is packed tight and his thigh is flush against yours. Warm, even though his jeans.

"We all get cravings now and again. I get it."

He tilts his head at you and it must be a trick of the light, because his pupils are blown out wide. It looks like you're staring into oil. Just... emptier somehow. You wouldn't go so far as to say he feels soulless, but if it's not in the same street it sure as hell is in the same neighbourhood. Like oil, it leaves you feeling dirty in a way that doesn't easily scrub off.

"Do you?" he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to say something along the lines of I'm only human and of course I do but his eyes stop you. He isn't talking about food or meat. No. It feels like he's asking about flesh.

One of your friends cracks a joke and you turn away from him in a hurry, pretending to laugh at something you only half heard. You don't talk to him for the rest of the meal. Try to avoid looking him even. But you can't avoid the feel of his leg against yours. Warm and solid. Can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he reaches for his wallet and his fingers accidentally scrape you inner thigh.

You're the last one out of the diner. You throw away the dirty napkins and, true to your word, tip the waitress as well as you can manage. You're half afraid that he might wait for you, but when the door clicks shut behind you, you see him with the rest of your friends. Joking around with some of the boys.

The second you start towards them, his eyes fix on yours. You aren't sure how he does it - always narrowing in on you like you have your own gravitational pull. Like he's aware of your every move.

"Ready to go?"

Are you? You aren't sure. Some dull instinct is making you want to turn tail and run. You try and talk yourself out of it. What concrete evidence do you have? What has he done wrong, besides be a little intense? Folk do that all the time and it doesn't bother you. And it's not like you'll be alone. Your whole pack of friends will be right next to you.

"Yeah, let's go. Time doesn't wait for anyone."

It's a long drive. The highway splitting off into a main road and then splintering into a half-dozen country tracks. By the time you arrive, you're beyond grateful for choosing the Jeep. Heaven alone knows how much more jostling and bouncing your teeth could take.

It's a nice place. A big cabin out in a clearing, the trees thick for miles around. Much nicer than the crummy hotel you'd otherwise have to settle for. You can't even hear the traffic.

Your friends grab their bags and the hitchhiker holds the front door open as you all file in. The entryway is clean and bright, and besides the lingering tang of bleach, there's nothing to set your suspicions racing. Honestly, you feel a little silly for being so paranoid. Must be the bad memories. They make you jumpy regardless of actual circumstances.

"Where's your friend?"

You turn just in time to see the hitchhiker slipping something small and metallic into his pocket.

"Is that the key for the -"

"My friend will be here soon," he talks over you, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I'll show you guys your rooms and once you get settled, we can grab some beers and hit the hot tub."

He brushes past you and ignores your half-hearted grab for his arm. Your friends are already pounding up the stairs, too hyped to notice your expression. He pauses on the landing and looks back at you - the only one still standing by the door. His eyes are bright and almost hard.

"You coming?"

Nothing to be scared of, right? It's a common habit to lock the front door, especially out in the woods.

"Yep. Right behind you."

But no matter what you tell yourself, your feet still drag along when you follow him deeper into the cabin. Further and further from escape.

You're the only one who gets a room of their own. Everyone else is piled two and three deep in the guest rooms, half your buddies on couches more than beds.

You're also the last to get a room, so by the time he shows you your bed, it's only you and him. You wonder if he planned it on purpose.

"Quiet out here."

He hums in agreement, standing at your window and watching the woods. He stays silent while you unpack. Whatever he's watching for takes all his attention.

It's only when you hear your friends start splashing around in the hot tub that he speaks.

"You should probably take a shower before anyone else. The water is unreliable out here."

You silently agree. It's s been a long day, and while a quick dip in the jacuzzi sounds good, a hot shower and a cool bed sound even better. He pauses at your bedroom door to say good night. You're already heading to the bathroom and you only half hear the rest of his sentence.

"Sleep tight. And don't worry too much about any noises you hear. There's mountain lions around and the sound carries funny sometimes."

He closes your door softly behind him. Your en-suite is echoey, and when you turn on the water, you don't hear the quiet click of him locking you in.

After your shower, you're totally exhausted. You don't even bother leaving your room to check on your friends. You just curl up under your borrowed duvet and drift off. When you half wake at three in the morning to the dying echo of a scream, you mutter something about mountain lions and fall right back to sleep.

You don't see it but the figure in the corner of your room smiles. Moonlight catching for a split second on the butcher's knife in his hand.

"You always were a deep sleeper, baby. Can never remember your dreams."

Morning comes fast after that. When you wake, the only evidence of your midnight visitor is a slightly misplaced pair of sneakers that you're too drowsy to notice.

Your room door opens easily and you're half way down the stairs before you even start to wonder where your friends are.

Still sleeping probably. Had a late night.

The only sign that someone else is awake is a half empty pot of coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. You don't really feel comfortable rooting around in someone else's kitchen, but the hitchhiker did say to help yourself... You end up snatching a small Greek yogurt from the fridge and taking it out to the porch.

The forest is alive with bird song, dew still melting in the grass. It's peaceful. Tranquil. For the first time, you're entirely happy that you accepted the hitchhiker's offer.

The only thing that disrupts the picture perfect scene is a single discarded sneaker, thick with mud and left right in the middle of the yard.

You sigh. Did one of your friends really lose a whole shoe and not notice? You pick it up and knock the worst of the mud off.

So much for being well-behaved. You'll have to check over the whole place before you leave, make sure they haven't somehow tanked to the property value. The edges of the laces are stained a rusty red but you chalk it up to spilled wine or something.

You drop the shoe at the door and make your way back into the kitchen. It takes some searching but you finally find the dustbin, half hidden in a cupboard. Ugh, why do rich people always have to hide the trash away in the most obscure places?

