Yandere X Reader - Blog Posts

Can I request Yandere Vlad the Impaler with the reader who's the sister of Matthias Corvinus? Knowing the history of both men the tension would be so high. Imagine like Vlad have a meeting with Matthias and met the reader for the first time and it was like love/obsession at first sight?

Hello dear. I hope you like it.

You were the third child and only daughter of John Hunyadi and Elizabeth Szilágyi. In other words, you were their precious little Princess in every sense. You had the best and most expensive of everything. Your mother was very careful about your upbringing. She did everything she could to make you a real lady. You got along well with your brothers. Especially with Matthias. The loss of your elder brother Ladislaus was a heavy blow for the family. You mourned in your mother's arms for months. After a while, Matthias took over the throne. In other words, he was now a King. You were very happy for your brother. Matthias had been protective of you since your childhood. This protectiveness especially increased when you two were alone in life. However, fate had some plans. Vlad the Impaler had visited your country for diplomatic purposes. He had noticed you during his meetings with your brother. Your brother was disturbed by Vlad's curiosity about you. Vlad immediately informed your brother that he wanted to marry you. This made your brother angry and worried. It was no secret that Vlad's fame had reached many people. Matthias politely turned down Vlad's request at first. However, this did not cause Vlad to give up. I have a few theories about what could happen next.

A war breaks out between the two countries. ~Matthias wins. ~Vlad wins.

Matthias is forced to let you and Vlad get married so that there is no war.

I can so see her being coddled and never left alone

Yandere! Royal family × Neglected Reader

The Reborn Royal Part 1

Summary: This is one of those storys where y/n is born to royal family but the family treats them horribly and they become reborn and try to change their fate. Except, this y/n has been through the loop many. Many times, always meeting their doom, until one loop it suddenly changes

Tw: violence, abuse, yandere behavior(all platonic), descriptions of death, mentions of suicide and self harm.

Another day of torment has gone bye, as usual.

This time y/n had "embaressed" the family at a royal ball ruining their older siblings proposals. And being punished heavily for it.

Beaten and bruised y/n retreated to the library, one of the only places you know is safe from the torment on account of how large it is. Always finding books that have been hidden away covered in dust for who knows how long.

The library was always so quiet, you always liked that about it, you weren't yelled at here, weren't beaten here due to the importance of the library.

So you were free to explore and read to your hearts content, thats when you found it.

A book unlike anything you've ever seen before, a book with no cover, and seemingly having empty pages until you reach the middle of the book and see it written.

"Ask for it and it shall be yours. But be careful what you wish for"

You wonder what this means, you've seen magic before, even learned it in some previous lives, but you've never known magic, let alone any books that could grant wishes. Still, after so many lifetimes of pain and suffering, you think about what to wish for that could save you from this.

"I... I wish for my life to change, to have a loving, caring family, to go throughout my days not needing to fear pain just for existing" y/n starts to sob, wishful thinking they think to themselves, that is until the text on the book starts to move around and change.

"Your wish has been granted. The next time you wake up your life will be changed forever" the text then fades from the book as if it was never there in the first place. Y/n puts the book back where they found it and filled with hope that they hadn't had in a long time, they head off to bed hoping that the book worked and that finally things will change for the better.

....

.......

It does not.

Nothing seems to have changed. Everything is the same as it was. It's been a few weeks since you've made your wish, and unfortunately the torment hasn't let up, not even a little bit. Your Mother and Father, the Queen and King respectively continue to ignore your existence completely, ashamed to have birthed a useless child like you. Throughout your lives no matter what you did they always saw you the same, it shouldn't still hurt after so long but it does.

Your siblings, have changed, but only for the worst, since your last embaressment on them your older brothers have been pushing you around more and more, your older sister, while she doesn't harm you physically whenever she's near you she makes it her job to remind you about how much of a failure you are. How you always ruin everything.

You never should have gotten your hopes up. You don't know why you even try anymore. What's the point of living through these lives if the outcome is all the same, waiting for the day you'll die in some horrible way, usually killed, but there has been the occasional accident.

Something snaps. You can't live like this anymore, maybe... maybe if instead of being killed... maybe if you kill yourself it'll all stop...

And that's what you do.

While the rest of your "family" is hosting another ball to repair the damage you've done. You make your move, heading to one of the palace balconys and ending it.

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

The Royal Family have just announced they are having another child, they should be rejoicing but ever since the Queen discovered she was pregnant they whole family seems to have fallen under a curse of some kind.

Visions of the future, of pain, of... a person? They've never seen this person yet they look so much like them. And they see themselves too but.. somethings wrong with them. The visions are horrible, seeing each of them hurting this unknown person.

At first the Queen thought she was just having pregnancy nightmares, but then she overhears her boys fighting about something they've seen.

The Royal family gathers to discuss and discovers that they've all been getting this visions, visions of different lives, of this persons different lives. They've discovered that their visions line up, but still have many differences.

Preists, Mages, Wizards, they've called everyone they could from all over the kingdom that could possibly explain what's happening to them. To make it stop.

But none of them could figure it out.

This continues for months and they only seem to get worse. At first it was merely people who looked like them being rude, or obnoxious, or bullys, but has time went on the people in these visions got meaner. Got violent. And then the deaths started to show.

They can only watch in horror as this person dies time and time again. They refuse to believe that the people in these visions could be them. Why would they ever hurt this "y/n" this way. They don't understand it. The children wake up screaming so often that for the last month of the Queens pregnancy the family refuses to leave each other's side.

And then it happens. The day that changes everything. The day the Queen gives birth, they all have one final vision, for once, it's the same vision as well. They see this "y/n" holding a book, making their wish, and then... jumping

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

Everything is dark, and for a moment, you think this may really be the end for once... so many emotions all at once but there's no time to think before there's a bright light and you open up your eyes.

And you see them. It didn't work. You start to cry, and you cry hard, you immediately expect to be handed over to a maid as always, but instead the queen Your mother, she keeps you in her arms and tries her best to comfort you. Looking at you for the first time and she cries.

This is strange. She's never reacted like this, she's never held you like this she's-

"It's her."

A states, you can't see him but you recognize your father's voice. The voice of a king is hard to forget.

"There she is. Y/n."

You flinch at your name being said, you don't think anything of it, but they notice. They never wanna see you flinch again. Your only a baby. Your THEIR baby.

They have you now. So small, so delicate, so fragile, they won't let anyone hurt you. They've seen the visions, they've seen your deaths, and while you don't know it. They've vowed to never let you go through any of that ever again.

No matter what. You will get what you wished for. They'll make sure of it.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yan! King and Queen of the Winter Fae

Tw:

You’re Bruce’s biological daughter from a one night stand. You joined the family only a month or so before Jason’s death, which was definitely a big factor of the neglect.

You had one month where the house was good. You had been living with your grandparents, as your mother hadn’t been able to parent you, but they had gotten too old to care for you. So, your mother told Bruce about you, they did a DNA test, and voila! It’s a child

Your first month was tense but good. Bruce was distant and awkward but he genuinely tried. Alfred was always willing to talk with you. Jason was actually really nice to you, and the one time you met Dick, you really liked him.

However, everything changed when Jason died.

You were mourning too, having cared about him, but you were left alone in your grief. Bruce shut you out, rarely showing up to dinner or anything else. Alfred was more distant, colder. Dick wasn’t there. No one was.

Then, a boy with black hair and pale skin started randomly coming in and ordering your dad around, and Alfred welcomed him with open arms. Bruce took longer, but it wasn’t too long until your father started treating that way better than he treated you.

The thing you hated most about the whole situation was that you were absolutely being kept in the dark about something. The minute you entered any room three of them were in conversations stopped. Usually the boy, Timothy, would change the subject or just excuse himself. Then Bruce would go back to being Brody.

You got the message. You stopped going to breakfast or dinner with them. You faded into the background easily, and could go weeks without seeing Tim or Bruce. Alfred was more regularly, but never for long. In the morning before school when you get the bus, he packed you breakfast to go, which was nice.

You spent a lot of time outdoors, even during the winter. That was probably why you started, noticing the odd behavior of the air around you. You noticed the odd sound coming from the abandoned shed on the property.

You weren’t expecting to see a small being that looked like they were made of ice stuck in a mouse trap made of plastic, their oxygen being cut off, but you couldn’t leave them there.

When you entered the shed, having successfully broken the lock, you could tell the being was surprised. You spoke in calm tones, explaining that you lived on the property and you wanted to help them, but that you needed them to hold still.(in the back of your mind, you wondered if they even understood English. Hopefully, if they didn’t, your tone would help them understand.)

It took you a minute to figure out how the trap worked, but once you figured it out, you let the being free. They stared at you for a moment. They flew up to eye level with you for a moment, and touched your nose.

The little hand on your nose felt surprisingly nice. It wasn’t the bad, kind of cold, but rather felt like snow when it hits the tip of your nose. It made you smile.

The being winked at you, smiling and making sounds that you couldn’t quite understand, before they flew off into the sky, which you noticed was rapidly getting darker. You hurried back to the manor to get your dinner, not realizing just what you had started.

Edit: I’m so sorry I haven’t been writing lately! Things have been hectic, but summer starts soon, so I hope I will have more time to write! Also, in case you don’t realize it from reading this, the reader does not know the Waynes are the Batfamily, and the reader has not been publicly acknowledged as a member of the Wayne family. You were supposed to be publicly acknowledged after being there for a month and a half, but when Jason died, those plans got thrown out. 

I hope everyone who believed those rumors suffers.

Yandere Harem

Being in high school, you've had your ups and downs; being the best in your sports team, having an amazing childhood best friend, being teased occasionally, and living your life. It wasn't always like this, a few rumors said here and there, spread by the ones you thought you knew and next thing you know, you're spiraling.

Now that you're in college, you were able to leave them behind and now that you trying to live your life without the cruel past weighing down on you, old mistakes start sprouting in hopes to befriend you again, but there was no going back to fixing things.

Your partner in crime, aka your childhood best friend since 2nd grade, the one you befriended after standing up to some bullies and then promising each other to never be a bystander.

The boy who broke that promise.

He's been avoiding you since he got a girlfriend, always ditching you last minute, dry texts, ignoring you in public before you toss your hands in the air in frustration before walking away.

This is where the rumors started. At first it was just name calling, but now it changed to whore, slut, and students started becoming physical.

You had no idea why people started calling you these names, but some student answered your questions.

"Stop trying to get in between Elijah and his girlfriend, whore!"

This was about Elijah? But you weren't trying to get in between them! I mean, sure, you did like him for a while but once he got with his girlfriend, you got rid of those feelings!

Maybe if you sent him a text to tell people that you weren't trying to sabotage his relationship, maybe people would finally leave you alone.

Oh, how foolish you were.

Not only did it make it worse, but it was also slowly starting to affect you mentally. Elijah's girlfriend seemed to have it out for you, sending screenshots, that was so painfully photoshopped, to her social media, crying about 'how cruel and a bitch you were for trying to separate her from someone who truly loves her and maybe you were just jealous from their love.'

Less than 24 hours later, a group of girls managed to catch you behind the school, pulling at your hair and bag, mocking just anything about you. Your hairstyle, your weight, your clothes, etc.

You were outnumbered, you knew that sooner or later you would start fighting, they're not letting up, their mocking laughs echoed in your ears.

Then a familiar figure walks by with his friends, laughing at a joke someone had made. With one last line of hope, you take a deep breath and call out to him.

"ELIJAH!"

Hearing someone shout out his name, Elijah turns his head and is faced with you cornered against a wall, surrounded by girls who he has seen his girlfriend hang out with sometimes.

He knows he should do something; he should help you! He made that promise with you to NOT be a bystander.

"Oh look! Isn't she that one slut who's trying to get between you and your girl?" One of his friends mocked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Dude, just leave her, she's just getting what she deserves."

With a strained laugh, Elijah turns to quickly leave the scene but was once again stopped by you. "Y-yeah..."

"ELIJAH!" You cried out, blood turning cold. "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

He doesn't turn back, walking faster as his 'friends' laughed and jogged to catch up with him.

After the beating you received, you stayed home for a few days.

Once you returned to school, you put your attention onto the sports team you were in. You weren't going to let Elijah's betrayal bring down all your progress.

You were good, it took your mind off of things happening with school and whatnot. Your team did say a few things here and there but stopped quickly after what happened to you days prior.

Your team caption was a nice guy, always encouraged you and your team, and always had a shoulder to let you cry on whenever you felt like you're dragging the team down.

Now since you returned to your practices... things have changed with him. What's weird is that it was only towards you, not the rest of your teammates.

Milo's 180 threw you off, from cheering you on and handing you your favorite snacks randomly because he 'got the wrong brand' to just barely acknowledging you but whenever he did acknowledge you, you were thrown insults of how your form was off, how you were supposed to be defending the goal.

How you were bringing your team down.

It was so much worse outside of practice. Whenever your team hung out around town to celebrate a win, Milo would be the first to complement each girl and then turn around to spew on how you could've worked harder.

After another one of your teams wins, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom and shortly after you returned, you overheard Milo talking about you to your team.

"I might have to talk with the coach to kick [Name] off the team, I'm sure you all know about her... reputation going around school and I don't want that affecting the judge's opinion on the team when we go to the finals."

Your teammates argue with him, disagreeing but he ignores them, shrugging as he shoved more food in his mouth. "I'm just looking out for the team."

Your chest aches, did Milo really feel like this? This team was your world, and he wants you kicked off because of your reputation? Even though you were busting your ass to help bring this team to the finals and THIS is what you get in return?

Taking a deep breath, you count to 10 and exhaled, before stepping around the corner to meet your team with a smile on your face. "Hey, guys! Hope you didn't take a bite from my food."

Fine, you'll prove yourself to your coach and take everyone to the finals and rub it into Milo's smug face.

It was a long cruel journey, thankfully, your coach disagreed with Milo's judgement and allowed you to remain on the team. And with your team, you all stood in 2nd place. It wasn't a total loss, but you were happy with the results, shrugging with your team as you stared at the winners.

Then Milo ruined the moment.

"It's all your damn fault!" He hissed at you, your teammates looking at him in confusion. "If you were dropped from the team, we could've won first place! But NO! The coach wasn't able to see that!"

Then he points his finger at you, sneering. "I bet you slept him so you wouldn't be kicked out, aren't I right? You goddamn WHORE!"

You gasped at the accusation, your teammates looked ready to kill Milo for saying such words. "Is that what you think of me, Milo?"

"U-Uh, well..." He stuttered, now realizing what he said. "I didn't- I didn't mean to say that I just-"

"You know that I told you that the rumors were false!"

"Y-yeah I know that-"

"You know I am not like that!"

"W-wait let me speak damn it!"

"YOU KNOW THE BULLSHIT I HAD TO DEAL WITH?" You screamed, tears spilling down your cheeks. "After I got beat up, I was hoping things would be different if I explained my side of the story, everybody would see that I'm not like that!"

"But-" You sobbed, Milo looked at you with regret. "Out of everyone, I was hoping you would believe me, I guess I was wrong."

Wiping your tears with the back of hand, you turned to your teammates with a sad, wobbly smile. "I think I'm gonna head home, guys, you could uh, just celebrate without me."

Then you walked off the field.

It's been almost two years since you graduated high school and went off to college. You deleted any remaining online presence you had and made new ones, hoping to fully escape your past.

You managed to study at a college near your apartment complex, becoming quick friends with your neighbor after getting your mail mixed up a few times.

During the few times you chatted with each other, you learned a few things from Ivan; he worked at your favorite coffee shop, you have him in a few of your courses you're taking, and he's studying to become a vet!

During months, you managed to befriend the shy man. Some days when you had class together, he would bring your favorite order from the cafe along with a treat.

He became your rock, and you become his.

But alas, all good things must come to an end when you bumped into a familiar man.

"[Name]? Is that you?" They asked, shock and disbelief in their voice. "Oh wow! It's been a long time! How have you been?"

Crap it was Elijah.

You shrink away from his close proximity, he takes notice and backs away, albeit unwillingly.

"Yeah, it's been fine." You rushed out, glancing at your phone after it vibrated from a notification. It was Ivan. "But I gotta get to my class."

"What? But we barely chatted!" He whines, pouting his lips in hopes you'll stay for a few minutes. "You're not gonna spare a few minutes to hang with your best friend?"

You froze.

Best friend? The only person who you consider your real best friend is Ivan. And you've only known him for almost a year! The nerve Elijah had, acting like the last few years of high school didn't happen.

He doesn't know what it feels like to ignore the rumors, how people you tried to befriend steered clear of you, or how you spent your lunches eating in the bathroom!

Enraged, you spun around and shoved a finger against Elijah's chest. "Don't give me that 'best friend' bullshit. You stopped being my friend when you left me with those group of girls nor did you even defend me from those rumors."

With each word, you jabbed your finger harder and harder, pushing Elijah against the wall. "And I'm pretty sure your girlfriend wouldn't want you around me, she might think I'll get in between your oh so sweet relationship."

"You're practically a stranger." Backing away from Elijah, his expression unreadable. "Stay the hell away from me."

Elijah watches you walk away from him, a guilty look in his eyes. He knows he fucked up and he knew you didn't want to see his face again, but he hoped that since became a better person since graduation that you'll start letting him in your life again.

He even broke up with his girlfriend after she spread those fake screenshots. Elijah curses at himself for not reaching out to you after you were attacked. Now he has to watch you leave from his life again-

Who's that?

[Name], who the fuck is that with you?

The man grits his teeth as he watches the stranger wrap his arm around your shoulder and guide you into the college building.

nononononono, there's no way you replaced him that easily. He could still redeem himself! Just give him some time and soon you be laughing with each other like you used to be! How it was meant to be!

The man watches the two of you walk deeper into the building, Ivan turning to send him a smug look. Rage burning in Elijah's eyes.

"I will make that happen."

"So, you pet sit in your free time?" You clasp your hands together in awe. "I'm so jealous!"

Ivan flushes, gripping on the dog leashes tighter at the adoration in your eyes. It was mostly for the dogs and not towards him.

"Y-Yeah, but honestly, it's a lot of work and having you with me lessons that load and thanks for coming to the park on such short notice." He stammered, bashfully smiling at you. You wave off his appreciation.

"No worries, I'm glad to help a friend out and petting dogs is such a nice reward in return." You smirked, reaching down to rub a German Shepards ear, the dogs tail wagging happily at your affection.

"You're a reward..." Ivan mumbled.

"What was that?" You asked, lifting your head to him, hand still petting the dog.

"What was what? Anyway-"

A soccer ball bounces off your shin. Turning, you picked it up and looked around for the owner.

"E-Excuse me miss; that's my ball." A little girl shyly points at her ball, tapping the top of her cleats into the grass.

"Oh? Here you go!" You hand it over and she gratefully accepts it before noticing the dogs surrounding you three.

"OH EM GEE!" She squeals, hopping on one foot then to the other. "Are those doggies? Can I pet one of them?"

You turned to Ivan who gives his nod of approval. Giggling, the little girl sets her ball next to her as she kneels down to start petting at any dog her tiny arms could reach.

"Wow, your doggies are so cute! Do you guys have a favorite? My favorite is the husky! Do you guys dress them up for holidays? How much does the vet bill costs? -" And she continued on and on until she heard her name.

"Lily? Lily, you need to get back to practice!" Jogging to the group was another familiar man you hoped you wouldn't see.

There in all his glory, stood Milo.

He scans Lily for any injuries, then to Ivan, then finally his eyes settle on you, he immediately recognizes you.

"O-oh! [Name], is that really you?" He asks, eyeing you. "Man, you changed a lot. It's been forever!"

"Likewise," You murmured, hooking your arm around Ivan's elbow and turning to leave. Ivan flushes at the contact but follows you regardless.

"Woah, woah!" Milo walks in front of you to prevent you from leaving. "Why the sudden rush? Didn't I always tell you to take your time when the ball is in your court." He snorts at his small joke.

You rolled your eyes with a groan. "Last time I checked, someone wanted me kicked off the court." And shoved your way past Milo.

Milo cringes. Yeah, he saw that coming.

"Look I know I said some very... very awful things to you and I know there's no way you could forgive me for saying them, but can we please start over?" He whispered to you and away from Ivan's prying stare.

You pause, thinking about what he said. Should you really start over with him? No, you promised to distance yourself away from the past and if you were to start over with Milo, you're just bringing an old brick to a new building.

"No thanks," You go around Milo but he cuts you off again.

"B-but why? We could go slow and m-maybe play a scrimmage like we used to back in high school! You loved doing that with the team!" He stammered, hoping you would stay.

"Milo, I stopped playing that sport," You shove him aside. "I lost my passion for it."

Milo's heart drops.

That wasn't because he was harsh on you? Right? He was just looking out for you! Like what a team captain should do!

"A-are you sure? Maybe you're just burnt out!" He reaches out to you. "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you-"

Ivan quickly reaches over to grasp Milo's wrist, squeezing it in warning.

"Don't touch her."

Lily watches the dispute happening, worry in her eyes to which you notice.

"Ivan let him go, he isn't worth it." You murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder, calming him down enough to release his harsh grip on Milo.

"You should go back to your practice, Milo." You muttered then walked past the man without letting him speak. Ivan shoves his shoulder against his, throwing a glare at him as he walked by.

Milo shakes, in rage or despair, he has no idea but what he does know is that he absolutely despises that Ivan guy.

Who does he think he is?

"Uh, coach, should we go back to the team?" Lily asked, not noticing Milo's raging form.

"Yeah- sure, let's go." He murmured, thoughts on you and Ivan.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard." Milo promised under his breath.

"Soo," Ivan drawls out, thumb rubbing the outline of the cup of coffee in his hand. "What was all that about?"

You groan, resting your head on his coffee table. "Just a bunch of shit I left behind but apparently not since they came biting me in the ass."

"It's a long story," Ivan nods and slides closer to you after setting his cup down.

"Alright, I won't push you to share but just know this." Wrapping his arms around you, Ivan embraces you in a soft hug. briefly sniffing your hair.

"That I will always be by your side." He murmured, smiling once he feels you reciprocate his hug. "Got that?"

"Mhm," You buried his face against his chest to hide your flowing tears from him.

He coos, rubbing your head.

What he didn't tell you was that he has always been by your side. You just didn't notice, silly goose~!

He was sure you would notice those group of girls who brutally beat you behind the schools were soon expelled. Or how those group of guys who thought you were easy because of those harsh rumors were placed in the hospital.

You didn't know that Ivan took care of everyone who dared to bully you. But that's okay! It was all worth it in the end because he has you in his arms!

The only problem he faces now are those two dumbasses. He figured they'll go to different colleges but was angry when he found out Milo and Elijah both attended the college you're going to!

Ivan could only do so much to avoid crossing paths with them with you.

As long as they don't interfere with his plans for you, then they'll live.

For now.

My tip jar! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

This is really well written

The Ghost of Harding Manor

Friedrich Harding x Reader

Summary: Your marriage is haunted by the ghost of the wife who came before you, and the walls of Harding Manor bear witness to your husband's descent into madness.

warnings: Dub-Con, loss of virginity, obsession, unsure if stalking counts if it takes place in your own home, implied chronically ill!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

♱

You were not Anna.

You were reminded every day from the moment you wed Friedrich Harding and became his missus that you were not Anna. Anna who was perfect and said the right things and walked the right way and was a walking temptation to the man she called her husband. Anna who—even in death—called to Friedrich from beyond and was nearly successful if it were not for strong hands and strong voices keeping the dark-haired man from throwing himself into her coffin with her. Anna who was well on her way to giving your husband a third child.

Anna whose touch still lingered in this home and along these walls and in the long dead flowers that Friedrich refused to throw out.

Anna who haunted you much more than she haunted your new husband.

Illness had not just taken the angelic beauty, but her three children with her, one never even getting the chance to take his first breath. In your solitude, you sometimes thought that you did not know what was worse—their two daughters remaining and forcing you to fill the void the other woman left in multiple lives…or your life as it were as you were forced to give Friedrich a whole new family and reason for existing.

You knew from the moment you became betrothed that you had a heavy vacancy to fill…but it seemed that Friedrich had no intention of you filling it.

“He does not touch me, mother.”

The words were whispered in the quiet home one day, and you looked around, ignoring the feel of the older woman’s gaze in favor of imagining what this house must have been like before the tragedy. You imagined how loud it must have been with two animated little girls running around. You imagined how good Friedrich must have been with them, and thoughts of Anna welcoming him home with a kiss and her arms full made your heart sink.

You were not her.

The advice of your mother went into one ear and out the other. You had long accepted that you were a poor replacement that Friedrich could hardly stand to look at. You were alone on your wedding night and again the night after that and the night after that. You were always alone, and the few glimpses that you got of your husband since the wedding day only proved fruitful in your gazes meeting for a stolen moment…and then he was gone again.

You were always alone, and he was always gone…

Until the morning you would not rise from your bed.

The fever struck you in the night, and by the time morning came you felt weighed down by sand. Any strength you had was used to keep your breathing as even as possible, unable to even muster an attempt to open your eyes and tell your cold husband that you were well. Conversations swirled around your head for what felt like days, and in between the feverish dreams, you caught diagnoses and assurances here and there.

“It is merely a cold,” the doctor told Friedrich. “Her body is fighting it quite well, and she will be like new in a matter of days.”

You recalled agreeing with the assessment, feeling more fatigued than anything else—you’d always been rather sickly—but your peace had been broken for the first time in months. The voice of your husband had reached your ears—so broken and angry and unlike anything you had experienced with him.

“...and how exactly did this come about? She never even leaves the house, for God’s sake.”

You heard the rustle of fabric and heavy steps and an even heavier sigh.

“In a matter of a night, my wife has taken ill, and I am assured that she will recover in no time, but I have heard that before…” his voice shook. “I will not bury another wife—I cannot!”

It all seemed so unlike him, and so you convinced yourself that you merely dreamt it up. The fever was clouding your mind and making you conjure up your innermost desires, namely Friedrich caring for you for more than just a societal duty to bear sons that would carry on his name. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness and dream some more.

A masculine hand in yours, a finger tracing patterns into your stomach through the fabric of the bedding, soft lips brushing along your fingers and facial hair tickling your flesh. Your mind conjured up all sorts of things that simply could not be true, and yet when you fully opened your eyes for the first time in days, you were not alone.

It was not easy to place the look upon Friedrich’s face as he stared down at you, towering over your bed with a smoke in hand and dark circles beneath his eyes. He did not look well himself, and you could not help running your eyes over him, wondering just how much sleep he had gotten this past week. The room was quiet as you two just stared at each other, and just as you parted your lips to inquire about his own health, he was abruptly turning away from you. His voice rang throughout the house as he demanded someone send for the doctor.

It was only hours later that it was professionally confirmed that you were almost as good as new and would probably only have to put up with a light cough for the next day or two. Hearing those words relieved you, and when you looked up at your husband, you could not tell if he shared your relief. You frowned up at him as the doctor poked and prodded at you, wondering, for the first time, just what the dark-haired young man was thinking.

He only stared back.

In fact, he only ever stared these days.

When you were walking through the silent house much like the ghost that haunted your marriage, you could feel the heavy weight of his stare pressing down on you. It was not easy to ignore—nor did you want to—but whenever you turned, no husband was there to meet your gaze. The only sign of his presence was the flutter of a broad shadow passing along the walls. He was much bolder when you found your nose buried in a book, and oftentimes when you lifted your gaze to catch him, he did not shy away.

“Yes?” you would wonder, voice quiet as both uncertainty and unease filled you.

Sometimes he did not answer, merely content to gaze at you, and other times he took his time in responding. He would exhale smoke and it would billow between you, briefly obscuring his features before he swiped his tongue between his lips.

“Supper will be ready within the hour.”

You would nod, and he would make no move to leave, and you would be forced to turn your eyes back to the pages before you…resolving to ignore the silent presence in the doorway that was your husband. You found yourself doing that a lot—resolving to ignore his presence. Otherwise, you would never get anything done.

His gaze clung to you when you ate, the dinner table silent outside of the sound of food and utensils hitting dishes. When your eyes would meet, you would send him a small smile, thinking to yourself that your marriage was just progressing slower than most, but he never returned it. He never smiled at you, only preferring to stare. When you ate, when you read, when you found yourself outside amongst the flowers…even when you slept.

You had never once shared a bed, so it was startling to answer a knock on your door one night, coming face to face with your other half. Your nightdress kissed your feet, and the sleeves tickled your hand, and despite that, Friedrich gazed at you as if you were standing naked before him.

“I only wish to make sure you are well throughout the night.”

You did not know how you felt both relief and disappointment, but you managed.

It took you some time to respond, nodding with a small ‘of course’. You still let out a cough here and there, and you did not miss the way Friedrich’s head would abruptly turn with every heave of your chest. Your marriage may have been cold and strange, but it was obvious that your husband had grown paranoid with the fear of burying a wife for a second time. You imagined that it would not reflect well on him.

…and so you laid beside him and closed your eyes and even in the cover of darkness…

You could feel his gaze.

It unsettled you, and you had half a mind to seek the advice of your mother the next time your parents came for a visit, but she—ever zestful and bold—completely took hold of your train of thought.

“...and when might I expect a grandchild?”

There was a teasing smile on her lips as she regarded you, and you merely sighed before taking a sip of your tea.

“You know my situation, mother,” you murmured, setting your cup aside.

Father was with Friedrich, and you hoped that he was enjoying his company much more than he seemed to his daughter.

“Yes, but that was months ago, and I can tell that things have shifted.”

At that, you frowned, turning to face her.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your marriage was just as cold as it was in the beginning, only now a strange voyeuristic atmosphere had descended over it. Your husband had gone from ignoring your very presence to shadowing your every footstep in the house. Her light chuckle made you flinch, and she gazed at you as if you were playing some joke on her.

“Darling,” she took a sip of the warm drink. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you welcomed us through those doors.”

Your frown deepened.

“That is the gaze of a man fighting with all of his might to resist his beloved wife.”

Now it was your turn to think she was playing a jest with you, but you had no more time to linger on that for the voices of your father and husband soon filled the house as they made their way inside. You could only swallow as mother stood to welcome father back, slowly rising as your own husband neared you. When you traced his face with your eyes, you noticed the ease upon it, and you felt relieved to see that he and your father got on well. He looked like any normal man alight with the mirth that came from being in the company of other like minded men, and so you disregarded your mother’s words.

As you stepped past him to approach your father, your back felt aflame with the heat of a familiar gaze.

You saw them out and wished them safe travels and your father placed his hand on your cheek before he went, speaking good health over you. While he may have been used to your sickly nature, any instance that required bed confinement for his daughter always worried him. He wanted to leave with the trust that you would be well looked after…and well looked after you were.

“Your father was very transparent with me about your health.”

Friedrich towered over you as you sat at the table, having been unsure where this conversation was heading when he interrupted supper. A small container was in his large hand, and when your gaze lifted from the bottle to his eyes, you swore that you saw him falter, his words momentarily stuck in his throat.

He placed the bottle down before you, his hand remaining on the table, and the scent of him filled your nose.

“I have gotten the doctor to make a tonic for you. You are to take a few drops with your meal once a week… It will keep your strength and health up.”

He only moved again to open it, and despite the fact that you felt it was hardly necessary—having survived so long without it—one look into the eyes of your husband told you that not only could it not hurt, but for his peace of mind, you needed to do this. You two gazed at one another as he held it in his hand, and after some time, you realized what he wanted. Parting your lips for him, you swallowed down the few drops he administered to you, but even after you swallowed the herbal mixture down…Friedrich continued to stand over you.

It was in this moment that you finally started to voice your thoughts, asking him why he stared at you so when his movements completely stumped you.

His thumb found the corner of your mouth, startling you, and it remained there for some time before he brought it to his lips, tasting whatever had been lingering there. His blue eyes—normally so cold and unreadable in your presence—suddenly glinted with a look you could not place. It happened so fast that you would have missed it, but you did not, and the intensity there was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Friedrich parted from you as if nothing had happened, and you watched him round the table to take his place across from you once again. It took you some time to pick up your utensils again, rejoining him in eating your supper, and now it was your turn to stare at him…unable to forget that shadowy something that passed through those blue eyes.

He was staring again.

The wind howled outside of the window with the storm and flashes of lightning lit up the otherwise dark room from time to time and your chest and shoulders moved evenly as you feigned sleep. You stared at the wall before you, and Friedrich stared at you. If at all possible, he grew more shameless with it, and if you were a normal loving couple just so wrapped up in each other—as you were sure he was with Anna—then some part of you might have found it romantic.

Tantalizing even.

As it were, you were not, and as silly as it seemed…you felt hunted in your own house.

You constantly felt like prey under his ever watchful eye no matter how justified he made it seem. Concern for your health, making sure no food disagreed with you, seeing how fair you slept. The paranoia of losing another wife suffocated you both for different reasons and in different ways, and you felt as if you were moments away from choking. Your mother’s voice crawled through your mind, and words that you had once dismissed now rang through your thoughts like a melody.

The room glowed with another flash of lightning…and you felt the gentle feel of fingers on the side of your face. You sharply inhaled, startled from both the sudden touch and the foreignness of it. His hand rested on your hair, ensuring that he could gaze upon your face no doubt, and when you felt the bed jostle, you closed your eyes. His lips found your tresses, and his hand found your shoulder, and you both heard and felt him breathe you in.

Friedrich’s nose traced the curve of your ear and he descended until his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Despite all of this, your heart remained steady, and you remained still as he gently pressed his lips to your skin and traced patterns through your sleeve. You felt his larger frame shifting closer, and at that—at the feel of him pressed so closely to you to where you could feel every curve and ridge of him—you shuddered.

Yet you still feigned sleep.

“You will never be her,” the words he murmured into your skin had your brows furrowing. “...and I will never let you.”

Contradictory to the words that left his lips, the hand on your arm found its way to your waist, his arm completely circling you and holding you to him. That was how he remained throughout the night, and only when you accepted the permanence of his position, did you finally allow yourself to find sleep.

It was dreamless, and when you woke up, you woke up alone.

You chose to ignore the relief that filled you at that discovery, telling yourself that Friedrich was still grieving. It was an easy answer to his behavior and treatment of you, and yet, you wondered how much longer you had to endure it. You wondered how much longer you would feel watched and shadowed in your own house.

At breakfast, you parted your lips for Friedrich as he gave you a few drops of the tonic, and he watched you eat, and you pretended not to notice. For some time that is. Finally, after a while, you placed your utensils down, and you lifted your gaze to meet his head on. Ever bold, he did not look away, those blue eyes momentarily making you lose your train of thought.

“Why do you stare at me so?”

You finally voiced your concerns with him, and you watched the mustache twitch from the movements of his mouth at your sudden and brazen question. Friedrich looked as if he had never anticipated you asking that of him, but eventually he straightened, pushing his shoulders back as he studied your face.

“I am afraid you will slip away.”

His answer made you blink, eyes widening slightly.

“I fear…” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “...like my Anna, you will slip from my grasp.”

Your lips parted at the unexpected answer, and you were unsure of how to respond. Friedrich took a deep breath before digging into his own breakfast, those blue eyes finally refusing to meet yours.

“I will not allow you to become her…lost to me too.”

It was in that moment that you realized you completely misconstrued his words from the previous night, and you stared at the man before you who was so desperate and driven to uncomfortable lengths to ensure he did not bury another wife. Some part of you felt awful for feeling so put off by his uncanny behavior…but some other part of you recognized that your husband was slowly being pushed to madness.

If he were not so already.

“She vexes me so…”

Those were the words you overheard a week later, your house hosting a small handful of people that Friedrich knew. The wives took to you well despite your quiet disposition, and when they proposed an evening walk along the beach, you went in search of your husband to inform him. When you found him, he was in the company of three other men, the smell of tobacco reached you first and then his words followed.

You froze the moment you realized it was you he was referring to.

“She is so quiet and frail…like a mouse” there were a few chuckles. “...and I so desire to hear her squeak.”

