#INSERT YANDERE SQUEALING HERE

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 700+, 900+, 860+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Doflamingo, Caesar, Rosinante "Corazon".

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, yandere, obsession, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, not going to lie. You can sense my favoritism with my word count. First time writing for Caesar Clown. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Legs caging his head beneath you, you drew up your forearm to shield your eyes as the other reached down and braced your trembling hands against his chest. Grinding on his face, his smile grows wider the louder your cries of bliss fall from your lips. 

“I'm gonna-... Mmmgh-... I'm gonna cum again,” you sob, desperately writhing on top of his face in shame. He hooked his large arm over your thigh and braced your lower back over his mouth and held you firmly as he more desperately licked through your body. 

Huffing and panting, he continues driving his tongue between your wet folds and mouthing at your clit. Feeling your whole body tremble above him, he drew his unoccupied hand down to tug at his cock, giving you a show from your position looking down at him. 

His eyes grew black with lust as he watched the involuntary quake of your ass over his face, your voice mewling his name for the fourth time as he chased another desperate spasm of your walls clenching down and contracting in his mouth. 

“Plap, plap, plap.” His tongue greedily bullied your needy cunt, coating his lips, nose and chin in a slicked elixir of your nectar over his face as you desperately sobbed for him. Relentlessly chasing that high of watching you use his body to achieve ecstasy above him, he growled into your body, the vibrations within his mouth causing you to shriek. 

Latching onto your clit, he rolled his flattened tongue over the sensitive bud before mouthing at it in open and desperate kisses. Lapping at your juices, he felt his cock twitch in his hand from pistoning his shaft, squeezing his nob and thumbing over the pearlescent drop of his precum. 

“Can I cum? Can I cum?” you whined for him, gripping his chest and tensing your body above him to halt your eruption from over-encumbering your body in heated bliss, “Please? I'll be good. I'll be so good if you let me cum again?” He growled again into your body, moving both of his hands under your thighs and pinned you to his face by interlacing his fingers. 

As he felt your high approaching, he frantically nodded to give you permission to use his face to usher in the lightning sparks of pleasure over your body. You cried his name, dousing his face in a gush of sickened ecstasy as he hummed up into you. 

“I-I’m cumming,” you mewled, eyes rolling back and grinding down on his face. “I’m c-cumming.” You hummed your praises down at him as you stuttered over his name and sobbed your gratitude. 

Eyes rolling back into his head, he shot rope after rope of cum spattering up onto his torso as you squealed in joy at the display. 

“O-Oh, so much,” you whined down at him, body hands now pressed onto his chest as he slowed down his momentum rolling his tongue over you. “You came so much!” You exclaimed with a soft giggle. He hummed beneath you, softly kissing in open mouthed presses, romancing your pussy with his passionate oscillations. 

He whined against your lips, groaning into you as the aftershocks rush over him in wave after wave of chaotic lightning. Holding you firmly to him, he continued rolling his tongue between your folds like it was the only thing tethering himself to the earth. 

He savored the feeling of your body trapping him with your heat, the way you tasted cumming on his face and drowning him in your ecstasy, as he bucked up with each twitch of his cock spurting his untouched ropes over his stomach and chest.

“Mmm,” he hums into you, flicking his tongue over both his and your lips as he comes down from his high, immediately shocked to see nothing above him in his bed when he opens his eyes. He springs up in his bed, looking around the room for you but finding nothing in his room aside from his personal effects. 

Eyes wide and frantic, he scrambles in his bed and grabs at the bedsheets. Elevating his duvet and glancing down at his bare body, and grimacing at the sticky cum attaching his bedsheets to his quivering cock. 

Doflamingo

“Untouched?” He glared in betrayal at his twitching cock dancing proudly as it deflated, “Untouched?!” He circled his fist over his shaft and choked it within a firm grasp. Beginning to piston his oversensitive cock, he growled at himself. 

“You-...” he pictured the way your pretty little whimpers called his name, beckoning him closer to bliss with each pump of his cock, “...-You little tease.” 

His motions both picked up over his cock, his fist punching his pelvis and balls sucked into his abdomen, as he desperately chased his own release while frantically repicturing consuming yours. He pictured you whimpering above him, your legs shaking like a butterfly loosening the dew from its wings in the morning. 

His eyes rolled black as he continued pumping his shaft, picturing you above him as he did in his dreams before looking to his Den-Den mushi beside him. The sleeping snail snored gently beside his clock, prompting him to grimace at the time depicted beside it. 

“If I'm up and thinking of you,” he growled, reaching his unoccupied hand up to the shell and dialing your personal transponder code, “I'm gonna make you think of me.” As the chatter from the snail awoke, your sleepy tone called over to him from the mouth of the snail. 

“G-... Good morning, sir?” you mumbled to him, the subtle shift of your bed linens rustling caused Doflamingo to roll his hips to the sound, “Why are you calling me at…” you paused to yawn, Doflamingo picturing that cute little squeak you make as you reach the perfect stretch to rid yourself of sleep, “...Three in the morning?”

“Thinking of you,” Doflamingo purred sultrily into the snail's mouthpiece, “Dreaming of you.” You groaned at him, the rustling of the transponder informed him you were moving in your bed. 

“Okay, lord Doflamingo,” you murmured lazily into the mouthpiece, “Got a mission for me? Is that it? Dreaming of me fulfilling some brutal task for you well into the night?” He pictured you sitting up and waiting for him to give you orders, mouth watering as he pictured how eager you'd be to make his vision come alive. 

As the silence hung in the air between you, you offered him one final prompt to offer you a semblance of explanation. 

“Please, sir. Tell me how I can make your dreams come true?” you asked him boredly and sarcastically, “I’ve only just got back from the last mission, carried it out successfully if you were wondering.” He grinned and rolled onto his side and glared into the mouth of the snail.

“You're always so fucking good to me,” Doflamingo praised you, flicking his tongue across his lips, “You'd follow my orders until the day you die, won't you? My dark angel. My deadly assassin. My little muse.”

After a moment of silence, you offer him a disgruntled growl and he pictured you glaring at him through the snail, “What do you need me to do, sir? Can it wait?” He laughed his deep rumble into the mouthpiece before rolling onto his back. 

“You know what you can do, pretty thing?” he purred with a deep rumble into the speaker, “You can listen to me touch myself while I think about you sitting on my face.” His nonchalant attitude had silence falling from your end, prompting him to reconfirm his directions. 

“You hear me, pet?” he snickered at the snail, grasping and tugging at his cock while a sickening smirk split his face in a sinister grin, “Answer me when I give you orders.” A low growl emitted from the other end of the receiver. 

“I am not a concubine, sir,” you snarled your disdain for him into the receiver, prompting him to piston his cock harder in his fist, “Don't treat me like some whore in the night-.”

“-If you were a whore, I'd simply summon you here and ravage your tight little cunt with my cock until I hear you scream my name,” Doflamingo growled into the Den-Den, “Call what I'm asking you to do ‘a kindness’.” He sweetened his tone, purring and cooing at you as if his request was the simplest orders you could ever receive, “All I want you to do is listen to me fuck my fist while I picture you rolling your hips over my mouth.”

After a momentary silence and a sharp exhale of agitation, you growled back at him. 

