#more like yandere homewrecker

[lovezbrownies]

Divorce her. (Yandere!Military Chief x GN!Reader.)

Gen's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: Your wife left to provide for you and your small family in a distant country years ago. Yet as you try to meet and surprise her, an obstacle appears and blasts you far from your wife's reach. Also requested here

Word count: 5,723

Warnings: Gen. Gen is the warning. Drugging, Kidnapping, Gen making Darling uncomfortable, I forgot, oh noncon touching at the end and Reina being cockblocked! Enjoy <3

Gen wasn’t one to travel often, mostly limiting her trips to diplomatic reasons tied to her job. Even then, she preferred staying within her home country, ever the patriot. Today was one of those rare exceptions—returning from a necessary trip. She stood in the airport, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, waiting for her chauffeur. The bustling crowd around her was nothing but noise, background static that her sharp focus easily ignored. She had no intention of blending in or being approached by anyone.

Suddenly, she was jostled to the side, forced out of her quiet stance by an unexpected shove. A collision with some frantic, careless figure. Gen turned sharply, already preparing to unleash a torrent of irritation. But what she saw gave her pause. You, the cause of her disruption, were a flurry of disorganized motion—papers scattered on the floor as you scrambled to pick them up, your backpack slipping over your head, adding to your disarray. You were a mess, yes, but a mess full of an odd, hyperactive energy that had her narrowing her eyes in curiosity instead of outright fury.

As you fumbled on the ground, Gen’s mind flickered between irritation and something...else. The adorable stupidity of the situation—your frantic attempt to gather papers and the way your backpack tumbled around your head—drew her interest in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Despite her irritation, the sight was almost endearing. Bending down, Gen snatched up one of the fallen papers, her curiosity spiking. A letter. She held it for just a moment, eyes darting to the sender’s details, but before she could read more, you yanked it out of her hand, clutching it tightly against your chest.

“Sorry for bumping into you, but honestly, you were asking for it standing next to a corner… Bye then.” Your hurried words tumbled out as you straightened up, clearly eager to make a quick escape, eyes darting in the direction of your next destination. You were on a mission, even if it was unclear what exactly that mission entailed. But something about your flustered state made Gen want to prolong the interaction, her natural predatory instinct to draw out the hunt kicking in.

Just as you were about to dart off, Gen’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “May I ask what’s got you in such a hurry? I could help you, you know. I’m a well-known Chief within the Court of Xelera.” Her voice softened, a calculated move to make herself seem approachable, as though the sharp edge in her demeanor had been momentarily dulled. And, as expected, your eyes brightened at her offer, a smile of hope lighting up your face. The shift in your expression, from frantic to grateful, tugged at something inside her, a soft crack in her usual stoicism.

“R-Really? That would mean so much if you could help me!” you exclaimed, your excitement palpable. Gen watched you closely, her eyes narrowing slightly. So, you were someone worth helping, were you? “I’m here looking for my wife!” The words left your lips with a mixture of pride and desperation, but the mention of a wife? That struck a different chord in her, though she kept her outward expression kind and interested.

You continued eagerly, “My name’s Y/n L/n! My wife sends me letters, but she never puts a return address or tells me where she is exactly.” There was a hint of frustration in your voice as you spoke, your grip on the letter tightening. “But! She talks about her favorite places sometimes, so I thought I could narrow it down and knock on a few doors! I noticed most of the places are in districts name The Gates, Talis, and Suriso… Strange names…” There was such sincerity in your voice, such an earnest hope that Gen almost found it amusing. Almost.

The Gates, Talis, and Suriso, huh? How strangely ironic and fateful for the locations you want to surround where Gen herself lives… Maybe you’re a spy? An assassin? But with how you look… Definitely not. Sure looks might fool you but even assassins cosplaying as the average civilians look so obvious to Gen’s watchful eye. So Gen decides to put her guards down, but not yet reveal that those districts contain all of the noble houses of Xelera as well as a majority of the most important people in Xelera. However the important people are more safe and protected within The Gates compared to the average noble in Talis. And Suriso is just a shopping district for the rich, yet still overly guarded.

Gen smiled, the expression widening as she listened to your story. She was intrigued, of course, but the mention of Dacos—the thought of helping someone from an enemy land—added another layer to her growing curiosity. Your innocence, your naiveté, was charming, if not utterly foolish. “I’m from Dacos, so I don’t know much about Xelera,” you admitted, your voice almost sheepish. “But if you’re willing to show me around, I’d be really grateful!”

Gen’s mind was already working, weighing the risks and rewards of getting involved with you. The Gates, Talis, Suriso—districts filled with wealthy officials, nobles, and diplomats. Did you really think it would be that simple? “Ah, yes, regular residency districts,” Gen replied smoothly, though internally she was already reevaluating her approach. “They’re quite far from here. I’ll book you a hotel and pick you up tomorrow afternoon. We can start our search then.” She smiled, but this time it was more controlled, less genuine.

Your face lit up again, completely trusting of the offer. Nodding eagerly, you agreed without hesitation, oblivious to any potential danger. Gen felt a small pang of something she couldn’t quite name as she led you to her car, instructing the driver to head toward a particular hotel. The conversation flowed easily as the car moved through the streets of Xelera, though Gen remained half-focused, her thoughts wandering between your naïve excitement and the way she felt drawn to you.

At the hotel, Gen flashed her military ID, securing you a room without issue. She handed you the keycard, her fingers brushing yours briefly, though she pretended not to notice. “Here you go. Don’t mess up the place—I use it often,” she teased, a sly wink accompanying her words. But, once again, her playful hint seemed to go over your head, as you simply beamed at her, offering another round of grateful thanks. She shook her head, watching as you disappeared into the hotel, her curiosity about you deepening with each passing moment.

After you disappeared into the hotel, Gen lingered for a moment outside, her fingers tracing the edge of the keycard she'd just handed you. There was something about the way you smiled at her, so innocent and full of trust, that stirred an unusual feeling in her chest. She wasn’t used to this—being genuinely intrigued by someone’s quirks, especially someone so... hopelessly clueless. Yet here she was, standing outside a hotel, thinking about a stranger from Dacos of all places. A potential enemy.

Shaking her head slightly, Gen turned and made her way back to her car, the faint sound of the hotel’s doors sliding shut behind her. As the driver pulled away from the curb, Gen leaned back in her seat, her sharp eyes watching the city lights flash by. Her mind was far from the bustling streets of Xelera, though—her thoughts drifted back to you. How easily you'd opened up to her, despite being in unfamiliar territory, was baffling. She couldn’t decide whether it was sheer naiveté or blind hope driving you. Either way, it intrigued her.

The next day came swiftly, and Gen found herself standing outside the hotel once more, dressed sharply in a tailored black coat, her military insignia glinting subtly in the daylight. Her patience wasn’t infinite, but she’d promised to help you—and, if she was honest with herself, part of her was curious to see how this search for your mysterious wife would unfold. You appeared from the hotel doors, a bit flustered but smiling as brightly as ever. You waved at her with that same innocent enthusiasm that made her wonder how someone so naïve had gotten this far in life.

“Gen! You’re early!” you greeted, your voice carrying that chipper tone she was starting to associate with you. You jogged over, stumbling slightly as you reached her, nearly tripping over your own feet. Gen caught you by the arm, her reflexes sharp as always, and she raised a brow.

“Careful,” she murmured, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Wouldn’t want you falling on your face before we’ve even started.”

You laughed sheepishly, pulling yourself upright. “Right, right, thanks. I’m just excited, I guess.”

Gen watched you carefully as you stood beside her, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your jacket. There was a nervous energy about you, but it wasn’t the kind born from fear—it was more like you were too eager to stay still. She couldn’t help but wonder if your excitement would fade once you realized how slim the chances of finding your wife were.

She gestured for you to follow her to the car. The ride was smoother this time, and as you both settled into the backseat, you started rambling about your wife again—how you’d met, the letters she sent, the little clues she’d left behind. Gen listened with half an ear, her attention divided between your words and the thoughts swirling in her mind.

Reina. That was the name you kept mentioning. Your wife’s name. Gen knew the name all too well, though she kept that particular piece of information to herself for now. The Reina you were searching for wasn’t just anyone—she was someone connected to Xelera’s underworld, someone who had connections that made even Gen tread carefully. But you, in your innocent excitement, had no idea what kind of person you were chasing.

As you spoke, your eyes lit up, and Gen found herself watching the way your face animated with every word. There was something almost infectious about your enthusiasm, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be swept up in it, letting you guide the conversation without interruption. But the moment was fleeting. Gen had too much experience, too much knowledge of how the world worked, to let herself fully indulge in your hopeful idealism.

Finally, the car came to a stop in the district of Suriso, one of the places you'd mentioned. Gen stepped out first, her eyes scanning the surroundings with practiced precision. The area was bustling with people, but none of them held the same energy you did. There was a heaviness to the place, an underlying tension that came from its proximity to the wealthier districts and the power that loomed just beyond its borders.

You, however, seemed oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, stepping out of the car with wide eyes as you took in your surroundings. “So... this is Suriso, huh? It looks... different from what I imagined,” you said, your voice filled with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. Gen watched you closely, her lips curling into a small smile.

“Welcome to Suriso,” she replied, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Not exactly the shining beacon of hope you were expecting, is it?”

You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “Yeah, not really. But it’s still got... potential, right?”

Gen shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes as she motioned for you to follow her down the street. "Potential, sure. But keep your eyes open. Not everyone here is as... friendly as I am." She smirked, watching your face fall slightly as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

You nodded, falling into step beside her, your gaze darting around as if you were trying to memorize every detail of the place. Gen could tell you were still clinging to hope, but she wondered how long that would last. You were too trusting, too quick to believe that people would always act in your best interest. It was both admirable and foolish, and Gen couldn't help but feel a strange sense of protectiveness over you because of it.

