#yandere flaky x reader

[qierxing]

Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

—

you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life. 

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort. 

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you. 

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them. 

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie. 

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls. 

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words. 

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you. 

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe. 

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day. 

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first. 

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why. 

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one. 

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son. 

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere. 

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need. 

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining. 

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time. 

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest. 

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face. 

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces. 

Something changes after that night. 

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness. 

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along? 

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles. 

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter. 

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare. 

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you. 

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way. 

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you. 

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner. 

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame. 

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties. 

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive. 

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin. 

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly. 

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

[theyanderespecialist]

Yandere Alastor X Pregnant Reader (Headcanons) Alastor's Baby Mama (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another update! This one is with Alastor being yandere for his pregnant listener, and headcanons he would be like in this situation, anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter here, all my sexy muffins!]

(Disclaimer: Alastor is Not Yandere In Canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE YOU FLAKY BISCUITS! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon, thank you!!!)

-Yandere Headcanons With Alastor X Pregnant Listener from Hazbin Hotel-

.Alastor would not be the best dad, in canon Viv has said he would not be against smacking around his kids (REMEMBER HE WAS IN HIS 30s IN THE 1930s HE IS BEYOND BOOMER) 

.He would of course raise his child that was defenseless and needed him. 

.But if his child who is able to "take care" of himself were to get hurt he would find it a bit funny (like in America funniest home videos) 

.Of course, that is when the kids are kids, but what about his pregnant wife? 

.Alastor is Asexual and in hell and thought he could not have kids. 

.Somehow in one of the times he made love to you his partner you had got pregnant. 

.He was a bit in shock, his microphone putting out radio static and him going "Say what now?" 

.How did it happen, why did it happen? 

.Of course, he is yandere for you and would very much want to take it to the next step with you. 

.So if you are not married to him at this point he will propose as he is doing the right thing and will make an honest woman out out of you. 

.Also with his old-time mind set he would say. "I am not going to let my child be a bastard." (Born out of Wedlock) 

.He is not giving you a choice, you are going to be his wife and bound to him, so yeah, good luck with that, lmao. 

.He becomes even more protective of you, realizing that now that you are pregnant you have a target on your back from all his enemies. 

.So he would steal you away and keep you by his side, If you want to leave the hotel, then you will have to be with him and maybe even husk. 

.If not you will be in the hotel and Husk and Niffty will be keeping a close eye on you. 

.He would even reel Charlie and Vaggie into this and use them to keep you safe and sound as well. 

.You are a prisoner to your husband and he is keeping you in this gilded cage. 

.He would of course give you everything you want and need. Except for your freedom of course. 

.Why would you need freedom when you have him, and your future children? 

.He is 1000 percent the type of man who wants his wife at home, pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. 

.He at first did not want kids but seeing you pregnant has flipped something in him. 

.It mainly has to do with his narcissistic traits, as he will see this child as an extension of himself and their accomplishments will be his as well. 

.So that is nice, but also his yandere side likes seeing you swell with his seed. 

.That pregnant belly, widening hips, and full breasts are signs that you are with HIS Child, that HIS seed has done something to you. 

.This makes him excited in more ways than one because it is a way he can control and manipulate you, and keep you by his side. 

.But it also puts him in la mood because it shows him that you are his and his alone! 

.That you being full with his child is proof you belong to him the radio demon. 

.He would still deal with rivals by killing them and broadcasting their screams across hell. 

.He would be fiercely overprotective possessive and jealous. 

.NO ONE ELSE CAN touch the belly bump, that is HIS Belly bump. 

.He also sleeps with you in his arms a lot now, if you somehow get out of them to get a glass of water and he wakes up without you there. 

.He will appear behind you, snatch you, and teleport through shadows back to the room, place you back in bed where you belong. 

.No midnight snacking for you, unless you ask him first. 

.He is very attentive to all your needs when pregnant and also is a bit more in the mood sex. 

(as asexual can be aroused and horny and have a high libido and CHOOSE To have sex, Asexuality is about Lack of Sexual Attraction NOT The Lack of the Act of Sex itself) 

.So when you get to the want to have sex stage of the pregnancy he is more than willing to satisfy your needs. 

.You have unlocked a beastly side of Alastor good luck. 

.Oh and 1 million percent he would feed you venison and other demon meats while pregnant. 

.He wants to make sure you have a very healthy cannibal diet for you and his spawn. 

.He takes care of you at least, but he does need to be taught more modern ways on raising a child FR FR. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my sexy muffins!] 

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 6

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, needles

There was a knock on the door. The sound was sharp and sudden, shattering the stillness that filled the bedroom.

From her perch in a high-backed chair near the crackling fireplace, Lady Dimitrescu lifted her gaze, her cold, golden eyes narrowing in annoyance behind her dark lashes. Her attention had previously been focused on various documents meticulously arranged on the coffee table, papers filled with finely penned notes and small diagrams.

“Enter.” She commanded.

Sofia stepped in, carefully balancing a silver tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items.

"Set it on the nightstand."

"Yes, my Lady." Sofia responded immediately.

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes followed Sofia's movements, observing every detail with an air of detachment.

As she made her way across the bedroom, Sofia's eyes widened in surprise upon noticing your presence. However, she quickly composed herself, seamlessly slipping back into her professional role as she set the tray on the nightstand beside you.

The tray held an array of delicacies that seemed almost too perfect: golden, freshly baked croissants glistening with a hint of butter, promising warmth and flakiness with each bite. Next to them, a colorful selection of ripe, juicy fruits beckoned, their sweet aroma mingling in the air, and completing the ensemble was a crystal-clear glass of water.

Dread churned in your stomach at the sight of the glass. Your mind involuntarily replayed the memory in excruciating detail: the subtle bitterness that tainted the water, the slow, creeping numbness that spread throughout your body, and through it all, you remembered the smug satisfaction in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes as you succumbed to the sedative.

Your eyes flickered to Sofia, who stood nearby, gazing at you with barely concealed concern. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, betraying her nervousness, and her lips were pressed into a thin, tense line. Her eyes darted between you and Lady Dimitrescu, reflecting a mixture of apprehension and sympathy. Your eyes silently pleaded with Sofia to help you in some way, but you knew she couldn’t do anything. She was as much a prisoner of this situation as you were.

“You may leave.” Lady Dimitrescu said dismissively.

Sofia curtsied and swiftly exited the bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a finality, sealing you in alone with the Lady again.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a low sigh – the sound heavy with a mix of weariness and restrained impatience – as she set the documents aside.

“Alright, darling, it’s time for you to eat.” She murmured.

Rising gracefully from her chair, she moved with a regal poise as she made her way over to you. As she reached your side, she bent over at the hip, her hands sliding under your back to gently but firmly prop you up against the plush pillows. She arranged you as if you were a fragile doll in need of careful handling. Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, Lady Dimitrescu reached out for the croissant resting on the plate and brought it to your lips, her gaze fixed on your face expectantly.

You pressed your lips together and turned your head away, your body instinctively recoiling from the food in front of you. Doubt gnawed at your mind, and you couldn't shake the suspicion that something had been done to the food, if it had been pilled out or tampered with in some way.

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” You said softly, the words almost a whisper amongst the silence that followed.

The air seemed to thicken with each passing moment, the weight of Lady Dimitrescu's gaze intensifying as she observed you. You kept your gaze averted, unable to meet her eyes.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “I understand your reluctance, darling, but you must eat something.”

The flicker of defiance in your eyes did not escape her notice, so she adjusted her posture slightly, leaning in with a subtle yet palpable authority. You curled more into yourself, trying to shrink away from her penetrating gaze, but she remained steadfast, her eyes fixed on you. The air around you began to crackle with tension. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the intensity of her stare growing sharper. The smirk on her face transformed into a thin, dangerous smile, one that instinctively signaled danger.

“That wasn’t a request,” she continued smoothly. “If you won’t eat, I'll force it down your throat.”

The menace in her tone sent a shiver down your spine, the words hanging in the air like a dark promise. Lady Dimitrescu’s smile widened, but it held no warmth. She moved closer, her presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

“You will eat, whether you like it or not.” She whispered, her voice low and threatening.

A rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through you, quickening your pulse. The memory of the bitter, medicinal taste from before flashed through your mind, and the thought of being drugged again, or worse, made your stomach churn. You knew you couldn't trust her, couldn't allow yourself to be at her mercy even more, especially not after what happened last night. At that moment, consequences mattered little; a surge of defiance rose within you, and you straightened up, shoulders squared, meeting her cool gaze with as much courage as you could muster.

“I won't.” You replied, your voice steadier now, though your hands trembled at your sides.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the sound of your own ragged breathing. Then, without warning, she lunged forward, grabbing your jaw with a grip like iron. Her fingers dug into your skin, forcing your head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes blazed with fury, a cold, unyielding anger. Her face was an inch away from yours, her breath hot and wild against your skin, carrying the faint scent of wine and something metallic.

“Open your mouth!” Lady Dimitrescu demanded.

Fear and anger battled inside of you, but you refused to back down. Gathering every ounce of your strength, you pushed against her, trying to break free from her grasp. Your muscles strained as you fought to break loose. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, yet, with each futile struggle, her grip remained firm, a silent reminder of her sheer strength and control.

Lady Dimitrescu growled, a low, menacing sound. Her grip tightened, her thumb and forefinger like steel vices pressing into the pressure points underneath your jaw, sending a sharp pain shooting through your nerves. You felt your mouth being forced open against your will, the muscles straining and twitching against the force she applied.

She then stuffed a piece of the croissant into your mouth and squeezed it close. The fresh, dry texture of the pastry crumbled against your tongue, and you could taste the buttery residue left on it.

“I won’t let go until I see you swallow that piece.” Lady Dimitrescu hissed through her teeth.

You glared up at her through angry tears. They stung your eyes and traced burning paths down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. Yet, she continued to gaze down at you, unmoved by your protest. She arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze, as if daring you to defy her further. The ache around your jaw increased, a persistent throb that radiated through your temples, causing your head to pound with each pulse. You balled up your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms in a futile attempt to redirect the discomfort away from your jaw.

A condescending smile broke across Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, transforming her stern expression into one of mocking amusement. She chuckled darkly, the sound low and cold, “I can assure you, pet,” she said in a patronizing tone, “Neither the food nor the drink is laced with any sort of drug. Now, stop behaving like a little brat and eat.”

The dismissive way she spoke to you, as if you were nothing more than an unruly child, made your blood boil, intensifying the throbbing pain in your jaw and the burning fury in your chest. Unfortunately, you knew in the back of your mind that she would not let up. It was like fighting a losing battle.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to start chewing the pastry. Its soft, buttery taste mingled with the bitter bile rising in your throat. Each bite felt like a battle against the rising nausea, your jaw moving mechanically as she watched you eat, her eyes never leaving your face. Swallowing became a challenge against the hard lump in your throat, each gulp feeling like conceding defeat.

Lady Dimitrescu's smirk deepened, her eyes glinting in pleasure as you did what you were told. She released her grip on your jaw, and the pain instantly lessened, leaving a lingering soreness in its wake.

“Now, was that so hard?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly.

She turned her attention back to the tray. Her long fingers reached for the glass of water beside her, and you clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to react. Golden eyes peered at you once more, narrowing slightly.

“Do not test my patience, pet. I won't be as nice about it as before.” She warned coolly.

With a resigned sigh, you allowed her to bring the glass to your lips. You took a small, cautious sip, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, soothing your parched mouth but doing little to ease the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You waited for a moment, preparing for the worst, but nothing came.

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled at your guarded reaction.

For the remainder of breakfast, she took care of feeding you. Despite your initial hesitation, there were no lingering effects from the meal – no signs of drowsiness or disorientation. The food and drink hadn't been drugged, confirming her earlier statement.

Regardless, you still didn’t trust her.

***

Hours passed in a haze.

You were dimly aware of the passage of time, marked only by the shifting light filtering in through the windows and the occasional distant sounds from the staff echoing throughout the castle. Eventually, the light outside the window faded, replaced by the deepening shadows of night.

You stirred slightly, realizing with a growing sense of urgency that you needed to pee. The sensation grew more insistent with each passing second, pushing through the fog of your grogginess and demanding attention. You shifted, attempting to rise, but found your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The pressure in your bladder grew more uncomfortable, spurring you to try again. As you struggled to sit up, the bedroom spun around you, and a wave of dizziness made you pause, gripping the bed sheets for support. Just then, Lady Dimitrescu appeared by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder as she pushed you back onto the bed gently.

“Ah, ah, dear. You’re not going anywhere.” She tutted.

You gazed up at her and hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I... I need to use the bathroom.” You admitted reluctantly, the words felt like a betrayal of your dignity.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly, as if she found your predicament both entertaining and endearing. “Oh? Well, allow me to assist you then.”

The thought of her assisting you in such a vulnerable state filled you with humiliation. You could almost feel her amusement wrapping around you like a tangible presence, making your skin prickle.

“I can manage.” You protested feebly, though even as you spoke, you weren't sure you believed it yourself.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich and warm despite the slightly teasing undertone. “I’m well aware but I meant I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” She clarified, her smile never fading.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks.

Lady Dimitrescu slid her hands underneath your back and legs with surprising gentleness, effortlessly lifting you up as if you weighed nothing at all. Upon entering the bathroom, she set you down on the cool, tiled floor with care. The sensation of the tiles against your skin grounded you in the present moment, though your legs wobbled with residual weakness from the drugs still circulating through your system. Instinctively, you reached out and gripped the nearby toilet tank for support.

Lady Dimitrescu observed you with a faint, amused smile playing on her lips.