“If I was rolling my hips over your mouth, you'd be silent and do as you're told,” your blunt response had Doflamingo involuntarily buck into his hand, gasping like a stallion at their first taste of a broodmare. 

“Oh, would I now?” he whispered in a husky tone, thumbing over his nob and groaning at the feeling, “What would I be told to do, mi amorcito? Tell me.” There was another pause of silence between you, Doflamingo waiting patiently to hear how you’d respond to his little taunt. 

“You really want to do this, Doflamingo?” Your harsh chastising broke him away from his harsh momentum of thrusting into his hand and had him stare at the receiver. He hissed out a soft “Yes,” in response, prompting your smirking laugh to rise from the mouthpiece. 

“Then invite me to your suite,” you suggested nonchalantly, “I'd be happy to bully you in person,” you paused, whispering into the receiver with a soft purr, “If you can take it.”

“Oh, I can take it.”

Caesar 

“Wha-...?!” he exclaims in shock, witnessing his cock twitch in betrayal. He sits in silence, staring down at himself in horror. Running his cool digits over the display of lust spurted on his skin and rolled it between his fingers with a grimace. 

“I didn’t-...” his sentence falls short as he looked around his cold room, his lips falling into a soft pout, “...You didn’t even fuck me in my dreams?” His pout deepened, his pointed nose sniffing back a soft sob. 

Rolling out of his bed, he stood tall and winced as he felt glubs of his spend roll down his torso and drop onto the floor. He downturned his smile, sweat pooling at his temple as he walked over to his desk and found a discarded lab coat. Rolling the material over his stomach, he tidied up his mess and sniffed a soft sob back.

“Even in my dreams, you elude me. You run from me,” he looks to a folded manila folder on his desk, opening the crease and looking at your file. The firm words beside your name printed in bold, his blood running cold at the sight. 

With the face of an angel, the softest smile painted on your canceled bounty, he ran his fingers over your printed skin and creased his brows into the center of his head. 

“Doflamingo’s favorite assassin,” he murmured, discarding the lab coat and sitting naked at his desk, “His pretty little pet,” his thumb brushed over your smile on the paper before drawing his palm over the page, “Someone that will never be mine, even if I beg.” 

He whimpered as he stared down at the page, his unoccupied hand circled his cock and squeezed it in his fist. Giving it a testing tug, he sifted through his collection of den-den images of you in the manilla folder. 

Sucking his bottom lip into his teeth, he began to piston his shaft with his firm grip as he focussed on your picture. Your face held such an innocence for someone so deadly: standing beside Doflamingo at a gala, gazing up into the face of Sir Crocodile with a light smile. So pretty, so charming.

So out of his league, you wouldn’t spare him a single glance. 

He began to tug at himself harder, rolling his hips up into his hand as he stumbled upon his favorite three pictures. All so different and holding him hostage to how he could picture your face contorting in pleasure as he chased his high in his hand. 

The first was a simple image he had managed to snap as you sat across him at the table: in your simple Donquixote assigned uniform as you paid attention to every word relayed from Doflamingo. You had an air of confidence, your chin angled high and a soft purse of your lips.

“Hhah-...” he whined through his pants, feeling himself come closer to the edge as he pictured what it could be like to kiss those lips and feel your face against his. Shaking his head, he moved onto the second image in his collection.

The vengeance and wrath written on your face as it was covered in violent bloodlust, your weapon in your hand and standing victorious after landing your final blow. You looked like you would’ve ripped your enemies’ throat out with your teeth to win that fight, and he wanted to be the target of that feral gaze so desperately. 

“Nnnghh-...” he whimpered, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls sucking up into his stomach as he continued to stare down at his collection of pictures of you. His jaw fell slack, him finally finding the last picture of you: one he was sure you thought was destroyed for good. 

The picture was soft, well loved from the firm grip Caesar would hold it in regularly, peeling up at the corners and creased. Your face was flushed, your eyes wide and looking up with an almost adoring innocence, your hair pinned out of your face and dressed in an outfit intended for flamenco. 

Your skin was revealed in a lusting dip, the pink of the material dipping over your chest in a deep 'V' and cinching in the small of your waist and flaring at the hips. The amount of flesh revealed beneath the material held such contrast to the innocence of your eyes. 

“F-F-F-...” he huffed, sucking on his bottom lip and feeling himself spill over into his hand, spurting ropes of hot, sticky cum against the underside of his desk, “...Fuck.” He rocked his hips in time to the spurts, feeling his eyes begin to prick with the similar sting of tears each time he tainted your image in this way. 

Hot rolls of his glassy tears spilled from his eyes and trickled down his cheeks into his quivering lips. Sobs escaped his mouth, sniffing back the heavier cries as he placed your image back into the manila folder and shut the crease closed. He placed his head over the cardboard exterior and his shoulders began to shake with sorrow. 

“No wonder you don’t like me,” he muffled between his whimpered sobs, “I’m fucking pathetic.” 

Rosinante “Corazon”

He sprung up from his bed and immediately stomped over to his bathroom with shock written on his face. He ran the shower, remaining unblinking and appalled at himself as he stepped beneath the pelting water. 

“Silence,” he whispered, clicking his fingers beneath the water and creating a rotund, soundproof barrier within the small cubicle and immediately balling his fist and slamming it against the damp ceramic. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled at himself, clenching his eyes shut and haunted by the image of your body using his face to grind and shake on his tongue, “C’mon, Rosinante. You’re a marine, you’re a spy, you’re a double agent, you’re the son of a celestial dragon, you’re-... you’re-...” he looked down at his cock, his shame washing away with the hot water and pooling at his feet before swirling in the drain.

“...-You’re in love?” he tilts his chin to the side as his heart hammers heavy within his chest, “In love with an assassin sworn to kill the likes of you without a second thought.” He huffs, lifting his head in the air and allowing the scorching liquid to hammer at his face. Shaking his hair, the drops cling to his golden locks and coat his forehead and eyes with the damp curls. 

He brings up his hands and cards them through his hair, staring up at the circular shower head and pouting. The drops do nothing to stifle the smoldering embers in his heart, the image behind his eyes are only of you and your smile. 

Drawing his mind back to your encounters of the past, he was touched that you had learnt to sign with your hands to speak and translate for him at meetings to save time and paper. Those signs he loved seeing you flutter at him to entertain him at social galas, the humor of your risque commentary you give him with simple gestures of your hands with a completely straight face. 

Your kindness in such a dark place had been refreshing, especially considering your title of Doflamingo’s favorite assassin led him to assume you were just as horrible as his brother was. He viewed your smile as a gift, your offer of a dance as a blessing, and the protection of your constant rapid dexterity to manage Doflamingo’s temper, and maintain your standing effortlessly, had him immediately targeting you for unintentional aid in his private cause. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, hanging his head and shifting the water to pummel at his neck and shoulderblades, “Shit,” he shook his head and thumped at the shower wall once more. His hand slipped on the condensation, sliding to the side and propelling his forehead to beat against the tiles with a slick ‘thud,’ prompting him to hiss out a curt: “Ouch!”

