#yandere overwatch 2

[yanderes-galore]

OW2

Romantic Yan!Ramattra with omnic!Darling concept

Sure! I love him as a character so I'll see what I can do for him! I apologize if the lore appears wrong, I tried to research what I could!

Yandere! Ramattra with Omnic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Manipulation, Revolution mention, Murder, Delusional behavior implied, Blood, Kidnapping, Forced conversion of beliefs, Death, Dubious/Forced relationship.

I feel an Omnic! Darling would be the one to gain Ramattra's attention the quickest.

A human darling would take longer so as an Omnic you'd be trusted much faster.

Ramattra's goal is to make life better for his people, he wants to save the Omnics from the abuse of their masters.

I feel you being an Omnic can go one of two ways.

You agree with Ramattra's beliefs and join his cause in Null Sector... or you don't agree and still think there can be peace between Omnics and humans.

Let's start with the first one.

Ramattra would be pleased that you agree with him and wish to join him.

I'd imagine you'd try to help Ramattra in any way you can, becoming closer and closer to the leader.

After all... you two most likely met after he saved you from being forced to do work in this variation of the story.

You feel like you owe him your life and listen to his words like a prayer.

Ramattra probably falls for you because you're so loyal towards his cause.

In his eyes, sharing a close connection to you is proof Omnics are more than robotic slaves.

Ramattra may try to make you see his romantic feelings.

He takes you aside and tries to influence romantic feelings in you, or see if it's possible.

You do feel like you appreciate and owe Ramattra but the idea of something like this makes you unsure.

However, your leader tries to convince you there's nothing to fear.

Embracing such feelings with each other will prove that you are more than machine.

Ramattra is a charismatic leader with a noble goal, he'd use this to his advantage to gain his darling's trust and affection.

Why do you seem so hesitant?

Do you not trust him to care for you?

He tries to reassure you he'll always care for you, that he thinks you're worthy of forming such a connection with him.

Romantic attraction between Omnics is probably rare, but there has been instances of platonic connections before.

Maybe you see him as a brother in arms or beliefs, while he wants to challenge that for something more.

You're free, you can choose your own life.

So why don't you choose a new life with him?

He's your savior, yeah?

If you don't believe in his cause it's similar but more violent.

Ramattra would think that you're simply blinded by your masters.

You just don't know what's best for you as an Omnic.

You may think you have human friends, ones who care about you.

They don't.

Ramattra thinks it's the right thing to do when he barges into where you reside.

He thinks it's fine to slaughter the lives of your human friends.

So what if their blood coats the ground and walls?

It's nothing compared to the slaughter of your own people.

Humans can make more of themselves, Omnics cannot.

Your place is not amongst them.

Your place is with your people, with Ramattra.

Due to the lies poured into your head, there may be so trauma from seeing your past life go.

Yet Ramattra will he there to guide you to a new life, hopefully with him.

Don't look at their corpses.

Just look at him.

In either scenario, Ramattra would try to coerce you to trust him enough.

This is so he can encourage you into sharing a deeper connection with him.

Truth is, Ramattra hasn't felt anything this intense and special towards anyone else.

He didn't think he could as a War Machine.

So don't fret... it's all new to him too.

Pay no mind to the crimes he commits for you and his people.

He wants to learn how to love you... he wants to know what it feels like for an Omnic to love another Omnic.

Reproduction is impossible between you, but he still wants the connection.

In either scenario you may refuse or fear the idea.

Yet Ramattra will be here to try and guide you like he always has.

His affection towards you is mimicry, ironically that of human affection.

He tries to express his adoration for you but it's like it's not meant to be.

You feel he'd ruined you, even if you did trust him before, perhaps you wish he didn't push this so hard on you.

Overall and Omnic Darling would be more possible when it comes to Ramattra's beliefs.

Instead of forcing you to be a pet or something of the sorts like a human darling... he tries to gently push you into his love.

Regardless on if you wish to reciprocate such feelings towards him or not...

Ramattra believes you were built for one another... and he'll make you see how he sees things in the end no matter the cost.

[shiroisotto64]

Realistic Mauga Hcs

I’ve head his voice lines on repeat and me and a few others have come to realize something….he’s like really close to yandere territory..and it’s kinda shocking. 💀

Sure before mauga forms an emotional connection he’s cool. Still a loose canon that doesn’t care about the lives he takes. Still blood thirsty but not obsessive.

Like let’s look at him and bap. Regardless if you think they were a thing or friends, mauga is very possessive! He’s been chasing him down and following him since he left talon. Hell, he even had his picture circled in red marker for sake!

So imagine you come around, you and mauga have pretty good chemistry and over time you grow attached to one another! Good. Right? 🧍🏽‍♀️ WRONG 🗣️ so very wrong at that. 😞

He likes and how you’re cooked. Prepare to have him all over you even before your an official item. Sure he would never get jealous I mean look at him. He knows how good he looks.

He’ll flex and show off. Be reckless just to have you patch him up. And if your the clingy type? Even better! He couldn’t care less. He’ll carry you around and stick besides you. You wanna go shopping? Sure let’s go right now, wanna go to the club? What without HIM? Not happening.

Not to mention how protective he’d be. Your so much smaller then him, he may not regard his safety or others but yours is taken seriously. And god forbid he catches someone hitting on you and making you feel uncomfortable.

All of a sudden they’re gone. A stalker? Nah, he’s the only one allowed to stalk you honestly. And that’s exactly what would happen if you tried to leave or run off without telling him.

He took the time to Learn all of your habits. He’s a good listener and when you first start off it’s cool that he loves learning about you, but when your in deep and want out? Kinda hard when he knows all your friends, family , favorite hangout spots. HE KNOWS IT ALL. 😭

He’d love marking his s/o to. Tones of hickeys, damn there EVERYTIME an old one fades he has to add at least one more. You wanna wear his bandana? Sure go ahead. In fact he’ll get matching ones. He’s the type to wear your rubber band around his wrist.

Basically? Mauga is really chill till your try to leave. ESPECIALLY after bap leaving? He can’t let another one of his buddies run off. You comply and behave and you have nothing to fear.

Cause sorry to break it to you? But running away from him is like super short lived. He’s relentless with his search and I don’t even wanna think about the punishment’s for having him go through the trouble. Worst part? He’s smiling the WHOLE time.

TAGS: @idciminlove @marituyoppa

[diejager]

A Fantasy

Pairing: YANDERE Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Cw: NSFW, DARK, non-con, dub-con, non-con drugging, somnophilia, creampie, possessiveness, obsessiveness, breeding, marking, blood, biting, Stockholm syndrome, tell me if I missed any.

Wc: 9.8k

(A/N): FYI, Tracer’s (Overwatch 2) the reader’s mentor.

Requested by : @oyasumimosura

What stood before you was a great field of devastation and ruin, burned and broken buildings that used to be warm homes, lively parks that were turned to ashes, trees and plants laid wasted around dilapidated cars with broken windows and bent metal. People, young and old, laid motionless on the scarred ground, burnt black or left intact in a pool of their blood. Some were holding hands, a family, friends, a couple. Others were alone, forgotten, and left to their sad deaths.

One minute you were rushing through a portal, behind your mentor and besides your teammates, the Cavalry, as she liked to say. Rushing through fights to protect humanity and omnics and its future. The mission was like the one yesterday, the preparation, the meeting, the briefing, and the deployment, but the fate of it changed. A portal malfunctioned, it sent you elsewhere, far away and lost. This wasn't your world, this wasn't your universe, but now, you were in someone else's universe, playing their game.

The clock had struck and time felt meaningless on the battlefield, the sounds of beating aircraft blades, the booming shot of guns and the shockwaves of grenades were all people could hear. Soldiers were the only ones left, fighting against the other side - the enemy, the traitors, the terrorists - until one came out victorious.

While purposeful, the deaths and ruin of this Occidental village were regretful, families shattered, memories lost, and homes destroyed. All you could do was run around, trying to find the source of those cries you heard. A little girl's, whose tears welled for the mother she lost in the tirade of war.

The longer you ran, the closer you got to her. The girl's purple shirt and jeans were dirtied with soot and ash, dark from what was left of her village. You blinked, fazing through time and space to get to her more quickly. Rounding broken walls and jumping over fallen debris, you left a blue trail behind you, blinking your way to the crying kid.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest when you got to her, recalling to your previous position with the girl, behind a brick wall. She clung to you, eyes red and swollen, lips bit red and her cheeks puffy. She looked like a seven-year-old child, alone, lost, and miserable without her parents or protection.

"Don't worry, love, " you used the words Tracer often used when she saved someone, her reassuring and calm voice. "I'm here."

Those zigzagging lines of light lingered in his mind, a shadow of a woman making her way through the abandoned town. The spring in her steps and the flexibility of her movements, jumping higher than any man should've been able to and changing directions so easily. She was fast, vanishing in a line of blue light and then appearing once more meters away.

Ghost saw her save a child, no older than an eight-year-old - or so he thought. A lone child on the battlefield was dangerous, a death wish for the kid if his enemies got to her first. Fortunately, the athletic woman got to the kid before anyone could, swiping her into her arms and disappearing in a blink. Seconds ago, she stood next to the pole, now all that was left was a blur of blue. She had disappeared as quickly as she appeared.

He picked at the memory constantly, powers, it seemed, were her thing, speed and agility of which no one should be able to wield, but she did and she used it to save a child. Although he admired that from a stranger, the question of her being a danger to them was still left unanswered. Whether she could be trusted or an unknown enemy that would tip the scales in the enemy's favour.

However, months later, after the war ended, there weren't any sightings of her, anywhere on earth, as if she had disappeared - again. He remembered her, though, the determined glint beneath blue goggles, her hair tied in a ponytail, flowing through the air, and her pretty lips.

She could still be in Europe, she probably was, or so he hoped. It would mean that he could run the chance of meeting her, to quench his gnawing curiosity. It would be difficult - near impossible - to find her in the millions living in Europe, but he would keep his eyes open, he had questions and he wanted answers.

He wasn't a believer per se, nor was he an atheist, he had a veto in what he put his trust and belief in. He wouldn't curse others for not believing in a God or gods, he wouldn't scoff at those who believed in them, and everyone had their rights. At this moment, however, the thought of God helping him had crossed his mind.

He had dared cross his limit, entering a small cafe - or a bistro, he wasn't sure - blocks from his flat. It was small and homely, the air was warm with the smell of coffee and tea and the place welcoming with the smiling faces of the cafe's workers.

He sat far into the shop, his back against the softness of the booth's couch, bored eyes observing his surrounding for any danger. Even off duty, the habits that ensured his safety still stuck to him, following him wherever he went.

The waitress, a young-looking woman, with striking eyes and hair pulled in a bun, walked his way. Her face looked familiar, lashes framing her pretty eyes, blushed cheeks and beautiful full lips. He knew those lips, and those eyes, and her build, short and athletic, but strong.

It was the child-saving vigilante he saw, only without her blue goggles and her tight bodysuit, blue and white that emphasized her muscles (it was probably made for usefulness, sticking to her body without any stray cloth when she ran, it made running faster and easier.). Wearing a chemise and black pants, instead of the standard skirt the other women wore, her shoes clicked as she approached him, hand pulling out a pad from her black apron's pocket.

He froze when her hand disappeared into her pocket, the items inside were unknown to him, and the content could be dangerous to him. He had to remind himself that she was a civilian at the moment, not an enemy vying for his head. She was safe, as long as she didn't attack him. He waited for her to speak, her pretty lips forming the words she wanted to tell him.

"Good morning, sir," her voice was melodic, soft and inviting. He craved hearing her speak to him with the soft lull of her tone. "Have you decided?"

Decided? What had she - you - meant by "decided"? Then he remembered he was in a cafe, people walked in to order food and drinks, to go or to eat there. He couldn't drift off like that, he couldn't disappear into the darkest depth of his mind. It was a dangerous place.

He cleared his throat, blonde lashes fluttering as he blinked, staring at your face. You were pretty. His words rumbled out, slightly muffled by his black mask: "No." He neither spoke more nor less, blunt as a hammer and sharp as a knife.

"Would you like more time to decide?" You were polite, smiling at him although his only spoken words were brash. He didn't want you to go yet, he just found you, heard and spoke to you,

"Anything you- uh... you recommend?"

You perked up at his question, seeing a more approachable change in him. Your smile widened, brighter than before as you listed off the menu by heart. Your optimism reminded him of Johnny's, expressively happy and grinning. The cafe - Ma's cafe, he learned from you - had its famously brewed tea latte, a mixture of earl grey and vanilla latte.

He took your recommendation, and you left with a skip, apron bouncing with each step. He watched you walk behind the counter, shuffling around with cups and the machine - he thought it was a coffee machine, those with pre-made coffee in its tank - meticulously, knowing well what he ordered.

You came back minutes later with a smoking mug filled with a milky brown liquid. It was fitting its name - London fog - with the white swirls that mimicked the fog that filled the cool, morning air until early evening when the sun started heating everything.

"Thank you...?" Ghost tried, wanting to know your name, you didn't have a tag on your apron.

You gave him your name with the smile you gave everyone, a customer service kind of smile that would assure that you wouldn't get any complaints about your service. He repeated your name a few times in his mind, memorizing every syllable and the way it sounded so well.

He wanted to repeat your name, whisper it lowly, but he had to make sure you were farther away from him, or you'd hear him obsessively call you. It rolled off his tongue amazingly, a perfect symphony with his deeper, raspy voice. He'll get to know you better, he planned on visiting more often, to learn your schedule and watch over you.

He pushed every intrusive thought back, bringing the mug to his lips (he had pulled down his mask to drink). It was sweet, slightly bitter from the coffee, but sweet nonetheless, perhaps a bit too sugary. He savoured the drink you made him, breathing the warm aroma of your mix. You'd made it, you had it, and served it. It was made for him, with your care and smile.