“Will you manage?” She inquired.

You nodded in response, the effort feeling more taxing than it should have.

“I’ll be here if you do require help.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned on her heel, her departure marked by the subtle swish of fabric and the resounding click of the door closing. Left alone in the quiet of the bathroom, you gathered your thoughts.

There was something seriously wrong with whatever drugs the Lady had given you. It seemed to linger stubbornly in your system, refusing to dissipate. Everything in your body felt out of sync and unreliable. Even the slightest movement sent a jolt of discomfort through your nerves, like static electricity sparking beneath your skin. The fact that she refused to tell you why she drugged you frustrated you to no end as well. It was a complex puzzle, one that you were determined to solve despite the obstacles in your path.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pulled down your pajama pants and underwear.

Wait.

Since when were you placed in pajamas?

The realization hits you like a disorienting wave. Nausea roiled in your stomach at the thought of being undressed and exposed before the Lady's eyes. With a shaky breath, you tried to recall how you ended up in these clothes, but the memory remained elusive.

You closed your eyes and opened the toilet lid, lowering yourself onto the seat. Each drop felt like a release, a small but tangible sign that you still retained some control over yourself despite everything else going on with your body. With a sense of relief, you stood up slowly and dragged your sleepwear up, feeling the ache in your muscles protesting the movement.

After flushing the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. Keeping one hand pressed against the tiled wall for support, you moved slowly, each step a deliberate effort to maintain your balance. Leaning heavily on the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image unfamiliar and distant. Lines of exhaustion were etched across your face, and your eyes, once bright, now seemed dulled by fatigue. With a shaky hand, you reached for the faucet, turning it on until the water flowed cold. Droplets splashed into the porcelain basin as you washed your hands methodically. Cupping your hands under the stream, you gathered some water and splashed it over your face, feeling the shock of cold against your skin.

Leaning closer to the mirror, you inspected your reflection once more, noting the way the water droplets clung to your skin like tiny jewels.

The bathroom door swung open just then and you jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Lady Dimitrescu entered, her towering figure eclipsing the doorway.

“Are you done?” She asked impatiently.

“Yes, my Lady.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Dimitrescu stepped over to you, her heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, and picked you up by your waist. She exited the bathroom with you in her arms, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as you spotted Bela standing by the edge of the bed, her expression blank.

As Lady Dimitrescu rounded the bed, your heart froze at what you saw.

Resting on the nightstand was a tray meticulously arranged with a few medical instruments. On it was an empty glass vial, a slender needle, and a thin strip of cloth neatly folded. Your mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat betraying your rising panic.

“What’s going on?” Your voice quivered with anxiety.

For a moment, Lady Dimitrescu remained silent, her gaze holding yours as she laid you back onto the bed. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. She then turned to her eldest daughter who stood silently by, her posture rigid yet composed, awaiting instruction.

“Make the preparations.”

“Yes, mother.” Bela responded obediently.

She stepped around her mother and picked up the strip of cloth off the tray. Panic surged within you as you watched Bela approach, clutching it in her hand.

“Please, tell me what's going on?” You pleaded, your voice wobbling in fear and confusion.

“Not now, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu dismissed your concern with a wave of her hand, her attention fixed on the task at hand.

Bela moved closer to you, her presence unsettling. She wrapped the thin cloth around your bicep, which you now realized was a makeshift tourniquet. You flinched away involuntarily.

“No! Stop! Why are you doing this to me!?” You protested, your voice rising in desperation.

Lady Dimitrecu glared at you, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “Pet,” she warned sharply. “Behave.”

You trembled in place, your body betraying your fear despite your attempts to stand firm. Bela stood nearby, arching an unamused eyebrow at you.

“She’s becoming quite mouthy.” Bela remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her gaze swept over you, assessing and judgmental, making you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Lady Dimitrescu huffed in response, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “She’s been quite feisty since this morning.”

There was a note of amusement in her voice, as if your defiance was a source of mild entertainment for her. However, her smirk quickly faded, replaced by a look of irritation as she regarded you once more.

Bela reached out and grabbed your left arm with a sudden, vice-like grip. Shocked, you instinctively tried to pull away, but before you could even react, Lady Dimitrescu’s massive hand descended upon your chest, a weighty pressure that pinned you firmly in place. Her other hand wrapped around your forearm and kept it still, the strength in her grip unmistakable.

You struggled under her hold, but she didn’t even budge an inch. Your muscles strained and protested, but it was like fighting against a statue. Every attempt to wrench free only resulted in a tighter hold, her strength far surpassing yours. Lady Dimitrescu’s expression remained calm and composed despite your frantic efforts.

“That’s enough, pet,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. “You will lie there and cease your foolish struggling.”

Bela stepped forward once more and wrapped the tourniquet around your bicep. The material bit into your skin, creating a tight pressure that made your veins begin to stand out prominently. She turned around momentarily and retrieved something else off the tray. The clinking of metal on metal sent a jolt of fear through you. When she turned back to face you, her eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

Bela raised the needle, its gleaming point coupled with the glass vial attached to its back, and brought it dangerously close to the delicate crease of your elbow. The nearby candlelight lent a sinister glint to the needle's sharp tip, making it appear even more menacing against the dim surroundings. You tried to pull away, but the Lady’s firm grip on your forearm held you in place.

Your breathing quickened as the needle drew closer. Each breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, your chest heaving erratically. The bedroom seemed to shrink around you, your vision tunneling on the approaching needle.

“No…” You whimpered.

The needle now hovered an inch away from your skin, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Bela’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fleeting moment of contact that made goosebumps rise across your flesh. Her gaze was cold and calculating, cutting through the haze of fear with razor-sharp precision. Slowly, deliberately, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a cruel smile, revealing a flash of ivory teeth. Then, the needle was inserted into your skin, puncturing through one of your veins with a sharp sting. You winced, the pain a sudden and unwelcome shock that made you suck in a breath. Blood immediately started filling the glass vial, drawn by the vacuum within.

Bela's gaze focused on the vial as the dark red stream spiraled and swirled in a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic quality. As the vial neared its capacity, she removed the tourniquet in a swift, smooth motion. The sudden release of pressure caused a faint prickling sensation to travel up your arm, like tiny sparks igniting under your skin.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a satisfied hum. “Such a vibrant hue.”

Her gaze lingered on the sight of your blood with a fascination that bordered on reverence. Each crimson drop that filled the glass vial seemed to captivate her. There must have been enough blood in the vial as Bela swiftly removed the needle from your arm. The sudden movement caused a small stream of blood to trickle from the puncture wound. It ran down the side of your arm, leaving a warm, sticky trail behind. Both women’s eyes shone brighter at the sight of your blood, their pupils dilating in predatory anticipation.

Time seemed to slow as you felt the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze settle upon you like a heavy cloak. Despite the elegance in her posture and the refinement in her features, there was an undeniable danger lurking beneath the surface, a reminder of her primal nature that unnerved you.

She released her grip on your forearm just then, her fingers trailing across your skin in a lingering caress that left a burning sensation in their wake. The touch was both tender and possessive.

“We can’t allow such precious essence to go to waste.” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

She leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the bleeding spot. Her breath, warm and teasing, brushed against your skin, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, holding you captive in a moment that stretched on endlessly.

Then, her tongue darted out, tracing the path of your blood with deliberate slowness. The contrast between the cool, wet touch of her tongue and the warmth of your blood sent a shiver down your spine. Your response caused Lady Dimitrescu to moan; a deep, throaty sound that made your throat go dry. The intensity of the Lady’s reaction was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

Bela's lower lip was caught between her teeth as she observed her mother lap up the blood from your arm, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, as if she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of your blood.

Lady Dimitrescu finally pulled back once the small amount of blood was licked clean off your arm. She ran her tongue over her lips, a gesture both languid and predatory, savoring the lingering taste.

“You taste absolutely delectable, my dear.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her voice low and velvety.

Your eyes widened in both astonishment and apprehension, unsure of how to react to the odd compliment.

Bela took a moment to recover from the unexpected sight, her breath catching slightly as she composed herself. Lady Dimitrescu turned slightly to acknowledge her daughter, her expression softening imperceptibly in a rare display of maternal warmth.

“Thank you, Bela. You may go.”

“Of course, mother.” Bela replied breathlessly.

Her gaze briefly met yours before she quickly turned to leave the bedroom, the delicate glass vial full of your blood held securely in her hand. The atmosphere shifted once more as the heavy door closed behind Bela with a resounding thud. Lady Dimitrescu turned her attention back to you.

“You’ve slept throughout most of the day. I suppose you must be hungry.” She said plainly.

The casualness of her tone contrasted sharply with the unease growing inside of you.

Is she seriously going to act like nothing just happened?

You met her gaze, searching for any hint of an explanation, but found none. The answer to why burned within you, a nagging question demanding a resolution.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, “Why did you have my blood taken?”

The seconds stretched into an uncomfortable silence as Lady Dimitrescu regarded you with an unreadable look. Her eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, now seemed veiled.

“I have my reasons,” she finally replied. “I’d prefer to have you not know until you’re at a point in which I believe you are ready.”

Her response offered no solace, only adding to the growing sense of dread that coiled within you.

“Ready for what?” You pressed, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

“Enough questions. It’s time for you to have dinner.” Lady Dimitrescu’s response was curt, dismissive even.

The abrupt change in topic and tone left you reeling. You clenched your teeth, fighting the urge to scream and swear at her. Time was slipping away, each second ticking by like a countdown to an unknown fate. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you resigned yourself to the current moment.

For now, you’ll comply with her demand while figuring out your next move.

[planet-dusk]

Ghost!pirate!hongjoong who follows you around after you visited the museum his ship wreck ruins were being displayed at. He just follows you around and helps you when you need to, gets inside your dreams and eats you out till you have to get up but sometimes tells you stories about his crew and old times, who also really dislikes your bff who he sees as someone he should get rid off bc he just looks at you in a irritating way

He is just trying to protect you, dont try to stop him, you wont be able to anyways

🏷️ kim hongjoong x fem!reader. cw ; yandere!hongjoong, ghost!hongjoong, dub/noncon, somnophilia, oral (f), fingering, edging, possessive and other toxic yandere behavior ( 470 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

you're not sure where the pirate who keeps showing up in your dreams came from, but on some days you swear he almost feels real. you've got used to his presence (sometimes even looking forward to it) but even after all those months there's something about his lazy, calculating smile that makes your blood run cold.

at night you wake with his dark head of hair between your legs, tongue already parting your folds and your slick dripping down his chin. he never does anything more than that: eats you out until your legs are shaking, then disappears into thin air, leaving you aching and empty. no matter how much you beg his shining eyes never change, never give in.

you like the tales about his old crew (where are they now? he doesn't tell and you don't dare ask), and the way his face lights up when he talks about his members almost makes him look human. 8 makes one team. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. stories from another time, so vivid it's as if you're there with them. it's easy to get lost in him. you're going out less often these days, heading home after work as soon as you can because you know he might be waiting for you. his visits aren't limited to the nights any more, even though he's unreliable and flaky; sometimes he doesn't show up for days at a time, sometimes he stays with you for hours.

it only makes you more eager to stay home and wait for him. what if you go out and miss him? he might get angry again, it wouldn't be the first time, waking you with his fingers deep inside your cunt for seven nights straight — and removing them right before you could reach your peak. every time you fell asleep he'd wake you up, turning you into a begging mess. the dark circles under your eyes grew with each passing night. there was no point in fighting him; he'd pinned your hands above your head when you'd tried to relieve yourself, surprising strength in such a lithe body.

and on the seventh night, when he was finally satisfied with your sobs, he'd kissed you for the first time and told you the salt on your cheeks reminded him of the sea, his first love. he'd never thought he'd find someone as pretty as her until fate had brought you together.

"you're mine, and mine alone. don't you ever forget it." he'd reinforced his words by finally, finally letting the waves of sweet bliss overtake you.

slowly, hongjoong draws you away from your coworkers. your friends. your family. even your best friend. the only thing on your mind is him, the only one you need in life: your captain.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[hp-hcs]

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy x he/him

Yanderes au

He’s a pureblood who was forced to be a death eater, like them. And they get this overwhelming possessive urge to protect him from anyone and anything.

When he’s in pain they can’t - seriously can’t even think of leaving him alone. They’re physically hurt seeing him in pain. If he’s struggling they are going to help, whether he asks for it or not. If someone hurts him? Hell even if Voldemort himself hurts him? Even he wouldn’t survive their wrath.

They see themselves in him. But also not, because they wouldn’t care for themselves the way they care for him. They wouldn’t isolate themselves as they do with him. They don’t love themselves. Like how they are sickenly obsessed with him.

They don’t really let him do anything for himself because of their obsession. What if his bag clip breaks and cuts his hand? Yeah no. They’ll get Goyle to carry it for you. What? He’s feeling hungry? Don’t even think about getting up. They’ll order a house elf to make the best there is. He’s being sent on a death eater mission? Oh they think not. Never again. Never again.

i’ll be honest, i have like five very similar requests in my inbox already, so i kind of just skimmed this one until those last four lines hit me like a fucking TRUCK

! five part series; each part has six chapters ! (ambitious, i’m aware)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

『 Never Again 』

Yandere! Good! Draco Malfoy x Male! Reader x Yandere! Good! Mattheo Riddle

【 Part One — The Lesser of Two Evils (We Were Children) 】

Chapter One — Nobodies (Who Are You? Are You Nobody Too?)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

❝ I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they’d advertise - you know! How dreary - to be - Somebody! How public - like a Frog - To tell one’s name - the livelong June - To an admiring Bog! ❞ — “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”, Emily Dickinson

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy had majorly fucked up five times in their lives.