After showering, drying himself off, dressing and painting his signature smile over his cheeks, he began the soft trudge into town with his hat clasped firmly over his head. A embroidered card with his heart written within the contents, a bouquet of dark red el ceibo, large and soft pink roses, and several sprigs of yellow calafate, and the promise of potentially spending a night together, was propelling him to approach the training room you took.

Knocking twice on the doorframe beside the door, he witnessed you in your training garb pummeling into a hanging boxing bag with your hands bound in wraps, and your ankles strapped. Noticing the knock, you curled your head up at him and offered him a soft smile. 

“Corazon,” you halted the swinging of the bag by pressing your hands against the material, “Something the matter, sir?” He noticed your inquisition, your brows immediately furrowing in confusion the moment you looked at his hands. Gulping back his courage, he held out his gifts and darted his apprehensive, hazel eyes between yours.

“Cora…” you look to his hands and back to his face for further explanation, “What are you doing?” He triangulated his brows up, silently begging you to take the flowers and the card from his outstretched offering. You slowly reached your bound hands toward him and claimed the flowers and card from him without tearing your eyes from his. 

Placing the flowers and card on the bench where your bag was, you looked down to his hands and back up to his eyes before narrowing your pointed gaze up at him. Rosinante physically stuttered with his hands, thankful his Devil-Fruit silenced the soft whimper from fleeing into the air. You waited patiently for further information from the tall, silent Donquixote brother, folding your arms over your chest and pointing with your eyes down at his hands once more. 

Rosinante sighed, his hands moving in fluid gestures to depict his thoughts with his fingertips and palms, “I wanted to give you something nice, tell you how I feel about you, and ask if you’d allow me the opportunity to see where we go. If you’re receptive to my advances-.” Stepping towards him, you press your hands over his wrists to halt his flurry of rapid gestures.

“Why are you doing this, sir?” you hush your voice into a low whisper, darting your eyes between his and seeming to panic, “I-... We-...” you trail off, your hands gripping him painfully hard, “...Please don’t do this, Corazon.” 

His own eyes widened in panic, unsure as to why you’re gripping him so hard and seeming to reject him so harshly. Glancing down at your eyes, looking to your lip, your hard mask began to shift as he mirrored your expression. He kicked the door to the training room closed behind him, motioning the both of you out of sight of the den-den-snail in the corner of the room. He held his middle finger with his thumb: uttering a simple word, “Silence.”

Shock wrote itself on your face the moment he spoke and maneuvered you around the room with poised elegance and ease. He gulped back his nerves, uttering a simple few words: “Code: 0-1-7-4-6, Rosinante. Based at Headquarters under Fleet-Admiral Sengoku. Current rank: Marine Commander. Mission: find the ope-ope-no-mi, and stop my brother’s insanity from plaguing the masses. Four years serving under cover.” 

His lip quivered as he darted his eyes between yours, and hoped his assumption was correct. You gulped your own hesitation, clenching your jaw at his admittance before speaking your own. 

“Code: 3-0-1-3-7,” you whispered your name beneath your breath, hardening your resolve further with your brow creased firmly, “Based at sea under Vice-Admiral Garp. Current rank: Marine Captain. Mission: keep Doflamingo from gaining too much dominion over the other warlords, and maintain the status quo as his most trusted assassin. Seven years serving under cover.” 

Rosinante huffed out a sigh of relief, his shoulders physically dropping as if a weight had been lifted from its perch against him. Your lips twitched up in a soft smile, looking between his eyes and releasing his wrists from your grip. 

“You can talk,” you nod at him, huffing out a small agitated laugh, “This whole time, you’ve been making me talk for you by translating ‘sign’ for the others here, and you could talk the whole damn time.” 

“I didn’t make you do any of those things,” he reached up, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning down towards you with a soft expression, “And I like hearing you talk for me. My words sound prettier spilling from your lips.” You laugh at him, shaking your head and reaching up your hands to his fingers once more. 

“What made you break?” you asked him, darting your eyes around his painted lips and his pointed blue markings beneath his left eye. He gave you a crooked smile, caressing your cheek gently before parroting back your sentiment with, “What made you?”

“I just-...” you huffed out an exasperated breath and straightened your shoulders, “...I couldn’t lie to you, Corazon. You always felt different, somehow. Special, even,” you laughed in a soft pant, “What gave me up?” He smiled, pressing his golden hair against your forehead and closing the distance. 

“You had that look in your eye,” he crooned down in his deep baritone, shooting tingles up your spine, “The one that I just knew you were like me,” he mirrored your laugh, wrapping his arms around your neck, “And I couldn’t lie to you, either.” 

You nod to him, looking at the flowers and card, and back up at him with a curious look on your face, “What made you do this now?” A warm blush grew over his face, prompting him to suck his lips into his teeth and snicker.

“In the spirit of remaining truthful with you,” he rubbed his nose gently with yours, “I have a confession to make about last night…”

[yamikawas]

I’m on plenty of lists. They think they can pin me down with my name but they forget about my knife 💛 They’re all so silly believing I’d be with anyone else but you! ⚡️

WAAAAAAHHH.............YOOMIEE I LOVE U PLS STAY WITH ME FOREVER ILYYYYYYYY

[tomurasprincess]

I had the best idea: AFO fucking All Mights daughter raw in front of him, cumming deep inside, and making All Might eat her up, clean out his seed so she "doesnt get pregnant". He knows it probably wouldn't help, but he has to try, especially with his daughter wailing that shes not on the pill.

Warnings: Noncon, incest, manipulation, coercion, forced creampie, kidnapping, yandere

Note: Good god this was an amazing idea, and so much fun to write.

“I am begging you, don’t cum inside of her,” your father begs the villain who has been ravaging your pussy for what feels like hours.

All for One laughs darkly at the request, grunting as he cums inside of you despite the protests and smirking as you squeal when the hot ropes of cum begin to fill you.

“No, daddy! I’m not on the pill!” You sob as you cum around the villain’s cock, pussy fluttering around him. “No, please - “

“Maybe you should clean her out, if you’re so concerned.” All for One states as he slips out of your pussy, watching the conflicted look on All Might’s face. He knows exactly what the villain means.

You however, are still too innocent. “Do it daddy, please! I don’t wanna be pregnant!”

All Might crawls towards you, wincing as he sees All for One’s cum leaking out of your still clenching hole. There’s so much, surely this wouldn’t help? But he has to try, his daughter’s panicked begging refusing to leave his ears.

He gently inserts one large finger inside of your already abused pussy.

“Daddy, what are you - “

“Shh, I am here - I’m going to help you.”

He slides another finger inside of you, scissoring you open gently as he tries to scoop cum out of you. You whine and squirm, the sound going straight to his cock, a fact which causes him to burn with shame.

“Please, daddy - “

“Use your tongue,” All for One pipes up from the corner, already hard cock still out as he strokes himself to the sight of his sworn enemy violating his own daughter.

His tongue reluctantly slips out of his mouth, licking along your folds. He moans into your heated flesh at the taste, sending vibrations through your skin that causes you to writhe.

His tongue dives inside of you, the wet muscle working its way to your core as he tongue fucks you. You can’t stop the moan from leaving you at the feeling of your father’s tongue reaching so deep inside of you.

“Daddy, it feels so weird - but so good.”