Yesterday's paper is shoved under some tea bags, the edges of the front page barely visible.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY

You frown, you gut suddenly nauseous and rolling. You dig the newspaper out of the trash. Slowly. Hesitantly. Amost afraid that the reality will be twice as bad as your suspicions. There's a massive stain on the front but you can still read the print clearly.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY CORRECTIONS. MANHUNT UNDERWAY.

You don't bother to read the article. The pictures alone tell you everything. You feel sick enough to faint.

You didn't think you'd ever see his face again, but here it is. Mugshot slightly blurry and the ink starting to run. Scowling at the camera like he's more pissed at being caught than anything else.

Your ex boyfriend.

You might have been fine if it was just him. Might have called the DA and the lead homicide detective, begged for witness protection. But trouble never visits without company. There's another mugshot under his, this one captioned Serial Arsonist & Convicted Killer.

The hitchhiker wasn't smiling when the cops lined him up for his red carpet shoot. His eyes are as black and empty in his mugshot as they were last night. When he looked at you and said he was craving meat. Meat.

You might have laughed if you didn't think you were about to vomit. Yeah, he was probably craving meat alright. The roasted and still screaming kind.

You drop the newspaper, hands shaking so bad you can't hold onto it even if you wanted to.

"I told him to take out the trash. But does he listen?"

You whirl around. The hitchhiker is blocking the back door and holding your friend's lost sneaker, rolling the stained laces between his fingers.

"Thanks for grabbing this, gorgeous. If we missed it, the pigs would be back on our asses in no time."

You run.

You don't bother hearing him out or rationalising. You turn away from him and bolt straight for the front door.

You almost make it.

Your fingers just brush the metal of the doorknob before someone grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you towards them, hard enough that you end up on your back. Winded. Your scalp burning.

"Gonna leave without even saying hello? C'mon baby, is that how you greet your man?"

Your boyfriend is standing above you, smirking like this is all a game. He's still in his prison jumpsuit, the sleeves knotted around his waist. He's wearing a white tank and one glance is enough to tell you that prison has been great for his gym journey. His muscles - always toned to begin with - are positively huge.

He's always been strong, but the sight of him like this has your heart racing. How much harder can he hit, with all that extra bulk to back him up?

He slams you back onto the floor when you move to get up, his boot pressing into your sternum so hard you can almost hear your bones creaking.

"Aww, don't get up baby. Let's just talk. We've got so much to catch up on."

He presses his heel into you. Hard enough that you can't breathe out it hurting.

"Where to start... Oh, I know! Have you fucked anyone else while I've been gone? Gotten yourself a new man? Who's been between your legs while I've. Been. Rotting. Away?"

He punctuates his sentence with sharp jabs of his boot.

"No one," you managed to choke out. "Didn't have anybody."

He takes his boot off your chest and you suck in a painful breath, your lungs and ribs on fire. You roll onto you hands and knees, coughing.

Shit. Fuck.

He squats down so he's level with you, voice a sickly sweet drawl.

"You promise?"

"I-" Another painful coughing fit. "I swear. No one else."

"I don't know if I can believe you, baby. You said you loved me, and then you ratted on me to the cops. Not the best record."

He grabs your hair and hauls you to your feet, totally unbothered that you still can't breathe right.

You shriek and try to pull away, only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and pin you against his chest.

He squeezes hard enough that your larynx feels like it's going to collapse.

"What do you think I should do?"

You think he's asking you, but it's the hitchhiker that answers. He's leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed like he's watching two kittens at play rather than seeing your boyfriend almost choke the life out of you.

"I reckon we should check. Her cunt should be all tight and wet after months without cock. And if it isn't...well, there's your answer."

"You hear that baby? We're gonna make sure you've been well behaved."

We?

You start fighting all the harder. One murderer is enough. You don't want both their hands on you. You'll never be able to scrub yourself clean again.

The hitchhiker smirks and pushes himself away from the wall. His pupils are all wide again, twin blackholes hungry enough to swallow you, your friends, the whole damn world.

Adrenaline is a hell of a thing but you're up against two convicted killers who've had nothing but time to get stronger. Who've had the world's hardest lessons in cruelty.

Your boyfriend lets go of your hair and grabs one flailing wrist. He bends your arm up your back until you heads tucked under his chin and you're standing on your tiptoes to alleviate the pressure.

The hitchhiker twists one ankle behind yours so you can't kick out of him. It feels like a move cops and wardens might use. He must have had it done to him plenty, if he can so easily put you in the same position.

"I'll scream."

That makes them laugh.

"Go on then gorgeous. Scream. No one heard your friends last night. What makes you think they'll hear you?"

Your friends... You were panicking so bad you hadn't even considered them. The hitchhiker sees your eyes go wide and grins that easy, friendly grin of his. The one that made you trust him enough to give him a ride.

"Oh, we took good care of them. I'll spare you the grisly details but there's no one left out here but us."

It's too awful to consider. Too visceral. Too unreal. Your mind blocks it out and changes your whole train of thought to focus on escaping.

You focus on your boyfriend. He isn't acting like himself. The same man who put his hand on the bible and swore before the court that he killed all those people because of you - that man - was suddenly willing to share? Was inviting someone else to enjoy your body?

"You're going to let him touch me? You killed my lab partner because you said he would jerk off to pictures of me. What the hell changed?"

Your boyfriend hums.

"A whole lot. He's my cellmate."

Like that explains anything!

The hitchhiker slips his fingers under the hem of your top, nails running along your waistband.

"He wouldn't shut up about you. Had your pictures pinned up above his bed and everything. It was so fucking annoying at first. My girl this, my baby that. But after a few months..."