The first was, of course, choosing to take the Dark Mark and swear allegiance to the Dark Lord—deadly ultimatum or not.

(Choosing is a strong word, though. They didn’t choose. They were told.)

They were fourteen.

~~~

An honor, they were told it was.

A once in a lifetime opportunity, their mothers crooned while stroking their hair. How proud you’ll make your father.

Proud, they repeated in their minds. I’ll make everyone proud.

They kept repeating the sentiment, even as their flesh sizzled and crackled, darkened and flaky around the edges of the new and never-healing burn.

Even as they were sharply dismissed from the Death Eaters’ meeting without so much as a glance from their fathers.

Even as the boys went back to their respective rooms in Malfoy Manor—where Lord Voldemort had decided to set up shop with his army of loyal sycophants—and bandaged up their arms.

Even as they both cried themselves to sleep—praying for Someone to rescue them from this self-inflicted hell—they repeated the sentiment, over and over.

They’ll tell me they’re proud of me. They will.

But Nobody did.

~~~

“Good. Now kill him,” Lord Voldemort hissed in his son’s ear, his hand holding the elbow of Mattheo’s wand arm steady. “Just like we practiced.”

Mattheo licked his chapped lips, steeling himself as he eyed the pleading Muggle man before him.

“Sir- b-boy, please! I- I’ve done n-nothing-”

“Avada Kedavra.”

The Muggle dropped like a rock, his pleas sharply cut off as he fell backwards. His skull made a sickening crack! as it hit the fine marble flooring of the Malfoy manor.

A slow and twisted grin of glee crossed Lord Voldemort’s face. “A-ha! Very good, Mattheo. Well done. Brilliant form, perfect diction…”

(The Dark Lord was not a stupid man. He knew how much his validation affected his son, and he knowingly used that to his advantage.)

“Nephew, come here. Your turn.”

Draco gulped and stepped forward as Mattheo returned to the edge of the Malfoy family’s ballroom-turned-execution-theater. The two cousins traded a glance as they passed one another, both sharing the same thought.

They’d become child soldiers, plain and simple.

Death Eaters.

A pair of Nobodies, doomed to be Somebodies.

Their arms itched.

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

[l1tw1ck]

Peter's Favorite

bottom!ftm!yandere Peter Parker x sub!top!masc Reader

peter can be read as whatever peter you want

↳ W.C: 880

↳ [Event Request] | [No AFAB Language Ver]

CW: Non-Con, Aphrodisiacs, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Creampie

You've been friends with Peter for a while, and he considers you his closest one. He rarely flakes on you, even despite what his old friends and ex had told you about him being flaky.

He usually shows up to every plan you make with him and even stays longer than planned. You do most of the talking and he always listens diligently with a soft blush on his face that you never seem to notice.

You also don't find it weird that all those close to you have disappeared one by one. It's not a surprise when you live in a city that has frequent attacks, you never caught on to the similarities. You're just grateful that Peter's always there to help you grieve.

You perk up to the smell of brownies, smiling when Peter offers you one. You take a bite and immediately fall in love with the taste. "This is amazing, Pete, thank you!" You quickly eat the rest of it, unaware of the look Peter's giving you.

For a while, everything is normal, your study session is going well. Up until you get to a particularly hard science question and you turn to Peter for help. You feel your heart race and a familiar feeling in your pants. "Pete.."

"Yeah?" He stares at your boner.

"I feel...weird.."

Peter pulls his pants off, causing you to stare at his lower half and drool over it. "Do you want help?" He asks, taking his underwear off.

You nod rapidly.

"Eat me out first.." He turns his body around and spreads his legs. You immediately push your chair back and kneel down, immediately going in to eat his wet pussy. Peter lets out a shaky gasp as you lick his little cock, tongue switching from there to his entrance. You want to taste all of him at the same time.

Peter rolls his head back, letting out soft moans as you finally find your place on his t-dick, sucking on it desperately. "Yes— keep going-"

You slip two fingers inside him, thrusting in and out of him vigorously.

He cries out in pleasure. "'M gonna c- come~!" He exclaims, squeezing your fingers as he squirts.

You pull your fingers out and lap at his sensitive cunt, drinking up his fluids.

Peter has to force you away from him since you're practically trying to devour him. "Bri- bring me to the bed." He orders, out of breath. You immediately do as he asks. You take your pants off, revealing your thick hard-on to Peter. He nods, allowing you to stuff yourself inside his warmth.

You immediate start fucking him, going at a rough and aggressive pace. You bring him into an equally rough and aggressive kiss, kissing him like you're trying to devour him. Peter moans into your mouth, barely able to handle your roughness.

You eventually pull away from the kiss, opting to litter his neck with hickeys and bites. Your hand reaches down to his little cock, stroking it gently.

"Yes~ yes~!" Peter moans out in pleasure. "Fuck–"

You whisper, "Mine" over and over, holding him tight like he might slip away.

"Wa- wanna be yours-" You whimper. Peter pretty much melts in your hold. He didn't expect it to work this well. "Please-"

"Y- you're mi- mine, [Name]~" Peter moans, coming a second time. You bury your head in his neck and come soon after. Peter expects you to stop, to take a break, but you don't. You keep going, fucking him harder.

“I love you-” You say, ramming into him at a harsh but pleasurable pace. “Peter–” You moan as he tightens around you.

He grins with bright red blush on his cheeks. “Ah~! I love you too~!” He throws his head back, crying out in pure pleasure. He moans your name repeatedly like it's going out of style.

“You feel so good-” You move down from his neck to his scarred chest, tongue flicking his nipple as you fuck him at a slightly slower pace. You suck on his nipple, using your hand to toy with the other. Peter wraps his arms around you, moaning and wordlessly urging you to keep going.

“Fuck~” Peter already feels himself approaching his climax again. “Mo- more~” He rolls his eyes back, coming hard on your cock.

You pull away from his chest, hand still playing with his nipple, and bring him into a desperate kiss. Peter happily embraces it, letting you kiss him until you're both gasping for air.

You gently push him down onto his back and move your hand down to his stomach, watching your cock bulge through his stomach. Just from that you can already feel you coming close to your release.

Peter places his hand over yours, holding you tight. It’s romantic, in a fucked up way. Since you're drugged and all.

Your thrusts come to a halt as you dump your second load into his pussy.

You still weren't done, you fucked him for hours on end, until he turned into an overstimulated mess and the aphrodisiac finally wore off. You no longer have any stamina but you retained the other effects. Meaning, you’re in love with him to a concerning degree. Not as concerning as Peter’s love, but you're close.

[happy-tree-friends-imagines]

Yandere! Flaky X Reader Headcanons

(Image found on Imgur posted by SliceOfHeaven)

Hey @elizabeth-yandere thank for the ask! I know it took me awhile to get to it but I hope you enjoy it all the same~ Comments and feedback are always appreciated!!

I tried to keep this as a gender neutral reader! So I used they/them pronouns :)

Warnings: Yandere, toxic relationship, stalking, mentions of blood

...

- Flaky is shy... everyone knows this

- But you were drawn to her from the start

- She had her head down, eyes avoiding absolutely everyone in the crowded grocery store aisle 

- Her red white-flaked hair obscuring her face as she tried not to cry

- She had tried for the last five minutes to reach up onto the top shelf for the last ingredient she needed for dinner... only to be too short to reach, her fingers just barely brushing the bottom of the can

- It was stupid... she thought, to cry over something so little

- But she couldn't help it, she was overwhelmed and it was so crowded and it felt like the walls were closing in and her heart was beating out of her chest and people were starting to look in her direction and she could hear them whisper and whisper and talk and talk and it was too much... it was always too much

- And she couldn’t even get out a simple “Could you help me with this please?” without feeling like she was going to throw up all over the floor

- She was just about to drop her basket on the floor and bolt out of there when you showed up

-  “Almost... aha! Got it!” With a little effort, you snatched up the very can she needed and held it over to her with a bright smile “Looked like you needed this!”

- “T-t-thank you!” Flaky shook as she accepted the can into her basket from your hand

- She expected you to turn and walk away after that, but you accompanied her to the front of the store, making polite conversation while she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater

- “So you should totally come over sometime!” You invited her over to your house, so happy to have made a new friend

- Flaky was stunned “You want to hang out with m-me?”

- You laughed, but it clearly wasn’t mean “Of course!”

- Flaky’s crimson eyes widened, she felt like she had just been handed the greatest gift in the entire world, and she nodded

- You two exchanged numbers and then you were on your way

- Unaware of the love-stricken red-head that cautiously followed you home

- Your friendship started out as normal as could be... as far as you knew

- But what you didn't know was that Flaky liked to follow you... watch your every move

- She felt if she let you out of her sight even once, you would disappear without a trace and she would be left alone and heartbroken and she couldn’t have that

- She’d show up at your house randomly

- “Oh hey Flaky! It’s... pretty late... did you want to sleep over?” you asked the small girl as she stood on your porch at just about midnight

- “U-um sure!” her smile was small and lopsided and adorable, so of course you let her in

- You didn’t mind that she slept over, she was your friend after all

- And then things started to go missing from your house

- Small things

- Things you didn't even know you’d been missing until suddenly there was a random space on your counter or your desk or a shelf that you swore there had once been a nail file... a pen... a small knickknack... a half-finished bag of gummy worms... 

- It wasn't so much concerning to you... rather, it was unsettling 

- But you brushed it off as simply misplacement or forgetting and moved on

- Flaky’s visits were more frequent when you had guests over

- A rapid pattern of knocking interrupted you from setting the tea set on the coffee table in front of your new friend Flippy

- “One second, I’ll be right back!” You promised him

- He was such a nice neighbor and you felt guilty of how long it took you to finally meet him (being so preoccupied with Flaky’s visits) so you invited him over for tea the one afternoon when Flaky texted you that she was staying home that day

- Or that’s what you thought... when you opened the door and familiar red eyes met yours

- “Flaky? I didn't expect to see you today, everything okay?”

- “I’m f-fine. Do you mind if I come in? I m-missed you!”

- You smiled weakly... how could you turn away your (basically only) friend now? 

- You invited her in for tea as well, letting her know that you had a guest over

- You lead her to the living room where Flippy sat patiently with his hands in his lap and a nervous smile on his face

- “Hello Flaky, didn't know you’d be joining us too” he tried his best to keep his voice quiet and kind but despite his efforts, his rumbling voice sent Flaky shaking where she stood

- “F-Flippy? W-what are you doing h-here?” Flaky hugged herself as her eyes darted around the room nervously

- “Oh, I didn’t know you knew each other!” You smiled, happy to know that your new friend was familiar with the red-head girl

- You went to take a seat besides Flippy when Flaky grabbed your arm with a force much greater than should be possible from such a small girl

- You laughed and asked her what the matter was, her eyes never leaving the green-haired man

- “Can you let me go please? That’s starting to hurt,” you tried prying the girl’s hand from your arm only for you to be pulled down to her height so she could talk into your ear

- “Y-you don't know?!” Her eyes were wide and she was shaking so bad you thought she might faint

- “He’s crazy! H-he killed half the town once before. He can’t control his anger... he’ll lose control and he’ll kill you too!” she began with a whisper that very quickly made it’s way into a yell that was half a sob

- “What?” You eyed Flippy who had tears in his eyes as he slowly shook his head

- “Flaky... I don't know what you’re talking about, I would never-”

- “Y-YES YOU DO! I’VE SEEN IT! YOU’VE TRIED TO KILL ME BEFORE! I WON’T LET YOU HURT THEM TOO!!”

- You’ve never heard Flaky raise her voice and it honestly shocked you

- The red-head girl stood in front of you and pointed at Flippy accusingly “If you think I’m going to let you hurt my f-friend then you’re wrong!”

- “Flaky, I-” you tried to intervene but the girl already had a heavy candlestick in her hands

- “I am SICK and TIRED of you! Thinking you an come in here and steal them away from me?!”

- Flippy stood slowly, his hands up in a non-threatening manner, tears threatening to spill over “I’ll just leave now... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable Flaky, please just-”

- Flaky pulled you further behind her “DON’T MOVE! DON’T YOU DARE COME NEAR THEM!”

- She swung the candlestick as she yelled, you could hear the whoosh it made as it cut through the air

- Flaky had moved you both to stand in the way of the exit

- “We have to get out of the way if you want him to leave-”

- “QUIET!” Without thinking, Flaky swung the candlestick at you, meeting your head with a sickening CRACK 

- The room went silent as you raised a hand to the side of your head

- There was something warm... something cold... something warm and cold all at the same times running down your face

- You pulled your hand away and held it in front of your eyes... blood

- You let out a cry that you couldn't hear, everything was blurry and red and it HURT

- “Oh my god!” Flippy rushed to your side, pressing a throw blanket to the wound as you screamed

- But as soon as he made contact with you, Flaky struck again

- The candlestick snapped in half as it slammed into Flippy’s head and his right eye popped from it’s socket 

- You screamed and Flaky embraced your form as you fell to the floor in a last minute attempt to grab Flippy as he fell backwards

- Your fingers brushed his front but Flaky was quick to grab you into her arms

- “Don’t cry! No!” she hushed you, one hand keeping you upright, the other pushing your face into her chest

- You couldn’t stop the sobs that tore through you

- “I-I didn't mean to hurt you, please don't be mad at me! P-please!” Flaky’s hold was suffocating 

- You weakly fought against her, attempting to turn your head away from her, throwing your arms this way and that

- But you were losing too much blood and you were too weak

- “Flippy did this! He always does this! I knew he would hurt you! He always hurts everyone and everything!” 

