#yandere short fic

[hana-no-seiiki]

REPLACED.

YANDERE! ROCKSTAR (FEROZE KHAN) x GN! MANAGER / PA ! READER x YANDERE! POP IDOL (JISOO HAN [EVE] )

FEROZE BELONGS TO MANAGER READER AND @moyazaika !! Just wanted to make a lil gift for my lovely moot 💋

[ Part 2 : REHEARSAL ]

You were absolutely terrified.

Lord knows how you were able to get the Feroze Khan to agree with collaborating, with a “goody two shoes” pop idol who flirted to hell and back with you, no less. But you just knew someone was going to get hurt by the end of this.

Eve used to be your client before you were dumped into the depths of hell. Aside from the flirtations and clinginess, he was a dream to work with as a manager. He never got into scandals, and he worked day and night to be the best in his craft. You never had to worry when it came to his career. You however, took that for granted and left him the moment you got a better deal. Getting to work with a junior idol vs a seasoned rockstar, the choice was obvious was it not?

Nope.

Eve making tons of songs about heartbreak only poured salt into the wound. You saw him as your little brother almost, it was hard seeing him grieve for your presence. You felt heartless. Guilt ate you up from the inside out. You were lucky he didn’t try contacting you after it all.

Until now.

heeeyyy there! beena while. you workin with Feroze at the moment right???

You squinted at the DM you received. As a manager you were used to dealing with all sorts of texts. Thirsty ones, death threats, collaboration requests. But none of them made your heart beat this quickly. Was it out of excitement, nervousness, or terror? You didn’t know.

I am.

short and straight to the point as always!! i’ve always loved that about you

∧,,,∧

(  ̳• · • ̳)

/    づ♡

take my love, wontchu?

You covered your mouth and squealed.

“The fuck?” Feroze looked up from his guitar at the noise you made. He had to admit it was cute but it did ruin a recording of his.

“Sorry, I’ll go outside.”

“No, stay. I need you here.”

You simply nodded, already used to his obsession with you at this point.

annyyyywaysss i just wanted to ask if you could secure a collab with me n mr. khan?

been tryin to get ahold of him but all i got back was radio silence 🥶

but i know if it’s you, the bestest manager ever, i’ll be able to collab with the bestest rockstar in the world!!

i’ll be a good boy i promise!! pretty please with a cherry and me on top?

Somehow you doubted that. But as your own self appointed protocol states, you must report the matter to your client.

“Feroze, you’ve got another collab request.”

“Was it the person that got you squealing?”

Oh no, you did not like his tone. Jealous Feroze was a monster to deal with. “. . . Yes ? “

“Go for it.”

“What? D-don’t you want to hear about their music style and what not before you—“

“I just have one condition. They have to come to me.”

And, you were doomed.

“Right. I’ll schedule a meeting.”

You stand corrected. They got along well. A bit too well for your liking. You didn’t have to stand awkwardly there while Feroze glared (as he usually does) at his collaborator. In fact they were even conversating! And it wasn’t small talk…

“Mr. Khan! You’re even dreamier up close.”

Your employer even seemed to be amused by Eve’s personality. “I could say the same for you, Eve right? Like the biblical Eve? And please, call me Feroze.”

“Yeah! They thought it’d be a nice call back to my more . . . type of music.“

“Type of music you say. . .”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, you bet I am.”

Why do you have a feeling you were being replaced?

YOU RECEIVED A SPECIAL POSTER!

Check it out?

[ ✅ YES ]

[ PART 2: REHEARSAL ]

tempted to make a bl/mlm spin off of these two fr fr

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | moyazaika | 2023

[darkbluekies]

Talking to the dead

Mafia!yandere x reader

Warnings: dead sibling, mentions of digging up the grave

He's furious that you've escaped. Infuriated that you managed to slip past the guards again. He wants to put a bullet through their chests. They've tracked you down to the cemetery, a weird place, Silas thinks.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sit by a tombstone, talking. There's no one around, who are you holding conversation with? He tells his men to stand by while he sneaks over.

"I'm in danger", you sob and chuckle slightly. "I've put myself in a dangerous situation, you know. I wish you were here. I could need a big sister/brother now. I need guidance. I don't know what to do, I'm so scared. Everything is terrifying." You sigh. "Well, now I've told you everything that has happened since you passed away. Quite the story, isn't it? Yeah ... I really miss you."

Silas sighs and scratches his neck, looking back at his guards, thinking. He knew that your sibling was dead, but he never imagined that he would find you like this.

"Y/N", he says carefully, wanting to catch you attention.

You gasp and hug the stone for dear life.

"Don't take him/her!" you scream in a heartbreaking tone.

Silas walks over to you, sinking down beside you. His heart breaks.

"I'm not going to take them", he reassures you. "Why don't you introduce me? Or have you already done that? I heard you told everything."

You still hug the stone tightly. Silas puts his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that he won't dig up the grave and steal your sibling. He brings you back and takes a look at the name on the stone before placing his hand on it. I'll protect them, he thinks and hopes that your big brother/sister will hear him, I will die for them.

Silas brings your shaking, sobbing body into his arms and kisses the top of your head. He won't punish you for this, his heart can't allow it.

While taking your defeated form to the car, he turns to his men and tells them to visit the grave every week to plant new flowers, water them, light candles, and clean the stone. And if they ever miss a week, he will kill them.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Let Me In

Yandere Francis Mosses (Doppelgänger) x GN Reader

Swish. Swish.

You leaned back as your foot steadily rocked the cushioned seat of your desk chair from side to side. It was yet another boring day of being the doorman for this apartment complex. Yet you couldn’t help the shudder run down your spine from time to time since you constantly felt under surveillance. Then again, perhaps you were going slightly insane from working such long hours in such a narrow space? There was no way someone would stalk you of all people… right?