You felt yourself take a step back.

“...but it is because she is so fragile that I cannot bring myself to touch her…” you heard Friedrich inhale. “I fear I would ravage her.”

How was it possible for his words to both terrify and entice you? It was a relief to know that your husband did not balk at the sight of you as you once thought, but you did not hold the same sentiment in confirming you were indeed being hunted in your own house. Friedrich had made no moves to warm you to him and progress this marriage in a way that a normal man would. After all these months, he was still little more than a stranger to you.

A stranger that was increasingly losing himself more and more at the thought of ever losing you.

“...but Friedrich we only just got here.”

You looked to him with a slight frown, the ocean breeze a soothing feeling against your skin. So turned around by his words from the other night, you had completely forgotten all about the beach, returning to the other wives in a bit of a daze, something they happily sat you down and fetched some water for.

With one look at you surrounded and feverish with some water in your hand, Friedrich had cleared the house out immediately, saddening you. You were at the beach, now to make up for it, but you were sure that you had only been here all of ten minutes.

“It is a bit airish out,” he said to you, keeping your hand in place on his arm. “I do not wish to see you fall ill again.”

You struggled to argue with him about your health, understanding both the sensitive nature of the topic and the determination in his eyes to see you back inside the house. Despite what you wanted, you allowed him to guide you away from the water and sand. His hand remained on yours the whole way, and the closer you got to your home, the more your unease grew.

“Perhaps we can try again if the weather is better tomorrow,” you proposed the moment you were inside the warm walls of the house.

Your husband did not answer right away as he removed his coat, and for a moment you feared he never would, but his eyes met yours as he turned to you. He was gentle and meticulous in unbuttoning your own coat, his chest so close to yours as he slowly peeled it off of you. The words that he did not know you heard were on your mind as he looked down his nose at you, and he only answered when your arms were finally free.

“We shall see.”

His tone and his words did not seem to be in agreement, and you were unsurprised when tomorrow came and went and you did not leave the walls of your home. You found enjoyment in your books instead, and like always, you eventually felt goosebumps crawl over your arms as you became the subject of his scrutiny yet again.

Only this time, you were surprised to hear him approach.

“Read to me,” he quietly asked—demanded—of you, and you felt his hand in your hair as he sat down on the couch behind you.

It was an unexpected request, and you were silent for a few moments more as he made himself comfortable behind you. His legs were on either side of you as you relaxed on the floor, the fabric of your dresses and undergarments cushioning your bottom. It took you some time to do as he asked, but once you did, you started to forget that he was even there.

Until his fingers started to move over your scalp and he drew himself closer, his knees in your line of vision now, and his gentle breathing started to accompany the sound of your own voice. You read to him for what felt like hours, both of you only pulled from the moment when the cook informed you that dinner would be ready soon.

Much of your time was spent reading to Friedrich these days, and you wondered if he thought it a sufficient enough distraction to ensure you hardly noticed he never let you out of the house anymore. Your requests to go to the beach grew less and less with every denial and every ‘maybe’ that would just turn into a denial. The day you asked to accompany one of the staff to the market, he visibly blanched, his head shaking as he snarked at you how completely out of the question that was.

You finally spoke up when the monthly visit from your parents did not come to pass.

“I did not think it wise for them to be here,” was his only defense, and you gaped at him.

“...and why not? Why am I the last to know this?”

His hand wrapped around your arm as he pulled you away from the curious eyes and ears of the kitchen staff, guiding you through the house with that long stride of his that almost made it hard to keep up. When he noticed, he slowed down, eventually halting his movements just outside of his study, and when you hesitantly reached for your arm, Friedrich loosened his hold.

You watched him use his free hand to gently brush his fingers over the appendage, looking down at it with a frown before meeting your gaze with a more even stare. 

“...because they are always trotting off to God knows where around God knows who, and I will not allow them to bring even so much as a shallow cough into this household.”

You blinked at your husband, understanding dawning on you, and you struggled with a response. You realized now that appeasing his paranoia—not fighting it and letting him have his way—was doing more harm than good. Friedrich was so good at hiding his emotions from you—even the ones you wanted to know about—but in the dimly lit hallway, you could see it clear as day in his eyes.

He was consumed with the fear that you would wind up just like Anna and his children.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly reached for his hand, removing it from your arm. You did not break your gaze, wanting him to listen to you loud and clear, and you swallowed down the unease that filled you as you stood under his unwavering gaze.

“Friedrich…” you whispered to him, so unused to the feel of his name on your tongue. “That is no way for me to live a life.”

He pushed his shoulders back at that, and you knew that he was going to argue with you, so you continued.

“You have gotten me a tonic from the doctor…I am the healthiest I have ever been…and I would very much like to see my mother and father.”

His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth curved upwards at your attempt to put your foot down. The both of you stood there for a lengthy amount of time, just staring at one another, and for the briefest of moments, you thought that Friedrich would see reason. Your hand was still on his, and your husband maneuvered them so that your hand was now in his, and when he stopped closer, you knew then that you were not getting your way.

“Perhaps some other time.”

You knew what that meant as you watched him walk away, and dread began to fill you as the reality of your predicament was truly setting in. Your eyes roamed along the walls, no longer feeling haunted by Anna, but her husband instead. He was haunting you, and she was haunting him, and in his desperation to keep you from suffering the same fate as his previous wife, Friedrich seemed content to keep you behind a gilded cage, a manicured box.

Like a porcelain doll.

Your days were consumed with only him and the house—reading to him, tending to the flowers, picking out patterns for some new drapes or a new rug to be made. It was enough to ignore the obvious for a while, enough to keep your mind off of the prolonged absence of your parents and the unmet desires to see the water and the way Friedrich stared at you like he expected you to crumble at the drop of a hat.

He was driving you nearly mad as he, and perhaps that was why you did it.

The caretaker was new and had not yet learned that Friedrich Harding preferred to keep his new wife locked up like some sickly child. Why would she? You were sure that you would be back home before he returned, but when you entered your home—the sun still at its peak outside—you did not miss the way some of the servants avoided your gaze. Only one approached you, quietly taking your coat as her gaze found the floor.

“Mr. Harding is waiting for you both…”

Your heart sank at her words, and you looked to the caretaker, knowing that you just cost her employment. That had never been your intention, and you walked ahead of her, prepared to plead her case to your husband, but he let her go on the spot before you could get a word in. Everything you said went ignored, every plea and every excuse, and it was only when the staff made themselves conveniently scarce did your proper and mighty well-to-do husband finally…

Break.

“Do you wish to ruin me? Is that it?”

His voice bounced off of the walls, and your lips parted as he stared you down. His eyes were alight with every emotion known to man, and his shoulders heaved with every breath he took. You only just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“For surely it will be the end of me if I have to say goodbye to another wife,” he angrily whispered, and you took a step back. “I do not ask much of you.”

“I know-.”

“I have not forced you to my bed, I have not demanded any sons or daughters,” he let out a tearful chuckle. “I do not even demand you greet your husband with a kiss when he returns home.”

All of this was true, and yet…

“All I ask is that you remain here.”

He said it so casually, as if he were not asking the world of you to remain prettily seated in a cage. You had never known how to gently broach this subject, understanding the sensitive nature of it, but as you stared into the face of your husband—driven mad with trauma and paranoia—you accepted that there would be no gentle way to do it.

“I am not Anna,” you breathed.

The man before you froze in place as you said her name, and you swallowed. 

“I am in good health now,” you licked your lips. “You saw to that…”

You slowly reached for him, and you did not miss the sharp look in his gaze as he followed the movement with his eyes.

“I am not going anywhere, and I implore you to have faith…”

Your words trailed off as the sound of his bitter chuckle reached your ears. Friedrich moved closer to you with no intention of stopping it seemed, and your back hit the wall. 

“Faith,” the dark-haired man sneered. “Why would I trust faith to keep you with me when that very same faith failed me before?”

You had no answer for him.

His fingers touched your face, and you looked between his eyes. His chest heaved, and his heavy breathing was the loudest sound in the room. His fingers trailed down the expanse of your neck before his hand moved to rest on the back of it, moving closer.

“You are so frail,” he murmured. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He forced your face closer, and you pressed your hands to his chest. The conflict was evident on his features, a furrow between his brows as he drank you in with those sad blue eyes of his.

“I fear that a change in the wind would rip you from my very arms.”

“Friedrich…” he gave no indication that he was listening to you. “I have not seen my mother and father in months. I know they must worry and… All I ever see are these walls and the staff and my books and you. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?”

He tilted his head.

“Do you wish for me to be alone again?”

“Friedrich, please,” you begged, and he was shaking his head as soon as you said his name.

“I cannot do what you ask of me,” he forced out, eyes becoming glassy.

You pulled at his arm and pushed at his chest, but your husband was a mountain of a man, and it did you no good. The room was filled with both of your voices at once, both of you pleading with the other—you for freedom and he for understanding.

“You do not understand the lengths I go to…”

“I will be driven to madness!”

“...the nights I refuse my own desires,” he tearfully spat.

“So you would have me be your doll then? Placed on a shelf where only you and the staff can see me? To only be looked at like a trinket until the end of my days?”

Your poor choice of words had him freezing, his voice dying in the air as he gazed at you with a stricken look in his eyes. He did not move for a concerning amount of time, and as he stared into your eyes, tears kissing his own, you wondered who he saw, right now.

You or Anna?

The wife he had lost or the one he was scared of losing?

“I cannot bear it,” he choked out, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. “It is an impossible thing to ask of me.”

You said his name, but he felt lost to you, mumbling to himself and kneading at you through the fabric of your dress. When his soft lips pressed against the skin just above your bosom, you tensed. You could feel the wetness from his tears on your flesh, and you said his name again.

In this moment, you were wholly aware of your disadvantage.

“All I do is try to protect you, and all I ask is that you help me…”

“Friedrich.”

He was on his knees, now, burly arms circled around your waist, and blue eyes wide and bright and tearful as he looked up at you.

“Yet you fight me every step of the way.”

“I am not Anna,” you said to him, trying to get him to see reason.

…but he knew exactly who he was talking to.

“...and you will never become her if I can help it.”

You felt his hand slide to your backside, pulling you closer as he buried his face into the fabric of your skirts.

“Night after night…day after day…I fight with myself for fear of hurting you, of doing irreparable damage.”

His arm tightened painfully around you, and you gasped, reaching down to pull at his sleeve.

“...and for what? For a wife who still leaves these walls and puts herself in harm’s way even after her husband begs her not to.”

“I cannot…”

You struggled to breathe, and you no longer just wanted him to let you go…you wished to get away. You both heard and felt him press a lingering kiss to your stomach, his tears wetting the fabric of your dress.

“If I am to risk you in any capacity…then surely it should be for the betterment of us both.”

So focused on trying to take in air, you did not fully register his words and the implication behind them. Your chest was tightening and your stomach was hurting, and your husband was losing his mind, and you did not know how to convince him that he would not lose you too. You pushed further back against the wall in an effort to relieve some of the painful pressure when you could suddenly breathe again.

You sharply inhaled…and the sound of tearing fabric reached your ears.

The pressure around your abdomen was loosening in more ways than one, and when you looked down, Friedrich had his hands quite literally inside of your dress. It was one that your mother had commissioned for you, but you could not find it in yourself to mourn the loss of the beautiful gown. You were more focused on your husband’s sudden animalistic nature.

You said his name, pushing at his hands, but you were no match for his strength.

“I cannot stop,” you heard him murmur, making your blood run cold. “Do not dare ask me to stop.”

With his hand at your back under the fabric, it was not long before you quite literally felt the fabric and strings of your corset being pulled taut against your flesh before ripping and popping completely. A panic seized you as you fought to get away from Friedrich, and he fought to rid you of the mountain of layers that covered you.

“Friedrich,” you gasped, pushing at his face and head, but with his arms around you in a vice-like grip, you had nowhere to go.

You pushed one foot forward, a difficult feat with a grown man attached to you, and your husband did not like that. He pulled at your dress some more—pulling down—and the action had you careening forward as you attempted to get away from him at the same time. With the floor fast approaching, you were prepared to crawl away from him, but Friedrich was much quicker on his feet than you.

Arms that were now increasingly familiar to you wrapped around your waist, catching you midfall, and Friedrich’s chest was to your back as he stood and brought you with him. You could feel his facial hair tickling your skin as he leaned in, deeply inhaling and kneading his fingers just under your chest.

“I cannot…”

His words trailed off as he forced you to face him, pink lips parted and blue eyes glazed over. Every step back from him was followed, and his nose touched yours while one hand found a home on your cheek. His lips touched yours for half a second before you pulled away, and he let you, frowning at you as if you confounded him.

She vexes me so.

You recalled those words that were not meant for your ears.

“I cannot…” his frown deepened. “I cannot resist you any longer.”

He finally stole a kiss from you, his lips covering yours in a way that no one ever had before. The kiss at your wedding was sweet—chaste even—but this was nothing of the sort. Friedrich deeply inhaled your every breath and pawed at you and pulled you closer if at all possible. The kiss made your head spin, and every time you attempted to move your head back, he followed. It was hard to breathe with his lips on yours.

You realized that what you felt against the back of your thighs was the bed, but only too late and when Friedrich’s hands tightened on the neckline of your dress. His lips sought out the flesh of your throat as he pulled and ripped it open completely. His blunt nails softly dragged against your skin as he yanked it down, moving closer, and with nowhere else to go, you felt yourself backed into a corner.

Your resistance was clear, and your husband wrapped an arm around your waist, briefly lifting you before dropping you on the soft surface. His large frame found solace between your legs, and you felt irreversibly trapped. He towered over you and his mouth held yours captive and his arms did not allow you anywhere to go.

You gasped his name into his mouth, a protest in your tone.

“I no longer have the strength to keep myself from you,” he murmured into the kiss. “Do not ask me to for I cannot do it.”

His hand slithered between your legs like a serpent, and you squirmed in a way you never had before. You had never even touched yourself there on lonely nights, recalling how unclean and unchaste it was said to be, but Friedrich was your husband. Surely that made it okay…but then why did it not feel okay in your chest? Perhaps it was because he scared you and isolated you and kept you locked away like some prized possession.

You felt yourself growing wet beneath his touch, and a low hum climbed from his throat as you laid your hand on his arm. When a finger slid into you, you dug your nails into his arm. The feel had you blinking, and when he added another, your eyes widened. A third had you gasping and him cursing—something you rarely heard. You felt stretched, and when he moved closer, forcing your legs to part more to accommodate him, you hissed.

“Lie back, my love,” he murmured to you. “It will feel much better.”

You refused to, one hand on the bed behind you in some weak hope that you could stop this before it went any further. You simply wanted freedom, and pleading with Friedrich for something so simple had ended in him seeking out his own pleasures instead. You could feel yourself dripping around his hand with every thrust of his fingers, and shame filled you.

When you were unable to swallow down a moan, you hid your face.

“There she is,” he slowly whispered, and when his thumb brushed over you in a way that had your arm weakening, he took advantage.

In one fell swoop, you found yourself on your back, your husband on top of you and his fingers still pushing into you. Your ruined dress hung off of you in tatters, and Friedrich tasted whatever visible skin there was. His large frame kept you pinned to the bed, and your eyes rolled and lashes fluttered from the way he moved his fingers and his hand between your thighs. You weakly murmured his name, and beyond that, in the quiet room, you could hear his movements. You could hear the wet sound of it, and more shame filled you, but you were not given time to linger on it.

He sat up on his knees, reaching down with his other hand so that he played you with both. You felt your back arching, and your breathing grew more shallow, and one hand gently massaged your mound while the other continued to push his fingers into your slick walls. He curled them into you over and over, massaging your insides and pressing the pads of his fingers against you.

It was unlike anything you ever felt, and when your stomach tightened—a rope or a coil or something deep within your gut—you let it until it could not any further, and you were suddenly gasping and whimpering in a way that made you sound possessed. You could feel Friedrich’s gaze on you, and when you managed to focus your own on him despite the difficulty, he wore an expression that you were sure you had never seen before.

It made you want to cover yourself and shy away, and when he pulled his fingers out of you—a tinge of red on them—that was exactly what you set out to do. 

Feeling hot and confused and unsettled by the man before you, you reached for the covers in an attempt to hide your nakedness, but your husband would not have it. He climbed over you, keeping you pinned between his thighs as he peeled off his light jacket, his tie and shirt and undershirt quick to follow.

You imagined that your wedding night would have been something akin to this, but only without this level of unease and fear and confusion. As it were, your wedding night was nothing like this. You had been alone, convinced of your husband’s lack of care for you, and now almost a year later, you were squirming beneath him and wanting to be as far away as possible from the man who metaphorically locked you in the tower and tossed the key.

“Friedrich,” you choked out, pushing at his chest. 

He leaned in and kissed you again, and you felt every bit of him as he forced you out of your garments completely.

The tip of him brushed against your sensitive flesh, and you shuddered beneath him. He would not stop kissing you, tasting the inside of your mouth and inhaling every gasp that escaped. His normally perfect hair was in disarray, and when he reached down between you, his other arm was proactive in holding you tight and in place for him.

The feel of his cock pushing into you almost made you wish for his fingers instead. You thought that you felt stretched before, but it was nothing in comparison to the slow way in which he sheathed himself inside of you. You felt unnaturally full, and it took your breath away. Friedrich groaned from above you, and you felt a shudder crawl up his back as he rested inside of you.

“I tried,” you heard him whisper. “I tried so very hard…but I cannot go another day without having you.”

He slowly pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained before sinking into you completely. You could not stop the movements of your body, your hips lifting with his as if being carried by a wave, a breathless sigh escaping with every thrust. His bare chest was pressed to yours, and his burly arms kept you right where he wanted you, and you felt yourself slowly forgetting why you had ever resisted him.

“Endless nights of lying awake and knowing you were a mere room away,” Friedrich breathed against your skin. “So close…and so forbidden to me.”

The speed of his hips grew, and your nails dug into his skin, dragging over it as he plunged his cock into you with a vigor you did not know he had. He was always so cold with you, keeping you at arm’s length even when he was touching you. You recalled the feel of his hand on your hair and his fingers on your mouth and a brush against your waist. Always giving in just a little bit more until he no longer had the desire to hold himself back. Always staring and watching and craving.

It was so clear to you, now, and all you could think was that your mother was right…

…and you were a fool.

“I feared I would break you,” he panted, thrusting into you so strongly that the bed beneath you shook. “I still fear that I just might.”

He pushed himself up onto his hands so that he could look down at you, and the dull tender ache had started to subside, replaced by something that far exceeded the pleasure his fingers had given you. Your back arched, and Friedrich wasted no time in dipping his head to wrap his lips around a heaving breast. His tongue swirling around a hardened bud had you reaching up to thread your fingers through his dark locks.

He groaned at the action, and when he lifted his head again, his intense blue gaze sought out yours. You softly moaned every time his hips curved into yours, his cock smoothly sliding between your folds, now and stroking you in a way that momentarily convinced you your freedom was not all that desirable. Your husband did not look away from your eyes again, and it felt overwhelming to be beneath him and staring into his eyes and feel him within you.

One of his hands reached up to touch your cheek, and a frown formed between his brows.

“So fragile… It would take nothing for me to break you, to snuff you right out,” his words made your heart skip a beat. “You test my self control in ways that terrify me.”

His hand traveled to your neck.

“I was right to fear the monster that I would unleash if I ever got my hands on you…”

His fingers danced to the back of your neck, and he gripped the hair at the nape there, slowly and gently forcing your head back. His hips did not relent once, meeting yours again and again, the sound of skin meeting skin reaching your ears among other things that filled you with shame. So much shame.

“For I will never be able to resist you again.”

He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses along the expanse of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste the damp skin, humming at the salty nature the thin sheen of sweat gave it. You whimpered when he reached down with his free hand, fingers brushing against you and circling you as you greedily clenched around his cock. 

“If anything happened to you,” he whispered into your neck. “It would be my undoing.”

"The moon"

ok ya'll! I know I said I'm doing another chapter of this is me trying (and I am) buttttt I read @i-cant-sing's time traveler AU and I could not stop thinking about it. I'm muslim and it's Ramadan and I realized I have free will to write whatever I want, SO i present to you a platonic yandere story set in the Ottoman Empire. kinda based on real people and events, but a lot of things are just my imagination! I am NOT a history buff, I just enjoy historical things, if something is wrong, feel free to politely correct me. The main character is a female and does have a name (Esmira) and face type BUT i try not to go into her too much so you can imagine what you like. Credits to @i-cant-sing, it was their writing that inspired me! check out their works, they're really talented! I DO NOT SPEAK TURKISH, ALL MY KNOWLEDGE IS GOOGLED AND SURFACE LEVEL.

Ottoman Empire, Constantinople

Year 1524

I was my father’s moon.

"Benim ayım."

He called me that when I nestled against his side, his arms encircling me as he listened to my childish recitation of the Qur’an, my voice small yet steady. “My little moon,” he would murmur, pressing a kiss to my forehead when I finished. “No one recites as beautifully as my Esmira.”

To me, he was not Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent. The Lawgiver, the formidable warlord. To me, he was my beloved Baba.

I would giggle, curling my fingers into the folds of his kaftan. I never sat apart from him, never kept a polite distance. When we dined, I ate off his plate, tearing bread from his own hands, dipping it into his soup the way I had since I was old enough to chew.

"You will spoil her, Hünkârım," my mother, Medriveh, would say from across the room, watching as my father lifted me onto his lap, letting me pick the ripest dates from his tray.

"She is already spoiled," he would reply, laughter deep in his chest. And he would not send me away. He never sent me away.

I prayed with him, every dawn and every dusk, my small voice whispering after his as we kneeled on the prayer rugs. When my hands trembled in the cold, he would clasp them in his own, warming them against his palms.

"When you are older, you will have a place beside me," he had told me once, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. "Even when I go to war, my moon will stay in my sky."

I believed him.

When he rode through the palace gates on his great black stallion, I was the only one out of my siblings- Mustafa, Selmin, Mehmed, and Layla- he lifted onto the saddle before him. I would press my cheek to his chest, feeling his laughter rumble beneath my ear as he held the reins in one hand, keeping me close with the other.

I thought it would always be like that. I thought nothing could take me from him.

I was wrong.

My mother never hit me.

She did not need to.

Her weapons were sharper than any blade, her words precise and cruel, cutting deep where no one could see.

"You embarrass me, Esmira," she would sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose whenever I stumbled in my lessons or tripped over my skirts. "Must you always follow your brothers like a stray dog? They have no use for you."

"I just want to be with them."

"They do not want to be with you."

Her disappointment weighed heavier than any slap.

I had always adored Mustafa, Selmin, and Mehmed. I ran after them in the gardens, trailed them through the halls, sat at their feet as they practiced swordplay.

I wanted to be part of their world, to belong with them as I had once belonged with my father.

But they were always too fast, too sharp, too indifferent.

"Go away, Esmira." Selmin’s voice was rough, barely sparing me a glance as he wiped sweat from his brow, his sword resting against his shoulder. "We are not playing games."

"I can learn too!"

"You are not a soldier." Mustafa did not even look at me, already turning back to his sparring partner. "You are not even useful."

Mehmed was the only one who pretended to care, giving me his easy, careless smile.

"Little sister, you should be with the women," he said, flicking my forehead with two fingers. "We are busy."

"I just want to be near you."

"Then sit quietly. Do not make a fuss."

So I did. I sat in the dirt, in the sun, in the cold. I waited for them to acknowledge me.

They never did.

Layla was everything I was not. Four years older than me, and stunning. The true daughter of a Sultan

She was graceful where I was clumsy, beautiful where I was plain, loved where I was ignored.

"Your sister was never like this," my mother would say as she brushed my hair, her touch firm and impersonal. "She knew how to behave, how to walk, how to be wanted."

Layla was desired by all who saw her. Even the women in the harem whispered about her, about her elegance, her cruelty, her charm.

"You are fat, Esmira," she told me one afternoon, watching as I struggled to fit into the new silk kaftan our mother had gifted me. "And slow. And foolish."

"You are my sister," I whispered. "You should love me."

She only smiled.

"Love is earned, little one. And you have done nothing to earn it."

Then, one day, a week after my eleventh birthday everything changed. I was going to my father, to try and capture his attention again when I heard her. My mother.

"She is useless, Hünkârım. If you will not marry her off, then send her away."

I pressed my back against the lattice screen, breath trapped in my chest. I was too young to marry. Baba always said he would wait till I was eighteen. That he would keep me forever if I wanted.

"To where?" He replied sharply.

"To the Greeks," my mother said smoothly, as if my fate was nothing more than a chess piece being moved across the board. "The Basileus of Morea wishes for an Ottoman princess as a ward. A peace offering."

"She is only a child, Mehdrivan."

"She is a disgrace."

Silence. A silence so deep it felt like the air itself had stopped moving.

Then, finally, the words that destroyed me.

"Fine."

The world blurred around me. My heart slammed against my ribs, a desperate, caged thing trying to claw its way out. I waited till my mother had left, till i could no longer hear her cruelty.

No. No, no, no.

I did not think. I ran.

Baba

I burst into my father’s chamber, barefoot, breathless, trembling.

He stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the courtyard below. The glow of the setting sun burned against his silhouette, making him seem even larger, more untouchable.

I was eight again, running to him after falling in the gardens, scraped knees and teary eyes, knowing he would pick me up, soothe me, call me his moon.

But I was not eight. And he did not turn.

"Baba!" I cried, voice breaking.

Slowly, he turned to me.

For a moment, just a moment, his face softened. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the unreadable mask of a ruler, not a father.

"Esmira," he said, his voice even, measured. Distant.

I did not hesitate—I threw myself at his feet.

"Baba, please!" I clutched at the hem of his kaftan, my nails digging into the silk as if I could physically hold myself to him. "I will be good—I will do better! I don’t want to go! I don’t know their language, their God—they will kill me! Let me stay! I love you, Baba! I will stay by your side forever!"

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Stand up, Esmira."

"No!" I sobbed into the fabric of his robes, shaking my head, pressing my forehead to his knee like a beggar at the steps of a mosque. "Please, please, please, I will do anything! I will stop following my brothers, I will stop embarrassing you, I will be what you want, just don’t send me away!"

Nothing.

Not a touch. Not a word.

I felt his silence like a blade slicing through me.

"I do not care about peace!" I cried, hands fisting against him. "I only care about you!"

Finally, finally, he spoke.

"You must go, Esmira. It is for the good of the empire."

Something deep inside me cracked—so violently I swore I heard it echo in the vast, empty space of the chamber.

I recoiled from him, stumbling back.

"You are my father!" My breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. "I am your daughter! I am not a pawn for your empire!"

He did not move. He did not reach for me.

"You are a princess of the Ottoman Empire." His voice was hard, cold. A warlord’s voice, not a father’s. "You will do your duty."

I shook my head, tears burning like acid down my cheeks.

"If you send me away, I will never love you again."

Something flickered in his eyes.

"Esmira—"

"I swear to God, Baba!" My voice rose in fury, in anguish, in something too deep to name. "I swear by Allah Himself, if you listen to my mother, if you send me away, I will never forgive you! Never! You will not be my father anymore!"

His nostrils flared. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"You will not speak to me that way."

"You are not listening to me!"

I was screaming now, screaming as if the force of my voice alone could bring him back to me.

"I will hate you for the rest of my life!"

And then—he struck me.

The first slap sent me reeling. The second tore the breath from my lungs.

My ears rang. My vision blurred.

I staggered back, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.

He had never hit me before.

Never.

Not once in my entire life.

His sons had felt his hand before—when they disobeyed, when they failed, when they acted recklessly. But not me.

Never me.

I stared up at him, at the man who had once held me in his arms, who had once called me his moon.

I did not recognize him.

He was no longer my Baba—he was Sultan Suleiman, the Great Turk, the Shadow of God on Earth, the warlord who crushed enemies beneath his heel and ruled an empire with an iron fist.

And now, I was afraid of him.

His expression shifted. Regret flickered in his gaze. His hands trembled as he reached for me.

"Esmira—"

I flinched.

I flinched away from him.

For the first time in my life, I feared my own father.

The moment stretched between us, heavy, suffocating.

I saw the realization dawn on him—saw the way his chest rose sharply, saw the way his hands fell to his sides, saw the guilt carve into his face like stone.

But I did not give him the chance to take it back.

I turned and ran.

I did not stop running.

Not when I reached the halls. Not when the guards called after me. Not when my mother’s voice echoed in the distance.

I ran until my lungs burned, until the cold air cut through my thin silk dress, until the world blurred into nothing but streaks of gold and blue and white.

The moon above me was full and bright, casting silver light across the palace gardens.

I pressed my forehead to the earth, fingers digging into the soil.

"I will come back."

The words left my lips like a prayer.

"I swear it."

"And when I do, I will never love you again."

OKKK YA'LL??? WHAT DO YA'LL THINK??? YOU LIKE??? I TRIED SO HARD ON THIS SO PLS BE NICE! I'M KINDA SCARED TO PUT THIS OUT BC ITS NOT MY USUAL CONTENT AND I CHANGED MY WRITING STYLE A BIT, BUT I HOPE IT INTERESTS PEOPLE!! Likes, comments, asks and reblongs are always appreciated, also the platonic yanderes in this story are Sultan Suleiman, Sultana Medrivah, Sehzade Mehmed, Mustafa, and Selmin!

also, yk ur writings good when u got ppl in ur dms and asks telling u its AI. Like bitch please, I spend HOURS thinking of plots and dialougue only to have some random anon saying its AI????? like be fr.

Her family gets me angry. I want them to suffer. I want her to treat them terribly. I’m happy her friends are there for her.

Helllloooo how are you? I was wondering if you could make a platonic yandere neglectful family x disabled reader like reader either lost a limb when they were little and they have to wear a fake one? You can make it a one shot or anything I just want to see how you interpret it! Have a nice day!

Yandere fam x disabled reader

A/n: it's been a while motivation has been down lately but I manged to make something woohoo! This is my first time making these especially making a physically disabled character so please feel free to criticize and give me helpful tips so I can improved in the future please and thank you

TW: yandere behaviors, neglect, toxic family dynamics, violence, weird behaviors that I DO NOT condemn, violence towards reader?, ableism, And more read at your own risk, this is purely fiction please do not think what the parents are doing is right this is suppose to be shown in a negative light ableism isn't cool ty

"So when are you running away?" Your friend asked worriedly on the phone "Early in the morning im so fucking tired of them" you as you frustratedly threw a bunch of clothes, food, and other items you needed in the bag while hot tears streamed down your cheeks you andMotherer" just got done with another heated your mother had a habit of always blaming you and never on your brother even if your brother had the proof all over him and your father would back her up saying "listen to your mother" or " stop being so defensive and be grateful" or when your parents made everything about him

But it was never like that you were born with a limb reduction defect which your parents worried a lot but mostly about their reputation, so before your 1st Birthday they taught you the basics at an early age like how to crawl then after that walking,, fortunately, you were a fast learner which pleased your parents and the other parents at the daycare giving praises to them, they always told you to hide your prosthetic leg claiming that "the world doesn't like people who are different" Shorts were banned in the house. If so, they would force you to wear long ass socks that would cover your whole entire leg. Whenever a parent or a kid questions it, they excuse, "Oh, we are just protecting their skin from the sun! Or "It's just their weird sense of fashion" they'll joke about making sure no one was suspicious

You had a normal family and life with amazing friends your parents would always throw big celebrations even when it's something small inviting all the neighborhood kids and families "My what an intelligent child you have!" said a woman who filled them up with pride and joy "they must've had their mother's intelligence or their fathers easy going attitude" the kids would even praise you as well some jealous glances here and there but you didn't mind all you cared about was that your parents were proud of you that was all that mattered you would think as you ran to them in open arms all happy and smiles

Those memories now burned in the back of your mind.