Ghost came by the next week, wearing the same black hoodie and dark jeans. He sat at the same booth and waited for you to walk by with the same smile as the prior week. You did, eyes wide with recognition when you caught him staring at you from the corner booth. You made your way to him with a grin, clad in a similar uniform and a serving tray under your arm.

"You came back," your calming voice reached his ears, giving him something to cling to in the cafe.

He liked habits, familiar things and usual occasions, but he hated the new and the unknown. They were dangerous, and deadly in his line of work. You expressed your gratitude at the tip he left you, way over the usual price other usual clients would.

"I never got your name."

He hadn't given you his name? That's right, he didn't for fear of people finding out his true identity, a broken man hidden under the mask of a monster - a Ghost. Trust issues stacked with insecurities and his introverted tendencies had made forming relationships much harder, making friends complicated with the backlash of his many blunt comments and irritated huffs, and letting people in from the fear of being betrayed, backstabbed, beaten and abandoned.

You were a vigilante, you saved a girl, you smiled at him and greeted him like you would a friend. You didn't shy away, nor freeze at the mere sight of him. You were new, but you were good - or so he thought you were. To him, you could be the achieved unachievable, a friend made from dust, a relationship formed from miracles and normalcy.

He blinked, mumbling lowly his name, low enough that it only reached your ears. You cocked your head downward, your smile widening as you repeated his name.

"Nice to see you again, Simon. I'm happy to see you again."

He nearly shuddered from hearing his name roll off your tongue, so melodically spoken. He wants to hear you call his name again and again and again, as many times as you could until he got sick of it (he probably wouldn't, he was already addicted to the way you spoke).

He dozed at your words, that you were glad he came back. He was glad too. He wanted to come by the day after his first visit, but it would seem too strange, perhaps dangerous to see him every day at the same spot, at the same time of day. He was a man of schedules, organized and neat planning.

He figured he would start by buying once a week for a month or two, then change it to twice a week for the following months, until seeing him every day would become the norm for you. He would kickstart the routine and make it a usual appearance in your life. He would make *him* a usual appearance in your life.

"Same as last time, Simon?"

God, he loved hearing you say his name. He simply nodded, he would make it his usual, a hut sweet, but enough to drown the bitterness in his soul.

The leaves turned darker, shrivelling and dropping dead to the ground. The mellow sky grew gloomy, and colder with each passing day until it dropped so low that Ghost had to wear a thicker jacket over his usual hoodie. Autumn was at an end and winter crawled ever so closer.

He was back from deployment, on a temporary leave to "relax and diffuse" as Laswell said. Everyone was back home, Price with his cigar and Nik, Gaz back home with his girlfriend, Soap with his rowdy family of seven and Roach went home to open arms and warm welcomes from his parents.

Ghost only had an empty apartment - or he used to, he moved to a house on the quieter side of town - and the cute, dazzling waitress that served at Ma's cafe. That's where he was going, he texted you before he left, letting you know that he was back and ready for a hot cup of London fog and brunch.

You read his message, replying with a "Copy that, Lieutenant". It became a running joke between you after he told you about his work, nothing classified or too detailed, but enough to let you know he was built to fight and survive.

The bell rang when he pushed the door, seeing you peer out of the kitchen once he stepped in. He was hit with a warm embrace, the cafe's heater worked well, warming the place and making it cozy enough to eat with only a t-shirt on. He gave you a nod, finding his way to his usual spot, the one he sat at for the past months.

How many months have passed since he first stumbled here? He couldn't remember everything became a blur when it was associated with you. His moments with you were warmer and calmer than at the start. You opened up to him, walls crumbling down and letting yourself build something out of it: a friendship with Ghost.

He liked being friends - for now. He had plans to make a move, to push farther, into unknown territory and try his luck. He had a feeling you'd say yes, he loved you so much and you showered him with adoration and smiles, you had to be in love with him, no? Of course, you were, he wasn't delusional, he was of sound mind, careful.

"Welcome back, Simon," you strut to him so casually, the same clothes, the same smile. "How was your deployment? Soap and Roach got into any trouble?"

He spoke fondly of his TF, they were his family, and he felt proud when he talked about them to you. He invited them once, and they all loved you as much as he did, you were sociable and easy to talk to. Though Price and Soap had the biggest effect on you, they reminded you of someone. You told him about your friends, chaotic like his TF, but a family. It sounded like an ops team, he wouldn't be surprised. He remembered the first time he saw you, it was still fresh in his memory.

"Soap stirred up some shite again," Ghost huffed, sloshing his shoulders to appear more relaxed in your presence, to make him seem less threatening than he was. "No casualties, everyone made it out fine. Bit bruised but alive."

"That's the main objective, no?" You chuckled at Ghost's indignified groans about Soap and Roach behaving like children high on sugar.

You stuck around longer now, gracing him with a bit of random chatter. He got to know about your days, your activities, your wishful thinking and your goals. He discovered something new every day, whether it came from your lips or from his own time.

You stood by his table until the chef rang the call bell. You winked charmingly and turned to get his order, he hadn't ordered yet, but he came by so often, ordering the same that the employees knew what to make when he walked through the door.

He liked the normalcy, where he came by once every two days when he was on leave. If the Task Force was sent on a mission, he could be gone a few days, a few weeks or a month. It always varied, but he made it work with his hate of the unknown, the unpredictable.

"Are you free tonight, love?" Ghost asked, eyes gazing from your hands to your lips.

He found that open-mouthed expression at his question. You seemed hesitant to answer him, thinking about your reply to the man who tipped you well and was as close as a friend to you; or perhaps you were simply shocked that he finally asked you out, and wondering if you had time for him.

You nodded, a smug smile replacing your shock: "How 'bout eight? I finish at seven tonight."

" 'S fine, eight at the bar down the street?"

"It's a date then."

His heart almost broke his ribs, beating wildly against its cage when the word "date" left your lips. He had a date with you tonight, he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps you meant as a date between friends than one between lovers, but at that moment, all he could think was how your hands would feel between his, how your soft, plump lips would feel over his and how your body would feel against his, below and over him.

He dove into his delusional mind, imagines and dreams swimming freely, jumping from one to the other. He had dreams for once, a wish that he hoped you'd indulge, and a family he wanted but lost.

Everything seemed to go the way he planned, you waved at him when you saw him waiting outside the bar and giddily joined him. He found a quiet and mellow corner at the bar, a table pushed against the wall with two stools.

The bartenders knew him, he drank here with the others, and they didn't bother him and served and usual. Some were surprised he brought a friend - a woman - with him but left him to his own.

You sat down and downed a few beers while he drank his bourbon. You spoke sporadically, hands waving enthusiastically with every word. Your cheeks were flushed, slightly pink and warm from the alcohol, but you were lively, animated and happy.

It made him happy, seeing you so mirthful around him, being able to let loose from your stricter atmosphere at Ma's cafe. Your tense shoulders were looser, your back relaxed from its ramrod-straight position and your voice felt more invigorated. The alcohol might've played a part, running through your system and making you bolder.

The first time always played well, just as he imagined, and the thing that solidified everything was your parting words: "Next time's on me, Simon!"

You drank together every week, from friends to drinking buddies, there was nothing more intimate than that, to trust someone with your drunk self and your loose tongue, spewing words and thoughts the second they crossed your mind.

That boosted his confidence, the feeling that he could confess, and tell you his deepest and darkest thoughts and wants. You'd know what kind of man he was, broken and messily put together, like a DIY project made by a child gone wrong. He had sharp edges and missing pieces, a cracked personality and dangerous thoughts. He was a SAS soldier after all, once you become one, you see some twisted shit.

Like the week before, you walked out together, your legs shaky but still able to walk home, accompanied by Ghost. He helped you to your apartment, his broad shadow looming over the door, silent as always. When your shaky hands were able to unlock the door, turning the knob and opening the door, you turned around to bid your drinking buddy good night.

Lips parting to say the words, until he cut you off, his chapped lips met yours. His gloved hands caressed your cheek, thumb rubbing under your wide eyes as he held you in place. His lips were warm and plump, but chapped, a scar running over it.

His eyes were closed, lips on you for a few seconds longer until he pulled away, a dazed look in his eyes. While he expected a reaction from you, he hadn't envisioned shock and sadness, one that made his gut plummet. He winced at your expression, unable to understand what he did wrong. He thought you loved him.

"I- Simon, I- I can't, I'm sorry," you hushed out sadly, head turned down to stare at your feet. You were unwilling to gaze into his disappointed - probably heartbroken - eyes.

"Why?" He rasped, voice hoarse as if he hid cried for hours, or was on the brink of tearing up.

"I just can't, Simon," you persisted, feeling much more sober than the last few minutes. His surprise had severed you up - willingly or unwillingly. "I don't mind staying friends, but I can't get too attached. I won't be here much longer."

" 'Cause you're not from here?" He scoffed, but it didn't hold any resentment or irritation, simply sorrow and distress. " 'Cause you're from another world?"

You whipped your head to stare at him, your mouth agape and fearful shock glazed over your eyes. How could he have possibly known? While your identity was fabricated work, you know how to make a believable fake ID, Genji's knowledge helped you. You stepped back, hand reaching for your door knob, unsure of what Simon would do to you now that the secret was out.

He turned and ambled out, shoulders slumped slightly without a word to you. His world shattered once again, God seemed hellbent on making his life a misery.

He stopped coming after your "altercation", you felt horrible, but you couldn't let your heart run wild when you know Winston would find a way to fix the portal in a year or two. One had already passed and you couldn't overindulge in this world's pleasures and leave when you got too attached.

Yet, grief at being relieved that he never appeared again clawed at you, he knew you weren't from his world. It was dangerous information, especially in bad hands, but you couldn't do anything about it. This world had different rules and standards, it worked differently and you weren't book-smart like Winston or Torb. You were a simple agent working under Tracer.

You did, however, regret letting Simon leave so abruptly, he was an amazing friend, the perfect drinking buddy and would probably be a caring lover, but couldn't risk it. Even if you wanted to text him, and apologize over and over until Simon would talk to you again, you knew how to respect people's boundaries. If he left so coldly, never passing by, texting or calling told you enough. He needed time to calm down and clear his mind.

You went back and forth between your home and the cafe every night, your original routine - before meeting Simon - felt alien to you. You'd been so used to seeing Simon at the back of the shop, a hot London fog in his hands and crepes on his plate with melting butter. It was foreign to see the spot occupied by another client, or the cold spot in your chest when it was vacant.

You disliked it. You hated it. The cold, the silence, you wanted to see him at least once.

Can we meet? Usual place. was the sudden text you received from Simon during your shift. It was dated today at 5:39.

Without a second thought, you replied, affirming the date and time, tonight, right after your shift on Friday. A weight was lifted from your shoulder, the silence from Simon was broken and he finally reached out to you. Your break to let him calm down had worked it seemed, the let him cool down and clear his mind.

It was late by the time you got to the pub, around nine. You had returned home and fixed up your depressed look for a more lively one, hoping it would make Simon feel better. You caught him at your usual place, head hung low and demeanour shut off from the world around him. You took hesitant steps towards him, he didn't look exactly sober from the number of cups decorating the table, nor did he look drunk, from his sharp, hooded eyes.

"Simon, " you greeted him slowly, nearly flinching when his brown eyes washed over your smaller figure. Chills erupted through the ends of your nerves, fingers twitching at the sudden burst of danger you felt from your friend. You had no reason to be scared, wary of his demeanour, but not scared or hateful. He'd yet to act out violently or malevolently.

He gave a curt nod, emotions bleeding through his eyes. He was a stoic man, but his eyes were extremely emotional, pain, regret, grief, hate and joy were some you'd seen flash in those pretty brown of his.

He had a whole bottle ordered in advance, the cap still tightly screwed onto the bottle's neck. He poured you a cup, of rum straight out of the bottle without ice or any accessories.

Thanking him, you sipped on your drink it felt hot and heady on your tongue, it burned your throat. You hadn't drank since you'd last seen Simon, weeks ago, and you could see - feel - its effect. You coughed slightly but still downed the rest.

"You wanted to see me?" Your question left an odd sensation on your tongue. He hadn't spoken a word since you walked in, always the brooding, silent menace. He stared, fixated on you or something on you, it was perturbed you.

"I wanted to apologize, love."

You missed that low hum in his voice, and the caring way he said you "love". You'd been used to it since most British you knew always called someone they cared for "love" or "dear", loving terms of endearment used publicly. Now, however, you knew it weighted, an undertone to its meaning, a special significance in his heart.

"Didn't mean to jump you like that," he continued, regret painting his rough tone. "It felt right; to me. Guess I was more plastered than I thought."

He was human and alcohol coursed through his system. It made him bold and erratic, he acted out without a second thought. You could forgive him for the influence his bourbon had on him; you were going to forgive him anyway.

Although you felt better with his apology, forgiveness for his sudden move wasn't what you prioritized. You wanted answers. How did he know? Was it a sudden, incomprehensible blurb that he spat in a spike of hate and pain? Or was it conscience wording from his drunk mind?

"Do you remember that night?" You lost your smile, pursed lips and hardened eyes at your questioning - interrogation of him.

"'Course I do."

"Do you remember what you said? About me coming from somewhere else."

He nodded, eyes levelled to stare straight at you, unwilling to hide or lie, he spoke honestly, "Another world, love. Didn't forget."

"How'd you know? I'm not exactly showcasing it to everyone in bright colours. So how?"

"Saw you save that girl, lil babe crying for her mother," his answer was slow and purposeful, giving you what you wanted to hear. He recalled the event that occurred months prior, everything aligned with your own experience. "We don't - can't - have shite like that, too developed and powerful. Nothin' like that's possible in this era. So I figured you weren't from here. "

His reasoning made sense, his wording was careful, and it seemed like he had time to think about it. The time you gave him had helped. You kept your doubts to yourself, questions you had that he probably didn't have the answer to. A way back; a way home; an escape. All things he had no answer to.