You let out a low chuckle at your thoughts. You recently felt as if your days melt together. It was the same routine every single day. Stop the doppelgängers from entering the apartment complex. Check their IDs and entry requests. Call their room. You were tired of this consistent repetitive pattern! You wanted some excitement for once-

“Hello.” You jumped to attention when a handsome man stood before you. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head at the blood that stained his face. Was it macabre of you to find that attractive. “I just got off work and I’d like to call it a day in my apartment.”

“Y-you have a little.” Your breath hitched when he wiped the blood off with his thumb and gave you the faintest of smiles.

“Ah. I hadn’t realized I made a mess earlier. Thank you.” The man then handed you his ID and entry request. Francis Mosses was it? He was indeed a looker and his ID checked out… but he wasn’t on today’s list.

“I’m sorry, Francis. You’re not on the list today-“ you scream when he slammed his hands on the window. His half-lidded eyes now wide open and bloodshot. This man no longer looked like an angel, but rather a demon. A demon that would no doubt rip you apart and swallow you whole.

“I’m not on the list? I’m sure you could let me in.” You quickly push the emergency button but his large hands grab the metal doors before you can shut them completely. You gulp when you spot the veins bulging from his gray hands. “Haven’t you been bored lately? You always look so lonely at your desk… I’m sure I could show you a good time.”

Well, Francis wasn’t wrong- no! You can’t endanger the residents! You dialed the D.D.D’s number with haste which made the doppelgänger sigh.

“Fine! Have it your way.” Francis casted you one last look. “But I will be back. And you will let me in. Remember, I’m always watching.”

You deflated like a ballon and sunk back into your chair. Your body felt as if your bones had completely melted from how scared you were… you’ve never encountered such an aggressive doppelgänger before…

“You have contacted the D.D.D. A group of agents has been sent to your building.” The garbled voice on the other end of the line brought you back down to reality.

You sighed and leaned forward to put your face in your palms. What on earth did Francis mean that he would always be watching?

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

Petty mc #4

*everyone playing the guessing game in HOL*

MC: alright guys guess who am I?

Everyone: okay!

MC: *starts to slouch* ""yeah Lilith died because of God , now I'll never forgive humans , even though they have nothing to do with it!!"" *Starts to fake strangle themselves*

Everyone:

MC: alright guess now that was a pretty good acting !

Belphie: *sweating* I don't like this game anymore.....

[untoldstar]

male yandere psychologist x fem patient reader [introduction]

warnings: heavily implied that the reader is a patient at a psych ward, obsessive behaviors and tendencies, abuse of power, toxic environment, yandere themes, might not show in this part but for the future Ivan takes advantage of the readers vulnerable mental state.

There aren’t intense scenes in this at all (as I see it) BUT as for the coming parts of this OC it still has to do with a character who struggles with mental illness, an extremely toxic psychologist who abuses his position and being in a psyche ward so if you feel like any of that sounds triggering or there’s a possibility it could be triggering I would urge you not to read this or other parts of this OC.

pls be careful what you read guys and stay safe mwah🫶

Tick..

Tick..

Tick..

Ivan taps his foot impatiently and pushes up his sleeve for the millionth time to reveal his wristwatch.

2:59 PM

Just a few more seconds..

Tick..

3:00 PM

Ivan smiles, his stiff body finally relaxing and just like everyday a knock is heard on his office door and in walks the nurse pushing you forward like a criminal into his office. He only spares the nurse and nod and a polite smile before his attention is directed at you, focusing on your every move anticipating what you’ll do next. You huff and plop down in the chair in front of his desk rolling your eyes "Ah [name], how are we doing today?" he clasps his hands Infront of him and stares at you expectantly.

Just like everyday.

‘Why does he ask the same question every day? What could possibly change in the matter of a single day? They should've made these cheek-up's weekly instead this is becoming such a pain.’

"Fine. Just like always." you answer curtly. He hums nodding "Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut to the chase today there’s something I must discuss with you.” You quirk a brow. You have to admit seeing the serious expression instead of the easy going one he usually has is a bit unnerving “I'm sure you already know that your..leave is to be expected soon." his lips twist in displeasure as if merely saying that has left a bitter taste in his mouth. You nod "Yes..what about that?" he sighs "Well, I'm afraid I've come to the decision that you'll have to stay a while longer, just to be safe." Your heart plummets. Sure you haven't been kissing Dr.Ivan's ass or being necessarily..nice to him but that shouldn’t have anything to do with your treatment. You know you've been getting better so what possible reason could have you stay here "Just to be safe? What is that supposed to mean?" you shoot daggers at him but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it "We’ve witnessed many patients show signs of improvement and seem like they’re ready to leave but there were also many instances where patients leave our facility and end up..falling into old patterns. Not that I expect that from you but I would like to guarantee your safety." You swallow the lump in your throat. Can they even do that? Is that even legal? "..How long?" a few beats of silence passes by while he blankly stares at you before answering "A month." Your shoulders drop down exasperatedly. Another month??

You feel frustration bubble up inside your chest. You feel hopeless as if you’re never getting out of here. You can’t take it you can’t take seeing the same hallways the same people this same fucking office everyday.

You don't say anything when you get up from your chair and start charging for the door "Our daily check up isn't quite done, my dear." His voice booms behind you "I don't fucking care." You spit back and go to reach for the door when his hands suddenly slam the door on either side of you, trapping you against it "Why are you always trying to leave me?" he whispers his shaky breath fanning against the side of your neck "..What are you talking about..Doc-" his hand clenches into a fist "Don't call me that!" You flinch trembling slightly "..I'm sorry I raised my voice, but I've told you countless times before you don't have to call me 'Doctor' my dear. Ivan is fine." You stay quite and he sighs "You won't even say my name.." he leans his head on your shoulder his body slumping almost exhausted from the interaction.