Then your parents came home with a beautiful baby boy your eyes beamed at you seeing your parents smiling brightly as you saw the sleeping child swaddled in the car-themed blanket to be truthful it was the most happiest and painful memory of you holding and kissing your brother's chubby cheeks, how your father discovered you fell asleep in his crib while feeding him, how they'll laugh when you and your brother made a mess or you dressed him up in embarrassing clothing the two of you were like peas in a pod they'll say

But then it began it was when you got 2nd place on a scienceprojectyou worked so hard on "great job y/n!" Your father as father picked him up and twirled him around the room as mother had the biggest grin on her face "I'll be making your favorite dessert!" "YAYYYY!" Your brother then came home frowning both you and your parents rushed to him worried expressing on their face "honey what's wrong? Is everything ok" "i...I got 5th place on my spelling test" your parents were face fell "Oh honey it's ok how about we make you your favorite desert!" Your brother face lit up as your face fell

"but you said we were making my favorite..." your father came up to you with a reassuring smile "dont worry honey we'll make yours another time but this time your brother is feeling down dont you think it's a bit selfish to think that when your brother is down" you didn't say anything as your father walked away comforting your younger brother were you really selfish? You would think the feeling crushes you as you saw how sad your brother was so you sucked it up and didn't protest to avoid any future situations it was just one time right

That was untill it became more frequent

They often missed your special events like they graduated fifth grade with an all-A-honor roll and perfect attendance you wanted to show your parents but they weren't here rather they were at the ice parlor with your brother celebrating that he tied his shoes all by themselves your grandparents had to replace them for you and they took you out to eat at your favorite restaurant as at least but you were still hurt by your parents and bothers absence when you returned home they didn't even apologize they just made up some crappy excuse like "we didn't want your brother to feel like hes nothing" or something like that you didn't say anything but told them "i understand" it to yourself not wanting to disappoint them

But this was only the beginning on your 11th birthday they always brought you to a family entertainment restaurant and made an excuse like "Oh I'm sorry sweetie we'll go there next year let your brother have this" You nodded trying so hard not to cried right in their faces your grandparents were outrageous an out this and both had a big fight which ended up forcing you to keep a low contact on them

Or when you were tired of hiding your leg from your friends and showed it to them they all stared in wonder asking a bunch of questions about it when you got home they were horrified

But it didn't stop there on events like Christmas or Halloween they would buy your brother the most high-quality stuff and gifts while you got some hand-me-downs and had to wear your previous costumes that could barely fit you and would use the "we're on a budget" while ordering your brother the newest toy that cost over 200 dollars your brother didn't make it better as he would brag it off to you playfully which pissed you off resulting in you shouting at him scaring him off causing a drastic shift in your relationship

As time went on, your parents became distant and strained on you only strict when you did something wrong and needed punishing you began to argue as your brother just gave you dry responses and avoided you making some comments here and there you only came out when it was dinner time or some "important family meeting" which rarely ever happened

One day tho was the final straw it was a week before your birthday and your parents called you two down for an important meeting in the living room as you sat on the couch your mother announced that they were going on a family trip to a country you always wanted to go to Your eyes widened as they all cheered hugging each other are did they actually planned this for you? Did they finally acknowledge your achievements guess all the hard work paid off didn't it

Oh how naive and gullible you were

"Oh no y/n you're not going it's just gonna be the 3 of us"

"What"

You stared at them for a moment, thinking as if this was some sort of sick joke they were playing, but it was serious. They were actually serious, your father signed, frowning, trying to show concern. "Oh dear, but who will watch them?" Your parents started talking about letting you stay at relatives' house the room started spinning and without a warning, you threw a glass bottle across the room at a wall which startled your parents as they saw your teary-eyed glare

You lashed out telling them calling them all sorts of them and calling them out on their favoritism your mother started crying as your father in her defense stated that "they did everything for you" It changed from yelling matched to a heated argument with hurtful words were said as your brother watched in fear crying, you gave them one final "Fuck you" to them and slammed the door and break down crying calling your friend and telling them about everything

They suggested that you stay with them for a while

And here you are, packing everything you need, leaving this hell. "y/n, it's ok. I'm here," your friend's comforting words echoed in your ears as you continued packing; you felt numb at the moment, not caring about anything but just letting your body do. Wondered if you wanted to see your parents or even talk to them again but you knew you didn't wanna stay here anymore you couldn't take it you needed someone to comfort you to hold you close and tell you the things you needed to hear

For the rest of the night, Your parents didn't even bother to check on you or even yell at you after that your brother just stared at your door silently for a moment and slowly went back to his room your parents suggested that they would punish you dearly after the trip taking all your electronics away and such making sure you won't cause another outburst again

The next morning roam as you heard your window knocking signaling you that it was time your friend grabbed your bag you made your way crawling out the window taking one final glance at your room and then carefully jumping out the window feeling a sense of relief

As your family went on a trip you started warming up to your friend's family they were the opposite of what your family was they made sure you felt welcome always checking on you whenever you or your friend needed anything they even took you to your favorite restaurant on your birthday they called your grandparents reassuring them that you were alright and well and to not tell your parents about where you were

When your parents got back they realized that the house was quiet too quiet... they stomped up the stairs and went into your room and saw that you were gone... impossible you couldn't your mother started freaking out searching the entire neighborhood begging them to look for you while your father was pasting around the house think where you could be "Wait they must've stayed in our relative's house remember" your parents and brother jumped In the car and drove to each relatives house but they all gave them the cold shoulder for some reason even your grandfather threw cold water at them yelling at them to get out

They were all confused why were they given the cold shoulder and where could you be? They decided to go the last place they could think of

Your friends house

"Kids come get your dinner!" Your friend's mother, Mrs Rodger, yelled as the two of you raced downstairs, "hell yeah, taco night!" "Language!" She scolded as the two of you sat down amd began devouring the taco a doorbell rang along with some knocking you started getting worried and so did your friend as the knocking and doorbell grew louder and desperate your friend's father overheard this and walked up to the door looking out the peephole his face turned red in anger

"Kids I want you to go upstairs as quietly as you can do not make a single noise f/n make sure you hide y/n" Your friend nodded as they quickly took you to their room making sure they hid you in a safe place Mr. Rodger calmed himself down and opened the door to see your parents in an exhausted yet worried state their hair all messy and the mothers face all wet and eyes red from crying

"Hello, Mr and Ms l/n, what brought you here, oh, Mrs l/n, are you crying?" Mr Rodger had a worried expression on his face as your mother started wiping away her tears and nose with a soaked tissue. "My child, I...they're missing, and I think they ran away somewhere 'cause we had a nasty fight, and it ended horribly, and the next day they were gone!" Your mother started crying again as your father soothed her, trying to calm down as your father began to speak. "We were wondering if they were staying at your house?" "I'm afraid I don't they haven't gone to our house or even visited they didn't even call my kid's number I'm sorry-" they all stopped when they heard a bump from upstairs

"What was that?" your mother asked, trying to peek into the Rodgers house, but Mr Rodgers blocked her. "It's just my kid playing, that's all, ms," but your mother didn't have it. "Lies! You must've kidnapped my baby and given them back to me right now!!" Your father held your mother back as she started screaming at Mr Rodgers "Ms l/n you need to calm down I didn't take your kid" Your brother got out of the car watching everything in horror as your father tried to drag her back to the car as she screamed "give me back my baby"

You covered your ears and started crying as your friend hugged you comforting you as you held them tightly you never saw this side of your mother she was always calm and knew what to do she was very intelligent and mature for her age and now you hear her breaking down and screaming trying to attack Mr Rodgers while your brother begged her to stop "dear please calm down I'm so sorry Rodger well talk another time" as he placed your mother in the car and drove back to the house defeated

Ever since then everyone in the l/n house began to change a day after Mr Rodger heard from, the neighbors that your family started developing weird behaviors your brother would come in your room and would sleep in there while your mother would only eat what you eaten like favorite snacks to favorite dinners and even liked your type of fashion your dad on the other hand was a different story he began to think that everyone was a suspect to your disappearance he sometimes would bash on the door demanding you to come out for almost a hour for him to walk off when Mr Rodgers threaten to call the police

Your mother would sometimes come to your friend's house smiling unusually and humming your favorite song that you used to listen to as a kid or even start to taut you a bit reminding you about all the memories or either sobbing and begging for forgiven stating that they'll be better parents

The final straw was when you were finishing up your last class and you looked out the window to see your father smiling In the car waiting for you.

Eventually, you begged Mr Rodgers to let you change schools to avoid your family and decided that you weren't gonna go back there not yet.. until everything calmed down but until that, you held your guard up for the time being

You knew your parents were just gonna give up now then not now they needed you their precious baby and they were gonna do everything to get you back in their arms again

Yandere Ex Step “Kids” x Reader

Where the man you're dating and soon to marry have their reservations about you. Considering you're closer to their age and their father has millions in his name...

Thinking about the Step-family in question being adults; well established and acting on their own from their aging father

Unknowingly letting him fall prey to you 

Walking Temptation with a hunger for deep pockets and a smile innocent enough to make anyone swoon

It’s a shock when the next time they see their dad for the holidays he’s got you on his arm

Just a little bit older than them (half his age) and with a giant engagement ring on your finger

“You like it? Your dad got it for me when we were in Dubai!” 

“Uh Dad can I have a word? Alone?”

Taniya, his eldest is the hardest to grill you

Being incredibly open with her suspicions about you

And she’s the most vigilant when it comes to reprimanding her father for spoiling you

“Dad think about it (Y/n) doesn’t need another sports car! You’ve already gotten them two!”

In no uncertain terms, you’re sure Taniya hates your guts

If the way all the restaurants your future husband has worked with for some reason can’t serve you has anything to say about it, that’s likely the case

But you don’t mind!

That way you can take your man to the best place to get croquettes

Yeah it’s sketchy but that’s what his bodyguards are for

The second worst is his youngest, Titan

Classic attention-hungry influencer son who thinks pranks on you are going viral because everyone enjoys your misery as much as he does

“Your misery” is the curious tilt of your head when you find the leather seats of your range rover decorated with glitter 

Doesn’t really bother you though, so you’ll show off your new interior to all your new followers on socials 

Wonder where they came from

Finally the middle son Tariq always forgotten but not quite estranged doesn’t seem to dislike you too much

After all, he did start coming around the villa more since you’ve moved in

“Oh hey (Y/n) I heard those flowers my dad got you went missing, it just so happens to work out that I brought you some.”

“Those are my favorites! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. Anyway, I heard you got the latest VR tech, want to show me how it works?”

For a while you fall into a cycle with your fiance and his family

Eventually tying the knot in a luxurious venue in front of hundreds of masked billionaires

Of course, all your older husband’s kids decide to be civil

And all is well…until it isn’t

All too soon are the siblings gathered again when their father dies two weeks later

It’s all so sudden

With heavy hearts, their knowledge of his decline makes it better for the siblings to take on the funeral preparations

Begrudgingly Taniya takes it upon herself to try getting the funds from you, coming to the Villa prepared to argue

Instead, she’s met with one of her father’s most loyal bodyguards

Woefully opening the door

“(Y/n) has been too distraught to leave their bed since the…last hospital visit.”

“What?”

She would have expected someone like you to have been jumping for joy

Having tied the knot with a man who’d pay for any tuition you might’ve needed paid Taniya doubts it she expected you’d be as bubbly as others in your…profession

But instead of partying you were glued to the giant California bed clutching an old shirt of his

For once Taniya feels bad for you

“Uh hey (Y/n) I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come to the first meeting with the mortuary staff. We’re looking to pick a coffin and–”

Instead of something snarky or even an agreement, you throw a black card in her direction and pull the covers over your head

Barely smothering the crying sounds

“You know what? Maybe it might be best if I stay back here..with you.”

It’s all too easy for her to lend her shoulder as you wail about your late husband–her father

Its awkward for awhile and then it’s not

She weirdly looks forward to pulling your tear-stricken face into her chest she wore the v-neck for a reason while you discuss the funeral arrangements

Purposely making her meetings online so she can rub your back off screen

Finding that the lingering security guard–your unofficial butler is getting more and more on her nerves

Taniya doesn’t even realize she’s gotten this bad until she’s hoping the chandelier will fall on her brothers when they eventually show up

“Wow. You two are here. In-person…why didn’t you call?”

“I don’t need your permission to see (Y/n)! But you know I would’ve come sooner if my company wasn’t dealing with a major crisis by some mysterious corporate giant!”

“Don’t look at me, I told you working for a shady company would get you no where.”

“I cannot with you right now–”

“I also came-!”

“Shut up Titan.” “Please Titan we’re talking.”

Titan isn’t all that worried about his old man being dead except his allowance stopped

And technically he shouldn’t be staying in the Villa anymore…but his followers are asking questions

“And in here we have the–whoa crying widow alert!”

“W-what?!”

He gets a lot of hate for that one

And while his siblings circle around you like vultures he’s finding it hard to insincerely apologize so that you can do a follow-up apology video with him

He’s following you around so much and observing all your little quirks 

he worries it might be important when ‘apologizing’ so maybe he should record it…

Thus begins his long and greatly popular series of getting to know my dead dad’s spouse

He records as much as he can–what you eat, how you talk, how you whisper promises to the pictures of his dad you put up

It weirdly makes him question everything

It also has him posting to a new platform…a more hidden one

“Alright, guys! I actually got into their closet without issue we’ve just got to hope they won’t need to come in here anymore. OMG They’re back! I wonder what they’ll do…next. Uhm…sorry chat but I’m going to shut off the camera for awhile….I think this is just for me.”

Unlike Taniya who will hesitate, thinking of her father while cuddling up to you Titan does not think

Because after his copious amounts of stalking streaming with you

He's decided you will be his inheritance from dad

Clearly the old man wasn’t strong enough to handle you

So Titan would be the hero to sweep such a camera worthy beauty off their feet

Tariq doesn’t hesitate either 

he’s gotten over that the day he met you

Sure he misses his dad a lot less than he expected+ but he does miss the privacy he used to have with you

“Hey (Y/n) do you want to go out for a ride like we used to do.”

“Oh Tariq I’d love to but I already told Titan we’d do a muckbang with him.”

“And after that, we’re going to film our feet ASMR!”

“Titan I said I’d need to think about that–”

“What?! You already said no to the hot-tub stream, how much more of a Karen can you be?!”

“Okay okay, but I’d rather it not be live.”

“Duh, I may not ever want to post it.”

Tariq is so tired of everyone else realizing just how much you’re not like any gold-digger he’s ever known

In fact, you’re so bad at it that he doubts you were ever a gold digger in the first place

“Hey Tariq the lawyer had a question about the life insurance money, should I just write you a check or do I keep it? I’m so confused.”

“Wow uh, that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, but your dad always told me what to do with this kind of stuff. So what do I do?”

“Uhh, how about we open our own bank account and put it there!”

“Oooh like a married couple’s bank account?”

“Yeah just like marriage. It’s a little too early to ask right?”

Nonetheless, all three siblings are beginning to realize just how ‘bad’ of a gold digger you are

And they’re more than eager to show you the right way…as long as you change your allegiance to them.

Rules | Kofi | Masterlist

Good story

Written in the Stars

Platonic Yandere Older Brother & Younger Selkie Genderneutral Reader

Your home life is tense at the best of times, with your mother fickle and moody and your father more concerned with her than his children. It would be complete misery without your brother, Cillian, who looked after you the way your parents should have, a bright light in your gloomy days.

But as family secrets come to the surface and your life starts to unravel, you're forced to wonder if your brother is any better than the parents that raised him.

Content Warnings: confinement, forced marriage (not between reader), unhealthy relationships, abandonment issues, mentions of mental illness, child abuse, child endangerment, isolation, death, and general yandere shenanigans. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 10.5k

Authors Note: I played it pretty fast and loose with this one so I have no idea when exactly this takes place, but it's somewhere before the industrial revolution in Ireland. So if you're wondering why there's no modern technology, that's why lol also this turned out way longer then it was supposed to, I have no idea why, it was supposed to be a quick 2k story and then it just got away from me. Whoops. Also the mother and fathers story is loosely based on traditional fairytale of fish wives and selkies. I remember reading a couple and thinking "wouldn't it be messed up if they had children?" And. Well. You can tell me how messed up it turned out lol

You're sick. You were born sick, and you always will be. It's all you remember.

Your first memory was of little four year old you wandering out of the house. Father was fishing, Cillian was tending to the animals and Mother was resting because of sickness as per usual, so there was no one to stop you. No concerned caregiver to bustle you back into the house and scold you for your carelessness as you pouted for being denied your will.

You simply walked out the front door.

You had no understanding of what you were doing. Just a unceasing tug propelling you out and way from the house until the air smelled of salt, and you could hear the faint crashing of waves steadily growing louder.

Then there was the sea.

Your memories get fuzzy then, as your mind grew clouded by pure, blinding need. But you do remember the feel of grass slowly turning to sand under your bare feet. The way the rolling of the waves enveloped your mind completely, your eyes unable to move away.

Then your feet hit the cold of the water, and you snap awake, looking around, finally aware of where you are, and how far away from home it was. Confused and on the verge of panic, you try to call out for your brother only for your eyes to be pulled back into the blue, and all thoughts are gone, and you feel a deep, primordial comfort, the same comfort you imagine children feel when being embraced by their mother.

You step forward.

First, it's up to your feet, then your knees, then your waist. The salt water saps away at your body heat the deeper you go, but you don't mind it, you don't mind anything at all. After all, you're right where you're meant to be.

The salt water is almost up to your chest when you're swept off your feet and taken away from the water. You begin to thrash and cry, a horrible, searing pain in your chest at being separated from the sea, like a part of your being was torn from your body. Your cries are so loud, you don't even realize that it's Cillian who took you away until he turns you toward him and starts yelling at you.

The specifics of it are lost on you, but it's not hard to guess, given the circumstances. What you do remember is his young, acne covered face contorted in unfamiliar anger that you've never seen before or since.

It might have frightened you more if it wasn't for the immense pain and loss you were feeling.

But yelling wasn't enough for him. He starts shaking you by the shoulders and demands why you were there in the first place. You were still crying, nothing but running snot and big, hot tears, but you managed to wail an answer, even if it wasn't the one he wanted.

Put me back, put me back. I'm supposed to be there. It hurts. Put me back.

The shaking stops, and so does the yelling. There's nothing but your loud, desperate sobs as you beg to walk back into the sea.

Without warning, he picked you up and began to make the trip home.

You started to thrash again, increasing loud "NO NO NO"s running out of your mouth as your soft, weak body tries to slip out, but his grip is iron. He only squeezes you tighter until you eventually tire.

You spend the rest of the trip shivering in his arms, finally able to feel the cold again.

When you arrive home, he ushers you into your room and tells you to change out of your sea-soaked clothes as he heads towards another part of the house.

You obey, more out of habit then anything else, your mind still numb. When you finish, you sit and wait until he comes and grabs you, taking you into your parent's room.

Mother was sitting up in bed.

Cillian placed you beside her, and for a strange, uncanny moment, you stare into her unblinking, dark eyes. It's all you can do.

This moment last so long, you think she has fallen into one of her stupors. But she blinks, and the spell is broken. With her same blank face, she pats the bed. You tentatively comply, taking your place next to her.

"Cillian has said you've been to the ocean. Is this true?"

Her voice is soft, sweet, slow, and so foreign on your ears.

You nod, refusing to look into her eyes again.

"Tell me, what was it like?"

Your little mouth twist into a grimace. Something deep in you tells your mind to keep silent.

Your brother steps in.

"They were going to drown, Ma! They said-"

"Hush, Cillian."

She didn't spare him a glance, eyes trained on you.

Her hand snakes over your face, her cold flesh cupping your face as she turns your head to face her. Her eyes burrow into yours, and you can't help but feel small and weak. You have no more will to resist.

"Why did you go down there?"

"It was calling me."

"What was?"

"The sea, it was singing to me. I needed to go to it. I couldn't help myself"

For the first time in your life, you saw your mother smile.

It was a disturbed smile. The kind that didn't reach her eyes, that looked more like bared teeth then a sincere display of joy.

"I knew it. Your father tried to hide it, but I knew the moment you were born. You're just like me."

She let you go, and without another word, laid down, with her back turned to her children.

The entire thing disturbed and confused you, and you immediately looked to Cillian for explanation and reassurance.

Instead, you saw him frozen, a look of terror on his face as he stared at Mother's form.

But then he caught your eye, schooled his features into something more neutral, and carried you out of the room, out of the house, and into the sheep pen, where you wordlessly helped him take care of the animals until your Father came home.

Father was much more laissez-faire about the whole ordeal. Cillian explained everything to him, nerves alight after Mothers declaration, and to your Fathers credit, he listened patiently, never once interrupting the younger boys nervous speech. When Cillian was done, Father turned to you, and in a disturbingly casual manner, explained to you that your mother had passed on her sickness to you.

When you asked when it would go away, he laughed until Cillian yelled at him to stop.

That was when you got the news that though it wasn't as potent as your mother's illness, it was still permanent. You would live and die with this affliction.

You stood there dumbly as your father idly ruffled your head and told you that there were worse things to have. You think he was about to tell you to get ready for bed before Cillian exploded on him.

It was obvious you had no place in the conversation anymore, and you tried to make your way to your room before Cillian snatched you and took you to his room, his face red with tears.

You slept in his bed that night.

The following day, you were no longer allowed to stay in the house and play like you usually did. Instead, Cillian made you follow him wherever he went, not letting you stray from his line of sight. When your father came home that following day, he brought with him a bell at Cillians' request, which you were made to wear at all times, even as you slept.

Slowly, more symptoms began to manifest. At times, your mind would fog over, unable to focus on anything for periods of time. The sound of waves would ring through your ear, though you were nowhere near the shore. And occasionally, dreams of the sea would haunt you. Beautiful, painful dreams that would leave you crying in your wake, which in turn woke up poor Cillian. But ever the loving brother, he would go to your side and sooth you until you fell asleep again. In the case of especially distressing dreams, he would sleep with you, and no nightmares would dare plague you when Cillian was with you.

And, on very rare instances, you would feel it again. That same tug that changed your world, that demanded you return to the ocean where you belong. Your mind would switch off, and your feet would move of their own accord towards the shore. But you would misstep, or trip, or some other mishap would occur, and the bell would ring. The spell would break just long enough for you to run back towards Cillian and tell him what was happening before you slipped away again. He'd take you in his arms and mutter soothing words, keeping you close until the episode passed.

But those were few, and grew fewer as you grew older. Most days, the worst of your symptoms were brain fog, which was not pleasant but much better than walking towards a cold death in the sea.

No, most days were rather enjoyable. You would wake up to Cillian making breakfast and wait to eat until he finished serving your mother, who only ate in her room. Then you would follow him around as he did his errands for the day, sometimes helping, sometimes busying yourself with your own task. If he got done early, he would read to you or help you with your writing. He used to try and help with your arithmetic, but it became obvious that he wasn't good enough with numbers to teach you. Then, if your mind was clear, you would help with dinner and sneak bites whenever Cillian wasn't looking. Dinner would then be ready, and Father would usually be home by then, give you both polite greetings, and then he would take two plates and make his way to his room to spend the rest of the evening with Mother, as you and your brother spent the evening with each other until bed.

True, there were times when it felt like you were being smothered by Cillian and his constant worry and argue that you didn't need the constant monitoring. Sometimes, these arguments would get the both of you irritated beyond reason with each other, having you both oscillating between petty bickering and the silent treatment.

But those were few and far in between. Most of that time was marked by the games you would play with him when you should have been working, by the silly songs he taught you when you got bored of watching him work, of the gentle coaxing he would give when your mind wandered from you. Those moments when he would take you into the field in the middle of the night and teach you about the constellations, or help you make flower crowns, which he would gladly wear until they withered and fell apart. Those days he'd grow morose about one of the many worries he had, and you would comfort him the only way a child like him could be comforted: hugging him until he felt better. Or those dark moments when you were reduced to tears by your despair at your illness, afraid that one day it would grow worse, and you would end up like your mother. He would hold you tight while crying himself and reassure you that it would never happen. And if it did, he would be there to care for you and keep you safe until the end if his days.

But this wasn't meant to last. As the years went by, Cillian was slowly coming into his adulthood and needed to find a way to make a living for himself. Father had talked to him about teaching him how to be a fisherman, but he wholeheartedly rejected the idea. Instead, he went to town and asked for an apprenticeship with the local carpenter.

The first few weeks, he brought you with him, claiming it still wasn't safe for you to stay at home without him.

Though you loathed the thought of being treated like an unruly toddler and not a child old enough to keep house by themself, the thought intrigued you. You couldn't remember the last time you got to see the village, and the mere thought caused butterflies in your stomach. New places, faces, sights, and smells... perhaps you would enjoy this.

Unfortunately, reality had different plans for you.

It became obvious that you and your brother were not welcome in the village. There was never any violent confrontation or hurtful words thrown your way, but instead a lack of interaction. The other children avoided your presence, and the villagers avoided you and your brothers gaze, only speaking to you when polite conduct forced them to. You could swear you heard them gossiping about you, talking about "cursed blood" and something to do with the sea, yet every time you came up to them, they would act like nothing was said.

The carpenter himself was much kinder, but his time was spent teaching your brother his craft, and you were left to your own devices, more lonely than ever.

After the first few days of begging, Cillian finally relented, and you stayed home with Mother.

The following weeks were painfully uneventful, with you taking over Cillians chores and adjusting to the new workload. Your brain fog made it difficult, causing complications, frustrations, and occasional minor injuries, which Cillian would fret over when he got home. Not that he needed those to worry, as every day he came home, he would rush through the house, his face frantic with worry. He only relaxed when he found you, and you reassured him that nothing had happened, and you were okay.

By the fourth week, you couldn't tell him that anymore, because Mother had begun taking trips outside of the house.

It was the middle of the day, and you were doing some cleaning around the house when the door to your parents' room creaked open, and Mother came out. You called out to her, but she ignored you, steadily making her way out the front door and towards the shore.

You trailed after her a safe distance away, unsure of what else to do. You were always slightly wary of her, as her presence was always a disquieting one in your home. But a vague sense of familial duty kept you from letting her wander unaccompanied.

When the shore finally came into your view, she was already on it, knelt down in the sand, in the company of an adult brown seal.

Upon this image, you felt it again. That pull towards the sea, weaker than before, but just as familiar. You tried to stop, but your feet began to move against your will. Terrified, you used the last of your free will to clench your fist, digging your nails into your palms until they punctured your skin. Only then, the spell broke, and you were able to run back home, uncaring of what would happen on the shore.

An hour or so later, she came back, a faint smile on her face as she lazily wandered back to her room.

Not long after, your brother came home, and you told him everything.

His face sunk further and further as you spoke, and when you finished, he looked like a man twice his age. He took your hand gently into his, and all but begged you not to follow her again.

"To lose Mother would be sad, to lose you would be unspeakable. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

He then made you promise to not tell Father anything that happened, and you readily agreed.

But then Mother went to visit the beach the next day. And then the next. And the day after, and the one after that, until it became common place. The visits also grew longer, to the point where you and Cillian were worried she wouldn't be home when Father returned from fishing.

That day didn't take long to come.

She had left. You had worked. Cillian came home. You both cooked dinner. Then Father came home, grabbed dinner for both him and Mother, and headed towards his room.

Then the plates shattered on the floor.

He rushed out with the eyes of a madman and interrogated the both of you on where Mother was. Cillian answered for the both of you, saying she had felt in good spirits and had gone on a walk. Your father lost it on him, struck him across the face, and let out a string of curses before marching out the front door, leaving Cillian on the floor and you crying in his wake.

You did your best to help nurse Cillians swelling face as he did his best to console your silent weeping.

Little time had passed before you heard Fathers stomping and yelling once again, with the stern voice of your Mother mixed in. You both quickly took shelter in Cillians room before they made it through the door.

The arguing continued as they went inside and into their rooms, the walls doing little to muffle their voices. It lasted for ten minutes, twenty, thirty, and then an hour, with no signs of stopping. You held onto your brother as you both tried to wait out the storm happening in your house until Cillian decided that enough was enough.

He gently nudged your shoulder, then looked towards his bedroom window, and then back down towards you.

"You want to leave?"

You practically jumped at the opportunity.

He climbed through the window before helping you down, taking your hand and leading you towards the field where the sheep grazed. It was summer, so the night was comfortably warm, a full moon lighting your way. Your bare feet carefully tread the grass, making sure not to step on any burs or briars hidden in the greenery.

He stopped at a small flower patch that the both of used to love lazing around in before he had to take his apprenticeship. Cowslips, wild garlic, and wood sorrels dotted the area. He laid down and looked towards the sky, and you followed his lead, laying down next to him.

"Do you remember any of the constellations I've taught you?"

"Of course!" You say, a little indignant. How could you forget those nights of stargazing?

You search the sky, easily finding a few.

"Lets see, there's Aquarius...Capricorn... and I think that one's Gemini?"

You point in the direction of the cluster of stars, and he brings his head closer to see where your fingers led.

"Yes, that's the one. You know, some people believe the stars control your fate. Something about being born in a certain time of year connects you to certain constellations, and they determine everything about your life, even when you die."

Your brows scrunched together in confusion. You knew you were pretty sheltered, only having your brother, your father, and various books for news of the outside world, but this seemed rather confusing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't know too much about it myself. Some spinster stopped me in the street a few days back and asked me if I wanted my fortune read to me. I didn't know what she meant, so she explained to me how everything about our birth, when and where you were born, determines what will happen to you. She offered to tell me about mine if I paid her."

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing, her fees were too expensive, so I left."

"Boring."

He let out a chuckle. "Maybe."

The conversations then lapsed into silence, your eyes lazily gliding among the stars until he spoke again. His voice was hardly above a whisper.

"I wouldn't have asked for it, even if I had the money. Something about the whole thing didn't sit right with me. I mean, if your whole life is written out the moment you're born, what's the purpose of it all? All your struggles, all your accomplishments, completely meaningless. And those that are destined for a horrible life, what's the point in living, if it will only end in disaster?"

You turn over to look at him, his face almost imperceptible in the faint moon light as he stares up at the sky. His hands restlessly fidget with his sleeves as he starts talking again.

"No, I can't believe that. It's too cruel. Our feelings, our thoughts, our actions, they matter. We're more than our birth."

He turns to look at you, his eyes soft and a faint, an almost apologetic smile on his lips.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know a better life seems impossible now, but it'll all be okay in the end. I promise."

You nod back with a smile. It's always been easy to believe the things your brother says, even if you know otherwise.

You both turn back up towards the sky, watching the stars until Cillian got up and told you it was time to head home.

The next morning, things only got worse.

It all started with you waking up in Cillians' bed, confused and disoriented, before remembering that you had refused to creep back to your own room, too afraid to run into your own parents.

Next, you noticed the sun was higher in the sky than it was usually when you woke up. Blearily, you realized you slept in late.

So you decided to wake your brother, still sleeping on the floor, and inform him of the situation. After a few minutes of calling his name, you finally decided to shake him awake. He grumpily protested the whole ordeal and was about to go back to bed until you informed him of the time.

He then threw off his thin blanket, sprang up off the floor, and opened to door with you following behind.

Until he stopped.

You peered from behind your brother and saw your father sitting at the table.

Shouldn't he be away by now?

He gave a smile to the both of you.

"Good morning, children. Why don't you take a seat? I've already prepared breakfast."

For a moment, Cillian didn't move, and neither did you. Briefly, you contemplated turning around and taking refuge in his room again, but then he started to cautiously make his way forward, and you reluctantly followed.

You and Cillian took the only two seats left, both located close to Father. You distantly wondered where Mothers chair had gone.

Your brother started to place food on his plate, and you grabbed a slice of buttered bread, immediately taking a bite out of it. The sooner you could leave the table, the better.

Father grabbed nothing. He simply watched the both of you, the same smile from before still plastered on his face.

It was only now that you could make out the dark circles under his eyes and his unkempt hair. You could also see he was still wearing the same work clothes from yesterday. You don't think he slept a wink.

After a tense, quiet moment of watching the both of you eat, he turned towards your brother and began to speak.

"Cillian, my boy, are you still going into town today?"

He avoided his gaze as he replied.

"Yes, sir. I can't afford to skip any lessons."

"But you're already late. Surely, you couldn't do any more harm by skipping today?"

"I can't, sir. It would be disrespectful to miss an entire day without reason."

"I expected as much. I suppose it can't be helped."

Father gave a thoughtful hum before turning towards you.

"Well, I guess that leaves you, then."

You froze as your heart rate picked up. You briefly caught Cillians eyes, and saw your own panic reflected back.

Father continued on, like he hadn't noticed.

"I need to ask a favor of you. Your mother has been getting worse, as the both of you seem to know already."

He pointedly shot your brother a look before returning his gaze to you.

"And she needs her rest. Unfortunately, she does not want to rest. That's why I've taken it upon myself to make sure she does."

He gestured over towards the door of the room Mother lay, and you saw the missing chair propped up securely against the knob.

"All you need to do is make sure she stays inside. Don't let her out for anything. Not for food, or water, or even the bathroom. No matter what she says or does, you do not open that door."

He then reached out and placed a large, cold, and loose hand on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to shake it off.

"Am I understood?"

You nodded rapidly. "Yes, Father."

His smile grew wider and he gave your shoulder a pat before retracting his arm.

"Good. Because if she isn't in there when I come back, I will be very disappointed."

With that, he slapped his legs before pushing himself off the chair.

"Well, I'd best be off now. Take care, I'll be back as soon as I can."

He grabbed his coat, put on his shoes, and headed out the door.

After the sound of his footsteps subsided, you quietly got up and headed towards your parents' door.

Your hand had only come to touch the chair before Cillian grabbed you and pulled you away.

You wrestled out of his grip and turned to face him before his hands landed on your shoulders as he gave you a slight shake, his hands warm and unmovable.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed.

"What do you think you're doing?" You countered.

"Keeping you from making a mistake. Did you not listen to Father at all?"

"I did, and that's exactly why I'm doing it. You know this can't be right, Cillian, he can't keep her locked up."

"Of course this is awful, that isn't the point." He spat out.

You recoiled as far back as his hold would allow.

That seemed to make him pause he decided to close his eyes and take a deep breath, his features softening a touch. His voice was less harsh, but just as urgent as he spoke again.

"I know you don't want to be a part of this. I don't, either. But we don't have a choice here. With Father becoming more... unpredictable, it's better to play along with whatever he wants. Just until I can save enough money to get us out of here, okay?"

"But what about Mother?"

"I don't care about Mother, I care about you. Your safety goes above everything else."

You turn away, your eyes growing wet.

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, you just have to listen."

You wipe your eyes. He lets out a sigh and loosens his grip.

"Why don't you stay out of the house for today? Focus on tending to the sheep and chickens, or tend to the garden, or whatever you want. It'll be easier on you if you don't have to hear her, okay?"

You didn't move.

"(Y/N), please, look at me." He said quietly.

Against your better judgment, you did.

His face was fallen, his eyes starting to water like yours were. An unwilling feeling of guilt formed in your heart.

"Promise me you won't let Mother out." He pleaded.

You nodded, even though the thought of going along this made you sick.

He gave you a genuine smile.

"Thank you."

Cillian left soon after, and you tittered about in the house, trying to keep yourself busy. You thought about going outside the house and focusing on taking care of the animals like he suggested, but your guilt wouldn't allow you to leave Mother.

You had quickly come to regret that decision as not even an hour after Cillians departure, Mother tried to open the door.

Simple attempts at opening the door had rapidly grown more frantic until she was pounding on the wood. The sound encompassed the whole house, and you could only stand and stare like a trapped animal, torn between your duty to your mother and your duty to your brother.

And then she stopped.

And the whole house was quiet.

For some reason, you found the silence profoundly more disturbing than her hysterical attempts to break the door, and you half longed to hear them again.

As you debated calling out to her, the silence was broken by the sound of glass shattering.

The only glass in the room was her window.

You rushed out of the front door and ran around the side of the house to where the window was, only to see her exiting through where the glass used to be. He dress was torn, and her arms and legs were covered in minor cuts that dotted her in red.

"Mother!" You shout. "Are you okay-"

She turned towards you, came to an abrupt halt, and stared.

Her dark, dead eyes bore into you, leaving a weight on your chest you had never felt before. She knows, you thought. You didn't know what she knew or if there was anything to know, but it was the only thought in your head as she looked at you. She knows. And it made you wither before her.

She turned away and headed towards the tool shed. You followed her at a distance.

She emerged from the shed with a shovel and walked towards a small group of trees, of which she stopped in front of the old, brittle husk of what used to be a mighty oak.

And she started to dig.

It was obvious she was struggling. She had done little manual labor in her life, mostly content with wasting away in her room most days, so she had little muscle. She huffed and puffed, and even as far away as you were, you could see her arms shake with every shovel full of dirt. A foot into the ground, and you could see her hands start to bleed, the delicate skin tearing against the rough wood of the shovel.

But her face had stayed just as determined as it had been when she started, and her pace never slowed. As you watched, you could swear that not even hell could stop her.

You stood there and watched her toil knee-deep in the dirt, wondering what could drive such a woman to go to these lengths when you heard the sound of metal hitting metal.

With frantic movements, she began to shovel faster, then abandoned the tool altogether and desperately clawed at the dirt with her fingers.

Then she began to pull.

One tug. Then another. And another.

And then one final tug, and it was free. She staggered back, a metal box as big as her chest held firmly in her hands.

She wasted no time throwing it to the ground and undoing the latches that held it closed.

She took out something and stared at it for a moment before carelessly tossing it to the side. Out of her grasp, you could see it was a fur of some sort. Though you couldn't tell what animal it belonged to, you could see that it was rather plain looking, definitely not worth burying like it was some valuable treasure.

Yet why did it seem to tug at your heart, trying to draw you closer?

Your attention was torn from the fur as the sound of crying filled the air.

It came from Mother, now hunched over a larger, more beautiful fur, her face buried deep as he let out more heart-wrenching sobs. It was the most emotion you've ever seen from her.

You felt like a voyeur. This moment wasn't for you, yet you couldn't leave, transfixed by such both the fur and Mother.

It took moments for the crying to subside, at which point she slowly got to her legs, and she draped the fur over her shoulders like an oversized shawl.

It was like this you could see it better. It was white, and the fur sparkled in the sun like a jewel. It was also obvious that this was the fur of an adult seal.

Her head turned towards you, and you held her gaze, only for a moment, before she turned away and walked towards the direction of the sea.

As she made her past the horizon and beyond your line of sight, she didn't once turn back to look at you.

And you were glad she didn't.

You didn't know how long you spent watching her leave. Even after she disappeared from your sight, you still watched the last spot you saw her. You knew she wouldn't come back, and you hoped she wouldn't either, but that didn't stop the expectancy from growing inside you. There was more coming, and you just didn't know what it was or where it would come from.

Eventually, your mind snapped back to the present, and you became aware of your surroundings again. The sun had climbed quite a ways across the sky, telling you it was afternoon now.

With little else to do, you made your way to the discarded fur.

The closer you got, the more your heart trembled in your chest, and your skin itched in anticipation. It was so similar to the way the sea called to you, but more intense, and completely irresistible.

When you finally knelt down and grasped it, the world melted away along with the fog around your brain, and your mind gained a sense of clarity and sharpness you had never experienced before. And a beautiful, overwhelming feeling of completeness washed over you, like this fur was a long lost part of you, and you were finally, blissfully whole again.

This is what Mother felt when she touched her fur, wasn't it? It must be, because you started to to cry just like she did, face buried in your fur- no, a small voice in your mind said, your lost skin, as you tried to take it all in.

What relief, what clarity, what pain it is to be complete again. Who knew such an immense joy could bring so much hurt?

You only stopped crying when you heard a yell in the distance.

"(Y/N)! WHERE'S YOUR MOTHER?"

It was Fathers voice.

You whip your head to see the figure of your father coming towards you, only to stop as your body twisted towards his, revealing your second skin bundled in your arms.