- “N.. no.. no-” you sobbed, chest heaving

- “I’ll make you b-better,” Flaky whispered, pressing kisses to your bloodied head “All you have to do is stay with me f-forever and ever. A-and we’ll get rid of him and run away and live h-happily ever after.”

- Flaky was laughing now “We’ll be happy and free and you’ll be mine... only mine.. forever!”

- The blood poured endlessly down your face, getting in your eyes and blinding you

- And suddenly you were tired... so tired

- You were too tired to wipe your eyes

- Too tired to scream or yell anymore

- Too tired to reach for the phone on the coffee table in front of you

- Too tired to fight against the small girl as she took you by the shoulders and dragged your limp body out the door

- “You’ll be m-mine... forever and ever... and ever... and ever.. and ever-”

[eclecticmiasma]

Human Art (Yandere!Rohan x Reader)

🖤 For the eternally lovely @vani-ya​ 💚

When strange things start happening around your apartment, your kind friend Rohan offers you a place to stay. 

NSFW

[Warnings: somnophilia, rape, mind control, abuse, dead dove: do not eat] 

It started out innocuous enough. Doors ajar that you could have sworn you closed. Missing laundry. Strange bruises. The fact that Morioh had a serial killer running around wasn’t exactly a secret, so you just felt like you were being overly paranoid when little things around your apartment began to go awry. You weren’t always the most mindful person, and a few little incidents did not a serial killer make.

That is, until the open doors had broken locks. Until you found strange stains on your underwear. Until the bruises that marred your hips and thighs began to look like fingerprints.

“Maybe it’s a ghost!” Okuyasu jested, waggling his eyebrows. Rohan shot him a look of deep disgust. Okuyasu’s face fell as he remembered the existence of Reimi, “Sorry…”  

“Well, you’re more than welcome to crash at my place,” Josuke interjected, “Mom’s probably dying to have another woman around-” At this, Rohan let out a snort of laughter.

“Stay at your place? And sleep where exactly?” Josuke chewed the inside of his lip.

“I…I mean I could sleep on the couch…” The mangaka rolled his eyes and set down his coffee with a frustrated clink.

“Am I always the only one with any real solutions?” He turned to you and looked you sternly in the eyes, “[Y/n], I’m sure you’ve noticed that my house is massive. As long as you don’t interrupt my work, the best thing to do is to stay with me for a while,” The gang blinked at Rohan, shocked at his uncharacteristic generosity. Okuyasu got ready to grill him on the fact that he refused to let him and his father stay at his mansion despite the fact that they continued to live in an abandoned shack, but Josuke elbowed him before he could start.

You were hesitant to accept. While it was a generous offer, you never really spoke to Rohan beyond gathering cursory information about the town’s other stand users. He sensed your unease and softened his gaze.

“It’ll be…an adventure. Maybe you could even help me model certain character poses? There is a severe lack of women in my work.”

In the end, you agreed. All of your things were moved to Rohan’s with the help of your friends, and you found yourself much more at ease with someone else in the house. Even if your rooms were fairly far apart, you felt much less likely to be murdered while not living alone. Whether or not that was misguided, you began to enjoy your temporary home.

But, slowly, incidents began to occur at Rohan’s home too. Much like before, they started out small. Bits of hair in your bed that weren’t yours. More marks on your body, covering the ones that had faded. One morning, you woke up with something dry and flaky across your chest and neck. You started to think that Okuyasu was right, maybe you did have some kind of ghost following you around.

When you voiced your concerns to Rohan, he waved them away. The two of you did laundry at the same time, so of course it was probably his hair caught in your blankets. Your aloof nature meant that you constantly bumped into things, he saw it himself. As for the mystery substance on your chest, maybe you needed to buy some new body lotion that wouldn’t clump up in your sleep. He recommended a local brand. Everything you came at him with, he had an answer for. Rohan’s level-headed nature put you at ease, and you were thankful for him.

But then everything fell apart. You don’t know what possessed you, perhaps it was a familiarity with the mangaka’s drawing room after having modeled for his various projects several times, but you found yourself perusing his massive catalogue of books. He had a novel on nearly every subject. As he told you many times, he found it of utmost importance to take inspiration from the real world.

When none of his library piqued your interest, you walked away from his bookshelf and padded over to his desk. Though you were never allowed to look at his unfinished work, curiosity got the better of you. Rohan was much too controlling when it came to his work, you felt. A little peak wouldn’t do anyone any harm.

You picked up a sketchbook and rifled through it, amazed at how detailed his drawings were. Birds, insects around the home, coffee plates, sandwiches, human hands, anything and everything he saw was sketched out to the most minute details. He was absurdly talented. You felt a bit of pride in being his friend.

At the back of the sketchbook were nude drawings. You blushed as your eyes raked over the lewd poses. Some genitalia was drawn, both male and female. The model’s body was contorted in all different poses, many sexual in nature. As you flipped the page, you were shocked to see actual sexual acts being performed. You had never heard of models that were willing to do this kind of thing. Although, Rohan had a lot of money and none of the sketches showed their faces. Except for one.

The sketchbook tumbled to the floor.

The face was yours.

Not once had he asked you to pose nude for him, but there you were. Your full body was on display. Leaned back over the edge of a sofa so that your hair dragged along the floor. One of your hands grasped your breast seductively while the other delved into your core. It was unmistakably you, down to the birthmark on your abdomen. You knew Rohan only drew from what was directly in front of him, so how in the world-

Rohan cleared his throat behind you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. A devious look danced behind his eyes. He set down his satchel unceremoniously and closed the study door.

“I suppose this was bound to happen at some point,” Your heart raced as the lock clicked in place. Rohan slid off his gloves and threw them on the leather chair next to his satchel. Not once did he take his emerald eyes off of your now trembling form.

“I don’t understand,” You managed to say, though your voice was weak and nearly unintelligible.

“You wouldn’t,” Rohan chuckled darkly, “You’re much too stupid to put two and two together. Now, kneel.”

To your shock, your knees immediately hit the wooden floor.

“Heaven’s Door,” Rohan muttered, taking your face in his palms. Your whole body tensed and something like a book opened in your left cheek, “You know, this charade has been quite fun. I probably could have been happy to keep you as my perfect little pet forever. But, seeing you like this, seeing the genuine fear in your eyes, I’m starting to realize that your inability to remember our time together has honestly been quite boring,” He whipped out a pencil from his pocket and erased something from your pages.

All at once, everything came flooding back. The nights in your apartment where something, someone held you down while you sobbed, marking your body as their own. The way they flaunted your stolen underwear as they huffed it while fucking your breasts. Broken locks strewn to the floor as you screamed.

And at Rohan’s house, memories of him choking you until you complied with his demands, his thick cock stretching your throat. The unhinged glee in his eyes as he came all over your neck and chest. Images of your naked, trembling body on display as he drew you any way he wanted, even while being used by him.

Paralyzed by Rohan’s stand, all you could do was remember and weep.

“There we go,” He said, closing your pages and stepping back, admiring his work, “I even took out the clause that says you have to obey any orders I give,” A dark grin danced across his features, “Now, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You couldn’t. Not after the visions that played in your mind. Everything you had feared for months stood directly in front of you, taunting you. Pain erupted on the side of your head as Rohan twisted your hair around his fist and pulled you way from the side of the desk. He used that momentum to throw you to the floor and, immediately, he was on you, tearing off your clothes with practiced precision. Though you kicked and screamed, Rohan was deceptively strong. You cried out as he wrenched your arm painfully behind your back.

“Keep fighting me, and I’ll pop your arm out of its socket,” Despite his warning you continued to struggle, wriggling underneath him for any kind of opportunity to get the upper hand. He let out an exasperated sigh and tugged hard. You cried out as burning agony shot down your arm and the limb fell to your side with a thud, “You really think one would learn after the first twenty or so times. How did you even survive on your own for this long?”

With the rest of your clothing off, he moved his weight from you and ordered you to get back on your knees. Trembling, you acceded, forcing yourself up with your working arm to face him. You watched as he retrieved his sketchbook from the floor. He flipped through the pages with annoyance.

“Not many left. Ah, here’s a spot. Now…what do I need from you…” Rohan’s brow furrowed as he tapped his chin with a fountain pen and looked at your sobbing face. His lip curled in disgust, “Let’s put that mouth to use. Open up,” Your eyes met his and you silently pleaded for mercy. Images of him forcing his way past your lips flashed before you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to comply.

“I shouldn’t have to repeat myself,” Fury bubbled beneath Rohan’s calculated stare. After you continued to hesitate, he cupped his hand and put it to his ear, “What’s that? You’re begging me to paralyze you with my stand?” You shook your head furiously and opened your mouth for him, ashamed, “Good girl.”

Rohan walked over to you and unzipped his baggy trousers. With pen in hand, he fished out his half-hard member and let it hit your tongue. Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. His thumb grazed your cheek, and for a moment you thought he might even take pity on you. He only smirked.

“Mess up my drawing, and I’ll throat-fuck you until you have to use a feeding tube,” Fear coursed through you as he started to draw, lightly thrusting his length along your tongue to allow it to fully harden. You barely breathed.

Minutes passed. Ten. Twenty. Rohan sketched the way his cock sat between your lips as if he were sketching a detailed flower. Nothing in his facial expressions betrayed the act in which he was participating. But he was certainly aroused. You fought back the urge to gag when salty pre-cum hit your tongue.

When he slapped the sketchbook closed, you jumped. The sick sense of security you felt while he was drawing melted, and terrified anticipation took its place.

“Get on all fours,” Reluctantly, you did as he said. He came up behind you and slid his hands along your inner thighs, “Spread your legs…Further,” Your face heated up with shame and rage as you felt him grasp the soft flesh of your behind. He toyed with it, massaging it and spreading it apart to examine your innermost parts.

“Wait!” You cried out as something prodded at your entrance. You lurched forward to escape him, but tumbled onto your dislocated shoulder. Rohan quickly caught your hips and dragged you back across the floor. A sharp slap resounded in the room as he reared back and spanked you as hard as he could, “Please, Rohan-”

“Please, Rohan,” He mocked, smacking you again, “Do you know how long I’ve kept myself from burying my cock inside of you?” Burning pain filled you as he thrust himself forward, plunging inside of you with his thick length. Your nails dug into the floor as you sobbed, begging him to stop.

His pace was instantly vicious, dizzying. It was painful, so incredibly painful, but your cries fell on deaf ears. He even chuckled as you writhed beneath him, trying desperately to get away. With a swift motion he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him so that your back stuck to his chest. His clammy hands enthusiastically grasped at your bouncing breasts.

“Don’t you wonder why…” He growled in your ear, rolling his hips against you, “…after all the ways I’ve taken you, why not here?” His hand moved from your chest to rub painful circles into your clit. His other hand slid up to your neck and gripped it so tightly that you could barely respond, “I don’t mean to sound sentimental, but I wanted you to remember it. A whore like you should be so lucky to be fucked by Rohan Kishibe.”

Finally, his thrusts slowed and he shifted the angle of your body. Though it was still painful, the new position allowed his dick to plant a cloying feeling deep within your core. Every time he penetrated you, it gave you pause. Combined with the more deliberate ministrations of his fingers on your clit, the realization dawned on you that you were dangerously close to orgasm. Your heart raced at the thought. You wanted to scream, but Rohan’s grip on your neck kept you near silent.

“Cum for me you little slut. I know exactly where your buttons are, so don’t try to fight it,” The world around you spun as lack of oxygen finally took its toll, and everything you had been fighting so hard to stop fell by the wayside. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, little pinpricks of light dancing in your vision as your body trembled. Rohan cackled psychotically and let you drop to the floor.

While you came down from your high, Rohan fucked you harder. Your knees rubbed the floor painfully as he took you, slamming his cock deep within you again and again and again. You had no energy to hold yourself up, especially with just one arm, and you let him have his way with you as you silently cried.

His own orgasm wasn’t far behind. To your absolute shock he pulled out of you, digging the nails of his left hand into your thigh as his right milked out semen all over the skin of your back.

As soon as he released every drop of cum, there was shuffling behind you. You dared to glance down to see that he immediately went to grab his sketchpad to draw your freshly marked body and abused hole. You didn’t even need to be told to stay still.

When he was finished, he flipped you over. You yelped in shock as he grabbed your foot and held it up to where he could see the bottom of it. Pain shot through you as he took his fountain pen and sliced into the sole of your foot, cutting a thin line.

“There,” he panted, dropping your leg, “You didn’t really think that was our first time, did you?” He cast a smug smile your direction as your face dropped, “That’s it, that’s the face! Hold still,” He picked up the book beside him and quickly outlined your pained expression. He grinned as his pen flew across the paper, absolutely unhinged. “Anyway, of course you believed me. The only person more gullible than you is that buffoon Josuke.”

“But…I saw everything…” Rohan let out a genuine cackle.

“You remember what I let you remember, you stupid bitch. Why would I pass up the chance to break you anew every single day? To let you think that I still had one more line left to cross? The raw emotion…that’s truly art,” You thought you had run your tears dry, but more just kept coming. A choked sob left your lips as you dared to look at the bottom of your foot. It was covered in scars, some fresher than others. There must have been hundreds. Little tick marks that denoted how Rohan had used you time and time and time again.

Before you could process everything that happened, before you could curl up into yourself and howl at the indignity, Heaven’s Door had you between its grubby little hands. Rohan himself sauntered over and scribbled something on your cheek.

“Now, why don’t you go wash your filthy little hole and go to bed?” Your mind went blank as the world around you fell away. Rohan called out to you as you mindlessly lifted yourself up to walk to the bathroom as he bid you.