As you walked, the tension in the air thickened, but you seemed blissfully unaware. Gen, on the other hand, was fully attuned to the subtle shifts in the environment, her senses honed from years of experience. She kept a close eye on the people around you, making sure that no one was watching you too closely. Not yet, anyway.

You came to a stop in front of a small café, the sign hanging above the door slightly weathered but still welcoming. “How about we stop for coffee?” you suggested, glancing at her with that same hopeful smile. “We can figure out our next move after that.”

Gen considered the offer for a moment before nodding. “Sure, coffee sounds good,” she replied, though in truth, she was more interested in learning just how far you were willing to go for this search. This would be the perfect opportunity to probe deeper into your thoughts, to see what made you tick.

The first morning after your search for Reina, Gen arranged to meet you at a quaint café near your hotel. Despite her carefully crafted words and the subtle charm woven into her messages, you arrived feeling awkward and out of place rather than charmed. As you waited at the table, your eyes wandered nervously around the café. Gen's entrance caught your attention—calm, composed, and with an aura of control that made her impossible to ignore. But something about her made you uneasy.

She slid into the seat across from you, her smile polite yet calculating. You could tell there was something just beneath the surface, though you weren’t sure what. Her presence, while meant to be comforting, felt like a looming shadow, as if she was dissecting everything about you with every glance. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice sweet but with a tone that implied she expected a particular answer. You hesitated, feeling the weight of her attention. “Yeah… I guess,” you muttered, focusing on your coffee, too nervous to meet her gaze for long.

Gen’s eyes flickered as she tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. She enjoyed the discomfort radiating from you—subtle, but there. The power she held over the situation was intoxicating, though she masked her true thoughts behind a facade of gentle concern. “You still seem tense. Maybe I could show you a quieter place next time, somewhere more… intimate,” she offered. Her suggestion felt less like an offer and more like an expectation. You nodded, unsure of how to decline without making things more awkward, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup absently.

The conversation flowed in a way that felt controlled by her every word, and though you participated, there was an underlying sense of being led rather than sharing. Gen’s eyes never left you, calculating your reactions, savoring each time you fumbled with your words or nervously shifted in your seat. By the end of the meeting, she felt a stirring inside her—a deeper curiosity about you. You were no ordinary distraction. You were something she could mold, something she could control.

The second day was filled with promises of sightseeing and exploration. Gen picked you up in a sleek car, her demeanor as poised as ever. You climbed into the passenger seat, feeling an odd sense of pressure. She’d been incredibly insistent on showing you around, and despite your initial hesitance, it felt easier to agree than to push back against her firm suggestions.

As she drove, Gen talked about the city in a way that seemed almost rehearsed—every detail carefully curated for your ears. You didn’t feel at ease with her, but it was hard to pinpoint why. Her words were pleasant enough, yet you felt like every compliment, every smile was a move in a larger game you weren’t fully aware of. Still, you let her guide you through the streets of Xelera, her voice filling the quiet moments in the car.

When she pulled up to a small park, she insisted you both take a walk. As you moved through the paths lined with autumn leaves, Gen's eyes were always on you—studying how you reacted to her, to the surroundings. She would occasionally touch your arm lightly, guiding you in a direction that she wanted, her hand lingering just a little longer than necessary. Each time you tensed up, a flicker of amusement sparked in her gaze.

“I think I’m starting to understand you a little more,” she said at one point, her tone deceptively soft. You blinked, unsure of how to respond to that. You didn’t feel like you’d revealed much about yourself at all, yet she spoke as if she knew you better than you knew yourself. Gen’s smile deepened when she saw your confusion—it was exactly the reaction she craved.

By the third day, you had started feeling the weight of her presence more heavily. Gen invited you to dinner at an exclusive restaurant, claiming it would be a “more private” opportunity to help you with your search for Reina. Something about the invitation felt off, but you reluctantly agreed, unsure how to decline her without coming off as ungrateful.

When you arrived, the restaurant was dimly lit, the ambiance heavy with formality. You felt out of place immediately. Gen, however, thrived in this environment. She led you to a private booth, her hand on your lower back, gently pushing you forward as though you needed direction. Once seated, she leaned back with a casual air, while you sat rigidly across from her, trying to mask your discomfort.

Over the course of the dinner, Gen continued her usual dance of veiled compliments and subtle domination. She ordered for you without asking, brushing off your mild protest with a light laugh. “I know what you’ll like,” she said confidently, as though there was no question about it. You found yourself eating the meal in silence, uncertain of how to assert your preferences in her overwhelming presence.

Throughout the evening, Gen played her role perfectly, appearing attentive and interested in you, though you could feel that familiar sense of control seeping into every interaction. You realized then that this wasn’t just a friendly dinner. It was another move in whatever game she was playing. Her eyes, sharp and predatory, lingered on you as you fumbled through the conversation, but instead of pushing back, you tried to keep things neutral, unaware of how deeply Gen was becoming enthralled with the power she held over you.

On the fourth day, Gen arrived at your hotel without so much as a warning text. You heard a knock and, when you opened the door, there she stood, a smile plastered on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped inside before you could even greet her, as if your space was hers to claim. “I thought we could spend some more time together today,” she said, her tone laced with sweetness that made the hair on your neck stand up.

You stared at her, momentarily frozen by the boldness of her entrance. No invitation had been extended, but she behaved as if she was expected. Your discomfort was palpable, but Gen either didn’t notice or, more likely, didn’t care. She began to walk around your hotel room, examining the small details of your life here—clothes strewn across a chair, a book half-open on the nightstand. “You should really try to keep things tidier,” she remarked lightly, her fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt as though it were hers to touch.

Her movements felt like an invasion, each glance, each touch calculated to unsettle you. You tried to form words, to question her sudden intrusion, but Gen’s control over the situation was absolute. She moved to sit on your bed, patting the space beside her as if beckoning you to join. The weight of the unspoken command pulled you forward, and despite the unease bubbling within you, you found yourself sitting, albeit stiffly, beside her. Her hand drifted to your knee, a light touch but one that felt heavy with meaning.

As she began to talk, her voice remained that same soothing, artificial sweetness. “I’ve been thinking about you,” she admitted, her eyes watching your reaction closely. The way she said it made you feel small, like you were a possession she was beginning to covet. “You seem so stressed. I could help with that, you know.” Her hand squeezed your knee slightly, her touch lingering longer than was comfortable. You shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but her grip tightened imperceptibly, as if reminding you who held the power here. The subtle possessiveness in her actions sent chills down your spine, her words no longer a suggestion, but an inevitability.

The fifth day began with an innocent enough plan—another café visit. This time, Gen chose a quieter spot, tucked away from the city’s hustle. When you arrived, she was already seated, waiting for you with that same deceptive smile, the one that never fully concealed her true nature. The café was warm and inviting, but you could feel the coldness in the air between you two. Today, something felt different. Gen was more focused, her gaze sharper, as if she had decided to push past the boundaries you hadn’t even known she had set.

As you sat down, she leaned in immediately, closing the distance between you. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she said softly, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of irritation. Her tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of accusation that made your pulse quicken. You shook your head quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “No, not at all. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.” It wasn’t entirely untrue, but it felt like an excuse you hoped she would accept.

But Gen wasn’t in a forgiving mood today. Her smile tightened at the edges, her hand reaching out to brush against your arm. The contact sent an involuntary shiver through you, her touch feeling more like a claim than a comfort. “You shouldn’t lie to me,” she murmured, her voice deceptively soft. “I can tell when people are holding something back.” Her fingers lingered on your skin, and it felt like she was testing you, pushing to see how far she could go. The intensity of her gaze locked you in place, making it difficult to breathe, let alone think.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the tension between you two remained. Gen’s words were carefully chosen, each one laced with subtle commands disguised as gentle suggestions. She asked about your day, your plans, but every question felt invasive, like she was gathering pieces of you to add to her growing control. The way she looked at you—hungry and possessive—made you realize that this was no longer just casual companionship. She was slowly wrapping herself around your life, tightening her hold. You could feel her drawing you further into her web, her obsession growing more evident with each passing moment.

By the time you left the café, you felt drained, her presence lingering long after she had gone. The weight of her fixation was becoming more than just uncomfortable—it was suffocating.

The sixth day marked a new level of control for Gen. You had tried to maintain some semblance of distance, but it seemed like she was always one step ahead, knowing exactly where you were and what you were doing at all times. That evening, she showed up at your hotel room once again, this time with no pretense of politeness. She knocked, but when you opened the door, she brushed past you without waiting for an invitation, her presence filling the room like a storm.

Her demeanor was different today—more demanding, less subtle. She paced the small space of your hotel room as if it were her own, her eyes scanning every inch as though she was sizing it up. “We’ve spent a lot of time together this week, haven’t we?” she asked, her voice casual but her tone heavy with implication. There was no real question there; it was a statement of fact, and you knew it. You nodded stiffly, unsure of where this was going. Gen’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile.

Without warning, she closed the distance between you, her hand gripping your shoulder with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “You need someone like me,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You’re too trusting, too… vulnerable.” Her words felt like a trap, a carefully laid snare that you had walked into without realizing. You tried to step back, but her grip tightened, her nails digging slightly into your skin. “I can protect you,” she said, her eyes dark and unwavering. “But you need to let me.”

The possessiveness in her tone was unmistakable now. Gen wasn’t just interested in you; she wanted to control you, to bend you to her will. The atmosphere in the room felt suffocating, her presence overwhelming. You could feel the shift in her—this was no longer a game of subtle manipulation. She was making her claim on you, her obsession fully on display. Every word, every touch was a reminder that you were no longer in control. Gen had crossed a line, and there was no going back.

By the seventh day, you were nearing the end of your rope. Gen’s constant presence in your life had become unbearable. She texted you relentlessly, her messages veiled in sweetness, but the underlying demand for your attention was always there. That morning, she insisted on meeting you again. You could feel the weight of her obsession pressing down on you, but you reluctantly agreed, hoping to somehow manage the situation.