His shocked expression quickly twisted to something dark, ugly, and angry.

He started walking towards you again, his movements similar to the confident prowl of a wolf coming across a stray lamb, far away from the safety of the herd.

And you felt your heart kick up, exactly like a lamb's would.

Without further thought, you draped your skin across your shoulders like Mother had, scrambled towards your feet, and sprinted away.

Father's heavy footsteps followed.

Past the sheep fields, beyond your property, from well trodden footpaths to completely untamed land, you dashed across the land with your father steady in pursuit, unable to escape his sight.

You didn't realize you were headed towards the ocean until you saw the sand of the beach and the deep blue of the sea.

Logically, you knew that the beach was a dead end. There was nothing there to help you down there, and you couldn't swim. But something inside you urged you forward, saying you would be free, if only you could reach the water, and after everything that happened today, you were inclined to trust it.

As your feet hit the sand, Father began to shout, all threats and insults.

When your skin met the sea, the sharpness in his voice disappeared, replaced with a desperation so unbecoming of a man once to confident.

When you were up to your waist in the salt water, and the rolling waves threatened threatened to knock you off your feet and sweep you out to sea, your father started to plead. To beg you to come out of the water and help him find Mother. He had momentarily lost his temper, he didn't mean to frighten you so. He's not mad any more, he's sorry, and only wishes you could come out and tell him where Mother went. To help him figure out a way to find her and to bring her home. If only you would get out of the water.

You didn't bother to look back.

You dove into the rolling waves, and something fantastical overcame your body.

Your clothes fell away from your body, and your seal skin filled with a strange energy, latching onto your human skin and merging until they were one. Your arms shrunk into flippers with dull claws, and your legs and feet merged into a sleek, powerful tail. Blubber formed around your body and neck, and nestled you in warmth. Your hair receded, and your head shrunk, with your nose and mouth forming the short snout of a seal.

Soon, you were darting through the water, further and further away from the cries of your father, and deeper into the blue.

You swam so far and for so long that when you finally came to the surface to breathe, you could no longer see the shore, with no recollection of which direction you came from. All round you was nothing but a yawning stretch of unbroken blue.

The sun had finally set, transforming the water into the same inky darkness of the sky, and you had still not found your way back to land.

You had tried to head back in the direction you thought you had come from, only to find nothing. So you tried another direction, then another, and another, only to wind up more lost than before.

Frustrated, you had given up for a time and decided to explore what lay under the sea, both in childish curiosity of what the world was like under the water and in foolish hope that you would find your mother, and she could guide you back.

Instead, you found dozens upon dozens of colorful fish and bizarre plants that you could scarcely dream of. You would follow these alien creatures as they scuttled and swam about with a sense of whimsy and awe, captivated by their strangeness. It was the most fun you had in a very long time. If only land could have creatures like this, it would be a much more beautiful place.

But soon, you had lost yourself in your exploration, just like you had lost yourself in the sea. When you finally stopped and resurfaced, the sky and sea had darkened, to the point you could hardly tell which was which.

It was only then you felt the effects of being at sea for so long. Though your blubber did much to keep you warm, the sea was always cold, and a chill had crept deep into your skin. Your stomach gnawed in hunger, and a great weariness started to overtake you. How much longer could you keep swimming?

You grew panicked, head whipping around in despair as you tried to find something, anything to lead you home.

In confusion and fear, you turned your head towards the sky, and it was there you found your answer.

The north star.

It was the first thing your brother had taught you when he took you stargazing. He would still quiz you on it every once in a while, just to make sure you remembered how to find it.

You can still hear his voice like it was yesterday.

"As long as you can find the north star, you can always find your way home."

A renewed feeling of energy washed over you, filling your weary body with resolve, and you pushed yourself towards home.

On and on, you fought against the choppy waves trying to push against your own struggling body and pull you further into the ocean, with nothing but thoughts of home to push you forward.

But after an unknown amount of time, you came across not the shore, but there, upon the horizon, the silhouette of a man upon a fishing boat, harpoon raised, as sharks circled him... no, those weren't sharks.

They were seals.

And that man you your father.

You abandoned your current course to swim closer, trying to understand what was happening.

As you crept up on the ship, you finally heard Fathers shouting over the rough waves.

"DAMN ANIMALS!" His voice was venom.

"WHERE IS SHE? I KNOW YOU HAVE HER! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!"

The seals began to nudge the boat, throwing him momentarily off balance. However, he quickly gained his composure.

"MY LOVE, COME BACK TO ME!"

There was no response.

"I'LL DRAG YOU BACK, ONE WAY OR THE OTHER, AND I'LL KILL WHATEVER BEAST GETS IN MY WAY!"

He regained his footing and raised his harpoon as if to attack, his face alight with manic anger.

But beyond his sight, you saw a beautiful white seal barrel towards the side of his boat, with no sign of stopping. In a flash, her body collided with the wood, and the ship was overturned, throwing Father into the dark sea before he could scream.

It was only a moment before he resurfaced, harpoon gone, struggling to keep his head above water.

"DON'T, PLEASE-"

A seal broke off from the circling pack, bit down on his leg, and dragged him down, disappearing beneath the surface. You tensed, afraid that the seal hadn't let him go, but he broke through the waves in a manner of seconds, choking on salt water.

He struggled against the current, coughing his lung out as he tried to make his way towards his capsized ship.

Then another seal did the same, taking him underwater but holding him down just a little longer. When Father resurfaced, he began to exclaim in fear, begging for mercy, and then for Mother, before he was dragged back down again into the inky abyss.

And then it happened again.

And again.

You caught sight of the same white seal who had brought this fate upon him. She had positioned herself slightly away from the rest of the herd, content to watch from afar. Perhaps she thought her part over, or perhaps she was merely waiting for her turn again.

Slowly, she turned her head towards you, as if she knew you were here all along.

She didn't say a word as she looked at you, but you knew what she was trying to tell you.

You don't belong here.

And perhaps she was right.

You turned away from the brutality happening in front of you, and found the north star again. With your bearings, you continued your journey home.

When the shore finally came out of the horizon, you could have jumped for joy. You pushed your tired fins to the max, wanting nothing more than to finally return to land.

As you came closer, you could make out the dark figure of another person, frantically walking along the shore line, calling out to the sea.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! IS THAT YOU?!"

It was Cillian.

You felt such a sense of relief upon seeing him, you could cry.

You tried to call out to him, but it only came out in the strange barks of a seal.

He ran towards the water, only stopping as it reached his waist, your abandoned clothes clutched it his hands as he continued to shout your name like a madman.

You pushed and pushed, willing your aching body to go faster and faster until you were upon him. His arms were held wide, and you leaped into them as he caught you with ease.

Then that strange, magical sensation happened again.

Your skin warped and twisted, growing and then separating itself into two, your seal skin wrapping around you like a robe. Your tail and fins turned back into arms and legs, with the rest of your body following suit. All the while, Cillian still held you, red rimmed eyes in awe over what he saw.

And just like that, you were human again.

He took your face in his hands, one cupping your cheek as the other stroked your hair ever so gently. His hands were cold from being out for so long, and they shook slightly, whether from adrenaline or exhaustion, you couldn't tell. Yet you found yourself leaning into them anyway.

His face was red, and his eyes were wet and puffy. His chin wobbled as much as his voice, unable to contain his emotion.

"I thought you were gone. I came home, and you weren't there, and I couldn't find anyone. I looked everywhere, and when I found your clothes, oh God, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would be alone."

His voice broke down into wordless sobs, his hands letting your face go only to wrap you into a crushing embrace. You found yourself beginning to cry with him.

"I'm here now." You told him, your own voice faltering from your tears. "It's okay, I'm here."

His sobbing only picked up, sounding like those rare occasions when he cried as a child.

"Oh, my baby. Thank God, thank God."

You stood there, held fast in his arms, as the ocean waves pushed against the both of you, sapping the warmth out of your body, but you couldn't bother to care. You thought you could stay like that forever, safe and sound in his hold.

But his hold began to loosen, and he looked down at you, face haggard and tired.

"Let's go home."

You nodded and took his hand as he led you out of the sea and towards land. But you felt like your body was made of lead, and you kept stumbling, almost falling back into the water. That's when Cillian decided to pick you up, arms under your knees and back in a princess style hold. You didn't protest, exhaustion leaving you too weak to reasonably object. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder, arms securely holding your second skin around your body, as he took you out of the water.

As you exited the beach, the cold had finally caught up with you, and you began to shiver violently.

Cillian looked down at you, face pinched in concern, before focusing back on the path ahead, picking up his pace.

"I know, I know. We'll be home soon. We'll get you dressed in dry clothes, and I'll get a fire going, and you'll be warm before you know it. Just hang on."

You nodded, pressing yourself further against him, trying to share his body heat.

The journey dragged, the cool night temperatures making your symptoms worse. With each breeze, your shivering would pick up, and he would hold you tighter, as if he could solve the problem by only keeping you closer.

By the time you made it home, your fingers, toes, and nose were numb.

He tried to set you down carefully in front of your room, but his shaking, tired arms had you plopped on the ground more roughly then he intended, leading to him profusely apologizing and checking if you were okay.

You looked up to him and saw the way his fatigue wore on him, from the droopiness of his eyes to the sag of his shoulders and the way his wet clothes hung off of him. You wish he wouldn't apologize so much.

"Change into something warm, and I'll get the fire going, alright?"

You nodded and then went in your room to change, clumsily slipping on your normal nightwear. Still shivering, you then grabbed the blanket off your bed and bundled yourself with it before taking your wet seal skin and walking out of your room.

When you went back to the living room, Cillian was in dry clothes kneeling next to the fireplace, having finished loading the logs into the chimney. With a few strikes of the fire steel, a small fire began to grow on the wood, bringing a welcome heat with it.

You carefully hung up your second skin near the fireplace so it could dry and then sat down next to your brother, watching as he tended to the small flame, making certain it wouldn't go out. After a few minutes of carefully feeding it small, dry branches, it had taken to the bigger logs and grown to a healthy size. With a noise of contentment, he pulled the metal screen over the fireplace opening and leaned back, a drained expression falling on his face as he took a moment to soak in the heat.

Then he turned to you with a small smile.

"Feeling better?"

You nodded, your shivering having gone down some.

"But I'm still cold."

He opened his arms and waved you over. You didn't hesitate to go to them, taking your blanket and wrapping it over his body as well as yours as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head leaned against his shoulder, and his chin rested on your head.

And for a while, no one spoke. You sat snug in his hold, the warmth of the fire, the reassuring weight of his arms, and the steady rise and fall of Cillians chest, you were easily lulled into a state of half consciousness, bringing you a sense of peace.

But then your brothers voice, rough and low, spoke.

"Why did you leave?"

It took you a moment to process the question, mind fuzzy and slow from your exhaustion.

"Father was chasing me. I didn't know where else to go."

"You didn't have to stay gone for so long. You knew I would be home soon."

"I got lost."

With those words, his chest hitched, like he couldn't breathe. You hastily tried to reassure him.

"But when night fell, I used the north star to guide me home, just like you taught me. It all turned out okay in the end."

He shifted, his hold growing tighter.

"Don't you realise how lucky you were? If the sky had been overcast and you couldn't see the stars, what would you have done? How long would you have lasted at sea without its guidance? What if you had swam into a shark, or God forbid, a fisherman..."

His arms grew suffocating, to the point of pain.

"Cillian, please." You whimpered.

His grip immediately loosened, and he looked down on you, apologies spilling from his mouth once more.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it just- it scares me. You scare me. And I hate how frightened you make me. You can't go back there, (Y/N)."

What could you say? You felt guilty about making him so upset, but you couldn't promise to not return to the ocean, either. Yes, your first trip in the water was terrifying, but it was also freeing and beautiful. You wouldn't feel complete without being able to go there again.

You chose to stay silent.

He pressed you gently back into his chest and began softly rocking you, one hand around you and the other carding through your hair.

Eventually, you drifted off, the soft crackle of the fire and the gentle sway of Cillian's hold following you into your dreams.

The next thing you know, you're swaddled in your bed, sunshine streaming through your windows.

It takes you a while to get up, the ordeals from yesterday still weighing heavy on your body. But eventually, hunger pangs form in your stomach, and you force yourself to leave the safety of the blankets to get food.

With your blanket wrapped around your body like a cloak, you slowly shuffle out of your room and towards the kitchen. You dully make note of how high the sun is, meaning you had slept well into the afternoon. You hope Cillian let the animals out before he left.

Once in the kitchen, you cut a slice of bread and stand there, chewing on it slowly, eyes half lidded as not one thought crosses your mind.

Then it hits you, a delayed wave of dread washing over you.

Your skin.

You had left it near the fireplace, right? You were fairly certain of it being wet, and you had wanted it to dry. Therefore, near the fireplace was the most logical place.

Uncertainly, you take the few steps it takes to get to the living room, and can find no sign of it.

But you remember putting it here. At least, you think you remember.

It occurs to you that, upon separation from your skin, that mental acuity you had gained from it was now lost once again, and your brain fog has rolled back in with a vengeance.

You look around the fireplace, turning over baskets and boxes and whatever gets in your way, before expanding your search to the living room, then the kitchen, then your room. You even dared to look through your parents' room and Cillians room for no other excuse than your rising panic at not being able to find that vital, beloved part of yourself.

All higher reason left you as you left your house to trace back your journey from the beach on the wild belief that you could have dropped your skin, despite knowing that it had stayed wrapped around your body the entire time.

The further into your walk, the more the pit in your stomach grew, climbing its way into your throat until you threatened to choke on it, tears leaking from your eyes all the while.

It was only upon not being able to find the skin anywhere on the beach that you collapsed down on the sand, your wailing a companion to the roaring of the waves.

It was there Cillian found poor you, face a red, blotchy mess of snot and tears. He knelt beside you, out of breath from running to find you. He tried his best to calm you down despite looking panicked himself, but you had worked yourself into an unmanageable state.

After a desperate few minutes, you had slowed down just enough to wail out, "I can't find my skin."

His mouth formed a grim line, face becoming unreadable. Without another word, he picked you up and carried you home once more.

You didn't bother fighting it, only continuing to cry until it tapered off to pathetic little whimpers, and then total silence.

You barely registered that you were home, that Cillian had placed you upon the floor, near the dwindling fire where you collapsed. You stared into the small flame, not being able to comprehend anything. The world had become too much, weighing heavy on your mind and body to the point that you didn't have a will to care about much anymore. Except, of course, for one thing.

After an unknown time, Cillian sat down next to you, apple in hand. He made a gesture as if offering you the food, but there was only one response on your lips.

"Do you know where my skin is?"

He turned away from you and faced the fire again, taking a bite of the fruit, and you stared at him as he chewed. Chewed, chewed, chewed, and then swallowed it all down.

He nodded.

"Yes, I know where it is."

You felt your eyes light up, a surge of hope coursing through your body.

"Where is it?!"

He didn't turn to look at you. His face didn't even so much as twitch.

"Cillian, please, where is it? Where's my skin?"

"It's somewhere safe."

"That's isn't an answer." A heat began to form in your voice. "Where is it?"

"What are you going to do with it, when you get it again?"

The question took you off guard, making you sputter for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to try and leave again?"

Your patience gave way to your anger.

"I didn't leave you, I was trying to run away from our crazy Father, who would have done God knows what to me if he caught me. And I didn't want to be stuck out at sea for hours on end! And I came home, didn't I? I want to be here, why isn't that enough for you?!"

His finally turned towards you, face twisted and sharp.

"You came back this time." He spat. "But what about the next? What's to keep you from deciding to stay in the sea if I can't be there to stop you? Just look at you! A day hasn't even passed, and you're already running back towards that accursed beach."

Heat rose in your cheeks, and your voice rose.

"And so you steal from me? You take a part of myself and hide it from me? How dare you! How dare you do what Father did!"

The veins in his head began to pop up at your words.

"I'm nothing like him, Father was a monster!"

"Then prove it! Give me back my skin!"

He stared at you, eyes wild, huffing like he had just run across the property. You held his gaze, just as angry and stubborn, unwillingly to back down.

He jolted up, then stalked across the floor and exited the house with a slam of the door.

You could only look after him in silence.

After Cillian left, you had slunk off to your bed, not knowing what else to do except to lie down and wait.

Eventually, you fell into a fitful sleep, not even able to find reprieve in your dreams, where you saw your mother taking your skin and running as you desperately tried to catch up to her. But no matter how fast you ran, or how hard you pushed yourself, you fell further and further behind until she was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

A hand came to rest on your head, and you jolted awake with a start, heart racing and eyes wide and unseeing, until a voice called out to you.

"It's okay, (Y/N), it's okay, it's only me, Cillian. Calm down, you're safe."

In a few short seconds, your eyes focused on the figure sitting on the edge of your bed in front of you, and it was indeed your brother, face composed in a reassuring smile.

You took in your surroundings, noticing it had gone completely dark, with only a candle placed on your nightstand to offer any light. There was no sign of your skin.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to wake you up. It looked like you were having a nightmare."

You slumped back in your bed, and frown easily forming on your face.

"I was." Is your meager reply.

"I'm sorry about that. Do you want to talk about it?"

You look away from him, frown deepening.

He sighed. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

Silence.

"The first time you wandered off, trying to return to the beach, Father had taken me aside, and told me a story of a young, lonely fisherman who had come upon a beautiful, naked lady dancing on the beach. The fisherman had become enchanted with this strange woman, believing to have fallen in love at first sight. After having watched her for some time, he came to spot a stark white seal skin near the lady. It was then he figured out that the woman was not a human, but a selkie, a mythical creature with the ability to change their form from seal to human. He knew he had to have her and crept closer and closer, until he was able to snatch the skin away. She pleaded for it's return, offering anything to have it back. He had said he would, but only on the condition she became his wife. She relented, not having another choice. Of course, Father had then revealed that this was the story of how he met Mother."

You sat there, staring at him in shock.

"You knew that Mother and I were selkies, and you said nothing?"

"No, that's not it. I didn't believe a word of what he said, I thought it was the delusions of a sad man trying to find a reason for why his wife was so ill. I didn't start thinking of the story until Mother went visiting the beach, and even then, I wasn't sure until I saw you transform in front of my very eyes."

He sighed once more.

"But that wasn't all. Father had said that though I was human, you were a selkie, and that he had taken your skin as soon as you were born and hidden it away with Mothers. He believed that if you never had the chance to transform, the illness from Mother would lessen, and eventually, you would turn human. I thought he was mad, but now that I am able to think... he was right, wasn't he?"

You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"Your illness wasn't as severe as Mothers. You were able to live normally for the most part. Sure, you couldn't always focus, and your mind would wander, but it was getting better, wasn't it? In a few more years, you might have turned human. Unfortunately, Mother stopped that from happening, but it can be done again."

He placed a hand on your shoulder, cold and iron tight, with a sickening smile stretched on his face.

"You'll be rid of this disease, and you can be human, like you were meant to. And I'll be here to take care of you until it happens."

You couldn't speak, couldn't move, could scarcely breathe. You could have cried, but all the tears and anger had left you earlier that day, leaving you to mutely stare at your brother, your only family, the only one you trusted, who you thought would protect you from the horrors of the world you lived in, in a complete and all consuming horror you have never felt in your life.

A moment passed, and you managed to find your words once again.

"Cillian." Your voice is quiet. A gentle breeze could drown it out.

"Cillian," you try again, "please. Where is my skin?"

His face falls and shoulders sag in disappointment.

"I know it will take you a long time to adjust, but I promise, this is for the best."

You shake your head, but he only brings you in for a hug, holding you gently as if you would shatter at a moments notice. You have no energy to fight back.

"Please. Give me back my skin."

He only shushes you, rubbing circles into your back as you continue to plead for the only thing that could make you feel whole again. You stay there until your voice goes silent, your body slack, and your eyes shut. Until you fall asleep in the arms of your brother, under the roof of your father, and under the stars that sit unmoving and unforgiving in the darkness of the night sky.

I love this so much

. ᭢ 🦢 Yandere! College Frat Boy

a//n :: first post on this blog heh. might or might not be projecting my type of guy. feel free to suggest / req yanderes or him!! I really want to write more about him. He is a soft yandere, so like.... sorry if you expected more LMAO. There might be some grammar mistakes, sorry for that!

minors dni !!1!!!

wrns // tws :: rumors, stalking. light yandere behavior.

word count :: 1.8k words

g/n reader x frat boy ( Kaelum Bianchi)

— The university you had just enrolled in was quite a prestigious one, with multiple connections already established to said college. Many doctors, politicians, and those high in the social ladder have their daughters and sons put through here, be it through bribing or the extremely harsh exams.

— You had taken the latter, and the professors gave you a schedule that seemed pretty normal. All pretty mundane classes throughout the day depending on your electives and course.

— In one of your mandatory classes was Kaelum Bianchi, one of the boys that partied till no end in the weekends yet passed with stellar grades. With slightly curly golden hair, an almost sunshine grin, and a wonderful figure. He was obviously a social butterfly, always chatting and yapping to the professors of whatnot and students even more. You were quite suspicious of him. Did he somehow seduce the teachers, or was he just a genius? You couldn't lie, your interest was piqued.

— From his end, you were already someone he had taken note of from the start. Yes, he was popular. Everyday he had some random girl compliment him and confess to him, (he admits it felt nice being praised and 'loved' by random girls and boys he could care less of, though he does reject them) he couldn't quite understand why you were somehow a little bizarre. You were attractive, sure. Extremely, even. He couldn't count how many times he bit his lip trying to look away and control himself. You clicked the pen absentmindedly whenever you understood the lesson too well, or were simply bored, You made eye contact with him at one point, and merely smiled. Yeah, you were odd.(you weren't, he just wasn't used to people not liking him at the beginning) There was an air around you, and at one point, a few weeks after you had first enrolled, he had enough of simply looking from afar, and made a move. You studied well, and while he knew you didn't have any connections. he'll just change that.

— You sat near the exit of the class, as usual, when suddenly an ashamedly charismatic man decides to make the empty seat next to yours his now. You didn't have much friends, and when he makes slightly fulfilling small talk between classes— not too much, and he pipes down whenever you take notes—, you couldn't help but laugh at his remarks. You missed the way his eyes turned smitten at your lips curling upwards, and the way he grips the wooden table as if resisting temptation to lean in. At the end of the class, you had most of his friends' socials and his, and he asks you to come to one of his major halloween parties at his place. There were some colleges that only allowed in campus-dormitories, but since the demographic of the students were all practically rich kids with their own homes and apartments, they let that tradition diminish.

— You agreed, and he grins, nodding before watching you head out. That night, he stalked all your socials, quickly finding out what your hobbies were, what your music taste was, who you were online essentially. Multiple of his friends questioned him when he had texted you with compliments, wondering if this was a fling or a crush. They were a little confused, but mostly supportive, especially with the way he talked with them about you 90% of the time ever since that night. They agreed to be his wingmen and help you with anything if they saw you. He was extremely popular throughout the entire campus, and if word came out that he suddenly didn't like you? No one liked you either.

— You continued to hang out with Kaelum and talk. During class, at the restaurants and mall nearby, the parks, even near your own apartment by random. That last one was a bit creepy. Yeah, he lived 30 minutes away from your house and in the opposite direction of school, so him simply being on a walk was a little too weird of an excuse. But he was one of your closest friends, hell, you stayed in his house more than your own. And you had to admit, you had a little bit of a crush on him, so you quickly brushed it off. I mean, he would never stalk you, right?

— More time passes before the party, and he suddenly gives you an array of gifts. It ranged from cute gag gifts, heartfelt ones, to randomly luxurious ones. There was a time where he gave you a permanent bracelet that cost in the hundreds of thousands. "Give it to someone you truly love." His mother had mumbled when she gave it to him, and he took it to heart. When he gave it to you, that same pressure didn't really apply. When you looked at the delicately adorned jewelry, he simply stated. "If you don't want it, I'll just get you something else, okay?" While he was sentimental, he didn't except you to be the same. He would still love you nonetheless. Of course, you were grateful and ruffled his hair in gratitude. He smiled, 'jokingly' kissing your hand in return.

— Many things and activities that seemed like what only couples did, felt casual between the both of you. He knew how to lighten the mood, and to weave through the boundary of just friends to something more. After a while, he couldn't bear hearing you call him just a comrade. He could hear and feel the "ooh....damn." and pitiful glances of his brothers at the frat whenever he got bro-zoned. For the second time, he decided on making his move.

— It was Friday night, the day of the party, and Kaelum swore he was about to pounce on you. He could feel his own self control breaking down simply looking at you. The metallic taste of blood inked in his mouth from biting his cheek too hard. He smiles, complimenting your outfit and leaning in closer to you than normal. The house was extremely big, with many rooms and blaring music and lights. There were 3 floors, filled with random people, presumably his friends. His sole focus was on you though, and as both of you danced late at night. At one point, when the lights flashed off for just a second, he suddenly kissed you. It was brief, and if you didn't feel his hand hold your chin so gently, you wouldn't believe it was real.

— Shocked was all you felt. Practically the king of all social gatherings in one of the most influential schools in the country? Kissing a little nobody like you? Yeah, right. He was probably just doing a bet. And with the way three new frat members were laughing, it basically confirmed it. You began to run away from the party, dumbfounded and face red. You couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the kiss, though. You could hear Kaelum running after you, and you felt embarrassed.

— He, on his end, felt heartbroken, and most of all, hurt. Did you not like him the way he liked you? The countless nights after parties he thought about you, wanting to feel you. He wasn't a player, and even less so when you came into his life. Was it something he did? Something he lacked? He could give you anything you needed in your life. He was the epitome of generational rich, a nepo baby essentially. Just give him the word, and he'd give it all to you. Or was it because you had someone else in mind?

You were ashamed and were fighting the urge to cry as you made your way to the backdoor of the mansion. It was an area that a lot of people did not know even existed, but Kaelum showed it to you on one of those nights you stayed at his place. Damn him, you thought. Even if you felt betrayed, you still loved the guy. You were about 4 steps out before a voice stops you in your tracks. "Do you like someone else?" Kaelum caught up to you frankly quickly, with his long frame and sporty background. You looked back at him, and you felt his hand grip your shoulder tightly. You rolled your eyes. "I'm not one of your side links, Kaelum. Stop following me." You could see the way his brows furrowed, his eyes blinking in confusion. He steps closer.

"I never said you were my side?- Who said that? Was it one of my friends?...No, they aren't that stupid to piss me off. No, I got it. It must be those three new little shits I saw earlier. Oh my god, I'll fucking kill them-"

Don't. You did this for a dare right? Kissing me?" The second you said that, he looked offended, like a puppy that got kicked in the rain. A slight pout was on his lips, and he leaned down, almost in a submissive manner.

"No. No, what? What are you on-... sigh, sorry. Didn't mean saying that. I would never do that, especially not to you. I'd rather kill myself than do anything that could hurt you. I look for you in every class, and in every corner of our college. I need you, ___. In a way that I don't think is healthy." At this point, you were already in his embrace. It felt suffocating, almost. "So please, don't leave." You couldn't dare to reply. Part of you was happy, but another part of you felt like if you did leave him, he would've ruined you.

— You stayed there, outside near the back entrance of his house the he only showed to you. In an embrace only just a little bit too tight and reliant, with a boy completely obsessed with you.

— He ends the party earlier than usual, time being 1am, and for the rest of the night, you stayed in his bedroom, having had a cold shower, watching movies with a seemingly infinite supply of food and drinks provided by one of the family's in-house maids. He popped in from time to time, checking in on you and talking casually. Only thing that changed was now his eagerness to touch you.

— Outside, while saying goodbye to the partygoers, Kaelum spreads rumors about the three new frat boys. It was scary, how fast he had changed personalities. Horrible words of gossip spread quickly through each and every college group, and even the most lonely people knew of the "crimes" those three had committed. By the next day, no one wanted to be acquainted with them, and the majority of those in your classes outwardly became friendly to you, seeing you as an innocent victim to their 'harassment.' You only glared at Kaelum, to which he responds with a whistle and shrug.

all rights reserved to maisiesgrove !!1! please repost/like if you would like to support <33

creds to reve on tumblr for lace header

creds to zuolirio on Pinterest for 2nd header.

Imagining publicly calling out oikawa and iwazumi for their bad behavior and bullying. It would be messy

Yandere Haikyuu x Reader x Yandere Kuroko No Basketball

A/N: Hear me out.. What if reader was the twin sister of Tobio Kageyama? I mean neglected twin sister? If you wanna know, give it a read..

Imagine being the twin sister of a Vollyball prodigy, where your achivements were always overshadowed by his, all the parties were about him, celebrating him and most of all Loving him. Everything was about him, your twin, The perfect child, Kageyama Tobio. And there you were the imperfect one.

Growing up with him was nice, well until elementary, until he made his debute as a vollyball player, everything was perfect, no competition for anything. Everything was divided equally. But after Tobio started playing vollyball and everything became a competition, from love to celebrations.

Even though you both were born on the same day, there was now only one cake, vollyball themed, his favorite flavor, gifts for him. Nothing for you... When it started in 2nd grade, you just believed that your present must have been lost in the mail or the bakery messed up you cake, but as the years passed you realized the pattern. Never once did the bakery mess up Tobio's cake, or never once did his gifts get lost in the mail. As a last ditch effort to gain your grandfather's and older sister's attention, you started playing vollyball. Again at fist you got the attention you craved for, but again you fell behind and your family again started focusing on Tobio, ignoring you again.

The neglect got worse when you entered Junior High, and along with the neglect there was bullying too by an upperclassman who had it out for your twin, Oikawa Tooru. Even after he graduated, the bullying didn't stop, because "since Oikawa-senpai bullied you means you deserved it". It was hell for you, while your brother stayed blissfully unaware.

In the second year, your gandpa had passed so it was just you and your siblings, it didn't affect you as much as you thought it would. But for the other two, it was hard since they were close.

Then came the devestating news, Due to overworking yourself, it caused an injury, an injury that could criple you if you continued to play.

They weren't even at the hospital when you got this news. And this was the last straw for you. You did stop playing, not that you were truly able to enjoy it due to the constant expectation and pressure you faced to keep up with your brother. You may not have had talent for vollyball, but academically? you were on a level of your own. You had many unpublished Novels too but they needed to be edited and you were going to ask someone to read it before you were truly going to publish it.

You took scholarship exams for everywhere except Miyagi for high school, you need to get a fresh start, away from the people you knew. You did get a full academic scholarship to a school that recently opened in Tokyo, Seirin High School. You accepted it.

You decided to become a content creator, specifically a Gamer, to provide for yourself. You made an online friend in this chaos, while getting used to playing the video games, applepi.

He went to Nekoma High School in Tokyo and was happy to know that you would move to Tokyo for your education.

Your steams were doing great and now you had a good amount saved up.

You then decided it was time to tell your siblings or your departure. You called you sister and invited her for dinner. She agreed and talked about not seeing you and your brother in a while. You called Tobio and asked him to end practice early and join dinner that will be held the evening appoaching.

You prepared a variety of dishes, and some drinks too. When they both arrived and began eating, you broke the news.

You looked at them, waiting for a reaction. Your sister was stunned but you didn't expect your brother to stat yelling angrily. He looked like you told him it was you who killed their grandfather or something.

He was yelling things that could only be described as incohearent. After his episode, he started crying alot with fat tears and snot poring down.

It surprised you and you immediately went to comfort him, you were never able to hate him. I mean why would you? He was just doing what he loved, it was the adults fault for your neglect.

He took while to calm down but he kept repeating 'You can't leave me, Please.' You felt guilty but it was your future, and you knew if you stayed in Miyagi you won't be able to get out of the shell. You tried to reason with him but he didn't budge, acting like a toddler who refused to give up his toy.

Your sister intervened, stating that it would be expensive to live in a big city and it will probably be out of our budget since Tobio requires money for his equipment and camp trips that he would take in the future.

You reassured her money won't be a problem, since you got a scholarship, meaning you didn't need to pay a dime. The only catch was that you would need to join an after school club, more specifically a sports club. She asked about the living arrangements since your school does not provide dormetories. You told her that one of your friends had found you a cheap apartment near your school. (The said apartment was owned by Kenma, hence the cheap rent, but you don't need to know that) You also don't need to know that he has camera and bugs set up in that apartment

Tobio and Miwa (you older sister) were about to tell you it was a bad idea and Miwa was about going to refuse paying for it, but before they could say anything, you told them you already had a job and can pay for it yourselves.

They were stunned and Tobio started hugging you even tighter. You reassured him that you would visit and try to be at all his games but he just said,

"It won't be the same without you at school"

To which you do agree since you won't be there to tutor him and give him your notes. Your sister reluctantly agreed, and even if she didn't you were going to leave anyway so it didn't matter much.

You moving day was 1 week away and during that week Tobio refused to leave your side, still trying to get you to stay, even if he didn't say it, his body language gave the message clearly. He stated hiding your things, and when you found the things he looked like a lost puppy.

On the last day, Tobio gave you a gift.. A Bugged Phone. You thanked him but did enquire about how he got the money, he told you he had used his allowance since he never used it. You were happy that finally accepted your decision.(He didn't)

You moved about 2 weeks before school stats to get settled, You move in the apartment that your friend applepi, whose real name was Kozome Kenma was gracious help you find. He was also kind enough to show you around the city and major landmarks you needed to remembered. You soon got to know your neighbour who was also a student at the same high school as you, his name was Kagami Taiga.

He and you became friends quite quickly and he introduced to basketball.

And soon School started.

You joined the basketball club as a manger and found it fun since there was no expectations to out do anyone. You also became close to Taiga and his 'shadow' Kuroko Tetsuya. You still hung out with Kenma and streamed online with him on his or your channel, your identity was hidden and you went by an alias, Etsu. You were only called that online and other than Kenma no one knows about your identity.

You met Kenma's team, who were very shocked at Kenma having a friend other than them, much less a beauty like you.

You also met Tetsuya's former team mates who were called The Generation Of Miracle.

You talked to Tobio every night without fail or else he would bombard your phone and also said he would show up at your house if you didn't pick up his calls.(How though? you didn't tell tell him your address?)

You didn't realize it then but your friends were now acting strange.... They were overprotective and always watching you, and you don't know why?

Also your brother was also acting weirdly clingy...

He did introduce you to his friends when you went to visit him, he acted.. Different.

He also told you about people he would go against. One of them was Oikawa-senpai

He was especially clingy when you both accidently ran into Oikawa and Iwaizumi while returning from the cafe you wanted to try.

Wait now that you mention it, Oikawa-senpai and Iwaizumi-senpai were also acting odd, so friendly, as if they didn't make your life hell in Jr high.

What is up with everyone?

Why are they paying attention to you now?

Your new friend, sure it was fine..

But why you former senpai and his friends?

Its okay.. You can just ignore it since you don't live in Miyagi anymore...

But what's up with Kuroko's friends trying to one up each other in front of you? Maybe it's just how they are?

Maybe they just treat each others friends like this? Buying them gifts, telling them their horoscope and giving you your lucky item, giving them sweets?

Yeah they were probably like that to everyone right?

Right...?

No Ulterior motive...

Its not like you were someone special..

You were just plain Kageyama Y/N..

Everyone is so kind to you now...

I WONDER WHY

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A/N: I'm preparing a part 2 as I post this lol. It was going to be like my Yandere one piece x reader one but I changed it last minute. Anyways the next part will be something special..<3

Masterlist

Stay Safe Healthy and Hydrated. ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Awwwww I love this

Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human

In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around. 

“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”

“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”

“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”

“I..see.”

It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question. 

“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”

“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”

“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”

“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”

It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying. 

“Waaaaa!”

It sounds like a child…which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.

“Waaaa!”

It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon. 

“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”

Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out. 

“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”

The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.

“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”

You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom. 

Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.

“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”

“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”

“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”

“Thanks!” 

“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”

“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”

That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in. 

“More! More!”

“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”

“Whyyyy!?”

“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”

“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”

Creak.