He pops open the button of your jeans with a flick of his thumb. You jerk away but your boyfriend twists your arm even harder and you're forced to hold still.

"After a few months, I started to understand the appeal. Could see why he was so into you. And hell, I wanted a taste myself. Wanted to see if you lived up to the hype."

Your boyfriend is smiling. You can tell from his voice.

"And is she worth all the hard work we put in?"

The hitchhiker's hands are cold. You flinch when he slips his fingers past your panties. He rubs his thumb against your slit, savouring every inch.

"For her? I'd kill twice as many as we did last night."

He sighs as he feels your slick starting to collect around his knuckles. Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you. Cold, uncomfortably cold.

He has a guitarist's hands and you can feel the callouses on his fingertips scraping against your walls. Too rough. Too much.

"Just like I thought. Tight and wet. Your girls loyal to a fault."

Your boyfriend practically purrs.

"Been so good while I was gone, baby. You deserve a reward, dontcha?"

He leans down and nips your cheek. You feel sick. His teeth so close...

"Don't worry. We'll fill you up so good that you'll never try running again."

Your spring break road trip starts well and gets better. But the end? Well, it ends with a cock down your throat in and another in your cunt. It ends with a hand around your neck and teeth marks on your thighs. It ends with a reminder to always trust your instincts and to never, ever give rides to strangers.

[clitorisobliterator]

Liesl Kinzel (Austrian, 1886–1961) - Rose garden in bloom

[clitorisobliterator]

tw - modern!au, kidnapping, stalking, semi-public masturbation, and toxic relationship dynamics.

Thinking about Crime-Lord!Sukuna, who's literally never jerked off. Not before he meets you, at least.

He just doesn't have a reason to. He's never had much of a sex drive, and even in a world without cursed energy, he still finds that he'd rather fight than fuck the grand majority of people he meets. He's not a virgin or anything - a handful of drunken nights with Uraume made sure he wouldn't be carrying around that title for the rest of his life. That doesn't mean he's some loser who needs to have his dick in his hand every five seconds, though. He's got more self-control than that, more dignity.

Or, he's trying to have more dignity. You're so fucking loud - barely bothering to try and hide the fact that you're still crying twenty minutes after he gruffly admitted that you wouldn't be going home, tonight. You've got yourself huddled against the car door, trying to take up as little room on the bench seat you currently share with him as possible. There aren't interior handles, he's got a driver for that kind of shit, but your hand darts out to look for one every couple of minutes, every time the car dips to a speed that might let you jump out relatively unscathed. Like you think he wouldn't be prepared for that. Like you think you're just some unlucky random he decided to haul out of his own goddamn club on a whim.

It's loud. It's annoying. Honestly, it's a little insulting. It's not like you couldn't feel him staring you down every time you stepped into his fucking front-of-a-business, like you hadn't noticed he's only ever in the building when he knows you're already there. It's your own damn fault. If he could trust you not to shake your ass for anyone willing to watch, he wouldn't have had to do this. If he thought you were ever going to pull your head out of the clouds long enough to so much as glance in his direction, he wouldn't have had to force you to.

Like he said - it's annoying. Annoying, and really fucking hot.

He can feel the strain against his slacks, the damp heat crawling down his spine. There's another thirty minutes 'till you get back to his apartment, and every fractured whimper that makes it past your lips is another bolt of agony straight to his cock. You're not going to shut up, so he grits his teeth and bites the bullet - tearing open his fly and freeing his cock. The damn thing was already stiff enough to press into his stomach, to drool over the back of his hand as he clumsily wraps a fist around his shaft. There has to be something wrong with him, with you. He's too sensitive, barely able to flex his hand without feeling the ache in his stomach. Pre-cum drips down his wrist, spilling onto the leather of his seats. Great. Now he has to find time to get the car detailed, too.

He forces his hand to move, pumping robotically from head to base. His attentions moves involuntarily to you, still huddled as far from him as possible, still trying to bite back the little sobs and whines that got him into this, in the first place. The only difference is that, now, your eyes are glued to his lap, your lips parted and your expression horrified. That doesn't help. He pictures you making the same face as he carries you into your new bedroom, all deep velvets and barred windows, as he explains that you're his, now. It's enough to have his cock twitching his hold, demanding friction his awkward, faltering pace can't provide. He curses under his breath, throwing your name into the blend of foul words. It couldn't be enough for you to ruin his fucking life, to force him to spend the last few months on the wrong side of a leash you didn't even know you were holding. No, no, you had to make him humiliate himself while you-

"You're doing it wrong."

When he snaps out of his thoughts, he finds you - now uncurling, brows furrowed in concern and lips pursed. You rest a hand on his bicep, and when he doesn't shove you away, you slide into the seat next to him, wrapping your hand gingerly around his own.

"It's supposed to be, uh, more delicate. With more of an angle." Your voice is light, soft, just a little raspy. There's still a hiccup every now and then, but you seem distracted - a crying child lured out of their tantrum with the introduction of a new, more interesting game. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Shut the fuck up," he mutters, and you hum, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his tip in slow, deep circles. When you move his hand, it's with intention - slower towards the head, faster towards the base, the heel of your palm grinding into the underside every so often. Sukuna throws his head back, shutting his eyes. You don't seem to notice, thoroughly captivated by your shiny new toy.

He always knew you were going to be the death of him.

He just hadn't thought you'd get around to it so fucking fast.

[clitorisobliterator]

THREE, TWO, RUN. ft. Peter Dunbar

♡ SUMMARY: After fleeing from your boyfriend, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it.