When you met her, Gen was already waiting, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp, watching you with a predatory intensity that made your skin crawl. She greeted you with a smile, but there was nothing warm about it anymore. “I was starting to think you didn’t want to see me,” she said, her voice dripping with a faux playfulness. But the accusation was clear. You forced a smile, trying to keep things neutral, but Gen was already pushing past your defenses.

Throughout the conversation, she grew more demanding, her words laced with possessiveness. “You can’t just avoid me,” she said at one point, her tone darkening. “I’m trying to help you, but you’re making it difficult.” Her eyes bore into you, daring you to challenge her, but you couldn’t. The power dynamic between you had shifted completely—any illusion of casual companionship was gone. Gen’s obsession had consumed her, and it was suffocating you.

The breaking point came when she reached across the table, her hand wrapping around your wrist with a firmness that made you flinch. “I don’t like being ignored,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to learn that.” The threat in her words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, you realized just how deep her fixation ran. Gen wasn’t going to let you go—not easily, not without a fight. And as you sat there, trapped under her gaze, you felt the full weight of her obsession crushing down on you.

This was no longer about companionship or even control. Gen had crossed the line into something far darker. The week had started with her charm and manipulation, but now, you were facing the reality of her true nature—obsessive, possessive, and dangerous.

On the eighth day, the world outside felt like a distant memory as you slowly woke up in an unfamiliar place. The walls were a muted beige, adorned with expensive artwork that only served to highlight how out of place you felt. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, the remnants of whatever Gen had slipped into your drink the night before. Panic set in as you tried to move, only to discover that your wrists were restrained, tied to the ornate bed frame. A wave of nausea rolled through you, a bitter reminder of how easily Gen had taken control.

As you struggled against the restraints, the door swung open, and there stood Gen, her expression a mixture of amusement and something darker. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she purred, stepping into the room like she owned the very air you breathed. The sight of her made your heart race—not with excitement, but with fear. “I hope you’re feeling better. I prepared your first meal.” She held up a tray, the aroma of food wafting toward you, tantalizing yet nauseating under the circumstances.

“Let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaky but resolute. Gen merely chuckled, a low, sultry sound that sent chills down your spine. “Oh, but where would be the fun in that? You’re my guest now, and I’ll take excellent care of you.” She placed the tray down on your lap, the clatter of the plates echoing in the silence. You eyed the food suspiciously, knowing full well that Gen had no interest in your well-being. “You’re going to eat, and you’re going to enjoy it. After all, I can’t have you wasting away on me.”

Your appetite vanished as you pushed the food away, the act of defiance feeling more futile than empowering. Gen’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. She leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear, her voice dripping with a chilling sweetness. “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” Her eyes sparkled with sadistic delight, and you could feel the weight of her control pressing down on you, suffocating any lingering hope of escape.

Every meal became a battle of wills, Gen meticulously serving you while you tried to resist. With each passing moment, the reality of your situation sank in deeper. You were trapped in her home, her possession, and no matter how fiercely you fought back, Gen was always one step ahead, her grip tightening around you like a vice.

A week passed in this twisted cycle, and every day felt like a struggle for survival within the confines of Gen’s control. You had learned to adapt, finding ways to please her in hopes of avoiding her wrath. Her laughter would ring out when you complied, a sound that should have brought joy but only served to remind you of the chains binding you to this life. Each time you did something to make her happy, a part of you died inside, but you had no choice. Displeasing her meant punishment, and you were terrified of what that might entail.

In this new routine, you had become more pliant, like a puppet dancing to her tune. Gen rewarded your compliance with moments of kindness—short-lived and always tinged with manipulation. She would occasionally loosen the restraints, allowing you a moment of freedom, but only to remind you of how easily she could take it all away. “See? Isn’t this much better?” she’d coo, her eyes alight with a wicked gleam as you shifted uncomfortably in her presence.

You learned the unspoken rules of her household: don’t question, don’t resist, and above all, please Gen. The fear of her disappointment hung over you like a dark cloud, forcing you into submission. Each day became a lesson in survival, your mind slowly warping to fit the confines of her expectations, and though you fought against it, a part of you began to wonder if this was all you would ever know.

Finally, the day came when Gen announced you were allowed to leave your room, albeit under her watchful gaze. “I think you’ve learned your lesson well,” she said, her voice silky smooth. “But don’t get too comfortable; your freedom is still mine to grant.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The world outside felt foreign, and you hesitated, dread pooling in your stomach.

“Let’s go to the living room. I want to show you off,” Gen ordered, her tone brooking no argument. You followed, heart racing, acutely aware of her presence behind you, the heavy weight of her obsession clinging to your back like a shadow.

You stepped into the lavish living room, decorated with expensive furniture and art that screamed opulence. It felt like a gilded cage, and as you took a seat on the plush couch, you felt the familiar pressure of Gen’s gaze on you. She settled beside you, her arm draping casually over your shoulder, claiming you in front of anyone who might walk in.

Just as the atmosphere began to settle, the door swung open, and there stood Reina, her eyes wide with shock. “W-What are you doing here…?” she stammered, panic flooding her expression as she took in the scene before her. The moment felt like time had frozen, and you could feel Gen’s grip on your shoulder tighten slightly, a warning of the tension building in the air.

“I work here,” Reina replied breathlessly, her voice tinged with confusion and concern. She turned her gaze to you, desperation etched across her features as she asked, “Why are you here too?” The question hung heavily between you, an unspoken understanding that something was horribly wrong. You felt your heart race as you searched for words, but all that escaped your lips was a weak, “You—You work for her…?”

Gen’s lips curled into a smirk, relishing the unfolding drama as if it were an entertaining play. “Oh, yes,” she drawled, her voice dripping with condescension. “You see, I’ve found another…” Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as she leaned closer, her voice low and mocking. “Unless you want to share, Reina?” The suggestion sent a ripple of tension through the room, a twisted game unfolding as you watched Reina’s expression shift from shock to a mixture of anger and disbelief.

The air thickened with unspoken words, a confrontation brewing as you glanced between them, caught in the crossfire of their conflicting emotions. You were the pawn in Gen’s twisted game, and as you sat there, the realization hit hard—you had lost more than just your freedom. You had become a trophy in Gen’s obsession, a pawn in a game you never wanted to play.

[2-dsimp]

"expand" Alr. Bet.

Yandere!homewrecker that found darling on a date w her husband and fell in love w darling

Yandere!homewrecker who refuses to lose to darling's hubs so he seduce darling to cheat w him..

Yandere!homewrecker... hmm.. 😳

Yandere Homewrecker! Who’s stuck up and spoiled always wanting for more despite giving less in return. Flaunting himself like the top model with his nails done, face beat, and his flamboyant hair snatched from the top beautician salon in the city.

Yandere Homewrecker! That has zero boundaries and couldn’t care less for the ring on your finger. The more unobtainable you present yourself to be the more obsessed he’ll be. Would be counting down the days he’d make you his drawing tic marks with his own lip brand upon his vanity set.

Yandere Homewrecker! Who finds any type of rejection to be endearing. Harumu would merely giggle and and bat his long lashes telling you how cute you are. For going out your way to pretend that you could even resist a pretty specimen like himself.

Yandere Homewrecker! That acts like a cunty mean girl. Nitpicking at how subpar your husband is if he couldn’t even get you regular appointments in the spa. Or even buy the latest fashion catalogue installation.

Yandere Homewrecker! Who’d dramatically point out how ragged your appearance is. And mourn the loss of your precious cuticles dying out because of the pure neglect from your pathetic husband.

Yandere Homewrecker! Who ignores your husband’s existence and ultimately cannot even view him as a human. To him everyone who can’t even come close to his beauty looks like a stick figure besides you as an exception.

Yandere Homewrecker! Who doesn’t like getting his hands dirty since it’d fuck up his nails. But for you darling, he supposes that one broken nail might suffice. If he’s gotta get your man thing out of the picture. Or anyone else for that matter.

[bones4thecats]

Them Crushing on their Opponent's S/O

Characters: Beelzebub, Apollo, Thor, and Poseidon Inspired By: Idk... random thought I guess? A/N: Apologies for not posting anything in a while, I have been trying to get everything set up for the next few days (I have a dog-sitting job lined up here soon and school starting has been making it a little more stressful) but I do hope this was worth the wait for you guys! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Swearing, mentions of fighting, world-wide destruction, mass death (implied), and implied wish to kill another, attempting homewrecker Apollo + implied yandere behavior on each (not bad on Beel and Thor's, worse on Apollo, and horrible on Poseidon's) ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is quoted on being a female

Reader's Outfits ; Beelzebub - Apollo - Thor - Poseidon

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╚═════ Beelzebub ═════════════════════════════╝

🪰 Beelzebub was not excited for his fight. He just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he could get back to doing his own things

🪰 He watched as Nikola stepped out and into the ring, and he noticed how the human looked back at the other inventors. But he was looking at someone specific, at a human that stood alongside the Valkyrie sisters above

🪰 You smiled gently and waved at your husband, your short-sleeved dress moving alongside your shoulders while the rest of your dress accented your frame in amazing ways, much to the amazement of some deities and humans, and in most to the amazement of the two fighters below

"Kick his ass, Nik'!" You yelled.

🪰 Nikola chuckled as you cheered, the youngest sister jumping alongside you. You were such a flamboyant woman back during your lives, and it was hard getting used to life without you when you passed, and it was amazing when you both joined hands again

🪰 Beelzebub saw how much you adored your husband and just scoffed, trying to push the odd feeling of butterflies in his stomach away with the flush on his face

🪰 When this fight ended with a God's victory, the Lord of the Flies needed to find a way to speak to you...