“Titan who is this?”

The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed. 

“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”

“For what?!”

“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”

As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow. 

“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”

“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”

“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”

His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, anytime!”

With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.

“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home. 

“You promise?”

“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”

“Just not now?”

“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”

Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed+ friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent. 

“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”

“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”

“Through your doggy door!”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Now you do!”

Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent. 

“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”

“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”

“So we figured why not now!”

“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”

“I mean I guess-?”

“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”

“Yes’m!” “Yes’m

The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection. 

“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”

“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”

His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”

“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”

“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”

His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”

With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.

“Back off my human!”

After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.

“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”

Part 2: Coming Soon

NINE TO FIVE, FIVE TO NINE Yandere Married Boss x Office Siren Reader

AN: RAHHH. IT'S FINALLY HERE. This took me way longer then it should have but I'm really proud of it. I hope it lives up to the expectations of the 400ish people who liked the original post. This ones filled with shitty people all around. TW: 18+ ONLY, NON-CON, Older Male/Younger Female (mid 30s, mid 20s), Abuse of power (Boss/Employee), Infidelity, Face-Sitting, Cunnilingus, Switch Man, Switch Woman, PIV sex, Manipulation, Roofies, Kidnapping, Mentions of Divorce, Mentions of Pregnancy

Every quarter, your company’s HR department sends out an employee satisfaction survey, and every quarter when you reach the “What is your favorite part of working for our company?” question, your answer is the same.

You love the community. Your colleagues are respectful and hardworking; willing to go the extra mile to ensure deadlines are met. You feel as though your work contributes to something larger and that your efforts don’t go unnoticed by your employers. 

Very cute. Very professional. It would be the perfect answer if it wasn’t all bullshit. 

Your coworkers are fine, but not worth a twenty minute commute and shitty benefits. What actually keeps you slugging into work every morning is far less… admirable. It isn’t something you could write on a company survey without consequences, at least.

Your favorite part of your job is bouncing on your boss's cock.

Yes, you know, “shame on you” — but it’s not like you intended to be an office siren. When you applied for the job all you wanted was to make rent. This was your first “adult” job, so in adult fashion, you tried to keep things professional. 

Emphasis on tried.

It's just... how could you work to your fullest when you were spending all day fantasizing about those toned forearms pinning you down? How were you supposed to answer emails when you were busy wondering if he looked better in or out of his suit? Everyday he sat five feet away from you looking so pent-up and fuckable, could you really be blamed for getting distracted? The hit to your productivity was a detriment to the company. You were just being a responsible employee by fixing the issue.

Yes, he’s ten years your senior. Yes, there’s a blaring ethical issue with a boss fucking his secretary. But he’s a man of childrearing age and you’re a fertile young woman; it’s not your fault you have biological urges.

Besides, it’s not like he’s absolved from blame. You certainly don’t force him to lie down on the couch in his office and pull you onto his face. The desire for you to cum on his nose is entirely his own.

“Fuck, Y/N.” his groan vibrates up into your core, pulling the knot in your stomach tight. One rough hand lies at your waist, following your hips as they roll against his mouth. The other works at his perked up cock, lazily tugging up and down as he devours your cunt. “That’s it baby, ride my fuckin’ nose.”

He’s been at it for nearly half your lunch break now, lapping and sucking at your folds in lieu of his actual meal - not that you’re complaining. How could you, when his tongue is so adamant? It flicks through your folds greedily to earn more of your juice, savoring the salty-sweet taste he’s become so addicted to. Every slurp, lap and suck is catered specifically to your preferences.

You've done well with him. When you first took him under your wing he’d never even eaten pussy before, in fact, he’d only ever slept with two women. Not for lack of desire, he told you, he just never had the time or confidence to flirt in his twenties. Before he knew it, time got away from him and he was past the age where hookups are deemed socially acceptable. 

Your heart broke for him. A man as handsome as him shouldn't be having mediocre sex. So you, being the selfless woman you are, offered to help him make up for lost time. 

It only took one blowjob for him to overlook the ethics of the situation.

With a gentle hand, patience, and lots of encouragement, you’ve turned the businessman into a first rate manslut. He fucks and eats pussy like a veteran now and he’s always eager to get more practice, he drags you onto his face nearly every time he calls you into his office.

He’s come a long, long way, your little pet project.

Inadvertently, you thrust your hips forward, grinding your clit against the bridge of his nose. His tongue burrows itself into your hole, and that’s enough to send you over the edge. Your belly goes taut, your thighs clamp around his ears and you bite your lip to stifle your scream as the contractions roll through your body. Each one sets off fireworks. Fizzing and popping like sparklers in your tummy. Mind-numbing, toe-curling, perfection.

He’s an absolute mess when you climb off of his face. Completely blissed out, face dripping with juices and saliva, glistening in the light pouring through the window. The collar of his pristine white dress shirt is drenched and wrinkled, most likely ruined, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. No, his hungry eyes haven't left that cute little mound between your legs.

“Bend over the desk.” he growls, leaving a smack on your ass as you pull yourself up, and despite the sting you can’t help but smile at his confidence. He’s a far cry from the man he was before you got your hands on him.

You decide to reward him with a little show; swaying your hips teasingly as your stilettos click across the floor, obediently laying yourself over the smooth mahogany, keeping a light arch in your back so he has a nice view of your ass. 

You smile coyly at his reddened face, “You coming, Boss?”

His adam's apple bobs and he makes his way over, eyes dark and dilated, cock leaking beads he positions himself between your legs.

“We only have fifteen minutes before my lunch ends,” you purr, “You think that’s enough time to make us both cum?”

"That’s more than enough~" he growls, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking back so he can purr in your ear, "Do you want my cock in this tight little cunt, Y/N? Do you want me to fill you up?"

You frantically nod, accentuating the act with an exaggerated whimper and needy roll of your hips.

"Beg for it then." he hisses.

If you were in a sadistic mood you might test how long you could make him hold out, but you feel like indulging him today, so you look back at him all teary and doe-eyed. "Please, please, please, Sir. I need your thick cock in my tight little cunt! I can't - Ah! - I can't take it anymore!"

A loud groan tumbles past his lips as he lines himself up, tracing the fat head up and down your slit,  “Slutty thing. That’s alright baby, I’ll give you what you—”

The clink of something falling off his desk interrupts the thought. The object in question rolls a few feet across the wood floor before wobbling in circles and finally lying flat.

His wedding band glitters innocently in the afternoon sun, silently mocking its owner and his mistress.

Ah, the elephant in the room.

Yes, you know he’s married. If the ring wasn’t enough of a tell, the picture of the two of them on his desk is. He's about a decade younger in it, grinning wide as she presses a kiss to his cheek. They took it in France during their honeymoon, he told you. 

You’ve never met his wife, but you can tell from the picture that she’s the quintessential college sweetheart. The type of girl who’s never drank, smoked or had a cavity. The kind of girl you propose too at the park and settle down with in a white picket fence suburban neighborhood. The kind of girl who says “Not tonight, honey.” when you ask to have sex at the end of a stressful day.

In layman's terms, she's boring.

And clearly, she isn’t taking care of him correctly. He was so obviously pent up when you started flirting with him, just a glimpse of your cleavage was all it took to get him rock hard.

Of course it’s morally reprehensible, but you could argue that making him work his dull 9-5 everyday for nothing in return is wrong too. Somebody had to help the guy out. If she wasn’t going to do her job then you’d have to do it for her.

The guilt nearly killed him at first. The day after the first blowjob he dragged you into his office and furiously—or maybe desperately—started pacing up and down the room. Giving you the “We can’t do this. For Christ’s sake Y/N, I’m married.” speech, whether he was lecturing you or himself, you aren’t entirely sure.

Still, you listened patiently as he rambled, and eventually you decided it was best to back off. It was a disappointment for sure but you'd get over it. You were too hot to be meddling in people's marriages anyway. 

At least directly meddling.

You didn’t make any more blatant advances, but you did start wearing dresses and skirts that fell a tad too short to be considered work appropriate. The necklines of your tops started plunging too, showing off as much cleavage as you could without HR getting up your ass. And you suddenly became very clumsy. “Accidentally” dropping things whenever he was around, or leaning over his desk just enough to give him a nice look down your shirt. 

Not even a week later he pulled you into his office, all but begging on his knees for you to fuck him. That was your green card. You aren’t to blame if he’s the one who instigated. So you rode him like a mechanical bull, chest filled with pride as you looked at that stupid picture of him and his wife.

You always get what you want in the end.

Dispite your victory however, his wife remains a thorn in your side. Your boss has gone completely soft staring at that dumb ring, thinking of his dumb wife who probably couldn’t suck a dick to save her life. No wonder he’s cheating, the bitch pisses you off and you’ve never even met her.

Holding back an exasperated sigh, you give his tie a gentle tug. You soften your face as he turns back, gently--teasingly tracing your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin to gently tilt it up. And though he obeys the silent command, the shame swimming in his eyes makes your smile waver.

It irks you, for some reason, how upset he is by this. Maybe that’s selfish. Maybe you should have more sympathy, but you can’t push past the desire to keep him for yourself. You may have won, but did you really if his heart is still hers? 

That’s something to address another time. Getting him hard again takes precedence right now, you’re not going to let that bitch get between you and his dick.

You pull yourself off of his desk, grabbing his hand gently. He follows you to the couch—far more hesitantly then you’d like—but he doesn’t complain when you lie him down and climb on top. He never complains when you climb on top. You leave a sweet kiss between his eyebrows and the cute, attention-starved thing burns bright red. Adorable.

“You’re alright.” You caress his stubbled cheek, slowly coaxing him with honey-sweet kisses, like a siren luring a sailor to his doom. “It’s not your fault you have urges, remember? You’re a grown man, it’s not healthy for you to be so pent-up.” 

His throat clicks with a heavy swallow when your hand moves down, gently wrapping around his soft penis, stroking it lightly, teasingly, all while flashing your big, lust-blown eyes and quivering lip. The rod in your hand fills out shamelessly, and like a bad habit, his eyes flick back down to your pretty cunt. You can tell he’s itching to touch, his morality holding on by a thread, but he’ll always fold to you in the end. You, and your torturous little pocket of bliss.

“That’s it baby.” you purr, picking up his trembling hand and placing it over your clit, “Little circles, just like I taught you.” As soon as his hand starts moving he’s putty in your hands again; any remaining penitence completely snuffed out. He’s hypnotized. Pussy-whipped. Rubbing your little pearl with rough pads, working it like a joystick and groaning licentiously as you trace the head of his cock up and down your folds. You line yourself up, leaning forward so you’re hovering just a few centimeters away from his face, close enough to feel his hot breath on your lips.

“We both know she can’t give you what you need. But I can. I’ll make you feel so good~” you purr, letting one hand find it's way up his shirt to trace over his trembling torso. Little bumps erupt all over his skin when the tip of his cock catches in your little divot. You can't help your lips from curling up.

You lower yourself so your hole swallows just the tip, and his breath hitches beneath you. You clench in response, just a little squeeze to remind him who makes him feel good, who his cock really belongs too, and if the bubbling moan that passes his lips is anything to go by, he got the memo.

You ghost your lips over his neck, nibbling lightly at his sensitive pulse point, teasingly tracing a little heart over his pecs, “Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?” 

He all but whimpers as you drop yourself down, white-knuckling the sofa, so overwhelmed you swear his eyes start tearing, and when you finally reach the base he groans like he’s seen heaven. You don’t think about his wife, or his ring, or morality while you bounce on his cock. Not a flicker of guilt passes through your mind when he bucks and fills you with his cum. Why should it? Your job is to ensure your boss's needs are met while he's in the office, and you’re doing just that. His life after five pm is none of your concern, really.

—

About two months later you find an unassuming sticky note on your desk, scrawled over in his chicken-scratch handwriting.

Come to my office at 5, we need to talk.

It strikes you as odd. Normally he’d just come talk to you about any arrangements, lay a gentle hand on your shoulder and bend down to whisper something filthy in your ear, but your boss is nowhere in sight. Not on the office floor checking up on his employees, not in the break room making idle chatter while he refills his coffee, your boss stays holed up in his office all day, and when you walk in to give him his schedule for the upcoming week he only grunts in acknowledgement, never looking up from his computer.

Something is clearly wrong. Normally, he can’t keep his hands off of you—you never leave his office without a slap on the ass and a promise to make you regret wearing whatever curve hugging skirt you put on that day—but he seems to want nothing to do with you, or rather, he seems to be avoiding the fact that he does. The blatant disregard pisses you off, frankly. You put effort into your makeup today.

But more than that, his sudden indifference is unsettling. You can’t put your finger on why; he’s never given you reason to believe that he’s resentful, and despite his dour, professional persona he’s about as intimidating as a newborn kitten. Still, the tension in his office is thick. Thicker than you realize. When you step out you're surprised to find your lungs are aching from holding the breath you walked in with.

You spend the better part of your day trying to convince yourself that you’re just feeling ill. You aren’t nervous. There’s no reason to be. The gut feeling telling you to walk out at five today is just the byproduct of spoiled eggs at breakfast. You’re in control. You always are.

Still, when five o’clock comes your heart is pounding. Alarm bells clang in your head, screaming that something bad is going to happen if you walk through that door. Briefly, an interview from a true crime documentary you once watched plays through your head—the victim was lamenting how she regretted not listening to that “gut feeling” before she got kidnapped—but that’s ridiculous. You know your boss and you’re certain he’s not a kidnapper. The notion itself is ridiculous. You’ll be fine. You’ve been fucking him for three months, him acting weird doesn’t mean today will be any different.

After a few deep breaths you open the door and as promised, he's waiting for you, but not how you expected him to be. Normally, he’d be rolling his hips into his fist by now, impatiently demanding you get on your knees in front of him, but today he’s fully clothed, penis nowhere in sight. Instead, his hands cup a white mug of steaming liquid—an identical one that you presume to be yours sits on the opposite side of his desk—and he seems… tired. Pale and weighted; certainly not aroused in any way.

“You can sit, you know. I’m not angry at you.” he calls vacantly from across the room, not looking up from his cup.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, realizing you’ve been staring. With a thick swallow, you make your way over to him, mustering up as pleasant a smile as you can. When you finally sit and get a good look at him, however, the grin drops. 

He looks… awful. Weary and bleak, with red, puffy circles around his eyes like he’s recently been crying, his hair is mussed and a five o’clock shadow is growing on his chin. It’s jarring, to say the least. He’s normally so put together, you can’t remember if you've ever seen him disheveled. He’s a hard man to shake typically, his job demands it, but he looks utterly distraught. For a brief moment, you feel kind of bad.

Gross.

A halfhearted chuckle leaves his mouth, “I’m sorry. I must look pretty pathetic, huh?” 

Immediately you straighten, rectifying your smile. You can’t show cracks. There are no cracks, “Not at all Sir. What can I help you with?” 

A meaty hand waves you off. “Don’t bother with professionalism, Y/N. We both know we aren’t here to talk about work.” he runs a hand through his already mussed up hair and shuts his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a long breath, thinking deeply or maybe steeling himself, before slowly exhaling, pushing the second mug towards you “Here, take a drink. This might be a lot.”

“Oh no, I’m not thirsty–”

“Drink.” he interrupts, and you’re startled by how sharp the command is. It’s far cry from the playful orders you’re used to receiving when he growls at you to get on your knees or bend over his desk. Instinctively, you find yourself rushing to obey.

When you bring the mug to your lips, his face relaxes. The alarm balls start jingling in the back of your head again.

“I’m going to be blunt about this,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “My wife found out about the affair and she wants a divorce.”

Oh. That is a lot.

It takes you a few seconds to process what he’s saying, a few more for it to sink in, but when you’ve finally got a stable grasp on the information, the faucet of emotion is turned on. It doesn’t twist off until your body is on the verge of overflowing.

But not for the right reasons.

Your heart should be sinking, guilt twisting in your gut like a knife. You should be on your knees, groveling in shame; apologizing with your whole chest for ruining this poor man's marriage—but you aren’t. Not a flicker of remorse fills your body.

You feel positively giddy.

Elated. Euphoric. You are on cloud fucking nine. Months, you’ve been waiting for this day; when you could finally take your medal and put it around your neck. It’s not really a matter of him being yours, moreso confirming that you’re hot enough to break up marriages. Fuck the morality of it all. You did it. She’s gone. You won. 

You aren’t tactless enough to start jumping for joy, however. You do your best to put on a genuine-seeming soberness and reply, “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, eyes down-turned, “I’m equally if not more to blame. What’s done is done.” 

He stands then, aimlessly walking to the window. It’s all rather dramatic, you feel, but you're not the one who’s marriage just got destroyed. Quietly he looks across the skyline, face clouding with regret as he speaks, “You should have seen her, Y/N.” You wish you had, “I-I could see her heart breaking in her chest when I admitted to it.”

Oh, the delight that runs through you when you hear that crack in his voice—it makes you dizzy.

“I managed to find an apartment somehow between then and now. I’m in the process of moving in. I thought it was only right to give her space. God, the poor girl…” His cheeks are wet when he turns back to you and another jolt of glee zips through your body. But this one is stronger than the first one. It makes you wobble a little in your chair; you have to clutch the armrests to keep yourself upright.

The bells have started clanging again—painfully loud—and your heart beats in time with each stroke.

“Seven years. We’d been together seven years.” he laments, walking back to you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Despite the touch's innocence it’s searing hot, burning into your skin like an iron, only serving to make the bells louder. You try to jerk away but your body goes slack and when you try to pick yourself back up again, you can’t; no matter how hard you strain and lift, your muscles won’t move.

Your heart is pounding in your head now. His large hands hook under your armpits, hoisting your limp body back up onto the chair like a ragdoll. 

A sick, crawling feeling of dread fills your chest, like when you get to the very top of a rollercoaster. It creeps up your spine and wraps around your chest, squeezing the air out of your lungs. His face… he looks like a madman. Pale and wild; eyes manic and pupils dilated. He swallows heavily, breath shallow and frenzied as he desperately rasps, “I don’t think I could live without a wife again.”

The bells are deafening now and any ounce of joy you might have felt earlier has been drained to oblivion. You aren’t fine anymore. You need to run. You need to scream. Anything.

But you made the realization all too late. Your vision is going spotty and he’s already hoisted you up in his arms. Despite every muscle in your body fighting with all its might, you can’t make yourself move.

For the first time in your life, you’re completely powerless. 

The last thing you remember before being swallowed by the dark is his hot breath puffing against your ear:

“You promised you’d take care of me, didn’t you?” 

—

You wake up to the feeling of something warm and wet on your clit.

In your groggy, half-conscious state you don’t have the capacity or desire to figure out what it is, all that matters is that it feels good. It flicks lazy little shapes over the twitching bud, enveloping it and your folds in a warm, welcoming heat, and for a moment, you think you could die happy just like this. Your hips instinctively buck up towards the source and a low, wonton moan passes your lips. 

“Mmm, thats it darling. Good girl~”

Your eyes fly open.

Every ounce of blood drains from your face when you see his head bowed between your legs, cheeks messy and shiny with your slick, hips rutting needily against the mattress. Your kidnapper.

Your first instinct is to fight, but your limbs still won’t obey you—even if they would, a shift of weight reveals that your hands are bound tightly to the headboard of the bed.

The bed. There’s no bed in his office. Where the hell are you?

It’s all you can do to let out a low, displeased whine. Weakly shimmying your hips away from him only to have them immediately yanked back. He peaks up from your legs, “Shh honey, calm down.” he purrs, not breaking eye contact as he gives your clit a sweet peck, “Just relax and let your husband make you feel good.”

Husband.

Husband.

Your heart picks up in your chest, galloping like a racehorse as you try to process his words. “W-what?” you choke, even drugged your voice is sharp with terror.

He noses gently over your inner thigh, carefully pressing a chaste kiss to the soft plush before addressing you, “Your husband, dear. And you’re my wife~” he hums pleasantly, licking a long lazy stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, “I’m sure you can feel the ring, right?”

Your heart drops as you wiggle your fingers. On your left hand, a cold band of metal topped with some kind of stone wraps around your ring finger. A bout of vertigo flashes through your body. He must notice the horror on your face because he chuckles.

“It was kind of short notice so I had to use hers, but I’ll buy you a new one if you want…” he trails absentmindedly, too focused on laving at your cunt to give the thought his full attention. 

He’s doing it just like you taught him too. The irony could make you cry.

A knot the size of the watermelon grows in your stomach. Whether it’s from the panic or your equally distressing impending orgasm you’re not sure. Regardless, it’s there, and your head is spinning, and he’s starting to climb on top of you and take off his—oh god.

You cry and struggle as much as your leaden body will allow but he easily counters it all with one steady hand on your belly, the thumb of which he moves down to nurse your spit-soaked clit with easy circles. “I know it’s sudden,” he coos, paying no mind to your cries and pleas for mercy as he pulls out his rock hard cock, “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You’re the one who chased after me so desperately after all. I know you were just jealous of her.” 

Loud, wet sobs curl up your throat as he rubs his cock up and down your dripping folds, hypnotized by the lewd, clicking sound your juices make. “P-please.” you beg, trying your best to buck him off of you, “M’ sorry! I-I didn’t mean to—Please let me go.” 

A displeased hum then, “It’s too late for that, honey, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of you.” his frown flips to a soft smile. “You’ll take good care of me too, won't you? just like you promised.”

You feel like you might faint. The blunt head is pushing against your entrance now, threatening to sink into your heat, and though you’ve taken his cock hundreds of times, you’d rather stick your hand into an open flame then take it again. “P-please.” you blubber, “I’ll do anything, just please—Ah! S-stop!”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, only continues his rambling. “You’ll take good care of our children too, I'm sure.” those deranged, lovesick eyes bore into your skull, “Oh, baby. You’re going to look so beautiful when you’re pregnant, I can already tell. So, so pretty, all swollen and glowing~” he groans.

Your eyes blow wide and you start screaming. Half of it is incoherent, but what else are you supposed to do when you can’t fight? You nearly choke on your own sob as he leans over your body, starting to push in with a low, heady groan. “You can’t!” you cry, near hysterics, “Please, you can’t! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything! I’ll-”

“Shhhh,” he cuts you off, clamping a rough hand over your mouth, then bottoms out inside of you with one languid push. You feel like you’re on fire, like a million ants are crawling up your skin and down your throat.

Beads of cold sweat trickle down your back as he rocks into you. Behind his mitt you plead for him to let you go, but he doesn’t notice, or more likely, he doesn’t care. “I think I want three." he muses, "Two girls and a boy. But we can have more if you’d like. What do you think, darling?”

He removes his hand then, you greedily suck in air. It proves to be a difficult task, however, with his dick poking it all back out again with each snap of his hips. Finally, you collect yourself enough to make one final attempt. You stare up into his eyes, hoping to somehow access whatever humanity might remain there. “Please. I don’t want kids. I want to go home.”

He pauses, ceases his thrusting, and stares back down at you. For just a moment, your chest swells with hope.

But then he laughs. A sick, evil chuckle that rings through your bones, punctures your lungs and splits your heart straight down the middle.

“Oh honey, you are home.” he croons, a snap of his hips punctuates the sentence. “And of course you want kids. All husbands and wives who love each other very much become Mommies and Daddies. Besides—”

His hips start driving into you with a brutal sort of ferocity, and he grins so wickedly you swear you can see the devil in his eyes.

“--Won’t it be cute to tell them how Daddy and Mommy fell in love at work?”

higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, satoru gojo, izuku midoriya, kirishima eijiro, kaminari denki, kotaro bokuto, tooru oikawa, kuroo tetsuro, erwin smith, armin arlert

Trial By Combat

Requested By: No one. Original Work.

CW: Mentions of dying, Impostor SAGAU

Summary: After being declared an imposter, you decide to duel to defend your honor rather than stand trial.

Note: Fontaine is amazing. I’m loving every bit of it rn especially Neuvillette, Navia, and Chlorinde.

If you haven’t finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part Two Part Three

-

You never even made it to the Court Of Fontaine before you were confronted by Focalors, the Hydro Archon, of being an imposter of the Creator of Teyvat. In her own eccentric way, she throws accusations at you. ‘To take the face of the Creator is not only a crime in Fontaine but in all of Teyvat!’

You deny her claims but she only laughs, ‘you’re acting ignorant, as if you do not know who the Creator is. Do you have any evidence to prove your innocence?’

You look down, there was no evidence you had that would prove to her and everyone else that this was the face you were born with, or that you never heard of this Creator before.

“The trial of the Century” is what the Steambird called it.

The Opera House was as full as ever, many people wanting to see the verdict the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale would give or wanting to see the one who dared to imitate Their Grace.

Maybe it was out of spite or your own foolishness, but you never allowed the trial to fully begin. Turning to Neuvillette, you declare that you want to duel rather than stand trial.

Despite the protests of Focalors, who wanted to prosecute you, the wish is granted.

The weight of the sword felt unbearable in your clammy hands as you stared at your opponent. Champion Duelist Clorinde stares back nonchalantly, her face not giving any clues on how she felt in this moment. However you heard rumors that she personally requested to duel you.

You readjusted your grip on the hilt as you fix your stance.

Was this truly the correct course of action? To fight and prove your innocence when you know that there’s no way you can win?

No it didn’t matter, you can’t back out now.

The crowd watches eagerly waiting for the duel to begin, how could the people of Fontaine do this? You were a real person and they acted as if you were a character on stage and the play was about to reach it’s final act. The excited looks on their face made your blood boil. If you somehow manage to make it out of this, you would make them pay.

You take one final glance at Furina before the duel commences.

Clorinde wastes no time to strike, using her electro vision, she effortlessly knocks your sword out of your hand and drags her blade down your torso.

Whether her fatal blow was an act of mercy or a warning for anyone else who dared to take the Creators face, the duel was over as soon as it started.

But…

No this couldn’t be right…

Clorinde looks down at her weapon, the golden ichor that dripped onto the floor caused her eyes to widen as she looks at your limp body by her feet.

She immediately drops her weapon as she kneel not caring as the blood began to stain her clothing. Her hands press against your chest to slow the bleeding as she calls out to the crowd.

“We need a doctor!”

A medical team rushes down to your side making haste to attend to your wounds, your vision begins to blur as the mortified looks of Fontaine citizens watch in despair hoping that your life could be saved.

Furina, who sat at the top like always, quickly backs away before anyone could question her. How could she face her people when she was the one who laid these accusations at your feet? How could she face you?

She prays, hoping that an act of mercy could be given to her and her people, how could she call herself an Archon now?

The original publication by the Steambird was quickly scrapped and replaced with “The Creator of Teyvat Falsely Accused of being an Imposter.”

And it didn’t take long for the devastating news to reach the other nations too.

Sorry I had to write a little something for SAGAU Fontaine but now I will return to the requests everyone sent 🏃🏽‍♀️

© avocad1s 2023

Platonic Daddy! Yandere! Wilson Fisk x Little! Willing! Reader x Reluctant! Platonic Mommy! Vanessa Fisk

This was messily written. I wrote as it came to me. I will edit this.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Gun Violence, Violence, Human Trafficking, Yandere Behavior, Forced Relationships, Forced Breastfeeding.

KingPin (DareDevil series/comics) inspired.

Summary: You started working in a shady restaurant and met a scary regular. Somehow you ended up kidnapped and with a new set of "parents"

You were just a waiter at a restaurant, nobody really. All you did was wait tables all day at some restaurant that never had a full house since you've worked there. One man was a regular, he would come in four times a week for dinner. He wasn't the only regular, but he was the most memorable regular. With his enormous height, heavyset body, complete bald head, stark white suit, and bright blue eyes, he was utterly noticeable.

The only other waiter, the first time he came, was intimidated by his physique so you had to be the one to take his order. The man looked so tired, as if he just woken up, and it compelled you to give him a cup of coffee on the house. He ordered two different plates and a fountain drink, of which he had three refills. You waited on him like any other person, cracked a few jokes, and wished him a good day. Before he left, his plates and cup empty, he personally gave you a tip and thanked you for the coffee. The tip was a fifty dollar bill.

It wasn't completely unknown to you that more unsavory people would come into the restaurant. Ranging from small-time thugs to ring leaders of criminal organizations. It was a blessing and a curse for the restaurant and its employees. Everyone actually paid for their meals, some would leave big tips like the man, and it kept the business going. There would be times someone would get too much and create a ruckus, once there was a shoot out once, which you thankfully didn't witness. Because of the danger you were able to easily get a job, a job you desperately needed.

Ever since you graduated, you haven't been able to land a job due to inexperience. As the years went by you were desperate to find a way to no longer be a burden on your family. So you decided to walk around the more dangerous parts of the city and found a help wanted sign in the window. Your coworkers were great, the chefs were friendly enough, and your boss, the owner, gave you a decent wage. It was truly a blessing even if the environment was dangerous.

It had been six months of working, two months of knowing your memorable regular ("Call me Wilson."), when you witnessed your first shooting. A customer was complaining about their food, a street thug, and gave your coworker a hard time. Your regular, the large man, was just about to tell you his order when a shot rang out. The thug had just shot your coworker, your friend, and your fight or flight response came in. You were in fight mode.

Grabbing the first empty chair in arms reach, you slammed the chair on the back of the fleeing thug's head. They went down hard, dropping their gun, and cursing you. Their two friends got out their own guns and pointed at you, before they could shoot, a large shadow towered over you.

"Now, that's no way to treat a lovely lady." Wilson, your regular, said in a gravelly voice. The others paled and lowered their guns.

"Lovely lady my ass, she busted my skull open." The thug on the ground shouted, still turning around holding his head. "I'm gonna fucking kill the bitch." As he turned around and saw Wilson, he also paled. "Mr. Fisk, sir, I didn't see you there." He stammered.

Your friend groaned, holding their side, you dropped the chair and went to their side. It looked like they were shot in the leg, you took off your apron and put pressure on the wound.

"Look, I didn't know you came to this joint." The thug continued to stammer. Ambulance and police sirens could be heard outside. "Listen, I'll never come back to this place, I promise."

"That's a promise you can keep behind bars." You heard the guy scramble, a loud wet crunch, and a scream. You looked up to see Wilson stepping the thug's hand, that was reaching for his gun. His friends ran out in a panic, the police came in to take the thug and question everyone. Your friend was taken to the hospital.

When your family heard what happened, they begged you to quit, find another job. You compromised with them, sending your resume to different job openings, only quitting when somewhere else hires you. Wilson still stayed a regular, still giving you large tips, and your coworker came back a month later. Everything went back to normal, but you never received a call back from the places you applied.

When it was your anniversary of working at the restaurant, your coworkers set up a small party after closing. It was dark when everyone started to go home. As you approached your car someone behind you covered your face with a cloth and your world went dark.

Voices shouted around you as you woke up.

"I'm just saying this is a bad idea."

"Please, that Chinese bitch asked for girls, she didn't say from where."

"But, the Kingpin's rules."

"I don't give a shit about his rules. He broke my fucking hand and almost sent me to prison. All over some fat bitch in a shitty joint."

You noticed you were tied up and your mouth was taped shut. You were in the back of a van with two other girls in the same position. One girl started to panic and screamed behind her closed mouth.

"Shut them the fuck up." You look up and notice the thug that shot your coworker and his friends.

The one sitting in the back took out a needle syringe and injected the screaming girl with it. After a while the girl went limp.

"Shot them all up, we're almost there and I don't want any of them struggling." After a sharp pinch the world was no more.

The next time you woke up, you were naked and in a room with other girls. They were either naked like you, or wore plain lingerie that barely covered anything. After a while someone threw a bag filled with plain lingerie, and you noticed you, and other bigger girls, were the only one left without clothes. Later water bottles were thrown in, only enough for half of the girls. Some girls were selfish and hogged a whole bottle, others shared. What felt like a whole day, a few buffer men came in and took a few girls by force. The next day more men came in to take more girls. It kept repeating, after the fifth time you and the other bigger girls got lingerie. More girls were brought in.

After what felt like two weeks, you were nibbling on some stale bread when they took all the bigger girls. You were terrified, wondering what will happen to you. You and girls were lined up in front of a group of people, a girl squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. When you looked around, you were surprised to see Wilson in the group. He also seemed surprised when his eyes landed on you.

"As you can see Mr. Fisk, we in fact respect your wishes." An Asian man in front of an elderly woman said. She was sitting in a chair and said something in her native tongue. "I always make sure to leave your territory alone, never picking from your fields."

"Is that so?" Wilson said. He stepped forward and took out his hand. "Come here, y/n." He called out. You clutched onto the other girl. "It's all right, sweetheart, I'm here to take you home."

The old woman shouted. "I'm sorry, but I think you're mistaking the merchandise for someone else." The man then tried soothing the old woman in their native tongue.

You felt your eyes water at being called merchandise, you were a human, not a thing. Wilson called out your name again. You let go of the girl. He said he would take you home and you wanted to go home.

When you reached him, you threw your arms around his middle and cried into his chest. He patted your head and rubbed your back. "It's alright, it's alright. Now tell me, who brought you here?"

"The guy that shot my friend and his friends." You said between sobs.

"My poor little sunshine, you must have been so scared." He kissed the top of your hair. "Don't worry, everything will be alright now." He used his strength to leave you in his arms. You buried your face in his shoulder, clutching the front of his suit. "You broke our deal."

The woman shouted. "We had no idea she was one of yours. Whoever brought her to us is at fault." The man translated.

"Whoever brought her here was under your orders. " He started to walk away. "I expect compensation for the kidnapping of my daughter." There was a sharp inhale. Daughter, why did he call you his daughter?

He brought you to his limo and settled you in his lap, covering you with his jacket. "It's alright, princess. Once we get home you'll have a nice bath, a warm meal, and I'll tuck you in bed. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Your body felt numb, but nodded. Finally getting clean, real food, and a bed sounded like a dream. You pressed close to him to get warm.

When he carried you out of the limo, you didn't recognize your surroundings. He took you to what looked like a luxury apartment complex. Taking the elevator, he pressed the top floor button. It looked like his private condo took up the whole floor.

He finally sat you down in a chair in the bathroom. He filled the overly large tub with warm water and bubbles. When the tub was full you expected him to leave, but instead he started to take off the lingerie you wore. You shrieked and scooted away from him.

"It's alright, sweetie. I know you're scared, but you should let daddy take care of you." He said.

"I can wash myself." You stammered back.

"I know you're my big girl, but daddy hasn't seen you in days." He grabbed your arm, preventing you from moving away. Taking off the last bit of article that covered you, he picked you up and placed you in the tub. Grabbing a washcloth he started to scrub your body. You jumped at that.

"Please, I can wash myself." You cried.

"No, no," he shook his head, "I said I was going to take care of you. Daddy will make everything better and you'll get to see your friends tomorrow. Doesn't that sound fun?"

It scared you, having a large man handle you. You had no idea why he kept calling himself "daddy", or why he was insistent on treating you like a child. He was just a regular at the restaurant you work at. You decided to comply. If a man could easily carry someone like you around, who knows what else he could do.

When he finished giving you a bath he picked you up from the tub, wrapped in a large towel, and carried you to a bedroom. He placed you on a bed and dressed you in childish looking underwear and soft pajamas with your favorite childhood characters. Not only was it embarrassing, but it had you questioning why the man had such clothing in your exact size. He picked you back up and sat you at a dining table.

"You sit there while daddy gets you your favorite soup." When he left for the kitchen, you debated on whether or not to try to leave. You decided against it, you had no clue where you were and he did say you were going to see your friends tomorrow. Maybe he wasn't that bad of a man, maybe this was his strange way comforting you.

As promised, he came back with a bowl of your favorite soup and a juice box. Before you could grab the spoon yourself, he lifted the spoon to your face. "Open wide." He looked at you expectantly.

"I can feed myself." You stuttered, feeling your cheeks blush. You looked at the ground embarrassed at the situation even more.

He placed a hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Looking up, you felt smaller than you ever had, especially with his large stature. "Just let daddy spoil you, ok?" Once again, you wordlessly nodded, afraid of what might happen if you said no.

