yandere-dump

[yandere-dump]

Botched One Night Stand Yandere

Trigger Warnings - gore, violence, noncon/dubcon (they’re both really drunk/under the influence initially and there’s implications at the end), forced marriage, explicit sex scenes, there are cuss words (these warnings are for the work as a whole, like all the parts, so even tho this first part is mostly sfw I feel like I gotta tell u what ur getting into)

A/N: Sorry if this is horrendously formatted. This is my first post so tell me if I am doing smth wrong. Plz be nice abt it tho cuz fr I'm sensitive. Criticism is very welcome just please do a little compliment sandwich thnx

Usurper Yandere x Powerless Prince

Qing Simei woke up first, slowly sitting up in bed to avoid exacerbating his absolutely awful hangover. The pounding in his skull fucking hurt, and the sunlight streaming in from the window wasn’t doing him any favors. He did a big stretch, savoring the lovely release of tension from his back, before groggily rubbing at his eyes. Had he woken up late? The windows by his bed were all west-facing, so the direct sunlight to the face was somewhat unusual.

He turned to his left only to find an unfamiliar wall and—who was that? Mussed hair, kissable lips, and a massive amount of hickeys polka-dotting the man’s neck and shoulders. His eyes followed the path of soft, silky black hair as it flowed over the man’s chest and under the blanket where he could see the trail of hickeys continue underneath it all. Holy fuck he chewed this man up. What was he, an animal? His face was already burning in embarrassment at the sight. It only got worse as memories of the previous night began to resurface. Hot, sticky and lurid scenes from only hours before floated to the forefront as he tried to think of literally anything other than the handsome reminder of his mistake sleeping next to him.

He practically jumped out of his skin as the man groaned sleepily and proceeded to wrap those deliciously muscled arms around his waist. “Go back to sleep, sweet thing,” the man purred, causing Simei’s heart to leap into his throat. The lazy kisses on his stomach weren’t helping either, further distracting him from the pressing issue at hand. He prodded at the arm around his waist, “I need to go,” he muttered aloud. The man’s eyes snapped open. “You’re running off?” he said with an accusatory glare, grip tightening on his midsection.

“I’ll be back,” he searched for some kind of excuse, “I just want to wash up, I promise.” There was a pause, but the other seemed to believe him and let him slip out of his constricting hold.

He escaped from the curtained bed and feigned a relaxed walk towards the partition that hid the washbasin. Thankfully, he found his dark brown puddle of clothing behind the folding screen where he’d been bent over before they’d even made it to the bed. He hurriedly dressed himself, putting on his outer layers and belt before frantically tying up his hair so he wouldn’t look like a mess. Well, any more like a mess than he already did. If he had time he should at least check in the mirror for any visible hickeys. He quickly put on his shoes so he could take a sneaky glance back over the partition to gauge if the other man had caught on yet. He peeked over the thing, only to make direct eye contact with the other man who could probably only see the top of his head from their spot on the bed. That was enough, however, as his plans to flee were given away by the hastily placed hairpiece atop his haphazardly tied up hair. He froze, caught in the act. All those beautiful muscles tensed, and something primal in him instinctively knew he had to run. Just as the man lunged, he broke eye contact to clumsily scramble out the window.

He landed with a thud, the almost collision giving a poor vendor a terrible fright as he narrowly avoided skewering himself on sticks of candied fruit. Throwing out a half-baked apology, he saw his pursuer in his peripheral vision and bolted like a frightened deer. He ran as fast as he could, hoping to lose him within the sprawling streets of the capital. After taking a couple shortcuts through the winding streets, he made it to the palace walls. He scaled the wall with help from the great peach tree that grew inside, the pink petals raining down as his weight made the branches shake. He climbed down from the boughs just as one of the guards came around the corner.

“You!” the armed guard rushed over, “You’re in so much trouble, young man!” The older man dragged him along towards the emperor’s quarters. “Slinking about is unbefitting of a prince!” he scolded, “His Majesty had us searching the palace grounds all morning for your lousy ass!”

“Sorry, things, uh, kind of got out of hand,” Qing Simei responded sheepishly, “the plan was to be back by dawn.”

“Stick to the plan next time, wouldja? You nearly got my ass beat and the Crown Prince is already on edge with whatever shit the nobles got going on.”

He let go of his arm once the two of them reached the emperor’s chambers. A eunuch announced the arrival of the younger prince, who bowed low before greeting his father and brother. He kept his gaze riveted to the floor, fighting the wave of embarrassment that threatened to drown him. The soft clink of teacups being put down and the rustling of cloth were the only noises in the room.

“You may rise,” the emperor remarked, “Skulking about is unbecoming. Only a guilty man sneaks around like a rat.”

“Forgive me father,” he dropped to his knees, “I was careless. I should’ve acquired permission before leaving the palace.” His brother leveled a stern look at him.

