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[milo4d]

Adam; the infatuated poet

It's the 90's in south france, Adam's a poet and the new English teacher who has a rivarly and a bordeline obsessive crush on you.

Tags/trigger warnings: Dark content, rivals academic, stalking, period-typical sexism, french reader.

A/N: this is my oc, so do not repost neither translate this. Minors do not interact.

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About the character

He was the new English teacher in a small town in the south France.  A tall and good-looking man who wears glasses and smiles at everyone but you.

At first, he felt a bit threatened by you, you were as good as a teacher as him. Everyone in college loved you, a little too much for his like.

But it wasn’t until you both started bickering that he got fixated on you. He started to bully you secretly so no one will notice, with passive aggressive comments towards you. But to his surprise, you -the nice and sweet teacher- have it in you to fight back.

He gets annoyed by your smartass remarks towards him. You were special in the town. You're like the woman he wishes to marry one day, one who’s sweet, nice, pretty and wrapped in an angelic aura. You have all those good qualities, but you’re too independent and talk back to any man who do as much as provoke you, and that made him feel pissed. He wanted to put you in your place, tired of hearing your sweet voice calling him sexist jerk in French.

“Don’t be angry at me for telling the truth, you’ll die alone and with cats if you keep this arrogant attitude,” he mocked with mirth shining through his glasses. He receives the reaction he expected when you narrowed your pretty eyes with crossed arms. He loved to irritate you and to see those eyes full of flames and passion every time you tried to put him on his place.

His secret and confusing infatuation towards you only growth each day, like a beast feeding from flesh, with claws clinging to its prey.

Then he started to follow you, sometimes he watched your small flat from across the street. And how you brush your long hair in front of your vanity mirror.

He felt angry by his own feelings, he wanted to hate you but he couldn’t. You were too pretty, the woman of his fantasies, but you were also too rebel for his liking.

What will he do with you? Perhaps… stalk you until he figures you out, and changes your liberal beliefs.

After all you belong to him, under him, with him and for him only.

His thoughts were all consuming, you were the object of his obsession. He writes and writes about you, and he thought it was a good idea to send you those anonymous letters under the door of your flat. But your pretty and curious smile fell the next months, when his obsession and letters turned rather creepy.

And he kind of liked it, your scared wide eyes staring around you with fear, gripping the door handle with a trembling hand. It made something heavy and hot knot in his belly, he wanted to see that pretty expression one more time, so he could protect you from any danger -including him-. Your vulnerable face only deepened his dark desires.

One night he broke in your house, pissed at you for not being more careful and lock the door. It's good that you have him to protect you, after all he was way too possessive over the things he loves.

You were humming sweetly in your kitchen, wearing a dress shirt a bit too big for you, with the skin of your left shoulder exposed. He breathes deep, trying to calm himself down. He wanted to be a gentleman but you made it very difficult to him.

He stopped behind you, and watched the moment you freeze feeling a strange presence on your back, ready to scream and run but he was quicker than you, covering your mouth roughly, wrapping his other arm around your waist to pull your back against him. He buried his nose on the skin of your neck, sniffing and feeling its warmth.

“Fucking still,” he warned lowly against your ear when he felt you wiggling in his grip. The half of his face was covered by a dark mask, and his black cap hide his gaze.

He shushed you gently when he felt your tears streaming from your eyes, roaming his hand and feeling the skin of your belly under your shirt. He caressed it slowly, you were trapped and covered by his tall frame, feeling asphyxiated.

You listened to his shallow breaths behind you, and how his grip on your body was constrain, scaring you even more. And to your horror, you noticed how he pull down his mask to run his lips on your neck, lapping your jaw slowly like a thirsty dog.

You were trapped by this man, gripping tightly the edge of the counter. You narrowed your eyes to see his face through the reflection of the window.

But he didn't let you.

Read part II here.

[milo4d]

yandere!beauty with beast!reader scenario

warnings: minors dni, poisoning, manipulation, fem!reader, non-con body snatching, body horror, magic, references to Disney’s animated film, delusional thoughts and obsessive behavior.

There might be potential triggers in here. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events. You are responsible for your own Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators ❤️

Hey guys and welcome to the first yandere imagine x reader prompt of the spooky season! To celebrate such an auspicious event on the first day of fall, I present my own version on @suiana's prompt of a yandere!beauty being besotted with a beast!reader. Credit goes to the rightful creator, and I will leave the link to the prompt here.

Special thanks to @thatstrangesheep for being my beta reader and helping me flesh out some of the unwritten parts in this piece so that I can deliver a tale that will make your head spin in disbelief and wonder.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! Oh, did I mention there might be an Easter Egg in here? 😉

Witches, for all the power and inhuman beauty that they possess, are incredibly fickle creatures. You were familiar with their behavior because you are a witch yourself, and have met many of them over the course of your travels. You visited their covens, paid respects to the elders, and occasionally took part in a few rituals before wanderlust called out to you again. You cannot recall how many times the other witches revered the ground you walked on, and how many times you have asked them to treat you like any other witch. You did not like the attention you received, preferring to spend hours in the coven’s library or the lab while your familiar lounged by your side, sleeping or pressing his lithe inky body against the back of your legs, purring. 

Your life has been peaceful, away from other humans. That’s all you wanted. Now? You weren’t so sure if it is possible to return to that idyllic lifestyle ever again. And it all began with an invitation to a tea party.

It was common for witches to visit one another, even if they were from completely different covens. It is a common sign of respect for witches to invite a witch into one’s home. Declining the invitation would be considered an insult, and it would give the host an excellent reason to jinx you in retribution. Being jinxed is never fun, so you went along with it, even when you weren’t on very good terms with Angela.

Angela has been a witch for as long as you have and is quite proud of her accomplishments in magic. Something she never stops reminding you about when your paths cross at gatherings. 

A human would think that a witch with common sense would hide herself away in the woods and only lure unsuspecting humans into their cottage to feast on their flesh or use it for dark spells. Or how they moved from one place to another without being caught, enchanting their home with fortified defenses and to travel on chicken legs at the first sight of danger.

 But that is how a human thinks.

Vain and fashionable Angela never enjoyed getting blood on her clothes, if they were brand new. In fact, her ‘cottage’ is a castle built inside the mountains, overlooking a dense woodland filled with direwolves and other fearsome animals. She had gained it after seducing a simple-minded prince, supposedly cutting out his heart and eating it. At least, those were the rumors floating around the covens. 

When you had arrived in the rose gardens where the tea party was being held, Angela was the only one seated at the head of the long table filled with plates of sweets and teapots. The chairs on either side were empty. 

“Is it just us?” You asked.

“I invited a few more. They’ll be here soon.” She answered with a smile. “Thank you for coming all of this way to see me. I had heard you were traveling in the opposite direction when I had sent out my invitation, but I wanted to spend a little time with you before you disappeared again until the next full moon. Would you like some earl gray tea? It just finished steeping, and has a wonderful flavor~!”

You gratefully accepted it, needing a potent drink after traveling this far to see her. Since she said there would be other witches joining this little get-together, you supposed you could tolerate her company long enough to have a conversation, catch up on what’s happened since the two of you last saw each other, etc.

But instead of exchanging small pleasantries, Angela boasted about her accomplishments, both new and old again. From collecting perverted men to be her ‘dogs’ and discovering a brand new type of plant that would help amplify a witch’s magic temporarily, it was all about her. If that wasn’t annoying, she had the nerve to insult your findings, declaring them useless to witches, even when everyone else has said the opposite.

You created a potion that can reverse a powerful aphrodisiac that is easily mistaken for a common weed.

Your research has shown that the delicate bodies of a new species of silkworms perish when their environment experiences even the smallest temperature change or when extreme stress is imposed upon them. When they are thriving, they can produce twice the amount of silk than a normal one. Only you are aware of the actual method of rear them for this kind of production.

You found out that there is a loophole between witches and demons when they form a contract, but it’s still a work in progress. More field research and experimentation is required. 

Naturally, you didn’t accept this insult and defended yourself by pointing out that a spell to move a soul from a decaying body to a new one is already being used in another country by a shaman queen who has a powerful fear of death. To you, it sounds like Angela fears losing her beauty more than anything else and that’s why the new body she is possessing now differs from the thirty-something woman she was last time. How old was her victim? Twenty, maybe sixteen? She knows that as long as she uses this spell and stays in a body that isn’t hers, the possibility of losing her magic entirely is quite high, yes?

Humans aren’t capable of wielding magic. Only witches. 

To think a witch of Angela’s caliber and intellect would stoop so low as to possess a human woman’s body just because it is pretty to look at is embarrassing. Insulting even, for contemplating to give up this gift for something that she already has. But Angela was always greedy. So were you. 

You shouldn’t have drank the tea she offered. If you hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have awakened in the castle’s dungeons, chained next to a hulking, motionless beast inside an intricate circle of runes illuminated by melting candles. Standing above you and outside of the circle was Angela, her smile knife-like and menacing. 

“I went through all the trouble to invite you, and all I get for my kindness are insults? Really [First Name], you should know better than to insult a witch in her own home.” She giggled. “I’ve always despised you, you know. You have power, respect, and beauty and you believe a life of isolation is ideal for a witch? Well, let me tell you it isn’t. Life is about living to the fullest, indulging in your vices and creating spells for your own use! But now, I’ll get to live the life I deserve through your body.”

Using the runes in the magic circle, she had extracted your consciousness from your body and planted it inside the beast, then put her soul in your body. If that wasn’t a fitting punishment for insulting a fellow witch, she cursed the land around the castle, making it misty and rainy, drawing in more creatures so that only a few would dare to enter. Or for anyone to leave. 

Then, with a tinkling laugh, she left and haughtily wished you good luck in trying to remove her little gift. 

It’s been six years since your consciousness inside this beast. Well, ‘beast’ is a simple term for what you are; the proper term for a magical creature that was born from a witch’s magic, actually, is a chimera. 

The head, legs, and tail of a wolf.

The body of a bear.

The horns of a buffalo. 

The tusks of a wild boar.

Manacles were on the hind-legs, paws, and collar with a bit of chain hanging from it. 