He cringes as he tastes the cum of his enemy, determined to get rid of it all so that he can only taste his daughter on his tongue.

He fucks you harder, finger sliding in as well to force you open even more. You squeal as you cum, and All Might finds himself humping against the floor in an attempt to relieve the pressure in his pants.

You’re pulled through several more orgasms as he cleans you out as best as he can, cumming shamefully in his own pants and leaving a visible wet spot on the material. When he finally pulls away, he see tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheeks.

“Thank you daddy!” You reach up to kiss him tenderly, tasting yourself on his tongue and reveling in it.

All for One stands up, moving towards the corner and pressing a button.“Ahh, I think that’s enough to destroy your career for good.”

It’s then that you both notice the camera and the blinking red light indicating that it’s recording.

All Might eating his daughter out is the only thing in the news the next day.

[yamikawas]

I WILL KILL AND DIE FOR YOU

Yandere!Yoomtah Zing from Epithet Erased for @yamikawas

💌 • This was really fun to make! I really like Yoomtah's design, and she has fun vibes. I did a little bit of digging into her personality so I could make this as accurate as I can without having seen EE. I hope I did well! ♡

x . x . x / x . X . x / x . x . x

[fairytsuk1]

i was all over her (a)

part of the autumn experiences collection.

pairing: yandere!tomura shigaraki x reader

genre: angst

words: 2.5k

summary: you never learn.

prompt: visitor

warnings: noncon mentions/intentions, stalking, pervertedness, this is a yandere fic

    The rain was quickly soaking through his cotton shirt, chilling Tomura to the bone with a grumble threatening to work it’s way up his throat. He hadn’t brought an umbrella in protest of Kurogiri’s suggestion, he was sure it wouldn’t rain as he walked his normal path. But, he was wrong, it was fucking downpouring and his chuck-taylors were hardly holding up.

    Your frog umbrella flashed in and out of the streetlights, the rhythmic step of rain boots clicking and splashing in the puddles that littered the sidewalk. Brown, muddy water rushed in the crook of the street so fast he was briefly reminded of the times he and his family used to look at fish in the nearby rivers. That was a long time ago, no need to make room for old broken memories that would soon cease to exist as he aged further in life.

    What he wanted, was you. Your cute little feet stuffed into rainboots far too big for you, they were a gift from your father. That man was too flippant of your desires and needs that he didn’t even know his own child’s shoe size, a sorry excuse for a man if he were to be honest. The umbrella was a gift from your sister, adamant on you having something to keep you sheltered in this shitty ass neighborhood. You didn’t deserve to live here, he could imagine you in a perfectly manicured house with polished nails and frilly sundresses. The sun would sparkle on your skin and you’d smell flowery with a twinge of cinnamon, leaving men desperate and eager to flip up your skirt with the intent to breed you. You’d look so good, he mused. Cum filling your cunt as you squealed underneath him, pleading for more from your dearest, Tomura.

“Mmph!”

    Your shoe caught onto a crack in the sidewalk, nearly sending you face first into the mess that was the gravelly street. He imagined you’d make such lovely whimpers and moans as he rammed his cock into you, greedily taking you from behind...or maybe the front? He’d like to cum inside you to mark you and maybe, if he was really desperate, your mouth.

    He was working himself up, your apartment was near and the excitement was practically eating him alive with the thought that he’d be able to have you if he was just patient. It would be far too easy for you to get away and cause a scene if he grabbed you by the hair and tugged you into his arms, though, would anyone come for you? Your sister was right, this rough place that you called home was no home at all, they didn’t care about your wellbeing. They didn’t even care about basic necessities, like moving the trash bins so it would be easier for you to keep clean. They were selfish and it made him sick to think of them hurting you, taking you, and doing whatever these fucking creeps could think of. They didn’t care about you like he did.

    “Hey! You live in this apartment?”

    Shigaraki ducks into a nearby alleyway, back crashing against the wall as he shakes water out of his face like a wet dog. Soft pants fall from his chapped lips as water dribbles down his ears and neck. There’s a tightness in his pants and his heart is racing, a usual occurrence when he followed you home.

“Hm? Oh...yes, I do! It’s nice to meet you!” You tell him your name, why would you even think that would be a good idea? “Is there something wrong? I’m new to the area!”

     The man chuckles and your stalkers red eyes peer out from behind the wall, noting your neighbors large frame practically swallowing you up. He almost couldn’t see you considering this man was huddling you into the corner and looking down at you like a piece of meat.

    “You’re new? No shit, I’ve never seen a pretty thing like you before.”

    You can’t even help yourself, cheeks lifting as you pull your keys out of your pocket. Must be the neglect from your parents, you’ll let just anyone in between your legs huh?

     No.

    He can’t think like that, you’re different. You wouldn’t, you can hardly touch yourself correctly. He’d form you into the perfect girl, perfect housewife who made him meals and let him bend you over any countertop.

“Ah, well thank you sir.”

    You’ve got manners too, he likes that. He wants to hear his name-not Shigaraki-but Tomura as it rolls off your tongue, it’d be syrupy and sweet just like you.

    Clunky boots step into your apartment and a creaky door is locked closed, bet that makes you feel safe huh? Like no one’s gonna hurt you? Well, under his eye they won’t. But the only thing it won’t stop is Shigaraki; climbing the white rickety stairs to follow and a copy of your key to match.

    Waiting takes a long time, but it’s worth it to keep this little habit up. The water drips from his hair to his chin and neck, leaving a trail that would no doubt make him smell as disgusting as he felt. His hand reaches up to insert the key before the bulbous man from before is grunting out words that he couldn’t care to listen to. Though, the dude is utterly unrelenting and questions him, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What?”

    “Are you...who the fuck are you? I thought she was single.”

    Shigaraki scans him, unimpressed with the way he’d come to confront him when the two of them had the same goal in mind.

“It’s none of your business.”

     The man reaches for his wrist, looking small in the meat of his palm as Shigaraki lets him play hero for the time being.

     “I’m calling a hero! I have a cousin who works with Endeavor, you know! Stay here!”

“Let go of me.”

     The grip is starting to hurt but the man keeps squeezing, even adding a bit more strength when the wiry man expresses resistance. Doesn’t matter, he’ll just get rid of him while he can. Can’t go around harassing women if you’re just a pile of dust, right?

    Isn’t that what you do, Tomura? Stalk and harass future fucktoys? Or rather...as you like to call them, potential housewives?

    Sometimes, he might blanch when those thoughts resurface, bothering him and making him feel ashamed of who he is. How could someone like him, a successor to fucking All for One feel shame? That frustration or perhaps disturbance due to the intrusive thoughts lets his anger unleash, cracking like whips in the form of crumbling the man to dust. His wife beater, something he was sure he was (though he doubted anyone would want to marry this fuck), crumbled on top of the ashes and grew soaked under the downpour.

“I told you to let go of me. Now look at you.”

    What once used to be a living, breathing person, is now kicked to the drain below. Fingers itching the delicate skin near his jaw, he enters the apartment. He feels hungry, but not for food. He just wants to eat you right up. Yeah, that sounds right. Take you all for himself.