♡ CONTENT WARNINGS: pwp, afab, fem!reader, ex-boyfriend!peter x reader, peter being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick peter—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, bondage

♡ WORD COUNT: 2.4k plot, 1.9k smut. 4.3k total

♡ STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER. this is a spin off from my @peachedtvs blog called 'Til Death Dont We Part'

♡ MASTERLIST. cumming soon! Main blog @peachedtv

Peter felt you were quite silly, even from when his eyes first laid upon you through the windows of your diner.

So silly, in so many ways.

You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Peter wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the music he’d hum to silently as he got rid of your recent obstacles. A heavy saw in his hand slashing back and forth, splitting bone into two before stuffing remains of human flesh into a black tarpe—or when he'd bring the nuisances back alive. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth melody muffled through his earbuds.

Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Peter wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.

What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,

Peter always fell apart.

Even in the room of his own heart.

Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.

Peter was always in control.

Control of his job, control of his victims, the police, his therapy, the growing police patrols in your city. So why couldn’t he control this?

What were you doing to him?

He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.

“Are you okay?”

By now, this memory had occurred over 3 years ago.

The first day you two had met, Peter was not in a good mental space. His family was in ruins, the relationship between he and his mother deteriorating until he had finally decided to storm out of the house and leave for good. Leave his home for good.

With nowhere to go, and a rumbling stomach, Peter decided the best course of action was to first fuel his appetite. Damn Diner was loud, painstakingly so. There was a mess of voices, the clash of plates, cutlery, dragging of chairs against tilted floors, chaos that hummed against a muffled out melody of tunes through the ceiling speakers. Everything was so loud. There was a child in the booth next to his. A mess of ketchup and mustard spraying everywhere, a glob falling onto his cheek as his eyebrows knit together in annoyance. There was a couple in the booth across, arguing over the cries of their child whining for a crumb of their attention. There was yelling from the kitchen, scolding as a worker had done something wrong and sent an order to the incorrect table.

And then, there was you.

Timidly, you rushed over to his table. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, apologizing profusely as you explained the mess around the diner. And there, all the loudness stopped. Your voice muffled, muffled until it became strikingly clear and the diner around him seem to slow. Peter's eyes traced your face, how you were out of breath, how kindly you looked to him, how you asked if he was okay. And in this world of distain, you were pure.

And there was the first twist.

Peter spent nights going crazy.

Absolutely insane.

When he had first broken into your apartment, his heavy steps drowned out by the moans of your roommate through the paper thin walls, he thought he would melt into the floor when he first inhaled the scent of you room.

It was a soft aroma, something that had his eyes rolling into the back of his skull when he saw you laying peacefully on the bed. Your head was smushed between a folded pillow, covering your ears as your face was scrunched in discomfort.

"Lucy's being so loud tonight, isn't she, Darling?" Peter spoke softly, the back of his hand gracing your cheek as he sat on the edge of your bed. Careful to dip your mattress slowly so as to not wake you. Carefully, his other hand trailed up the curve of your torso, hip to waist, before entangling with your fingers.

Your hand felt right in his.

Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. And there, he knew even fate was in his hands the moment he had yours in his.

When Peter had mustered up the courage to approach you in the park, he felt his heart beating out his chest, his mind going hazy from everything he wanted to do to you—from hearing your voice up close again. It had been nearly a year since you two had first met at the diner, and it seemed as though you had forgotten him completely. Luckily, Peter knew enough about you through his year of...supervision, and was soon able to swipe you off your feet. There, he became yours.

Your boyfriend.

And you, his girlfriend.

Often the two of you shared late nights after your dates. The hum of cicadas drumming into the background as you'd lay into the grass of the park the two of you 'first' met in. Your hands would intertwine together as the other would hold the grass below. In this park, the two of you would often talk about your dreams, aspirations, or talk shit about whatever seemed to bother you in your life at the moment. And Peter always listened.

In other moments, the two of you enjoyed each other's company. A silence paired with the ambience of howling wind, crickets, and a glint in your eye from the reflection of the moonlight and stars twinkling above. And through this silence, your heart spilled.

“I want to be with you forever, Peter." You spoke softly, you eyes still stuck on the starlight above.

A twist, something twisted once more.

For the first time, Peter eyes looked away from you—a blush traveling to his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features.

“Forever, then, Darling."

And forever meant forever.

Years together flew by, and you both had your own jobs—despite Peter's insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Peter's dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.

“I missed you, Peter.”

Your voice was like honey.

“I missed you more, Darling.” Peter greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Peter looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.

Peter did not want you to continue working.

Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.

The company was in disarray, having strangely lost employee after employee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your employer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Peter.

Although, something felt off.

With Peter home, it was always lively. The ambiance of bustling trees against the wind outside, a hum of the dishwasher from the kitchen, a low vibrato of your home's ventilation system, and the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt the presence of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creaking the dark oak louder than usual.

Without Peter, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.

Was there always a lock?

A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.

Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.

The hand of your boyfriend.

You were terrified.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

You couldn’t think.

Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even more so with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and employer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.

What was that dinner Peter served these passing evenings?

And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.

This time around, nearly three years later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of the fourth apartment complex you were going to apply to. Advertised as a gated community of safety, an exorbitant lot you were willing to hack up the money for to get away from him.

Although, just as three years ago, just as you were able to arrive to the complex, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice low, strange, and terrifyingly familiar. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in the home you shared with him. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.

Your boyfriend's hand.

“I missed you, my Darling.”

You didn't know what was happening.

You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Peter's hand off your shoulder when a burning wet rag was drowned upon your lower face. You kicked, muffled screams and sobs as you dug into the palm that pinched the bridge of your nose, your body growing increasingly more limp. You didn't know what was happening, but by the next moment, it seemed as though you were melting into the floor—the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.

You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.

You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a rough, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.