“What was it that you were doing to warrant such secrecy?”

“I went out drinking…” an arched eyebrow implicitly asked him why he didn’t raid the palace’s wine store, “in a gambling den in the city.”

His father sighed, “Don't let the ruckus you caused today happen again,” but the disappointment in his tone was laced with something lighter. He gestured for them to leave the room, probably so he could have some time for himself since his morning was upturned by this fiasco.

The Crown Prince smoothly rose to his feet, “I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Qing Simei scrambled to his feet, having to take a second since the ground seemed to lurch beneath him for a moment. He hopped over the threshold and trotted after his brother, who was already making his way down the path with his hands clasped behind his back. “Sorry for worrying you and father,” he said sheepishly.

“At least tell me next time you decide to pull a stunt like this,” his older brother responded, “if I knew who you were with, this wouldn’t have happened. We were about to issue a citywide lockdown.”

“Are you saying you’d cover for me?” he gave the other an odd look.

“I’m not promising anything, but there are many who might seek to use you,” he pinched the younger’s cheek, “and if you did do something stupid, it’d be too late for us to bail you out of trouble.”

“Augh, I cut it out!” he grumbled, “I get it, I get it! I should’ve known better!” When he was released, he rubbed at his now pinker cheek and pouted. The Crown Prince coughed loudly in a poorly disguised attempt to hide his snort. He was about to retort when something in the corner of his eye made him freeze in his tracks. Hot mystery morning man was here, in the palace. He stood in the sunny courtyard, dressed in a glorious deep burgundy, and cutting a formidable figure with his stern expression. His sibling noticed his ogling, quirking an eyebrow and slowing down slightly so as to not leave him behind. Oh shit, he was being super obvious about it, wasn’t he? Ducking his head and hoping that the shadow of the shaded walkway would hide him, he sidled up to his brother.

“Who’s that in the red?” the other turned to look and he quickly covered his face hissing, “Don't tip him off!”

The Crown Prince rolled his eyes, “You’re the one kicking up a fuss. Are you talking about the one in the maroon with the black belt?”

“Yes that one!”

“Tong Xinjia?”

“Tong Xinjia? Shit!”

“How do you know him?” his brother’s eyes narrowed, his expression shuttering closed, “You’ve never taken an interest in politics before.”

“Uh, I was just curious,” he trailed off as he saw his brother’s dubious expression, “you’re not buying that are you?”

He briefly considered lying, but knew his brother would see through him immediately and assume that he and his mother’s family were looking to vie for the throne. “Okay, fine! I bumped into him at the gambling den, but I didn’t realize he was someone important!”

“You just happened to encounter them?” He wasn’t in the clear yet.

“He was pretty, okay? I didn’t know who he was! I’m never at Court meetings anyway so how was I supposed to know? You know I’m a sucker for a pretty face!” he explained, hiding the tinge of fear behind overblown exasperation.

“Well, avoid him in the future. His family is the head of the opposing faction and we can’t afford to have you be deceived by pretty lies,” his brother’s expression opened up again, and he could tell the wall had come down. He gave him a pat on the shoulder, stating, “I’ll find you a proper gambling buddy.”

“Oh no it’s fine—” he received a pointed look and deflated, “yeah, I suppose it would be a shame to let all your hard work go to waste.” It was no use fighting his brother on these matters anyway.

By then the two of them had arrived at his end of the palace compound. Hopefully they would part ways here and they could leave it at that.

“Good. Let’s get you some soup for your hangover as well.” Rather than leaving, the Crown prince proceeded to enter and began ordering around Simei’s servants.

“Oh no you really don’t have to…” he trailed off, futilely standing in the doorway, kind of hoping his brother would get the idea and leave.

The man in question was not picking up on the cues, perhaps purposely so. “It’s no issue, I have some time before my next meeting and it’s been a good while since we’ve talked.”

Qing Simei closed his eyes for a moment and fought the urge to sigh. Deep breaths, it’d be over soon. His brother would leave as soon as his suspicions were dispelled. He just had to humor him for a bit and then he’d get some lovely peace and quiet.

“Sit down, sit down,” the Crown Prince urged, “Have some tea while the soup is being prepared.”

Begrudgingly, he sat down beside his brother as he felt the sting of being treated like a guest in his own space.

[yandere-dump]

Fuck this shit I'm gonna hold myself accountable for once. I made this blog ages ago and by god I'm gonna fuckin use it.

I'm gonna post my shit by Saturday. No matter what.

If anyone else ever sees this uh this is ur sign bro post the silly goofy shit. Do it. Fuck waffling abt it. I wanna have a bunch of maybe half-baked stories rather than a whole bunch of concepts of stories I never get around to. Also how tf did u find this I purposely didn't tag this shit. Why u lookin at my personal shit?