    You’d discarded the boots in the alcove near your door, the frogs smiling with pink cheeks as Shigaraki’s childish shoes squash them in his path of destruction. You lie drowsily in bed, pink fluffy pajamas comforting your soft skin and a duvet pulled up to your nose. You’d normally be asleep if it weren’t for the constant nagging in your gut. It felt as though something had gone horribly wrong. The anxiety causes you to lay still in your bed as if something was watching your every breath.

    It was eerily similar to the way you’d cower from your closet at night with the idea planted in your head that monsters were coming to eat you. This was only different in the way that you didn’t know what monster was coming. Not only that, you had no idea what he would do to you.

    You’d call yourself crazy during times like these, but you’d been right when the door to your bedroom opens.

    “I know you’re awake. You always sleep on your back, not your side.”

    It’s quiet and still. There’s tension thickening in the air like gravy on the stove and you briefly wonder if this was another bout of sleep paralysis. You thought you’d been in this position before, someone or something watching you. It had never felt like this, you’d never felt so terrified in your life.

    “Not up for talking, huh? A bit ungrateful considering I helped rid your little ‘home’ of that greasy pig next door.”

    The footsteps grow closer and against all instincts to play dead or even just move away, you sit up and face the man. His red eyes stare down at you, face bony and cracked...he looked like something straight out of a nightmare. Most people you knew were delicate and kind; they looked like regular people. Shigaraki though...you thought that Shigaraki might eat you alive and tear you apart limb by limp. A whimper exits your mouth as you sit paralyzed whilst he simply gets closer and closer.

    His eyes trace the neckline of your sleeping shirt, a scoop neck that showed the smattering of beauty marks adorning your skin. You were so beautiful, he grinned and planted his bottom at the edge of your bed. You shook, the water logged clothes easily soaking through to you and making your heart sink deeper in your chest. You held a confused look, like a deer in headlights or maybe a puppy with twitching ears.

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

    “Why are you apologizing? Aren’t I the one who broke in?”

    Cry for me. You’d look so good and I’d commit it to memory, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

    “You’re such a pushover, how’d you let this happen? Hm?”

     The tears build at your lash line until finally falling in fat droplets down your cheeks. Your hands turn to fists like a child as you rub your eyes, no defenses in place other than to cry like a submissive brat. Your breaths were uneven as you attempted to wipe away tears until a quick hand caught your wrist, pinky lifted.

    “Look at me, when you cry. Gets me off,” he giggles before leaning so close your lips could almost touch, “did you know that? Everytime you sobbed in your pillow, I had a hard time choosing whether or not I should cuddle you or jerk off.”

    A broken wail escapes you as your body finally makes the move to get away, your feet kick in the tangled sheets and you attempt to wrangle your wrist away from him, thrashing and beating on his chest desperately. He almost felt a bit sad, sure, he was a bit mean with the teasing. But...you had to have known that someday someone was going to come for you like this, right?

     It’s easy to intercept your punches, holding both wrists at your head as he leaned over you. His hair framed the two of you, leaving you completely caged in this man. His lithe body scooched up yours, hips resting at yours for a moment.

     “I’m gonna make you mine, well, more like you already are mine. Tomura Shigaraki's little wife. Okay? So you’re gonna come with me to the base without complaints, yeah?”

     A brave scream tore through your mouth as you arched your back, trying for a second escape attempt. His left hand detached from your arm to grab your throat, cries quickly dying out as you thrashed wildly.

     “If my pinky touches this vein right here, you’ll turn into a pile of dirt. If that happens, I’ll move onto someone else. So come on; do you really want to be the cause of someone’s future suffering? Give up, daddy taught you better than to fight.”

“How…?”

     He laughed heartily, your throat clenching under his grip before he loosened to let you get a whoosh of air.

     “Seriously? It’s so obvious you’re a daddy’s girl, take the stupid little gifts, listen to his every command, and wait for the day he decides to acknowledge you. It’s practically...practically predictable! You’re predictable and sad.”

     His words feel like venom as you cry, the lack of oxygen making fuzzy black spots dot your vision. He might kill you in this moment, your lungs squeezed and he finally let go. You sputtered, body confused with it’s sudden freedom as you looked up at him with glassy eyes and snot dripping down past your lips to your chin.

     “You look tired, I’ll take you home okay?”

     You’re dazed, you almost don’t recognize the way he peels back the covers and grazes his hands up your thighs, exposing every inch of skin as if you were a present meant to be savoured.

“I’m a virgin! Please don’t…”

     A look flashes in his eyes as he peers at you from his lashes.

     “Perfect, just makes you even sweeter.”

     You hadn’t thought you could cry more, but every word that came out of his predatory lips made a new wave of heartache resurface, was this really who you were? A weak girl who could let herself be lifted into the arms of a man she didn’t know, fingers digging into the plump flesh of her bottom as she weakly clung on?

      A memory flashes in your mind as you let yourself be taken care of...well no, be kidnapped from your bedroom. It was the one with the high school boys, the way they’d flipped up your skirt and prodded at your weakest, most sensitive places. You’d cried for them to stop, told your father what the sickening boys had done to you. They’d practically defiled you, maybe would have gone so far to take you in that empty classroom had you not kicked one of them square in the shin.

     Your father’s words ring in your ears.

     “Well, you must have done something for that to happen. Don’t wear such short skirts next time.”

     A hand comes to caress the top of your head. Tomura’s, he had you right where he wanted you. Vulnerable and weak to his advances, you were tired too. This was just going to make things easier.

     The rain has slowed to a drizzle, you shivered in his arms and prayed to God for forgiveness as you buried yourself closer to him, the warmth comforting and soothing for your soul. Your bare feet swung limply as he kept you pressed to his front, walking on a seemingly practiced path. He was all over you.

      If he could apologize, Tomura didn’t think he would. He had to be all over you. Consume your soul like the evillest of demons.

      “Cheer up, maybe if you’d been a bit more vigilant, this would have never happened.”

     Your bottom lip trembled, maybe love was not destined for you. After all, you must have been asking for this.

     “And by the way...you know I love you right?”

     You’d heard it a million times before.

[therainroguefanfiction]

♆ Yandere (Lord Harkon) Belong to Me

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Vampire ☁

Word Count: 1,881 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Harkon ☁

World: Skyrim ☁

Prompt: #6: ”How else would they know you belonged to me?” ☁

Author’s Note: This was requested for the Yandere Set! If you’d like to request your own, please see my post [here] to check and see which are available~ I don’t know much about his personality as I’ve only done his questline once, but hopefully this isn’t too OOC.

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Boots echoed off of the stone walls of Castle Volkihar’s dungeon. The air was pungent with the smell of mold, blood, and death. The candles flickering on the walls barely made a dent in the darkness and you had to strain your eyes to make out the silhouette that had come to a stop in front of your cell. The metal books shook as a key was inserted into the lock and turned, the hinges creating a high-pitched squeal as the door was pushed open.