This body was durable and had magic, but not enough to remove Angela’s curse. That’s why you have made very little progress in this endeavor despite having a fully furnished lab and a library with shelves that stretched to the ceiling. Additionally, it seemed that Angela purposely restricted the movement of this beast. You could get pass the direwolves and bats with the physical prowess you had, but as soon as you stood on the outskirts of a village, this body would convulse in excruciating pain until you crawled away from the human settlement. Then the pain would stop entirely, leaving only a tingling sensation that would last for a good three hours. The theory you had is Angela’s pet was a disobedient sort, getting too close to the humans or eating them for dinner, and this pain was their punishment if they decided to try again. 

If there is any optimistic outlook on the situation, it would be that no human would be so stupid as to come here to seek shelter and the magic is enough to tailor some clothes to fit your hulking body or cook the food you had collected from the forest. Your new diet consisting of direwolf meat, wild berries, and tea. It wasn’t too bad; you supposed. Even some of the poisonous plants were tasty. 

What you did not expect in the wee hours of the morning is being discovered by a beautiful young man, staring at you with wide eyes and clutching an arrow and bow in his hands. If this is supposed to be a hunter, then either he’s not skilled or someone forced him to go out and find food for his family. But he did not notch the arrow and aimed it at your heart. He just stood there, rooted in his fear at the sight of a chimera wearing trousers and a cloak, acting like one of his kind. 

Not wanting to startle him, you slowly backed away and stood up on your hind-legs. “Are you lost?” You asked, your voice coming out gravely and harsh from years of not using it. 

“Y-Yes!”

“Are you from the village?”

“Yes!”

“Hm.” You grunted, lowering yourself back to the ground and on your hind-legs, putting your wares inside the wicker basket before grabbing it with your teeth. “Come.” You said, walking past him. “I will lead you back to your home.” It was still early enough to return him to his village and make it back in time before the afternoon storms arrived, despite the mist surrounding the woodlands at this hour. You heard feet scrambling behind you, so you did not have to elaborate further that the beast had no intention of harming the beauty. The walk was silent and uneventful, and that was perfectly fine by you. You brought the human as far as you could go and returned to the castle. 

The following day, however, you saw him standing outside of the gates from your balcony, looking quite haggard. Why was he here? The enchantments were supposed to keep people out! Perplexed, you stormed to the main entrance, mouth opened and ready to demand why he was here when he got one knee, clasping your paw with his small hand. 

“Please grant me the honor of being your husband in holy matrimony, my beloved!” He exclaimed, cheeks flushed bright red and eyes sparkling in the sun. 

You blinked. Is a hallucination of a human proposing marriage to a chimera the result from drinking two bottles of honey wine the prior evening to test this body’s tolerance for alcohol?

“Darling?”

“I respectfully decline.” You said, using your magic to teleport him away from the castle and back to the outskirts of the village before going inside to make a hangover cure from your experiment. A bowl of spinach soup with minced direwolf meat was enjoyed later that afternoon in the library, then a nap before resuming your research. 

Yet the following afternoon, the beautiful man was back again, carrying a bouquet of roses in one hand and a basket in the other. “My love, I’ve brought baguettes and a wheel of cheese! Surely you must be hungry!” He shouted. “As your husband-to-be, it is my duty to ensure my spouse is well-fed and rested! Please, grant me this small wish lest the animals will devour me before I could gaze upon your visage once more!”

Your left eye twitched as you stared at his reflection through an enchanted mirror in the laboratory, designed to alert you if there were any intruders at the gates. 

Is this human even right in the head?

Annoyed and aware that this beauty would just come right back to the gates if you used another teleportation spell, there was nothing else you could do except allow him to come inside.  So you did, though you told yourself you were merely curious how he got past the enchantments, let alone find this castle a second time without getting mauled by monsters. 

That had been your first mistake. 

Your second mistake was unwittingly allowing him access to the library. You honestly thought he was illiterate or had no interest in reading books that would take the average mortal a year to finish, let alone comprehend. It’s why you never entertained the idea of him stealing them, concealing their presence in a basket he had gotten in the habit of bringing with him when he came to see you every other day. Exchange the old ones for new ones, carefully shelving them as if they never left the castle and continue his studies in magic. He might not possess power, but he was vastly more intelligent than the other men in his village.

But who is to say that the witch who dared to curse his beloved beast can resist a beauty like himself? His father always did say his good looks would get him somewhere in life.

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist: @nikkiistired @blvdmrcnry @lukabwrry @nightstarblue @ghostdoodlen @jurijyuu @the-dumber-scaramouche @dreamlessnight @slowlyswimmingmoon @reiivven @mochinon-yah @aiimee9 @yandere-dark-cupid @nunezs-stuff @ixchelhernandez4 @diannaflight @julietdelamare @emperatris-rinaka @cassanderasblog @tonightwrites @tired-of-life-86 @abelheilonwife @persephone-kore-law @detectivesparrow @beardedblizzardexpert @itadorismommy @lu-zo-san @the-cat-queen-peasants @anime-4-u @sourlove @pinkgoldweebgirl @ozzgin @valeriinee @beardedblizzardexpert @detectivesparrow @ozzgin @hotnbloodied @alstus @gingeryzobo @queenofspades403 @mitra555 @moongurl95 @stingywiththeirusername

[milo4d]

yandere!rich boy with socialite!streamer!reader imagine

warnings: strong language, drug/alcohol usage, sexual references, fem!reader, subtle hints of obsessive thoughts, delusional thoughts, gaslighting/manipulation, masculine toxicity. minors dni.

Special thanks to @thatstrangesheep for helping me polish this draft to the best it can be, and @hotnbloodied for giving me inspiration when I least expected with their own piece revolving around a yandere!rich boy. I'll leave the link to their work here. Also thanks to @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me find the right pic for this fic.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! :)

divider by @cafekitsune

The Everetts have been in charge of the high society hierarchy since the city’s foundation over two hundred years ago, becoming leaders in the steel industry and later other areas of business. Each member in this family has been successful, and they all had high expectations of their children as soon as they were able to go to school: become well-rounded in academics and sports, rub shoulders with the right people and never bring any shame to their legacy. 

Unfortunately, Sebastian Everett has already achieved the title of black sheep at twenty; indulging in casual sex, snorting white lines of crack in an attempt to drown out his grandfather’s boring-ass lectures and try to peek down the hot secretary’s too tight blouse. His stellar marks in Chemistry, Calculus, and other difficult subjects were his only saving grace from being disinherited. He knew how to apply himself. He just doesn’t feel the need to.

Is he immature and spoiled? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really. Why stress about it all, when trying to be perfect when it isn’t humanly possible? Life isn’t supposed to all work and no play. Yes, he's fucked up a lot. But hey, who hasn't at his age? Plus, no matter what he does or the career path he'll ultimately take, it will never be good enough. Not to his granddad, not to his parents, nobody. And you know what? He's fine with that. He's always managed to do well on his own without their help.

Now, imagine this insufferable bloke meeting you, a sweet little darling at one of the family’s annual galas. He knows who is who on the social scene, and this sheep’s family were rich and famous. Just not like him. The cherry on top is that he knows you’re faking it. Why? Because you attend the same university as he does, sharing only a couple of classes because your major is different from his own. You weren’t that special, and you certainly looked like you could loosen up a little. So being the nice guy he is, Sebastian swooped in with a smile and offered you something to help relax, preferably on the back veranda when no one usually hung out during happy hour.

To his surprise and embarrassment, you politely declined his offer before excusing yourself to join some other chicks that just showed up. The fuck? Did you seriously brush up a once-in-lifetime opportunity to hang out with the guy everyone wants to be their friend and amp up their social status? Yes, he knows he's an asshole but damn it this was an insult. Big time. 

He utilized the best tech team money could buy and had a list of your social media accounts in his room Monday morning. After all, there’s no better way to make someone so arrogant know their place in this city than trash their social media accounts. They are a fucking lifeline nowadays; one false move, one nasty little comment, and you were history, finished, forever chained to a part-time job at McDonald’s. God, he is a genius. He is great and yet he is humble. 

He looked through your Viewtube account and saw your most popular ones were either titled study with me or write with me for an hour, gentle piano music. University application advice or tips or capsule wardrobing was a close second. Wait, what? Writing vlogs? The fuck, what were you trying to be, the next Ernest Hemingway or some shit?

“Hey guys, it’s [Username] and welcome back to my channel. For those who are new here, welcome, welcome. I do all sorts of videos on here, so feel free to look around and see what tickles your fancy. In today’s content, I’ll be showing you the next part in my journey for querying an agent for my cozy fantasy novel that I’ve been working on for the last six months. 

I know it’s been a while since the last video, I apologize but things have gotten a little crazy in my corner of the world. All righty, so with that being said, today is ---- and let’s see if I got anything back from the querying letters I sent out. If you all wanna see how this whole crazy journey started, I’ll leave the link down below to the very first episode….”

Before Sebastian realized what was happening, he spent the entire morning watching your writing vlog series right up to the new episode. Holy shit. You were actually real and not fake?! He’s seen a lot of ViewTubers and scrolled through TikTok videos between classes. He knows if someone is putting on a pretty face and aesthetic to rake in the dough for their channel or ramp up the number of subscribers so they can have bragging rights when they reach over 100k. He’s got 500k and counting on his Instagram. 

But you’ve got almost 300k? Just for writing vlogs, fashion advice, and tips on university application processes?! And you started this channel almost two years ago?!

So how come you still rejected him? It didn’t make any sense! Wait, wait. What if he donated to your channel? I mean, you’re not broke or shit but previous posts have shown live-streaming write with me videos where all the donations go to a charity fundraiser to support reading programs? Or was it for an after-school lunch program? 

Whatever it is, he’ll pitch in. If there is a goal you need to meet, he’ll help out under an anonymous name. He can take his time, slowly winning over your trust and appreciation. You want a bigger studio? He can find one with just a phone call to a real estate agent. You need help finding a querying agent? No sweat. Give him a list and he’ll persuade them to give your manuscript a chance. He’s got the connections, the money, so much more than you could ever imagine. All he wants in exchange for his generosity is to take you out for some coffee. Who knows? Maybe he’ll reveal himself as a big fan of your blog, and you’ll finally realize what a great catch he is. 

Just don’t run away this time, okay?