So your shoulders relaxed and asked Simon to pour you a second cup, to which he obliged. You drank and smiled, back to the trying times when you just started drinking with him, the unknown and the awkwardness that lingered in the air stung.

You don't remember how many cups you had, or how many bottles you finished. Did you even finish the first one? Did you get halfway through before your vision started blurring and your mind dazed into mumbles of incoherent words? Simon hadn't touched another cup since the world around you blurred, the corners of your eyes turning black and your movement slowed to a slur.

He paid for the drink on his tab, slinging your arm over his shoulder, hand holding your waist as he walked out. You were drunk out of your mind, but something felt different, you don't remember being this inebriated the last time you drank half a bottle of rum. Was there something else in it?

Simon dropped you in the back, buckling you in before he made sure you sat upright. He was close, his neck bare and sweaty, his musk smelled strong and heavy, smoke and gunpowder weighing at the back of your throat. Although your vision was faulty, you could see the tight muscle of his neck and shoulder tense as he worked.

His scent stuck to you as he closed the door and drove home, the air in the car smelling like him. Whatever had drained you, lulled you to sleep, taking comfort in the familiar warmth even if a small part of you started panicking.

He had you, in the basement of his house, soundproof and padlocked from the outside. Any risk was accounted for and any escape plans were foiled prematurely by his quick mind.

Ghost laid you beneath him, on the soft, plush bed he bought and built for you, queen-sized for the times he'd spend cuddling you. He had you splayed, body limp and limbs pliant to his every desire. He admired your sleeping form, how your lace fluttered lightly and your lips perked, thinking on the corners as if you were wincing - a duck face - and your peaceful expression. You were adorable.

Your shirt came off first, pulled over your head and thrown over his shoulders, then your bra. Without his gloves, your skin felt soft, hot to the touch. Kneading your breasts, he held one in each hand and felt the fat. You twitched and mewled faintly when he pinched your nipples, hardened by the cooler air hitting your drunk-induced heat. He kissed them, lips closing around your nipple and sucking loudly. He gave each one the same amount of attention, pulling off with a wet pop.

His fingers trailed the lines of your abdomen, strong and athletic, but not too burly like anyone in the army. He admired your figure, half-naked and unconscious on his bed, in his home. He kissed down your stomach as he took your pants off, sliding leg after leg out, leaving you only in your panties.

You were beautiful: your skin - soft, your hair - silken, your lips - wonderful to kiss, and your eyes - gems. You were breathtaking to look at, a treasure to his eyes solely. You were an unblemished canvas, unmarked by other men - in his mind - by sin, and your scars were trophies, won through difficult times. He wanted to be the one painting you, displaying you prettily for his eyes alone. Pieces of works were kept secret like Michelangelo's love poems and sketches.

His eyes wandered the expanse of your body, groaning when he saw the wet patch, your body had reacted to his caresses, your arousal turning the spot over your cunt darker, wet. He pushed his nose to it, breathing in the tangy musk. His fingers hooked under the string and ripped it off with a harsh tug. You wouldn't need underwear anymore once he was done with you.

Ghost's pupils dilated, wide, blown eyes as it keyed on your slick cunt. He adjusted your legs, moving them over his shoulders to have better access to you. He gave a testing lap, running the flat of his tongue over your rim, prodding your clenching opening and leaving at your pulsating clit.

You tasted delicious, he growled and dove back. Tongue circling your button, sucking loudly, lifting the protective hood to let it swell and throb. He held your hips tightly ad you squirmed and moaned, but you never awoke. The drug he gave you was potent, tested on bigger, stronger military men. It could knock them out, so it would pull a stronger reaction from you.

It weighed on his mind, that he resolved to drugging you and bringing you home to be able to show you just how much he loved you. He'd preferred if you were awake, he wanted your first time together to be wonderful - fantastic - in all ways, but you would've protested, fought him and left him once more. He couldn't risk losing you completely, it hurt.

He had no other choice and felt guilty, but he couldn't let his mind wander when he had you under him, ripe for the taking. He pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on you, his needy girl.

His tongue returned between your leg, cheek nuzzling into your sweating thighs. He alternated between sucking your button, lips enclosing around it, and dipping his tongue into you, groaning anomalistically at your tensing walls. He pushed his forefinger in, joining his ravenous tongue. His nose bumped your clit, jerking you each time.

A second finger joined the first and his tongue left to give attention to your neglected clit, pumping to the third knuckles and curling upwards. You arched off the bed, hips buckling into his open mouth as he stretched you open with a third finger. The sound was lewd and wet, loud in his ears.

His cock twitched, straining against his pants, the fabric tight and inflexible, nearly painful. He wanted to relieve the tightness, that burning ache deep in his guts, but his needs came second to yours.

He flickered his tongue and pushed his fingers deeper, curling and panting against you. You spasmed, legs closing around his head, squeezing him as you came. His fingers eased out slowly to savour the taste of your arousal, mouth covering your fluttering hole and slurping the slick that drizzled down your ass.

He loved how you tasted, sweet and salty, like a healthy, ripe fruit ready to be bitten into, juicy and perfect. He almost lost himself, dazed by your essence and his anguish; if only you'd accepted him early, you would've been awake and conscious of this act, and you'd be able to love and embrace him as he did to you. He wouldn't have to wait so long, in pain and regret, for not wooing you enough. He wouldn't have to feel so guilty.

Snapping from his hazed thinking, he lowered your legs and climbed off the bed to undress. He peeled his hoodie and shirt, which stuck to his skin by sweat, and he dropped his pants once he unbuckled his belt. His cock bobbed, slapping wetly against his navel before it hung heavily between his legs, the head achingly red and swollen. His balls felt heavy, and tight from all the neglect. They were big and full, ready to pump his seed into you.

He cradled you, pulling your legs over his elbows and slotting his hips to yours, his cock over your slit. He moved his hips, slicking his shaft with your juices, groaning at the wet warmth under him. When it felt slick enough, he dipped the tip in, your labia stretching to swallow his uncut head. The sound was downright filthy in his ears, the squelch and your strained moans.

He watched himself inch deeper, sinking into your depths with unrelenting hunger, panting and growling until he bottomed out, his balls sitting snug against your ass. His bulbous tip kissed your cervix, nudging it as he rolled his hips, testing how deep he could reach and how strong he could fuck.

He slowly pulled out, hearing the wet noise of his cock slipping out to the tip, and slammed in, his balls slapping the roundness of your ass. He rocked wildly, groaning each time he bottomed out, feeling the heat of your walls clench around him like a vice. Your spasming walls wrenched low moans from him, as often as you whimpered and mewled.

"Fuck- you feel so fuckin' good-" he pushed out through his clenched teeth, his cock twitching when you tightened around him.

Your legs shook, your back arching slightly and your voice keening loudly. He covered your body with his, lips meeting yours in a hungry and possessive kiss, tongue diving into your mouth and committing it to memory. His hand found your clit, thumb rubbing your sensitive nub, urging you towards your end.

Keening, you came, gripping him with a vice. He grunted, his pace becoming sloppy as he chased his peak after yours, breathing in your neck with dazed, hooded eyes. He swore, thrusting as deep as he could and came, his seed rushing to fill you.

"Fuck- fuck-" he gasped, rocking a few times into you, riding off his edge until he calmed down.

White globs leaked from your stuffed cunt, rolling down your ass and leaving a trail. His chest rumbled happily, bending down to kiss you slowly, soft and adoring compared to the last. He slid out when he softened, his cum oozing out of your gaping heat, the plug keeping everything in left.

He loved watching you full, oozing of him, asleep and satiated in the bed he bought for you. You were both coated in sweat and cum, hair sticking to your glistening skin. Your dishevelled and panting aroused him, his soft cock jerking upwards, hardening moments after he just came.

"We're not done yet, love."

You felt heavy and warm, a heat - a body - held you tightly, fingers carding through your hair and caressing your back. It smelled like sweat and smoke, a familiar musk. You opened your eyes, seeing a pale, burly chest, Simon's naked chest. You froze, body tensing, shoulders squaring and arms ready to push him back.

"Morning, love," his voice was raspy with sleep, deep and calm as he greeted you, his lips meeting your hairline. "Slept well?"

You frowned, legs moving, jutting out from between his knees as you struggled to free yourself. Your body felt sore, the peak of your discomfort coming from your heat, a pulsating and warm pain. You feared the worst.

When you looked down, you were covered by only a shirt, a big, dark grey t-shirt that smelled like Simon, it reached your knees. You winced, seeing your nakedness and Simon's pants hanging low on his hips, flashing the sharp dip of his navel and his sculpted torso. It left little to imagine, the red blemishes on your neck and shoulders, slightly faded from his careful handling and bruises the size of his fingers around your thighs.

"You-" you coughed before you could day anymore, throat dry and scratchy, alcohol dehydrated people faster.

"Drink," he held you up, back to his chest, arms slipping around you too comfortably to hand you a cup of water, cool and fresh.

He had expected this, he wasn't as delusional as he first seemed, and he was prepared. You took it, gulping it down carefully, counting the seconds - minutes - that would pass until the drug kicked in, if he had diluted any in your water.

He hummed happily, his chest vibrating as he wrapped his arms around you, nosing the collar of your neck, he placed fluttering kisses on your open shoulder. The collar of his shirt slipped from one side, exposing your skin. His teeth grazed you, teasingly nipping you with warm puffs of air.

You gulped, gathering whatever wits you still had after this whole kidnapping situation. Your mind was running miles per second, eyes gleamed over with tensions and tiredness, and your body sore from Simon's perverse affection.

"Where am I?" your voice was small, still raspy from - what you assumed - moaning and mewling.

"Home," he mumbled, latching onto your skin and sucking a dark spot.

Home? It neither meant your flat nor safety. It was *his* home, a prison he built for you. You looked around. You thought it better to get to know the place he decided to keep you captive, to learn and discover its secrets, anything you could use against or for you.

It was like a studio apartment, everything was open apart from the bathroom, it had a small kitchenette with a fridge (probably in case he left for a while, deployed in another country while he kept you here.), a bookshelf filled to the brim with books and a desk pushed to the side. He'd forgone leaving you with a television, a mobile device, a phone or a computer, all were risks of you getting out.

The walls were painted over, bare of windows and stairs lead to a door, locked from both sides. He locked you in his basement, beneath his house and every other neighbour's nose. No one would come to your rescue if you screamed. No one would hear your cries of anguish or your pleas for freedom.

He bit down, teeth pressing onto your skin, denting the scarred flesh with his teeth marks. You yelped, the area hot and painful, his strength leaving an almost skin-deep bleeding, fiery and red. It was irritated and swelled in seconds. He moved from one patch to the other, determined to mark up your shoulder before possibly moving on to the next one.

You squirmed on his lap, trying to free yourself from his restrictive hold. You gripped his hands, digging your blunt nails into his forearms. He scoffed, nuzzling the bites he made, tongue lapping at the bleeding lines.

"Ghost," you gasped, legs kicking and body struggling.

Clicking followed every kick, the distinct sound of metal rattling in a disorderly way. You looked down your leg, catching the cuff around your right ankle, a long chain kept you jailed in the basement. It was long and winding, enough to comfortably walk laps around your new accommodation but too short to reach the door.

You stared at it incredulously, the utter rage and disgust that burned in your gut that he planned to keep you as if you were a glorified pet or some sort of prize he scouted and obtained.

You knew he liked you before, it was a simple and innocent crush, like finding your first one and not knowing how to react. That, and the fact he was a soldier, scarred by time and marked by warfare made him so standoffish. You thought it was simple, but now, it was too late to forget, to not look, to let bygones be bygones.

He was obsessed, not necessarily sane, but not crazy either. He wasn't delusional, by everything he set up as a precaution, but he let his darkness fester, grow and crack the surface of his calm and stoic persona. He was still calm and meticulous, but it was a different kind, storming ideas for your imprisonment and wishes he wanted to make true. Ghost and Simon overlapped, neither good nor evil, he was simply letting the monster rage uncontrolled.

His pent-up emotions drove him to the edge, and your rejection pushed him over, tipping the scale of his sanity. That's how you ended up in your current situation, his hands wandering over your thighs, dipping between them and down to your knees. He still nipped at your skin, biting and pulling the collar down the other shoulder. His teeth sunk into the muscle between your neck and shoulder, warm fingers slipping under his shirt to knead your chest.

You winced, flinching when he plucked your nipples, pulling on them until you let out a pained whine.

"Stop-!" your hands followed his, clamping around his wrists and dragging him out, but he stayed firm, unmoving to your will as he twirled your mounds. "Fucking stop!"

He huffed, hands dropping to your lap. He mumbled into your bitten skin, groaning in complaints about not letting him care for you. His complaints came with hot breaths on your nape, mouthing the back, turning silent and unmoving.

His quietness was familiar to you, his penchant for sifting through his thoughts in utter silence. Then he moved, draping the covers over your body, tucking you in. He stood at your bedside, expression lighting in a gentle smile. Under the dim lighting of the room, he looked like a beautiful angel. A gold halo hovered over his blonde locks, framing his pale skin and warm, brown eyes.

He kissed your forehead, lips lingering a few seconds longer as he took in the calming moment. He had you, he had you in his home.

"How about breakfast? Fried eggs and bangers, how's that sound?"

The normalcy of eating breakfast in bed, to wake up and be greeted with a British breakfast made by Simon. He liked the idea of such normality, it was romantic, domestic even. To be able to cook for you and serve you the food he made, he'd eat at the table in the middle of the room, seated opposite from you.

He left before you could give him a piece of your mind, or your reply to his question. Fried eggs, you knew what that was, but *bangers*, what the fuck was that?

The stairs creaked lightly, bending under Simon's weight, but his steps were silent - dangerous. The lock clicked when it was unlocked, and he left you alone, the door locking behind him. Gone was your escape, gone was your freedom, gone was your life with the door locking before you.