You hold your breath eyeing the door handle inches away from you "Why do you hate me so much?" his voice almost breaks "You roll your eyes at me, you barely say a few words in our daily sessions, You can't stand it when I go to visit you in your room.." he steps closer, his body now flush against your back "You throw a fit and almost walk out on me.." he moves his head to the side sniffing your heart and you hear him let out a groan “God I thought you’d be happy about staying here. All I want is for you to love me. Why won’t you love me? hm?” his arms slide down for the door to wrap around you squeezing tightly “Am I just the annoying psychologist your forced to talk to? Is that all I am to you?” he keeps talking almost in his own world too intoxicated by you, having you in his arms body flush against his your scent enveloping him “Damnit why won’t you-“ you take advantage of his vulnerability and decide to make a run for it, using the door to push back all of your body weight to at least have his arms off of you immediately taking a hold of the door handle and leaping out of his office, you run down the hall never looking back. You’re surprised he didn’t pull you back in maybe he was shocked maybe he wasn’t and he just..let you go. Whatever the case was you had to get as far away from him as possible.

Ivan’s left alone in his office panting, cheeks flushed and an obvious tent in his pants. He lets out a low chuckle looking far off into the hallway ‘Soon..i read of running away from me you’ll be running to me. I’ll make sure of it darling.’

[on-leatheredwings]

Intro Post: PARIS ♡ the femboy! yandere (pinboard) tw: dark themes, somno mention

Written Content: (coming soon)

Intensity: 4/10. MILD. As a yandere at all, he is of course enamored with you. He gets easily riled about you, but unlikely to injure, heavily drug, or be violent with you. He would get violent with others if needed, but prefers to publicly humiliate his rivals. His obsession mainly presents through excessive quality time, manipulation and mildly assaulting you in your sleep. Age: mid or late 20s. He's a Libra. Gender: Cisgender male. Pronouns are he/him, though he will answer to she/her (and later correct that individual). He enjoys when you call him princess, though. And only you. Sexuality: There's a lot of speculation on the internet, but he seems to prefer women. Occupation: Paris is an American Olympic-level figure skater, and will likely retire after the next Olympic Games. He's not quite an internet personality, but his online popularity gets him a lot of brand deals.

General appearance: Paris is of Russian descent. He is relatively pale, with straight, mousy brown hair that reaches just above the waist. His eyes are brown. His lips are small, heart shaped and usually glossed. He is lean, but due to his sport, he does have a level of muscle tone greater than the average person. Paris is 180 centimeters tall (~5’10) with model-like proportions. His ears are pierced. Fashion sense: See board. Fond of hyper-feminine clothing, Paris’s wardrobe is an eclectic blend of coquette, gyaru, and figure skater fashion. Often wears pink, white, pastel blue or black. His clothes aren’t very revealing – he is quite fond of layering shirts and cardigans. He actually doesn’t wear skirts that often, opting more often for leggings. Paris wears false lashes often, and wears light, feminine makeup. Paris does wear masculine clothing, though only when he isn’t expecting to be photographed or seen in public.  As a male figure skater, on the rink, he is expected to ‘tone it down’ with the makeup and keep his hair tied back. During competitions and photoshoots, he presents more masculine, though still quite androgynous. His skating outfits possess a feminine flair.

Personality: Paris is fun-loving, boisterous, and goes through life like nothing phases him. (A facade, to be sure.) Paris strikes others as easy-going and snarky, but is pretty observant and manipulative. He definitely plays into his 'feminine wiles' schtick to get what he wants. However friendly he appears, Paris doesn't tolerate disrespect, and enjoys fighting fire with fire. He definitely enjoys humiliating people who cross him, and especially when they cross you. Paris is no stranger to off-color and lewd jokes, but would stop if you disapproved. Paris is notably much sweeter when talking to you. Romantically, Paris had a bit of a rotating door until you caught his eye. Within celebrity circles, he's kind of regarded as a player. He wasn't unkind to women... he just moved on fast, often bored. Which is something that does not seem to be happening with you. ♡

Bonus: Paris is really popular online! He's witty and pretty tuned into current social media trends. He's streamed on Twitch multiple times just for fun, and is always bombarded with gifts. None of his fans' love matters as much as you do, though. He appeals to younger, queer people especially.

[crybaby-bkg]

Gojo has always been a bit of a glutton. it’s his worst trait, you think, despite the many others that he inflicts upon you in your daily life. but, it’s just not enough for you. he does that with everyone, this kind, funny, flirtatious kind of banter. getou tells you he’s different with you, shoko makes note of how he’s really not like that with so many people.

but it’s not enough. so you start cooking up different things, these desserts intertwined with a certain potion that’ll make his attention be on solely you. you crush your flowers and sprinkle them into the boiling pot, sprinkle in a little bit of this and a dash of that, before you cut off a tiny piece of your hair and let it flutter into the concoction. it doesn’t let out a tuft of pink smoke in the shape of a heart, but you have faith that it’s gonna work.

“I’ll give you a piggyback ride if you let me have that,” Gojo tries to barter with you the next day he sees you, sitting under a tree and unwrapping the piece of cake that you had oh so conveniently whipped up. you pretend to think it over, unable to help your smile as you think about how easy this is going to be, before agreeing.

it happens over time, the effects of the love potion. first, Gojo becomes a bit more clingy. he hurries across campus to make sure that he’s able to walk you back to your apartment, carries all of your bags for you. then he starts buying you all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily need (do you want breakfast?, do you need a new laptop?, can I buy you a new bed?, can we break it in?).

and everything is great at first. you adore the attention, the grandeur way he asks you to be his partner, how he moves you in quick, loves you even quicker. but, after a while, it just becomes a bit…much.

his love is never ending, which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but his love is also—everything. it’s in every crevice of your body, every nook and cranny between the walls, every exhale you take. he’s there—always just there—always just close and lingering and clingy (where are you going? can I come with you? why are you looking at me like that? don’t you love me? I love you, I love you so much, so where are you going?)

it’s not until you’re suffocating that you realize your mistake, all too late. Gojo is all encompassing, takes up all the space in your head and your line of vision and your breaths and the blood that flows in your veins. he loves you—this was what you wanted, right?—but you never wanted this, this obsession that bleeds from his very being every second that he’s near you, which is every second of every single fucking day. you never wanted any of this.