To his surprise, you accepted the random invitation to a coffee date after class on the condition that there would be no casual sex involved. Just caffeine and conversation between two university students for a good hour, or until your next lecture starts. He learned that you had some baggage of your own too. You might not be as rich or as influential as his family, but your family had high expectations for you as well. They wanted you to stop indulging in your Viewtubing 'hobby' and start focusing on the real world.

Streaming content doesn't pay the bills. You are supposed to take over the family business someday. Either that or marry someone just as rich or if not richer and your spouse will take over. It's your choice in the end, just don't be an embarrassment.

After that, he took pity on you and asked if you wanted to hang out a bit more. As friends, of course. Maybe become something a little more if he played his cards right. It'll suck with no drugs and no hook-ups for a while, but his parents might give him just a tiny bit more freedom for 'dating' a picture-perfect girl, right? And this arrangement totally works out for you too!

He just didn't expect the plan to take almost six months to accomplish. You were stubborn all right, and definitely not a picture-perfect girl. What is easy for him is twice as hard for you, yet you were willing to put the effort in whatever assignment or task you had to do. Hell, even making your Viewtube content takes a lot of time because everything has to be perfect, from the lighting and sound to your makeup.

Is it possible to fall more in love with someone than he already is with you? 'Cause he didn't think that being sober and being in your company gave him the best fuckin' high he didn't think was possible.

When the two of you decided to go together at the McGregor’s spring gala, dressed to the nines and playing nice with the other big-wigs, Sebastian thought his family would actually approve of you and know you’re the reason he’s turned over a new leaf.

Alas, they weren’t happy. They were pissed. So were your folks. And just like a scene outta Romeo and Juliet, two star-crossed lovers were separated, forbidden from ever seeing each other again because of their parents. In this modern adaptation, it was due to the high expectations they’ve placed on their children.

“Seb, how could you? I thought you were seeing Marc’s little girl! You remember her, don’t you? We introduced you to each other last month, she goes to same campus as you! Her family is practically a cornerstone in the city’s medical care system! She is going to be a cardiac surgeon. A surgeon for Christ’s sake, and you’re with a streamer? I gave you one simple job, find a worthy fiancée! But even you can’t get that right!” His father grumbled as he pulled him by the arm towards the opposite end of the ballroom.

His mother was right beside him, squeezing his hand with her jeweled one and cooing in his ear.

“Oh honey, [First Name] is a lovely girl but we know you can do so much better than her! She’s not like us. You know that, right? Do you want our family to fall into ruins? To lose our comfortable lifestyle?”

But all Sebastian could feel was his heart plummeting into his stomach as he saw your figure become smaller and smaller, until you vanished completely from his line of sight. No.

No, no, no! This isn’t fair! He’s been good, he’s clean and he hasn’t fucked around with anyone ever since you two started dating! WHY CAN’T YOU LET US BE HAPPY TOGETHER, YOU ASSHOLES?!

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist: @yandere-dark-cupid @somerandomdere @beardedblizzardexpert @solandis-does-stuff @ixchelhernandez4 @pinkgoldweebgirl @obsessedwithromance @itadorismommy @sourlove @lu-zo-san @aiimee9 @detectivesparrow @suiana @slowlyswimmingmoon @valeriinee @dreamlessnight @ozzgin @hotnbloodied @ghostdoodlen @persephone-kore-law @gingeryzobo @blvdmrcnry @nikkiistired @ironicallyyn @alstus @mitra555 @queenofspades403 @moongurl95 @stingywiththeirusername @msfantasy

[milo4d]

“ME & YOU?” — hkr

\\ soft yan streamer bf , mod!user , silly fic for y'all , obsessive , implied stalking in the past , implied doxxing //

Akira likes streaming with you.

You both started with meeting each other through an rpg game, agreeing to become his mod, becoming friends, and then meeting in real life and falling in love. It was a normal cliche love story about two gamers falling for each other in your point of view, what about Akira's point of view?

It remains a secret.

You always wondered how he knew all of your favorite things right off the bat, how he knew your awkward gestures, your hobbies and all of that. Maybe he was just really attentive to the things you did..

Akira wasn't a stalker.

He's sweet, he always takes care of you, putting your wants over his. Both of you communicate when something goes wrong, you balance everything. It was a perfect and a normal relationship.

At least that's what you thought.

hkruu: what r we playing today !!

Not_venti: wsg chattttttt

xX_AMI_Xx: r u playing with ur s/o?

yurisghs: hi akiraaaa [akira_pat]

fatgirlsummer: when's the continuation of Until Then ?? ^^

"Until Then? Uh, I mean, probably next week." Akira's eyes glanced over the chat box, watching as many viewers greeted him with good afternoons and nights. "My significant other?" He raised his right eyebrow curiously, reading aloud one of the questions.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll be able to make it on time.." Akira leaned back on his gaming chair, stretching a little.

killlove_i: nauur why [akira_sob]

Not_venti: skibidi will make it on time trust.

tsukasaaaa: I hope they're well ><

cutiepie101: COOP PKEASE !!!

"I'm probably just gonna farm today, not unless Lisa invites me again." He smiles towards the camera, loading up HSR. "I'm not pulling for uh, rappa? The new character I mean, I forgot their name."

llyyyn: lol same

yurisghs: is she good? Ion look at leaks

Not_venti: I'm pulling:))

lamanbrug_01: goodluck to those pulling!!

sdkwohryuu: I want Sunday [akira_sob]

"I want Sunday too.. physically.." Akira pouts, eventually breaking into a silly smile. The rest of the stream going fine as usual, farming here, doing the new quest, companion quest, pulling for Fei Xaio, you know the rest.

A good hour and a half passes and suddenly there's a;

Ding!

"Hey chat, guess who's home!" Akira suddenly brightened, focusing on the game even more as he patiently waited for the same sentence he always heard every single day. Of course, he'd never get tired of it, never.

"I'm home!" A muffled voice could be heard in the background.

Not_venti: I TOKD U THEYD MAKE IT OJ TIME

xX_AMI_Xx: I js woke up whay happened

yurisghs: caught my lonely ass smiling

yumiwgeo: can't relate @yurisighs

Not_venti: LMAO

"You'll find someone yurisghs!" He snickered, quickly exiting out of HSR and logging onto Genshin instead, the familiar bright screen never failing to blind him.

nnsigma [MOD]: hi chat

Not_venti: hi skibidi

yurisghs: halooo

lynnuoo: wsg

yumiwgeo: [akira_wave]

tsukasaaaa: [akira_wave]

"sup babe, yes I ate, I drank water, I showered, I cooked lunch and I did the laundry." Akira's smirk was evident, quickly doing his commissions in-game. If you're wondering he mains Neuvilette.

nnsigma [MOD]: ok good [akira_pat]

nnsigma [MOD]: let's play dti instead ong

Not_venti: real

Guihimoo: [akira_nod]

"No."

About the said ‘Akira is probably just really attentive’ towards you.. let's expand a little bit on that.

The first time you met each other at a nearby Cafe, you were surprised. The pictures of Akira on discord didn't do justice to what he looks like in real life, this guy was walking around as if he just came out of a red carpet..

Aside from that, his personality was still the same as online. Teasing, snarky, he's still got that attitude, and of course playful — he was the fun type you'd want to be friends with. But, he really was your type.

You couldn't resist glancing towards his neck from time to time, hell — you couldn't even make eye contact without being mentally flustered. "Is something wrong?" He'd ask, but you'd immediately shake your head and go along with what he's saying.

I mean, Akira didn't know your address, why are you asking why he knew the way back to your home? He used to live here.

"W-woah.. we have more in common than I thought!" You beamed while Akira smiled softly, it looks like his hard work did pay off. All that late night searching, perfecting and practicing — it was worth it in the very end because you were finally here.

Akira could see you, touch you, feel you, make you feel things you've never felt — ah, how he wishes he could go back in time just to see your horrified expression when you almost got doxxed by someone anonymous.

Of course, he was the one to comfort you at the time, the way you opened up to him about everything, finally letting him know of your feelings.. It was worth every little thing he had worked hard for.

It didn't matter if he had a small or huge fan base what mattered was you being right beside him, experiencing hardships and hope. Akira could do anything, he could try his best — he's not perfect, he has many flaws he'll admit that.

But..

It was worth it if it was you.

Akira was glad that the world hasn't ended yet. Not that it would happen any time soon but — he'd want to be next to you even if it was a life or death situation.

Extras:

"I'm rating you 1 star for the effort. You suck." Akira tapped on the tablet aggressively, while you squirmed right next to him, trying to desperately get your phone case back on — fumbling quite badly.

"I'm rating you 1 star too!"

"You're just mad I'm a trend setter."

[milo4d]

I was 100% thinking of the Shinsengumi when the brainrot struck, but let us assume a more generic, unnamed circumstance for this. Random, uh, elite group of swordsmen working for the shogunate in the Edo period. Here's the awkward, horny himbo I had previously mentioned. Content: female reader, historical setting, crossdressing, NSFW

Yandere!Captain commands his group with an iron grip. Many people in the Capital know his name, whether it's fellow warriors or petty merchants, and not without reason. His unmatched skill with a sword had even reached the ears of the court, and he was quickly appointed as the head of a newly formed group of samurai meant to maintain order in the city.

As if keeping hot-blooded thugs under control wasn't enough, he is now stuck with an even bigger issue: you.

"We can't have women in here", he declares with a grimace.

"I can pretend", you counter stubbornly, pulling your hakama pants up by the sash, almost in an act of defiance. "In fact, I don't see any woman here. I came to apply."

Yandere!Captain’s reputation does not only revolve around his intimidating strength. Among his underlings, he is known for being completely and utterly uninterested when it comes to women. Will he join his group for drinks after a long day of work? Absolutely. But that’s where the fun stops. When the others begin to slip away with smiling courtesans, he remains at the table with a somber countenance. It is a running joke that nothing can deter this man from his duty.

Thus, your presence at the headquarters should make no difference. He had to begrudgingly accept that you spoke the truth when you'd said you can handle a sword. It's not uncommon for women to keep a small tanto underneath their obi for additional protection, but your knowledge doesn't stop there. You arrived with your own katana and backup wakizashi, swiftly proving their worth upon your first city round when you slashed the arm off a street hooligan.