Time seemed endless, it went by in a blink or in long, painful moments that left you angry. He hadn't given you a clock, and without anything technological (the microwave didn't have the time, whatever Simon had done, worked. Time never played on the four-letter screen.), you couldn't tell day from night, seconds from minutes and minutes from hours. Time dragged agonizingly slowly, the only clue was Simon kept a pattern: three meals a day, breakfast, dinner and supper before going to bed with his arms wrapped around you.

How long you've stayed here was unknown. You couldn't know and Simon didn't want to tell you. He changed subjects or glared at you until you dropped it or he decided to drop it. You had no link to the outside, no way of knowing if you'd been announced missing or if anyone was worried. Simon had cut all your connections to the world around you, just outside your reach, on the other side of these walls that confined you.

You desperately needed to know about your case, if they knew, if they filed a missing person report if they were searching for you. It pained you to be ignorant of everything but your small world, the things that happened in your small room. Everything you knew was Simon.

His horribly, soothing words in his deep voice, speaking into your ear or your hair, whispering his dreams and his hopes, his love and his adoration. His wandering hands, raking the tension from your shoulders, the knots in your back, your worry from your eyes and lips, and the pleasure - forced - he brought upon you.

Entertainment was brought through him, or through the books he left for you, most were erudite, both old and new novels. Bram Stoker's Dracula, The Silence of the Lambs and The Heart of Darkness were a few of the novels you'd caught on the bookshelf.

He also fed you. Most days, he'd stay until it was time to eat, he would leave - sometimes half an hour or a whole hour, it ranged between depending on the meal - and come back with warm plates. They always smelled good and they tasted better.

It surprised you how skilled he was in cocking, as he was in infiltration, sniping, abducting and killing. Perhaps he took the time apart from you to forge his plan, to learn to cook and to care.

You ate, slowly and contemplatively. He stared at you eat, always making sure you took the first bites before digging into his own plate. It weighed heavy in your gut, like a reluctant gift you were bestowed, and Simon made sure you ate everything.

You felt dazed, gone, after eating, as if a cloud washed over your mind that made you slower, and sluggish with everything you did. The food was drugged, you were aware of that when you first felt lethargic. It made you less testy, less bratty as Simon grumbled, you were more pliant to his whims and easier to move when you tried fighting him.

Though it eased the nausea that wracked your body in the mornings, the sudden discomfort in your abdomen and the heaviness that the ache gave. You rarely needed to move from the bed if the urge to vomit came up, Simon kept pills for that. If you did, he'd comfort you, holding your hair back as the content of your stomach surged upwards.

Your time spent with Simon was time spent organizing your thoughts, Winston was smart, engineering-wise, he was amazing. Then there was Mercy with her medical breakthrough and Torb with his ingeniously brilliant machines. If they came together, found what went wrong with the portal you went through.

Trace would be so worried if she wasn't already dead worried. She was a caring and responsible mentor, taking you in before and after the fall of Overwatch. Nearly twelve years under her and this was the first mishap. You spent nearly two years in Simon's world - you counted the time your could count, the days you spent working and enjoying life as much as you could in a different place - and your heart never stopped missing your family.

You missed Jack - Soldier: 76 - when he would openly laugh, and Gabriel, when he was still the man he was. You missed Tracer's fussing, blinking around with so much energy, and Reinhardt's proud standard when he loomed over his teammates with his Barrier Field. You missed them horribly, they were the glue that kept you hoping for freedom.

It happened when you nearly conceded to Simon's whims, bending to his will and words, letting his hands wander your body and feeling pleasure - genuine. His confessions were parroted, and his I love youwas returned.

You ate less, however, the lump in your gut grew by the days, weighing heavier and heavier. You had weird cravings, followed by nausea most mornings, gripping the toilet bowl with your head hung low. Simon held your hair back and rubbed soothing circles on your back, bemoaning about your pains and cramps.

He left a few times during your period of captivity, vanishing for long periods - usually a week or two - and had you manage everything on your own. He had cameras set up, watching your every move, connected to whatever device he decided to watch you.

He was deployed a week ago, his steps never walking to the door during the week, but now, you could hear his booming steps around the house. They were loud and intentional. Dread always filled your body when you learned he came back, he was clingy, handsy and obsessive when he came back, growling that he would burn down the world if couldn't have you; or that he was thinking about you - constantly - and that the video feed on his phone was never enough.

You picked up on his pace, hurried and panicked. They stomped around the house in search of something before it stopped at your door. Your ears perked on the clicking of the lock, straining to listen to his heaving breaths.

Crack

You jerked forward. Something behind you cracked, the loud cracking filled the air as you turned. A blue swirl cracked the shift in reality, like glass fracturing and breaking into pieces, it glowed with every line. It pulsed calmly, the swirls capturing your attention. You felt drawn to it, your hands twitching with the urge to touch it, to let your fingers swim in the infinite pool.

"(Name), are you there?" a voice called from the other side, small and feminine. It was dripping with worry and exhaustion. "Luv, are you there?" she cried a second time, a hand emerging from the portal.

You knew the voice, the warm, familiar voice that called out to you with love and compassion. A friend. A mentor. A family.

You reached out to it, hand inches from hers. Then the door to your cage burst open, his screams echoing in the basement. He hurried down the stairs as fast as he could, mask still on his face as he reached for you. His gloved fingers grasped the air for you, rushing towards you with immense worry and fear in his eyes.

Mere seconds behind you, his fingers grazed your back as you fell into the waiting arms of your mentor. He was too late, he fell on the vacant bed, watching the portal close behind you. He clutched the bending, the place you sat moments ago. It was still warm, your heat and smell still mixed into your sheets.

He spun lies about your absence, about your sudden disappearance from his world. You moved away after your breakup, you distanced yourself from him to make the move easier on your heart and his. The TF had accepted the excuse, solemnly nodding about your leave and wishing they could have said farewell to a good friend.

They moved on with life, still smiling nostalgically when you were brought up, but Ghost was left heartbroken. He knew something was wrong that day, the itch in his brain about something happening at home. That's why he was in such a hurry, in a panicked frenzy to get home - to get to you. He was too late though, seeing you being pulled into a portal. Dooming was the effect on him; devastation was the pain in his heart; shattering was the sorrow of his soul.

He poured everything into keeping you, only to lose you. Now, he poured every second of his life into work, never letting his mind wander to the bump on your stomach or the subtle relinquishment in your actions to him.

He was deader than dead, colder and more stoic than before. They saw the change, they understood, but never blamed you. Everyone had fallouts, Simon just had more than the rest of the world. That's why he played Ghost more often than before, building his walls higher and his appearance darker.

Yet somehow, Soap was enthusiastic enough to rope him into playing games on his console (he used to play more before finding time between deployments to jump into a match with the others). Overwatch 2, an evolution of the first made better. Soap promised it was good. His spiel about the characters having a profound background and the gameplay being fun. Ghost was doubtful, he and Soap didn't have the same definition of fun, they were associated with different things.

He liked Soap, though, so he humoured his sergeant. He downloaded it on his console, watching the white line charge until it became playable. Soap had mentioned a few names: Genji, Sombra, Reaper and Zenyatta, he even joked about Reaper resembling him, the skull mask and the dark drapes. He'd also gushed - like an over-enthusiastic gamer - about a new character, a woman, the sole student of this Tracer.

He scoured through the lists of players, eyes skimming over the faces before he spotted a familiar one. It was more cartoonish, drawn in gentle lines and beautiful shades. Your face, it was your beautiful face. He nearly dropped his controller, hands shaking and body heavy.

Was it guilt that washed over him? Was it pain that washed over him? Was it sorrow and melancholy that washed over him? Or was it his world that came crashing down on his shoulders?

The world dulled, his breath became stagnant and shallow as he stared at your hero. You were standing proud and fearless, guns held in your hands with a bright smile. He watched you emote, your character moving as it was coded. He scrolled through your skills and perks, some he remembered you use. You blinked and recalled, moving back and forth between time and space, breaking the fragile shift in the world.

Soap was right about the new hero, you were interesting and lovely. In a flurry of emotions, he opened up your biography - or a snippet of your backstory. Every word bled his heart, every act and every situation wracked his body with sadness. The more he read, the more his tears threatened to fall.

You kept your - his - child, a beautiful kid with his blonde hair and your eyes, a round, yet sharper face like his. You kept him, you hadn't aborted the child. You gave birth and he wasn't there. You took care of your kid and he wasn't there. You watched him grow and he wasn't there.

He cried, body closing on itself. His shoulders shook, his vision blurred and his face streaked with tears. A broken sob broke through his throat, restricted and pained with waves of emotion, deep and harrowing sadness of his loss.

"I miss you, love," he rasped, his fingers gripping his hair, nearly ripping out the seams. "I miss you."

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 13 (Somnophilia)

Reinhardt x Reader

In the middle of the night, Reinhardt couldn't sleep. His mind kept wandering to thoughts of you, the newest recruit. There was something about you that made him infatuated...maybe even obsessed. He sated his desire with passing looks and touches, but Reinhardt wanted more. It wasn't long before he started to pay more attention to the things you like or do.

You like to spar with Cassidy and go get a coffee afterward. You like the color (f/c) on your gear and like to go onto the roof at night to relax. He knew all this and made sure to figure out more. He followed you around and made note of your every action.

He figured out you took sleeping pills to deal with your insomnia.

Reinhardt couldn't take it anymore. He slipped out of his quarters and made his way silently down the hallway to where he knew you slept.

As he approached your door, he paused for a moment to gather his courage. This would definitely be crossing a line. The others wouldn't understand, but he knew you would. There's no going back after this if anyone finds out. But he didn't care. Reinhardt wanted nothing more than to feel you, love you, cherish you. And he knew you loved him back.

You just didn't know it yet.

Steeling his mind against any rational, sane thought, Reinhardt quietly slid the lock open and stepped inside. The dim light from the corridor barely reached across the room, casting most of it into darkness save for a small pool of moonlight filtering through your window onto your sleeping form. He glanced at your nightstand and saw an empty glass and a prescription pill bottle. He closed the door behind him.

Reinhardt slowly walked over to your bedside, his gaze tracing every contour of your relaxed features. He couldn't resist reaching out a tentative hand to brush a strand of hair away from your cheek. The contact sent shivers down his spine as he watched you breathe peacefully beneath the sheets. You looked so peaceful and relaxed.

You must have known he was coming. You must want this as much as he does.

With a shaky hand, Reinhardt reaches over and pulls your blanket down slowly. He slightly frowns when he sees you're clothes. Maybe you didn't.... No. You simply wanted to make him put some work into it. Yes, Reinhardt thought, that had to be it.

Slowly, carefully, Reinhardt began to undress you, starting with removing your shirt first. As each article of clothing fell away, he reveled in the feeling of being able to see you completely exposed under the pale moonlight. His hands trembled slightly as they moved lower, tracing along your toned abdominal muscles, lingering just above the waistband of your boxer briefs. He could feel his heart racing in his chest – both from excitement and fear of discovery.

Eventually, everything was removed except for your underwear since he wanted to leave the best for last. Reinhardt hesitated for a moment before reaching out once again, this time grabbing hold of the elastic band and pulling it down over your hips.

You shifted slightly in response, mumbling something incoherent in your sleep, but did not wake. With bated breath, Reinhardt finally allowed himself to admire your naked form fully illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window.

His finger gently traced your soft lips. You look so...vulnerable. Reinhardt was concerned. Anyone could have come in here and hurt you. He was glad he was here to protect you.

As Reinhardt's fingers danced along your supple skin, he felt a surge of heat rise within him. His breath quickened as he explored further, running his fingertip along the curve of your hipbone, then trailing it up towards your neck. His touch seemed to stir some dormant part of you awake, causing you to stretch lazily under his touch.

Reinhardt couldn't help but let out a low groan as his desire threatened to consume him whole. He needed more; he craved closeness, connection… intimacy.

He slowly took hold of your jaw with his callused hand, and with a bit of pressure, pried your mouth open as gently as he could. You made no effort to resist as your body was limp and relaxed. Reinhardt shuddered when he took a look into your mouth. It looked soft, wet, and inviting. His other hand worked quickly, pulling down his zipper and freeing his throbbing erection from its confines.

With shaking hands, Reinhardt positioned himself at your mouth, pressing the head of his engorged member against your plump lips. They parted ever so slightly, allowing him access to explore your tongue and teeth with the tip of his cock. Each brush against your wet warmth sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

He leaned forward, resting his weight partially on the bed as he thrust deeper into your mouth.

Each shallow thrust drew forth a whimper of submission from you, amplifying the intensity of Reinhardt's arousal tenfold. The sound of your breathy gasps, coupled with the sensation of your hot tongue wrapped around his length, drove him wild with desire. He picked up speed just ever so slightly.

The sight of you lying there, naked and vulnerable beneath him, served only to heighten his fervor. He watched transfixed as his thick cock disappeared between your swollen lips, emerging coated in a sheen of saliva.

Every time he pulled out to stroke himself and keep himself hard, it left a trail of drool connecting your mouth to his aching need. Reinhardt knew he couldn't cum with such a slow pace.

Without warning, he pushed himself balls deep into your mouth, cutting off your air supply completely. You shifted weakly against the bedding, but your unconscious attempts at resistance only fueled Reinhardt's determination. He held you there, watching the flush spread across your face as you struggled for oxygen

He started to feel a stir of guilt as you continued to struggle, so Reinhardt slid his cock out from your throat. You sucked in great ragged gasps of air, coughing and spluttering as your body fought to recover from the sudden deprivation. Eventually, your body went back to its calm and normal rhythm of breathing.

Still hard and hungry for more, Reinhardt watched with a mixture of satisfaction and shame as you regained your composure, oblivious to the violation that had just taken place.

Feeling emboldened by his success thus far, Reinhardt pressed his cockhead once again to your swollen lips, demanding entrance without preamble. This time, however, he didn't stop when you instinctively resisted, instead choosing to simply overpower you with his strength.

Your sleeping form whined in protest as Reinhardt forced himself inside your mouth, but he ignored your pleas, focusing solely on the sweet torture of your warm mouth enveloping him. He sped up his thrusts, each powerful stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through him like a tidal wave.