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╚═════ Apollo ════════════════════════════════╝

☀️ Leonidas was ready for his fight, after all, he was going against the man he blamed for the deaths of not only his and his men's lives, but the death of his wife via the domino affect

☀️ You were so saddened when he passed that after your son, Pleistarchus, finally aged up and began his rule, you decided to finally end your life, much to your people's despair

☀️ As your husband looked back at you, you smiled and hugged him, wishing him luck. You the heard an eruption of applause, making you look up while Leonidas scowled silently

☀️ Standing before you both was a youthful-looking god, specifically Apollo, the Greek God of the Sun and Music. Much like the others close to Leonidas, you knew how much he despised this guy and how much he blamed him for the deaths of his men, himself, and in result you

☀️ The God of the Sun looked around and winked at his nymphs in the audience, which caused you to roll your eyes and kiss your husband's arm before leaving him to enter his fight

☀️ It was when you finally made it up to where Brunhilde and Göll were that the fight was about to begin. You could see that the two males were speaking, or rather Apollo was speaking to the King of Sparta standing before him

"You know I always wondered what my opponent looked like, wondered if you truly were just a brute, but..." He looked in your direction, causing you to flinch slightly.

☀️ Apollo smirked as your long blue sleeved moved and how your traditional Greek dress hugged you. It accentuated your chest perfectly and allowed your perfect skin to shimmer in the light that Apollo controlled. Not that man you called yours

"I must admit, you found the most gorgeous ray of life I have ever seen. And I'm a well-sought-after god."

"Shut your fucking trap and fight me like the powerful man you claim to be." Leonidas said, readying his weapon.

"Simmer down there, Leonidas! I meant nothing offensive towards your beautiful wife up there." He said as he winked at you, much to everyone's annoyances. "I just merely wanted to commend you on your taste. Maybe after my victory I can take that flower out for a walk? Yes, that sound delightful."

"Kick that motherfucker in the balls for me, honey!" You screamed.

"Planning on it."

"Well then, I guess we can begin our fight. Now... let's dance, your majesty."

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╚═════ Thor ═════════════════════════════════╝

🌩️ Lu Bu was against leaving you alone in this afterlife. He died in front of you long ago and he didn't plan on doing it again. And if you had any say in what Brunhilde decided for this fight, you would've made he pick another warlord

🌩️ But, fate was cruel and it always landed you both in extremely tight spaces. It cursed you with the arranged marriage to a man you despised while Lu Bu's gave him the strength nobody else could match, leaving him alone for many years

🌩️ Thankfully, your fiance was stupid enough to get himself crossing paths with the rough-man, landing him six-feet-under. It was only after that day that you finally found the man you loved, to which you married and, while not having any biological children, you treated all of your shared subordinates with the love of a mother

🌩️ As the fight began, you shivered. Raising your hands, you gripped your upper sleeves, causing Chen Gong to look at you and wrap an arm around your shoulder, attempting to comfort you while your husband readied himself against the notorious God of Thunder

"Human. Why do you intend to beat me?" Thor asked.

"My wife and soldiers have faith in me, though I don't expect an arrogant monster such as a god to understand that. So why bother?"

🌩️ Thor cocked an eyebrow slightly as he looked over at the many soldiers that Lu Bu led, he gazed over them all before settling on you. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon in eons

🌩️ You looked at Lu Bu with worry and determination in your eyes. It almost made Thor... jealous. But why would he, an all-powerful being such as himself, be jealous of some mortal's luck with picking a spouse?

🌩️ Eventually you felt Thor's gaze on you, making you stare into his yellow-colored irises. He blinked as you shifted slightly in your hanfu, which only made Chen wrap his arm tighter around you, determined to keep you at-bay

🌩️ Thor looked back at your husband before sighing and starting the walk that would mark the start of Ragnarok. He glanced back at you, only to see you focused, watching Lu Bu with both love and hope despite your furrowed eyebrows

🌩️ And while they began their fight, there was one thing plaguing Thor's thoughts; why did he wish for you to look at him in that way?

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╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 As a god of few words and one that showed far to much pride for even his own brothers to handle, Poseidon was the opposite of your husband. And you hated that

🔱 Your husband was none other than Sasaki Kojiro, History's Greatest Loser. And as you were close to a couple immortals such as Buddha and Brunhilde, you knew just how dangerous the God of the Seas could be. And it made you concerned for your husband's outcome in this battle

🔱 Sasaki looked back at you as he raised his now-broken sword, and he could tell by the subtle look that you were beyond pissed. And that was the thing he loved most about you, your fieriness

"Why you arrogant bastard! How much of a fucking asshole do you have to be to not even blink an eye at killing such a magnificent man?! Why if I was down there, I'd smack the ever-loving shit out of you!"

🔱 Poseidon was internally shook at hearing a mortal woman yell at him. Every time any human tried voicing their opinions to him, his mere glace would shut them up. But not this human. This one was different

🔱 Looking up slightly, he saw you standing with the other supporters of your husband. One of the males, Musashi Miyamoto, was holding one of your arms to keep you from jumping down and attacking the god with your bare hands while his son, Iori, was watching in shock at how strong you were

🔱 The one thing that Poseidon noticed other than your attitude was how you moved. You moved so delicately and swiftly despite your fury, and it was, dare he think, alluring. It was almost like you were an embodiment of the silkiness of a piece of the softest fabric ever

🔱 You raised your fist and slammed it on the nearby seat, causing Iori to jump and your elderly-appearing husband to chuckle. Poseidon merely watched stoically as you screamed once again

"You win this match and show Humanity just how amazing your old-ass is, Kojiro!"

"Alright, sweetheart. I understand what I must do." He replied, a chill-smile on his face while yours portrayed pure hatred towards his opponent.

🔱 The God of the Seas then saw you lower your fist back down as Musashi had his son wrap it up, as it was bleeding from the impact of cement and your fragile-hand. He saw your hanfu, it looked very blue, like the seas he ruled over for centuries

🔱 After this fight was over with his winning and a step closer to the destruction of those pesky worms down on Earth, Poseidon was going to need to pay you a visit. Maybe said visit will lead to something else? But, for now, getting rid of this hunk of waste was the first step to said future

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 2!

Next part

Part 1 Here!

MINORS DNI!

CW: F!reader, reader referred to as she/her, reader has a vagina, reader in a dress and bra(so has breast, dw not described! :3) noncon implications, violence against reader (not by ML), STILL NO SMUT!? WHO AM I ?? XD luv y’all have fun!

*Smack!* *Thwack!* *Smack!*

“Don’t slip up now!” You giggle slightly out of breath already.

“Hah! Speak for yourself, be careful not to trip!” Jasper retorts.

*THWACK!* You hit another tennis ball this time with all the oomf you can muster.

His indoor tennis court is in its own area of the house, the floor and walls are a black and white spiral that add to the trippy illusion of his entire home.

You’re both opposing a machine that is spitting out balls at you at the speed of fucking light. You haven’t done anything like this since highschool maybe, but for the most part you’ve kept up perfectly!

He’s impressed. Not to mention he keeps almost missing hits because of your dress barely covering you, and your jumping and moving around exposing more and more of yourself. He can’t help but get a little distracted.

*Smack!”

He gets a little closer to the middle at the same time that you dove for the ball and miss, and you start falling. You see the strange floor coming closer and hold your arms out to try and catch yourself, until it stops suddenly and you’re hanging there in the air.

He caught you in his arm, and threw away his racket to support you with his other.

He presses a button on his keyring, stopping the onslaught of balls, as you stare up at him, a growing warmth spreads across your face.

You’re both out of breath and bust out laughing now.

“Thanks! That was fun, really got my mind off… Stuff hah!” you say and look away while getting your barings back.

“you’re always welcome here. can i see your phone?” He asks while fixing his shirt. You hand it over, you had it in your bra, and pull it out without much thought, and when you turn back his pale face is red. “Ahem, uh just text when you wanna come over and give me a minute, i’ll most likely be ‘round” he coughs.

“Thanks so much Jasper! I really appreciate this!” excitedly, you thank him again.

~

“Where the fuck were you!?” Edward sprays spit as he fumes and interrogates you.

“I went for a walk…” You answer, and before you can say more he continues to barrage you.

“At this time of night!? are you fucking stupid?”

“No! I was just chilly on the deck, so i-”

“Why not just come back inside? Gods why did i marry a brainless fucking imbecile,”

“Sorry…” You try to end the argument, maybe if you just apologized you can get out of it.

“Prove it.”

Your brows knit, “Wh-what?”

“Prove. It. Are you that fucking stupid? on your knees.”

you swallow and get down, turning your head away from him, even though you know in your sickly feeling bones what’s coming.

“Look at me.”

Fuck… Don’t. regardless of you’re marriage, you hate that you’re turned on in this circumstance.

“Look. At. Me, Darling~” he fumes.

Begrudgingly, you look up, and give him your best smile, feeling like the sludge building up in your veins will spill out any second.

You love Edward… Yes.

~

He punched you that night, you don’t even remember why. Now you have to try and hide your black eye before the employees see. or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t sleep after that either… You were just dissociating and going in and out of waking night terrors that felt so real, as if all night he was tormenting you, while really, he simply slept next to you.

“Jasper, can I come ove—” you erase the text message almost as soon as you typed it. You probably shouldn’t even go outside in the sunlight with this shiner.

“Hey Y/N! hope you’re alright, what’s been up?” Jasper sends you a text that you don’t reply to… You don’t feel like it. Who even is he? just your neighbor that kinda flirts with you even though you’re married.

“Homewrecker!” You surprise yourself, and cover your mouth. Ops… You haven’t really spoken to anyone in at least a day.

You wait a few more days when at least the swelling is all down and the colour is almost a skin tone again, at least it isn’t purple anymore.

“Howdy Jasper! sorry i went on a mini vacation! what have you been up to?” You lie. You haven’t even left the sunroom except for the bathroom. Hopfully he just didn’t notice that you didn’t actually leave to go anywhere…

He did. He knows you’re lying too. You think he couldn’t see you through all those windows? Just because you have sheer curtains and we’re surrounded by big plants. He watched you.