Well, that's one less worry for the captain. Except, to his great shame, it's not as simple as that. He is the only one aware of your secret, which means that he is the only one available outside of working hours. He was terrified to discover the hesitation in his hands when bandaging your ribs after a stabbing incident, or the halt in his step when he happened to find you switching to a night gown. Oh, how deplorable! Have his morals crumbled into nothing? His latest perverted thought nearly caused him to draw a blade across his stomach.

It is with this faltering confidence that he greets you before the bath one evening.

“You don’t have to do this”, you tell him. "I can wait until you're done."

His struggles haven't escaped your observant eye. You were initially amused by his rather obvious awkwardness; then, a certain idea insidiously made its way into your mind, impossibly tempting: for how long could he keep this façade?

You find yourself going out of your way just to tease your poor captain, perhaps secretly hoping he'll soon break down and give in to his yearning.

“They will become suspicious if you never join us. I do not care for your nudity. Undress at ease”, he says, throwing away his own towel and lowering himself into the hot water. “Get in whenever you want.”

If he insists.

You nonchalantly follow suit, sitting across from him with your arms resting against the rocky edge of the hot spring. You can tell his eyes have wandered involuntarily. His face is red, and he’s wearing a humiliated frown.

“You’re awfully quiet, Sir.”

His lips are pursed indeed. The tall man shuffles briefly, avoiding your gaze. A smirk crosses your features as you decide to approach him.

"In fact, I'd go as far as you say that you're in dire need of help."

To your surprise, he doesn't protest when your hands stray to his lower half, feeling up and down his erection. The small grunts escaping his mouth encourage you to pick up the pace, now equally aroused.

Soon, you feel his heavy arm wrapping around your waist, forcefully throwing you out of the water and onto the cold ground. You open your mouth to complain, but it's quickly shut back by his hot lips, suckling and biting in a desperate hunger to have you.

“It’s improper for a subordinate to take the lead”, he finally says in a low, breaking voice.

He can only hope no one else decides to use the hot springs, though that’s as far as his concern currently goes. He’s much too preoccupied with other pressing matters, holding onto your folded legs for support as he thrusts into you in a depraved, delirious need. His movements are jerky and erratic, with an almost predatory glimmer in his eyes. You wonder how often he imagined this happening. All of his shame and guilt, coming undone at once.

Days later, during one of the hangouts, you find him whispering to one of the courtesans.

“What, you suddenly have a taste for women now?” you question discreetly, unable to hold your tongue.

You’d hoped to be on the receiving end of any future lust-driven gestures from the captain, not some common worker.

He appears to hesitate, twiddling his thumbs and glancing away.

“I was just…asking how you properly please a woman”, he finally confesses.

If he’s going to continue fucking his subordinate behind everyone’s back, he may as well do a good job while at it.

[More Original Works] | [Yan!Swordsman Concept]

[milo4d]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄?

— YANDERE EMPEROR x GN READER

tags. historical/regency au. arranged marriage. half-angel!emperor. sub!yan & dom!reader undertones. mild blood & violence tw. suggestive content. mention of reader 'fucking' yan.

first part/reader's pov.

The Imperial Family is said to be descendants of angels.

It is evident in Castiel's entire being — with silver-white hair and amber eyes that seem to glow, a slender figure and milky soft skin. He heals too fast and tires too little. He is more beast than human.

When Mother tells him of his marriage arrangement, he cannot deny he wasn't unhappy. His spouse would see him for no more than his title, and treat him no less than an Emperor. Then, when the time came for him to produce an heir, his spouse would have to die.

Castiel is not a cruel man. He cannot subject you nor his child to the same thing generations of emperors and empresses had gone through before him.

… He had never expected to like you.

You're refreshingly different, and he finds himself seeking you out more and more. You're not charmed by him at all, nor do you fear him. You don't hate him, neither do you like him. You only meet his gaze dead-on, cold and aloof and bored.

They say your family were descendants of a god. Perhaps…

He tests his theory out one day, gifting you some books from the restricted section of the Imperial Library. They're books only the Imperial Family can read, written in the language of the divine. If your blood contained even a droplet of ichor, you would be able to read it too.

He doesn't know what you like to read, so he picks a bit of everything.

“Darling, these are all for you! I heard from the maids you were bored.”

You're holed away in your bedroom as usual. It's far too small for you for his tastes, but you wouldn't accept a larger bedchamber. No matter. He'll solve that problem later.

You take a curt glance at the books he's set on your desk, looking up at him sceptically. “Fairytales? I know where the library is. I can walk there myself if I wanted to read.”

He can't bite back the grin that splits across his face.

“My apologies. What genre do you fancy the most? I'll get something you'll like next time.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

He's shaking.

He stares in frozen horror at the blood pooling by his feet, and at his mother’s mangled body.

Castiel is not a cruel man. He isn't. He —

— He had tortured someone. He had tortured his mother.

He had been conversing with her over afternoon tea. He had told her of his discovery, of how you truly were a god. She had praised him, and said you'd be the perfect sacrifice, the perfect host for his heir.

He had seen red.

You are his. He won't — he can't — kill you. If he was an angel, then you were a god. To harm you would be blasphemy.

A shaky laugh leaves his lips. Oh dear heavens. The Empress was dead. He had killed her. For you.

What is he supposed to do now?

A soft gasp sounds from behind him.

“What did you do?”

It's you. Time clicks back into place instantly, and everything rushes back to him. You are here. You are here, and you will know what to do. You would fix — fix this.

He runs up to you, the sword in his hand clattering to the ground. Scooping you into a hug, he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

"I killed her. She said —” He stops himself there. Mother had said it was time to kill you. How could he bring himself to tell you that? He swallows.

“— She said that gods didn't exist any longer. How could they not? You're standing right before me. She said that gods didn't exist, and I killed her for it.”

Then he's rambling, the words slipping from his lips faster than his mind can catch up with them. He fiddles with your hand as he does, grounding himself with your touch.

You don't push him away, and for that, he thinks he could kneel and worship and kiss your feet.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Castiel becomes the Emperor, and you become his god.

He knows you couldn't care less about him, but that is exactly how it should be. As long as you are tied to him, as long as you are his, whatever attention you choose to bestow upon him is whatever he will accept.

Then… you adopt a stray. A mangy, good for nothing demon. A demon.

You like the damned thing, even going so far as to appoint it your personal retainer. He's glad you finally seem happy for once, he really is, but…

“Hey, I can have consorts, can't I?”

He thinks you might just hate him after all. He curls up further into your side, wrapping his arms around yours tightly. You've only just fucked him so hard he saw stars, and now you're asking about consorts?

He hesitates. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask him dryly.

He can't help but whine. Is he not enough for you?

He's being stupid, isn't he? Of course he isn't. You are purely divine, and he is merely…

That demon you seemed to favour so much… He supposes you could've picked a worse bed partner. A demon was but a fallen angel, and angels were the creation of gods.

“You may do whatever you wish,” he tells you softly. “No one in the world would dare to stop you.”

You laugh. “You can have consorts if you want too.”

His heart twists. Just what do you think of him? Fervently, he shakes his head, denying your permission. He'd never. He won't. He can't. He'd rather die before he let someone else touch him the way you do.

He presses a kiss to your jaw, slowly inching upwards. You chuckle softly, hand reaching to cup the back of his head. Satisfaction wells in his gut. Even if you did take that demon as your lover, you would still be his spouse. You are his, first and foremost, and you always will be.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He melts.

end notes. a little tamer this time, but i wanted to flesh out the emperor a bit more :] again, thank you to the one who suggested the name castiel! the next post will probably be more on the reader x the demon ^^

@ valekhor , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[milo4d]

𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐃.

— YANDERE EMPEROR x GN READER

tags. historical/regency au. arranged marriage. half-angel!emperor. sub!yan & dom!reader undertones. mild blood & violence tw. suggestive & mature content. mild degradation.

Yandere!Emperor, who you've been arranged to be wed to since the moment you were born. It was all part of a peace treaty, see. Your parents — King and Queen of a kingdom that simply paled in comparison to the Empire — could not afford a war, yet neither did they want their kingdom to be annexed.

So, they simply sold your soul to the devil instead.

'Devil' was an understatement. The Imperial Family was said to have been descended from angels, and those with even a droplet of imperial blood far outshone regular humans. And what was a devil but a fallen angel? They were even said to have magic powers, but no one ever lived to tell the tale anyway.

Angels, demons, gods... It was all the same to you.

None of the nobles in the Empire wanted their heirs to be tied to monsters like that, and the Empress had wanted her son's spouse to have only the purest of blood — so, who better than the family rumored to be descended from a god?

You meet him for the very first time when the both of you are 18 years of age. Your parents had packed you a month's worth of clothes and sent you off, just like that. You were supposed to 'get to know him' and whatever before you got married at 20, but you see no point. In the end, you are tied with him for life.

Truly, rumours and portraits did him no justice.

He stands half a head taller than you, gaze piercing and posture prim. His hair is a pure, blinding white, and his eyes are yellow as glittering gold. It's long, even tied in a ponytail, reaching his waist.

He greets you politely, kissing the back of your hand when you offer it, and leading you to the parlour silently. Despite it all, you can see right through his facade. He runs too cold for a human, and smiles too sharp. Behind his eyes is nothing but a demon masquerading as a man.

You decide then and there you want nothing to do with him.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

On the other hand, he is taken with you instantly. Right from the very start, you seem completely disinterested in him.

Disinterested.

No one has treated him that way in his entire life. He's only ever been fawned over or feared, and nothing in between. All of them saw him as a inhuman.

But you?

You don't seem to care about him at all.

It sends a thrill shooting within him, right down to the tips of his toes. He wants to test the limits of your distinterest. He wants to win you over. He wants to see you hate him. He wants...

"What do you think?" his mother asks him, after the short meeting has concluded and he has seen you to your bedroom.

He grins. "I believe they're perfect."

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The month you spend in the Imperial Palace is an odd one.

The Crown Prince had been practically glued to your side, which killed all your chances of socializing with the nobles in the area. One day, you snapped and demanded he left you alone. He did.

... For some reason, he seemed strangely happy as he left.

It only took about three days before he was back to badgering you. This time, you made (threatened) him give you some free time on the weekends.