Watching his cock disappear and reappear between your lips was almost too much for Reinhardt to bear. The sight of his enormous girth stretching your tiny mouth to its limits sent shivers of anticipation down his spine. He could feel himself nearing the edge, the pressure building in his balls like a volcano threatening to erupt.

Growing impatient for release, Reinhardt took matters into his own hands – literally. Grabbing hold of your head, he roughly shoved your face onto his cock, using your skull as leverage to drive himself deeper than ever before. His hips bucked wildly, slamming his entire length into your waiting mouth with every brutal thrust. You squirmed beneath him, no doubt aware that something wasn't quite right, but unable to break free from the haze of sleep. At this moment, he needed nothing more than to cum – to mark you irrevocably as his.

"Ahh, mein Liebling," Reinhardt whispered tenderly, unable to contain the words that had been building up inside him for weeks. "Ich liebe dich so sehr." He continued to thrust, his voice growing more urgent with each thrust. "Du bist die Sonne meiner Welt, ohne dich bin ich verloren im Dunkel."

His pace increased, driven by a primal instinct that bordered on feral. "Willst du es haben? Willst du mich? Ich bitte um Vergebung, aber ich kann nicht aufhören." He held you there at the hilt of his cock, suspended between ecstasy and agony.

As the familiar sensation of impending orgasm began to build within him, Reinhardt pulled out of your mouth, deciding that he wanted to watch every second of his release unfold. He roughly grabbed your chin, angling your face towards him as he stroked himself furiously, his movements growing increasingly erratic as he neared completion.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Reinhardt cried out in ecstasy as he came, painting streaks of cum across your cheeks and nose. Panting heavily, he stood there for several seconds, savoring the aftermath.

After catching his breath, Reinhardt grabbed a pair of your boxers from nearby, using them to clean your cute face. What kind of lover would he be if he left you like this? He stuffs the boxers into his pocket and puts his dick away.

Once satisfied that the mess was gone, Reinhardt redressed you, tucking you in snuggly beneath the covers. As he gazed down at your peaceful expression, Reinhardt caressed your cheek. He leans down to kiss your cheek. You look so peaceful as you sleep despite what happened. Reinhardt's breath hitched in his throat as you unconsciously moved your face into his warm hand.

All guilt and doubts left his mind. You loved him back. Your body knew you two were made for each other. Reinhardt slipped quietly out of the room, wondering if he should love you again tomorrow night.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[r4d1c4lw31rd0]

Unseen Grave (Yandere!Venture x Reader)

My first post and it's about Venture LOLZ- I've never used tumblr before, I kinda just skim through here on occasion for cool art, writing for some of my favorite characters, and headcanons- Sorry if this is bad- This is also on AO3! I don't mind any requests either, can't promise to get to them quickly though-

CW: Minor Character death, implied/referenced past non/con, dead dove kinda, stalking, non graphic violence, skippable NSFW (This isn't non-con), a kinda abrupt ending, OOC Mauga, No use of Y/N, Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Your POV

Where did all of this go wrong? You only ever wanted to live a normal and happy life. Forced into a world of crime, you made it your mission to get yourself and your comrades out of this hell hole. This slimy, sludgy pit you all had seemed perpetually stuck in, but you knew there was better out there. You could all live that lavish and carefree life you always dreamed of, you just had to claw your way to it. So when Mauga approached you, you saw it as an opportunity. Talon spotted your talent, your knack for creating poisons and toxins capable of killing or simple paralysis. Why they sent this big brute you’d never understand.

He held his hand out to you, that devious smirk on his dashing features captivating you like no other, drawing you in like a fly to a honeypot. You couldn’t see the web just inches from it though, nor could you see the spider eyeing you and waiting patiently for you to get stuck in its home. He gave you an offer you simply couldn’t ignore. A whole new identity and payment beyond what you could fathom, more than petty pocket change for simple side hustles, no you’d be playing in the big leagues. If you impressed Doomfist himself enough that is. All you had to do was complete a rather simple task and the position was all yours.

Despite what you’d heard about Mauga, he was quite tricky and conniving with his words. The smartest? Not by a long shot. He couldn’t quite comprehend the big words you used, but he could read you like an open book, and that was enough for him. The smallest twitch or glance was all he needed to know almost exactly what you were thinking and just how much more persuasion you were going to need. A true predator cornering its prey.

If you knew then what you know now, you never would’ve agreed. Then again, Talon may not have let you off the hook so easily. It may have cost you your life. You agreed to the simple mission, poisoning an important political figure and rendering him desperate enough to turn to Talon for a cure. Your unique little toxins could only be cured by you, considering they were abominations to medical science and were something entirely new and original all together. The mere fact that you only had to change one component to make it cause different effects was something you were proud of.

You didn’t doubt yourself in the slightest, so when word of your success was all over the news you felt your pride and ego swell. Doomfist had introduced you into a new world, one where the pay was greater and the tasks were challenging enough for a brilliant mind like yours. Working alongside Dr. O’deorain was fascinating, considering it was she who had inspired you to push the boundaries of the medical world. At the time, Talon seemed like it would give you everything you needed, but blinded by that desire for more and where it could take you you didn’t see it for what it truly was. Just as much of a hell hole as the rest of the world had been.

They squashed your hopes of getting somewhere, of having peace and calm rather than the hustle and bustle of the streets. No, working for them you never knew any kind of peace. A sense of hate began to form inside of you, alongside resentment. Watching them turn your brilliance into mush and treat it as if it was the common whore was devastating. They had the audacity to demand better from you. Working with Talon, you began to develop the belief that a life of crime and hate was your only option, that staying in this pit was the only option for you. The heinous acts you committed just to gain a lick of fortune was the only thing you’d ever be good for. Of course, you blamed Mauga for all of it. He had gotten you into Talon after all with his stupid face and smug words. 

 You had found yourself in some kind of relationship with him. He never said you two were together but he surely acted like it, getting irritable when others flirted with you or tried to ask you out. The relationship hadn't been the best nor the healthiest, but at the time you were just happy someone wanted you and didn't view you as a monster because of things you couldn't control. He called you so many sweet names, complimented you when Doomfist tried to put you down and offered you a place to run to in any time of need. It was all for his own advantage of course, but you didn’t know that. You just knew you could be vulnerable with him. You were unaware that you’d finally crept too close to the spider's web. No, he wasn’t a spider, he was a wolf. And you were a lamb, strayed too far from the safety of the herd and right into the wolf’s den.

Needless to say, he took advantage of you and your trust in him. The whole time you two were entangled in your complex relationship, he was almost always borderline violent with you and was very hot and cold with you, treating you as if you were some kind of dog that needed to be trained. You complied with almost everything he asked of you, and even when you didn't he forced you to anyway. Countless nights you lay next to him feeling used like some cheap toy for a rabid animal, and yet you stayed. Because Talon was all you had. Because he was all you had. No one was coming to save a monster, especially not one as sneaky and atrocious as you.

In the end, when you finally had enough, Mauga broke you down and ripped your heart to shreds. He called you so many awful names, told you how much he despised you and watched you crumble with disgusting glee. It hurt. Even though  he had treated you so poorly, you were still so distraught by his words and callous behavior. The fact that you were readily available for him was the only reason he kept you around, to be a punching bag and plaything when he felt like it. His betrayal fueled a kind of rage you didn’t know you were capable of feeling, and made you realize for the first time that this world was cruel no matter where you looked at it from and you were stuck in an echo chamber of miserable people. Maybe that's why they let you spiral. Used that rage and hurt against you, and made you numb to everything because it was just easier that way. It kept them from picking at your vulnerability any longer, from seeing you as weak..

You weren’t cared for in the slightest at Talon and you were just fine with that. You didn’t need to be babied or coddled anymore than you had when you were first introduced to this raunchy life, especially not by people who were as disingenuous and callous as your “co-workers”. The only one who showed a hint of sympathy or empathy was Dr. Kuiper and Sombra, probably some of the only people in that place capable of expressing such a thing.You couldn’t complain. You  still made money so long as you did what was asked of you and didn’t retaliate when you were degraded for your progress or your work. You were pretty sure things took a turn when you met Sloane, who at the time was “Venture” to you.

Pesky, annoying, and constantly getting in the way of your mission to find some artifact for Doomfist from some kind of ancient gravesite. The two of you were naturally enemies, being on opposite sides and all. And yet they intrigued you. Their happy-go-lucky manner and their quippy remarks as they effortlessly kicked the asses of your useless “assistants” you didn’t understand why Doomfist bothered sending. Truthfully, you could’ve accomplished the mission just as well on your own. You probably would’ve killed them too if Overwatch hadn’t shown up. Just as annoying as ever, they helped finish off the rest of your shitty squad, leaving you running off to hide like a dog with its tail between its legs. That mission you had been left behind, abandoned like an injured pup and left to fend for yourself. Badly injured, you would have cared less if you died. Sitting and stewing in your own misery had made you indifferent to life or death.

Doomfist didn’t want to lose you as an asset, but your location didn’t provide him any opportunity to send you an escape route, so you were stuck slinking about the Petra ruins, avoiding the ever-watchful eyes of Overwatch and the Wayfinders as you waited for your wounds to take you out. You’d only been caught because that insufferable archaeologist found you. You were dehydrated with infected wounds, and even then you still bared your teeth at their approach. They had been on guard at first, but seeing you in such a pathetic state had made them take pity on you, something you hadn’t been gracious enough to receive since you were a child.

Taken to the on-site medical facility, you were put under watch but nonetheless you were cared for. You were unfit to go to jail and serve for your crimes right away, so you were stuck there with the Wayfinders, under their care until you could be sent off. For whatever reason, Venture had stuck with you whenever they could, offering short conversation that was mostly one-sided. You didn’t talk much and only glared, uncomfortable with the hospitality. You would’ve preferred if they were rude to you. It was what you were used to. Three days was all it took for you to finally crack. Three days of consistent visits and kind words. Naturally, you were hesitant. Last time you had opened yourself up you were burnt terribly, and had been several times before. Kindness was a poison to you, and yet they made it so desirable. Their genuinity with it and the way they handed it out so easily had you craving it.

After about a month you had completely recovered, well enough to finally go serve for your crimes. The last day you and Venture spent together, you had taken their hand, feeling its warmth as you pressed a small kiss to the back of it. Their flustered reaction made you laugh for the first time since becoming what you were, and it was warm and joyous.

“Thank you, Sloane.” You whispered, refusing to look at them. You didn’t want them to see you cry. “You’ve been so kind to me, even though I’m so undeserving of it. I wish things were different. I wish we’d met before . . . everything.”

“Not everyone deserves a second chance.” Their words stung, making you shrink in on yourself slightly. “But, you’re . . . different. I don’t think you ever really wanted to do the things you did.”

You looked up at them. They saw you, truly saw you, what you were beneath the muck that had clung to you and thickly coated your skin. Something about the way they looked at you gently made you want to melt and embrace them, but you didn’t, still too timid to trust completely.

“You’re not a bad guy, you were just forced into a shitty situation. Try not to be so hard on yourself.” Their smile wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but it was still filled with just as much charisma and warmth.

Looking back on it, you believe it was this small interaction that led to the actions after. That simple and innocent act of gratitude. If not that, then you weren’t sure what, but you could recall that new glint in their eyes when they watched you get taken away. The way their gaze lingered far longer than it ever had. The way they subtly caressed the hand you kissed.

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

Your time in jail wasn’t bad, made better by the fact that you received letters and small gifts and pictures from Sloane. The letters were innocent to you at the time, but thinking back on it the signs were there. You wrote back, sent small handmade gifts of your own, and kept every picture and ecstatic letter they sent you from each of their journeys that they shared with you. Unfamiliar with the whole concept of having someone truly care about you, you didn’t notice anything weird. You fought a bit with the other inmates who tried their hand at intimidating the newbie, especially with how widespread your reputation had become working with Talon. You had believed yourself doomed to rot there, considering you had attacked several political figures, harmed many innocents, and stolen that much more. You’d also broken Hippocratic Oath and used your research for worse.

 But like some unwanted blessing, you found yourself hightailing it out of there early. Talon had come back for you, after abandoning you for months, and before you would’ve run back to them with open arms. Things were different now though, you had changed for the better and knew going back promised nothing but misery. You ran the second you could, barely escaping but escaping nonetheless. Hiding in a sewer wasn’t ideal but it helped you get away from that prison and away from Talon. The one good thing they could’ve done for you, and probably the last. You knew now though that they would be looking for you. Doomfist would be pissed, knowing he wasted valuable time and resources trying to get you out of prison just for you to run off, but that was his own problem. You never asked for his help, perfectly content with rotting in a cell but now gifted a chance of freedom. With nowhere to go though, you turned to the only person you felt you could trust. The one person who made you feel some sense of normalcy.

Going to Sloane was a huge gamble, considering that you were still a wanted criminal and they were pretty much some kind of vigilante hero type. It took you forever to get to Petra, but you managed, lying in wait until you could talk to Sloane again. In the dead of night, you startled them awake, covering their mouth to prevent them from shouting.

“Shhhh. It’s just me.” You whispered, letting their sleepy eyes adjust to the dark, watching them widen at the sight of you. “Follow.”

The simple command was all they needed as they trailed after you, the two of you finding a quiet little spot away from the dig site to speak freely. Sloane was dressed in a form fitting tank top, allowing you to see the various tattoos that decorated their muscular arms, but you tried not to oogle too much.

“W-What are you doing here? I thought you were in prison? . . .” Sloane spoke slowly, voice still laced with the smallest inklings of sleep as they yawned, pushing stray strands of hair from their face.

“Talon came for me.” You saw them tense, scrambling to finish explaining. “I ran though. They don’t know I’m here, but they are searching for me, and I-” your voice caught in your throat as you swallowed thickly. “I can’t go back.”