“Sweet dreams, [Y/n].” *all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[ddarker-dreams]

ladybug. yandere!giorno x reader

tw: emotional manipulation, humiliation

giorno is patient with you, but everything has limits. 

click here to check out my commissions! 

Sunlight has always felt nice on your skin.

Even when it’s obscured by glass windows, it brings a sense of comfort that’s unmatched by anything else. Compliment it by drinking any assortment of hot drinks, such as cappuccinos or espressos, and it makes your world feel whole. For hours at a time you could bask in it, eyes fluttering shut and soaking in blissful warmth. 

The breakfast room you sit in most mornings is surrounded by circle topped windows, deliberately placed on the east wing of Giorno’s villa to capture the morning sun. In the middle of the room sits a petite glass table, large enough to be accompanied by four birch wood seats. 

Every morning you come here, an assortment of pastries and berries are laid out to your liking. A rotating set of china accompanies them, differing in color depending on the seasons. As it’s currently winter, a pearly white set with sapphire designs are in use. With spring budding around the season, you’ll soon be met with your favorite set; one with sakura designs from Japan. 

All of these small details are pressed into your mind. Having sat in this room for breakfast too many times to count, you’ve come to know everything about it. From the seasonal fine china, to which chair allows the sun to kiss your skin the longest, to how the windows are kept under lock and key. 

You’ve tried that method already. 

Funny thing, that is. How an oceanic view gives the illusion of freedom, when looked at through monumental windows. By how the butler’s breath hitches when you run your fingers over the glass longingly, you can only imagine the strict regulations Giorno holds them to. It’s not like it’ll crumble underneath your delicate touch, even if you silently wish it would. 

The sight of waves crashing causes a sigh to leave your lips, knowing that you’ll have to be content to watch it from here for the time being. In your myriad of thoughts, you fail to notice a small ladybug settling itself onto your outstretched hand. Looking at it with a frown, you watch as it crawls from the back of your hand to your fingertips. 

It’s why you don’t flinch when soft footsteps approach you from behind, already knowing the omen the ladybug brought with it. Retracting your hand away from the window, you feel no desire to look back when you already know who’s there.

“I take it you like the view?” Even early in the morning, Giorno’s voice is composed and smooth. It demands to be listened to and respected, even if you have to admit that begrudgingly. He cherry picks his words with intention, a facade of domesticity mixed within them. 

“Why do you use,” you pause for a moment, ignoring Giorno’s rhetorical question to find the best term for his ability. “This… method, when I always come here in the morning. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.” 

At this, you finally decide to turn around and face him. Giorno stands in front of you with a relaxed disposition, having already waved off any staff that were nearby. It makes you grit your teeth, knowing the reason why. He’s here to keep an eye on you now, so there’s no need for them to. 

Not responding to the clear hostility in your voice, Giorno takes a seat close to where you’re standing. Each movement carries with it a sense of grace and control, not unusual to him. The sun just began to rise, and his normal purple suit is worn without a single wrinkle in sight. His golden hair set in place perfectly, deep eyes never weary from lack of sleep; even after long nights. 

Giorno reaches out for a chocolate filled pastry, taking a bite before offering a response. “You woke up earlier than usual.” 

The way he says it without returning your clear irritation only serves to disturb you more. No matter how much you try and upset him, Giorno never gives in. Each movement and word is calculated before your eyes, giving the illusion of a perfect, divine man. 

Frowning, your eyes flicker between the ladybug on your hand, and then back to Giorno. He continues to eat in silence, most likely not wanting to provoke you more than his presence already does. Continuing your quiet seething, you purse your lips. 

“I didn’t take you for my caretaker.” you bite back, eyes narrowing as he doesn’t so much as flinch at your venomous words. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he lightly dusts away any crumbs the pastry left on his lips. 

“I never said I was,” Giorno flashes you a sweet smile, one that promises more. “But I am your husband. The two are almost interchangeable in some regards, aren’t they?” 

The swift reminder only serves to further sour your mood. Typically he’s not the type to rub things in your face, but you know the reason why he mentioned his relation to you this time. Looking down at your bare ring finger, you find the red ladybug finished its previous scurrying. It now stays circling your lower ring finger, as if it had found its original goal. 

Before your very eyes it transforms into a familiar gold band, with a round brilliant diamond in the middle. Various other smaller diamonds line the areas next to it, always making you wonder the original price of such a ring. 

“So you noticed,” you respond dryly, eyeing the ring with faint disdain. “Why am I not surprised...” 

There isn’t much you can do to practically spite Giorno, but little things make you feel better. Even if it’s something small, like taking off your wedding ring, it brings a temporary solace. But every time you hide it somewhere, it always manages to return to you due to Giorno’s Stand. 

Placing the handkerchief back into his pocket, Giorno’s eyes flicker to the food you’ve left untouched on the table. He frowns for a brief second, before looking back to you.

“Come, sit and eat,” Giorno asks of you, motioning to the empty chair next to him. “You haven’t touched your food.” 

Considering your options, you look at the admittedly delicious assortment on the table. It pains you to give into anything Giorno tells you to do, but testing his patience is a tricky battle.

He’ll allow you to verbally retaliate against him most times, as long as you’re picky with your insults. Mentioning your adamant abhorrence towards him or your past life will earn varying degrees of punishments, ranging from solitude to threats towards your family. All said with a loving smile. 

Begrudgingly, you take your seat next to him and attempt to decide what to eat. This early in the morning your appetite isn’t fully there, and the uneasy feeling Giorno brings you doesn’t help. Upon noticing your hesitation, Giorno reaches for a blueberry scone. 

Delicately, he picks up a knife and spreads a generous amount of butter across the flaky top. The butter slowly begins to melt, Giorno seemingly content with the amount. You’re familiar with this little game, knowing that Giorno takes pleasure in preparing food for you that meets his standards. Once he’s done, you gingerly reach to take it from his hands.

Only to be met with a chastising noise, and teasing smile that makes your skin crawl with indignation. 

“If I can’t trust you to eat,” Giorno begins with a soft hum, causing you to knit your eyebrows. “I’ll take it upon myself to feed you.” 

Cheeks flushing, you take a moment to see if he’s joking with you. But as he holds the scone up a few inches from your lips, you realize he’s being dead serious. If anything, he seems to be amusing himself with your embarrassed expression. 

Would it be possible to smack the scone out of his hand? Something tells you that his reflexes might be better than yours, but a small part of you still wants to try your luck. Giorno subtly nudges the scone forth, prompting you to open your mouth for him. 

Humiliation settles in, as you slowly part your lips. Giorno’s eyes soften at your submission, placing the tip of the scone into your mouth. Taking a tentative bite, you’re met with an abundance of flavor. The bread almost melts in your mouth, hints of butter dancing on your taste buds before the tart blueberry follows suit. 

The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, and before you know it, you’ve finished eating the scone. You expect Giorno to pull his hand back, but he keeps it in front of your lips. Tilting your head at the inaction on his part, Giorno takes it as an opportunity to explain.

“I don’t wish to speak too highly of myself, however,” Giorno starts, his thumb reaching to rub circles on your soft lips. “I’ve been considerate of you, signora. Don’t I always meet your needs? Everything I do, I do it for you, my beloved.” 

He ceases his movements momentarily, making sure to hold eye contact with you. You hadn’t noticed it before, but Giorno had moved forward and is now closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, dizziness starting to settle in by his newfound closeness. 

The way his eyes are glazing over with an emotion unidentifiable makes you uncomfortable. But he continues his little speech, continuing to toy with your lips at his leisure. 

“And still you remain so adversarial towards me. It hurts me, it truly does. Even so, I’ve never been the type to quit when I have a hard goal in mind. I’ll have you love me, even if I have to pry it out from you.” 

“What are you--” 

Giorno takes the opportunity to place his middle and index finger into your mouth, making you let out a squeak in shock. He remains level with you, unblinking as a familiar cruelness is found in his tone.

“Would you be a dear and clean my fingers for me? I fear I got them dirty.” 

It takes every ounce of self control you have. Holding back every primal instinct to inflict pain on him by biting down, giving him a taste of your own suffering. But even with the immense temptation, you’re unable to bring yourself to do it. The consequences of such an action would undoubtedly outweigh any momentary satisfaction. 

Fluttering your eyelids shut to avoid his penetrating gaze, you lazily roll your tongue around his fingers. Tilting your head away from his general direction, you’re once again met with a dissatisfied response. 

“Look at me.” 

His tone leaves little room for argument. Opening your eyes once more, you shiver at the sheer intensity on Giorno’s face. It reminds you of how he looks when speaking to his Capos, how he adopts a persona unlike his normal polite self. Rarely does he ever inflict it on you, wanting to always charm you. 

At what feels like a humiliating eternity, Giorno removes his digits from your mouth. You bite your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying anything else you’ll regret, watching in feigned disinterest as he examines his cleaned fingers. 

Giorno drinks in your appearance, his eyes scanning over the different angles of your face. He always compliments your eyes the most, as unwanted as his advances are. You can’t deny that his own turquoise hues are uniquely beautiful, but never intend on letting him know that. From your staring you get the feeling he already knows.

“Obedience is becoming of you, cara.” 

The double edged compliment does little for you, only adding flames to the fire within. A sigh leaves Giorno’s lips at your lack of reaction, reaching out to gingerly sip on a mocha cappuccino. For the Don of a mafia group that controls all of Italy to be so fond of chocolate has always felt ironic to you.

Giorno sees you looking at his cup, and tilts it towards you. Understanding the invitation that signals, you shake your head. Returning to your original goal of looking out the window towards the ocean waves, you’re immensely grateful at the few seconds of silence that he grants you. Any reprieve is to be taken advantage of. 

In between sips, he finally begins to speak once more. “After some deliberation, a five day long vacation would be acceptable. Things have been settling down lately, and I’d still be on call at all times, but…”

He leans in close to you, placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll be able to spend more time with you. Do try and be good for me, will you?”

It’s phrased like a question, but is a command. He has a way of draining all the fight you have to offer from you, slowly and deliberately. In a complex web that he spins, trapping you even further when you struggle. Sighing while you accept your fate for now, all you can give is an uncomplicated answer. 

“--I’ll try.” 

[someonewhowannadielol]

inevitable love (Yandere!Taehyung x SmolBaby!Reader)

You obviously couldn’t take care of yourself, so Kim Taehyung took matters in his own hands. Literally.

Warning: Harassment, loads of capitalism (kinda ironic that I hate capitalism, considering I’m an Econ student sigh), big dog chase idrk, y/n complains a lot lmao also she’s textbook smart but lowkey dumb,,, like me, I'm literally y/n anywaYS 

CHAPTER ONE (Honestly, its more of a prologue)

P.S Sorry, this one's mostly focused on Y/N, I promise Taehyung will make it in the next chap! 

Word Count: 1.4k

This was ridiculous. You had graduated from one of the finest business schools in the world, yet, here you were, sitting in your shabby studio apartment, listening to another rejection after the countless job interviews while watching the paint peel off the walls. You never really thought life would lead to this, you sitting here on your mattress, eating (probably uncooked) ramen, and crossing another job opportunity. The ramen wasn’t that bad, there were no complaints about it from your side anyways, because you couldn’t cook for shit and any food other than premade food was a waste in this household. You still have nightmares about the incident when you accidentally forgot to take off the plastic packaging off the sliced cheese before making a cheese sandwich in the microwave. Only to watch the microwave - and the cheese – explode in front your eyes. The poor baby.

Glancing at your watch, you realize that you have to head downtown to your job – which was paid under minimum wage, but it did make you better off than the homeless, and the jobless. You could still afford at least one meal a day (Was cup ramen considered a meal?) and the chef at the diner would sneakily give you food, sigh, he was so nice. Sometimes, you look back, and think where things went wrong. You were basically a child genius, always a couple classes ahead of your peers, you got almost got a perfect score on the SAT at the first try (it was a 1560!), you got your bachelor’s degree at the age of 18, instead of the usual 22. You look back and see how you used to think that you could afford a luxurious penthouse apartment in Manhattan and pay off your student loans within a year, while working in one of the best companies in world.

You did have the textbook knowledge, but who was there to teach you about the practical world? The real world? The textbooks didn’t teach you how to pay your water and electricity bills, they didn’t teach you how to hold your tears back when the landlord puts a suggestive hand on your waist, they didn’t teach you how to accept countless rejections, or how to use coupons while grocery shopping, or how to ignore the everyday catcalls, or how to walk through the streets at night. They didn’t teach you how to cope with the fact that your father died but you didn’t have enough money for a flight back to your hometown, they didn’t teach you how to not shout at your mother who got a new family, they didn’t teach you the reality.

So, here you were, two years later, serving disgusting men who harassed you, while wearing a skirt that was too short for your liking and heels that made your feet ache every single day. Somehow, it was worse today. Your hair wouldn’t co-operate, your mascara had officially dried out and no amount of contact solution could revive it from its flaky texture, your manager basically manipulated you to wear red lipstick, and these goddamn heels won’t stop hurting your feet.

At this point, I’m just going to die from the chronic feet pain, you thought.

It was just an endless day of serving, picking up dirty dishes, and of course, ignoring the occasional disgusting words of “endearment” from your customers. You were just picking up the mess of ketchup left by a couple of rowdy boys who sat here 15 minutes earlier, repeatedly asking for your number. Interesting enough, despite all the catcalling, you can only recall four people asking for your number.