Then, a month flies by, and you're on your way back to your kingdom.

"Farewell, darling," he says, almost mournfully. He kisses the back of your hand like he always does, but this time, it seems to linger. "I eagerly await our next meeting."

You don't deign to reply, snatching your hand away and stepping into the carriage.

There's an odd glint in his eye as he watches you leave.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Not a week since your return home is when you find him at your castle gates. He's brought nothing with him but a carriage filled with gifts. For you.

There's just about everything you can think of. Jewellery, clothes, books...

"What in the world are you doing here?" you hiss.

"I simply missed your presence," he says happily. "I do hope you like the gifts I've prepared for you!"

"We aren't supposed to meet until a week before the wedding," you remind him dryly. "That's in two years."

"Oh, heavens," he gasps, obviously faking his surprise. "Haven't you received my letter? The wedding has been rescheduled to a week from now!"

What the fuck...?

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The wedding passes by in a blur. He had prepared everything in advance. The decorations, the venue, the clothes... Not a thing was out of place. Didn't wedding preparations take months?

He tells you not to worry about it when you ask.

He leads you to his bedchambers where the two of you will have your first night. Though his strides are elegant as always, there is an urgency to it you've never seen before. His eyes gleam.

Yet the moment the both of you are undressed, his prior confidence seems to have been reduced to ashes. He stares at you unmovingly, waiting for you to make the first move. His skin is flushed, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck.

You roll your eyes. If he weren't so good looking...

"What are you waiting for? Get on the bed," you snap. "Let's just get this over with."

He is, you soon realise, terribly eager and just as terrible in bed.

You have your hands in his hair, and he has his lips on your neck. When he bites into a particularly sensitive spot, you jerk and tug on accident, and he lets out a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of his head. White paints the sheets, and your stomach.

"God, you're useless at this, aren't you? We haven't even started yet."

From the sounds he's making, it seems as if he couldn't agree more. He keens into you further, sucking and biting and licking as if his life depends on it. In no time at all, his cock presses into your stomach once more.

Well, at least he has the stamina.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The Empress is dead.

The Crown Prince had killed her.

There's blood dripping from his sword, a manic grin on his lips. His clothes are stained red. The Empress' body lies cold on the ground not five feet away from him.

"What did you do...?"

When he notices your presence, he can't help but light up. He rushes to you cheerfully, his sword clattering to the ground. Wrapping you up in a tight hug, he nuzzles his face into your neck. You tense, gaze still fixated on the body on the ground.

"I killed her. She said that gods didn't exist any longer. How could they not? You're standing right before me. She said that gods didn't exist, and I killed her for it."

He's rambling now, muffled into your skin. You can feel his blood-stained hands grasp yours, toying with your fingers and knuckles and wrist. He's rambling now, but all you see is how he had severed all her limbs.

"... I want to give you everything. Then, I realised that if I was to have everything, I have to be Emperor. But Mother would never relinquish her throne unless she were dead. So now she is. Are you listening? Darling?"

"Yeah," you force out, through gritted teeth. "I heard you just fine."

He giggles.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Yandere!Emperor, who now somehow seems to see you as a god.

"If I've descended from an angel, then it's only right you've descended from a god. Look at you, darling, you're divine."

"That's cute," you comment lazily.

The both of you are lying in bed. You have a book in your hands, whilst he stares at you as you read. Things like this have long become a regular occurrence.

Then, he takes one of your hands and starts to play with your fingers. He kisses every knuckle, every joint, then begins to nibble on your thumb.

You scowl, and attempt to snatch your hand away. His grip is too tight for you to do so. "What are you doing? That's disgusting."

He blushes. "You... taste divine as well. Please, allow me?"

What's the point of saying no? He'd only whine until you agreed anyway. Still, he is hot when he acts all pathetic.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

"Please..." he nearly sobs, tears running down his cheeks.

He's worked himself up into a frenzy just by playing with your hand, and now he's resorted to begging for your attention. His grip on your arm is tight, and his forehead presses against your shoulder.

His side of the bed is already soaked with sweat and tears and pre-come.

You sigh, flipping a page of your book. "I said I'm busy."

You grasp him by his hair and pull him up to your eye level. He spasms. He's writhing in place, twisting and turning and keening into nothing in his delirium. His eyes are glassy, now only garbled words leaving his lips.

You can make out a few. Like 'please', 'god', and 'yes'. For the first in time years, you smile. This can almost be considered nice.

Bring your lips to his, he eagerly meets you halfway. He tastes salty from all his tears, but also a hint of sweet. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard.

And that is enough.

He shrieks, debauched and utterly gone.

His high lasts longer this time, ropes of white spilling and spilling and spilling from his tip. He's heaving, and crying, and muttering thank you so reverently you'd think he was speaking to a god. To him, you certainly are.

You let go of his hair, his head dropping onto the pillow with a soft thud. The sheets are completely soiled, and so are your clothes.

You click your tongue in annoyance, looking at the book in your lap. He had stained that too.

end notes. i want to give him a name, but i don't really have many ideas. any suggestions? this is my first fic here, hope you enjoyed!

@ valekhor , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[milo4d]

Like nana

[milo4d]

idea pitch (adonis and dion fics in the works i promise), tell me if yall like this and if this should get a full oc + fics

yandere!sea spirit who is just a minor sea deity and met you, the moon goddess, one day. he's instantly drawn to you, as the tides are to the moon.

yandere!sea spirit who stares at you longingly every night as you come out from hiding, dragging the moon on your chariot. the legends say that you've fallen for a mere human before, and a sleeping youth at that! if a human had a chance for your affections, surely he would too?

yandere!sea spirit who gathers seashells and sparking stones he finds during his day to slowly weave the perfect necklace for you. he wants to court you properly, and the first thing that he must do is make you the greatest gift. and then he will imbue the necklace with a conjuration that brings you safety and peace.

yandere!sea spirit who finds the courage to talk to you one night. he was a stuttering and blushing mess, but you gave him a lighthearted laugh and suddenly nothing mattered anymore. only you and your joy did, at that very moment, and he was smitten. after you left, he was crestfallen realizing that he forgot to give you the necklace he made.

yandere!sea spirit who yearns to talk to you again, staring up at the night sky day by day, hoping to catch your attention for yet another moment.

yandere!sea spirit who attends the party thrown by the gods (luckily invited, though he was just a sea spirit), finding you easily in the crowd. clutching the necklace tightly in his hand, he moves through the crowd, an urgent river in the stream of people.

yandere!sea spirit who lights up as he finally reaches you. he composes himself, checking to make sure the necklace is still in perfect condition. he's about to talk to you until he sees a scathing light next to you, a burning devastation.

yandere!sea spirit who finds out that you're engaged to the sun god. you're too happy about that, and he's oh so very jealous. the sea and the moon are meant to be; the sun and moon are fated to never meet. so why aren't you looking at him instead?

yandere!sea spirit who leaves that night without gifting you the necklace. but that doesn't matter; you and him are drawn to each other like magnets, he knows, so he will bide his time and wait for the right time to bring you to him. even if it means usurping the greatest ocean god, even if it means he has to become the embodiment of the sea. he isn't in a hurry; he will wait a millennium if he has to.

and then the sea will swallow the moon, caging her gently in his worshipping warm waters. the sky and the sun didn't deserve to have you.

-> masterlist

[milo4d]

Yandere Elf x Reader - Escape

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru (thank you so much for making him, I owe you my soul)

Part 2

Word Count: 1000

The silky hair bellowed behind the tall, grinning elf, as he skipped back home. Having found wild strawberries and thyme in the forest, Silas was excited to bake a beautiful cake for his little treasure.

Oh, how they love my cakes with my special fondant! I can’t wait to see them!

The elf practically floated back to your shared home, wanting to see your cute little face when he burst through the door. Briskly strutting to the oak tree door, he grasped the handle, infusing it with magic, and opened it quickly.

“My sweet! I’m back! Look what I found in the woods!”, he called gingerly.

No answer. But this was normal.

“Daaaarling!”, he cooed with his hand next to his mouth, placing the basket on the dining table, after closing (and locking) the door behind him. Silas looked around, his tresses floating as if in water behind him. The home looked just like when he left it, with a few furniture items moved slightly. That was no cause for concern, either. His darling usually stacked items in his absence. Why, he did not truly know.  

Is this the game you like to play? Conceal and Find, was it?

Silas looked in closets, under the bed, under pillows, under rugs, in big kitchen pots, in every nook and cranny he usually found his sweetheart tucked away when he played your game. Still with a slight smile etched across his face, that flickered briefly, the elf placed his hands on his hips and looked around the living room once again.

“Oh, darling. You’ve got me. Come out now, it’s almost time for dinner!”

Silence, besides the brief rustling of his attire while he traced around the room, checking a few spots he had already looked at. A cold ripple slithered up his spine. He had usually found you by now with his keener senses.

Silas felt the kiss of a breeze on the back of his nape, turning his head to see the high window slightly ajar. Below it was a dining room chair. On the ground, three big boxes of his collection of human toys lay upside down or strangely tilted, a bit dented – like they had fallen down from somewhere.

Squinting his eyes slightly, he identified soft nail markings on the windowsill and foot scrapings on the wall. Even some of that gorgeous hair his beloved had, littered the frame of the narrow window.

His whole being thundered with horror. The, albeit slow, realization that … you had gotten out! Through the high window – a feat the elf had thought was impossible for such a short being.

Silas crashed through the door, whipping his hair back and forth in a frenzy.

“Darling!?!” he squealed. “It’s not safe out here! Come back to Mama!” His eyes darted to the ground, where he quickly discovered some deep footprints, even knee markings, in the wet soil. Thank the trees it had rained the night before. It seemed his precious had fallen from the window down into the soil. Oh no! Were you hurt????

The tears stung his eyes and marked his ethereal, yet panic-stricken visage, as he bolted after the trail you had unwillingly left behind. Pummeling through the trees and thickets, a few branches scraped his wide chest and cheeks. He didn’t seem to notice or care. Loud whimpers escaped him, but these were dedicated to the potential loss of his love.

Silas bolted through the forest, looking erratically in every little corner his wet elven eyes could pear into, continuously squeaking the words “Darling” and “My love” into the distance. As he dashed into a small clearing, he saw the footprints once again, leading to a hollow tree trunk.