Even back then, you always felt Peter’s deep eyes had an errie glint. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.

Peter still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into maddness. Sharp teeth and bloodshot eyes that contrasted against sharp blues. He looked terrifying. His forearms were scattered with scars and wounds, peeled back scabs across his skin—likely from the amount of struggling you had done while in his arms. Your name was etched into his skin. Over and over and over, hearts and sharp lines littered as keloids formed in the place of his artwork. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.

“Pe—“

"You remember the time when you'd say it back, don't you, Darling?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A mix of insanity and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.

Meanwhile, Peter felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did three years ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.

He needed you. Now.

Peter brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.

Your terror only fueled him further.

His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Peter licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Peter marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.

The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Peter held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Peter got from the sight of you.

His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.

Pilant.

Obidient.

And what better way than halfway choking you out?

Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.

You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Peter that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Peter was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.

His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Peter pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.

"P-Peter—!" He only smiled in response.

"You've always been so sensitive, huh? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.

You always fell apart so prettily.

Your hand shakily reached out to Peter, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.

Peter stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Peter kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Peter, he pulled a length of manila rope from his back pocket—grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Peter to slow down, to be more gentle.

A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.

A burning desire began to pool in your gut.

"Peter, p-please—"

A hand gripped your throat.

"P-Peter, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You were always so easy to please.

"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, bruising your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Peter smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Peter continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitching and whimpering in his bed. Broken.

"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Darling?" Peter was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clenched around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Peter having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.

"Peter, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Peter suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.

Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.

"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess I can be a little rough, you were always into that, anyways." Before you could understand what Peter meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.

Before you knew it, Peter pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Peter pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Peter only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.

He wanted to rip you apart.

Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.

"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Peter where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-boyfriend's cock.

"Don't you dare."

"Please, Baby."

Fuck.

You drove him fucking crazy.

Peter swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him baby once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Peter laughed.

"You truly know me so well, Darling." Peter's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.

"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.

Peter pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.

"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Peter's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.

"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Peter's fingers swirling your clit viciously.

"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.

"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.

"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Peter let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Peter continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.

"B-baby, Peter—please, I can'—"

And for the first time since three years ago, and for the first time together—Peter kissed you.

His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.

He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Peter's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.

Maybe you still love him, even after it all.

Peter's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Peter allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.

"I love you, Darling."

Peter spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.

"So don't you leave me ever again."

You're watching...

© Studio Peached 2024

[clitorisobliterator]

Favorite Secretary

Yan!CEO x GN (secretary) Reader

Tw: yandere behavior, smut, mind corruption

AN; Sorry for any mistakes, and no plot- smut :p

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Gasping for air as you grasp his desk as he keeps fucking you. Trying to keep your moans down as his cock fits perfectly into your hole, as if it was made for him and that just made him more feral. He wants to hear more of you, if only you didn't have to be quite while he fucks you brainless. Every time both of you have sex he is very happy about ruining your career, he did everything in his power to make sure you only work with him. That you are under his control. He made sure you got rejected and blacklisted from working anywhere else but his company. Even better that you are his secretary, it helps to make sure you are closer to him than before.

He keeps ramming into you and grabs your waist tightly, making sure you don't fall onto his desk. He wants to make sure you feel his dick inside of you, at some point he pulls you up and makes you sit on his dick. Opening up your legs and just starts ramming his dick into your hole, you lost it and moaned loudly. You can't help it, his dick feels good as he keeps going in and out, it doesn't help that he is taller and buffer to. He has all that muscle and it wasn't for show, it's something that he can use to his advantage.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good. You love taking my cock right? Panting like crazy, grabbing my arm as if that can stop me from being in your tight hole."

You couldn't say anything but moan. His dick is too good, too good for you to mumble anything but a slight 'yes'. Grabbing his arms as he goes into you, begging to cum. You can't help it- his dick is too good for you to keep it in longer and you just need to let it go. You can't think straight anymore besides his dick. You hate it, you wish that you didn't have to come to this life. If only you didn't get blacklisted from the job site, you could have been anywhere else. But on the other hand you can't deny, this job is good and it helps keep you afloat in the current world. If only your CEO wasn't so.... obsessed with you, but I guess that comes with the job.

"I will only cum if you beg for it." "Please let me cum! Let me, please please," You kept blabbing, unable to make coherent sentences or thoughts. His dick is too much for you. "Cum then, since you're desperate enough for my dick."

As soon as you came, he still kept going. At this point you felt overwhelmed and your legs shake violently. Soon after he came inside of you- no warning as you feel his cum inside of you. Gasping as he slowly pulls his dick out, watching his cum drip out of your hole.

"Good.. you did so well. I'm proud of my little secretary, taking my dick well. But you did moan loudly... ah well that's another time. Good job." Smiling as he helps clean you up, dressing you in your outfit and watching you struggle to leave his office as if nothing happened.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Below this is old writing, I didn't like the way it was heading so yeah, didn't feel like deleted it LOL

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ You always kept quiet and did your own things. Wondering why the CEO would make you be his own secretary, didn't he have one before? You wonder what happened to them. Shaking your head you continued your job, scheduling meetings, responding to emails, all sorts of boring but important tasks. While in the mists of your task, Lux, the CEO called you to his office. That's weird, he never called you to his office unless it was an emergency. Aka you fucked up. Gulping, you finished up sending the last email and began to walk up to his office.

While you were walking up to his office, Lux was eagerly waiting for you. He has done so much to get you to be this close, just a bit more and you will be his. He was able to mess up your life to the point to where you now depend on this job to survive. He was getting tired of his old sectary anyways, but you. You were appealing to him. Something about you appealed to his taste, you were someone so pure, kind-hearted, something that he mostly lacked. You touched his heart when he first saw you in that small café. He was going to pass that until he heard your voice, and than he saw you. You captivated his attention. He just had to have you. To make you his. He smiles as he eagerly waited for you, he just can't wait to make you his. No matter what.