“Wake up,” hissed one of the low-level vampires that stalked the halls of the castle, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. When you didn’t move, he jammed the toe of his boot into your side, making you wince in pain. As a reflex, you tried to move your body away from him, but your wrists were pinned above you by metal cuffs screwed into the hall and you could not move. He squatted down in front of you, cold hand gripping your chin tightly as his glowing eyes focused on your neck, bruised and scarred from Harkon’s weekly feedings. “Your blood smells so damn good~”

Despite your current position and lack of power, you managed to glare at the Redguard. “And you smell like mammoth ass,”

Anger flashed through his eyes and, as quick as sabrecat, he backhanded you, sending your head to the right as you cried out in pain, your skin stinging. You were sure it would have hurt less if you stuck your head in a beehive. “I suggest you watch your tongue, mortal.” He spat, moving his hand to your throat and forcing your head further to the side so he had more access to your exposed throat.

You tried to pull your body away, but between his iron grip and the cuffs binding you, you didn’t stand a chance. In the year that you had been stuck at Castle Volkihar, no one had fed from you except for Harkon which, you supposed, had been a bit of a blessing. If just one vampire feeding from you left you feeling so drained and cloudy-headed, you couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for the other cattle, who get fed from by multiple vampires, sometimes all at once.

You had to repress the urge to gag as his cracked lips pressed against your skin. On instinct, your body tensed up in preparation for the sharp sting, which you tried to control knowing it would only make it hurt worse. His fangs scraped against the skin, making you take a shaky breath.

You waited, but instead of a sharp sting in your neck, you felt ice-cold liquid spray across your reddened cheek. The Redguard’s body fell backward onto the ground, his head rolling across the room and blood spurting from his neck. Your wide eyes snapped to the shadow hovering in the doorway, blood dripping from its sharp claws.

Lord Harkon, in his vampire lord form, huffed haughtily as he stared at the corpse in disgust, flicking his hand to remove the blood. “What arrogance, trying to take what does not belong to him. Vingalmo!”

The Altmer vampire appeared at his side, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, my lord?”

“Have Y/N brought to my chambers,” his lip curled back as if he smelled something foul. “And then clean up this mess.”

“Yes, my lord.” Vingalmo bowed as his lord floated away down the dark hall.

You kept your eyes on the ground as he unlocked one of the cuffs, your arm falling to your lap like a bag of rocks. It was so numb, you could only just move your fingertips. As he worked on the second cuff, your eyes scanned the corpse in front of you, wondering if he carried a weapon of some sort on him.

Sensing this, the male kept his arm on your wrist rather than letting your second arm drop. “Come now, Y/N, we both know what will happen if you attempt to escape.” His voice was kind enough, but you could hear the warning lingering beneath the surface and you knew it was no idle threat.

When you had first been brought to the castle, you were full of fight and determined to escape your bloodsucking captors. You had even gotten close a few times, but each attempt was met with consequence. Food was withheld from you, Harkon nearly drained you dry on more than one occasion, your leg had been snapped in half and, finally, you were chained within the castle’s dungeon, stripped of light and sound where you were left to your own thoughts for weeks without end.

Where had your fight gone? At this point, you were too exhausted to care. It just wasn’t worth fighting anymore. Maybe if you behaved, you could finally be set free from the dungeon.

Vingalmo helped you to your feet, draping your thin body over his shoulder. You groaned, voice hoarse from a mixture of lack of use and water. “I may walk with a limp now, but I can walk, you know.”

He hummed as if he didn’t believe you. “Perhaps so, but in your weakened state, it would take you a minimum of a month’s time to reach my lord’s chambers.”

‘It’s not my fault this damned castle is huge,’ Your eyes narrowed at the ground. His boney shoulder poked into your ribs with every step, but it paled in comparison to your cheek and ribs. Your eyes slid closed as he stepped out into the dining hall.

The room immediately fell silent, everyone turning to stare at the two of you. They could smell their fallen brother’s blood upon your skin and they stirred with unease, not knowing if you had caused his death.

You could feel their eyes burning into your skin, some filled with hatred, others with hunger. After all, you were just a piece of meat to them. How much longer could Harkon milk your body before the blood finally stopped flowing? Would your taste change as you got older, or would it taste the same? You knew very little about vampires because your family banned talk of them from the house, claiming the tales to be nothing more than some hogwash story told by a drunken old man.

There was no denying their existence now, not for you.

Vingalmo ascended the grand staircase, pausing to knock on Harkon’s door. With no response, he pushed the heavy metal door open, unfazed by the high-pitched whine of the worn hinges. He picked you up, setting you on your feet, but your weak legs couldn’t take the sudden weight and you crumbled to your knees.

He sent you a look, as if that proved his earlier point, before clearing his throat. “Wait here. Lord Harkon will be with you soon.” He paused in the doorway, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and tossing it at you. “Do try to clean up before he arrives.”

Your brow furrowed as he left the room, closing the door behind him. After so many escape attempts, why would he trust you to be alone? Maybe he sensed your growing compliance. After spending nearly two months in that dark, silent cell, he really couldn’t blame you.

You picked up the piece of cloth, scrubbing at your cheek and hoping you had gotten the majority of the blood off your skin. The skin was sensitive and it stung every time you touched it. With some effort, you managed to get the blood flowing back to your legs, trying to ignore the pins-and-needles feeling as you shakily got to your feet, the stone like ice against your skin.

You scanned the room, expecting to find Harkon standing within the shadows of the room, but you were alone. You moved closer to the fireplace, welcoming the warmth that was so rare within those walls. Your legs were starting to shake again, so you allowed your body to fall into the chair angled toward the fire.

A sigh passed your lips, eyes sliding closed as you focused on the crackling flames. For a moment, you felt at peace. At the very least, none of Harkon’s minions would be fool enough to enter his chambers without his permission, so you were safe from being used as a meal. You were so wrapped up in the temporary bliss that you didn’t notice the door opening and closing.

“Did I give you permission to sit upon my chair?”

Your body tensed and you nearly jumped out of the chair, wide eyes snapping toward the doorway where Harkon stood, arms crossed over his chest and thin brow raised. He stepped toward you, crooning his ringed index finger to indicate that he wanted you to stand. Slowly, you pulled yourself up, willing your legs not to give out on you again.

Harkon took your place, settling himself on the chair. To your surprise, he grabbed your hips and forced you back onto his lap, nails digging into your sides. Your heart raced at the sudden contact, a chill going down your spine when his breath fanned over your neck. “You seem to enjoy causing me trouble, Y/N.”

The way he hissed your name made your breath catch in your throat.

“To think that animal put his filthy hands on you,” His voice was measured, but the anger was clear as day to you as his hand lifted to your chin, tilting your head so he could observe your cheek. “Has he done this before?”

You weren’t sure if you should answer or not, but his grip on your waist and chin tightened in warning. “Y-Yeah… since he got here.”

Harkon’s aura darkened considerably. “And you didn’t feel the need to share this information?”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you mumbled in response, feeling confused by his sudden change. Why was he so damn angry? You didn’t get it.

“Well, I intended to honor your will by not turning you, but…” He paused, his tongue licking up your neck, which was sensitive from all of his previous bites. “It seems I have been left with no choice.”

“W-Wait a minute -!” Fear gripped your heart and a surge of adrenaline rushed through your veins, but no matter how hard you fought, his grip was like steel.

But Harkon wasn’t listening, at least not to your words. “But, my dear Y/N, how else would they know you belonged to me? Listen to your heart race for me. I must admit, I will miss that sound, but I will grant you my gift, and you will rule by my side. Together, we will forge a realm of eternal darkness.”