He fed you like a baby, wiping your face after each spoonful, and occasionally held up the juice box for you to drink from. When the bowl was completely empty, he picked you up again. "It's time for bed."

He took you to the same bedroom as before. You finally looked around and saw what looked like a child's bedroom. Your favorite color painted the walls, shelves filled with children's books, a desk covered in coloring books and crayons, a toy box, childish furniture, and a bed with sheets covered in your favorite childhood characters. It made you bewildered why the man had such a room in the first place.

As he tucked you in bed, he gave your forehead a kiss. "Sleep tight my little princess. Daddy has to take care of business, but if you need anything the nanny will be just outside, ok?"

"Ok." You said automatically.Nanny? So he's keeping a guard on you? There goes your ability to escape and go back home to your family.

Finally laying on a soft bed after days of barely sleeping on the floor, you eventually feel asleep. By morning Wilson was waking you up. He took you to the bathroom to do your business, without leaving, and gave you a brightly colored toothbrush. Today's saving grace was that he allowed you to walk, but held onto your hand. He still changed your clothes, putting on something that you would normally wear. You ate breakfast without help and he took you to work via a chauffeur.

Before you could jump out of the car, Wilson asked for a kiss. So close to freedom, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. He finally let you go after he gave his own kiss and wished you a good day.

When you walked into the restaurant, you were ambushed by your coworkers once they saw you. Apparently Wilson told them he would bring you back, but they didn't believe it. The owner asked if you actually wanted to work today. You told them that you wanted to go home, since you hadn't seen your family yet. They took you home.

Your family was overwhelmed when they saw you, you all cried. They called the police to inform them you returned and they came to question you. You gave them the descriptions of the three men that took you and two people that were behind it. You didn't mention Wilson picking you up, only saying you managed to escape and run into someone who helped you.

After winding down, you had a celebratory lunch with your family for your safe return. No one went to work that day and held onto you tight. When it was a little past your working shift, a knock came from the door. When a knock came from the door, you were surprised to see Wilson at the door when a family member opened it. When he asked for you, your family was suspicious of him. You blurted out that he was the one that helped you, that made the family welcome him in open arms. They insisted he stay for dinner, to show their appreciation.

The women, and few of the men, were in the kitchen preparing traditional dishes for an army. Wilson sat with you on the couch, your family treated him like he was a part of the family. When he placed an arm over your shoulder, some of your family members gave a teasing glance. They were the ones insistenting you should have been married already. If only they knew he didn't see you as a lover, but as a daughter.

You couldn't help but cuddle into his side, enjoying the feeling of being small. You haven't felt small in years, you usually were the biggest person in the room. When dinner was ready, you began insisting that your favorite food was the best. You plated most of the food for Wilson, almost forgetting his strange nature from yesterday. When the day winded down, only your closest family members stayed over. Wilson left as well, you gave him a hug goodbye.

It took two days for you to return to work, you were grateful that you even still had a job. Wilson came in that day for lunch. When no one was looking, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. He seemed surprised by that. When he finished, he gave you your usual tip and a note that asked you to come home with him during the weekend.

You felt nervous and questioned your sanity for actually going to his place. He babies you the whole weekend, treating you like a toddler. You enjoyed cuddling with him on the couch while watching children's movies and shows, when he fed you, when he changed you, when he carried you around, and when he would call you nicknames. Your "nanny" was someone called Hildy, a no nonsense woman that treated you like a child without asking questions. It made you feel carefree, like you had nothing to worry about for about two and a half days.

It was a routine for about a year, your family thought you were dating, your coworkers never questioned Wilson's behavior towards you. You never once imagined that you would be in the situation you found yourself in. One morning, when Wilson left for "business," you groggily got out of bed to ask Hildy for a glass of water. A woman was in the living room with her, demanding where Wilson was. When she looked at you, with your bed hair, she assumed you were sleeping with him. You made a face at that. "Gross, he's my daddy." You told her. Later you were properly introduced to Vanessa.

Vanessa did not accept the type of relationship you had with her boyfriend. Well, not at first. After your third week, she saw everything that Wilson did with you. She was still hesitant, but you guess Wilson told her something because she started to join him for lunch at your workplace. You treated them like normal customers and she seemed nervous the whole time. The next weekend, Wilson had her feed you and read you a bedtime story. The next week he had her change your clothes and cuddle you while watching tv. Then it escalated to her bathing you. She tried to touch you in a sexual manner while bathing you, you screeched and cried like a child. Wilson was angry at her and kicked her out. You didn't see her for two weeks.

The next time you saw her, she apologized and promised to never do that again, you were weary of her. You clung to Wilson whenever she was around, hiding behind him, hiding behind daddy. He kept you safe. But he wanted Vanessa to be your mommy. When it seemed like you weren't getting used to her, something happened.

When you entered the condo after being picked up from work, you noticed Vanessa waiting on the couch. She was wearing a loose button up, and gestured you to her lap. Daddy didn't let you hide behind him, he picked you up and sat you on her lap. You started to cry, wondering what was happening. "She's just being fussy, aren't you princess?" Daddy cooed. "Our poor baby must be hungry. Don't you think so, honey?"

"Yes." Vanessa stammered.

"Well, aren't you going to feed her?" Vanessa started to clumsy unbutton her shirt. You wanted to panic, to pull away from her, but daddy kept you in place. Vanessa exposed one of her breasts.

"Here, eat." She tried to push her breast into your force. Daddy stopped her and scowled.

"Don't force it, let her latch naturally." He patted your head and adjusted you so your head was next to her breast. "Come on sweetheart, aren't you hungry?" He encouraged. "Has daddy ever let you astray?" No, daddy has never let anything, or anyone, hurt you.

Shyly, you latched onto her nipple, she gasped and daddy praised you. As you sucked, you tasted something sweet and warm. You sucked harder and more of the sweet nectar came rushing into your mouth. Vanessa was lactating! "That's a good girl, eating without a fuss." Daddy praised. "And mommy is being so good at feeding our precious baby."

You could hear Vanessa cry, but you didn't let it bother you. You were hungry and she was feeding you yummy milk. When her breast was empty, you whined for more. Daddy took out her other breast since Vanessa was still crying. You drank until you sucked her dry. Happily humming with a full stomach, you nuzzled into your new mommy. She gave you nice warm milk and daddy said she was mommy. Your weekends now included drinking milk from mommy, who cried from happiness at being able to feed her baby.

“Narcissus does not fall in love with his reflection because it is beautiful, but because it is his.”

Releasing The Noctwind Brothers

Yandere Twin Vampire Brothers x Gender Neutral Human Turned Vampire Reader CW: Incest between the vampire brothers, mildly dubious consent, intoxication, reader initiated sex, threesome, spit as lube, cum as lube, biting, blood sucking, forced to drink blood, forced to turn into a vampire, bullying, bully gets killed, beating, reader has temporarily broken bones, temporary injury, overprotective yanderes, general yandere behavior, twin yanderes, surprisingly whole ending, surprisingly happy ending Word Count: 3.3k (I know this kind of fic isn't for everyone between the violence the bully receives and the incest, but I hope a lot of people like it anyway. I worked very hard. Also yes, this is a repost because the original had an accidentally gendered pronoun. I apologize if anyone read that and experienced dysphoria.)

You had made a mistake. One that would, soon enough, prove to be a fatal one. Not just for you.

In your haste to start a task you had as one of the town’s carpenters you had turned a corner and ran right into the town brute himself, Jorry. Running into him, at any time, could result in a punch from his large meaty fists, but he had been carrying eggs freshly laid from his hens. This resulted in egg yolk covering an outraged Jorry.

Jorry had bullied you for as long as you could remember, he and his friends pummeling you whenever you happened upon them while he was in a bad mood. Or in any mood really. He just really liked using you as a punching bag. Most people left such behavior in childhood, but not Jorry.

You wasted no time at all in fleeing upon seeing who you had ran into. You weren’t quite in the mood to be nursing a broken nose that day. Luckily he had to wipe egg goop out of his eyes and that gave you some crucial extra seconds to make yourself scarce.

Despite making it a good way out of your village, the angered Jorry pursued you. He was nothing if not persistent. You hesitated a bit, but decided your only hope was to flee into the cave that everyone in all the nearby villages were terrified of. No one could remember the truth of the matter, but it had long been forbidden to enter. Many superstitious folks wouldn’t even travel within viewing distance of it.

You did not put much faith in superstition though, and no matter what was in there it couldn’t be worse than how badly Jorry would beat you if he caught up to you. If you had just taken your punishment in town someone would have happened by or heard your screams and he wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as he would all the way out here.

Again, a truly fatal miscalculation. You damn fool.

Hoping that you were safe in the cave you crouched in the shadows. But, while absurdly violent, your pursuer was not particularly dimwitted. He pretty quickly surmised that the cave was the logical place for you to have gone. You heard him scream and call for you in the distance.

The only chance to avoid the beating of your lifetime was to retreat farther into the cave. You crept back as silently as humanly possibly. When you went as far back as you could you came across an old metal door, carved into the rock surrounding it were twisting serpents. An ancient rune of unknown meaning was etched into the door itself.

Staring at it filled you with dread and you were possessed with the all consuming urge to flee the way you had come, but it was forgotten as if it was never there when you heard Jorry again, this time near the entrance of the cave. If he entered it now he would be able to see you. Light still made it this far.

With the subtle magic of the rune no longer working on you, you slowly opened the metal door and entered into what looked like an underground mausoleum. An underground tomb long forgotten by the histories of man.

You found yourself between two large rectangles of stone. A chill ran up your spine when you realized they were sarcophagi. Evidently the final resting place for two souls left to the dark and dust of this cave. They were plain and unadorned, other than some words on the top. You leaned over and tried to make out the inscription on one when you suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of stone grating against stone.

The sarcophagus opposite of you moved before the one in front of you did. You tripped backwards in fright as the lids were pushed aside and two pale emaciated corpses pulled themselves up and faced your direction. You couldn’t quite tell in the dark but it seemed like their eyes were completely black, creating a chilling contrast with their pale skin.

The thin pale figures slowly began to pull themselves out of their not so final resting places as you got over your initial shock, got up, and got the fuck out of there. You sprinted past the metal door and back into the front of the cave.

You were so engrossed with the current task of running away from the corpses of the damned risen to do any manner of unholy things to those still living that you did not see Jorry as he entered the cave. For the second time that day you careened right into him, knocking you both out of the cavern and on to the dirt outside.

Jorry growled and grabbed your leg, pulling you over to him.

“You ran like a bitch, finally decide it’s better to face your punishment?”

“No, no, no, you don’t understan-”

He pinned you and began wailing away at your smaller body with his mighty fists. Blow after blow. Your nose was surely broken. Then he got up and started stomping on you with his powerful foot. Now some ribs were certainly broken too.

Suddenly you heard Jorry yelp and the beating stopped. Your face was swollen and bloodied, your mind consumed by the pain of broken bones. You couldn’t tell what was going on. Jorry was screaming, blubbering like a girl. The dearly departed had been slowed due to their time without feeding, but with Jorry distracted by his treatment of you he was easy enough prey.

The thin pale figures had him down on the ground, pinning him with less effort than he had pinned you. They bit into his body, ravenously drinking his blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to reinvigorate themselves and make him weak and helpless. Barely able to move.

You had managed to wipe the blood from your face and saw what was transpiring. You tried your best to drag yourself through the dirt and put distance between yourself and them, but you only managed to get about a foot away before they finally noticed you.

“Alaric look! The one who saved us… they need tending to.”

The vampire evidently named Alaric joined his companion in looking over you. As injured as you were, you struggled to plea for mercy.

“Shhh, shhh. We aren’t going to hurt you. We’d never hurt our savior.”

“I’m Anthelm Noctwind and this is my twin brother Alaric Noctwind. We're going to help.”

Anhelm positioned himself so that your head was propped up in his lap. He bit at his wrist until blood was flowing.

“Here. Drink.”

You weren't sure what lore was true and what was merely myth, but you were fairly positive that it was universally agreed upon that turning into a vampire required the consumption of one’s blood. You struggled to turn away but you were powerless to do so. Alaric held your mouth open as Anthelm held his bleeding wrist above it.

Blood dripped in and you gagged as you were forced to swallow. It tasted the same as any blood, though perhaps a little sweeter. Shortly after you consumed it you lost consciousness. Both due to the blood itself and your rather severe injuries.

They took you and Jorry back into the cave. It would take the rest of the day and a lot of the night for you to turn and heal. Alaric carried you with the utmost care and consideration for your wounds while just picking up Jorry and tossing him in unceremoniously, causing him to cry out in pain as he hit the hard rocky floor.

“I’d kill you now and decorate this place with your entrails, but we need you for something, so just keep quiet.”

Between Jorry’s incessant pleas to be freed and his attempt to run out of the cavern while they were both busy watching you resulted in his clothes being torn from him and ripped into strips that were used to bind and gag him.

Alaric, the cruelest of the brothers, watched in amusement as their hog tied victim cried and shook in fear. The hulking peasant experiencing the fear of death for the first time. The amused vampire went over to him and pet him like he was a pet, in mock sympathy.

“Don’t worry~,” Alaric cooed, “You’ll be out of your misery soon enough.”

That prompted renewed struggles from the naked man. Alaric only laughed in a maniacal fashion as he returned to your side. They had removed their coats, still pristine as the day they had been sealed away, and used them as bedding for you.

They patiently waited for hours, Alaric occasionally taunting poor Jorry, until you finally stirred. The swelling had gone, your bones had mended, and they had licked up the blood that had covered your face. The only evidence that you had ever suffered at all were the bloodstains on your clothing.

It was well past midnight, the twins had lit a fire to keep you and themselves warm. You could see them clearly now that your face was healed. They both looked exactly alike, down to the same outfits. High class, but outdated, attire. They had pale grey eyes that observed your every movement, completely different from the black voids you thought you had seen earlier. Flawless pale skin with delicate, feminine, features. Their long straight hair accentuated their looks perfectly. They could certainly pass as women if they wore the right attire. Maybe they lured in victims that way.

You were confused and more than a bit groggy, but you managed to piece together all the events that had transpired before your rest. You jumped up and made for the door but they were quicker than anything, human or animal, that you had ever encountered. One got behind you with his hand on your shoulders and the other stood in front with his hand on your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, dove. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

You whimpered as they each took one of your hands and guided you over to Jorry.

“You consumed vampiric blood, right now it has transformed you. Temporarily.”

“Yes, to make it stick you’ll now need to kill.”

“Technically it doesn’t need to be human, any mammal will do, but since we have this lovely volunteer we figured we shouldn’t waste it. ”

“Don’t really want him talking about us. Don’t really want him to live after hurting our dove. And, well, it spares some rodent that is more deserving of life.”

You shuffled nervously.

“I… don’t want to be a… vampire…”

You looked down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact with them or Jorry who looked up at you with tears streaking his face.

“Sorry, but we aren’t really giving you a choice.”

“We didn’t mean to make it seem that way, please forgive us.”

“You saved us, you had enough magical power to open the door and ignore the rune. You will be a strong vampire, and we can tell a lot more about you by your scent.”

“Smell things like personality, even some thoughts. We know you will be perfect for us.”

“Uh… can’t I just stay with you and remain human?”

“No.” They both said in unison.

“Humans age and die.”

“Humans have betrayed us too. That’s how we ended up here. You broke the seal so we have to show our gratitude.”

You kept staring at your feet until you worked up the courage to ask the question you were afraid to hear the answer to.

“What if I refuse?”

Anthelm smiled and Alaric laughed as if it was a funny joke. Not that you could tell them apart yet.

“Not a choice sweetie, remember?”

“If you don’t do it willingly then I block the tomb entrance so you can’t go deeper.”

“And I guard the cave exit so you can’t leave. Then we leave you alone with your friend. Your hunger will grow. You’ll crave blood. Your senses will be unbearable.”

“You’ll hear his heartbeat, he will smell delicious, then you’ll drain him dry.”

“In more normal circumstances he could survive that, and the blood consumption without a death only prolongs the transitional period, it wouldn’t make you a true vampire. Go long enough without blood, have someone tie you up for a few days, and you’d turn fully human.”

“But he is weak and beaten. He won’t survive.”

You looked at them and stated boldly that you’d resist.

“You are more than welcome to try.”

They each took their agreed upon spots to guard against you fleeing. True to their word you did steadily become more and more hungry. Thirsty for blood. Your senses became acutely aware of the food that had been tied up for you. You tried to resist. Your body shook with the effort. You had a splitting headache and panted heavily. Jorry smelled so good, and the beat of his heart beckoned you towards him. Though you resisted longer than most, the outcome was inevitable.

You descended upon him, he squealed as much as he could with his gag as you bit into his neck and sucked him dry. His futile struggles getting more feeble by the second until they stopped entirely.

Alaric and Anthelm were behind you watching with wicked smiles.

When you finished your meal of Jorry you looked on in horror. But only briefly. You had over consumed and the effects were as powerful as they were swift. You were a bit dizzy and felt as though you were light as air.

“With his death you’ll be with us forever!”

You tried to get up but stumbled and nearly fell. One of the twins caught you. You smiled and nuzzled into his neck. There was a cute man holding you, why had you been so horrified earlier? You shrugged it off, if you couldn’t remember then it probably wasn’t too terribly important.

“Careful, dove. The first times on human blood and drinking to the point of death can be intense.”

“And we definitely let you drink too much.”

You giggled and stroked Anthelm’s soft black hair, not at all paying attention to his words.

“You’re prettier than any girl I’ve ever seen.”

He blushed and Alaric cackled at the spectacle. Until you kissed Anthelm deeply. Then Alaric looked a bit jealous.

You grinded your crotch against Anthelm and giggled at the face he made.

“Everything feels so… intense.”

“Ddon’t you want to go somewhere a bit more... comfy?

“Or romantic? We could find a town. An inn.” Added Alaric.

You ignored him, proceeded to unbutton his shirt and then rubbed your hands over his lean abs. He started returning the treatment, Alaric came over and helped him undress you. It didn’t take long for all three of you to be nude. They used the clothes to make an impromptu bed. Anthelm laid down, his erect cock on full display.

He pulled you on top of him, kissing and nipping at your neck while Alaric was behind the two of you. He pressed two spit-lubed fingers into both you and his brother. Both of you writhed in pleasure, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Alaric didn’t need to stretch either of you out, vampires wouldn’t be pained by something like a cock shoving its way in, but it would feel better with more moisture. He withdrew his fingers, making you pout, and lubed up his cock with saliva before sucking on his brothers for a moment to get it wet.

Then he guided his brother's dick into you before sliding his own cock into his brother. You pressed back against it, trying to get the girthy member as deep into you as possible. Anthelm humped into you slowly, timing his thrusts with your bounces.

Alaric gasped as his cock was gripped by his brother’s tight inviting insides, he gripped Anthelm’s legs for leverage as he drove himself deeper. Anthelm, in the middle of all the action, could barely think. Simultaneously making love to you while being bred by his twin had him drooling.

“Always so tight…”

“Alaric, h-harder.”

His sibling obliged him.

You were in a worse state than Anthelm. You were new to being a vampire and the blood drunkenness combined with your recent kill made every sensation indescribable. More so when the sensations were that of a vampire at your neck and a cock humping into you while you weakly continued to bounce on it.

Anthelm’s entire body shook as he came in you, shoving his cock far into depths before unloading his seed. He took a few moments to catch his breath, an orgasm evidently enough to tire a vampire. If only for a moment. He stayed hard and began fucking into you again.

“I think you were made for us, angel.”

The stimulation was just too much for you and you screamed as you had the most intense orgasm of your entire life. Your body relaxed as you lay on Anthelm, no longer bouncing on his cock but content to let him keep using you as long as he saw fit as you nuzzled into his chest.

Alaric gripped his brother’s legs tightly as he finally slammed in hard and filled him like he had filled you. Without missing a beat he slid out of his brother, covered his cock in the cum that pooled out of him, and slid it right into you. Both of there cocks now covered in a slimy mix of both of their loads, using it as lube as they thrust into you in tandem. You whimpered at the sheer immensity of the pleasure that was filling you.

The three of you spent the rest of the entire night, and a good chunk of the morning, engaged in a rapturous sea of sex. Eventually you all fell asleep on top of them. Given their recent centuries long slumber they stayed awake and idly toyed with your hair or caressing you as you slept soundly.

They whispered to themselves about what the plan from there was.

“There’s a stream outside we can clean ourselves off in.”

“Yeah, I can smell it. After that head to a town?”

“A large one where we can blend in. Feed on livestock outside the walls. Maybe rats too if necessary. Always rats in large towns.”

“What about humans? Always rapists and thugs in cities that need to be taken care of.”

Alaric looked at Anthelm hopefully.

“True. True,” Anthelm relented, “I suppose it won’t hurt to remove a few bad ones. On occasion.”

Alaric broke into a large grin.

“Yes! I love how our new partner gets when they are drunk on human life.”

You stirred a bit in your sleep though you didn’t wake, drool under your cheek and on Alaric’s bare chest.

“Quiet, they need their rest…”

“Sorry,” Alaric murmured sheepishly.

They continued chatting about the future until you woke up. With a clearer head you were once more traumatized by what you had done, but they calmed you down and explained how he deserved it and that you were not a monster. They would guide you in your new life.

They were eager to leave behind the cave that had held them prisoner for so long. Bidding the cave farewell with a piss on Jorry’s soon to be rotting corpse, the closest thing he would get to a burial, the brothers departed with you.

You made a life for yourselves in one of the larger cities. Anytime someone tried to hurt you they went missing quite fast. It would be many years still before you had the degree of strength and power that the twins possessed. And even once you did they’d always remain overprotective.

You quickly came to accept and love your new existence with them. Anthelm took up your trade with you while Alaric became a prominent cook and eventually owner of his own restaurant. Apparently the hypersensitivity of vampiric taste buds helped him make delicacies. There was always a need for carpentry and fancy food, so you never had any money troubles, (un)life was good. And you had an eternity to spend it with them.

I love this and this is so cute.

Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 1

(⚠️ sucide)

In your former life, you were the twin sister of Joffrey and you were wed to Robb Stark.

However you choose to stand on your husband's side when war erupted.

The problem is your mother and your twin didn't like that at all.

So, Roose Bolton kills Robb and Catelyn.

He was planning on returning you to your mother, but you ended your life before he could do so.

You didn't imagine that you would be reborn in the past as the twin sister Of Jacearys Velaryon.

Even in this life, you were born as a bastard.

Yet, Rhaenyra is an amazing mother, and so are your new brothers.

Unlike cruel Joffrey who used to hit you whenever you refused his advances, Jace would only treat you kindly and is overprotective.

And Lucerys reminded you of Tommen.

You also adore baby Joffrey and don't care about how his name is the name of your previous twin.

But there is one problem you tried to fix in Luke and Jace and this was bullying Aemond.

But they took Aegon as their role model.

Unlike Targaryens, you refused to interact with your dragon because you were simply afraid.

You even own a cat, who you enjoy spending time with instead of the dragon.

Aegon reminded you greatly of Joffrey, never the less, Aegon wasn't a psycho.

He wouldn't waste a moment in teasing you day and night.

"One day you will become my wife"

Rhaenyra happened to hear what he said one time, and immediately betrothed you to Jace. Despite how much you refused the idea.

When Luke deforms Aemond, you quickly try to control the situation like a Lannister.

"This was not anyone's fault but mine, As the eldest twin I should have been watching over them all"

Everyone is shocked by your words, meanwhile Rhaenyra wanted to intervene, same with Daemon who believed that the Hightowers deserves nothing.

however, you get down on your knees in front of Alicent, after taking the Targaryen's ancestral dagger.

"Take one of my eyes instead, I hope it's more then enough repayment"

Of course, Alicent doesn't do that, you only earned the Queen's love with such brave action.

Viserys' is happy at how you defused the situation.

Those actions made everyone obsessed with you.

Part 2>>>

I can see Aegon having the twins and them following him around everywhere he goes.

Suddenly got very into House of the Dragon and now I have an idea to share.

Platonic Yandere targaryens with Aegon.

Viserys and alicent become obsessed with him when he was born. He has dozens of knights to protect him, never alone unless with his family. He’s so precious he must be protected. He can do no wrong.

Viserys wants to move him into a tower so he is safe from everyone and everything that could hurt him. Still brings it up, trying to convince Aegon that the tower would be so good and fun for him! His own space (locked away, only for his families eyes. No one else can see him, they could hurt his precious boy.) Aegon is often called to his fathers side, enjoying the loving attention and affection from his father.

Rhaenyra is very protective of her baby brother. Considers taking him to Dragonstone many times. Precious baby boy loves his big sister too. Always excited to see her. She rubs it in alicents face that Aegon gets more excited to see her then his own mother.

Uncle Daemon will commit several war crimes for this small boy. Makes sure to rest every single one of his guards to ensure he is safe. The safest boy.

Grandsire Otto will use every connection he has to keep the boy safe and secluded. No one outside the castle will see him, anyone who could be a threat is arrested and put to death for crimes against the crown.

Helaena and Aemond keep him company as they grow older. They are selfish and want to keep him to themselves, not even they’re parents can see him if they are there. Aemond trains to ensure he can protect his big brother, he’s so fragile. He and Vhagar can protect him, who would go against the largest Dragon in the world. He claimed Vhagar and lost an eye to protect him. He remembers his dear sweet brother crying for him, for his injuries. Helaena will keep watch through her dreams. Though criptic they can help her keep her brother safe with them. Only with them. No one else. They can’t touch him!

His nephews follow they’re mother. So protective. He can do no wrong. They try to convince Aegon to go with them to Dragonstone, they can protect him there. They have more dragons there, they will make sure no one can hurt him.

Baela and Rheana follow too. They were taught from a very young age to watch over they’re cousin, he is fragile and to be protected. He needs them. They will run to Daemon for the slightest thing regarding his safety. He was found in the gardens with only 12 guards? They will get Daemon to punish them for slacking off on they’re duty. One of his servants looked at him for 0.2 seconds longer then they should? Clearly they are stalkers and seek to harm the Prince! They should be punished

Even Sunfyre is obsessed with him. However unlike the humans of the family, Aegon will go willingly where every the dragon flies. Aegon can be seen sneaking away to the dragon pit to fly with his beloved dragon. They’ve lost many men because the fools tried to seperate the dragon from his rider. If he could, sunfyre would follow him around the castle.

Suprise twist is that Aegon remembers being king. He remembers the dance of the dragons. He remembers dying. He woke up in this strange world where his whole family is begging for his attention and will kill in his name. Viserys tried to name him Heir to the throne but Aegon refused, it is Rhaenyras birthright and he would not take that from her.

Love Me Again

Pairings: Dark!Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: You run into your high school boyfriend Billy at a Christmas party. What started out as a nice reunion quickly turns dark when Billy confesses he still has feelings for you.

Warnings: IMPLIED NON-CON, kidnapping, violence. DO NOT READ IF THESE WILL UPSET YOU. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONISBILITY.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @lokislastlove XXXmas Challenge. This is my first dark fic and my first time writing for Billy Russo. Sorry if it sucks!

It includes: "The flames of the artifical fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of hear between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree." ; obsessive ex ; "You lied to me. I don't like liars." ; : "I hurt you. You hurt me first!"

_______________________________________

The flames of the artificial fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of heat between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree. An old friend from high school, Richelle, had invited you to her house for a holiday party, something she said was a chance to catch up and make up for lost time but really you knew she wanted to rub her success in her former peers’ faces. Her “house”, which was really more of a mansion, was out in the Hamptons. Her husband was handsome and nice but rather bland.

When you first received the invitation, gold cursive embossed on ivory cardstock, you rolled your eyes at her blatant attempt to be flashy but then you decided it was your attempt to show everyone from high school how beautifully you had come into yourself since graduation. Your black dress hugged your curves flatteringly, revealing skin in just the right places without being inappropriate for the occasion. Your lips were painted crimson and your subtle yet classic makeup was upgraded by a modest sheen of glitter to give it that festive pop.

Hors d'oeuvres were arranged on silver and gold platters, decorated with sugared cranberries and rosemary to look like frosted sprigs of pine and berries, as if walking outside into the cold New York snow didn’t provide enough of that ambience. You filled a small plate with various fancy pastries that you couldn’t entirely identify but they smelled delicious regardless before returning to a small group of people you had found, old friends from your favorite club. “Oh my gosh! I remember that!” You laughed, covering your full mouth with your hand while you listened to Marcus’s memory of the time your class teamed up with the security guards to play a prank on your teacher, “Mrs. Smith was so mad after that.”

“Serves her right! She was such a bitch!” Christine defended through her laughs.

You nodded, “She really was! I swear, if you hate kids that much, teach college or something…”

Christine picked up off of Marcus’s story and continued with her own spinoff but you couldn’t be bothered to keep up with her words. The world around you seemed to dull as you locked eyes with those dark brown orbs across the room. A surprised smile of disbelief spread across your face as you saw Billy Russo for the first time in years. His face lit up to match your own as gazes met and you excused yourself to glide over to him.

“Billy! I can’t believe you’re here!” You embraced him tightly, his arms pulling you closer into him and you couldn’t help but notice the expanse of muscle you felt pressed against your body.

He released you and gave you a dazzling grin, “When Richelle sent the invite, I couldn’t refuse. Shit, you look great!” Billy gestured up and down your body and your cheeks burned.

“Me? Look at you!” You waved your hand up and down, from his face that had always been well-structured but now had this sexy maturity to it down to his body that was clad in a tailored suit that accentuated his amazing physique. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in forever. My favorite jarhead…”

Billy laughed at your old nickname for him and sipped from his glass of what you assumed to be whiskey, “Well, you know, I was in the marines for a while but since I got out I started a hired arms business, Anvil. I’ve, uh, I’ve been doing good.”

A genuinely proud sigh left your lips, “I’m so glad you’ve been doing well. It sounds like you’ve done good for yourself. You deserve it, Billy.” And you meant it. You were no stranger to Billy’s hard past. You’d spent a good portion of it with him. The two of you had gone to school together for years as class-friends but not really that close, until you started dating when you were seventeen. It had only lasted a year, both of you parting ways after high school, but he had been your first love and you his.

He looked at you with caring eyes and a smirk that could kill. “Thank you,” he nodded, “but enough about me. What about you? Surely you’ve taken over the world by now.”

You shrugged with faux arrogance, “I’m just that good. I overthrew the world and there wasn’t even a hiccup in daily life. No lives lost, no crashing economies. I was meant for world domination.” You giggled and chewed your lip, “No, but, um, really, I’m doing pretty good. I got that job I always talked about when we toge- when we were in high school. I’m living in Brooklyn now and… um, yeah. I think that’s about it for the big stuff.” You chuckled, finding it difficult to find anything interesting about your life.

“Living in Brooklyn with a boyfriend?” Billy pressed casually and you rolled your eyes, waving off the question.

“Oh no! No, still single,” you glanced away with an awkward chuckle before looking back to him, “What about you? Still terrorizing the women of New York with those killer eyes of yours?”

Billy looked away jokingly with a guilt that told you that you were right in your teasing accusations but then he shook his head, “There’s always only ever been one girl for me.”

The air got thick between the two of you as you realized what he meant. “Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.

“You know, I never stopped loving you,” Billy admitted without reservation.

Your mouth fell open but words failed to follow. What were you supposed to say to that? “You were my first love too,” you attempted to not agree with his sentiments while not entirely blowing them off either but the dark glint in his eyes told you that maybe that wasn’t the right approach.

Billy looked at you like you held the galaxy in your eyes, “My first and only. You know, I was never able to stop thinking about you. The thought of you was the only thing that kept me going when I was over in Afghanistan.”

“I, uh, that’s very flattering, Billy,” you stumbled over your words, nervous by the underlying tone that he expected you to reciprocate. His dark eyes were locked with yours in an invasive terrifying way he’d never looked at you with. Electricity crackled in the air dangerously and you felt an overwhelming urge to leave.

Thankfully, your phone began to buzz in your purse and you held up your finger. “I’m so sorry, I need to take this really quick,” you lied apologetically, looking at the number that was likely spam. Nevertheless, you answered the phone, “Hello? Mhm… Really? Right now,” you sighed, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be right in.”

You gave Billy an apologetic look as you waved your phone in faux annoyance. “I’m so sorry. It’s a 9-1-1 from work. I need to go,” you lied, knowing you had heard nothing but a recorded message about your car’s extended warranty on the other end. You reached for Billy’s hand and squeezed it tightly, “It’s been great seeing you again, Billy. Take care of yourself.”

As you went to walk away, Billy’s hand flipped up to grab your wrist and your blood suddenly ran cold as ice. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look from where his hand gripped tightly around your arm to his eyes that bored into yours dangerously. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said threateningly.

“Billy, let me go,” you demanded, fear making your voice falter just slightly. You tried to rip your hand away but his grip was like iron.

He sighed with feigned regret before twisting your wrist in a way caused an intense pain to shoot through your joint. “Agh!” You hissed and he let off just slightly.

He pressed his body into your side in a way that just looked like you were walking close to each other. “Shhh,” he cooed in your ear, “All I wanted to do is talk but you had to go ahead and lie to me. Now you better act normal or I’m gonna have to snap this pretty little wrist and neither of us want that.” Billy applied pressure again just to prove his point and you winced, knowing damn well that if he pressed any further your bones would surely give.

Billy began to lead you through the crowd of people, smiling at your former classmates as if he wasn’t forcefully leading you towards the door. “You can’t do this,” you mumbled to him but he just shoved your body forward slightly.

You tripped over your heels and he caught you, “Hey!” He chuckled loudly, “I got you.”

A guy you must have gone to school with but couldn’t place a name for glanced over to the two of you, “Hey, Billy! Everything okay?”

Billy just nodded like a good Samaritan, “Yeah, she just had a little too much to drink. I’m gonna drive her home. Make sure she gets there safe.”

Before you knew it, you were out the door and being bitten by the freezing cold. Billy led you to a sleek black car and shoved you inside. The moment the door was shut, you tried to throw it open before Billy could get into the driver’s seat but the moment your feet hit the snow, you heard a gun cocking. When you looked up, you found yourself staring down the end of a barrel. “Stay.” The word was short and simple but enough to invoke more fear than you’d ever felt.

Slowly, you retreated back into the passenger’s seat and Billy slammed the door shut again. This time, you sat quietly for the first several minutes of the drive “Where are we going?” you demanded.

“I wanted to show you my place. It’s pretty nice, y’know,” he said as if he hadn’t just taken you at gunpoint.

Your hands shook, “Take me home.”

“I am. I’m taking you to what could be our home. Just come see what you could have with me,” Billy tried to persuade you but you just felt sick.

“Billy, you just dragged me out of a party and forced me into your car at gunpoint! I don’t want you!” You spat, your eyes brimming with angry, terrified tears.

Billy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead at the road, flurries blurring the windshield. “That’s just because you don’t know what you’re missing yet! But don’t worry, you’ll see. You’ll remember what we had. You’ll remember how much you love me.”

The car slowed to a stop inside of a parking garage and Billy led you inside a tall apartment building and up to his nice apartment. Once inside, his demeanor changed and he became more gentle again, guiding you inside before turning around and locking the door - all three locks.

“Y-you have a very nice apartment,” you swallowed hard, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Billy? You have a nice place, a nice car, a nice face. You’ve come so far and I’m really happy for you. Can I please go now?” You pleaded, fear and anger mixing dangerously inside of you.

Billy shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto the coat hook beside the door. He sauntered towards you while rolling up the cuffs of his white button up, back you into the dining room. Under different circumstances, you would have been impressed with the space but under the current circumstances, you wanted to be anywhere else. “No, no…” Billy shook his head, “You see, I’ve got the job. I’ve got the apartment. I’ve got the money. The only thing I’m missing is you.”