Sobbing loudly, he tilted his head, as he bent down, letting his golden locks collect on the grass. A pair of angry eyes met his.

“DARLING!”, he yelped, seeing your small frame crumbled against the wood holding a severely bruised knee. His face was completely soaked, with new tears cascading down relentlessly, in sweet relief that he had found you.

You stared at him weakly, but said nothing. Internally, you were screaming. Why had the window been so goddamn high? And why had it been so freaking tiny? If not for the stinging pain in your legs, you probably would’ve gotten away.

Silas forcefully pulled you out of the husk and squeezed you into his body, your face buried in his scratched up, enormous chest.

“YOU’RE HURT! MY POOR LITTLE ANGEL!”, the tears were dripping onto your head, drenching your scalp. The elf pulled you up to him, hands under your armpits and forced you to stare into his desperately weepy face. He sniffled disgustingly, looking down at the bloody knee: “Here, let me-“

As he tried to bring your wounded leg up to his lips, you recoiled hastily. Silas lost hold of your leg, but still maintained his grip on your back.

“Oh, my love. You must be in so much pain! You must’ve been scared to death out here!”, he croaked and slung his massive arms around them – despite the excessive wriggling. He put his thumb on your chin and yanked you into a deep caress. Feeling your soft lips made his tears dry slightly, as he sighed heavily into your face. No matter how much you tried to wince away, Silas hold was so robust, that no amount of struggle helped.

That damn saliva of his. You felt your body weaken even further, with a tingly sensation trailing through your lower half.

Finally releasing your lips, his eyes glittered as he gently stroked your face, ignoring the death glare.

“Come, let’s go home. I can treat your wounds better there.”

Carrying you in his arms and plastering kisses all over your face, Silas walked briskly towards your home.

“I found strawberries!” His mood was suddenly as chipper as a small child’s in the rain as he pranced through the forest. “I’ll bake you a cake after our bath!”

You let your head hang in defiance, but there was no point of fighting.

“Fine,” you murmured through gritted teeth.

What was it with this stupid elf?

[milo4d]

4:24 am - yan coworker

authors note: i’m classifying this as some sort of angsty smut

rough fingers grasped at strands of hair, petting, stroking, while soft murmers slipped out of yan coworkers lips.

you weren't here. the you he held was but a incomplete replica. he snuggled his head into the crook of a mannequins shoulder, his large hand covering the chest area of the doll. he held it close, as if he would start feeling warmth seep through, as if he could look into the glass eyes of this inanimate figure and the life and light of your eyes would be reflected back.

”i love you,” he whispered, and the soft words hung in the night air like heavy stars, before they were blown away by a passing breeze.

how much longer was he to wait for you? he felt like he was going through withdrawals, every moment he wasn’t in your presence.

yan coworker closed his eyes, hand roaming the body of the manniquin, searching restlessly for a warmth that wasn’t there. frustrated, he straddled the object, determined to transfer his life and heat onto you. he imagined you under him like this and a groan slipped out of him, his hips bucking forward without second thought. in a sleepy daze he meaningless grinded against the doll, sadness seeping into the cracks of his heart.

how he would love to hold you, to protect you against the world. how he would hold you in bed like this, listening to your shallow breaths as you slept in his arms. he would kiss your head, bury his face in your sweet smelling hair, and inhale your perfect scent.

fingers gripped against the mannequins hips and he imagined the beautiful marks it would have left if it was your skin instead. he panted your name quietly into the shoulder of the mannequin, not feeling a hint of embarrassment as he imagined you panting his own name back.

he stroked the mannequins hair between thrusts, pulling it closer till he could convince himself almost fully it was your body pressed against his.

oh how he loved you, and how he needed you.

yan coworker let out a low groan as friction between you two sent flutters through his lower body, feeling impatience grow in his gut.

the waiting game was over, and now it was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted.

all works belong to and written by @agentsinopia

[milo4d]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Yandere neighbor who first notices you when you walk past him with huge boxes in your hand

Yandere neighbor who didnt think anything of it until he saw you more and more around his house

Yandere neighbor who thought you were a stalker until you went inside the house next to his

Yandere neighbor who facepalms for thinking you were stalking him when you were just his neighbor

Yandere neighbor who finally talked to you, saying hello when you walked by him, you smiled sweetly at him, and waved before walking away

Yandere neighbor who fists his cock in his room at the memory of your sickeningly sweet smile, whimpering and crying out tears from the overstimulation

yandere neighbor who finally tries to have a conversation with you, stuttering and muttering every word he says out of pure nervousness

yandere neighbor who stared at your lips during the conversation, wondering how would they feel on his cock lips

yandere neighbor who now everyday waits outside of his house, sitting on his comfy chair he placed on his porch, waiting for you to come out so he could strike up convo with u

Yandere neighbor who you now regularly talk to, and has hearts in his eyes everytime you guys talk

yandere neighbor who finally becomes your bestfriend

yandere neighbor who tells you that your date wasnt worth of your time when they ditched you, patting your back, holding back a smile knowing he beat your date into a bloody pulp so you wouldnt be dating anyone

yandere neighbor who gives you his whole card and tells you to go to a self care day

yandere neighbor who pays for your nails and bills as if you were his girlfriend

yandere neighbor who treats you like an absolute queen, kissing you legs as you watch your fav comfort show

yandere neighbor who now wants you to move in with him, wanting to spend every minute of his day with you

yandere neighbor who pouts when you refused, but perked up when you said you want to go on a date with him

yandere neighbor who treats you as if you were a deity and he was a piece of dirt on the date, opening doors, and everything!

yandere neighbor who kicks his feet and giggles when you say that you loved the date, and you want to go on another one

yandere neighbor who loves his sweet neighbor so much, he would kill! <3

SORRY FOR THE MISSPELLINGS ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

MY BESTIE REQUESTED THIS SO YAYAY

[milo4d]

Extra extra! Arthur x Reader: part 1

Tabloid Journalist! Undercover! Reader x Old money! Yandere! Tutor

“What are your socials?” He thumbs through his phone as he waits for you to pack up, rather impatiently. Arthur had been tutoring you for the last hour or two. While he started with just English it was clear after a couple sessions that your math, history, science, and- well pretty much everything needed a spruce up. The idea of someone under his tutelage looking that dumb under his care ground his gears. So now the study sessions lasted hours for most days of the week. 

“You getting soft on me Artie? What happened to- This is just tutoring. I’m not your friend and I never will be,” You made your voice nasally and pushed up some imaginary glasses. 

“And we won’t be. I just want your instagram,” He rolls his eyes and subconsciously adjusts his very real glasses. You were everything he detested in most people his age. You had no manners, you didn’t take much of anything seriously, you were all play and no work. Or so he thought. The longer the two of you spent time with one another he realized maybe the things he thought were common were actually quite… good. 

“I don’t have one. I don’t have any social media actually. I find life more zen without them,” You shrug and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“Pretentious, but alright.” 

“Oh, I do not want to hear that from you. Mr. I only read classic literature and drink plain hot black tea,” the empty library and setting sun added to the pressure of getting going, “Can you watch my things real quick actually. I have to run to the bathroom before I skedattle.”

“Got a hot date?” He leaned back on the hind legs of his chair. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth but it was entirely plausible. You shouldn’t be focusing on dates with the state of your grades but you weren’t unattractive. It wouldn’t surprise him if you were asked out by some of the jackasses he sees hanging all over you upon occasion. Maybe if you shared socials he can keep tabs and make sure you’re putting your energy in the right activities. 

“No, I just have dinner with Professor Lysander a couple nights a week in town. A home cooked meal beats the cafeteria any day,” The school cafeteria was nothing to sniff at. Five star chefs catered every meal of the day and even snacks. There was always something about home cooked meals though, growing up with family dinners you were elated to finally be rid of them as an adult, but as it turns out it just wasn’t the same without them. You try and not let on just how urgent the whole bathroom thing was weighing on you but you definitely wanted to finish this conversation quickly. Arthur pulled a disgusted face that just screamed ‘Egads! How uncouth!’ In that posh accent of his. 

“At his house? That’s a bit inappropriate, don’t you think? What if he’s some kind of closet psycho?” He let his chair fall back into place with a muted thud. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be right back,” you waved him off absentmindedly and subtly sped off to the restroom. Arthur scoffed and eyed your bag sitting where you sat in your stead. He looked around to see if there was anyone else around before flipping it open and peering inside, your pins jingled softly with the motion.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. There were books, pens, pads, and a tube of lipgloss. The pockets however were also full. Keys, gum, and… a camera. Cameras were strictly forbidden on campus, this college was as close to a secret at you could get and the staff intended to keep it that way. A loud buzz made him nearly jump out of his chair, he put everything back in your bag and looked for the source of the noise. Your phone’s Lock Screen was aglow with notifications. While the content was hidden on the standby screen, the apps were clear as day. Instagram, Snapchat, BeReal, even Pinterest. Did you seriously not want him to follow you that badly? 

The sound of your heels clicked and he leaned back in his chair, forcing a casual posture. “Thanks, for watching my stuff and thanks again for tutoring. You might be an asshole but you aren’t a half bad teacher,” You picked up your bag once more and gestured to the door. 

“Yeah, sure, fine,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I’m going with you to Lysander’s. If there isn’t anything weird going on, surly the invitation is open to all his students,” his hand just barely ghosted the small of your back as you both left the library. 

“Okay, I don’t see why not. Whatever helps you sleep at night man. I hope you like quiche,” You shrugged. 

[milo4d]

Extra Extra! (various yandere x reader)

Trashy Journalist! Reader x Rich nepo! Yanderes

You were a journalist (if you can even call yourself that) for gossip rags, infamous for getting the scoop no matter the danger. So when the opportunity comes along to go to the exclusive Hail Mary college you take it. Your contact set you up with a fake identity and background to make sure you’d fit in just so. This was the school for the elite and a last ditch effort of parents to straighten out their kids before handing over the keys to the kingdom. While being higher education this place much more reflected high school with its strict class requirements and uniforms. Most people haven’t even heard of it — it’s not even google-able, that’s how exclusive this shit is. Cracking this case wide open would mean you and your parents would be set for life. Little did you know that this would change your life forever but not in any way you could fathom. 