“No, I -!”

His fangs sank into your neck, deeper than they ever had before. You cried out in pain, a searing heat rushing through your body as the curse entered your veins.

“No one else may touch you but I,” he hissed, dragging a nail across his wrist until blood poured from the wound. You tried to avoid him, but he forced his wrist upon your lips, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth. “My blood flows within you now.”

The last thing you heard before darkness claimed you was the sound of his deep chuckle against your ear.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[an-ambivalent]

Lies & Deceptions [Yandere! Chat Noir] [Reader-Insert]

As Ladybug travelled from one roof to another to get to her destination, she bit her lip in thought. Her mind was racing with countless of thoughts per second, and anxiety was causing her stomach to churn. She felt sick, and she felt as if she was going to throw up at any moment. This was because she was starting to feel overwhelmed by her emotions and thoughts.

Normally, as an infamous superhero duo, there were some people, and media channels who started all sorts of scandalous rumours and fake news about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Obviously, they knew better than to believe those silly rumours and let fake news cloud their judgement of each other. It was for this very reason that Ladybug ignored the article which was published to address the rumours of Chat Noir murdering akuma victims. For the most part, it seemed as if the author of the article tried to maintain a neutral perspective while writing the entire article. However, no published piece ever portrays a neutral perspective on a subject; it will always leans towards a certain bias. In this case, the article had solid evidence with people anonymously confessing that Chat Noir was a threat to be recognized.

It was a very convincing article and it had gained decent amount of attention. However, just like Ladybug, Chat had been a respected superhero for years now, and had found a place in the heart of every Parisian. There was simply no way the beloved Chat Noir could murder someone. That is what the majority, and Ladybug believed, despite her gut constantly signalling her that that was not the case.

She should have listened to her instinct. After all, instincts were born from fear, that engulfed one’s self for a reason. And the ugly truth she had continually denied, was revealing itself to her.

Now, Ladybug needed to embrace the fact that her long-time partner, was nothing but a possibly psychotic stranger, who would not think twice before getting rid off her. So, she needed to be completely wary of Chat, and treat him like an enemy. She could not afford to make any miscalculations, or any mistakes, because this time, it was not just their miraculous at stakes.

It was their lives.

A battle of cunning lies and unknown truths was beginning, and in this battle, there would only be one winner.

Ladybug needed to make her victory certain. Not only so she would not die, but also to protect the innocent individual who had unknowingly become Chat’s victim, all because Ladybug had rejected him.

It was her fault that this mess had begun because she failed to support Chat when he needed her the most.

So, Ladybug swore, it was going to be her who would protect [Name] [Surname] from any further harm.

***

It was a bit past midday when Ladybug had reached her destination. The skies which were grey before, had just seemed to become duller. Suddenly, the skies had darkened so much, that it felt like it was nighttime.

Ladybug blinked owlishly as she landed on the window’s sill out of [Name]’s room. Grey curtains were withdrawn over the windows from the inside so Ladybug could not see inside the room.

Out of nowhere, a shiver ran down Ladybug’s back as she felt a deep gaze digging holes in it. Sweat begin to form on the back of her neck, and shaking slightly in fear, she glanced around her surroundings warily.

Chat hasn’t followed me, has he? She asked herself, and suddenly, that thought manifested her fear. Wanting to get this done and over with, she loudly knocked on [Name]’s window.

“[Name] [Surname]?! This is Ladybug! I got your text and I came over as soon as I could! Please let me in,” Ladybug exclaimed, as she continued to knock on her window.

Right away, the curtains in front of Ladybug’s vision were drawn back, and Ladybug’s eyes widen when she saw a timid [e/c] girl staring back at her with wide eyes. [Name]’s shoulders were tensed, before she quickly opened the window, and ushered Ladybug inside. As she did so, [Name] glanced around her surroundings to make sure they were not being watched. As she looked around her surroundings, she stopped, and gazed at a certain spot for a few seconds. She narrowed her eyes at the spot. Her lips seemed to twitch upwards momentarily.

She stepped back, as she shut the window, and withdrew the curtains. She turned towards Ladybug, her eyes filled with panic, and evident anxiety radiated off of her.

“You weren’t followed right? You didn’t let him pick up on any hints that I contacted you right?” [Name] asked, her words bluttered out in a rush--a sign, that conveyed her uneasiness.

Ladybug’s shoulders tensed because yes. Yes, that she had given it away, and maybe she was followed. She was too busy being lost in her thoughts of what she had to do in the future, that she had forgotten to focus on the present, and pay attention to the sound of footsteps and other noises to make sure she was not followed.

She had already made so many mistakes.

Observing the fidgety girl of nervousness before her, Ladybug decided the truth would do nothing but scare the poor girl before her into a panic attack. She decided she was going to lie.

Another mistake.

Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile.

“Nope! I was s-super discreet about it,” Ladybug answered, stammering ever so slightly. Inwardly, she cursed at herself and hoped that [Name] would not notice her not-so-discreet lie. Momentarily, she felt fear shoot through her when [Name] stared at her dead in the eyes, with an expressionless face. However, as soon as that blank expression appeared on [Name]’s face, it disappeared, and Ladybug wondered; was she imagining things?

She shook off her worry, as [Name] breathed out in relief. Then, she gave her a small, soft smile.

“Thank goodness,” [Name] began, as her shoulders finally relaxed, and she ran a hand through her hair strands. Then, she frowned and looked at Ladybug with utter seriousness.

“I’m sorry for suddenly giving you such a strange message, but I really need your help. At the very least, please hear me out. I know that as the main heroine, and of course your own personal life, you don’t have much time. If I’m not worth your time, then please by no means, feel obligated to help me. I am surprised that you even came here for someone as worthless as me, so thank you,” [Name] said, smiling awkwardly at her.

Ladybug’s eyes widened and she narrowed her eyes at [Name]. She did not miss how [Name] continued to refer to herself as ‘worthless.’

Why would she talk like that? Ladybug wondered, but decided to not comment on it.

She shook her head, and smiled at her.

“It’s no problem. It’s my duty as a superheroine to help those in need,” Ladybug answered, and [Name] hummed in response.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” [Name] suggested, motioning her head towards her bed. Ladybug nodded, as she robotically walked to her bed, and gently sat down.

“Refreshments?” [Name] asked, as she picked up a tray, that had two glasses of orange juice on it, and some chips.

Due to patrolling, Ladybug was really hungry. It seemed as if she had not realized that until this very moment, when her stomach growled, very loudly.

Ladybug blushed, and she smiled in embarrassment.

“Yes please,” She said, as [Name] giggled, and handed her a glass.

Mindlessly, Ladybug accepted it, and took a sip from it.

She did not question why [Name] had two glasses of orange juice, and not one, when there was obviously no one else but her at home. She also did not notice the small ladybug sticker that was at the bottom of her glass, which indicated that the glass Ladybug drank from, was specifically for her.

[Name] smiled as she saw Ladybug drinking more orange juice.

She openly eyed her earrings.

“So,” [Name] began, as she narrowed her eyes at Ladybug.