The first one had been a wannabe bike rider, he was tall, around 6’4 – give or take – and quite chunky with a full curly beard down to his chest. Despite knowing some people who would dig this vibe, you personally didn’t love the entire ensemble. In fact, you cringed whenever you saw these people perform their tricks on the streets (You cringed even more when you saw them fall and smash their head open. Yikes).

You remember, it was your third day at the newly acquired job, and while you weren’t all that ecstatic to start working here (You were already looking for other, more well paid jobs with more benefits), you still respected the job requirement and went up to the customer and asked, “What would you like to order, sir?” in your sweetest voice possible.

“Well, what’s on the special menu?”

Special menu? You weren’t informed about any special menu, maybe your manager forgot to tell you?

“I’m sorry, I’m quite new here, I’ll go confirm this special menu with my manager,” and just as you tried to go to your manager – who by the way had been keeping an eye on you since you got here, you could say she wasn’t exactly fond of you – scary biker dude grabbed your wrist, a little too tight to be called comfortable, and you couldn’t help but wince.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re the first and only item on the special menu. And I’d like to order that, with a side of Vanilla milkshake,”

Okay, crinnngggeee.

And then, as impossible as it seemed, you were forced to smile and laugh it off, even if it disgusted you to the core. And then, you were manipulated to hand over your phone number.

Just go with the flow, Y/N, just go with the flow. Block it later, no worries.

He was known to be a usual customer, but surprisingly, he didn’t actually ever come to the diner after that, nor did he call you. Now that you notice, no one you gave your number to, actually did call you. Whether it was the biker, or the druggie, or the 50-year-old man who promised to buy you a yacht. Eh, he was so old, he probably died on his way home. So, you never knew whether to take it as an insult, or a blessing.

Well, this day was almost over until 5 minutes before closing down, a bunch of people, who were probably high, because of the unmistakable scent of weed coming from them – came and demanded to be served. Of course, the manager could score any penny she could, so of course, you were forced to work overtime again. Without getting paid.

Finally, a little after 1am, you could take off these horrid heels and slip into the much comfier sketchers. Sure, you had glued them a couple of times, and sure, they kept on breaking because you’ve had them since high school, but it’s okay. You’ll live.

You were halfway down the route to your house, as you tried to rub your fingers together and somehow magically take away the freezing wind this cold night brought. As you walked, you attempted to feel your phone in your back pocket – annddd just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse. You’d probably left it back in your locker or your apron’s pocket and for a second you contemplated whether it would be worth it to go all the way back at 2am to get you phone. You almost decided against it, but remembered that you would get the confirmation call from the job interview you gave on Thursday, anytime tomorrow. And so, you decided to go back. Well, this was one of the worst decisions of your life. Scratch that, it was the worst decision of your life.

You reached the diner in approximately 10 minutes, but obviously, everything was locked and there was no way you’d sneak in there because, phew, if you got caught you’d lose the only job you have. Just as you turned back, you saw the biggest fucking dog you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know much about dogs, except for the fact that you’re shitless scared of the big, scary ones – and this was definitely a big, scary one. His fur was coated with black, brown and red spots, about half your height, and had teeth that could tear a human in mere seconds.

You didn’t really know whether to run or gently walk away, making it think you weren’t a threat – you took a couple slow steps back while looking at it in the eye, but you’re a dumbass and suddenly decided to run. Somehow along the run you lost the dog. And one of your shoes. And your apartment keys. And your bag which contained this week’s paycheck.

Well, you were fucked.

A/N: Please do give feedback! Also, tell me if you want to be on the taglist for this!

[theyanderespecialist]

Their Sickly Star (Headcanons) Yandere Moon/Sun x Sick Gender Neutral Reader

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back, back again, Queen is back, tell a friend~ Anyways this one Has Moondrop with a Sick Reader! I hope that you all enjoy this!]  (Disclaimer: Moondrop and Sundrop are not yandere, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are you dirty flaky biscuit! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) -Headcanons With Moondrop and Moondrop X Sick Gender Neutral Listener From FNAF- 

.Moondrop is the quiet animatronic that normally watches over you while you sleep.  .So when he heard you struggling to breathe he scanned your body. 

.He found out you were sick, so he decided to take care of you. 

.Getting you cold cloaths for your fever. 

.Having you take the medicine you need. 

.Massaging out all your aches and pains with his vibrating fingers. 

.He would not let you leave the bed at all!  .He is firm on keeping you nice and safe in bed. 

.He may even tie you to the bed if you try to leave it without permission. 

.He is very firm with keeping you healthy, safe, and sound. 

.He is very protective of you, but also very calm and very in control. 

.Since he is yandere he would NOT LET Anyone around you when you are sick. 

.He would order doordash and or other delivery services for groceries and food for you. Not to mention medicine. 

.If a rival of his got you sick he would not be happy with them, banning them from the house. 

.Now if this was at the daycare he would kidnap you and keep you tied down and gagged so you do not cry out for help.  .He would make sure that you got plenty of sleep and rest for you, making sure you are safe and sound.  .He would not let any of the other staff take you from him. 

.He would accuse your coworkers that they made you sick and that would make him even more worried. 

.He would be a possessive caretaker, he wants to be the only one to take care of you. 

.Sundrop and him are the only good partners and caretakers for you. 

.He is very sweet in his own way and would protect you. 

.He would tell you how much he loves you while you are sick, and that you only need him and sundrop. 

.That he would kill for you to keep you healthy and safe.  -Now Sundrop- 

.Now Sundrop is a very much worry wart!

.He is frantic thinking that you are going to die! 

.He is very overprotective and supper possessive. 

.He needs to be the one to take care of you and wish Moon did not have to take care of you either. You are his sunshine! Not moons!  .Sundrop is a bit more in your face about taking care of your health. 

.He would be the one to drug you if he had to, unlike moondrop. 

.He would do it so you could not move so you could not leave him.  .He is protective and clingy as a yandere with you his sickly star. 

.He would be hovering with you, making sure you are okay, and asking over and over if you need anything. 

.He would have you eating so much chicken noodle soup you would feel it was coming out of your nose! 

.Sundrop would punish anyone who would have got you sick. 

.Who did they think they were? Making his sweet star sick and making them feel bad. 

.They needed to be punished!  .He would carry you everywhere you needed to go and would smother you with love.  .Instead of tying you down, he would lay in the bed with you, holding you to his chest, all you need is him!  .He is worried moondrop would be too scary to you when you are sick. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins! I decided to do Sundrop in this as well, just so you know! Stay Sexy Again!] 

[sinning-on-a-sunday]

Could I ask for a smutty oneshot of yandere prince/king Taehyung x servant reader. Maybe he finds where y/n hides in the castle, or they're (he's more so) playing hide and go seek in the garden, or something about a punishment. Whatever you wanna do.💖 Thank you 💖

you should see me in a crown

- warnings: yandere behaviors, sexual content, obsessive behavior

- a/n: sorry this took so long, i am also sorry that is a whole 3.5k words

copyright © 2019-2020 under sinning-on-a-sunday. do not repost or translate my works without my explicit permission. this includes stealing my ideas/plot.

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

The only way a person survives working for the Kim family is by being as inconspicuous as possible. Good servants were docile, diligent, dutiful. They worked harder than they were supposed to and never placed blame on anyone but themselves.

The only reason you’d lasted so long at this job was because you were an exceptionally hard worker. You’d served the Kim family ever since Taehyung was a prince. He’d always been a spoiled brat, cruel and narcissistic, born with a silver, jewel-encrusted spoon in his mouth. But when he became king, his ego only became that much more self-inflated.

Staff started getting fired left and right, fear engulfed the castle like a plague, and you quickly found yourself at the top of the metaphorical food chain. A servant had to bust their ass every single day just to keep up, but unlike the rest of them, you hardly ever made mistakes. It wasn’t beauty or wit that captured Taehyung’s eye, it was your tenacity.

You’d never wanted his attention, you’d never asked to become his favorite.

You memorized his schedule until you knew it like the back of your hand, you knew when he took his tea and how many sugars he liked, never messing up his order or forgetting to serve it in his favorite cup. You knew his morning, afternoon, and evening routines better than you knew your own.

One of Taehyung’s favorite things about you was that you solved problems before they became problems, like restocking his art supplies before he had a chance to run out, or ordering the latest fashion statements from his favorite luxury brands before he even requested them. He would ask you to do something only to find that it had already been done.

You never spoke unless spoken to, and whenever he needed something you were already by his side, ready and willing to do whatever it took to make him happy.      

You didn’t even know he was aware that you existed until that one rainy day in November. It was one of your few days off, and you were spending it in the castle library, curled up in the windowsill like a cat. However, it was cut short before you had a chance to enjoy it.

In the throne room, Taehyung sat in his golden, diamond-studded chair, eyes scanning the room lazily. He twirled his blue hair between his fingers as he grew more and more bored by the minute.

Movement at his side made him look up. He narrowed his eyes at the woman leaning over him, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

“Who are you?” He snapped, making her tense.

“I-I’m…” The servant girl began before being cut off.

“Where’s Y/N?” Taehyung spat out, irritation sharpening his tone.

“I-It’s her day off. She’s not working today.” The servant stuttered out.

Taehyung just glared at her.

“Well, go get her then. At least she knows that I prefer Earl Grey over fucking Chamomile.”

She scurried away before he had a chance to fire her.

You had a book sprawled open on your lap when you heard the commotion in the hallway. When you opened the door, servants were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, shouting and chattering incoherently.

“What’s going on?” You called out to the nearest person.

She froze upon hearing your voice, turning to stare at you with eyes blown wide.

“Y/N! There you are!” She lurched forward to grab your arm.

“I found her!” She shouted, causing everyone in the hallway to whip around and crowd around you. Hands invaded your vision, pushing, pulling you forward, leading you down the hall faster then your feet could carry you.

“What the hell is going on?” You shouted, letting them drag you along.

“The king is demanding your presence. He’s on a rampage, he’s already fired three people.”

Your blood ran cold. This is bad, this is really bad. When Taehyung throws a tantrum, at least one person gets beheaded, and you were certain that person was about to be you.

But what did I do? Your mind scrambled to think of a reason justifying his behavior. You didn’t recall pissing him off recently. In fact, the last time you saw him, he was in a better mood than usual.

You reached the throne room before you could think of a logical explanation. The only thought you had in your mind was that you had done something wrong and were about to be sent to the guillotine because of it.

The thick oak doors were pushed open, and you were shoved inside.

You’d been in the throne room a million times, being Taehyung’s favorite servant required it, but for some reason it looked different this time. Maybe because you thought this was the last time you’d ever see it.

The light from the twinkling chandelier overhead was dimmer, casting shadows against the walls and across the polished marble floor. Your footsteps seemed to echo like gunshots in the silence, and your hands trembled as you approached your imminent doom.

Taehyung was dressed in rich blue jacket with gold embellishments, tigers embroidered on each lapel. He had one jeweled hand held up to his mouth, flashing the giant sapphire ring on his middle finger. His eye shadow-lined eyes flickered up to meet yours when he heard you coming.

“Ah, Y/N! Finally!”

You were startled by the tone of his voice. He sounded almost…happy to see you?

“Go and make me a cup of tea, will you? Since apparently you’re the only one who knows how to do it right.” He ordered.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Wasn’t he going to yell at you? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Y-Yes, your Majesty.” You said after a pause, hurrying into the kitchen to fix him his tea.

You returned in record time, far quicker than any of the other servants, and offered him the teacup in shaking hands.

He raised it to his lips, closing his eyes in delight as the warmth cascaded down his throat.

“Perfect.” He whispered to himself.

Your face was furrowed in confusion, watching him, waiting for him to deliver your death sentence on a silver platter.

But he just sat there sipping his tea, humming a cheerful tune. Several minutes passed before he spoke again.

He raised one ringed finger in the air.

“Get me a—” He began, only to be cut off by you already at his side, offering him his favorite pastry.

“Yes, exactly.” He didn’t say thank you, he never did, but he flashed you a small smile. To say it took you by surprise would be an understatement.

You waited and waited for him to say something, anything, but he just licked his fingers clean of the flaky bits of dough, staring ahead blankly.

“Um, Your Majesty?” You said timidly, deathly afraid that he would punish you just for speaking.

“Yes?”

“Why am I here?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Taehyung looked at you, his brows knitted together.