There was Clayton, one of the first friends you met when starting. He focused on sports and shared his American snacks with you. It was hard to smuggle that sweet sweet red 40 but it was worth it. Soon he asked you to come to his games, he played as many sports as he could get his hands on and excelled in all of them. Practically, wrote the book on golden retriever energy. The sexy southern drawl made sense since his family were frackers in the oil trade. Games turned into study sessions, into movie nights, into sleepovers. He was just a touchy guy, it’s not like it meant anything. It was hard to get the scoop on others without blowing your cover with him all up in your business, but he was protective in an older brother way that felt useful for now. 

You knew Hendrix before you even met him. Somehow even though he was just about as old as you, he had already reached rock god status. He always knew a way to sneak out of class and a new place to hide a flask. Not to mention you could throw nearly any instrument at him and he could bang out a melody that could make a secret service agent cry. That isn’t the only banging he’s fond of either. His extra circulars included Carmen, Tiffany, Pauline, Brooke, etc… He even tried to sway you the second time y’all bumped into each other. In a low moment you might have let it happen a time or two but that was the end of that. He was okay with putting an end to it as long as being friends was still on the table. Hend was a little gossip and loved to talk shit with you so you kept him around. 

Arthur took more time to ware down than you’d like to admit. He began as your tutor in just one subject and then he realized that you were utterly useless in nearly all of them. Letting a dweeb like you under his care fail would besmirch his good name so he set aside a couple hours every day to go over the material with you. He was an academic at heart, a real old money type. Doesn’t need to try for much of anything and can just skate by knowing he is better than everyone else. You were the first person not afraid of his title, when he tore into you- you’d give it right back. The study sessions got longer and eventually branched out from the library. Sometimes it was a cafe in town or a bookstore, maybe your dorm or his. 

Brayden was a loud personality tolerated by few at this school. He was new money and not worth anyone’s time. That is, except yours. His wealth may only go back a generation or two but his tree still has some bad apples and questionable soil. The good news is that he’s really actually brilliant! Unfortunately, he’s also spoiled beyond belief. He wants what he wants when he wants it. He texted you, like a lot. Memes, texts, u up?’s, anything and everything. He was clingy with a capital C. He’s always leaving little gifts around for you. A little robot that dances for laughter, a watch that doesn’t tell time but shows various pictures of him like a slideshow, even a camera disguised as a teddy bear. You failed to understand the inner machinations of his mind but couldn’t help but respect it, weirdness and all. 

Haruki actually walked you around your first day and stuck around ever since. He was an extrovert if you’ve ever seen one. Despite his minimalist and conservative clothing style it didn’t stop you from noticing the crazy ink he had all over his body. The tattoos peeked out around his neck and wrists even though he tried to cover it up as best as he could. He would have to try a lot harder if he wanted to hide the fact that he was primed to take over the yakuza for his father. It was hard to imagine this guy drawing blood, he was just so down to earth and chill. While his family was clearly suspect it seemed like he planned on doing things his way and while you can respect it, it doesn’t make for good ratings. When you tried to pull away he would always pull back just a little harder. 

Liam was just a normal guy. It seemed that the fame and riches didn’t effect him at all. His family had a generic generational wealth of one patriarch using the last’s money to create a business and passing it down, wash, rinse, repeat. While this appears like a dead end, there’s a sort of edge to him that keeps you coming back for more. He knows the secret passage ways in the school and takes you through them regularly. Sometimes to get extra dessert from the mess hall after hours or to over hear a conversation in the den, he was a real one and usually down for just about anything. And I mean anything. It definitely bothered him that he didn’t have any particular skills or any real motivations but you were supportive in a way he wasn’t used to. It never really mattered if he tried because there was no real winning or losing. You were his rock in his uncertainty. 

Your English professor preferred that you call him by his first name, which then he clarified that he wanted the whole class to because if it were just you that would be weird and not appropriate. Anyway, Lysander was tweed jackets and Oxford shoes. A typical round glasses wearing teacher. He helped you out with a point or two on a test and sometimes you have tea with him at his house just off campus. You helped him find his lost cat one evening and he found your company preferable to the silence (which wasn’t usual for him). The more times you visit him the more you get the feeling that he’s hiding something though. You have a radar for this of course. It’s not something he wants anyone to know, which meant you were going to do anything in your power to find out. He was of humble origins like you but a story is a story nonetheless. 

[milo4d]

call avoidance.

Yandere Hotline: 3/?

featuring: implied drugging. implied tresspassing. lots of male masturbation. unsolicited phone sex (?). implied kidnapping. AFAB!Reader (yan calling reader mommy)

note: this is written while half-asleep. not edited. brain go brrr. i'll add the src some time.

Dealing with mad people can drive anyone insane. But if you're given a hefty sum to keep the insane ones company, you'll take. Life is tough, but you can choose your own hell.

"Got you some drink. Your favorite flavor," Heidi, your 'neighbor' in cubicle, said cheerfully as she placed the drink and sandwich on your spot.

"Well, who are we kidding." You shook your head before placing the plastic cup in your trash bin along with the tasty sandwich that came with it. "They're really persistent, you know?"

You smiled sheepishly as you arrange your cubicle to start a new day. Unlike your workmates, your place is quite neat and devoid of anything that would identify that spot as yours.

No personal images pinned on the corkboard. Not even a framed picture of whoever inspires you to get up and work hard without becoming insane yourself.

Upon accepting the job offer, you made sure to draw the most visible line to keep your personal life to yourself. You've heard some stories—some myths—about some agents disappearing without any trace overnight. Like they never existed in the first place.

"I hope they fuck off, you know?" You sighed before putting on your noise-cancelling headphones. "May we survive this shift," you grumbled as you wait for the first call with baited breath.

You have frequent customers. Most of them were pleasant to talk to. Let's just say that they're not exactly the dangerous type of callers. Those type clients were, most likely, drawn to the idea of being a 'yandere' as a fantasy. Sometimes, there's a hint of sexualization.

Almost every person on the floor are taking calls. Including you. However, your gut's been telling you to ignore the call. Maybe it's one of those unhinged callers who believes that you're theirs. Like they own you and all of your time.

You still have some available credits for call avoidance since you rarely used your credits. Surely, this one call will not affect your performance rating.

While waiting for the phone to stop ringing, you decided to clean up your work email. Being bombarded with useless newsletters about food and books on sale is the worse. Not only does it make your inbox crowded, it's also spammy.

You were fightung the urge to just select all and delete everything at once when you suddenly heard a notification. One after another.

One from your email, another one from your messaging app, and lastly—from the internal chatroom.

You opened the email with an attachment. It was a blank email but as soon as the preview for the attachment appeared, you almost gagged.

It was an image of a man's cock. There were translucent liquid splattered everywhere while the tip of his dick is on a cup—filled to the brim with iced coffee with foamy top. Your favorite.

Your hands were shaking as you exit the window of the website. You clicked the messaging app first. 'Perhaps it was just a promotional message from one of those companies.'

But no.

It was a message from a private number. You don't have any idea how they did it, but they kept sending you images. Most of them were blurry, but the ones with better quality almost made you vomit.

It was taken in a small room. At first, the room was dark, but eventually the image light up. His face was blurred, but you could clearly see what he was doing.

He was fucking your pillow. The one you've been using since you've moved in a better place with better security.

You were confused. And scared.

How could he easily enter your place? Your keys are with you and only the management has access to other duplicates.

"No way..." you whispered as you close the messaging app's window.

One bomb was dropped after another. And you knew something's off.

[NOTICE OF TERMINATION]

Due to multiple reports of call avoidance and drop calls, the management has decided to relieve you from your position as an agent effective immediately.

As we value your well-being, rest assured that you will be receiving your full payment for the next three months along with the other benefits that the company has sworn to provide you.

We sincerely appreciate your efforts for the last three years. We wish you all the best from this day forward.

You were devastated, yet relieved upon reading the letter. You've been wanting to receive this for months. It was the only way out of this place and this industry. You've also managed to save up a lot that you can start fresh somewhere. Far from this place.

Another phone call managed to bypass the automatic system of the place. You took a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"I can't... wait... haah..." the man on the line was clearly doing himself. By the eay he sounds, he's probably close. "We'll move to a big house... haah... hngg... a baby, a babyyy... nhnn... come home..."

Your eyes widened upon hearing your name. Not the screen name you gave them, but your legal full name.

"Let me... hngg... make you a mommy... d'you want that, huh?" You could a wet sloppy noises in the background. "Tiny baby... sucking on your tits... while I make a mess out of you?"

"Ap—"

"No need for... apologies..." he was breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon, okay?

"Heimdall."

He chuckled. "That's me, my princess... took you long enough to say my name."

"How did you get into my house?" you asked while gritting your teeth.

"Patience, my love. We could talk all about it once you're home. Should I get you something to eat? Chicken? Cake? Sandwich? Coffee?"

"I'm done with you."

You immediately pressed the end call button before gathering your things and left. Not even a farewell to your friends.

But there's something you should probably know.

Heidi can't wait to be an aunt and to be your sister-in-law!

[milo4d]

Yandere President! Husband x First Lady! Wife Reader:

I have never seen a yandere as a political figure, be it a mayor, minister, senator, congressman or president of an entire country.

The Yandere President met you before he rose to power, and from there he became madly infatuated with you.

The yandere president came from a very powerful family like you, so your parents and his arranged a marriage despite the modernity of the time.

He received a very comprehensive, albeit and very strict education.

Your education wasn't very different from his; you even knew each other from a young age, as your parents purposely brought you together.

The Yandere President won't take "no" from you for an answer.

A president needs to have charisma and know how to communicate with people, and the Yandere president is no exception. He KNOWS that there are people who believe in him, and whether he is corrupt or not, he will use this chance of manipulation to his advantage to have you.

The Yandere President will always make sure you're comfortable wherever you go together, or whenever you want to stay home. You will have the best medical care and attention, as well as the best food, drink, clothing, treats, accessories and, above all, protection.

And by the way, you will have a great and powerful status that others would envy.

The Yandere President is one of those powerful, paranoid, manipulative, protective and, above all, controlling yanderes.