You shook your head, your back coming to hit the wall of his dining room. “This isn’t the way.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me earlier. You lied to me. I don’t like liars. Especially when the girl I love is using excuses to get away from me,” he tutted as if you should be feeling guilty.

Your eyes widened, “And was I wrong?! You kidnapped me!”

Billy shook his head, impressed, “No! You’re smart, aware. It’s some of the sexiest things about you. It makes you dangerous and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like a bit of danger.” He ran a hand up your exposed arm. Goosebumps formed and you shivered, flinching away from his touch.

Suddenly, he gripped your bicep hard enough to pepper your arm with bruises and used the other hand to press against your throat. He wasn’t choking you but he used his leverage expertly to pin you against the wall, right where he wanted you. Still, it was enough to cause pain and terror. “You’re hurting me!” You exclaimed through a choke with a panic, hands flying up to try to pry the hand from your neck.

“I’m hurting you?!” Billy pressed you harder into the wall before letting you go, as if throwing or shoving you into a wall you were already flush with, “You hurt me first.”

Your brows furrowed and your hands rubbed your arm, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Billy turned and ran his hands through his hair, which now fell messily in his face. The debonair man you had reconnected with just an hour ago was now a crazed shell of who he had been.

“You left me. You broke my heart!” Billy exclaimed wildly, now using his gun to gesture from you to himself.

Your confusion was no clearer, “What? I didn’t leave you! We were together for a year and then you joined the marines! We agreed to break up. You said you didn’t want to hold me back and-”

“And you were supposed to stay!” Billy yelled, interrupting you, “You were supposed to tell me that I wasn’t holding you back! That you were gonna wait for me! That you loved me!”

“I did love you!” Hot tears streamed down your face now, “I did, Billy, and you know that! We agreed to break things off because I didn’t want to get married and have my life dictated by wherever the hell the government told me I was allowed to live! And you agreed! You agreed that it wasn’t fair that my dreams be put on hold while you were overseas.”

Billy shook the gun at you and he was nearly in tears, “You don’t get it!”

“I was gonna wait for you! I told you that I was gonna wait for you! I wrote to you every chance I got and eventually I stopped getting letters back. That’s not on me!” You defended yourself angrily. Years of heartbreak that you suppressed started coming out and maybe it was the fear of dying without letting him know how you felt that was letting the truth flow freely but you were furious that Billy had the audacity to think things ended this way. “Billy, I loved you so much.”

Billy looked away, pained, “You see… that’s the problem right there. ‘Loved’. Past tense.” He walked towards you menacingly, glock swinging with trained comfort, “You know I went to that party hoping to impress you. I just wanted to show you how far I’ve come from that little boy in the group home. How I went from that scrawny broken teenager to a decorated special forces marine.”

His hand snaked up your body and gripped your jaw tightly, “But you don’t care about any of this, do you?”

His grip was painful and when you tried to nod, you just found your head shaking minimally in his palm. “It is impressive!” You tried complimenting through smushed cheeks, “I am proud of you. But you need to understand that kidnapping is not the way to get someone to love you again. Not genuinely.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to be honest with the violent veteran who had his hand around your face, surely strong enough to break your neck with minimal effort, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what he wanted to hear. When you saw him, you still saw that seventeen year old you were in love with, that you could tell anything to, and you hoped he was still in there.

“Billy, if you love me, you’ll move your hand, okay? You don’t hurt the people you love,” you reasoned desperately.

His grip loosened but it didn’t fall as he looked down into the crook of his elbow. His face was red, his eyes were wild. He looked back up to you as if he were pleading, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cried, “I never did. All I ever wanted was to protect you.”

“Then let me go. Please-”

Billy shook his head and swallowed hard, forcing his own tears down. Instead of letting you go, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, beard scratching your chin and his hot tears mixing with your own. “I can’t do that. You understand, don’t you?”

Using his grip on your neck, he pulled your body into the dining room table and he placed a large palm on your back, pressing you face down onto the wooden table. Your eyes widened in panic as he kicked your feet apart. “Wait, wait, wait!” You begged, trying to force your body up. You stomped your heel clad feet back blindly, hoping to slam into Billy’s feet wildly. “Billy, stop! You don’t need to do this!”

He pulled your hands behind your back and used his belt to tie them together before bending over your body. Billy brushed your hair gently to the side and kissed your ear sweetly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I just need to remind you how much you love you love me.”

— António Ferreira Masterlist

Roadside assistance // NSFW

I love this post

Sold Like Cattle

Yandere Bull Man x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Non-con/Dub-con, unintentional drugging, musk kink, kidnapping, general yandere themes, chubby reader) Word Count: 5.6k This is only my second fic, and my first long one, but I hope people enjoy it! (Normally I would not describe the reader’s appearance at all, but I feel like few fics cater to chubby body types so I decided to in this one. The chubbiness is not fetishized.)   Finally! You were settled in your room. You were in a small resort on the planet Elrelda, You never imagined that you would actually be able to afford a trip off your home planet for a vacation, but here you were! You had received a coupon through your employer (technically a branch of the same company that booked trips to and owns the resorts on this planet). You got this trip for a whopping 80% off. Very generous of Synthis, the largest company in the entire galaxy.  Even with such a steep discount you could still only afford the most basic package including passage on a very crowded ship and a small room at one of the crappier resorts. It was still very nice though. Room service was included and musical entertainment provided by the Elreldians, some of the sports native to Elrelda and swimming were available on-site and activities like hiking, fishing, canoeing, and camping were available in the areas surrounding the resort.  You had no idea what you would go to do first, but right now you were happy just to be off that crowded ship, the seating was tight and you are a bit… pleasantly plump and kept getting bumped into the entire trip. The room was pretty small and relative unadorned, but the bed looked comfy enough. You finished unpacking your two suitcases and flopped on the bed. Yes. Comfiness confirmed. Holy shit, this was the cheapest resort, what bedding did the luxury resorts have?! This was way better than anything that existed on your home planet of SX-72. You could spend the whole 5 day trip right here on this bed and it would be money well spent!  But no! You had wanted to see Elrelda for Y E A R S, you could not waste it sleeping. You had to catch one night of the Elreldian’s musical performance, and go hiking, all the plants were varying shades of red! (Probably from the unique atmosphere and having a K-type star) You could not wait to actually see an Elreldian, they were like bovine/human hybrids (probably proof to the theory that some greater life form seeded the galaxy to create intelligent life).  They were well known around the galaxy for their friendliness but very few of them ever ventured out from their home planet. They did not even have very much technology, but they could get passage from other races to leave if they wanted to, and despite that they still had a huge reputation for being peaceful and friendly.  The afternoon music performance would be very soon, you could catch a later performance instead, but you were too excited to wait, so you headed down to the small lounge and took a seat in the far corner far away from anyone else. You were not a people person.  Your jaw dropped as an Elreldian male walked past you to sit in the far corner diagonally opposite from you. He was H U G E. Almost 7ft. tall! And bulky too, you can’t help but stare (rude) at his muscular frame, it looked like his clothing could barely contain it. He had large horns that curved forwards, a mostly human face, and the ears of a bull. As he walked to his seat you saw that he had a tail and hooved feet. You were staring in awe, but he caught you looking and stared back with a domineering gaze. You blushed in embarrassment and looked towards the stage like you were waiting for the performers to get on stage, but you could see he was still staring at you from the edge of your vision.  The length and intensity of his stare unnerved you. You did kind of deserve it though, being a tourist and staring at him so rudely. You felt really. Finally he averted his gaze to the drink he had in his hand and you breathed a sigh of relief. Though you could swear he kept glancing over at you intermittently… Finally the musicians took the stage, a group of 8 Elreldians with large instruments (2 string, 3 percussion, and 3 woodwind) got situated and played several decently long pieces that sounded somewhat reminiscent of an ancient Earth music you had once heard called “folk”. It was not really your thing, but it was cool to experience other cultures!  As soon as it was over you quickly left before anyone else, you had sat relatively close to the door and had no desire to get mixed in with the other people leaving. The music did not last as long as you had expected and there was a ton of time left until nightfall. You were more energized than before after sitting and listening to the music and were ready to explore.  Despite the siren song of the universe’s comfiest bed you decided that you were far too excited and restless to just sleep, the activity that appealed to you the most was hiking, you were pretty chubby, but you actually walked around your town a lot in your free time. So you packed up the essentials into your backpack and set out.  You had been in walking for a good bit, enjoying the sounds of nature with the resort a few miles behind you. You were in a more wooded area and you were amazed by the freshness of the air and the beauty of the crimson red trees. You wish your planet had such beauty, you almost wished that you could just live out here forever. Your serene thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of being watched.  You didn’t see anything though so it was probably just your imagination. You continued for another minute or two but couldn’t shake that feeling. Then you definitely heard a twig snap!  You whipped your head around and saw a red camo painted Elreldian hiding among the trees. Oh. That’s scary. Maybe he doesn’t realize you’ve seen him. Like in a horror movie or game when sometimes the monster doesn’t attack until it is sure it’s cover is blown. You turn back around and walk slightly faster.  Your pace is being matched, easily. You bolt. You run right off the trail as fast as your legs can take you, you are by no means skinny but you can still weave through the thick trees much easier than your pursuer. But speed and stamina are on his side and suddenly you are grabbed by your hips and yanked backwards.  “Let go! Let go! LET GO OF ME!! What do you want!?!”  He turned you to face him, easily lifting you up closer to his face, wait, this was the same Elreldian from the lounge, the one you got caught staring at earlier, had he been this offended about? Had you violated some unknown and important social rule that was not covered in the pamphlets?  “P-please let me go! I am so so s-sorry for staring earlier. I didn’t m-mean to offend you or your customs!!” You stammered as you tried to move your head away to avoid his way too close and way too intense stare. He simply held you with one muscular arm and used his now free hand to gently but easily grip your chin and make you face him. You bit your lip and looked down, unable to meet his eyes.  “Can’t let you go. Need heifer. You are soft and smell nice (Y/N). You need protecting. I am Arrin. You’ll be my mate, I will protect you.” He stroked your cheek gently with his thumb.  “N-no uh, no, no, no n-no no. I am a human! Not a bovine!! I can’t be your h-heifer! A-and I have a home and everything!” As you started kicking and thrashing you realize that the red painted bull-man is completely naked (though he carried a small pack of supplies), he had shaggy fur covering his legs up to his waist, his chest and abs were bare, but his arms were covered in the same shaggy red painted fur as his legs. He was exceptionally muscular and had huge furry nuts as well as a large human looking cock, thought it was considerably thicker and a bit longer and you knew you most certainly did not want to be “mated” with that.  “Th-this is illegal! This is kidnapping!!” You kicked and hit as hard as you could but it was completely ineffective. Like a mouse smacking a cat.  “See? Weak. Need herd. Need mate. Need me. So soft (Y/N).” He squeezed your butt firmly as he held you to emphasize the fact that you were very much soft and squishy in stark contrast to his large and powerful form. You kept thrashing though and he just slowly licked up your neck with his tongue a few times in what you assumed was meant to be a calming gesture.  “H-how do you know my n-name??? You can’t keep me against my will! H-humans will come looking for m-me. PLEASE!” You felt hot tears well up in your eyes and start to roll down your cheeks as you began sobbing. “Don’t worry. No one will take you. I paid a lot of rare ore for you. Paid Synthis resort. They told me your name. We have to go home.” And with that he put you over his shoulder with ease, despite your heft. You were sobbing and blubbering and pleading, but you gave up thrashing and squirming. It was useless, he was simply too strong and you were a bit broken realizing that your employer sold you like cattle.  After a while of him carrying you “home” you could not even sob or plead anymore, your voice was too strained and you were too exhausted, instead you just went limp and cried silently as he tried comforting you by rubbing your back surprisingly gently for such a large creature. “Shhh, it’ll be okay. You’re just too weak to be left alone. You HAVE to be protected, okay? You’ll see, you’ll love being my mate.” He spoke gently as if he was speaking to a small naive child who just didn’t understand the basic fundamentals of how the world worked. His words were not exactly comforting to you and you barely heard him anyway as you cried silently.  He only put you down once the entire trip to his home (and your new home) to force you to drink some water since you were so dehydrated from crying. You did as you were told, too tired, dehydrated, and emotionally broken to put up any sort of resistance, besides he was only trying to give you water, he held one hand behind your head as he tilted his canteen towards your lips. You realized that this position prevented you from being able to escape easily had you been so inclined to make an attempt.  After that he gently put you back over his shoulder and continued on the way to his herd’s home. He mentioned all the activities you would be able to do, how you would enjoy being his mate, how you would not have to work for an awful corporation who sold you, how you would love being in the fresh air as opposed to the smoggy industrial planet you had come from.  You mostly tuned him out, too preoccupied with what you were being ripped away from. No more computer or online gaming, no more playing your copy of Skyrim Superior 500th Anniversary Edition while you wait for TES6 to leave pre-development, no more of the food you were accustomed to, no more any of your old life…   Eventually, after what seemed like several hours of being uncomfortably hauled over his shoulder, you arrived at his “herd”. He walked up to the city gate and entered. And, despite your unwilling presence there, you could not help but looking in awe at the place. It was like straight out of a high fantasy RPG! A town full of Elreldians going about their lives and half-timbered brick and wattle and daub buildings, much larger than human buildings of the equivalent architectural time period to accommodate the much larger inhabitants.  Many of the towns folk stared at you, apparently never having seen a human before. That was not surprising, the settlement was just a several hours hike away but humans were not allowed to just visit most of their settlements. You heard some of them shout greetings to Arrin, calling him chief, so apparently he was the leader here. That certainly would not make any potential escape attempts any easier on you. And apparently his nude body did not phase them either, actually now that you thought about it almost none of them had very much clothing. It must be something they save for cooler weather or just when they went around humans. It made sense given all of their fur.  Arrin walked down the cobbled road (his hooves making an amazing clack that you would have really enjoyed were it not for you being kidnapped) and went to one of the larger buildings and entered it. The first thing your brain registered was the smell. It was incredibly musky. Not bad. Just musky.  He F I N A L L Y put you down gently on a couch that was much larger than what a human would ever need. Practically a bed, it was extremely soft and you sank a bit into it. You were extremely sore from being hauled like a sack of potatoes for hours.  Apparently he noticed how stiff you were because he said, “Sorry little doll, I did not intend for you to get so sore. Couldn’t be helped.”    “I am sure it was soooooo hard to not purchase a living being.” Your voice was still hoarse from screaming and crying and pleading earlier, and talking hurt a bit, but a sarcastic quip was always worth it. “Humans are small and soft, good heifers, good cows. Good status symbol for chief to show power.” He explained as if this were common knowledge that everyone knew.  “I am NOT a cow!!”  He smirked very slightly before commenting, “Not yet. Not cow until after breeding. Heifer until then. Don’t worry, will be the best cow.”  “I am a human!” At this he gently squeezed various pudgy parts of your body. “Yeah, but you are soft and close enough. Better than any other mate. That’s why you were hired in the first place. So you could be vetted as a potential mate. I picked you out!”  Anxiety filled your stomach and you suddenly felt extremely dizzy. You knew you had been sold… but this was all planned from the start?? Even a couple years ago when you had started working at Synthis? It was your fate from being hired on to go to be nothing more than cattle for this bull-man? You went silent and started crying again. He took his large thumb and rubbed the tears away gently.  “Don’t worry. I will keep you safe and happy. But right now I have to go shower to get all of this paint off. Starting to itch. Do you want to shower together yet?”  “What?! No!” The indignity and anger dripping from your voice, why would he possibly think you wanted to do that with him?    “Okay. Just offering.” He kissed your forehead before going into another room.  Apparently despite the medieval style cottage like buildings they had more modern showers and electricity as you heard running water come from the other room and noticed the lights in the room you were in. You appeared to be in the living room. It contained a nice rug, the dark red couch upon which you had been placed, a table, some lamps in the corners, and a device with a screen on it. Oh, it looked like one of those ancient television devices that they used to have on Earth! You’d read about those before.  You wanted to take note of your surroundings so that you could later escape. You did not know how you would make it all the way back so far from any trails or indicators of where the resort would be, but one step at a time. You could not just leave right now though. Your self-proclaimed “mate” may be busy, but in the waning hours of daylight there were still several Elreldians around town.  No, your best bet was to just bide your time and take the first good oppurtunity that presented itself to get out, the resort owners had sold you, but that did not mean you couldn’t flag down assistance from some other tourist. The sound of the water stopping suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts of escape and Arrin came back into the living room.  “Sorry for having to leave you alone. I know you aren’t happy here yet.” He was drying himself off with a huge towel before sitting by you and putting his arm around your waist to pull you close. He pretty much made you lean into his hold, he was very warm, it would have been such a cozy and intimate moment had it not come from someone who was holding you against your will, instead it was a sick mockery of comfort, instead making you even more anxious.     “Please. Pretty please. Just let me go. I don’t belong here…” You said it in a small and pleading voice, too tired and voice to strained to shout anymore. And you knew begging was an exercise in futility.  “Can’t. Paid a lot for you. And your people betrayed you. You belong with your mate. You smell too nice and feel too soft for you to be meant to be anywhere else than here with me! I can’t risk you being anywhere else. I knew from the moment I saw you in the list of potentials mates that you were simply made for me.” He said this with sincerity and with what almost sounded like reverence for you.  He then lifted you up easily and put you back down so that you were sitting on his lap, he held you close to him and you could not help but to blush when you realized you could feel the warmth and general shape of his cock through the seat of your pants. You could even feel it stirring. Without warning he tore off your pants and underwear and yanked off your shirt. You feared the worst and were prepared to scream as loud as your tired voice would allow you to but he only slid it between your thighs so that it popped up in front of you as he started grinding and humping slowly.  “I-I really d-don’t want this.” You blushed and stammered, obviously uncomfortable. Why wouldn’t you be?  He starts rubbing your crotch gently as he continues to slowly fuck your chubby thighs. “Sorry baby doll. I can’t really help it. I need this.” He licked the side of your neck from his position behind you and continued his grinding in between your legs as well as his gentle rubbing of you. You could not help letting out a small pleasure gasp at having your neck licked as it was the most sensitive area on your body.  He definitely picked up on that little gasp.  He licked your neck thoroughly, releasing you from the hold of one of his arms he gripped your hair and pulled your head back. This gave him easy access to assault your neck with licks, sucks, and bites. “Mmm~ Uh~ G-g-get off of me~” Your voice was not cooperating in conveying what you wanted, or what you didn’t want in this instance. You bit your lip in a vain attempt at muffling your constant stream of little gasps and moans.  “Doesn’t sound like you really want me to stop.” Arrin redoubled his efforts to hear what he could only describe as the single most beautiful sound on Elrelda. Pure ear candy. It was like it nourished his soul and gave his life meaning. He switched the side he had been working on as he well and truly fucked your thighs.  He moaned your name into your neck as he shot his hot musky cum all over your stomach, crotch, and thighs. He tenderly kissed the neck he had marked with a collar of love bites. They showed prominently on your skin and you could feel them like a brand marking you as his. “G-gross! I definitely need a shower now.” The musky smell given off by him in his arousal and by his potent seed were starting to make you a bit light headed. To be honest it kind of relaxed you. Maybe it was pheromones but you were a bit too out of it between the neck stimulation and scent to put it all together. The cum also made your skin feel a bit tingling and it was much warmer than human semen.  “Sorry. I guess it is good that you waited to take one. To be honest though, you do look even lovelier with my cum all over you…” You blushed and looked down silently, trying to avoid his gaze as you covered your cum coated crotch. He went to the bathroom and you heard the water running for a few minutes before he came back and picked you up gently, licking your sore neck to comfort you.  “Sorry if I overdid it. Had to mark you though. Keeps others away. Reminds you you’re mine.” You don’t bother responding, too tired and still too overstimulated by everything, and if you are being totally honest with yourself, despite his earlier shower his natural scent was kind of comforting, you just leaned your head against his muscular chest and let him carry you. He took you both into the bathroom where he had ran a bath, a bubble bath! A really big bubble bath if you went by a human perspective. You had not had one of those since you were a child. Arrin was kinda sweet… for someone who has kidnapped you…  “I hope the water isn’t too hot. Human skin is much more sensitive than ours. Is it okay” He bent down so you could put your hand in and check, it was a little warmer than what you would have preferred but it was okay.  “I-it’s good. Um… thanks.” He got into the bath with you pretty much in his lap. The water felt nice on your sore and tired muscles, but you were still really shy and nervous about Arrin being in contact with your naked body, not that he had not touched you and seen you already.  “I’ll take care of you, okay? You don’t need to be so tense. You’re part of my herd.” You don’t know why but that was the moment your resistance was really officially broken, something had to be in his musk and his cum because you relaxed and leaned against him, your fears and reluctance were still there but fading quickly into the background.  So what if his cum on your skin or inhalation of his were the culprits in your cooperation? Wasn’t it so much easier to give in? Wasn’t it better too? Your employer SOLD you, even if you got back to the resort your employer owns it, even if you somehow get back on a space shuttle back to SX-72 your employer is who you rent from, and where would you go to work when they have almost a monopoly on everything? They probably wouldn’t just let you live freely…  But Arrin was so sweet, he’d take care of you and keep you safe. You never had to worry about all that stuff if you just gave in… It would be easier on you. And despite your criticisms of your physical appearance he thought you were beautiful…  Arrin gently washed your hair and then scrubbed the rest of your body in what was almost describable as an act of worship, he was thorough, every inch was washed, but he was so careful to not be the least bit rough. When he was finished washing you he gently picked you up and got out of the tub, he sat you on the edge of the tub and dried you off slowly, seemingly to draw out every touch and stroke of you. You still tried to cover up your crotch when you could, you did not know why you bothered at this point though. You looked down quietly as he started to dry himself off and let the water out of the tub. “You’re being so good for me. My good little (Y/N). You’re probably getting cold, I have a present for you. I’ll be right back.” He left and you could hear the sound of his hooves pound the floor as he hurriedly rushed up the stairs and back down before coming back into the bathroom where he presented you with a bundle of clothes. “Here, I had these made specifically for you. They’re made from the softest materially we have, the resorts even get it from us.”  Well, that explained the bed you never got to experience…  You took the clothes he handed you and mumbled a thanks. You put them on quickly, they were absolutely amazing feeling, and they fit perfectly and were even in your favorite color, You assumed your previous employer/human trafficker had given the specifications. You realized the clothes smelled a lot like Arrin and the scent made you a bit spacey.  “You look so nice in them, I scented them so you’d feel safe.” You realized that the scent did make you feel warm, and tingly and safe, his smell should be classified as a drug, fuck it probably WAS a drug, you had never read about this effect prior to coming here though. You should probably be more scared about the change in your demeanor that his cum and musk had on you, but you just could not get yourself to really care at this point, you just felt so calm and submissive~  “Th-thank you for the compliment.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, utterly enraptured with how amazing you were wrapped up in his gifts and his scent. You  flushed a bit at his touch and the consuming stare of his brown eyes which seemed to take you in hungrily. Earlier it would have only served to terrify you and make you anxious.  “Hey. You haven’t eaten since much earlier in the day right? You have to eat.” It was less a random observation and more of a command. He took you by the hand and lead you upstairs to the bedroom, he put you in the middle of his g i a n t bed. You sank a bit into the fabric and all the soft blankets and were once more assaulted by the warm aroma that could only be described by you as unmistakably “Arrin~”  “I am going to be back soon with some food okay? Just rest. You need it.” “U-um o-okay…” You were feeling even warmer and were having a bit of a hard time concentrating. He left to go get your meal but after just a few minutes you were feeling extremely uncomfortable in your clothing, it was far too hot to be wearing anything and you stripped down to nothing. You rolled in Arrin’s blankets and could not get enough of his completely intoxicating smell.  You took one of the large pillows and started grinding into it with such need and yearning for your mate that you started crying desperately, letting out little sobs and wails. Before you knew it Arrin was charging up the steps and rushing into the room, apparently having heard the distressed sounds of his little (Y/N). He was about to ask what was wrong but was instead reduced to open mouth staring at the sight before him. His cute darling crying out for him as they were naked on his bed straddling his pillow between their thighs while sniffing his blankets and clothing he had scented for them. “A-arrin… pleeeease!” Tears streamed down your face the need was almost palpable, it made your chest physically ache. Arrin was instantly at full mast. He really had no idea his smell would affect you in this way. But now that he knew how beautifully submissive and needy it was making you you could rest assured that you would never go without his smell on you ever again.  He got out some lube from his nightstand and applied it liberally to your little needy hole, sliding in one large finger slowly until you were comfortable and then adding in another. When he felt that you were well and truly adjusted, and you were begging for him to mate with you even more desperately, he got in bed beside you and slowly slid his entire length into you, trying to let you adapt to his size before pounding you, but despite his careful ministrations you still let out a whimper of both pain and pleasure. He rocked into you gently giving you plenty of time to get used to him inside of you.  He did that for a while until you started rocking back against him and making little sounds of pleasure, he took that as a signal that you were ready to be properly mated. He groped your ass a bit roughly as he started thrusting back and forth into you, and although he was still being careful not to harm his precious (Y/N) he still penetrated you deeply.   The feeling of being inside his perfect, soft, warm, and willing (well… willing enough) darling was by far the best thing he had ever experienced in his life, if their was any possible guilt or regret in taking you it were certainly gone now.  He grunted almost ferally as he picked up the pace and filled you with hot white cum, you felt a wonderful fullness, but neither of you were done yet. He flipped you over and pinned you down into a mating press and proceeded to breed you significantly harder and faster than before. All the while kissing, sucking, and nibbling on your neck to coax those lovely little gasps and moans from your pretty little mouth, and to make sure you were so stimulated with pleasure that it would override any possible pain.  His large nuts made a resounding slapping noise as they smacked into you, between all the moans, grunts, and sounds of pounding it was like the lewd act itself wanted everyone to know you were being fucked and dominated by your bull. It was so nice~ Why did you need this so badly? Why did he smell so nice and feel so good? Why did you want to submit so badly to him? These questions were pushed further and further away with every thrust, as if his dick were physically shoving them into the abyss. He picked up the pace as you clenched around his shaft.  He caressed your hips as he pounded into you with less and less conscious control to impede him, relying more on instinct, he kissed you roughly and bit your lip a bit. His tongue invaded your mouth and rubbed against yours as if it were trying to dominate it, you moaned into the kiss as he growled as you both came together.  You were completely and utterly his now, his cum flooding you deeply and causing your insides to tingle, if you were perhaps a bit skinnier the copious amount of his seed would bulge out your tummy. You had never felt so content. You went limp under him after cumming, the full brunt of your exhaustion hitting you, he kissed you softly on the lips, the lingering ghost of his kiss was the last thing you felt before falling asleep.  When you awoke from what was probably the deepest and most fulfilling sleep of your life you realized that Arrin was nowhere to be seen and that you had been cleaned again with fresh clothes. You felt nice and refreshed and your head had cleared quite a bit, but you were pretty sore from all the excitement of yesterday.  You were about to hoist yourself out of bed when Arrin came in. “No, don’t try to move too much! Just rest.” He was carrying a large tray with many different plates, a few bowls and bottles, and a cup of something on it. When the smell hit your nose your belly growled quite loudly.  You wiggled back on to the bed and Arrin sat down beside you and slid the large tray of food over both of you. It did not just smell amazing, it looked really good too, you did not really recognize any of the dishes, they were clearly all Elreldian cuisine.  “You fell asleep without having eaten much. I thought it was better for you to rest than to wake you up. But I knew you would need food so I made you all the best dishes.” He held a bite of food up to you to eat.  “I can feed myself!” You reached for the fork in his hand and he pushed your hand into your lap with his free hand and gave you a stern look. “No, mate needs to rest. Won’t have you getting sick from exhaustion. I’m feeding you.” He put the food up to your lips again and glared. “EAT.”  You sighed and opened your mouth and let the stubborn bull feed you. This was your life now. And there was really nothing you could do about it…

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

🌶️ Spicy🌶️ Masterpost

These are all NSFW fics that are either going or finished 😈

Request Info: Please read before making a request

Key:

☣️ Dark: May contain dark themes readers may find disturbing including noncon, dubcon or violence

💝 Cozy: Gentler fics. There may be violence or yandere themes but it is light, or soft yandere

I did my best to categorize these but everything is relative. Please read the trigger warnings carefully before reading

☣️ Tentacle Monster- Chase: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

☣️ Shadowbeast- Rafe: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Headcanon

☣️ Wind God- Torin: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two Part Three Part Four

☣️ Warlock- Landis: nsfw

Oneshot - this is part of a novel that I probably wont post to tumblr

☣️ Knights - Xavier, Dustin, Eli, and Marco: nsfw -- x maid f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Wolf- Ruston: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot, Part Two, Headcanon

☣️ Hesian Alien- Nasos : nsfw-- x f reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

☣️ Hesian Alien Rancher- Kostas: nsfw -- x f reader

Request, Headcanon, Request (SFW) Request

☣️ Gargoyle Book Shop Owner- Heath: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two

💝Vampire Triplets- Church, Sin, and Angel: nsfw -- x f succubus reader

Request

☣️Catman Alien Twins- Qhen and Ceth: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Headcanon, Headcanon

💝Minotaur Demigod- Solomon : nsfw -- x water nymph reader

Request

💝Werebear- Hugo: nsfw -- x childhood friend f reader

Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two, Request, Part Three

☣️ Alpha Gangster- Jude: nsfw -- x f omega reader

Oneshot

☣️ Shapeshifter- Shane: future nsfw -- x f reader

Part One

💝Night Elf- Victor: nsfw -- x f reader

Request

☣️Kelpie- Vylkas: nsfw -- x f reader

Request, Request (SFW)

☣️ Vampire- Marius: semi-nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

💝Shadow King- Zintius: nsfw and sfw -- x f reader

Request (SFW), Part Two (NSFW)

💝Kherae Alien- Idreod: sfw & nsfw -- x reader with glasses

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four (NSFW), Part Five (NSFW), Part six, Part Seven, Part eight

First Person POV available on smashwords

💝Maeder- Rohan: nsfw -- x musician reader

Request

💝Kherae King- Argan: nsfw -- x musician reader

Oneshot

💝Dragon Knight- Severin: nsfw -- x princess reader

Oneshot, Part Two

☣️ Sarantopodarousacentaur (Half man/Half centipede) - Mitas: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Drider: Ruvain: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Changeling: Clark: NSFW -- x flower nymph reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

💝Orc- Moth: NSFW -- x f reader

Oneshot

💝Orc King- Golmad: NSFW -- x f reader with speech disability

Request Oneshot

💝Mothman- Roth: NSFW -- x f reader

Oneshot

Divider from: @saradika

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions

Master list~

Requests will always be open and I am a Christian author so u may see little Christian quotes at the end and remember its my blog and plz keep your negative opinions to yourselves.

Yandere banished prince x reader

Yander emperor x reader

Yandere slave master x reader

Yandere fairytale reverse harem x reader

Yandere King x princess reader

Yandere king x queen reader

Yandere king x reader jealous one-shot

Modern day stories

Yandere millionaire x reader

Yandere model x designer reader

Yandere host x reader

Yandere daycare teacher x single parent reader

Yandere creature x mad scientist reader

Yandere Ex husband x reader

Yandere stepson x reader

Crazy confused Yandere x reader

Yandere backup friend x reader

Yandere time traveler x reader

Yandere hacker x reader

Yandere police officer x reader

Requested

Yandere cheater x reader

Yandere creature drabbles

Coming soon

Yandere fairytale reverse harem x reader part 2

Yandere ghost x reader

Yandere hybrid harem x reader

Yandere gold digger x CEO reader

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

Summarised: (your name) died in a horrific way, but she has been reborn in a new world, where the body she is trapped in is (your name) Targaryen, daughter of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, who took her own life after the death of her dear sister Helaena, who was very close to her.

Warning: This story contains descriptions of sexual violence and vulgar language, a small change of ages of the characters to make more sense.

Author's note: English is not my first language, please let me know so I can correct them.

You just want to relax at least one second or two, maybe end that series or read that special book. Being at university was tough but it was even tougher having a job too in a bar, where if a man showed even a minor interest in you will go he would comein you direction, visibly drunk, smelly and disgusting putting money in your uniform and saying obscenities. Some would just go and leave you alone if you were lucky, but others would try to follow you or even try to touch you, but you always managed to get away and escape them. But is seems that this time, you didn't. Now you were pulled into a lonely alley, next to the trash, with an obviously drunk man, with ginger hair, horrible teeth and a foul smell he gave you a ten-dollar tip but now he was trying to take your clothes off. Fighting and fighting, that's the only thing you could do, and the worst of all you just DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. How to getting yourself out of this situation? He was stronger and bigger than you, he had already taken you underwear off under your skirt until he freed one hand to unzip his jeans, so you put your only free hand in his eye, pressing as hard you could and with rage.

"Ahh! bloody bitch!"

When he let you go, you ran as fast you could, but he grabbed your ankle, causing you to hit your head. You felt dizzy, numb, and you couldn't move your body. Plus your vision was lost; you could only see the little mark on the wall, a dragon with more than one head or at least you thought could see.

"Hey! Get up! I'm not playing! GET UP, BITCH!"

You just heard him, you wished, you really wished that you could get up, but you couldn't. You felt water around your head and neck, but you could see now, it was not water, it was blood, your blood. Now it was cold or at least it was for you, and it was catching you, cold, and colder you felt. that bastard haad gone already, leaving you there, alone, cold, and without underwear. Maybe is a good idea to take a nap, isn't it? Maybe in the morning everything will be better, just maybe.

When you wake up, you are in your crib, hungry, and alone, so you did the only thing you could: you cried.

"What is wrong now,dear?" A woman came up, your mother, "You are hungry, right?" your mother look at you with a soft smile, taking out her breast, she gently brushed your hair as you fed.

You are her little baby, her replica. She wasn’t going to use you like she did with your brothers; you would have freedom in this harsh world, she often thought about your future. But one thing was certain: you weren’t going anywhere from her side. Before she could think of anything else. She left you in your crib, your stomach already full. Even though her other sons wasn’t like you, she loved them. It’s just that you were like her—you have her hair, her nose, her cheeks, and even her smile. You only have your big purple eyes, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were another piece of her.

Even though she didn’t like to admit it, you were her favourite. And even if she never said it, it was obvious to everyone. She fed you herself; you didn’t have a wet nurse like your siblings. She knew that, apart from Rhaenyra, you were the second favourite of the king, her husband. And then there was your sister Helaena, always watching you with her curious eyes, who was only one year older than you. As for Aegon, well, he would always be Aegon—jealous of all the attention and love you received. Of course, he loved you, but why? Why did you receive so much attention and affection? He felt like he had to beg for even a little, as if he didn’t have a grain of love, as if he wasn’t special.

A while later that night, the doors opened, letting in your dear father, followed by someone behind him—your older sister, Rhaenyra. With a smile on his lips and without greeting anyone, not even his wife, he went straight to your crib.

"How is the little one? It seems she’s resting just fine," he said, touching your cheek lovingly. "Everything is fine; she just needs her space, Your Grace," Alicent responded, her voice tense. "She looks like you, but I can feel the dragon inside her," said Rhaenyra, gazing down at you beside her father. "Yes, but I really need the two of you to go. She’s already asleep, and I don’t want anyone disturbing her and—" before the Queen could finish, Rhaenyra interrupted. "We aren’t making any noise. Just five minutes won’t hurt, being by her side."

"Please, Alicent, she’s just a baby. She doesn’t need space; we can stay here with her," the King responded, a touch of obviousness in his voice. "As you command, Your Grace," Alicent replied.

The only thing Alicent could do in that moment was clench her fists behind her back and bite the inside of her cheek, merely watching as her husband and Rhaenyra hovered over your crib, oblivious to the tension and rage on her face. You stirred lightly in your sleep, unaware of the silent battle above you.