“What is it like being Ladybug? Is it your earrings that give you the power?” [Name] asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, as she consumed more contents of her beverage which was awfully a bit too sweet.

“Why are you asking me that? Shouldn’t we be discussing Chat?” Ladybug asked, and suspicion filled her eyes.

“Oh, Chat? Yes, we should definitely discuss him,” [Name] started, and she gave Ladybug a sickeningly sweet smile.

Speaking of sick, Ladybug suddenly began experiencing an extremely painful pounding in her head.

She yelped out in pain, as she clutched her head.

“W-What’s h-happening?” She stammered, as her voice became rasped, and her breath shortened.

[Name]’s eyes widen in delightment.

“You’re dying,” [Name] began nonchalantly, as her grin widened.

Ladybug’s eyes widen.

“And back to discussing Chat, he spends WAY too much of his precious time with a bug like you. It was about time you got squashed,” [Name] said, smirking.

“Y-You won’t g-get away with t-this,” Ladybug stammered, before she gasped loudly, and fell back on [Name]’s bed.

The [h/c] female grinned, as she reached for Ladybug's earrings.

“Oh honey, I already have,” [Name] stated, smiling.

As she took the Ladybug Miraculous, a red glow occurred throughout the room, which meant that the previous Ladybug’s transformation had been released. It revealed to be a black-haired female--Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

[Name] did not spare her a glance. Instead, she became focused on the new red Kwami--Tikki--who was floating in front of her.

With her eyes widened in fear, Tikki watched in horror as [Name] put in the Ladybug earrings, and then turned towards her.

She smiled sweetly at the ladybug Kwami. It was a reassuring smile, which had danger hidden behind it, if Tikki did not cooperate.

“So, little bug,” [Name] called, and Tikki shivered.

“I-I’m Tikki,” She muttered, and in response, [Name] squealed.

“You sound so cute! I hope we can be best friends,” She exclaimed in excitement.

Tikki opened her mouth to reply, and her eyes flickered to an unconscious Marinette.

She felt her lip quiver, and tears prickling the corner of her eyes. She wanted to scream and curse at [Name], but she knew that she could not. She diverted her attention back to [Name], whom’s eyes were now slitted in concentration, and she was fully focused on Tikki.

The seriousness of her gaze caused a shiver to run down Tikki’s spine, and [Name] gave her a cheshire smile that Tikki thought befitted a black cat more appropriately, than a bug to be.

“So tell me,” [Name] began, as Tikki glanced down on the floor, and clutched her hand tightly, in fear of knowing the horrors that awaited her.

“How do I become Ladybug?” [Name] asked, excitement emitting from her.

Just like the Butterfly Miraculous, and the Chat Noir Miraculous, The Ladybug Miraculous, had now fallen into the wrong hands. As [Name] was her new chosen, Tikki had no choice but to submit to her demands.

———

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[yamikawas]

Why would I ever kiss a nasty man when my lips are for you? 💛 I love it when you get possessive over me. Only for me. Zzrrrrr… I will spare your friend for implying I’d look in a man’s direction. They are harmlessly silly. Unless they WANT to come between us... that’s a different, bloodier story. I’ll be watching, Tobi darling⚡️

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!YEYEYEYE ON THAT NOTE YOOMIE CMERE IM GONNA KISS UUUUUUUUUUU

[yamikawas]

My darling 💛 I am sooooo sorry I’ve been away for a couple of days. I was held up at work. Every second that ticked by I slaughtered one of those bastards for keeping me from you. And now my pretty white suit is bloody for you! Zrrrrr. I’m in a better mood now that I’m watching you ⚡️

HI YOOMIEE SO I MAY BE A LIL LATE BC MY WIFI WENT OUT BUT THIS IS THE PERFECT THING TO COME BACK TO NOW I JUST FBSBFBFNBDBFNDBDBFSJFBFDJF

[an-ambivalent]

Love [Yandere! Chat Noir] [Reader-Insert]

Chat Noir loved [Name], no matter what.

He loved her when she slept with a serene expression on her face, curled in a small fetal position, and clutched the corners of her duvet covers tightly as she would chew on her bottom lip. Occasionally, she would whimper once or twice as if she was living in a constant nightmare which existed in her days and haunted her during nights. But, that was not possible, right? After all, [Name] had Chat to protect her.

So, to reassure and bring an end to her nightmares, Chat would lovingly pat her head, and kiss her temple. Although Chat did this out of love for [Name], she perceived it as a warning. Whether it was a warning for the demons which haunted her, or a warning for her, she did not know. Perhaps, it was a bit of everything.

Chat Noir loved [Name], no matter what.

He loved her when she was nervous. He loved the way she would shyly glance away from him; a  beautiful hue of pink would blossom on her cheeks and make them rosy, and she would begin to chew on the inside of her cheek. Sometimes, when she was a bit too nervous, she would begin to twirl a lock of her hair in her trembling fingers. This only showed how conscious she was about how Chat perceived her, because she cautiously chose each word and orchestrated it in a sentence which would not hurt his feelings. After all, Chat was quite sensitive, especially in the matters which involved [Name].

Chat Noir loved [Name], no matter what.

He loved her honest eyes which were the window to her soul. Her eyes showcased her emotions, her thoughts, her fears, and her everything. Her eyes held no lies or secrets. He loved her smile and the way her eyes crinkled to show her genuine joy. He loved her warm touch, her kindness, and her personality.

He loved her skin and how smooth it felt when he would sensually caress it. He loved her soft, plump lips and the way they would swell when he would accidentally lose himself in the moment and bite them a bit too hard. He loved her squeals, whimpers and moans of pleasure because he was the cause of those delicious sounds. He loved the red, purple, and blue marks that painted her skin after he was done with her, because her skin which was once a blank canvas, had become his artwork.

Chat Noir loved everything about [Name], and he especially loved her when she was happy, and he was the source of her happiness.

However, there were times--dark times, when he truly lived up to his name and became the black cat of the night.

He did not like to show this side to [Name], but sometimes, he just could not help it because when he did, he got to see her cry.

And just when he thought he could not possibly love her even more.

So, here they were, in [Name]’s room, as the lightning from the storm flashed, and the thunder clapped.

The [h/c] female covered her face with her hands, as tears streamed down her face. Her breathed hitched and she whimpered in pain.

The skin of her neck was carved with claw marks and it was bleeding moderately.

Chat  sat on her stomach as breathed heavily, and intensely stared down at her with dilated eyes. Gently, he grabbed her wrists and pulled away her hands so they would not be shielding her eyes. This caused [Name] to flutter her tear-filled eyes open. Her eyes were etched with pain. At this sight, Chat felt his breath get stuck in his throat as he mindlessly lifted up his hand, and moved it towards her hair.

Cautiously, [Name]’s eyes followed Chat’s fingers as he gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Then, her eyes flickered to Chat’s intense stare, and she gulped, expecting him to apologize like he usually did when hurt her.

However, the words he spoke were not the ones’ she wanted to hear.

His words caused her to shiver in fear.

“You are absolutely beautiful when you cry,” Chat began huskily, as he ran a claw down the side of her face.

“Should we do a round two?” Chat asked, and tilted his head to the side dangerously.

In response, [Name]’s eyes widened impossibly huge in horror.

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