You made it to his office, standing in front of it you softly knocked. Hearing a muffled 'come in' you opened the door. Lux. The CEO sitting in his desk, smiling at you and gesturing to come closer to his desk. You do, very shakily. When you arrived at his desk, he stands up and walks towards you, Lux towering over you as he slowly leans in to your face. You slowly back away from him until your back hits his desk.

Glancing up at him he smirks, one of his hands holds the back of your hair and yanks it. Making you look at his ceiling and felt his breath on your neck. Kissing your neck as his other hand travels down into your pants. Gasping as he quickly unbottles your pants and watching it slide down.

[clitorisobliterator]

school environments shaping the developing brain

ok this is very random, ignore the possible errors I make typing this out but just some random thoughts I had awhile back had resurfaced recently, I was working on my science fair project: The correlation between stress/cortisol and how it affects the developing brain. And it got me thinking.

There's a brain process called synaptic pruning, where unused neural connections are eliminated, which enhances neural network efficiency, this process is especially active from early childhood through adolescence. The brain basically strengthens connections that are used often and removes those that barely engage.

Thing is, school significantly influences which neural pathways are kept and which are purged, environments that encourage critical thinking, diverse experiences, etc. promote the retention of a wide range of neural connections. However, rigid education systems that place importance on rote memorization and discourage creativity could likely limit the amount of diverse experiences needed for healthy neural development.

The patterns instilled during adolescence has long-lasting effects, neural pathways that are kept during this period places a huge importance in behaviors and thought patterns that the individual has as an adult. So, educational systems that don't promote diverse experiences may not only limit immediate learning outcomes but could also shape how well an individual preforms cognitively but also how competent their social capabilities will be.

so all in all, how stupid somebody is could probably also be blamed on the education system of their country/city.

sources:

[clitorisobliterator]

blood on the white sheets (old story summary thing I wrote when I was 16 lmao)

warnings: incest, rape, major character death, murder, virgin worship, psychosis, patricide, sororicide, uhh if theres any more tell me lol

----------------------------------

Akahana was a maiden of white and pure, her room was a contrast from the lands. It was all in a soft, milky, white you only find when breastfed from the teat of God-mother herself. While even in the hottest and driest lands, bright green vines and red beautiful roses would grow to enter her room, without rosey petals dropping on her white bedsheets.

Aecus, Apollyon and Atres were all deeply fond of their younger sister, Akahana growing up. However, not without the heatstroking warmth that spread through the cotton.

One day, they take her, in aggravation and aggression, to repent for obsession and lust. They deemed everybody else unfit to care for her tender petals and the nourishment of her soil. Consequently they had ruined her pretty garden, a bed of beautifuly blossoming roses with leaves that will dry even with the infinite abundance of tears. She pools into the bedsheets in deep slumber, becoming one with her garden.

In deep regret and as depression sulked, they had found fault in their father. His fault that our sister had fallen, unable to care for the roses or tend to the fingers pricked by sharp thorns!

With the patricide -- came the whispers reverberating throughout towns. The three brothers who had a father, and lust, incest and rape. The only kinslaying they deemed justifiable and gallant, to protect their one and only dearest sister.

[clitorisobliterator]

(yandere! polar bear hybrid x gn! reader) (CW: slight gore description/murder description)

if it's brown, lay down.

if it's black, fight back.

and if it's white, say goodnight.

especially if it's a male hybrid who developed an infatuation with you.

"shit shit shit! get away!"

you scream at the polar bear hybrid, running away as fast as you can. your lungs burn, chest heaving as you hear the male hybrid chase after you.

you were a researcher sent to antarctica to research about the wild life and how they coped with climate change. you saw arctic foxes, penguins, seals, all of which you were ecstatic to see. they eere just the cutest after all!

unfortunately, you had also garnered the attention of a polar bear hybrid.

you knew that polar bears were carnivores. you knew that it was dangerous. but you were curious about him, especially because he looked friendly. you should've turned your back on him and ran away when you had the chance.

you first met him a few months back when you were observing some seal hybrids that came up to land to bounce about. he was standing a few feet away from you, your eyes wide as you felt your heart freeze up.

you had thought you were going to die that day. after all, meeting a polar bear was not a coincidence. not with their keen sense of smell and their history with hunting humans down.

but you saw him outstretch his hands towards you, holding a fish as his cheeks flush red, trying to communicate with you with random sounds.

"for me?"

"n...ngh..."

he nods his head, trying to nudge the fish towards you. you were hesitant to accept, but you eventually did. which led to you two talking often, growing closer and closer by the day.

you had taught him english, basic english at the very least so you two could communicate. he was eager to learn, listening intently. and in return, he taught you about himself and his way of life. much was gained from your exchanges with one another.

you found him endearing with how he always chirped and repeated your words, english rolling off his tongue with a heavy accent. you thought it was cute for him to call you 'his' and for him to say he loved you.

rightn he was just testing out new words! perhaps he found it interesting to say and repeat like a newborn child! that's normal, isn't it?

"love... love. mine."

"yeah, you love me, don't you?"

you tease, bumping his shoulder as you teach him a few new phrases, not noticing the faint blush he always had on his ethereal features. he probably meant it in a joking or friendly manner after all.

little did you know, he was not joking when he constantly told you he that he loved you.

nor did you remember that he was still a hunter at heart.