You never told Venture the full story of your time at Talon, just that it was awful. They didn’t know about Mauga, didn’t know what was said to you, or any of what you had experienced. It was difficult to bring up. What they did know was that you weren’t treated kindly, and that was enough for them.

“I just need somewhere to hide so I can create a new identity for myself. I just want to live a normal life. That’s all I want.” You stumbled forward, taking a hold of their hands, steady in your trembling ones. “I can’t trust anyone else to keep me hidden. Please, I promise you’ll never have to hear from me, I won’t cause anyone any harm, I just-”

Your desperate ranting was cut off as they pulled you into a tight hug. Their scent was calming, earthy and refreshing. They held you gently, a solid rock amidst the swirling storm of emotion you felt. You weren’t sure how to react, arms shaking as you cautiously hugged them back. You felt safe. Accepted. Warm. You began to hitch as your legs buckled and gave out, taking both of you to the ground as you buried your face into their shoulder. How long has it been since you allowed yourself to cry like this? Ugly sobs wrench their way free from your body as they hold you, rubbing slow and calming circles between your shoulder blades.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re safe with me, I promise.” They spoke in a hushed tone, accepting you as you were. “You don’t gotta explain anything to me right now, all that can come later.”

They shifted so that they could hold you more comfortably, letting you cry into them without complaint. When you calmed down, you leaned back, their arms slowly falling from you as you stared down at your lap, furiously wiping away tears. You sniffled slightly, before their hands came into view, holding yours.

“You’ll rub your face raw if you keep doing that, it’s okay to be not okay, camarada.” They were gentle with you, scooting closer to you. “I’d be happy to help you out, especially if it’ll bring you some peace. You deserve at least that much, and you’ve more than proven that you deserve it. Apologies won’t make up for much though, there’s only so far words will take you. You gotta make an effort to do better.”

You looked up to meet their gaze, warm brown eyes scanning your face. You didn’t feel judged, and instead could feel that love and care you always so desperately searched for. You did have a long way to go if you even wanted to atone for a fraction of what you had done, but you were aware no amount of repenting would fix anything. You still did what you did, and there was nothing you could do to fix it. And yet, here in Venture’s arms, you felt so sure that things would get better, especially with them at your side. So distracted by your thoughts and their comfort, you barely registered the way they looked at you with a burning possession and the way their smile slightly faltered when you removed yourself from their hold.

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

Venture POV

Six months. For six, sweet months Venture had you all to themself. It was a miracle of some kind, it had to be. When the two of you had been separated they could hardly stand it, they wanted to go to you and take you from that prison themself. Hide you away from the world where only they could find you. But they had a reputation to uphold, and they wouldn’t be doing anyone much good if they were in prison with you. When you had first arrived all that time ago, Sloane had thought of you as a bad guy working for talon and nothing more, but when they talked to you in the infirmary, they could tell you were different. When you kissed their hand so sweetly, holding back tears, they felt their heart nearly explode.

At first they were scared and confused. These feelings were new and foreign, they’d never felt this way about anyone else before. But you . . . you lit a new fire in them they didn’t know existed, and they wanted more. They wanted you, but you were gone, so they made do with letters and sending you gifts. They remembered when you finally started writing back they could hardly contain themself, not to mention when you sent the little gifts you made by hand. Countless nights Sloane had spent thinking about you, depressed by the thought that they’d never get to touch or hold you. They tossed and turned dreaming about what it would be like to have you next to them instead, but it did nothing to soothe the growing flames of their obsession with you.

And then right out of thin air you appeared, needing them. It had to be fate, the way you came back to them like a lost dog, dependent upon them and their helping hand. Talon had finally done a good thing for them, and that was bringing you two together again. They had been more than willing to do anything for you, but you were so shy and timid. They had to be careful, or else you’d run off and never come back. They had to put on a facade, but was it really a facade when it felt so genuine with you? Because they did care about you, they’d go so far as to say that they loved you. However, they knew you were fragile, knew that this pillar of trust they had built up could be snapped in an instant if you caught a whiff of how they truly felt, because no matter how right this felt to Venture, they knew it was wrong . They had to do this the right way, and that meant keeping their feelings for you a secret.

At first, there wasn’t much to worry about. They had you all to themself by default, considering if anyone saw you they’d send you right back to prison. As they had promised, they kept you hidden away from the prying eyes of everyone at the dig site, whisked away where they wouldn’t find you while they helped you rebuild. They helped you change your appearance, making you look different than what you were before but still vaguely the same. They gave you a place to rest your head, and provided you with food and water. They took care of you, like any good partner would. You probably didn’t see it that way, but Sloane had convinced themself you would with due time. You’d recognize their effort and fall into their arms. You’d let them touch you more, and you’d open up to them and share all your secrets like good partners did. But you didn’t.

No matter what they did, you always seemed to be so far from their reach, withdrawing from their attempts to touch or soothe you when you clearly needed it, and each time they respected that boundary, though patience was wearing thin. You were so close, how could they not want to touch you? They always made due with taking things of yours. Articles of clothing in particular that smelled strongly of you. They loved your smell. It was a unique scent, and they always felt so perverted sniffing your shirts in private. The shame fueled their hunger though, and occasionally they’d get bold enough to take your underwear. Not often, but when they really wanted to.

When you finally cultivated a new identity, they helped you get a job at the Petra site, if only to keep you closer to them. You may have been part of the bio-archaeology team, but you were still theirs. They had been concerned at first, afraid that someone there might catch your eye and take you away from them, but you did wonders in keeping people away. The others might have called you ‘rude’ and ‘scary’, but Venture knew the true you, them and them alone. You kept the rest of the world at bay, and kept them close.

If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. The two of you were clearly meant for each other, and everyday that passed that you still treated them as a simple friend pained them more and more. Why couldn’t you see what the two of you had? You still tortured them, tempting them to get closer, close enough to touch. Sloane was content playing a well-behaved best friend, but they couldn’t explain that aching desire for more that coiled in their gut as time ticked by.

Despite their own turmoil, you were happy and that was all that mattered. As upsetting as it was seeing you start to open up with others, they couldn’t deny that the look on your face was worth it. Nothing compared to what they could make you feel, but it satisfied them knowing that you were getting what you wanted and what they had promised you’d have. Peace. And they planned on keeping it that way. You believed that Talon couldn’t find you. But the truth was they had, and tried several times to take you away and back into their nasty clutches. But every time, Sloane was there to stop them, dispatching them all with ease. Every time they rammed their drill into a talon goons body, piercing and mangling their flesh, they always thought of you. How this was all for you and only you.

Every bone broken, scream muffled, and skull cracked beneath a boot was all done in your name. These guys wanted to take you back to a place that hurt you, wipe that sweet precious smile off your face forever and undo all of Sloane’s progress. Sloane didn’t feel bad watching their blood stain their clothes because they deserved it, and if they could they would’ve killed every single person working for Talon, but they needed to stay here with you to keep a watchful eye and keep you blissfully unaware. These disgusting bastards wouldn’t ruin you again, not if Venture had anything to say about it.

Tonight was no different as they carelessly tossed more mangled bodies into a ravine, a small smirk of satisfaction evident on their features. How many more would they send before they stopped trying? Then again, it always gave them a rush when they took out these idiots, thinking about how grateful you’d be to them if you knew. Sometimes, when you pulled away they wanted to drag you closer, shake you and confess everything. Confess their love, the things they’d done to those Talon goons who were trying to snag you, maybe then you’d appreciate them. Perhaps you’d even reciprocate their love.

It was becoming too much for them to bear, and as ashamed as they were of the action, they had tried to get closer to you while you were sleeping. They always wanted to consider that it would be the perfect moment to get close to you. They underestimated how light of a sleeper you were though, panicking when you opened your eyes and caught them right in the act. They had to come up with an excuse, one that you surprisingly believed before they excused themself. It wasn’t their proudest moment, but at least they knew not to try it again. You were sleeping now, tired from the day's events, but Sloane lay wide awake in their bed, twitching with anticipation. They hadn’t seen you most of the day, with both of you being busy. As much as they loved what they did, Sloane loved you more.

They wanted to visit you now more than ever, feeling hot and bothered after dispatching those goons, but knowing damn well you wouldn’t allow it. They thought about it several times, coming to you after finishing them off, covered in their blood and giving you a kiss. Your hands roaming them as you praised them for their work. They huffed softly, hands grabbing at their shirt as they flipped over.

~NSFW START~

They were feeling particularly needy tonight, pulling out a shirt of yours they had recently taken. They pressed it to their nose, inhaling deeply and taking in your delectable scent. It still smelled so strongly of you, and it brought them inexplicable joy. They practically salivated over it, breath coming out in whiny gasps. They sat up slightly, taking their pillow and pushing it beneath their body. They let out a soft growl as their hips grinded against the pillow, imagining it to be you instead as they closed their eyes and sniffed again. They shuddered as they let out a breath, whimpering as they continued to grind some more against the pillow.

They thought about how vocal you could be, imaging your hands roaming over their muscles, massaging them as you went. Your legs wrapping around them as they provided you with pleasure, your face contorting in ways they could only cause. The praise you’d give as they followed your every command. Sloane moaned softly as they humped the pillow faster, rougher, free hand curling into the sheets as they pressed their face further into your shirt.

“Joder querido por favor~ I need you~” They whispered the words in a hushed tone, slowing their pace for a moment. “ He sido tan bueno, lo prometo~”

Gods, they could imagine how you would feel, body pressed against theirs, flesh touching flesh as the sound of your love would reverberate through the room. The two of you could care less who would hear, it would just be the both of you in the moment. The marks they would leave on you, nipping at as much exposed flesh as they could, marking you up and claiming you as theirs. You’d beg them for more and they’d happily oblige, giving you what you wanted. They could be gentle, or they could be rough. They could pin your hands and make you squirm and beg for their touch, or perhaps you’d like to be on top, having them worship every inch of you and beg to touch you. Beg you for relief.

“Dios ya no puedo más, te necesito mucho mi amor por favor~” Their voice was high pitched and whiny, desperation laced in their tone. “Tell me how good I’ve been for you~ Fuck ~ You feel so good mi amor~ Tell me how good I make you feel~”

Their moans gradually got louder the deeper into the fantasies they sank, desperately wishing for the real thing. They could only think about how soon enough it could be you, you just needed a little more coaxing and to realize your feelings that you undoubtedly had for them. They could see it in the way you looked at them, feel it when you touched them. Your words were so gentle with them, and you were so sweet. God they couldn’t wait to have you. They’d take it as slow as you needed if only it meant you’d be closer to them. How would your lips finally feel once you let them get close enough? How would you taste?

“Mine, mine, mine. All mine. Only mine.” Their words were muffled, coming out in short growls, matching the pace they had set for themself. “Eres toda mía, mi amor, toda mía~” The words came out in a chant, laying some unknown claim on you for their own sake and sanity.

Sloane slowed their movement against the pillow, thinking about how whiny you’d get when they went slower than you liked, and then picked up again in the same beat to keep you on your toes. Their thrusts got rougher as they groaned, panting desperately as they approached their climax, their last few thrusts desperate as they let out one last cry, sweat dripping from their body as they relaxed, nuzzling their face into your shirt.

~NSFW END~

Sloane instantly felt much more relaxed, feeling the tension leave their body. Such a mess they’d made. They thought about laying next to you, giving you soft kisses and praise as they cleaned you up and snuggled close to go to bed. Unfortunately, they weren’t with you and couldn’t sleep while being such a mess. They lifted themself from their bed, tucking your shirt away again for a later date. For now, they needed to clean themself up, grabbing a towel as they headed for the showers. In due time the two of you would be together. You’d recognize your love for them, and they’d be waiting for you with open arms, no matter how long it took. Until then, they were content just being near you, protecting you from afar.

[u-ni-t]

[sleepyems-15]

yandere ramattra

(this is from my wattpad account)

summary: You've worked at a flower shop near a temple and an omnic always visited the shop but this time a different omnic visited.

Characters: zenyatta, ramattra and you

You were watering some orchids until you heard the door open. You walked behind the cashier counter to see you regular customer, zenyatta. He had come to this shop everyday, if he wasn't busy.

"Hello zen, how are you?" You asked politely ,smiling kindly at the omnic. "I am well, thank you for asking" he looked around the shop looking at the flowers.

"The zinnia looks nice today" he pointed beside you. You turned around to see them "yea, they're were hard to keep alive. Everytime I tried planting them again they would die so I'm glad that they didn't this time" you rambled on.

"I'm sorry I was rambling on" you apologized. The omnic didn't really care if you rambled, he just liked hearing your voice.

"What would you like zen? Those irises are back in stock if you want some" you told him. He nodded his head "not really I just came in here to check how you were feeling " he said.

You smile widen "oh well thanks zen, I'm feeling fine" he told him, but you realized something zenyatta was acting different. He would normally buy at least one flower.

"Zen you sure you're alright?" You asked him. He nodded his head "yes but I must get going, farewell (name)" he waved goodbye leaving the shop. You gave a small wave back.

You walked back to the orchids picking up a watering can and continued watering it. You heard the front door open once more.

Strange nobody comes into the shop after zenyatta leaves, it normally takes about 5 or 10 minutes before someone else enters.

You didn't question it to much and went back to the counter. You saw an omnic, it wasn't zenyatta.

"Hello" you greeted him. He looked at you "hello, my brother came in here, where is he now?" He asked. Brother? It took you a moment to realize who his brother is, zenyatta "sadly you missed him but I have no clue where he is now" you told him.

He sighed and looked around the shop "would you anything?" You asked him. He looked down at you "why does my brother come into this shop?" .

"Well..he buys flowers and he talks to me then he goes" you said.he let out a small huh, he continued looking the shop until he finally spoke "I've had an eye on you for a while little human".

You froze in horror "wha-what" you studdered, he walked a little bit closer to you " my brother told me about you, I was interested in you so I followed you around " he explained.

You moved back and you bumped into the cashier counter. He walked towards you placing a hand on your cheek.