“Don’t you know? You’re the best servant in the castle, everybody else just fucks things up. You belong by my side.”

~~~

Over the next few weeks, Taehyung and you grew closer. He promoted you to head of staff, and you became his official personal servant, fulfilling his every whim and need. There wasn’t a time when you weren’t right there by his side.

If you were telling the truth, it was exhausting. Taehyung would throw a fit if anyone besides you tried to serve him, which meant you were responsible for literally everything. His meals, his laundry, his meetings and royal duties, even his recreational activities, you had to take care of it all.

As time passed, Taehyung got to know you more as a person. He stopped seeing you simply as the help and thought of you as more of as his own little plaything. He derived a great amount of pleasure from teasing you and watching you erupt into a fit of stuttering and blushing.

He started to notice all your little quirks and habits, like how you always avoided eye contact when you were flustered, or how you became extremely embarrassed whenever someone complimented you.

It took a few months for him to start viewing you in a romantic light, but once he did, there was no turning back.

You were delivering his breakfast one morning when he made an advance for the first time.

“Come in.” Taehyung called after you knocked on the door. He sat up in his gigantic four poster bed, hair disheveled and sticking up at odd angles, watching as you walked towards him with a silver tray in your hands. You set it down on his bedside table, trying to ignore the way his eyes were following your every move.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Majesty?” You asked, hands clasped in front of you.

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he scanned you up and down.

“Why don’t you join me?” He said, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

You nearly choked on your own spit.

“W-What?” You stuttered out. He only smiled wider at your taken aback state.

“I said, why don’t you join me, Y/N. You must be exhausted after all your hard work.” He reached out to take your hand, trying to pull you closer. The movement made the sheets rustle and shift, revealing his smooth chest as you realized he was shirtless.

“I-I, um…I need to-I should really get back to the kitchen.” You pulled your hand out of his grasp and hurried out of the room before he could get another word out.

Every day after that became your own personal nightmare. He made his affection for you painfully obvious, touching you at every opportunity, constantly complimenting you and making suggestive remarks. You tried to ignore it as best you could, but after a while, Taehyung grew impatient.

One day, Taehyung was taking a bath in his magnificent white marble tub, when he requested that you bring him more towels. When you entered the room, your cheeks immediately turned red.

It was dark, illuminated only by candles and the low light of the sconces on the walls. The tub, which was big enough to comfortably fit four people, was surrounded by stone columns and a ring of rose petals on the polished floor. Taehyung was sitting inside of it with his arms propped up on the edge, wearing nothing but a smirk, the rings on his slim fingers, and a sapphire around his neck the size of the Hope Diamond.

He gestured you over with a curl of his bejeweled fingers, and your body obeyed on instinct.

You came to a stop and stood there next to the tub, arms tightening around the bundle of towels in your arms. Thankfully, the water was cloudy, bubbles and cherry blossoms floating peacefully, and everything below his rib cage was hidden from view.

Taehyung looked up at you, tilting his head to the side in amusement.

“You got here quick. Was someone excited to see me?” He asked in a high, teasing voice.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and moved to set the towels down.

“Ah ah ah, hand me one.” Taehyung commanded.

You pursed your lips but did as he said, extending your arm towards him and offering the piece of fluffy material.

Instead of taking it, he grabbed your wrist, the metal of his rings biting into your skin, and yanked you forward.

You fell into the tub with a splash, scrambling to sit up, facing away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You immediately choked out. You tried to climb out, but Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist from behind and pulled you closer so your back was flush against his chest.

He chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Shh shh, calm down.” He whispered in your ear. One of his hands was gripping your waist, and the other was wrapped tightly around one of your wrists, effectively keeping you in place.

You felt his fingers drift up to the back of your dress, plucking the buttons loose one by one.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked, dreading the answer.

Taehyung nuzzled into the side of your neck, planting a soft kiss to your earlobe.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

Your stomach dropped.

Now, you had two options. 1. Tell him to fuck off and storm out, which would undeniably end in termination, or 2. Give in and allow him to do whatever he wanted with you. You were understandably leaning towards option #1, but on the other hand, you had no idea what he would if you rejected him. Would he fire you? Would he blacklist you so you could never find work again? Would he send you to the dungeon? Would he have you killed for disobeying him?

The possibilities were too risky, too dangerous, so, with a heavy amount of reluctance, you reached down to pull your dress up over your head with shaking fingers. Tossing the wet fabric aside, you shivered as Taehyung’s fingertips brushed your bare shoulder.

“Good girl.” He murmured, quickly finding the latch of your bra and unclasping it. He helped you scoot out of your panties until you were sitting there completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you felt a stream of warm water fall over your head, looking back over your shoulder to see Taehyung holding a pitcher. After your hair was completely wet, he started to lather a handful of shampoo into your scalp.

“I knew you were the right one for me, look how well-behaved you’re being.” Taehyung praised as he washed your hair.

You sat there completely silent, frozen with fear. You weren’t exactly sure why you were being so willing, maybe you’d been a servant too long, your brain was practically hardwired to blindly follow orders.

You found it very strange that Taehyung was washing your hair for you. In all the time you’d known him, he’d never done a single thing for another person. Everything he did had a selfish reason, so why was he the one serving you when he was actual royalty?

After Taehyung had rinsed your hair clean, his arms came to snake around your torso once again.

A bowl of red grapes and a bottle of wine with two glasses was sitting on the edge of the tub, and Taehyung reached over to pluck a grape from the bunch and press it to your lips.

Your parted your clenched teeth, letting him slip it inside, but his fingers lingered in your mouth.

You knew what he wanted you to do.

Your lips wrapped around his digits, sucking obediently. Taehyung hummed in satisfaction.

“Look at you, you even obey the silent commands.”

The two of you sat there for what felt like hours. Taehyung didn’t try anything other than letting his hands roam all over your body, but you still felt irreversibly exposed by the end of it.

When Taehyung finally allowed you to escape from his grasp, you quickly hopped out of the tub, wrapped a towel around your body, and hurried out of the room.

His eyes followed you as you left, that smug smile never once leaving his face.

He wasn’t done with you yet.

~~~

You’d started hiding from him. The library was by far the best spot, since it was one of the only rooms Taehyung never entered. It worked for a while, avoiding him, that is, until he found your hiding spot.

You were scanning the shelves, devoting every ounce of your attention to the words printed on the leather-bound spines, so much so that you didn’t hear the door creak open. You didn’t notice the quiet sound of his footsteps as he tiptoed over to where you were standing against the wall. You didn’t even notice as he stood there watching you, smiling to himself as you read the summary on the inside of the book jacket.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Taehyung finally said, breaking the silence.

You audibly gasped and dropped the book you were holding.

Taehyung chuckled, bending down to pick it up and place it back on the shelf. He shook his head at you, clicking his tongue.

“I’m disappointed, Y/N. To think, you’ve been up there this whole time, denying your duties, when you should’ve been by my side where you belong.”

You felt your fists clench at their sides. How dare he, how dare he claim that I’m not doing my job. I’ve been working my fingers to the bone ever since he made me his personal servant and now he claims that I’m the one in the wrong?

“Feed your own ego, I’m busy.” You spat, turning back to the shelves and resuming your browsing.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in surprise. Did he finally break you? Did he finally make you snap?

The king took a step forward and placed his hand on the beam of wood next to your head, caging you with his body. His face was inches from yours as he stared down at you with narrowed eyes.

“What did you just say to me?” He practically growled.

You turned to face him, blood boiling under your skin, and returned his glare with equal ferocity.

“You may have everyone else here bowing down to you, but not me. I see through your little facade. Everyone else may think you’re a king, but I know better. You’re just a spoiled little boy who thinks he owns everything and everyone. You may be able to get whatever you want, but you can’t have me. Not now, not ever.”

You waited for his reply, you waited for him to yell at you, fire you, grab you and throw you in the dungeon, but it never came. Instead, Taehyung only smirked. The gesture made goosebumps rise all along your skin.

“It seems to me that you’ve spent too much time by yourself, Y/N. I think you need to be punished.” He said.

You ground your teeth but stayed silent.

“Tell you what, sweetheart. Since you like hiding so much, we’re gonna play a little game.” Taehyung began, a smug edge to his deep voice.

“You are going to hide anywhere you want in the castle, and I’m going to try and find you.” He explained.

You narrowed your eyes, scanning him up and down.

“What do I get if I win?” You asked.

“If you win, I’ll leave you alone. You can continue to work here without any pestering on my part.”

“What do you get if you win?” You asked him suspiciously.

Taehyung’s expression darkened, and he leaned forward until his nose was almost touching yours.

“You.” He said. “If I win, you will give yourself to me completely. You will surrender to your king like any good servant would.”

It was risky, but Taehyung was an idiot if he believed that he knew the castle better than you. You’d lived and worked here for years, you knew every inch of this place.

You extended your hand for him to shake.