"a-ah!"

screams of pain awoke you from your deep slumber that fateful night. you immediately sit up in your bed, looking around before quickly wearing your thick coat and venturing out of the research base. what was that shouting? did your fellow researchers see something crazy?

well, you definitely did.

and it was a horrific sight. the sight of your polar bear friend ripping one of your researchers to shreds, scarlet blood staining his skin as he rips the poor guy to pieces. that's not even the worst part, for you saw two of your other team members laying not too far from the polar bear hybrid, bodies unoving and mangled beyong recognition.

you instinctively let out a scream at the sight, eyes widening as you bolt out of the base. your heart thumped loudly with each step you took, tears brimming at your eyes as you hear the polar bear hybrid chasing after you.

was he hungry? did he finally decide that he was going to kill you?

no, it was a fate far worse than that. and you finally realized that as the weight of what he called you hits you hard.

"mate! no run!"

he shouts at you, chasing after you on all fours as you run away as fast as your human body would allow you to. adrenaline ran through your body as you did your best to escape nature's natural hunter. but it wasn't enough.

"shit shit shit! get away from me!"

you shout, whimpering as you trip on your laces, falling face forward into the cold snow. you immediately try getting back up to run away. but by the time you pushed yourself up, the hybrid was already standing over you, eyes filled with an expression you wished would not exist.

obsession.

"mate... mate... scared? no need scared... no hurt mate."

he mumbles gently, face softening as he bends down beside you to rub your cheek reasuringly. but it was hard to be reassured with how his mouth and body was stained with your team members blood.

"n-no don't touch me! you're going to kill me too aren't you?!"

you shout, shivering as you try backing away from him. your words cause the hybrid to pause, his sharp eyes narrowing at you as his grip on your face tightens ever so slightly.

"said... won't hurt mate. no scared."

he mumbles, staring at you before pressing his forehead against yours.

"only get rid of trash."

he sighs happily, looking at you with adoring eyes before rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

trash?

your heart stopped at his words, realization settling in. shit, so he wasn't lying when he said he loved you, nor when he was saying he only wanted you to himself.

you could've prevented this.

you.

could've.

prevented.

this.

guilt seeps into your veins, tears finally rolling down your cheeks as you let the polar bear hybrid cradle your body in his arms.

"no... you didn't have to kill them-"

you sob, weakly wiping away your tears as the male tilts his head at you. confused, he doesn't understand why you eere crying or why you wished for him to not killyour teammates. why was his mate so sad? he should probably cheer you up!

"mate no cry... why? was... going to eat them since start. was watching you since the start. hate the way you always go back to... them. mate is mine since then. since mate... take offering."

the male hybrid says in an attempt to reassure you. but obviously, it did the opposite of just that.

oh. so he really was watching you since the beginning. that offering with the fish wasn't just him being curious. did he fall for you at first sight? shit, you knew you should've just ran away at the sight of him!

"the fish was an offering?"

"yes. offering for mate."

he nods his head, smiling slightly as he reminisces his first actual meeting with you. after all, he had been observing you for quite a bit before that. he just finally got the courage to meet you that day! and you accepted! unknowingly of course.

you look away from the hybrid, shaking slightly as some of the guilt leaves your system. ah, so maybe this wasn't fully your failt. you couldn't have predicted that it was actually an offering, could you?

"bring mate home now. mate tired."

the polar bear hybrid hums, goving you a bloody smile as he stands back up, cradling you in his arms. but you start flailing about, squirming as fear enters your mind. wait what? home? were you getting kidnapped by him?

the male says nothing for a bit continuing to walk back in the direction of his home. but as you continue to struggle and shout at him to be let go, his patience grows thin and he looks down at you with a warning look.

"stop moving."

he grumbles, glaring at you as he grips you tightly. blood drips down onto your face as he talks, your eyes widening in fear before you quietly obey not wanting to upset him.

no, you were just reminded of how brutal he could be. and you didn't want to be at the end of his anger. not at all.

the both of you remain quiet for a bit, the only sounds being heard were the sounds of his feet coming into contact with the snow with every step he took. thatw as until he broke the silence.

"love mate. mate so precious."

the hybrid mumbles, looking down at you with a longing expression before he sighs softly.

"mate mine now. all mine."

he giggles, cradling you closer to him before stopping in front of an igloo looking thing. was this his home? you weren't sure, but seeing as he was staring at it, it most likely is.

"temporary home. will build mate nicer house soon."

he mutters, placing you down on a makeshift bed made using... what looked like seal and fox fur.

you sit uncomfortably on the fur, not moving as the hybrid sits down beside you, holding you close to him. silence fills the air as he looks at you fondly, not saying anything at all.

he leans his head against you, rubbing your hand affectionately before sighing again.

"love forever. only us."

he mutters before pressing a blood stained kiss onto the back of your hand. you could only stare quietly, unsure of what to say. on one hand, you didn't love him. i mean he's not even fully human! but on the other hand... you didn't want to trigger his anger by trying to escape or refuse him.

oh well, you guess this is your new life now.

[clitorisobliterator]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴜʟʟʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Yandere bully who first learned about you when you bumped into him in the halls

Yandere bully who pushed you roughly, cursing at you, scowling before walking away with his two other goons that follow him around

Yandere bully who you hated, bc why he acting like he the shit when he has two blobs following himm?? >:((

Yandere bully who starts messing with you,pushing you in the hallways and making fun of you

Yandere bully who pushed you in the hallway, making you elbow him in the face, causing blood to gush out his nose

Yandere bully who groans in pain, scowling at you before running away

Yandere bully who goes to the bathroom to help stop the bleeding, stuffing napkins up his nose to help

Yandere bully who felt his dick rising once he remembered how hard and painful your elbow was to his nose

Yandere bully who immediately blushes, shaking his head and trying to put down his aching boner, panicking, was he really getting heard because of one elbow to the face?!