"and you are the most sweetest thing I have ever seen dearest"

Words counted: 512

[5eraphim]

🚨DISCLAIMER THIS IS AN 18+ YANDERE WRITING ACCOUNT! THERE IS A GENERAL NSFW WARNING ON ALL MY WORK; MINORS DNI.🚨

TIP JAR

(Last Updated 12/22/2022)

Headcanon Posts

-The Medic yandere Alphabet

-The Heavy yandere Alphabet

-Spy NSFW Alphabet

-Engineer NSFW Alphabet

-Sniper NSFW Alphabet

-Huntress/Wesker/Oni catching feelings for an altruistic survivor

-Deathslinger/Doctor/Wraith catching feelings for an altruistic survivor

-Yandere Merc’s Love Languages

-Yandere TF2 support classes with an s/o who’s developed Stockholm syndrome

Short Stories

-Nocternal Intrusion (Junnkrat, Overwatch)

Content warnings:  non-con, degradation, humiliation, rough play, break-in

3.8k words

-Big Slugger (Scout, Team Fortress 2)

Content warnings: gunplay (obvi), blowjob, bloodplay (?), humiliation, noncon, B*stonian Male🤢

2.5k words

-Hate Sex (The Engineer, Team Fortress 2)

Content Warnings: Noncon, mating press, misogyny, choking, rough play, Engie straight up uses reader's mouth as an ashtray…

Work Count: 4.5k

-A Rainbow Named Pain (The Pyro, Team Fortress 2)

Content warnings: Noncon, yandere, rough, blood

Word Count 3k

Drabbles/Misc.

that one awful drabble post I made about the administrator

Medic and Sniper with strong Cute Aggression

[danishpastri]

I am, once again, asking for requests.

(READ PINNED FIRST)

[devswritingcornerorsmth]

overwatch ratings based on how they would date

did this a while ago but spent too much time on it for it to not be posted. this is just a personal opinion and personal ratings based off lore and bias tbh. this will be updated with every hero (if I remember to lol)

Tanks:

D.VA: 6/10. Caring and loving, fun gaming dates, but gets recognized a lot, and if it came down to it she’d choose her job to protect south korea over her lover

Doomfist: 4/10. He’d be a gentleman but probably only in it for sex or to be a sugar daddy. He’d treat his “lover” with respect tho so not a total loss i guess.

Junker Queen: 7/10. After the shit she’s been thru i think she doesnt really want a partner cuz shes afraid they’re just using her to get to the throne or that she’ll lose them. She’s protective and caring but also a bit overprotective to the point where it’s like okay calm down. Also might get into a few fights but eh.

Orisa: 0/10. she thinks it would be cute to be in a relationship but knows she cant be in one due to being the “protector of numbani”. so no.

Ramattra: 8/10. Deadass depends if it’s an omnic or not. If his lover is an omnic he will cherish them and take care of them, knowing that they’re one of the few things he loves in this life. If it’s a human then theres some. Problems. He doesnt open up easily and while he’s still protective and caring he can sometimes get very distant towards them because he fears that they only got close to him to use him or kill him.

Reinhardt: 9/10: Perfect gentleman. Treats you with respect and love, and cherishes you no matter what. -1 is because he can be really loud sometimes even when he doesnt mean to be

Roadhog: 5/10. I think of him as aroace but he would try and give it a shot just to feel what it’s like. Hes very quiet but also very calm. He would listen to his lover and do his best to help them, but he moves around a lot thanks to junkrat now and might cut off communication with you just to keep you safe when he's on the run

Sigma: 5/10. A real gentleman, would treat his lover with respect and kindness and love. Only downside is when he has one of his mind breaks and breakdowns. He forgets who he is and just focuses on violence. Also his control of gravity in that state is very fucky so if he’s having a breakdown his lover might get throw to the ground. He feels like jackshit afterwards and probably realizes it’s best not to have someone he cares about so close to him

Wrecking Ball: 0/10 no. he would simply not even if he wanted to. Aroace hampter 

Winston: maybe a 1/10. i feel like he doesnt want a romantic relationship with anybody and just wants friends (aroace monke)

Zarya: 6/10. Protective and caring but would focus too much on her job. would also pick her country over her lover if it did come down to it

Mauga: 8/10: Would treat his lover right and give them anything they asked for. Free beach house, gifts, and a loving, protective, obsessive bf. -2 because slight yandere vibes and can get too possesive-

Damage:

Ashe: 6/10. Partners in crime kinda thing but if you’re not really into that stuff she’s probably not that into you. She has BOB watching you when she cant during a fight but shes always next to you when she can be.

Bastion: 0/10. Dude just wants to live in the woods with his bird he doesnt want that stuff.

Cassidy: 8/10. Southern sweetheart. Treats his partner with love and respect. Only downside is that he’d be out a lot doing his job, but he would let somebody else do it to be with you if it’s a special occasion or if he really wants to stay with you.

Echo: 2/10. Not big on romance but would try it out for science. Sadly in the end it’s not real love so. Oof

Genji: 9/10. Probably doesn’t want a relationship at first because of his body but he gets used to it and opens up his heart. Honestly very good boyfriend would be there to listen and help you with stuff. -1 cuz he might be out doing overwatch stuff a lot and also might not be the most exciting person to be around if you're a hyper person.

Hanzo: 6/10. Can’t see him getting in a relationship after everything thats happened but if he did he’d be kinda bad at it but you could tell that he’s trying his best.

Junkrat: 5/10. I love him but i cant really see him *staying* in a relationship for long. He doesn’t know how to stop sometimes and can get really annoying really quick but he loves making things for his lover and would do his best to keep them away from the dangerous bombs. He loves them a lot but doesn’t know how to turn the love down. Really clingy so if youre into that cool.

Mei: 9/10. Absolute sweetheart. Loves you to bits and takes you out to her favorite restaurants and stuff. -1 cuz you had to have a long distance relationship due to her being in Antarctica and the fact she slept for years with no communication with her lover-

Phara: 4/10. Cares about her job more but would be an okay girlfriend, doing the basics.

Reaper: 1/10. He’s done with love and would probably just just be a sugar daddy or just be there for sex. Even if he did find himself feeling something he’d ignore it and move on

Sojourn:5/10. Not interested in dating or finding love but if it finds her she’ll go for it. Pretty nice girlfriend, makes sure to take care of her lover but does focus on her job a lot more sometimes.

Soldier:76: 0/10. Not interested and has made sure to break off any past relationships. Doesn’t want the people he cares about to get hurt. So he still cares but doesnt go see them.

Somba: 7/10. Would be a pretty good girlfriend if she wanted to have a relationship. She keeps all people she cares about far away and unaware of her deeds at Talon. So a long distance relationship until she can take some time off to go see her lover and vibe.

Symmetra: 3/10. Doesn’t know how to even start a relationship and doesn’t really want to. Her job is important to her so she wouldn’t want distractions from it.

Torbjorn: 6/10. His wife and him had a few children and have been married for a while so he’s probably got the whole love thing covered.

Tracer: 9/10. Probably one of the best on this list. She’s loving and caring and makes sure to spend a lot of time with her partner. 

Widowmaker: 3/10. Last partner she had was um. killed by her so. +3 if you could break down her walls and see the real her but very low chance

Venture: 8.5/10: Would talk to you about rocks, fossils, and everything else they can think about. They’d even let you name rocks around the house. -2 cuz they’ll talk your ear off about rocks n stuff while also bouncing around everywhere. They can also be gone for long periods of time but always makes sure to call. If you can deal with the infodumping and adhd then 9.5/10 for you 

Support:

Ana: 5/10. She doesn’t want a relationship but she’d be very loving and caring to her lover.

Baptiste: 8/10. Great boyfriend, lovers needs always come first and he’s very open and always has an ear out to listen. -2 because he’s constantly on the run and the relationship could get stressed.

Brigitte: 5/10. Mostly focused on her work but would make a pretty good girlfriend if she finds the right person. The relationship would mostly be a test one because she lowkey doesn’t understand it.

Kiriko: 4/10. Would love to be in a relationship but protecting her home is more important than finding love to her.

Lucio: 9/10. Actual sweetheart. Would make music for you and would cancel shows last second if something came up and you needed something. If you need anything he’ll be there to help.

Mercy: 8/10. She’s really focused on her work but no matter what would take time to come stay with you for a while. -2 because sometimes too focused on work and sometimes doesnt have time to see you for a long time.

Moira: 0/10. Not looking for a relationship and would probably lie just to get you strapped to a table and butchered.

Zenyatta: 7/10. Would make a decent boyfriend but he can’t have relationships due to being a monk. He’d be there to listen and to give advice when you needed it.

Lifeweaver: 9/10. Perfect boyfriend in every way. Like no competition. -1 cuz he's on the run from multiple governments so he won't be able to talk all the time or be with you much to his dismay. multiple texts a day tho

Illari: 4/10. Tbh I can't see her getting into a relationship after everything. She's too scared that something will happen with her powers again and hurt her lover

[mubabee]

MASTERLIST

Honkai Star Rail

Yanquing

—Yanqing being overprotective

—Y/N bumps into Blade p.1

—Y/N bumps into Blade p.2

—Y/N bumps into Blade p.3

Luocha

—Y/N tries to hide her wound

—A bit of a suggestive moment with Luocha

(NSFW) On Luocha’s lap

Dan Heng/Dan Feng

—Dan Feng licking your hand(don’t ask)

—Fluff moment with Dan Heng

Jing Yuan

—Jing Yuan licking your hand(don’t ask)

—Fluff Moment with Jing Yuan

—Jing Yuan with shy!Y/N

Natasha

—Genderbent Natasha

Helping Natasha

Himeko

—Genderbent!Himeko being wary of Kafka

—Himeko hugging Y/N

Kafka and Himeko protecting you

Kafka

—Genderbent!Himeko being wary of Kafka

—Random Kafka x reader

Kafka and Himeko protecting you

Random Kafka thought

Gepard

—Gepard hugging Y/N

Caelus

—Sibling Caelus

Path to Nowhere

Zoya

Genderbent Zoya

Demon Slayer

Mitsuri

—Genderbent!Shinobu and Mitsuri

—Rengoku, genderbent!Mitsuri, and Inosuke

Jealous!possessive!Mitsuri

Shinobu

—Genderbent!Shinobu and Mitsuri

Rengoku

—Rengoku, genderbent!Mitsuri, and Inosuke

Inosuke

—Rengoku, genderbent!Mitsuri, and Inosuke

—

—KNY x Reader chapter 1(no context until next chapter)

Jujustu Kaisen

Gojo

—The main trio and Gojo

—Gojo cheering up Y/N

Yuji Itadori

Yuji x reader on Halloween

Yuji x (Y/N)

Spiderverse

Hobie

—Hobie and Pavitr with child!Y/N

Pavitr

—Hobie and Pavitr with child!Y/N

Yona of the Dawn

—Y/N asks Hak to teach her how to fight

Genshin Impact

Shenhe

—Genderbent!Shenhe

Alhaitham

—Sleeping with Alhaitham

Raiden Shogun

—Genderbent!Raiden Shogun

Cyno

Cyno x reader who laughs at his jokes

Baizhu

(NSFW)Baizhu eating you out

Lego Monkie Kid

MK

—MK and Y/N with short hair

—Red son, MK, and Mei with chibi!Y/N

Macaque

—Macaque being unimpressed

Red Son

—Red son, MK, and Mei with chibi!Y/N

Mei

—Red son, MK, and Mei with chibi!Y/N

Undertale/AUs

Aftertale sans

Geno

Overwatch

Tracer

Genderbent Tracer

Kill La Kill

Ryuko Matoi

—Genderbent Ryuko Matoi

#Me

—#Me characters thinking about Y/N

Danganronpa

Mikan

—Genderbent Mikan

Cookie Run Kingdom

Vanilla Cookie —Vanilla Cookie

Hazbin Hotel

—Hazbin Hotel with child!reader p.1

Welcome Home

Wally Darling

—Wally

My Little Pony

Pinkie Pie —Genderbent!human!Pinkie Pie

Sunset Shimmer

—Genderbent!human!Sunset Shimmer

My OCs (All OCs here are yandere)

Mikio

—Mikio

—More info on Mikio

Kuroko

—Kuroko

—Valentines Day with Kuroko

Arata

—Arata

—Meeting Arata for the first time

Hiroto

—Hiroto

[wrioluvr]

.......loading......success! wrioluvr is online! ✧˖°₊ ⊹

about...

eighteen; he/him; male/gn reader; top reader; both nsfw and sfw

fandoms...

genshin, hsr, overwatch, mdzs, svsss, link click, the summer hikaru died, our life: beginnings and always

favs...

other notes...

☆ i'm unable to be mutuals with anyone on here since this is my side blog, sorry （>﹏<）thank u sm if u do drop a follow though, i appreciate it a lot ♡

☆ i don't really do requests since i find it really hard to write scenarios i'm not personally invested in, sorry! feel free to leave suggestions though! ♡

masterlist...

nsfw are in red, fluff are in pink, slightly spicy stuff are in blue.

୨୧ - male reader, ➴ - gn reader

honkai: star rail ⊱☆⊰

୨୧dr ratio bottoming

୨୧coming out to luka, sampo and gepard

genshin ⊱✿⊰

୨୧wriothesley giving a handjob

୨୧power bottom wriothesley

sub yanderes ⊱♡⊰

୨୧slutty sub yan x himbo reader

୨୧slutty sub yan x himbo reader pt 2

➴inmate sub yan x prison warden reader

➴text messages with your cute bf

➴christmas special

vampire oc: kliff ⊱☽⊰

୨୧pt 1

୨୧pt 2

playboy oc: roman ⊱☆⊰

୨୧pt 1

[asexual-abomination]

How platonic yandere Overwatch characters react to you having a significant other Pt. 2

Hey sorry for the long wait, I tried to write Yan!Brother Hanzo and just couldn’t do it. I felt like I couldn’t move on without it, so this whole thing sat unworked on for ages. I realise I need to just get something out there, so I hope you enjoy what I did manage to put together :).