“Baby?” Gojo calls from the other side of the locked door, clawing at it like some forlorn house cat even though you know he could take it down if he so pleased. “Are you almost finished? I miss you,” his voice is a plead, as if his heart is shriveling up in his chest with every second he’s not pressed against you.

with a sigh, do you finally lift yourself from the corner of the bathroom floor, unfolding your limbs with a groan. you don’t dare look at yourself in the mirror, fearing the image of the hollowed person that is bound to stare back at you. with hesitation, do you finally unlock the door. you don’t even have to pull it open before Gojo is barging his way in, engulfing you in long arms that seem to wrap around you like some never ending boa constrictor.

“You’d never try to leave me, right? Because you love me so much.” Gojo says into your hair, his voice one that tries to convince you of its truth. and there is some there, along with the guilt of ruining him in this grotesque way that you have no other choice but to accept and live with until it suffocates you.

“Yeah.” your murmur, sinking into his body, let him hold you so close, you think you can feel his veins pulling at his skin to intertwine with your own. “Yeah, I love you, Satoru.”

(he doesn’t dare tell you that he knew all about that little potion you whipped up, how it never had any actual affect on him for more than just a couple hours. but this was what you wanted, right? for him to love you? so why not continue to just love you in his own way that’s somehow, convincingly, all your fault? why not let you take the blame for his greediness? you wanted this, right? right?)

[ilikesillythings]

Hiyaaa would be able to do a luciferxreader please?

" Just a bump in the road, I'm sure.. " Lucifer x Reader

Tws; mentions of violence, stalking, yandere Lucifer FLUFF

You and Lucifer had just gotten into a fairly.. bad argument. Usually you refrained from arguing with your lovely boyfriend, but..

He had seriously injured one of you friends for 'giving you lovey eyes'. At first it was just you expressing how you thought he was too overprotective, then he ended up admitting to stalking you. All the time. Yeah, not a good move on his end.

"Baby..?" You heard your boyfriend call from the other side of your shared room, voice laced with sorrow, and concern, "I'm.. really sorry, I was dumb- and.." he trailed off, and for a moment you swore you could hear him quiety weeping. With a sigh, you called out, "Come in."

Not even a minute passed before the door flung open, a desheviled, guilty looking Lucifer rushing in and throwing his arms around you, sobbing words of apology. "Oh, Luci'.." You mumbled, sighing softly

As much as you wished to remain upset with him -- how could you? He obviously felt like shit for beaking your trust, and was willing to make amends, of course you'd have to go through boundries.. but perhaps that could wait until you calmed your boyfriend down.

Gently, you pulled Lucifer into your lap, "Are-" He began, hiccuping, "Are you still mad at me..?" was his next words, spat out almost pathetically. But, it was that stupid charm that made you adore the fallen angel. "..Yes." you replied with a nod, "What you did.. everything, it was wrong, decietful, and creepy. But, I still love you."

Lucifer's eyes lit up at the last part of your words, "Oh, starshine!!" he exclaimed, kissing your cheek repeatedly, "I'll never stalk you again-- I swear, I swear!". You chuckled at his enthustastic reply, and he kissed your cheek a few more times, now grinning broadly

"How about I take you out somewhere nice!?" he suggested, clearly trying to 'redeem' himself, atone for his bad actions. You thought for a moment, "Hmm.. depends, where?"

For a second, Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, as if he already knew a place. "Crap.. I was gonna suggest Ozzie's, but you're a sinner.." he sighed, running a hand through his blond hair, "I don't really care where we go.. how about you cook something for me?" you returned, hopefully.

He gasped and in swift movements stood, eagerly nodding, before dashing off, out of the room.

Lucifer was a creepy, charming, pathetic man. But he was your creepy, charming, pathetic man, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Neither would you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 15 all chapters

AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING

-You wake with a pounding head, and total uncertainty if your adventure the night before had all been a dream.

Did John actually tie you up with his belt? And did you beg like a hungry little kitten for his cock?

And he didn’t give it to you?

Jesus fucking Christ.

You know you’d sensed all along that there was something dark swimming beneath the surface in Mr. Wick, but you’re not quite sure this was what you expected.

You look down at the little purple bruise on the inside of your thigh, and you know it had all been real.

A hot flood of embarrassment fills you as you remember more from the night before. You are mortified, and frankly, a little scared. You’re not sure you can actually handle a man with tastes like Mr. Wick’s, and you also know that once you’re in his company again you won’t be able to think anything through, or frankly, deny him anything he wants.

He has this drug-like effect on you. You would like to blame the wine for the night before, but deep down, you know that mostly it was just hunger.

You could easily forget who you really are, caught up in the web of a man like John.

The first hint of morning light is peeking over the rooftops. You know that if you are going to make your escape, this is undoubtedly your best opportunity. You tie back on your shoes, preparing yourself for the worst walk of shame you’ve ever endured. Even with your new found flexibility, you are only able to get the zipper of your dress half up your back.

Motherfucker.

The morning concierge gives you a knowing look as you walk through the lobby, and you narrowly resist the urge to flip him off.

How ironic, that the day that you want to flee this beautiful city with your tail tucked between your legs, is the day you finally seem to get your bearings. You make your way back to your hostel, taking off your platforms and carrying them half way. When an early morning wanderer tries to hit on you, you finally snap, yelling at him in a mixture of English, Spanish, and broken Italian, so furious that he’s actually the one who flees. You catch the word pazza, which you think means crazy.

He has no idea.

When you get back to the hostel, hallelujah if the fucking door isn’t unlocked this fine morning. How novel.

Your beautiful dress is wrinkled from sleeping in it. You hang it up anyway, and hope no one steals it. You pound two Aleve from your toiletry bag with some stale water, and think a hot shower might fix some of your ills.

Too bad the water heater is only set to tepid. You wash away the grime, but not your anxieties.

You go to breakfast, completely stuck in your own head, when you hear, “Y/n?”

You look up to see Javi sitting at one of the tables with a cornetto and a cup of the weak coffee the hostel provides for free.