"You’ll see, my Queen, she’ll be like me—like a dragon, big and strong," Rhaenyra said softly, her voice filled with affection as she gazed at you.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, her frustration growing with each word Rhaenyra spoke about you and herself. How dare she compare herself to my daughter? Alicent thought bitterly. And how dare they act as if they know what’s best for her? You were her child, and you would never be like Rhaenyra, bearing bastards and shaming the name and duty of your house.

"Yes, she’ll be strong. But now, let’s leave her to rest. It’s late, and we don’t want to wake her," the King said, turning to Alicent. "Thank you, my dear. You’ve done well."

Alicent bowed her head, the polite gesture hiding her fury. "Of course, Your Grace."

As they turned to leave, Alicent stood by your crib, just the two of you once more, her mind racing. She would protect you, no matter what. You were her baby.

The next morning Alicent was awaken by the maids, who prepare her for the day, when she came back in her room were you were before, your crib was empty. Scared call one of the maids

"Where's my daughter?!" She asked with anxiety and tension clear in his voice. "I'm not sure, my Queen. I'll find out right away."

While the maid was gone, Alicent’s anxiety grew. She rushed out of the room, determined to find her daughter. Who dared take her baby away from her protection?

She searched everywhere, her worry mounting with each passing moment. It wasn’t until she reached the garden that she finally saw you—her little baby girl—in the arms of Rhaenyra, walking through the garden with her illegitimate sons, as if nothing had happened,as if they had just stolen her baby.

"How dare you?!" Alicent's pace quickened as she moved to take you into her arms. Before she could reach you, Rhaenyra stepped aside, still carrying you, blocking Alicent’s path.

“We were just taking a walk. She looked so bored and alone in her room, so I thought it would be nice for her to get a little sun,” Rhaenyra explained, gently brushing the little bit of hair you had.

“She’s not yours to decide that! She is my dau—” Alicent began, but before she could continue, Viserys cut her off. “Alicent! Stop right now. She is my daughter too, and I think it’s a good idea that she spends time with her sister and nephews.”

Defedent Alicent just look the little smirk that Rhaenyra gave her. Rhaenyra triumphantly thanked her father, and walked away with you and her little toddlers.

How could she protect you when you had been taken from her side so easily? Why did no one listen to her about what she wanted for her baby? Why was everyone so ignorant?

While Rhaenyra was just happy, feeling she had won against Alicent for you, her little sister, she imagined everything would be better if you were her daughter, her little baby. But Alicent always seemed to step in the way. Soon, you and Rhaenyra would be inseparable. Perhaps you could marry one of her sons, and in that way, you would be with her forever. She envisioned herself as your mother, but ultimately, she would be your mother, no matter what—regardless of Alicent’s rants or even your brothers.

Pt. 2 >> (coming soon)

Author's note: (your name) doesn’t know what will happen to everyone or what will happen to her in the other world.

Can you make yandere male dark prince who notices that his male fiance tries to run away from him?

𝐰𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 ( y! dark prince x m! fiancée reader )

yandere! prince x male! fiancée reader

warnings:

attempted murder

slight animal cruelty

choking

biting/marking

mention of blood

thank you for requesting <3 this went to a much darker route than intended tbh, because this guy kept getting worse in each draft I wrote lmfao. hopefully, you enjoy this since you did specify that the prince had a dark personality mwah mwah 💐💐 ( also imagine the face claim above has a big scar on the left side of the face heh ) 😈

big thanks to @kierahn for beta reading this for me <3 would not have noticed that much mistakes oof. 🌈🌈 kier writes yummy male reader stuff too so check out their blog guys! 💗💗💗💗

✾ | an arranged marriage comes with all sorts of expectations, especially when one is betrothed to a prince from a far larger, wealthier kingdom; his realm abound with riches and harvests, while yours struggle even to survive the winter.

✾ | the arrangement was made when you were both children. in exchange for this future union, your kingdom receives substantial aid from the neighboring realm, including its wealth and crops to sustain your people.

✾ | naturally, everyone was overjoyed by this news. a sad thing it is then, that the prince you are to marry falls short of your expectations.

✾ | not that he wasn't a handsome boy—the second prince is actually a bit more handsome than his elder brother—but the fact that he tried to kill you the first time you met him overshadowed any charm he might have possessed.

✾ | your memory blurs as to how it all went so, so wrong, but it's safe to say that it started when the prince, Lucien, held a small bird between his palms.

✾ | it was a cute little thing, as small as a teacup, with baby blue wings and a stout beak that chirped so sweetly as it looked up at the two of you.

✾ | you recall expressing a desire to keep it, to have its sweet chirping greet you each morning as a reminder of this meeting you share with him—you did not realize what a mistake it was to say such a thing.

✾ | with a fond smile directed at you, Lucien snapped the bird’s wing bone, ignoring its agonized cries as droplets of blood seeped through his small, boyish fingers.

✾ | you saw red. you pounced, lunging at Lucien. your nails scratched at his arms as he finally lets go of the bird, letting it fall to the ground.

✾ | he blinked, confused. “why?” he asked, dodging a blow. he didn’t understand why you were so angry, but you didn’t care to explain.

✾ | the two of you brawled, rolling on the ground as dirt and blood mixed together. but then, lucien grabbed a rock. he hesitated, if only for a moment.

✾ | you dodged, but not fast enough. a sharp pain tore through the corner of your lip, leaving a dark red gash blooming on the right side of your face.

✾ | the pain was sharp, but the sight of Lucien’s detached expression hurt more.

✾ | as anger welled up inside you, you reached for a rock of your own, gripping it tightly as you quickly decided to return the favor back to your future husband.

✾ | the stone connected with Lucien’s left cheek, and he screamed, staggering back. blood gushed down his face, a jagged cut marring his skin, the tip of it almost reaching his left eye.

✾ | the bird’s pained cries was the only sound that dared to break the uneasy silence that followed.

✾ | when your parents, and his, finally discovered the state the two of you were in, it was a truly a miracle in itself that the agreement continued, much to your overwhelming surprise.

✾ | you had no idea that it was Lucien himself who insisted on keeping the arrangement intact. you did not see the dark, almost hungry stare the boy directed at you as you gently picked up the silent bird.

✾ | years passed, seven to be exact, and the time has finally come for you to marry Lucien in a week’s time.

✾ | throughout the years, you’ve kept a close watch on him through your network of spies. and well, the reports have not been favorable, to say the least.

✾ | they say many things about him, but you grasp the essence of it quickly enough. how violence is etched into his very soul, how hatred always lingered on the tip of his tongue, how cruelty danced gleefully at the center of his heart.

✾ | the ugly scar on his face matched his equally ugly personality quite well, they say. and if you were a better man, you would have, perhaps, disagreed at such slander. but in the end, you only let a mirthful laugh escape your lips.

✾ | to be forever bound to such a person… you can’t even bear to imagine something so repulsive. there is no way you'll allow yourself to be married off to such a cruel, unpredictable man.

✾ | you seek to escape from this sham of an arrangement, but your parents refused to listen, and you don't think his will either. so in the end, running away seems like the best option available, and with what remains of your time, you plan.

✾ | there is much fanfare the day you and your family arrive in the neighboring kingdom, a day before the wedding. and while your family appears joyous at this, you feel the exact opposite.

✾ | when you finally set foot inside the palace, you find it amusing that his parents, with tired expressions, immediately inform you that the second prince cannot be found and that you will meet him at dinner instead.

✾ | you have an inkling of his whereabouts, thanks to the rumors you’ve heard countless times. at this hour, Lucien would most likely be in the brothels, sating his boredom to everyone's utter exhaustion and dismay.

✾ | but what you don’t understand are the strange rumors that he would always choose those who look most… like you. unsure of how to process this information, you’ve always chosen to ignore it.

✾ | as dinner time approaches, the table is set with dishes as lavish as you imagined, smoky meat, delicious gravy, and an array of mouthwatering sides.

✾ | a shame that you lost your appetite the moment you set eyes on the man that will become your future husband—a fate you’re determined to change, no matter what it takes.

✾ | although rumors depict your future husband as a scarred man, the scar you inflicted only accentuates his handsome features. it is infuriating, to say the least.

✾ | and though his appearance may have changed significantly, you have no doubt that he still harbors the same cruelty as the boy you met seven years ago.

✾ | and you stand corrected, as that night, he visits you in your chambers, shrouded in darkness, just as you were preparing to escape.

The first thing he says to you is your name.

"[Name]."

His voice is low, like the soft rumble of distant thunder, and you frown as your hands tighten around the bag full of your belongings—the very bag you were preparing to carry with you on your escape.

"Leaving so soon?" he continues when you make no sound to reply, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, and then another, until he stands right in front of you. "Without... me?"

He towers over you, easily.

You purse your lip, defiantly raising your chin as your mind scrambles for a way to escape him, to escape Lucien. "And why would you even care? We're practically strangers at best." And enemies at worst. For you have scarred each other, permanently marked the other with a wound that will never fade.

"Of course I care. We are to wed tomorrow. I will be yours, and you will be mine,” he says, the words settling between you like a promise, like a binding chain.

You scoff in disgust. "Wedding? Oh, please, this arrangement means nothing to us!" You stare into his eyes, blue as the deepest part of the midnight ocean. "You don't love me, Lucien, and I certainly don't love you."

Suddenly, his hand shoots out to grip onto yours, forcing you to release your bag. The strength of his grip hurts.

“You— Let go!” you shout, struggling against the pressure of his hold.

Lucien leans in, his breath eerily mingling with yours. This close, you can see the scar more clearly—an ugly, jagged line marring his otherwise unblemished, smooth skin.

“Do not put false words on my lips, [Name].” His tone carries the soft amusement of a gentle lover, yet there’s an unmistakable undertone—a dark compulsion, an obsession that lies right beneath the surface. “When have I ever said that I do not love you?”

Those words chill you to the core more than the coldest night winds ever could, settling into your bones with a penetrating dread that refuses to dissipate.

You can't believe what you're hearing. You can't believe his words. And so you say the only thing that comes to mind even though you know that it isn't true.

"You lie, Lucien."

He grips you tighter.

"You are a liar," you snarl, "and you are a fool if you think I would ever believe such a thing. Did you really think… those words would sway me? You think I haven't heard of your constant visits to those brothels?!"

Unexpectedly, his other hand moves to thread through your hair, soothing, but also unmistakably mocking, highlighted by the faux smile adorned on his face.

You allow it to happen, even though his every touch feels like a dangerous gamble. Because you know the man in front of you has grown to become the worst version of himself.

"I missed you. I could not have you, not yet anyway, so I sought what was available to me. I would not tarnish you, not until our wedding night," he says.

"Lies. Lies. Lies. Are you mocking me, Lucien? Are you? Just how naive do you think I am? Just how foolish? Such words do not soothe me. It is the exact opposite!"

You move, whispering into his ear. "Your very presence disgust me."

Suddenly, his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your faces closer as pain shoots through your scalp, causing your breath to hitch. "Making me angry will not change my mind, [Name]."

"I don't care how you fucking feel. I'm leaving!" you say as you push against him with your hand, demanding him to release you.

He does, but both his hands swiftly shift to your neck, tightening around it and choking you as you now struggle to breathe.

"You can't leave. Don't be stupid. There's no boat waiting for you outside these walls. No one out there will help you escape," he whispers slowly. "Not when they're all dead, that is."

Shit. How did he know that? You've always been careful with your plans, and this one has been the most careful yet. Has he been keeping tabs on you without you knowing?

"It’s not fair, [Name]. I’ve waited a long time for you. I’ve been patient, have I not? I haven’t taken you away from your kingdom because of this patience. I’ve endured your cruel jeers because of this patience.”

He slams you onto the bed, his hand still painfully stealing your breath away. You claw at his grip, panic consuming your mind, but Lucien remains indifferent to your struggle, his expression cold and unyielding as he watches your desperate attempts to break free.

“I’ve been patient, because when we finally wed—and oh we will—you will be entirely mine.”

You don’t understand his persistence. Why is he so fixated on this? He can’t possibly want to marry you—he just can’t.

With all the strength you can muster, you punch him squarely in the face, hitting the scar you left him with years ago. He groans and releases you.

You sit up, clutching your throat as you struggle to speak. “Are you insane? You tried to kill me years ago! Why would I want to marry you, you lunatic?”

He lunges at you.

All of it is a blur of pain and punches, but the outcome is clear in the end—you’ve lost. Now, he looms over you on the bed, his fingers jammed painfully down your throat, silencing any further protests.

When you move to bite his fingers, he thrusts them deeper, choking you and cutting off your airflow once again.

"Don’t say such mean things to me, [Name]. I don’t like hearing them. And I’m certain you wouldn’t like it either if you were in my position.”

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you kick and punch desperately, struggling against his unyielding grip.

Lucien suddenly shifts his position, his expression darkening with a predatory focus.

Then— he sinks his teeth into your throat with a savage intensity. Blood wells up and spills over, warm and sticky against your skin. You scream at the sensation.

He licks the crimson liquid with a slow, deliberate motion, savoring the taste of you.

"This is where you belong, [Name]. Beneath me, and all, all mine—only mine. You were promised to me and I will not let anything get in the way of that."

The pleasure in his eyes is twisted, and then his teeth press deeper, the pain more insistent, sending shivers through your body.

He pulls back momentarily, his tongue tracing the bloody trail he has left.

As he licks the wound clean, a shocking realization flickers across his face. A laugh escapes him, first soft and incredulous, then growing louder and louder, mocking you.

Lucien grins.

“Well, would you look at that? You’re hard too,” he says, his tone fond. "I knew it. I always knew you were the one."

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your bloodied skin. You try to reply, but only a groan escapes as his finger still presses deeply into your throat.

"It’s a shame, but we should save that for tomorrow, beloved. Our true kiss should also be for then." He licks your neck again, and you shiver. "I’ve been patient for long. I can wait another day.”

And finally— he lets go.

You cough, stifling the urge to vomit as he slowly backs away from you in unhinged glee. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, oh future husband of mine.”

( It’s fine that you do not love him; he has made peace with that. Lucien knows that he can love enough for the both of you. )

As he finally leaves your room, an eerie silence fills your mind. Your body is wracked with chills, and sweat runs down your back as you close your eyes.

One thing is certain: You need a new plan, and fast.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ( y! dragon x m! human reader )

yandere! dragon x male! human reader

warnings:

nsfw

throne sex

overstimulation

the dragon has two pp's and a long tongue

i think my tumblr looks a little like a desert rn since I haven't posted anything in a while, so take this old smut oneshot of mine that I posted months ago in watt and q. for like context: it's from a fic of mine called mythical devotion, but the really important fact is that the dragon's name is Idris and the mc, you, are the current ruler/king hehe.

Frankly, you still find yourself questioning how it is that you've led yourself into this situation.

The empty throne room is filled only by the audible sound of your breath. Idris towers over you as you remain seated on the throne, his claws tight around your skin, digging securely into your arms like a vice.

Suppressing a grimace, you lift your chin, meeting the dragon's gaze. "What is the meaning of this, Idris?"

There is an almost single-minded intensity from how Idris is watching you, and you gulp as you receive no answer from the other, unsettled by the rare silence.

"Idris…?" you murmur his name, a furrow of concern creasing your brow before it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

A startled gasp escapes your lips as Idris suddenly makes himself at home, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he whispers,

"[Name]."

Idris’s voice is pitched lower than usual, like fire trailing down your skin. You can’t stop the instinctive shiver that runs through your body at the sound of it. You attempt to move, but Idris’s grasp on you remains unyielding.

A deep inhale reaches your ears, and you frown, holding your breath. Is Idris... inhaling your scent? You can't even begin to understand why.

You've been sitting all day on the throne, addressing endless requests and grappling with the council's demands. There is nothing there for the dragon to smell except for your sweat.

You shift again, but you are caught off guard by what happens next. Idris emits a low groan into your ear before the sharp sting of fangs sinks into your neck. "Ah—!"

Blood trickles down.

A searing tongue laps up each bead of blood, sending a fiery tremor down your spine with each wet lick of his tongue. A fleeting smile brushes against the juncture of your shoulder and neck.

"You've been so consumed in your duties, Your Majesty. Not even a moment spared for your adoring beloved. How very, very rude, my sweet little darling. Discourteous, even."

Heat brushes against your cheek as you become aware of the rigid, hard presence pressing against your thigh. Oh, this is...

Your mind scrambles for purchase, desperately seeking an escape from Idris’s unexpected fervor. You have to find a way out of here.

Certainly, you had brushed aside Idris's presence most of the time he visited you in the throne room, but still. "I was— Of course I was busy. I have a kingdom to manage and rule over, I can't just—"

Idris tuts you to silence, his lips gently nibbling at your ear. "Wrong answer."

Idris climbs onto the throne, wedging a leg between yours and pushing you further back into the velvet seat.

There is the promise of being devoured whole in those dilated golden eyes. As you bare your throat to Idris, you can't ignore the unmistakable pool of desire reflected in the dragon’s gaze, crowding you entirely, palpable and consuming.

"You have the freedom to walk away at any moment, [Name]. But I doubt you would, prideful thing you are," Idris remarks, his finger trailing down your cheek before tilting your chin upward, bringing your face closer to his.

It's dizzying, disorienting, and when it all subsides, you see it.

Despite Idris looming over you, it feels as though the dragon himself is the one on his knees, pure awe etched on his features, a reverent finger caressing the contours of your cheek. What does Idris see in you, you wonder.

Sometimes, you still cannot comprehend Idris’s mind. How is it that the dragon holds such devotion for your entire being? There is always love—an overwhelming love—that threatens to engulf you whole.

Idris has yet to resume any of his firm touches, but at the same time, he does not move away, a maddening smirk playing upon his lips.

A surge of annoyance courses through you at the sight. Without hesitation, you shake off Idris's grasp—something akin to triumph crosses Idris's face—and pull the annoying dragon down by the neck, crashing your lips together.

You are the one who started the kiss, but Idris is the one who controls it.

The pace is slow at first, your head tilted up to accommodate the embrace, but soon Idris’s long tongue delves deeper, coaxing your head to the side as if to consume you. Your muffled whimpers are drowned out by Idris’s groans, and your shaky hands desperately clutch at his frame.

It isn’t until you are nearly out of breath that Idris allows your lips to part. Desire curls low in your stomach.

"Don't lose your breath so early now, [Name]," Idris tells you, a smile on his face. "We've barely just begun, hm?"

You glare in reply, gripping tightly onto his shoulder. "And whose fault is that, dragon?" you question back, words barely audible from how out of breath you are.

Idris chuckles sharply in reply before, strangely enough, moving away from you.

"Idris, you— What exactly are you—" Your words falter easily as Idris kneels and tugs both your pants and underwear down before casting them aside. A sharp pang of shame ignites as your arousal springs forth, hard and slick already.

"Oh, [Name]," Idris begins, voice laden with want, "you're always so eager for me, aren't you?"

"Move," you stammer, eyes roaming across the room, "Not here, Idris. This place is—"

Idris’s body abruptly shoots up, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to meet the gaze of his golden eyes and nothing else. "There's no one here, Your Majesty. Just you and me."

Those golden eyes remain fixed on you, capturing every nuance of your expression. You shut your eyes in shame, trying to evade the piercing scrutiny as best you can.

"That won't do," Idris chides gently, "I need you to look at me, [Name]."

You stubbornly keep your eyes closed, denying the request, and Idris hums, releasing his hold to go back down and—

"Ah—!"

A firm hand closes around your erection, and your hips instinctively buck. However, Idris’s unoccupied hand swiftly pins you down, and you moan, loudly, your body twitching at the dragon's casual display of strength.

"Still refusing to look, even now?" Idris whispers, his breath teasing your arousal, and you bite down on your lips, stifling another moan. "This is unfair, you know? I've been patiently waiting for you all day." The hand on your cock twists and tightens, and you use all your strength to swallow down the scream of a whimper that threatens to escape.

"Open your eyes for me, [Name]. Please." Idris's plea is soft, a stark contrast to the dragon's unrelentingly pressing body, his every touch branding you as his.

Swallowing a hiss, you try to sort out your words and force your mouth open in an attempt at protest, but your words die in your throat as Idris adjusts his grip. He places a hand on your shaking thigh, pulls, and hoists your leg over his shoulder, baring everything.

You finally open your eyes, see the cruel smirk on the dragon's lips. "N-no. This position—"

"Look at you. Still so pretty, even here," Idris murmurs softly, golden eyes trailing between your legs, almost spellbound. "I've always wanted to taste more than your lips."

Humiliation courses through you as you try to shield your twitching hole with your other leg, preserving whatever modesty it is you have left, but with a speed that you've rarely seen in the dragon, Idris's other hand swiftly seizes your leg and pins it down firmly.

"Don't hide away," Idris whispers, his tone sweet like saccharine, a wicked smile on his lips before the dragon maneuvers your leg even higher, eliciting a whimper from your throat. "You'll enjoy this, dear. Trust me," Idris says sweetly as he moves and licks his tongue into your hole.

Your entire body spasms, your leg instinctively clamping down on Idris’s shoulder as the persistent probing of his long tongue inside you sends waves and waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, a never-ending sensation shooting up your spine.

"Ah, ah, Idris—!"

Idris hums inside you, and tremors rack your frame, the vibrations shaking you to the core. Your hands scramble helplessly on the armrests of your throne.

"Idris— Idris, please—"

You whine, tears welling in your eyes as sobs escape your bitten lips.

You try to stifle the moans rising, crawling, from your throat but you can't. Idris denies you of it, immobilizing both your hands with his tail as the dragon's tongue slithers impossibly deep. "Stop, I can't— Idris, Idris, no—"

In response, his tongue curls inside of you, deftly spreading your walls, searching for that bundle of sensitive nerves that'll send you spasming and spiraling into ecstasy.

Idris finds it, easily, and with dark lustful eyes staring right at you, the cruel dragon presses his tongue unrelentingly against your prostate.

You tense, your body arching, jaw slack as your eyes roll back into your head. With a loud sob, you shatter, cum splattering on your royal attire, your body going limp as you gulp for air like a drowning man, eyes struggling to focus under the haze of pleasure, senses reeling in the aftermath of it all.

"Who am I to ever deny you, my dearest love," Idris breathes out, withdrawing his tongue and replacing it with two slender figures. Alarm bells flicker within you.

You suck in a sharp breath.

"Haven't you— had enough yet...?" you ask, voice barely audible. Idris gives you an amused huff, taking out his fingers as the dragon removes his pants, revealing his hard, leaking erections.

"There's still a long night ahead, hm?" is the answer you receive before he manhandles you to a different position. Your back is pressed firmly against the throne, your hands still bound by the dragon's tail as Idris's hands grip open your thighs.

A lovely blush sits high on your face as Idris leans toward you, his lips brushing against yours. "Don't scream too loudly, [Name]." Idris draws his cocks to slide between your ass, teasing gently against your perineum. "All right?"

"Ngh—"

Idris smiles, radiant eyes crinkling at the corners as he guides his cocks to where you are waiting, open and eager.

Your mouth falls agape as Idris enters you, a rush of delirium washing over you as you watch the dragon's cocks disappearing into you, inch by inch, until Idris reaches the deepest part of you, bottoming out with a groan.

It helps that this isn't your first time together with the dragon, but the sensation of fullness still overwhelms you. Coupled with the searing stretch, you can't suppress the loud, keening, almost broken moan that rips itself from your throat.

"You're so big," you mumble, filter completely abandoned in the throes of ecstasy. Clenching around Idris's cocks, you savor the heady feeling of being filled to the brim. When you look down, the sight of your stomach swelling from being filled to the brim doesn’t surprise you one bit. But what Idris does next does.

The dragon presses a hand down on your stomach, and your eyes cross from the pure pleasure you feel. "So so full—oh!—of you. Ah! ah—"

"That filthy little mouth of yours," Idris growls, voice husky with desire, and you choke out on a wail as Idris withdraws completely before plunging back into you with a single, powerful thrust.

"Idris, Idris. Hhh— Ah, Idris—!"

"Ah, I do adore it when my name is the only thing on your lips," Idris exhales sharply, each word punctuated by the relentless rhythm of his hips.

Tears well at the corners of your eyes, your mouth forming a silent plea with each exhale. You feel more exposed and vulnerable than ever before, reduced to a broken, shattered, needy mess of a man. The image of yourself in his mind—panting and debauched—sends a surge of arousal straight to your cock.

"You are so utterly exquisite," Idris murmurs, moving to sharply bite down on your neck once again.

"Idris," you moan in warning, the need to cum again is unbearable, and you shudder in your need, a whine trapped in your chest.

"What is it, my love?" Idris groans mid-sentence, and glances at you through the strands of white hair falling over his forehead. There's hunger burning inside the dragon's eyes, an adrenaline-fueled smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm going to— Again. I—"

But before you can finish, Idris spreads your legs wider, teasingly denying your release. "Not yet," Idris answers before slamming back inside, hitting an angle that sends you reeling, legs trembling all over.

A hoarse gasp escapes your throat as you writhe beneath Idris's every touch, your breath shallow, your mouth dry. You can't hold on much longer, not when Idris is pushing you relentlessly toward the edge just to wring you dry in the end. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably with each thrust, and you're sure you can hear yourself sobbing, voice raw and fractured. Tears blur your vision, and you struggle to even draw oxygen into your lungs.

"Don't pass out on me, [Name]," Idris's voice cuts through the haze.

"I.. I..." Your voice is punched out by another particular sharp thrust, and then you're gone, lost in a whirlwind of sensation. "Idris. I have to— Please, please–ah!—please I can't—" you sob to him, pleading, frantic.

Idris's smile widens as he shifts forward and slowly captures your lips in a soft kiss. "Good boy. Do as you please." Then plunges himself back in, muffling your scream with his mouth as he sets back to a punishing, relentless rhythm.

You mewl as you come undone once again to another climax, body wracked with oversensitivity as Idris continues, showing no mercy. Drool pools in your mouth, dripping from your open lips down to your chin. With a gasping breath, you realize your hands are no longer bound, and you wrap them around Idris's neck like it was always meant to be there.

Idris nails your prostate with a final, forceful thrust, eliciting a spurt of warmth that floods inside you completely, causing you to shake apart once more, toes curling as you keen loudly into his ear.

You've become a disheveled mess of gasping breaths and fractured moans, unable to do anything but whine as Idris shifts you into a new position. Now seated on Idris's lap, your body still impaled on Idris's cocks, you feel the dragon gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I should inform your dear council you'll be terribly indisposed tomorrow. I highly doubt you'd be able to walk after all this."

Tomorrow...? Right, there's more work to be done tomorrow, you can't do that, you can't neglect your duties as ruler. With your mind still reeling, albeit a bit blank, you shake your head in response.

"No?" Idris slams up inside you and you hiccup through the mind-shattering thrusts, barely able to focus and listen as Idris continues, "Well then, I suppose I'll have to exert myself a little more to make that a reality."

In response, you clench around him with a soft moan, blissful through your misty, tear-filled eyes.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ( y! emperor x m! assassin reader )

yandere! emperor x male! assassin reader

warnings:

attempted murder

attempted poisoning

mentions of torture

some dubcon tumble & kissing in the sheets ey

directory: part one, part two [ coming soon ]

this definitely could've gone to a much, much darker route but instead it turned out kind of cute(?). i once had a similar idea to this one but as like a longer fic but i don't have the time for that so eat this instead y'all 🌈🌈

requested by @n4muqr

✾ | much is unknown of the current reigning emperor, dimitri, and what little is known about him is all rather rudimentary, really—merely the common knowledge shared and repeated by most already.

✾ | for instance, it is often said by the masses that dimitri is akin to a sleeping lion. a calm and quiet presence... until a single misstep is made in his presence, prompting his unbridled fury. the emperor does not merely desire perfection, he demands it with an almost relentless, crazed fervor. the emperor will not— cannot simply stand by when something in his vicinity does not reach that impeccable state.

✾ | another topic, oftenly brought up, is his cruelty. the amount of enemies dimitri has amassed on his path to the throne is not few, and those who remain are, well, tortured and tormented inside the cold dungeons for as long as they draw breath.

✾ | but none of those rumors are the ones that pique your interest in the emperor. no. what fascinates you about dimitri is the fact that he has yet to marry, and has remained so for several years of his reign, much to the utter bewilderment of his own people and his own court.

✾ | and the reason for it is so ridiculous that, the first time you heard it, you nearly topple over from laughter. the emperor is unmarried not because he is unattractive or ugly—the opposite really, if the rumors are to be believed—but because he deems that there is no one perfect enough yet to stand by his side. ridiculous, really. but what is an emperor if he is not arrogant?

✾ | still, the fact that there is no direct heir to the throne due to this is utterly hilarious to you. even more comical is the moment when, one day, you are given the task to assassinate said emperor.

✾ | you hold no loyalty for powerful men like dimitri, especially when they are reputed to be arrogant fools. and yet, curiosity stirs within you as to who issued such an order, for you are certain that you are not the only one sent to assassinate dimitri. his little brother perhaps? he is, after all, next in line to the throne.

✾ | a day after you receive the task, you simply... wait, and you remain waiting even as news of failed assassination attempts after another reaches your ears. not one assassin has succeeded, and it baffles you, really; it is either due to the emperor's extreme luck or, perhaps, his perfectionism has extended to other aspects of his life—namely, the protection that surrounds him.

✾ | so, you plan. disguising one's self to infiltrate the palace would take too long, and the likelihood of success is slim, especially given dimitri’s vigilant eye monitoring everyone’s movements. in the end, only one course of action comes to mind.

✾ | in the dead of night, you silently scale the towering walls of the palace—walls too high for most, surely, but easily surmountable for someone like you. with a mask covering the lower half of your face and more daggers than one should be permitted to carry, you ascend with ease.

✾ | landing on the balcony with barely a sound, you smile as you successfully arrive at the chambers of the arrogant emperor dimitri.

✾ | lock picking the door inside is awfully easy, and as you step into the bedroom that is almost suffocating with its golden splendor, you finally see him. you see the emperor.

✾ | dimitri is in bed, unguarded, with eyes closed and lips parted, so breathtaking to behold that, for a moment, you forget you are here to kill him, to murder him.

✾ | as you edge closer to his still body, you observe the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each soft breath. how his golden eyelashes flutter as the cold night air sweeps in from the open balcony window. it seems almost a waste to kill such beauty.

✾ | and just as you brandish your cold dagger to his neck, your other hand ready to silence his dying cries, dimitri's eyes shoot wide open, an icy gaze staring directly into you.

✾ | despite only just waking, the emperor is fast, sharp and alert, and in a blink, dimitri has already swiftly caught both your wrists with his hands in a vice-like grip, rendering you motionless as you both stare into each other’s eyes in tense silence.

"You shouldn’t be up at such an hour, Your Majesty,” you slowly quip with narrowed eyes, breaking the silence between you as you struggle to free your hands from Dimitri’s grip. Your efforts are futile; his hold on you tightens further.

No doubt, that bruises will soon bloom like dark flowers on your skin, assuming, that is, Dimitri ever lets go of his grip.

With an almost empty sharpness in his gaze, Dimitri inches his face closer to yours, his expression thin as he responds, “And you, should not wander as you wish in your emperor’s chambers. Wherever did you learn your manners, stranger?”

"Well, certainly not around here, Your Majesty.” You let out a sharp laugh before kneeing him in the stomach. But, to your surprise, you flinch instead of the emperor. It feels as though... you just kneed a solid rock.

At your failed attempt, Dimitri merely raises a brow and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “I must admit, this is a first. No assassin thus far has attempted to climb my palace walls only to knee me in the stomach. I must say, you do make a memorable first impression.”

"I'm flattered, Your Majesty," you say with a faux smile as you continue to struggle against his grip. Another sigh escapes the Emperor's lips.

Suddenly, perhaps finally finding himself tired of your antics, Dimitri pulls you towards him with a firm grip, effortlessly throwing you onto his bed, pinning you under him with only a hand as though you weigh nothing.

Well now, this is bad.

Dimitri hovers above you, his warm breath caressing your neck, his gaze piercing you with a cold, steely silence. Then— he rips off your mask, revealing your complete face, twisted with frustration; Dimitri's eyes seem to gleam as he notices it.

"Must you really rip it off?"

"It obscured my view of your face, oh assassin. Your mask was a hindrance to us both," he answers, voice as smooth as velvet. With his free hand, and an empty gaze that all but screams danger, Dimitri’s fingertips softly caress your face before slowly, but surely, descending to your neck. You gulp.

Before he can act in a way you do not desire—specifically, choking you lifeless beneath him—you lean forward, rising to press your lips against his in desperation.

Not for his mercy, no—heavens, no. Your lips are coated in poison, a venom strong enough to probably lull a lion into instant slumber, and soon, will render Dimitri paralyzed as well.

Unsurprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly—because you’ve seen it, seen the hint of desire brimming inside his eyes, a flicker that escapes the mask the Emperor puts on—Dimitri kisses you back. And if your swift brush of lips could ever be labeled as a kiss, then what Dimitri unleashed upon you could only be deemed a ravage.

He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, savoring and exploring your mouth as one might indulge in a delectable, forbidden fruit. Despite your efforts, you find yourself drawn into his passion, grappling beneath him as he intensifies the kiss with each passing moment, as though melding your bodies together.

There is no room to breathe, and your head reels from the lack of air.

A bruising grip is placed on your waist as Dimitri somehow deepens the kiss further, his tongue exploring every inch of you, and as you attempt to pull away, he presses forward, biting your lip almost as a form of punishment.

A low whine escapes your throat, seemingly satisfying Dimitri as he hums softly into your mouth. Then, finally, ever so finally, he ends the kiss, leaving you gasping for air.

Tears well in your eyes as you gaze up at him, a half-smirk playing on his lips while he hovers above you, still gripping both your wrists firmly in his single hand, still unaffected by the poison after how much time has passed. How... is this be possible? Is Dimitri perhaps immune to such poison?

As realization washes over you, the half-smirk on Dimitri’s face transforms into a full one. "The poison on your lips is sweet, oh assassin," he whispers, "but in my opinion, the kiss is far, far sweeter."

"You...!"

As you prepare to kick the Emperor in his groin out of extreme frustration, he releases his grip on you, rising from the bed before straightening his attire. "You have passed, my assassin. And henceforth, you will serve me, and me alone," he announces, voice ringing clear inside your head.

You blink, letting his words sink in before narrowing your eyes at Dimitri, who is now sitting languidly on one of his many comfortable chairs in the room. “Just what are you talking about?” His words make little sense, and you feel an undying urge to hurl the nearest object right at his face.

"Who do you think orchestrated the countless assassinations on my dear self, oh assassin of mine? I seek only the finest, and while I knew no one could truly ever succeed in killing me, thus far, your attempt has been the closest."

You push yourself off the bed, striding towards him with your fists clenched. "This is all beyond ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many of us were tasked to end your life?"

"I do."

You cross your arms with a sigh. "So, what now? Is my task over?" The room is far too cold now after you have tasted the warmth that is your Emperor, and your job is clearly over, now that you have, somehow, been forcefully given a new one instead.

Dimitri responds, "You are to be my assassin. I will point the way, and you will obediently follow, with no questions asked. To kill whomever I send you to kill, to dispose of their bodies with no witnesses in sight, and to return to me when I have need of you. Is that clear?"

You roll your eyes at his arrogant tone but then nod obligingly upon seeing the slightest hint of anger in his expression. "Yes, yes. Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty? If not, I will be taking my leave now."

"Remain still,” he commands, and a distant part of you screams in frustration as your body effortlessly complies. He approaches you slowly, offering a small smile before placing your mask back over your face.

"When we are alone, just the two of us, I expect you to address me by my given name, my assassin.” He pauses then, lifting your chin with a finger. You tense.

"And...?" you ask back, your voice shaky.

The Emperor’s gaze flickers towards your lips, concealed beneath the mask, as he issues his last command. “That last method of yours. I forbid you from employing it on anyone else,” he muses, tightening his grip on your chin, almost painfully so.

“Your lips are reserved solely for mine.”