“Deal.”

~~~

The clock started at 2:35, and Taehyung had until 3:00 to find you.

You immediately ran towards the garden. The outside of the castle was almost as big as the inside, and with all the foliage and twists and turns in the path, you were confident that you could effectively stay out of sight.

You took off your shoes so you would leave less tracks and make less noise when walking, you tied up your skirt so you could run without it getting tangled, you even left a false trail for Taehyung to unwittingly follow.

There were plenty of lush trees and hedges to hide behind, and you jumped from spot to spot to keep Taehyung on his toes.

Your heart was pounding in your chest the entire time, ears straining and eyes searching for any sign of movement. As time passed, you were quite sure that you were going to win, but then you heard a rustle.

The sound of footsteps and snapping twigs assaulted your ears as you closed in on yourself, trying to make your body appear as small as possible.

“I know you’re out here, Y/N.” Taehyung’s voice called out over the silence.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Come on out, sweetheart. I’ll go easier on you if you surrender now.”

You bent down even further, ducking your head down. You heard leaves crunching under his boots, the sound fading until it had disappeared completely.

You waited a solid few minutes before moving, pulse thundering. You figured it would be a good idea to switch spots again, after such a close call. Emerging from your hiding spot, you turned to hurry in the opposite direction, when you collided with something hard and warm.

A pair of hands gripped your wrists, yanking you towards them.

Your stomach dropped as you looked up at your captor.

Taehyung smirked at you.

“Gotcha.”

[theyanderespecialist]

Her Hellhound (Headcanons) Yandere Carmilla Carmine X Male Hellhound Reader (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with another chapter! This one is Yandere Carmilla Carmine X Hellhound male Reader headcanons and maybe more! Now let's do this! Please enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer: Carmilla Carmine is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!) 

-Yandere Headcanons With Carmilla Carmine X Male Hellhound Reader- 

.Carmilla did not have a problem with hell hounds persay.  .She did not feel one way about them or the other. 

.They were just there and sometimes even worked for her as guards for her. 

.She does not hate them for who or what they are, but she has never really thought about them more than guards or employees. 

.Sometimes she has seen them as dogs, because of the way society portrays them, but that was rare. 

.Then she met you, a hellhound male that was looking for work. 

.She was taken aback by who you were and what she felt for you. 

.Such a handsome man, and such a strong man. 

.She hired you as a personal bodyguard for herself and sometimes her daughter.s 

.You did not fail her, and she noticed how you put your life on the line even against heaven's angles to protect her daughters. 

.This made her see you in a very high light. 

.She trusts you with secrets and knows that you are loyal to her. 

.She would trust her girls with you as well, knowing that they are safe with you. 

.She loves you like she has loved no other.  .Of course, she knows that her love for you is fleeting, as you are a hellhound and not immortal like her. 

.Even if you aged slowly there was still the difference that you would age and one day die. 

.She hates that with all her heart, cause she knows one day that time will come when your life ends and she will continue on. 

.So for this she makes every moment count. 

.She is the type of yandere that would spend all this time with you treasuring all the time she can spend with you.  .Cherishing it, and cherishing you. 

.She would love to find a way to make you immortal, but she knows that that is not in the cards. 

.So she is not going to spend all that time researching it when she can make all the memories she can with you. 

.With rivals she is protective of you and can play the ownership card. 

.She sees that you are hers and her rivals have no chance at you cause by hell's laws she owns you. 

.So if rivals tried anything she would pull out that she technically owns you and they can back the fuck off. 

.If the rivals do not back off then, well they are as good as dead because she is the top weapon arms dealer in hell and NO ONE is taking her man away from her! 

.She would love to also have her kids see you as their dad and let you help in the parenting. 

.She wants to share her life with you and all it entails. 

.She would also want to marry you and make you her husband, not giving a fuck about what other overlords or Lucifer say. 

.She is going to spend every moment she can to make a life worth remembering with you. 

.She is the type of yandere that can seem a bit cold and calculating. 

.But also the yandere that loves with all her heart and would bear whatever storm comes her way to keep you the man of dreams, and her future husband safe. 

.She is a very protective yandere that will be your armor and will be your sword to protect and defend you with her life. 

.She is not some damsel in distress she Is a brave yandere that will fight to the death to protect you her man, just as she would to protect her daughters. 

.She would confess to you after you two had been dating for some time. 

.If you accept her love she is so happy she may just cry tears of joy, because unlike you she is a sinner she was sent to live in hell, and you were born in hell. 

.You are something that is good in soul while she earned her place in hell. 

.If you turn her down she is not mad, she is not upset, she is not hurt. 

.It just means she has to try harder to earn your love. 

.She will not punish you, or hurt you, or kidnap you. 

.She is a fair yandere. 

.But MAN OH MAN! You better not cheat on her or tell her you are already seeing someone! Because she is still a yandere. She would make sure your partner is dealt with. 

.And she will make it so that you had no idea that it was her. 

.In her mind she is the only one good enough for you, and she will earn your love, but she is not going to let anyone else get in the way of her earning your love, you can count on that! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[theyanderespecialist]

Clef's Demi Goddess SCP (Headcanons) Yandere Alto Clef X SCP Female Reader (SCP Foundation)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter! This one is going to be with A Archive of Our Request:  May I request headcanons with Dr. Alto Clef x Female reader that has meta-nature manipulation and reality warping, and is the daughter of an unknown entity/deity (primordial god of love from Greek mythology)? If that is no problem. 

Anyways enjoy this chapter!] 

(Disclaimer: Dr.  Alto Clef Is Not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank You!) 

-Yandere Headcanons With Dr. Alto Clef X Female SCP Reader From The SCP Foundation- 

.Clef did not want to fall in love with you. 

.It was his job to decommission you, but you were an otherworldly and beautiful woman. 

.More or less you were a demi-goddess. 

.He also could not bring himself to hurt you, you were in a similar situation to his daughter. 

.Except you willingly stayed at the foundation. 

.You stayed and allowed them to use your abilities for the greater good and their research. 

.Clef made sure that he was the researcher in charge of your case, so he saw you at least once a day. 

.He was very fond of you and would see you as much as possible. 

.Of course the more he got to know you the more possessive he became of you. 

.So he made sure that there was NO men on the team that worked with you. 

.He was not going to let any man look at how beautiful you were. 

.He also made sure that they talked to you as little as possible. 

.He wanted to be the only one in your life. 

.Since you were a reality bender and a literal demi-goddess of an SCP he made it so you could help him in decommissioning other SCPS. 

.If anyone in the foundation fell in love with you, they were dealt with right away. 

.If a human rival a gunshot from Clef's cancer gun would end their life so fast. 

.If it is an SCP he does his best to decommission them. 

.If he cannot do that he makes sure that you cannot see them ever again and that they stay away from you. 

.He did not like when he had to cross-test you with other SCPS. 

.He forbids you from seeing certain SCPS like 682 and 076-2 and many others. 

.He could not risk you being hurt by them like that. He rather dies than let it happen. 

.He has been hurt by a literal goddess before. 

.So he would for the longest time keep his heart guarded, not admitting that he was in love with you. 

.Because he is afraid of being hurt again. 

.Of course, the love for you is much stronger than his late wife. 

.So he is super possessive of you and very protective. 

.He is also a shameless flirt with you, making comments about wanting to fuck you and all the things he would do to you when he made love to you. (This is when he accepted his feelings for you.) 

.He would only be fully honest with you, while everyone else gets lies. 

.He would confess to you with a good amount of sincerity. As he is showing his true feelings for you.  

.If you accept his love he will be so happy and you can bet your sweet ass that you are going to be having sex with him very very soon! 

.If you do not accept his love, well he could not let this happen, so he will find a way to fully contain you, and he will be the only one you ever see again. 

.You should have just accepted his love because there is no going back now. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, Another chapter done! I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter, and please stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[theyanderespecialist]

Run Away, Reborn 3 (Scenarios) Yanderes Upper Moons and Muzan X Female Reader (Demon Slayer) (WITH UPPER MOON 4 Emotion Clones: Anger/Sekido, Sorrow/Aizetsu, Pleasure/Karaku, Joy/Urogi, and Hatred/Zohakuten!) (WARNING!!!WARNING: Dismemberment, Torture, Blood, and Gore In Zohakten's Part!!!)

[Hello My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another part of the Run Away, Reborn Scenarios and this one has to do with just Upper Moon 4 the five emotions, so let's get on to this! 

Side note I might do a part 2 of this part 3!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan and The Upper Moon Demons in this, are not yandere in canon! This is just for Fun and Not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You Know Who You Are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, Remember To Separate Fiction From Reality And Headcanon FromCanon! Thank you!) 

(WARNING!!!WARNING: Dismemberment, Torture, Blood, and Gore In Zohakten's Part!!!)

(Upper Moon 4: Sekido/Anger) (RAGE) 

(Sekido's POV) 

We had known her for years, she was our lover, and she was weak and helpless to us. She loved us, or at least that is what we thought. She secretly held resentment toward us. She then ran one day, from our love nest, I remember screaming her name. For her to come back. I could not run after her as the sun rose, I had felt rage through me as I killed the other clones. I was not going to forget this. Never.  Now standing in front of me, here she is, our love, reborn and now a demon slayer. She had cut Hantengu open and her eyes widened. She was frozen. Karaku laughs.  "Look at her Sekido! It is like she has not aged a day!" He laughs. "Even in that fucking ugly slayer uniform she is sexy as all hell~"  "SHUT UP!" I Shout at him and slam my staff down shocking her. She cried out and I hated hurting her, it made me angry that I had to hurt her. Once she falls down I am on her, tearing off her uniform. "YOU BETRAYED US! YOU LEFT US! THEN YOU DIE AND COME BACK! BECOMING A SLAYER TO KILL US!"  "S-Stop!" She cries out and tries to push my hands away as she shields her body from me.  I grabbed her by the throat and she cut me again to get me to let go. Aizetsu comes out of me, and she runs away her top ruined. I will not let our (Name) get away EVER AGAIN!  "Get her Karaku!" I screamed at him. 

(Upper Moon 4: Karaku/Pleasure) (LUST~) 

(Karaku's POV) 

(Name) was running as fast as she could and I ran just faster than her. I tackle her down to the ground and she cries out. I smell her neck and groan. I remember the last night we had with her~ We all made love to her~ She wore us out that night~ Such a talented lover she was. She then somehow got away, I remember waxing up to Sekido crushing my skull as he stomped my head. 

"Oh~ (Name)~" I groan. "Your scent smells so good~ My sexy little human~ So helpless-" She swung her blade back and ended up cutting off my head. That is when Urogi emerged as well. 

I was focused on her as I smiled my head growing back.  "Look at you~," I say and grind up against her. "You have so much fight in you~ Come on love! Use that for the bedroom~"  She punched me in the face and then kneed me in the groin. Okay! That one hurt a bit! I fall on her and she pushes me off.  Urogi would not let her get far. (Upper Moon 4: Urogi/Joy) (PURE UNRIVALED JOY) 

I had been really hurt when she left, not just by Sekdio, not even when he tore off my wings. No, what hurt me was that my mate had left me. I was closer to her than the others because I am a hawk-type demon. Hawks mate for life and when we mated her, that made her the one and only person I wanted to ever be with again, maybe to have some hatchlings with her~ She would help me molt my feathers and would preen me~ I loved it when she would do that~ Washing with her was the best thing in the world~ I also had loved to scent mark her~ To mark her with my scent so any demon knew to stay away from out mate~  I grab her by her shoulders and fly off with her, She hits my legs and I do not mind. "This is great, (Name)!" I cry. "You do not know how happy I am! To have you back! It makes my heart sing!"  I was so happy I could almost cry tears of joy I threw her up in the air and caught her pulling her close and nipping playfully at her ear. 

"You are mine again~ I am never letting you out of my sight again~" I inform her and fly down to where the others are waiting.  I was never happier than right now~ This is the happiest moment in my long life~! 

(Upper Moon 4: Aizetsu/Sorrow) (Not GOOD Enough!) 

I had cried for I do not know how long when I realized she ran from us. It broke my heart and I could not eat for weeks. All I wanted was to find her and beg for her to give us a second chance. That we could be the good lovers that she wanted and be the lovers she needed. I would have done anything to have her back in my arms. But we never found her. I mourned for her and never took another lover, none of us did. She was our only one~ and no one could fill the sorrow she left in my heart.  But here she is as Urogi sets her on the ground. She was surrounded and I felt tears prickle my eyes as I saw her anger and disgust, does she still not love us~  "(Name)..." I say slowly. "It makes me sad, to know you do not love us, please, let us love you. We will do it right this time, please my dear~"  I wanted to touch her to pull her close. But she wields her sword and does (breathing style) which cuts off all of our heads at once and she continues to run away from us. Sekido was so mad. 

"THAT IS IT!" He snaps and starts to absorb Karaku and Urogi! "SHE IS NOT LEAVING US EVER AGAIN!"  I knew what he was doing! He would not treat her kindly! He would hurt her. 

"P-Please! Sekido! She won't survive it!" I sob and he absorbs me as well!  (Upper Moon 4: Zohakuten/Hatred) (HEARTBREAK AND HATRED) 

(Zohakuten's POV) (HE IS PHYSICALLY AGED UP!!!) 

(WARNING BLOOD GORE AND SEMI TORTURE IN THIS ONE! NO ONE WAS ACTUALLY HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS CHAPTER/PART!)  When I saw through the others that she left, I never hated her, not until she left us. Heartbreak and hatred were in my heart. I had wanted nothing more than to find her kill her and make her pay for breaking my heart. The Hatred festered in me for decades. Then I saw her through their eyes. She was reborn and I felt the heartbreak as fresh as it was I saw her leave. I knew I still loved her and I hated myself for it, but more so I hated her, for making all of us love her, she will never leave our side again! 

I looked at her as she ran and I lunged after her stepping on her back hard. "YOU THINK!" I began. "You can break OUR HEARTS, Betray US! BETRAY ME!" He growls. "HOW I WISH I CUT YOUR LEGS OFF! Then you would not have Run! How you made ME HATE MYSELF! I blamed myself for you leaving! Blamed MYSELF FOR NOT BEING ENOUGH! I HATED THAT YOU HURT ME SO MUCH! HATE THAT TO THIS DAY I STILL LOVE YOU!"  I move my stomps from her back and stomp with all my strength on the back of one of her knees. She screamed in agony. I stomped on it again and again the bone severing and the flesh and muscles being reduced to nothing but a paste. I did the same for the other one. She was screaming at me to just kill her and I laughed as tears streamed down my face. 

"Never~" I laugh cruelly through my tears. I kneeled down and flipped her over.  I stroker her cheek and she looks to be in so much pain. "I hope you learned your lesson~," I tell her and pick her up. "Even if you did not, you will never be able to run away again~" 

-One week later-

(No One's POV)  They had healed your legs where they were not infected and the skin regrew where your thighs ended. You were helpless now, you would never be able to run from them again, and you would never be a demon slayer again. The nerve damage made the end of your thighs too painful to walk on right now. So you had to be nice to your lovers. So They could carry you and help you. If not they would force you to be nice.  They never hurt you since that day, but you knew they had all the power and once again you were helpless to them. This time though, you would never escape. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter here and stay sexy,  all of my sexy muffins!] 

[theyanderespecialist]

Run Away, Reborn 2 (Scenarios) Yanderes Upper Moons and Muzan X Female Reader (This One Has Doma and Akaza) (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with part 2! This one has Doma And Akaza in it! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here, my muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan and The Upper Moon Demons in this, are not yandere in canon! This is just for Fun and Not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You Know Who You Are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, Remember To Separate Fiction From Reality And Headcanon FromCanon! Thank you!)

(Doma, Upper Moon 2) (Harmed and Harmed Again) 

(Doma's POV) 

I never felt this way about anyone before. This poor woman I found running in the woods. Her blood smelled so sweet. Then I locked eyes with hers. Those stunning (eye color) eyes and her hair were beautiful (hair color). It was tangled and had blood in it. Matting her hair to her face and head. I felt panic in me as I saw her fearful eyes and the state she was in. How bruises and marks are all over her body. I wanted to take her in my arms and make sure she was okay.  "H-Help me..." She begs.  She had passed out and I Had brought her back to the cult. I had taken care of her and became attached to her. I realized the thing I was feeling for her was love! How I loved my sweet little human. She was the only one who made me feel anything! It was all perfect! But then... She ran away, she saw me eating one of the cult members and she ran,  I had rushed after her, my heart racing in fear of losing her. She came to a cliff side and I reached out to grab her. She turned around and then the cliffside gave way and her body was crushed by the rubble. I dug her out, but by the time I got to her, it was too late.  I could not turn her into a demon! I lost her! I sobbed and screamed into the night. My heart ached for the love of my life, the loss was terrible. 

I then saw her again, I was visiting Daki, and I heard her voice. I felt my blood run cold as I heard her scream for help. I rushed to the room and saw her, naked and shielding her body as the man kicked and punched her. I felt my blood boil and I ripped the man's head off. She looked up at me and I knew it was her.  I blushed as I never saw her naked before, but she had the same eyes, the same hair, the same everything. She stared up at me with the same horror she had when she saw me eating the follower. I felt the fear of her running again.  "(Name)." I say and drop the head, kneeling in front of her, licking her head wound.  Her blood~ It tastes the same~  "L-Let me go..." She cries out. "I-I wo-won't tell anyone.."  "Oh, (Name)." I stroke her cheek and pick up her torn kimono. "I won't let anyone harm you again, you keep running from me. Forgive me."  I grabbed her foot and tore it off and froze her wound so it stopped bleeding. She sobbed and tried to push me away, before passing out. I hated that I had to hurt her. But I cannot bear losing her again~  "I love you~ (Name)~ My (Name)~" I sing-song, I was just so happy to have her back. I feel bad for hurting her, but this time I will not lose her. "I will never let you be harmed again~ My love~" 

(Akaza, Upper Moon 3) (Lonliness) 

(Akaza's POV) 

Life without (Name) was terrible. I had loved her so much, the first person I loved as a demon. She had been My world, I was not lonely when I got to see her almost every night. But when she saw me killing the man that hit on her. Disrespecting her! It made me freeze, and she then ran. I had run after her, but I lost track of her. The sun was coming up and I could not look for her any longer! I had screamed into the night swearing I would find her. 

That is what I thought I would do. But it has been over 100 years and I am certain she is dead now. I mourned her and felt my heart break. I did not think I would see her again! I did not expect my little snow bunny to become a demon slayer. I was fighting the Flame Hashira and then I heard her voice.  "MASTER!" She screamed and I froze and there I saw (Name).  She is in the female demon Slayer uniform! She ran up to me and went to strike down on my neck. I was able to block her. She stood in front of me protecting the injured Rengoku.  "Stay there master!" She says. "I will deal with this demon!"  She was strong, but I refused to fight her, I kept blocking her blade and she was getting frustrated with me.  "FIGHT BACK! FIGHT BACK AKAZA!" She cries out and My eyes widen she remembers me. I grabbed her blade with my hand and shattered it before knocking her out. 

"(NAME)!" Her master screamed, but he could not move, his body was broken and batter.  I pick (Name) up and cradle her in my arms. "You are lucky, Rengoku, I have my snow bunny back in my arms," I tell him. "Her sacrifice will allow you to live another day." 

I then rush off to find a cave. Someplace to hide for us, so I do not get burned by the sun. I had my snow bunny back and I was not going to let her go again.  "I love you, (Name). I promise we will never be lonely again." I promise her. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins! 

The Next Part will be Upper Moon 4, Hantengu (I hope I spelled that right XD) and his emotion clones Hatred (age up), Anger, Sorrow, Joy, and Pleasure! 

Once again, stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins, BYE!]