You offer him a tired smile and sit down across from him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s a little touching that he knows you so well after only a short time in his company.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I had a…weird night.”

That’s when Kelsey, the Australian girl who helped you with your zipper the night before, saunters up with a shit eating grin. “There she is. Noticed you didn’t come home last night. How was your date?”

“It was…something,” you answer with what you know isn’t a convincing smile. “I’m tired,” you try to cover.

Javi is still looking at you, like he doesn’t believe any of what you’re saying.

Knowing you will not be able to process any of what just happened to you in the boisterous bustle of the backpacker hostel, you eat a quick bite and rise. “Think I’m going for a walk,” you say.

“I’ll join you,” offers Javi, and you can’t figure out how to say no without hurting his feelings.

You walk out the front door together, chatting about something silly. He manages to make you laugh, until you look across the street. Your mirth dies like a bird struck with a stone.

John is there, leaning against the building like a tall dark omen, and he does not look happy. He stalks over to you, giving Javi a forbidding look before turning to you.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that. I was worried.” There is something chilling in his tone. It reminds you a bit of the way he’d scolded Brian that one day, but times ten. Somehow, his teeth seem sharper in this tense moment in the buttery Venice sunlight. 

 “I’m a big girl, John.”

John glares at Javi again, but the younger man stubbornly stays at your side, not taking the hint. “We need to talk,” says John, taking your elbow.

“You don’t have to go with him,” says Javi with a frown, grasping your other arm. You feel like you’re stuck between two dogs with a bone, and it’s too much.

“Both of you, let go of me,” you snap.

Miraculously, this does the trick, though goddamn if there isn’t something like murder glinting in John’s eyes as he does it.

If you weren’t in public on a crowded street, you have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked at all.

“I am going for a walk. Alone. Thank you, Javi, you’re very sweet. John, should I choose to talk to you, I know where you’re staying.”

You turn on your heel, and flee down the street.  

[devildom-moss]

LOVE your works !!!!!! i adore how everytime u write, it just kind of turns into a very subtle character study (at least that's what i'm getting) it's vvv nice and the kind of writing im into <33

it's gmt for me so idk if i'm way past the cut off and this might be an odd request btw but a reader refusing lucifer and belphie's offer of a pact after yk... everything lol. it's up to u if the reader eventually accepts but i want it to hurt 🤌🏻

Thank you so much, that's so sweet. I hope you will see your request since I'm taking so long, and I hope you like it. I hope its got enough angst and hurt. I think they have two different types of hurt in it. Lucifer's has more of his pain and Belphie's has more of the reader's pain.

Rejecting their pact offers

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive for Belphegor) (angst) (hurt; pain; implied physical and emotion harm to reader; slight yandere!Belphegor; Belphie is really creepy in this with some non-consent elements regarding touching/kissing)

Word Count: +2,000

Lucifer

You dreaded spending time alone with Lucifer, so you were displeased to receive a message from him – and even more unhappy that it had arrived, coincidentally, just as you had finished your assignment, when you were looking forward to being able to unwind. Your hopeful plans were crushed by an arrogant invite:

Lucifer: Meet me in my study once you’re free. Alone. Don’t keep me waiting.

Your first instinct was to pretend that you were busy all night and didn’t have time for whatever he wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy your night if you were constantly on guard and worried about your leisure being interrupted. You could pretend you didn’t read it – after all, you turned your read receipts off specifically because of Lucifer. You could wash up and head straight to bed, sacrificing your free time for the sake of avoiding Lucifer. But avoiding him would only result in his nagging the following morning, and he had already ruined your night, so you might as well safeguard your morning peace by appeasing him. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be quick and painless. With a sigh, you reluctantly dragged yourself in the direction of his study.

You knocked at the door despite it being open ajar.

“MC, please enter,” Lucifer spoke up. He knew it was you; his brothers never knocked. You heard the shuffling of paper and the creaking of his desk chair as you opened the door fully. “You’re slightly earlier than I expected. I’m glad to know that your studies are not giving you any trouble – or at least, I suspect that’s why you’re here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you answered him shortly. He seemed flustered by your presence – which would be entertaining outside of the current situation. You stood in the doorway, watching Lucifer collect his papers and tidy his workspace before walking over. His looming figure inched closer, but you stood your ground. “Did you need something from me, Lucifer?”

“Right. Please take a seat. Can I pour you a glass of Demonus? I’ve acquired a new bottle from Diavolo, and I’ve been looking forward to trying it. I’d like to open it with you.” Lucifer walked over to his bar; pulled a bottle from the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a taxidermy raven; and grabbed two clean glasses.

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” The sound left him so quietly, you weren’t certain he had intended for you to hear it. He put one of the glasses back, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and poured himself a drink. “Suit yourself.”

“Was that all?” Your eyes wandered the room. You hadn’t been in here for a while, and the last time was not particularly ideal.

“Of course not!” Lucifer looked away indignantly. “I wouldn’t call you to my study just for a drink. I have something important to discuss.”

“Alright.”

Lucifer took a sip of his drink before speaking again; his subtle delays – the slow draining of your time and patience – annoyed you. “You’ve impressed me over the last few months, and you’ve managed to make pacts with each of my brothers. I believe you’ve proven yourself worthy of a pact with me. That is, so long as we make one thing clear: if we form a pact, I own you. I don’t care who else you’re entangled with, you’ll be mine.”

“No. I’m good.” You shook your head to accentuate your response.

“What?” Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tightened, and the glass in his hand formed a superficial crack. His eyes widened. Shock and anger fed off each other as Lucifer sat there speechless.

“I don’t trust you,” you admitted. Somehow, you were thrilled to finally have the opportunity to tell Lucifer how you truly felt.

“After everything we’ve been through together?” Lucifer scoffed. He thought he had proven himself to you. He’d come so far since the last time he had tried to hurt you. He thought you were both past this – that you meant more to each other by now.