He edged himself to you. Never letting himself actually cum.

He didn’t see your eye, but he knows something had to have happened, he just doesn’t know what.

Before he can reply you send another, “Actually can I just come over?” You decide to risk it. The makeup you ordered, and that came in yesterday, should cover the rest of it at this point at least.

Maybe you were a bit dramatic… All he did— No. We’re not going down any of those roads.

“Yes, I just cleaned up actually :)”

“Scared of me seeing your place a little messy?”

“Would you blame me?” You weren’t expecting that answer. You don’t know what you expected, but that answer just wasn’t on the list.

You hop over to hedges between your yards and don’t even look back as you pass through the gate. It latches behind you.

He answers the door as soon as you ring the bell, he must’ve been waiting right there! The thought makes your heart flutter.

“Hey Jasper!” You try to keep your eye out of direct sunlight until he lets you inside, and you feel like you can breathe again.

“Howdy neighbor! What’ll ya have to drink t’day?” He asks going to his retro looking fridge.

“I want what you’re having!” You pout a little, and he chuckles in response.

“You’re so cute,” he reaches into a drawer and pulls out two silver and pale blue cans.

While he’s reaching you notice something that looks like a splotch of blood on his side. You gasp, “Jasper! are you okay??”

“What? Why? ‘m fine?”

You rush over to him and point to the blood, you almost grabbed at his shirt to look for any injury, but managed to stop yourself, he’s still a stranger… kinda.

“Oh shit! jus’ a Second” he runs off presumably to change, so you sit at the bar, and admire his interesting design style.

i when he finally returns he’s in a black, even more ripped up shirt, that’s covered in safety pins, and has some metal looking band logo.

“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from” he laughs nervously.

You laugh, a brow raised in unspoken question, but move on, “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I have a pool—”

“No! Thank you, ahah, um sorry no thanks,” You apologize profusely for your outburst.

“You don’t gotta apologize, no pool, gotit,” he holds up a thumb and smirks with his head tilted, his black hair falls at an angle covering even more of his face. His teeth poke out like fangs over his pulled up lip.

Your face feels hot, “Okay, sorry,”

He lightly laughs, “I have a few gaming setups, and a PlayStation”

“Okay! I don’t really know any games you’ll have to teach me! is that okay?”

His grin widens, almost too excitedly, but you’re excited too, so you think nothing of it.

He picks a shooter first, you can’t even keep your head in a forward position, you keep aiming either up in the air or down at your feet. Before you start to actually get frustrated, Jasper scoots closer on the couch, and puts his hand over yours on the controller.

His thumb gently guides yours up and foreword, his body brushes up next to you.

You feel hotter in this proximity, and his hand is warmer than the other night, but still chilled. His long, slim fingers are pale with black nails and a few silver rings.

You feel his breath in your hair and turn your head, accidentally putting your lips right in front of his, you both look speedily at each others, and then up into each other’s eyes.

Pale, icy cold blue orbs stare deeply into you. He licks his lip.

You stand up too quickly and get slight vertigo, “S-sorry! I forgot I had some-things to do today! Um, Groceries! yes. ahem. bye!”

“Y/N.” Something in the sound of his voice freezes you to your bones, you don’t quite turn to look, but you turn to show you’re listening. “What happened to your eye?” He asks.

[thatnonameuser]

If two yandere are in a relashionship would they see their other as an equal or force the title of darling upon them?

Surpringly, it's actually a very healthy-unhealthy relationship.

If two yanderes are in love with each other, then they'll be completely dependent on each other like the most toxic of leeches, but they'll both be completely happy with one another.

Darling and darling relationships are actually very similar to yandere and yandere relationships, except for two major differences. Yandere relationships will never end, and the couple will never fall out of love.

While all yanderes are different, their relationships are actually quite wholesome. think Morticia and Gomez, or Fester and Debbie if the couple is has a sadistic or manipulative and an obsessive. They'll kill for each other, die for each other, and live for each other.

The roles of partners vary from family to family, as yanderes love their partners more than anything. Some might want to work, others stay at home, but they have mature conversations about these things like a normal couple.

The only couple problems are made out of jealousy, for example a coworker being too close, they'll argue about it, but after they’ll spend a romantic evening burying that homewrecker in a shallow grave.

Some other things they do are 'kidnapping staycations' where one partner is kidnapped so that the yandere can get some 'alone with darling time'. Or little murder trips on the TWST version of Valentine's Day to get rid of the homewreckers threatening their love.

Their kids, yanderes and darlings, will also be affected by this kind of relationship. Yanderes will, without a doubt, believe that this kind of life is what they should search for every moment of their lives. Darlings will be raised to be willing partners, fueled by their parents' love, thinking that this kind of life won't be so bad.

But to add:

A yandere loving a yandere with a darling of their own can also happen. In that case, a polycule is established with the yandere allowing their yandere-darling to have their darling if it means they'll be a willing partner back to the yandere. While there is more jealousy, they can navigate it together, after all two yanderes are happy and one out of two darlings are willing, it's perfect.

[cheesus-doodles]

A Friend In Me: Chapter 4

Yandere Platonic Toman

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Chapters 1 | 2‎ | 3

Masterlist

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my usual pink line divide no longer works because it messes with the tags ;^; have this divider from angelfire instead

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The world around Mikey came to a standstill. His ears buzzed with static, unable to process anything as his mind raced. In a sole instant, everything clicked together as if an incomplete puzzle finally being solved, and the Tokyo Manji Gang president could see the full picture, though the surprise at this revelation never made it to reflect in those abyss eyes. 

It made sense now, the blond-haired boy mused, watching the other five Toman founders burst into action in slow motion around him. He understood. Why you were attracted to two fighting delinquents instead of beating a hasty retreat like everyone else when you first met them, why you never seemed bothered by them turning up with small splatters of blood on their disheveled uniforms, why you could so effectively patch up injuries. You had never divulged or discussed your home life nor your childhood with them, and he had never bothered pressing you for details. Because why would he, when all evidence pointed to you living alone and having always lived alone? Having followed you home countless times to an empty house, you were always alone at all times of the day. No laundry or carelessly strewn clothes to be found, no closed or locked room that indicated another resident in your home. Even the pictures that decorated the walls and your bedrooms have always just been you and them.

“Hey!” From behind Mikey came a shout from Mitsuya, quickly followed by the telltale sounds of a tussle between the Toman Vice President and the Second Division Captain over you in the middle. “Don’t pull like that!”

You had grown up beside a delinquent. Your older brother whom you had never cared to mention was himself a fearsome and borderline insane delinquent - they had doubetlessly heard of Madarame Shion’s brutality and his supposed involvement in underworld crimes even before their paths crossed. Of course nothing they did would surprise or scare you if this was the normal behavior you were exposed to all your life. 

Abyss eyes turned to take in the expression on your face, the horror at what was happening slowly settling into your swollen eyes even as tears continued to streak down flush cheeks. Yet, all it took was the merest exposure to what was the normalcy of any delinquent’s life for you to break down - a telling-off, a by-far bloodless fight, nothing that would raise the eyebrow of a seasoned onlooker really. So how much did you really know? Did you know of their previous clash with Shion and the ninth generation of Black Dragons back when from the founding of Toman? He doubted it - your reaction to them after their fight would have been a lot stronger if you did. But most importantly, why didn’t you tell them earlier about having an older sibling?

A muffled shout from your still-connected call to your disgrace-of-a-delinquent older brother was enough to draw Mikey’s attention back to the current situation at hand, though he all but ignored whatever that goon had to say. No, you couldn’t know, he determined, because if you did, you would clearly see that they had no reason to fear a shithead like Shion. They had beaten him and his gang once already, what was a second time? But he could get the answers out of you later, once you were safe and away from this mess. For now, the Toman President mused, as time returned to its usual speed and the world exploded back into its full chaotic state, there were more important things to settle.

The mere thought of possibly losing you to this black-haired homewrecker you called Koko, or even worse, the loser of an older brother that they have already beaten to a pulp once; his heart raced. He couldn’t accept it. These weak-willed losers couldn’t be allowed to win him, especially not in a matter as important as this. 

Pivoting around, your watery eyes were helplessly fixed on the brawl going down right in front of you, phone clutched in a white-knucked grip. This was all for your own good. He was just protecting you from the wider world, the Toman President tried to convince himself, his slippered feet starting its ominous route towards the brawling four, his hands tucked almost casually into the pockets of his school pants. Your eyes immediately snapping to him and your lips falling apart as you watched him move.

Not because Mikey needed your support and your attention; no, he didn’t need you as much as you needed him. He was strong, the unshakable pillar of the Tokyo Manji Gang, not soft and weak and a crybaby like you. His heart wasn’t aching at the mere thought of never being able to see you again, never having you pamper and lavish him with attention and love and filling the hole in his heart - the palpitations was from excitement, the itch to fight and drive away the enemies of his friends.

He was the Invincible Mikey, and now more than ever, he needed to make sure that everyone knew why.

‎‎

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Ninth Generation Black Dragon President. You heard Koko loud and clear right before the momentary tranquility went straight to hell once more, but now you could barely think amidst the cacophony. Individually, the words made sense, yet strung together, it became incoherent to your spinning mind. Too many, too much. Watching Baji once more take aim at the opposing delinquent, you staggered a step forward, your heart urging you to take action; do something, do anything. Before someone gets hurt again. 

You were yanked back before you could take another step, vaguely registering Draken’s voice snapping at you but nothing registering in your mind. Fixated on the fight going on its second round, the white of Inui’s uniform, combined with his sunflower-blond hair, seemed to almost glimmer in the sunlight as it caught your eye, and the memories you had long lost to the back of your mind came surging back to the front. You had seen that uniform before, having washed and scrubbed the blood from the white fabric before Shion moved out. It’s happening. Again. Any control you felt you had left over your own life was slipping through your fingers once more; the way of your life that you had so painstakingly built, the personality you had so carefully tailored, everything was falling apart in front of your eyes. All over again.