YanMother!Widowmaker

Is this... disrespect?

She is, reasonably, pretty damn worried about you being outside

To keep up a facade of being the emotionless sniper Talon trained her to be, she has to keep her precious child under lock and key, lest they find you and use you against her

But her paranoia goes deeper than most

Absolutely ANY move that gives you any kind of presence in the outside world is unacceptable

Even just regular friends are off the table, you think you're getting away with a significant other?

Not under the spider's eyes

She takes it as disrespect to her abilities that you think you can sneak around behind her back, and disrespect to her authority as your mother that you would so stupidly disobey her rules

She's the kind to just... wait

If you've snuck out of the house, she'll linger around corners, giving you a death glare before disappearing the second you notice her

If you chase her, you'll find that she seems to disappear into thin air

Both you and your significant other will be convinced that you're going crazy, and eventually you'll hurry home thinking you might still not be caught

She'll be perched in her armchair, legs elegantly crossed, eyes focused on you with a frown

Depending on the time of day, she'll have a glass of red wine to swill around menacingly, both to alleviate her stress and assert her control

Before she even says anything, you feel the urge to hand over your phone to avoid her wrath

Quick and sharp, she tells you to go to your room, and you can't help but rush to it

There's the horrible click of your door being locked shut from the outside, as she sighs and tells you this is all your fault

Clearly giving you the run of the house was too much freedom for your little brain, she won't make that mistake again

She won't say anything else, and stalks off for a drink

You don't need to know that she killed your date the second you separated from them

Later that night, she'll return to you, coming into your room with your favourite food and a sad look

As much as Amelie can't stand the idea of you disobeying, she can't stand you being upset with her even more

"I'm so sorry, dear, but you must understand why I do what I do. Here, you're still grounded, but I just can't let you sit in here all sad. Just remember, mother knows best."

YanMum!Junkerqueen

Ohh, ohohoho! OHOHOHO

You wanna date THE child of THE Junkerqueen?

You've certainly got guts!

She's the kind to slap your date on the back and pretend it's friendly, but fully intends on sending them to the floor

You're her BABY! Her Heir!

If anyone wants to do anything with you, they have to get through her

Another who can't stand the idea of you being upset with her, but unlike Amelie, she doesn't even have the spine to keep you under lock and key

She will always crumble to puppy eyes

Almost

But don't go thinking you're free to do whatever you please

Instead, she'll crack down on anyone she considers a threat

Junkertown is a lawless place... unless you're the queen herself

She can make up any crime she wants, and just send her loyal followers after them

In this way, she gets to be the hero who saved you from a horrible criminal who might have hurt you, but also completely absolved of any personal guilt in the situation

And she gets to comfort you about the loss! Win-Win!

Whatever you want on a silver platter, kid! Just forget ALL about any ideas of dating anyone at all!

(She takes any excuse to spoil to you, and what's better than some mother-child bonding time after a breakup?)

And if you see your old date, running around in the depths of Junkertown, doing odd and dangerous tasks with a scared look in their eye, then just ignore it sweety! They're doing... community service, y'know?

"Hey, whaddya think you're doing with MY kid? Ohh, you're daaating, huh? Well, you're gonna have to get through me!"

YanSis!Junkerqueen

Sure, but don't you dare leave Junkertown!

As a sister, she's more protective than possesive

So long as you stay within the walls of Junkertown, where she knows everything that goes on at all times, you can do whatever you want

She pays attention to everything that happens to you, but doesn't interfere as much as her motherly version would

It's all in the service of keeping you safe and happy, just as she always wanted

A significant other who makes you happy is just fine in her book

When you're happy, (and she can see it) she's happy

But the MOMENT your partner slips up in any way, she explodes

If they in any way imply that you might leave Junkertown, or just in general try to hide from her all-encompassing watch

She will pursue a traitor to the full extent of law

What's that line from that one weird old book she once read for you?

Off with their heads!

You can go and do whatever want with the protection of your Queen, but the mere implication of you actually LEAVING?

Unacceptable

But you won't suffer any consequences, that would go against everything she stands for

Instead, your partner faces the full brunt of her anger

She'll unintentionally guilt trip you about it as she tries to explain her side of it

"What don't you get? It's dangerous out there! And if they're gonna try and take you outside, where I can't protect you, then I'm gonna fucking kill 'em!"

YanFather!Hanzo

It's not even a question of whether or not he'll accept it, it's a question of how far your new partner can run until they get an arrow in the back of their skull

There's no veil of tolerance or kindness, he will literally shoot them right in front of you when he realises what's going on

Unlike many of the others, he doesn't really care about you being happy at the end of it all

He thinks you should understand his reasoning without any explanation

Why can't you see that no one is worthy of you?

He'll kill your significant other in front of you and then send you to your room for complaining

You won’t get sympathy from him

When you break his rules, there are punishments and consequences

This is the natural order of things in his mind

How you could even get a significant other under his strict containment is beyond me tbh but it’s really never worth it

The second he finds out, they’re dead

It’s not even a matter of jealousy or protectiveness on his end

He’s a busy man, you probably don’t spend much time by his side anyway

It’s simply a matter of you obeying the rules

He was raised under incredibly harsh rules as the scion of the clan; he thinks he’s being very lenient with you

Death is no matter to him - and he’s willing for you to hate him

There’s no winning this for you or your poor partner

“Haven’t I already told you? There are consequences for your actions. Tch. If you don’t want to look at the body, you can go and mope in your room, ungrateful brat.”

—//—

Hope you enjoyed!

[the-kryomancer]

Writing Commissions

My Ko-Fi

DM me on tumblr to discuss commission requests and pricing

Prices

500 word fic–$5

1,000 word fic–$10

2,000 word fic–$20

$5 added per additional 500 words

Prices are negotiable depending on word count.

I accept payment through Ko-fi only. I accept payment up front or upon completion of the commission

What I do Write

Fluff

Angst

Hurt/comfort

Gore (it depends)

Canon x Canon

OC x Canon

OC x OC

OT3’s

Canon x Reader

Self insert x canon

Self insert x OC

What I don’t Write

Pedophilia/Adults x minors

Dubcon or non-con

Yandere

Horror

Self harm/suicide

Real people/celebrities

Sonas of youtubers

Hate propaganda

This is a nonnegotiable. Do not try to get me to write something I’m not comfortable writing

Fandoms I write for

Marvel comics/MCU

DC/DCAU/DCEU

Arrowverse shows

Supernatural

Critical Role/DND

Overwatch

TF2

Star Trek (TAOS)

Star Wars

OUAT

Prison Break

Mission Impossible

Gotham

iZombie

Detroit Become Human

Arcane League of Legends

How to Train Your Dragon

BBC Merlin

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

God of War (4 & 5 only)

Bridgerton (Netflix version)

Netflix’s Ragnarok

ATLA/LOK

Stranger Things

If a certain fandom is not up here that you want me to write for, just ask! I’m willing to do research!

Fandoms I do not write for

Five Nights at Freddy’s

American Horror Story

Creepypasta

Homestuck

Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel

Once I’ve written the fic and sent you the link and it’s been approved and paid for, I’m okay with you posting it as long as you credit me as the author since it is a commission. If you would like it posted by me to reblog I’m happy to do so

Slots Available

1,500 or less words Slot 1 [OPEN]

1,500 or less words Slot 2 [OPEN]

1,500 or less words Slot 3 [OPEN]

1,500 or less words Slot 4 [OPEN]

1,500 or less words Slot 5 [OPEN]

2,000 words Slot 1 [OPEN]

2,000 words Slot 2 [OPEN]

2,000 words Slot 3 [OPEN]

2,500+ words Slot 1 [OPEN]

2,500+ words Slot 2 [OPEN]

[yanderes-galore]

Masterlists

(New place where all the masterlists will go)

Alien vs Predator (Edited: 11/29/23)

Arknights (Edited: 4/11/23)

Arcane (Edited: 11/8/23)

A Song of Ice and Fire/House of The Dragon/Game of Thrones (Edited: 6/13/24)

Assassination Classroom (Edited: 5/20/23)

Beastars (Edited: 4/25/24)

Bendy and The Ink Machine (Edited: 6/5/24)

Bioshock (Edited: 11/4/23)

Black Butler (Edited: 4/11/23)

Blue Exorcist (Edited: 4/21/23)

Borderlands (Edited: 2/26/24)

The Boys (Edited: 3/20/24)

Call of Duty (Edited: 10/24/23)

Cookie Run (Edited: 5/11/23)

Cult of the Lamb (Edited: 4/13/24)

Cuphead (Edited: 6/21/23)

Danganronpa (Edited 4/11/23)

Dark Souls and other Soulslike games (Edited: 6/4/24)

DC Comics (Edited: 10/30/23)

Dead by Daylight (Edited: 5/8/24)

Death Note (Edited: 5/9/24)

Demon Slayer (Edited: 3/28/24)

Detroit: Become Human (Edited: 9/3/23)

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. (Edited: 4/21/23)

Disney (Edited: 2/22/24)

Don't Starve (Edited: 4/11/23)

DOOM (Edited: 4/21/23)

Dragon Age (Edited: 3/11/24)

Elder Scrolls (Edited: 3/22/24)

Far Cry (Edited: 2/16/24)

Fear and Hunger (Edited: 5/5/24)

Five Nights at Freddy's (1) (Edited: 7/28/23) (2) (Edited: 10/23/23) (3) (Edited: 4/26/24)

Gears/Gears of War (Edited: 5/22/24)

Genshin Impact (Edited: 4/17/24)

God of War (Edited: 11/13/23)

Halo (Edited: 5/21/24)

Halo RvB (Edited: 5/12/24)

Happy Tree Friends (Edited: 4/27/24)

Homestuck/Hiveswap (1) (Edited 1/21/24) (2) (Edited 3/24/24)

How To Train Your Dragon (Edited: 4/30/24)

Identity V (1) (Edited: 4/11/23) (2) (Edited: 4/11/23)

Invader Zim (Edited: 4/11/23)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (Edited: 6/13/24)

Jujutsu Kaisen (Edited: 6/12/24)

The Last of Us (Edited: 5/5/23)

Left 4 Dead (Edited: 4/11/23)

Madness Combat (Edited: 5/2/24)

Marvel (Edited: 11/17/23)

Metro Game Series (Edited: 3/12/24)

Mortal Kombat (Edited: 3/3/24)

My Hero Academia (Edited: 6/4/24)

My Little Pony (Edited: 4/24/24)

Mystic Messenger (Edited: 4/11/23)

Naruto (Edited: 5/23/24)

Ninjago (Edited: 9/15/23)

Nintendo (Edited: 5/3/24)

Obey Me! (Edited: 4/11/23)

Outlast (Edited: 7/21/23)

The Outerworlds (Edited: 4/11/24)

Overwatch (Edited: 5/4/24)

Payday (Edited: 1/24/24)

Pirates of The Caribbean (Edited: 4/11/23)

Pokemon (Edited: 4/29/24)

Poppy Playtime (Edited: 5/3/24)

Portal (Edited: 4/11/23)

Puss In Boots (Edited: 3/23/24)

Random Hybrid HCs (to be merged) (Edited: 4/11/23)

Red Dead Redemption (Edited: 3/4/24)

Resident Evil (Edited: 10/24/23)

Rick and Morty (Edited: 8/17/23)

SCP (Edited: 4/11/23)

Silent Hill (Edited: 11/8/23)

Slashers (Edited: 5/10/24)

Small HCs/Concepts (Edited: 4/11/23)

Sonic The Hedgehog (Edited: 5/3/24)

South Park (Aged Up) (Edited: 6/28/23)

Spooky Month (Edited: 4/21/23)

Star Wars (11/15/23)

Steven Universe (Edited: 4/27/24)

Team Fortress 2 (Edited: 5/7/24)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Edited: 5/12/24)

Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun (Edited: 4/11/23)

Transformers (Edited: 11/17/23)

Twisted Wonderland (Edited: 4/8/24)

Uncategorized Fics (Edited: 3/3/24)

Undertale/Deltarune (Edited: 5/2/24)

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Edited: 5/27/23)

We Happy Few (Edited: 1/23/24)

Yandere OC Concepts (Edited: 10/3/23)

Main OCs (Edited: 4/11/23)

Xenophobic (Story) (Edited: 4/11/23)

Worse Than Zombies (Story) (Edited: 4/11/23)

Yandere Halloween Event 2021 (Edited: 4/11/23)

Yandere Halloween Event 2022 (Edited 4/11/23)

[sleepyems-15]

Yandere Cassidy x child reader (not romantic btw)

Okie dokie people have different opinions on mcree/Cassidy because of what happened. So other people will still call mcree/ Cassidy mcree and other will just call him Cassidy so I'm putting both names there because I'm not bothered about arguments.

I Also the reader is sick btw.

Characters: mcree/Cassidy and you

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You were in bed coughing and sneezing while mcree/Cassidy was in the kitchen making your favourite soup.your throat was dry, there was a burning pain in your stomach and it felt like you were going to throw up at any moment.

You whined in pain loud enough to make mcree/Cassidy to hear. "Don't worry darlin I'm coming" he shouted from the kitchen, he finished your soup and put it into a bowl that wasn't to big or to small.

He walked up the stairs. He opened up the door to see you in agony,he felt so sad seeing you in pain, he came over to your bed and kneeled down to you to give you your bowl of soup.

You whined once more. "I know darlin' it hurts" he said, "why can't I go to the hospital?" You whined he sighed at your question "you know that we can't".

You huffed "but I'm hurting". He spoon feed you your soup, you opened your mouth "I know, but remember that the bad people are trying to get you remember"

"...I know..." You muttered underneath your breath. you eat a couple spoonful of soup "is it alright?" He asked. You noded.

"I don't like being sick" you said "yea nethier do I sweetheart"

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Words counted: 280