“No, Lucifer, after everything you did to me.” You sat up from the chair, rage rising with you. You had done nothing but try to help him and his family, and he had done nothing but hurt you. Even when he had saved you, it was usually for his own selfish reasons. By the time he had developed this strange infatuation with you, you had no trust left to give him. You had no foreseeable interest in furthering a relationship with him – especially not after the pompous way he asked you.

“MC, please, be reasonable. You know very well why I reacted the way I did at the time. You’re a part of my family now,” Lucifer pleaded with you desperately, trying to show you his version of reason. He grabbed your wrist and clung to you tightly, afraid to let you leave. “I won’t hurt you like that again. I promise. I adore you much too much.”

“Lucifer,” you half-sighed, half-winced, “let go. You’re hurting me right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer apologized. He quickly let go of you and brought his hand back to his chest, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please. . . I’ve never offered this to a human before.”

You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, it trembled on his vocal cords and shook his breath. It was his last resort to persuade you: to show you that he had never been this vulnerable, and he didn’t know how to handle your rejection. You knew he needed you to accept his offer – or at least consider it. Anything except rejection would be survivable.

“Please?” Lucifer begged softly; his cheeks flushed with shame.

“Just because I’m your first and you might have changed, it doesn’t mean I have to accept your offer.”

Belphegor

You could have sworn that you had locked your door before heading to bed last night – and no one could blame you for still feeling a bit cautious after the events that occurred a few weeks ago. Yet, you were disturbed by the creaking of your bedroom door – if it hadn’t been unlocked before, it certainly was now. The soft shuffle of exhausted demon feet creeped towards your bed. You gulped and inched closer to the wall, hoping your eyes would adjust, and you would see Mammon. Maybe he had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Asmo, and he was lonely. Maybe Beel got lost on his way back from the kitchen – and hopefully not on his way towards the kitchen.

“Sleepy,” a soft voice muttered, and your hope plummeted. Fear spiked, prickling up your spine as you felt Belphegor crawl into bed next to you. His hands pat the bed gently, searching for your body, feeling for your warmth. He whined, “MC, hold me.”

“Sleep in your own bed, please.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice trembled at the last word. Maybe it was fear, but maybe your own lips could hardly stomach the thought of begging a demon like Belphegor to let you sleep in peace. After everything he did, why did he think he had the right to break into your room in the middle of the night and crawl into your bed?

“Too far now, and I want to sleep with you.”

Against your will, Belphie wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder. He nuzzled into you, taking in your scent with a deep, calm inhale. A gentle hum left him.

It was infuriating, the way he relaxed against you while your body tensed with an overflow of negative emotions: anger, annoyance, anxiety. It wasn’t fair that he could drift peacefully to sleep, clinging to you, after everything he did. You wished he would stop – that he would let you go and return to his room, shutting the door on his way out. You’d make sure it was locked this time; you’d double check it and put a curse on it if you had to.

“I was thinking,” Belphegor hummed mindlessly without even opening his eyes. He practically sounded happy. “We should make a pact.”

Your blood boiled, and you stared at his restful form in the dark. “No, Belphegor. I don’t want a pact with you.”

“Why not?” he started, eyes shooting open to stare at you in disbelief for a brief moment before he remembered. He lowered his eyes and attempted to bury his face against your arm. “Don’t answer that.”

“You know why.” There was spite in your words – so bitter that Belphegor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to.

Suddenly he felt he had to do something, and before you could understand what was happening, Belphie had tackled you, pinning your hands down at your sides and straddling your lap. The dim glow of his amethyst eyes soaked up all the light in the room when he stared down at you. His grip on your hands wasn’t tight, but a familiar fear clawed at your throat, cutting back your desire to protest.

“Hush. Relax. I’m not a threat anymore. I love you. I want you. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to hurt you again, I would have done it already, so please, please don’t be scared. I need you. Come on, accept a pact with me, please?” The light from his eyes disappeared from your sight as he dipped down. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily, his warm breath tickling your skin. From anyone else, this might have felt loving and affectionate, but from Belphegor, it seemed cruel – as if he was kissing where his hands might have bruised like some panacea that came too late. “Please? Don’t make me keep begging.”

“Get off!” Your voice came back to you in a frightened yelp, still hushed in the dark of night. You struggled and writhed beneath him. The panic was setting in.

“You’re scared?” Belphie questioned, almost surprised by his effect on you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, but you had them shut tight. “Hey, look at me. I told you I loved you. Don’t be scared.”

“Let me go, Belphegor.” You lifted your arms slightly, only for him to force them back down.

“Form a pact with me,” he insisted. He kissed just above your collarbone, allowing his lips to linger on your skin. “If we had a pact, you could control me. I can feel your pulse pounding; I know you’re scared, but if we make a pact, you’ll never have to be afraid of me again.”

“I’ll scream, Belphegor. I swear,” you warned.

“Shh,” Belphegor let go of one of your hands to cover your mouth. He held your gaze with a delusional sweetness. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, praying for someone to barge into your room and end this. Belphegor cooed, “I promise I won’t ever hurt you again. I know that will take time to prove, but I need you now. I need that connection to you. I crave it, and I can’t let my brothers be the only ones to stake their claim on you. And until you want me and trust me, a pact will give you reassurance. You’ll never have to worry about being alone with me. If I act out, I’ll be under your spell – in more ways than one. I just want to keep you safe. Can’t you understand that? Make me yours.”

You knew he had a point about control, but it didn’t make you want him. Still, when he removed his hand from your mouth, the fear and anxiety that remained spoke for you. “. . . Fine.”

“Yay.” Belphie giggled and kissed you sleepily, caressing along your cheek and neck. He hummed and stared down at you, trapped beneath him. With your eyes finally more accustomed to the darkness, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lower lip. “You know, I’m not so tired anymore. Let’s stay up all night and make the pact more official. I’ll even let you mark me.”

[dxmoness]

─────── YOU'RE HERE WITH ME. . .

━━━━ dion agriche. manhwa. twtpflob

‣ fluff with a twist ending! no warnings . ୨:୧

‣ masterlist . recent works . dion agriche ━━━━

Dion wakes up, the feeling of something heavy on his chest was unmistakable. It was her, his beautiful darling.