Those stunned expressions you just saw simply couldn’t be faked, you knew instinctively, not with how all of them wore the same look on their faces. For reasons beyond you, everyone present all knew your older brother, and vice versa. They all hated each other, and you were caught right in the middle. How could you have known that the only friends you had knew of and hated each other? What more could you have done? What could you have done differently?

Maybe you should have heeded Mikey’s and the other’s warnings about Koko. Maybe if you hadn’t gone looking for that CB250T. If you hadn’t-

Every breath became heavier and heavier, faster and faster, and you struggled to fill your lungs, the air sludgy and thick. The world around you was all too much. Too loud. You couldn’t-

A fresh pair of arms enveloped you, and you were pulled into a tight hug. “Breathe.”

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, your body shuddering as the atmosphere instantly thinned out. You gulped down as much oxygen as you could, your sweating palms glistening in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Are you alright?” Mitsuya’s voice was calm, soft, those calloused hands gently running through your hair as he bodily blocked you from the fight that was occurring just a stone’s throw away.

Unable to speak, you simply nodded, wiping your fist on your shirt. I’m fine, you mouthed, though you knew that Mitusya knew it was a lie, your skin having turned several tones lighter from the lack of air. But you had other more important things to concern yourself with (at least in your view), as you attempted to look over your friend’s mob of purple hair. What had you missed? 

“Relax,” the Toman founder tried to convince you, resting one hand atop your head yet not forcing you down by any means despite Draken’s annoyed ‘tch’ from behind you, where he continued to hold on to you tightly. “Let them handle it.” 

Let them handle it? Giving a shaky glance you hoped was reassuring at Mitsuya, you turned your attention back to the fight, right as Kazutora broke past Inupi’s defense, his fist outstretched and jealous anger fully directed at Koko.

In a single blink, you broke free from both Draken and Mitsuya’s grip, your long strides closing the distance between you and Koko. “Tory, stop!”

‎

‎

The last thing Koko expected was to see you flying towards him, putting your decidedly much more fragile self between him and the Toman founder.

”Fuck- Watch out!” 

An exceptionally hard yank from Koko had both you and him flying backwards, but the loud smack of a fist into the back of your head as the two of you fell towards the ground was unmistakable. His gut dropped. Damn it. Too late. Landing with an oof on the hard ground and you atop him, the infamous financier could hardly acknowledge the ache of his back, not while his thoughts were focused solely on you. “Are you alright?” What on earth were you thinking? He wasn’t exactly a delinquent but he sure as hell could take, if not dodge, a hit better than you - he just preferred standing behind others.

You winced, rubbing what should be a forming sore spot where you were hit. “I’m fine,” you assured, the momentary crinkle of your forehead as you carefully shifted tilted your head telling otherwise, though it was quick to evaporate as the realization of who cushioned your fall hit you. You scrambled to stand, but you were instantly tackled to the ground once more by a bawling Toman founder with black and yellow hair and nearly falling over again - Kazutora, if Koko remembered correctly.

”I- I-“ Barely able to speak, your own injury was forgotten as you instantly shifted to attempt to soothe the wailing boy with an undeserved gentleness. “I hit-”

”I’m fine, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure. “It barely touched me.” It was obviously the wrong thing to say, your voice quickly drowned out as Kazutora only cried harder, burying his face into your shirt, fists clenching bundles of your school shirt. 

Koko could only watch on as you caught his gaze, returning an apologetic one of your own as you did your best to soothe the bawling delinquent - a sight that he never thought he would witness. He did already have a good idea of what your self-proclaimed Toman friends were like, having been forewarned about how protective they were of you (some of your stories truly did raise an eyebrow or two). And sure, Inupi had whirled around at his alarmed shout with what should be an intent to help, but his attention had been forced back to the fight on hand almost instantaneously when Baji had attempted to take advantage of his momentary distraction to go in for a sweep; it's not as if his friend didn’t care at all. But expecting to have to throw hands was one thing, understandable even, given how he would be associated with Inupi and thus the Black Dragons, but this level of attachment? Were all these waterworks even real?

A set of footsteps stomping in his direction had the notorious financier look up, and straight at the Toman’s Vice Captain towering over him. But the other’s ire surprisingly wasn’t directed at him, and instead, you were bodily lifted by the front of your shirt, forcing Kazutora off of you right before you were shaken like a stuck salt shaker. “What the hell were you thinking?! That was insane!”

“I’m alright-” You barely got two words out before being cut off again.

“YOU ARE NOT OKAY,” bellowed back an uncharacteristically furious Draken, and you threw both hands up in surrender even as you continued to be shaken around like a martini.  “YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN HURT. OR KILLED!”

Kazutora only started to cry harder at his words, babbling incoherently as he tried to latch onto your legs.

At least the Toman Third Division Captain was on your side, stepping between a furious Vice Captain and you and prying you free with little effort. “You’re making it worse,” Pah said simply, echoing Mitsuya’s earlier words.

‎

“-ey! HEY! ” The vague screams of Shion echoed out from beneath you, alerting you, Koko and everyone else to the fact that you had yet to hang up on your previous call. Fishing around beneath you where your phone had most likely fallen earlier on, your older brother’s frankly annoying shrieking was finally noticed, now that the general mayhem had died down. 

And much to Koko’s annoyance, you visibly stiffened upon hearing Shion once more, like a bolt of lightning ran up your spine, and you bent over to gingerly pick up your dropped phone. He hated seeing you scared of someone as useless as Shion, a scumbag even Inupi wasn’t impressed with. If he could make your problem disappear, he would in a blink. Not that this would be right time to tell you this. 

The clash of delinquents had long driven off any last soul left that tried to wander down this street, the road deserted of passerbys of any kind. Even the wind had long died down, and Koko hastily dabbed away the sweat forming along his upper lip. “Ah, nii-san-” You mumbled out under your breath, though that was most likely more to remind yourself who you were dealing with on the other end.

“FUCKING FINALLY! YOU GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!” 

Deflated, you looked defeated at your older brother’s orders, your shoulders slumping over. “I-”

But Shion was not done. “AND DROP THOSE TOMAN FUCKS, UNDERSTAND?”

And that was apparently where the former Black Dragon President crossed the line. In a blink, your phone disappeared from your grip as if by magic. You barely had time to react, the small, outdated electronic now clutched tightly in Mikey’s white-knuckled grip, a speed that took even Koko by surprise. When did he get that? Where did he even come from?

“I’ll kill you,” the threat from the Toman President was loud and clear, the sheer rage burning behind those empty eyes enough to have even Koko recoil. “You try anything funny, and I’ll kill you, right here, right now.”

A snort. “Try it, motherfu-”

‎

It was a loud crack, followed by a small fizzle, an unremarkable show that marked the untimely end to your device as Mikey crushed the phone underfoot without an afterthought. Your jaw dropped. Koko estimated you must have lost the equivalent of several months of work in one inconsiderate move. 

Not that the Toman lowlives you called friends knew, of course, seemingly failing to notice you staring on speechlessly as Baji proceeded to grind the heel of his foot into the electronic device, spitting curses probably meant for your brother. You no doubt knew full-well by now that they were pissed to hell and back, both at Shion and at him, but did they have to take this out on your poor, defenseless phone?

A shove from Mitsuya quickly broke Baji’s rampage. “Stop that!” The purple-haired boy scolded, as he pushed the other Toman founder away, earning himself an irritated “Huh?!” from the First Division Captain, though that did little to scare Mitsuya. “You’re making it worse!”

The breaking of your phone was of relative insignificance to Koko at least, watching you dejectedly shuffle forward to pick up the broken pieces of the devices to stuff back into your pocket; the short tranquility he got now from the previous chaos was worth the cost to replace it for you at a later date. Even better, he could get you a nicer model, something pretty and slick and get into your good books, perhaps convince you to get an additional number that only he would have? That would definitely put him ahead of the Toman boys, at the very least.

“Hey.” A short shuffle, and Koko looked up, his eyes instantly focusing on your outstretched hand.

Inupi had long stepped aside, not eager to be pulled back into this particular lover’s squabble, those blue eyes content with observing as the Toman founders were once more embroiled in pointless arguments once more. Complete with threats of violence and withholding of lunches, it was Mistuya this time that was caught in the middle, attempting to scold both Mikey and Baji with backing from Draken. 

You, though, had turned your attention instead to him. “Are you alright?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the other loud voices. Even with all that happened, you hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Ye, I’m fine,” Koko assured. “Just a bit sore.”

Yet as he reached out to accept your offer of help, it was a sudden recognition of the situation he put himself in that rang in his ears and rattled his mind; the sensation much as if he was waking from a trance the black-haired boy hadn’t even realized he was in. Widened almond eyes met yours, the realization lighting up dilated pupils: if he had known any better, you would have been the last person he would ever want to court, let alone be in any sort of relationship with, coming laden with so much baggage. Anyone would be insane to want to be involved with a walking spark like you.

Alas, the sensation was momentary, and the thought of letting you slip away from him - letting someone Koko cared about be stolen away from him again - was accompanied immediately by a heart-throbbing sense of loss that came surging from his gut. Could he truly live without you to fill the hole in his heart? More importantly, did he dare to attempt to? 

Too lost in his thoughts, it was a subconscious catch of movement in the corner of his eye that snapped Koko out from his inner turmoil. It was of course you, though the disappointment was already written on your face as you began to pull away and straighten up, words tumbling free from pressed lips. “Ah- I’m glad,” you muttered, starting to turn away from him. “Hopefully it doesn’t hurt bad.”