Whether you're alone or with him, you'll ALWAYS be watched by him wherever you go, even if it's from your bedroom to the living room. The Yandere President will have bodyguards on hand to carefully protect you, him, and his family; he also has servants such as private chefs, maids, chauffeurs, butlers, security guards, etc.

ALL of those servants will tell the yandere president everything you say or do.

The yandere president has a WHOLE team of security cameras and microphones watching you from every possible angle (even if you can't see them), so he ALWAYS knows where you are, who you're with, what you say and what you do. After that, there's no way you can lie to him.

He would even limit your outings to the patio, for fear of snipers, according to him.

Needless to say, you have become the main object of his crazy obsessive love. He would do anything to have you; including killing his love rivals; overprotecting you; isolating you; censoring or controlling all information about you in the media.

The Yandere President knows he has enemies everywhere, both politicians from other parties and other nations and civilians (including rebel groups) who are willing to kidnap you, torture you, extort you, rob you, rape you and even kill you for the simple reason of being related to him.

The yandere president would barely let you see your family.

The Yandere President would love any gift you give him, just because it came from you, his greatest love.

The Yandere President would proudly show you off to everyone, and wouldn't stop reminding the citizens that you are his.

Even though you participate in politics and charity events, the yandere president considers that you should only be his due to his jealousy.

And speaking of which, the yandere president will not stand for you leaving him or talking to another man other than himself, your father or maybe a brother.

Whether in public or private, he will hold your hand, hug you or kiss you, but not to keep up appearances, but to show you the love he feels for you.

Although the yandere president knows that he must protect you from the paparazzi and the media, since he knows that if they have no mercy on him (being the president), much less will they have mercy on you.

I almost forgot: the yandere president would NOT accept a divorce.

He can't bear the idea that you, his beloved, want to leave him.

I would question you intensively to find out the reason for the divorce. Did he not take care of you? Did someone threaten you? Did he not give you enough gifts? Did he not love you or give you enough affection? Did he not give you the attention you wanted? Did someone do something to you and he did not protect you enough?

The Yandere President would talk things over with you and tell you right away that he would NOT let you go anywhere.

The yandere president will even lock you up to make you reconsider.

The Yandere President is not only someone with a lot of money; he also has the best team of private detectives, investigators, spies, hackers, guards and even police officers; so he knows EVERYTHING about you and your family, so if he can't get you to give up on the divorce, he'll have your parents pressure you or threaten to make them disappear.

The Yandere President is capable of ordering the killing of any lover you have.

He is the yandere president; he has absolute control over every part of the country, be it houses, apartments, schools and universities, public administration sites, establishments, all streets and even airports and/or borders.

Now, he would never dare to hurt you directly.

The Yandere President would be capable of making your life difficult if you divorce him. He will do everything to get you back, even sending his men to kidnap you.

He would not accept a divorce even if his election campaigns fail, just think that if he fails, you'll do it together.

The yandere president would be able to become a yandere dictator for you.

He would invite you on the most dazzling trips around the country or around the world.

-The end.

So, what do you think?

[milo4d]

Temper

Male Yandere Oc x Reader

Woooo, second post in a row!! It seems like a lot of people liked my first ever posted one-shot thingy, so I got inspiration to edit something I had written awhile ago for an oc of mine. Adjusted the writing a lil, added some stuff, all of that. Again, I do not support irl 'yandere behaviour', and if you have anyone who acts this way in your life please distance yourself from them 🙏🙏 Hope you enjoy the one-shot! This one's a lil shorter.

WARNINGS!!: Yandere behaviour, arguing/yelling, (physical) abuse, manipulation, mentions of bruises

“Where the hell were you!? Do you know how fucking worried I was? Do you even CARE?”

He exclaimed right as you stepped into the apartment; not even getting to remove your shoes or put your bag and keys aside. He was standing right there from the very second you opened the door; patiently waiting for you to enter and make the mistake of locking the entrance behind you. His arms were crossed firmly, fingers near digging into his own skin. His dark brown, usually relaxed eyes appeared wide open and red. Almost as if he had been crying. You wanted to comment on it; but you knew better than that.

You should probably be more concerned for your big baby of a boyfriend; but this wasn't the first time he had freaked out like this. Tristan had....a bit of a temper problem. He was the kind of person who'd start a fight over the littlest of things; blowing up and sulking like a little kid when something wouldn't go his way. You were aware that this side of him was brought out from his own insecurities, even if he wouldn't admit it. So, most of the time you'd cut him some slack. After all, you loved him. And he loved you.

“I just went to the store across the street. It's not a big deal.” You argued, feeling your forehead already starting to sweat. It wasn't a hot day today- Hell, it was December. Why were you sweating?

“It is a big deal for me. What if something happened to you? And how do I know that you really went to the store!? How do I know you didn't go to your friend's house again, huh? You sure spend a lot of time with him.” He argued back; the anger and jealousy dripping like poison in his shaky voice . He sounded like a ticking time bomb, no matter how much he tried to conceal it. You could only roll your eyes and sigh before letting down the bag of groceries that was the ultimate proof of your 'alibi', aka the proof that you had actually went to the store and he was, as always, overreacting. “Tristan,” you sighed once again, heavily this time, “Look. at. the. floor!”

With that; you pointed towards the already established store bag filled with a variety of snacks. His eyes followed the movement of your hand. He stared at it for a few seconds in silence; and you knew what that silence meant. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to admit he was wrong; or he just didn't want to. So, you took the liberty of speaking up: “You always do this-” “My point stands anyway.” He clicked his tongue, cutting you off and taking a step towards you. When you took a step back out of reflex, he only got closer. “You still went and didn't tell me! I always do this? You always do this!” “Tristan, you're just-” “NO! You don't get to tell me how I feel.” You were cut off yet again. Your eyes nervously glanced around the room, avoiding his gaze; but him? He was staring at you straight in the eyes, not daring to look away for even a split second. Eventually, he had you backed against the door and himself, and when your hand instinctively found its way to the door handle, he was quick to grab your wrist and lean into you.

You shouldn't be scared right now, you tell yourself. This was a daily occurrence at this point. He'd get upset, be a little aggressive and maybe loud, leave you alone for a bit and then come back. This was just the way he was; temperamental and intense. You loved every part of him; just like he loved every part of you. You chose this. It felt like you didn't have the right to complain about it, when you couldn't force yourself to push him away, grab your stuff and leave. What was meant to be a relaxing night watching movies at your boyfriend's place had turned into yet another draining argument; and all that just because he fell asleep mid movie and you decided to go grab some snacks from the dollar store before he'd wake up.

“You hate me, don't you?” He whispered, “You know that I'm a terrible person, and you just want to leave and never look back. You hate being with me! I know it! I know you do!”

“That's not true, Tristan, please-”

“SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!”

His grip on your wrist got even tighter. So tight that it almost felt like it'd snap in half any second now. The worst part was; most of the time he didn't know his own strength. Especially when he was lost in anger. But this was Tristan, he wouldn't hurt you. Even if your own self was currently shouting otherwise in the back of your head. You liked to think that you knew him; and that you could predict what would be coming next. He'd sprout some more nonsense and scoff; and then he'd let go and shut himself in his room until you caved in and ran after him.

But your hand was really, really staring to hurt.

“You may hate me but I fucking love you,” And the grip got slightly tighter. “I NEED you, and I don't know what I have to do to make sure you stay, but I'll do it! Tell me, what do I need to do!?” “Tristan-”

And tighter.

“Do I HAVE to yell!? Is that the only way you'll listen!? Do I have to tie you down to make sure you won't leave me or something!? To be the bad guy?“

And tighter. “Tristan!” and tighter, “IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT!?”

And tighter.

“TRISTAN!”

The sudden yell you let out caused him to stop dead in his tracks; a little shocked as you had never really raised your voice like this before, with this much fear and panic behind it, at least. Even you were a little taken aback by yourself. You never really did well in stressful situations, to be truthful. Your heart would beat fast and your head would start pounding; as if it was warning you that if whatever was going on didn't stop in approximately two minutes, things would go south. You didn't even realise how hard you were trying to pull your hand away from his, but the stinging pain made sure to remind you. He didn't seem to notice. He was far stronger.

Your survival instincts kicked in; and you cracked.

“I'll stay, I never said I wouldn't, I love you. Okay? I'm sorry, I really am-”

Part of you felt ashamed for taking this route, instead of cursing him out and fighting tooth and nail to get him to stop. However, at your state, all you wanted to be was safe; and you were terribly scared that if one of you didn't stop yelling, you'd only add more fuel to the fire.

“You're right, you're so right-” you half sobbed, having half the mind to remember what he was 'right' about, “But please let go, you're hurting me.”

Only when your tears started running down your face and your fake nervous smile began to falter did he realise how sore your wrist had become under his hold. His eyebrows furrowed in worry and he immediately let go; face shifting into an expression of surprise when he saw the redness and bruising forming around it. “B-Baby, I'm sorry-” he stammered, pulling you in an embrace, “I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that, right? I just get so frustrated sometimes and....fuck. Just...just don't ever go anywhere without telling me again, got that? Or better yet, don't go anywhere without me.”

You could only continue crying silently in his chest and nod; hoping that would be enough of an answer for him. You had a feeling that if you dared open your mouth, you wouldn't be able to keep yourself composed and you'd say something you'd later regret. “Good.” He replied, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “Now, I'll go get the first aid kit so I can treat that bruise. Don't move.”

Watching him walk to the bathroom, you realised that the front door keys were no longer in your hand. He'd taken them from you when he embraced you, you figured. Your eyes shifted to the floor; and as you stood there in silence, tears still pouring from your eyes, you couldn't help but wonder.....what was the point of treating a wound if it was inevitably going to be re-opened?

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Thank you reading, hope you enjoyed my writing!! This was a smaller story but I enjoyed re-writing it. It was originally meant to be a character introduction thingy. I've got a lot of ocs, and Tristan is one of them. Idk if I'm ever going to make any other scenarios with him; maybe if people actually wanna see more of him lol. I also have art of him, if y'all ever wanna know what he looks like!! Oh and for clarification, Tristan isn't the same guy from my other one-shot. They're both assholes but not the same person. <3

If anyone has any questions about Tristan, feel free to ask! I love QnAs. (As long as it's not anything inappropriate.)

Word Count: Around 1,440 (I think!!)