A smile appears on his lips as he leaned and kissed her soft skin. This caused her to wake and stare at him. His red eyes show joy in them as his hand runs through her hair, his fingers working their tangles.

"Mine..." He whispered sweetly as he kissed her passionately.

She smiles at him as his darling stands up and walks maybe she was going to make their food. He stretched his hands before he gets up to follow her.

His arm wraps around her as he buries his face in her neck, taking in her scent. The scent that drove him mad.

"What are you making?" He peeks to see her mixing batter. Thirty minutes later, both of them sat eating the muffins she made for them with some tea paired up with it.

Then he helps her out their cottage. This is where he retreated after all the chaos with his family. The place where he and his darling could stay without anyone from his family attempting to murder her.

He watches as she goes to tend to one of their flower patches. A small smile appears on his lips as he steps forward to her. He kneels next to the crouching female, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair back in place.

After tending to the plants, the two went horseback riding. Dion behind her, arms wrapped protectively around the female's waist. They took four laps through the normal trail before his darling starts going around random directions. Since he knew this forest well he allowed her to do what she wished. Then the two went back to the cottage where they ate lunch and lay together on the bed for rest.

Now it was evening, they were both on the sofa now. His head on her lap while she read. He, on the other hand, remained quiet and watched her. She was even more beautiful in the moonlight.

The two of them did this routine everyday. Eat breakfast, tend to the garden, horseback riding, eat lunch, nap together, eat dinner, read together or play games. Then it ended with sleeping together.

Now he comes back to his old home. His hand still on his darling's as he enters. Roxana greets him, not warmly but not coldly either. There is a certain tone to her voice as she speaks. "Is something wrong, Dion?"

"Name, don't run now..." Then a flash of alarm appears on Roxana's normally cold facade. "Dion?" "Yes?" "Did you say 'Name'?" "Yes, why?"

"Name died during the battle of our house years ago..."

─────── NOTE?!

haha...

© dxmoness 2023. don't repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

─────── iNViTATiONS?!

@d10nsaint , @dion-s-lawyer , @dreamlessnight

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! SIGMA: I am married to my job. I am sexually attracted to the amount of success and money I attain from my career. Nothing could ever deviate me from my—

READER: *exists*

YANDERE! SIGMA: BEGONE FOUL DEMON OF TEMPTATION ! ! ! *proceeds to grope reader while feigning a gag*

[darkbluekies]

Only Mine

Mafia leader!yandere OC x Y/N

Summary: you're falling apart and the only one that can help you is the very same mafia leader that caused you this fright. You refuse to ask him for help. But when you get desperate, you seem to have no other choice.

Warnings: threats, manipulation, slightest hint of suggestive, mentions of death, possessiveness

Word count: 0.8k

The nights when you can't sleep are the worst. You hate the feeling that grow in your chest everytime it happens. You need someone's arms around you to avoid you falling apart. Bits and pieces of you are flaking off, fragments falling to the wooden floor. What happens if you wait too long? Will there be nothing left of you? What shell is it thats falling off? The one that resists Silas? Or the one that makes you, you. Whatever part of you it is, you don't want to lose it. You'll have to call for him.

Shakily you pull yourself out of the comforting satin sheets and head for the door. Trying to open it is no use. It's locked. However, you know that there are two guards on the other side. Silas has your safety on the top of his priority lists. He's an odd character you can't understand. Maybe you don't want to. Instead, you knock gently, regretting it right away. Too late to back out now.

"Yes, miss?" one of the guards asks as he meets your pleading, shameful eyes.

"I-I ...", you start, but close your mouth again. Your cheeks burn.

"Are you alright?" the other guard asks

"I need to see Silas."

"You can't, the boss is in a meeting-"

Panic starts to fill your body. You have to see Silas! Who knows how long you have until every piece of you have disappeared? It's pathetic and you know it, but you can't stop it. Your fogged up mind needs someone to hold before you break and the only one you know in this house is Silas. Those weeks down in the basement really messed you up.

"I have to meet him!" you raise your voice.

"That isn't possible."

You try pushing yourself through the two unreasonable men. They grab you and push you back. You're not going to leave the bedroom. Their fingers bury in your skin.

"Let me go!" you shout. "Don't touch me!"

"Get back in your room now-"

"What's going on here?"

The voice makes the three of them look towards the end of the corridor. Silas is walking towards them like a giant. His body language alone is enough to frighten them.

"Let my girl go or I'll cut your hands off", Silas warns them.

They let you go at once. You stumble backwards and start walking back into the bedroom. You run your hand through your hair and take a deep breath. Silas pushes through into the bedroom, giving the guards a nasty look. He closes the door behind him, muttering something about them not going to live long. You suddenly feel bad and that your own worries doesn't matter as much. It suddenly feels so stupid to risk the guards lives just because you're a pathetic little bitch.

"What happened, baby?" the mafia leader asks and walk over to you. "Why did you need me?"

"I just feel ... lonely ... I guess ...", you mutter. "But now I kind of regret it all. You're not actually going to hurt them, right?"

"Of course I will. They laid their filthy hands on you."

"They tried to stop me from leaving the room you told me to stay in."

Silas sighs and rolls his eyes. You sit down on the bed and tilt your head slightly, finding it amusing how he can't take his own words.

"Don't look at me like that, little girl unless you want to end up in the basement again", he warns.

You look down in your lap again and swallow. Silas walk over to you and sink down on his knees in front of you. He leans his head on your knees and looks up at you.

"What did you want?" he asks with a playful hint in his eyes. "Do you want me to make you feel good? Have you finally come to your senses?"

"That was not it."

"It wasn't?"

He seems genuinly surprised. You fumble over your words. Why would he think ...?

"I want a hug", you say.

"A hug? That's easy."

He stands up and embraces you in his strong arms. You hate how he makes you feel at ease for now, hate how he's gotten into your head. You lean your head against his shoulder. Tomorrow, you'll resent him again, you promise yourself. But for tonight, you need him close to fill the horrifying void in your heart. Tomorrow, you'll come to your senses.