How long had he been trapped thinking in real world time? Long enough for you to notice his hesitation, at the very least. Panic now kicking his reaction back into high gear, Koko all but threw himself after your now-retreating hand, catching it just centimeters away from where it had been, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. “Thanks,” was all his heavy tongue could stutter out, the black-haired boy trying desperately to pretend that nothing had happened as he pulled himself up, taking care to rely as little as possible on you. You said nothing, but the upturn of your lips told him everything he needed to know. You didn’t even pull away from him when he had surreptitiously intertwined his fingers with yours, quietly pulling both your hands behind him so the others couldn’t see.

See? There was no doubt - you wanted to be with him. The little moment however didn’t last long, as Koko forced himself to focus back on the issue at hand. He had to solve this issue before they could take you away from him. He couldn’t lose everything again. Wrecking his brain, the solution that Koko arrived at was surprisingly simple. 

Money. 

It was money that could have saved Akane, so maybe money could save you too? That was it. Money. Money could solve everything, couldn’t it? “How much?” Koko found himself blurting out before he could stop himself. Those two words were enough to dumbfounded everyone there, with eight pairs of eyes turning to stare at Koko. Were they really that surprised? Or just waiting for an offer?

“A hundred thousand yen,” the black-haired boy clarified. And he didn’t need to clarify what he was saying - a hundred thousand yen for them to give you to him. He didn’t want to fight, he was barely interested in being a delinquent as it is. All he wanted was you, no matter the cost. “I’ll give you a hundred thousand yen.” 

“What?” You were the first to speak, your slack jaw and furrowed eyebrows sending a throb through his chest. Damn, was his offer too low? You were priceless of course - no matter how vast Koko’s fortune was, you would always be unattainable - so were you going to think that he was being cheap? That you were only worth so little in his eyes?

Even Inupi had raised an eyebrow at his named price, and though the surprise was written all over his usual stoic expression, the blond-haired boy said nothing.

But before he could try and revise his offer, to make sure you knew just how much Koko was ready to spend on you, it seemed his words finally set in in the others’ much slower minds. “Do you think we’re just going to sell-” The vein bulged prominently on Baji’s forehead as he once more lunged forward, and would have reached his target if not for Mitsuya grabbing the back of his shirt. “You son of a bitch!”

“How fucking dare you?!” Kazutora snarled, and Koko braced himself for another fight as the duo-colored delinquent made to pull away from you.

‎

‎

“Honestly why is it everytime there’s a ruckus, it’s always you, Mikey?” A new voice sighed out from behind Koko, catching all present by surprise. Those abyss eyes were an exact carbon copy of the Tokyo Manji Gang President’s, though the man that they belonged to was one that Koko was thankfully still on rather good terms with. “Can yall at least keep it away from my shop? Bad for business and all.”

By now, the once clear sky had filled up with clouds that blocked most of the light from the afternoon sun, the oppressing heat somewhat dissipating as the breeze picked up once more.

From where you were at the center of the mess, your ears perked up as if a dog recognized the word ‘snack’. “O-oji-san?” You sniffled a little, though you quickly pulled yourself together, rubbing your nose on your forearm. Eyes, though red and swollen, were now dry.

“I’m not that old!” Shinichiro froze right as the words left his lips, blinking as he stared back at you, the gears very clearly turning behind his eyes as he took in the entire scene that had unfolded right in front of his shop. “Oh,” the man mumbled, as if all the puzzle pieces had just fallen into place, gaze turning from you to Mikey before landing on Inupi and Koko. A pause, and he sighed, resting one hand on his hip. “It’s you, huh?”

Kazutora shuffled protectively in front of you in an attempt to hide your figure from the older man’s view, your arm interlocked tightly with his as he glared back. “You staring?” The sandy-brown eyed boy demanded, puffing up his chest the same way a cat poofed up its fur, a 180 from his childlike state just minutes earlier, the tears now all gone as he scowled at the newest entry.

This, however, only earned him a whack to the back of his head by Draken, after which the boy deflated. “That’s Mikey’s older brother, dipshit.”

Shinichiro seemed to barely notice the small squabble taking place, his hand dipping into his pocket to withdraw a small, slightly crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sliding the stick into his mouth and lighting up, the older man took a long inhale, his voice slightly raspy as he spoke. “So,” he started, looking at Mikey. “This is the buddy you’ve been telling me about?”

Yet before Mikey could answer the rhetorical question, Shinichiro had already turned to Koko. “And also your little birdie?”

“No.” “No.” Both Mikey and Baji snapped irritably together in response to the second question, with Baji seemingly just a hair’s breadth away from flying straight at Koko once more, his fist clenching with anticipation.

“He,” Baji very pointedly hissed out, sharp yellow eyes glaring across the aisle at Koko. “Needs to stay away.”

You meekly shuffled your feet, your eyes turned down towards the ground as your Toman friends turned on cue to shoot you a stink eye. Ah. Caught breaking the rules again. “Koko’s just a friend,” you offered weakly, though it didn’t seem to convince anyone. 

Koko could only feel the growing pit at the base of his gut as Inupi threw a similarly dirty look his way, though the sunflower-blond Black Dragon member still raised his pipe in defense. Fuck. To be fair to him, Koko reasoned internally, he hadn’t known about your ties to the Tokyo Manji Gang back when he was standing outside Inupi’s door in the rain, but he did casually fail to mention it even after he knew. Now that it was out in the open, there wasn’t really anything more he could say.

Shinichiro let out yet another ragged sigh as he took another breath, exhaling the smoke into a column that hung lazily in the still, humid air before speaking again, this time his words directed at you. “And you’re related to the Ninth Generation Black Dragon President? The one that Toman bea- OW!”

You were slightly confused at Mikey’s sudden move to stomp on Shinichiro’s foot, the abrupt sentence stop only leaving you to wonder. Was Shinichiro trying to say something that Mikey didn’t like? Shrugging it off as something you wouldn’t be able to find out anyway, the side eyes sent Shinichiro’s way were hard to miss. “Madarame is my nii-san,” you nodded, reaching down to gently touch the remnants of your phone jiggling in your pocket. “He moved out from our family home years ago, but it seems like he’s back today for some reason.”

Hopping around the pavement, the man’s expression was twisted in pain radiating from his bruised foot, with Mikey still scowling at his own older brother. “Ah, i-in that case,” Shinichiro managed to grit out as he shuffled back to lean against the glass windows of his shop. “You should go home and see what he wants.”

That turned out to be a highly unpopular opinion, and the disagreement your friends felt necessary to voice was made obvious even with the respect the delinquents had for Shinichiro, Mikey being the loudest in his protest. 

“No!” “Absolutely not.” “Are you crazy?!” “NO!” The torrent of disagreements were certainly surprising to you, and you blinked owly as you were physically pulled further away from Shinichiro, as if the older man was going to personally rip you away from your friends and bring you home.

Shinichiro, however, was undeterred by the outburst that half the neighborhood must have heard, waving his arms downwards in an attempt to restore the peace, waiting for the chaos to die down before continuing, his smoking cigarette lightly gripped between two fingers. “As I was saying, you should go home and see what Shion wants first, since he is your older brother. And then Mikey and your friends can meet you after. I’ll settle things here and then send them over, alright?”

It was phrased as if it was a suggestion, but there was no negotiation to be had. Now that Shinichiro was present, he was in charge. 

You seemed hesitant, but ultimately agreed. That did make sense to you, given that if Shion was planning to move back home, there were arrangements that would have to be made, and changes in your schedule. And with how much your older brother and Toman seemed to already hate each other, it would be better to allow tempers to diffuse before combining both halves of your life. “Alright, I’ll head home first.”

“What if she isn’t safe at home, Shinichiro-san?” Draken pointed out, his arms crossed, Pah nodding sagely along, joined by the frantic bubbling and wailing from Kazutora, who had done another u-turn from badass delinquent to bubbling and wailing mess, attached to your side like superglue and refusing to let go.

Mitsuya straightened out your school uniform for you, a more levelheaded presence though still physically blocking any view you had of Koko further down the street. “Are you going to be safe?”

You paused, your head cocking as you considered what Mitsuya was asking, before slowly nodding. “Madarame-nii won’t hurt me,” you tried to assure, though you didn’t sound very confident yourself. “I should be fine.”

“They won’t be long here,” Shinichiro promised, grabbing Mikey by the back of his shirt as said boy attempted to make a break for you, before he turned to almost effortlessly snag Kazutora in the exact same manner.

Koko’s heart sank when you turned away from him, but with Shinichiro’s stronger-than-it-looked hand resting on his shoulder, Inupi was already distancing himself from the Toman boys, all he could do was watch you say your goodbyes to your Toman friends before disappearing round the bend, with no say on whether he would ever be able to see you again. Maybe, maybe all he needed was more money.

‎

‎

Fourteen years in the future, the atmosphere that blanketed the headquarters of the feared Tokyo Manji Gang syndicate was not too dissimilar to the delicate yet weighty tension outside of Shinichiro’s shop. It was by every account a gorgeous day outside, the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and catching in the gold trimmings of each and every fitting of the opulent home. Yet, the hallways of the penthouse were unusually empty of the usual black-tie suited gangsters and guards and the like that usually teemed this area, the deafening silence weighing down what was the epitome of luxury. But it was hardly a concerning issue to Kisaki as he stalked down the wide corridors, casting a shadow on the priceless art and other masterpieces as he swept past, the crystals that decorated the chandeliers hanging above chiming lightly as they jingled with the air conditioning. After all, he did know why everyone had been sent away, and he did hold a very slight responsibility for the cause.

His destination was at the end of the corridor, a simple white door fitted into wallpapered walls that stood out like a sore thumb amidst the lavishness, a curse from a different time that continued to haunt both him and Mikey. Because it wasn’t just the door that was a specter from the past, Kisaki knew. The sole rap on the door was a courtesy, and the suited man didn’t wait for a response to enter.