Yandere bully who begins to follow you around with a scowl on his face after that, knowing he now had the biggest crush on u

Yandere bully who cries as he runs his own thumb over the tip, the pleasure making him shiver and for pre cum to leak out even more as he remebers the pain u inflicted on him

Yandere bully whose tongue lollies out as he grunts to a picture he took of you eating a banana, wishing the banana was his dick instead.

Yandere bully who insults you whenever you mention that he is now following you around and doing your homework

Yandere bully who acts like hes being forced to buy you snacks from the vending machine when he is literally doing this out of his free will

Yandere bully who holds your hand during a fieldtrip, not wanting to lose you through a big crowd

Yandere bully who is literally clingy asf even though he acts as if YOUR the one sniffing his underwear and touching urself to it (u dont do that freaky shit, that bitch is just mad that he luvs u and ur panties)

Yandere bully who is now ur tsundere who wants u to inflict more pain on him <333

GUYS I KINDA WANNA MAKE A YAN LIGHT X READER BC NO ONE MAKES HIM MALE WIFE ENOUGH GRAHHH

WHY IS USING TUMBLR SO MUCH MORE FUN THAN WATTPAD GN

GUYS CAN U SEND ME GOOD LOOKISM WRITERS BC I NEED JAMES LEE ZACK LEE DANIEL AND VINJIN IN MY BED NOW

[clitorisobliterator]

sweet!lamb!reader being tricked by mean!wolf!yandere. like a wolf in sheep clothings concept?? the reader just believes anything he says without hesitation.

NSFW

warning: yandere behavior, dubcon, reader is a lamb but she’s an adult hybrid, I’m not good at writing mean characters…

You happily wagged your tail as you followed the wolf out into the woods, away from your flock. He had promised you affection and some sweets that you had never tried before!

Everyone warned you, saying wolf hybrids were bad news… but you were too innocent and kind to understand!! The wolf hybrid was nice, giving you candy and showing you all the best spots to graze!

The wolf had first planned on devouring such a stupid little creature, but he’d grown a bit fond of you. He imagined your fluffy little self could carry his litter quite well, so he lured you away from your flock.

“Can’t you see, you’re such a cute, dumb little thing…”

You whimpered, your fat cunt being knotted by his thick cock as he bit along your soft flesh. “B-but you said I could have sweets…”

Your little eyes welled with tears, your lip wobbling pathetically as his fingers teased your clit.

“Shh… my little dummy, just be quiet and let me fuck your sweet cunt. That’s all you’re useful for isn’t it, being my breeding bitch?”

He groped your heavy tits, squeezing them. “These will fill up with milk soon, my pet… all mine, my little lamb…”

It seemed your future would be filled with lots of pups… but in the end, he did feed you some sweets… but you had to suck his cock to get them first.

So mean…

You were all his now, with nowhere to go. A lamb without its flock was a helpless thing, and he’d do as he pleased with his prey.

——————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @facelessfionna

[clitorisobliterator]

I've been writing the yandere farmboy oneshot, and my head is full of delicious thoughts about him.

Tw. Yandere, nsfw themes, Fem.Pov

Yandere Farmboy who is the only one who cares about you in this tiny town. He's from a better off family and just knows he can take care of your properly if you'd let him.

Yandere Farmboy who loves having his hands all over you. His favorite is on the small of your back, guiding you gently to wherever he feels best. He likes manhandling you, too. There's something so satisfying about how his thick, strong fingers clamp down on your arm and drag you around with ease.

Yandere Farmboy who's liked you for years, but has been too afraid to act on it. You're not the kind of girl he'd really want to be seen with. You're poor, not well educated, come from a bad family. You're everything his community hates. You're supposed to be trash, but he loves you anyways.

Yandere Farmboy who acts way too familiar with you. He speaks like you're old friends with each other, or like he knows everything about you. When you do something he doesn't like or doesn't approve of, he comes from an angle of just caring about your wellbeing. It doesn't matter if he's trying to pressure you into doing things you don't want. He knows what's best. Why wouldn't you trust the town's golden boy when he's telling you that you should kiss him or let him take you out?

Yandere Farmboy who is in everyone's good graces. He makes you feel crazy for feeling scared or reluctant around him. Come on? You're really worried about him of all people darling? He treats you like some dumb, doe eyed animal that is in need of a guiding hand rather than an actual person who maybe just doesn't want to be with him.

[clitorisobliterator]

Yandere mechanic

Yandere mechanic who met you when you crashed your car, he walked out to tell you about the news of your car and he stopped mid sentence.

“The damage of your car will be pretty pricey it’ll take…” he paused as he looked at you sitting in the waiting room, you were his exact type and he was immediately hooked. “…fifty dollars.”

You were surprised but paid the money, not expecting it to so cheap..you crashed your car after all!

You didn’t know that he fixed your car but damaged it slightly so you would have to come back in. He knew you would come back in, those prices were too good to not take.

And he was right. He continued to fix your car but make another problem in it so much that you two became friends. But he needed wanted more.

Yandere mechanic who stays over at your house a lot to hang out, he loves your house it smells like you!!

Yandere mechanic teaches you about car facts so you can save money now, oh how mark loves the look of oil and dirt on your face. He used it as an excuse to caress your cheek saying he was just wiping soot off your cheek.

Yandere mechanic who really just is a silly bulky guy who is a little manipulative but he promises himself that he’ll make it worth it when you finally become his.

Yandere mechanic who has to endure your slow burn with him. He’s almost gave up and just kidnapped you but he can’t take that disappointment in your eyes.

Requests open!!

[clitorisobliterator]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)