"My pretty girl", he murmurs against your hair. "Only mine. Say it. Say that you're only mine."

"I'm only yours", you whisper, not believing your own words but say them to avoid pain.

"And the fuckers that try to take you from me will be heavily punished. No one touches what's mine. Look at you, so sweet and fragile. I knew I made a right choice taking you." He caresses your hair. "Just sleep, baby. I will hold you."

And that's where you fall asleep that night. You hope it'll be the last time you fall asleep in his arms, but you know it won't. Now that he's understood that you need him for something else rather than pleasure, he will make sure to treasure you like you were his own little porcelain doll. Only safe in his arms.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Knight in Shining Armor

Yandere Monster Knight x Princess Reader

TW: delusional Yandere, Yandere behavior, kidnapping (mentioned), etc.

Ajax had always been princess (your name)’s confidant and source of solace… so why did he have her cornered on the bed of the inn? His large, muscular frame towered over her as his body trembled.

“I can’t do it… I can’t let you marry some other man.” Ajax whispered, his metal mask hiding his expression. There was no doubt in (your name)’s mind that he was shaken up about something. She had no clue why he’d be so upset about her getting married…

“Ajax, it was bound to happen eventually. It’s my duty as the kingdom’s princess-“ (your name) gasped when he closed the distance between them. Ajax’s large palms pulled her into a tight hug. The force of the hug caused them both to land on the small bed with a soft plop.

“Ajax-“ Ajax placed a finger on (your name)’s lips to pause her words.

“I won’t allow it… I won’t allow some other man to sully you.” Ajax’s deep voice made her body anxiously shake. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so many years…”

“Ajax-“ (your name)’s eyes widened when he finally removed the mask that’s concealed his face for over a decade. Ajax was half orc? (Your name) hadn’t a clue and she had been with him for so many years…

“I’m half monster, I thought you knew.” Ajax chuckled as his crimson eyes flitted over (Your name)’s frozen form. She was now a helpless lamb trapped in the maw of the wolf. “It’s why the other knights have been so cruel to me… why the maids avoid me like the plague and your father wanted to send me to war.”

(Your name)’s eyes can only take on his scarred and burned face in shock. Why was half the skin on his mouth missing and his tusks filed down? Who had hurt him so much that he didn’t confide in her, his best friend? What atrocities had he faced while she remained none the wiser?

(Your name) were shocked when he bent down to show you his teeth. His tusks were clumsily filed down to almost look like teeth but they were still rather sharp. “I did the tusk work, but they grow back rather quickly. The skin on my face is still healing from when there was an assassination attempt on you from your future husband’s concubines. Bastard was going to pour acid on your face.”

(Your name) reached up to trace the scars on his face while Ajax gave her a soft smile. “Ajax…”

“You’re the only one who’s never treated me like a monster… you’re so wonderful and kind.” Ajax moved his large, gloved hands to hold her hands. “That old king doesn’t deserve you. No one does!”

(Your name) blushed when Ajax brought her hands up to his lips to press tender kisses over each of her knuckles. Despite how badly Ajax wished to ravish her, he must keep his composure.

“You took this amount of damage for me?” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it made Ajax melt into a puddle.

“Of course I did. I will do anything for you.” Ajax moved himself to crouch on the corner of the bed, his head in a slight bow. Yet (your name) could feel the burning obsessed behind his crimson gaze. “I am in love with you. Madly, deeply, entirely devoted to you and only you.”

Ajax grasped (your name)’s bare foot and brought it up to his mouth to press tender kisses across the top of it. “I will love you until my skin rots off my body and I am nothing but bones. Yet even death could not separate me from you for I will be in every corner of your life like a permanent shadow of protection. I will protect you with my entire being and soul. I will haunt and dismember your enemies if you so much as give them a glance of distaste.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold when Jax gave her a bright grin that reopened a few of the stitches across his cheeks. The blood dripped down his face and onto her foot, but he merely lapped it up with his longer tongue. “Now tell me… is what I feel not love? I may not be a handsome prince but I swear I’m your knight in shining armor.”

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

MC: *petting satan's head* You're beautiful....and capable of great things...

Satan: *holding a knife* .....like murder...

MC: *sweating* ...don't do that though....

Satan: unless it's completely necessary

.

.

.

Lucifer in the corner listening their talks: ......

[hwascripts]

A Yandere Love Letter From Lucifer

Warning: Before hitting “read more”, be aware this post mentions toxic behaviours, threats of violence, blackmailing, unhealthy relationships- over all just dark content. This is just a piece of fiction, I do not support or condone this behaviour in real life. Chapter 20 spoiler

Wanna see more stuff? Hit up my directory

(I had this sitting in my drafts for a good week. I’m finally almost done with the yandere love letter series)

Hello, Beloved

How has the human world been treating you? Surely not better than I would here in the Devildom. Tell me, have you been able to rest easy since you...” escaped” me? Has anything been troubling you, little one?

Honestly, beloved, I find it quite humourous that you thought you could get away from me. Really, darling? You, a helpless little human, escape me? The Avatar of Pride? What nasty little pest put that silly idea into your pretty little head?

Trust me when I say I would have found you a lot sooner if it weren’t for the fact Diavolo kept me busy preparing for his annual ball. While I do see your attempt at “escape” to be slightly amusing, I’m incredibly irritated, little one. Why? That worthless, useless oaf of a “Fiancé” as you called him, was bold enough to steal something that belonged to me.

In case you’ve forgotten, little one, the moment you stepped into my office and sealed that pact with me was when you signed your fate. I made that clear when I took you into my bed.

Now here’s how this is going to work, beloved. You’ll return to me, your rightful Fiancé, and you’ll be punished.

Trust me, little one, when I’m finished with you, you’ll understand that you belong to me and that I am your rightful lover.

Do not keep me waiting long, beloved. You won’t like what happens if you do.

Your soulmate,

Lucifer