The room he stepped into looked ripped straight from a common suburban home, unfitting for a multimillion dollar house right in the heart of Tokyo, even less so for a yakuza boss with the entire underground world at his fingertips. Simple painted walls, a hardwood flooring, and well-worn furniture that had seen better days, things that Kisaki wouldn’t even give a second glance yet things that would get him shot between his eyes if his fingers lingered on them for a second too long. “Mikey,” Kisaki greeted, cutting a straight path to the single armchair turned to face away from the entrance.

There was no response from said man, abyss eyes staring blankly out clear, streakless windows into the open sky, though his gaze did turn to meet Kisaki’s as the door swung close with a soft click, the dragon tattoo decorating his scrawny neck contrasting greatly with his pale skin. A sky-high view of the city skyline worthy of the sky-high price, but again, not what he was here for. 

The Toman second-in-command held up a sheaf of papers, his other hand pushing up his glasses. “Need your sign-off on these.” It was rare for him to have to do such menial tasks as delivering paperwork - that is the sole purpose he pays for Mikey to have a dedicated secretary - but with it being this time of the year again, the reports were once more starting to be returned unsigned and unread.

Yet for all the effort Kisaki undertook to come here in person, it meant nothing to Mikey, the yakuza boss simply ignoring whatever his right-hand man had to say as he turned his gaze back out the window once more. The spectacled man tried again, taking a step closer. “Mikey,” he insisted, hand reaching out in an attempt to pass on the papers on hand. 

But it was the distinctive click of a gun’s safety being switched off that had Kisaki retract his hand as if burnt, the anger that had sparked in those usually empty eyes clear as Mikey swung around to glare at him. Throwing both arms up in surrender and under the other’s deadly scowl, he backed away slightly; an inch closer, and those reports would have brushed against the delicate decades-old fabric of the armchair. Your armchair. 

That heavy pressure was palpable as the silence weighed on the passing time. A heartbeat, then two. “What?” The biker gang president-turned-mafioso finally growled out, voice hoarse from lack of use - it must have been at least a week since he last spoke, Kisaki noted.

”Your sign-off.”

”No.”

Kisaki let out an exasperated sigh. “Mikey-“

”No,” Mikey repeated. “Leave.” And that was that, with said man refusing to look at him a moment longer, flopping back down into his armchair limply, the momentary energy from a rush of adrenaline dissipated back into the cocktail of depression and drugs the former delinquent had been indulging in.

There was nothing more that the second-in-command could do but to obey and leave. But he did understand the reason behind Mikey’s foul mood - it was just about a month out from both Shinichiro’s and your death anniversary, after all, even if both events were several years apart. Pausing at the threshold of the room, Kisaki used the moment it took to open the door to subtly glance around; it was rare that he ever had the chance to see the inside of this room. 

After all, the ghost that still haunted them was you. 

This was, or had been, your room, with every last item and detail having been painstakingly removed, transported and reinstalled when the yakuza boss had finally been convinced to relocate from what had been your home in the suburb for his own safety. That armchair, your bed and covers that Mikey still sleeps in, the wooden floor panels and the old plastered walls and ceilings. Even this blasted door which formally served as your bedroom door. It was all you. 

And your death hadn’t even been planned. Sure the spectacled man knew of your existence, but you had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had been caught up in an attack meant for another.

Carefully closing the door behind him, Kisaki shook his head, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The once strongman of Toman, the invincible delinquent, could conquer anything he set out to - the spiral into crime, the murder of his former friends, the whole of the Japan underground world. Yet twelve years on, Mikey just couldn’t let you go, long after you had breathed your last breath and torn the entire Toman apart.

The good thing was that at least Kisaki doesn’t exactly need the Toman boss’ approval to get things done around here; it’s far easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

‎

‎

Back fourteen years in the past, you hardly had the time to worry about what time would eventually bring to your doorstep, knee-deep in your current problems. The moon hung mockingly high in the sky as you closed the door gently behind you, tweaking the knob slightly as it latched back into place to stop its usual click. Your efforts, however, were in vain, and you froze as the all-too distinctive sound echoed through the otherwise silent night. Carefully pressing one ear against the wooden front door, you held your breath, waiting to hear that distinct stomping of feet  down the stairs in your pursuit and the roar of your name.

The past weeks have been nothing short of hell. With your older brother Madarame temporarily moving back into your family home, it went without saying that you were no longer permitted to see your Toman friends going forward, let alone have them come over. Biting your lip, you would simply agree and say nothing more, careful to tread on eggshells around the volatile boy. With how closely your older brother has been monitoring your every move, you hadn’t dared to step out of line - you did previously have a front row seat as to what happened to the people around you the last time you dared to openly disobey.

Yet time and time again, it was Mikey and the others that persisted in swinging round to pick you up in the evenings against your brother’s orders in the one and half week since the fight, exactly as Shinichiro had predicted, even doing several very loud donuts that your neighbors would not appreciate outside your house just to make sure that Shion knew they were there. To your surprise, it was your brother who has done nothing more than scowl at you running out to meet them from the window like a disapproving mother before disappearing into the house, failing to even bring up your cheeky escapades the day after. Him and the Toman founders definitely weren’t on speaking terms, you determined, but there was more to it that either party was willing to say.

But all this was far from your concern at the moment. 

Tonight was one of those rare nights: with your brother fast asleep in his bed instead of out and prowling the streets, and the mobs of various-colored hair were nowhere to be seen lounging along your street, busy with a gang meet at Musashi Shrine. A rare chance to take advantage of this extraordinary situation where you have finally been left alone for just a small window of time. That is, as long as you didn’t get caught first - and your brother would 100% tattle on you to your friends if it would get you in more trouble.

The summertime heat was already in full-force by now at the start of August, and though the blazing temperature has at least cooled somewhat with the absence of the sun from the night sky, the humidity had yet to let up. Beads of perspiration that dotted your forehead trailed their way down your forehead as you waited, your heartbeat racing with every second ticking by. Was this it? 

A minute passed. Then two. And the inside of your house remained as quiet as the dead of night, the peace of your neighborhood unbroken. Heaving a sigh of relief, you quickly turned heel, fleeing down the lifeless main street before taking a corner at the first alley, coming face to face with a familiar grinning face waiting for you under the flickering light of a weary streetlamp. “Took you long enough,” Koko chuckled, both hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. 

“That’s not very nice!” You tried your best to put up an indignant front, but the facade collapsed into a wide grin too quickly for any part of it to be taken seriously. “Did I keep you waiting long, Koko? Sorry ‘bout that.”

The black-haired boy waved off your apologies, pulling himself up from the wall he had been leaning against. “Nah, it’s just been a few minutes,” he admitted. Offering a hand to you, you were glad to accept, gently intertwining your fingers with his as he led you through the dark alleyway, your duo’s footsteps barely echoing amidst the silent residential buildings. “Any place in mind?”

You shook your head. “Didn’t think about it cause I know you do.”

“Ah.”

You laughed as Koko rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. You did know him well enough to assume otherwise. Letting out a hum, you allowed the other to tug you closer to his side, to which you responded by resting your head on his shoulder. “So where are we going?”

If you could be honest with yourself for a moment, Koko was the breath of fresh air you had been looking for. It was a truly ungrateful feeling to harbor, especially towards your Toman boys who had been the ones to take you in and accept you as a friend, but he was an escape from the constant neediness and possessiveness. You did love them dearly, really, but sometimes it all just got too much for you, with the final straw being that particular incident outside of Shinichiro’s shop; you had never been frightened of Mikey or Baji or the others before, yet seeing them snap before your eyes at another that you held dear to you - it was all too much, on top of having to deal with new tension at home.

All you wanted was to be able to hang out with a friend you made yourself, someone you didn’t have to give constant attention to. A friend who wouldn’t put you on a pedestal.

“There’s a nice karaoke place in town,” Koko replied almost absentmindedly, his well-gelled hair bobbing slightly as it caught the occasional light as the two of you stepped out of the alleyway and back onto a main street. ��We can take the train there.”

Your mind immediately thought to the last round your Toman boys had invited you to karaoke with them, the session ending with you having to cool heads when they started bickering about whose turn it was with the mic. “That’s a good idea,” you nodded. Those places were open pretty late, right? Plus a private room would make it a lot harder to get caught.

‎

The area the two of you ended up in was a location slightly outside of town, which you recognized as not being too far from Shinichiro’s shop - the now-closed small convenience store was the same one that Mikey had been dragging you past just two weeks earlier. This was definitely a more uptown area compared to where the bike shop was, you noted, the stores though all closed at this hour were steadily getting larger and more luxurious the further you and Koko strolled down deserted streets.

“It’s so quiet,” you found yourself musing out loud, earning a soft exhale from the other. 

You rarely venture to this part of Tokyo City, it being well out of your usual sphere of life with good reason, though even with the handful of visits under your belt, the difference between day and night was still starkly visible. A flood of business suits and their occupants busy on the phone, with the rare occasional student weaving their way through the crowd, these streets were hardly catered to a younger audience, the prices well out of the range of what any student could afford, and you would assume the same, even more so in fact at night. The last thing you would expect to find here would be a karaoke, but perhaps you simply missed it before.

“This way,” Koko tugged you through an unassuming door, tucked neatly between two shopfronts and one you would have completely glazed over. Up a dimly lit stairway and with a light knock from your friend, the well-worn steel door opened to reveal a backdrop of high ceilings and a chandelier, framing an elegantly-dressed lady ushering the two of you in, the door swinging shut behind you with a quiet click. You felt your jaw dragging across the floor, eyes glancing around and taking in as much as you could. What even was this place?

Shiny, polished granite floors sparkled with specks of yellow reflected from the dim lights above, the walls trimmed tastefully with gold and decorated with flourished wallpapers. The crystal vase in which an enormous bouquet of flowers had been professionally arranged, atop a spotless dark wood counter, combined with the staff here wearing full suits, was all rather intimidating.

Vaguely noting Koko saying something to the lady who had welcomed you at the door, his words blending into the soft classical background music, you were only grounded by the fact that your hand was still laced with his as you shrunk shyly behind him. Needless to say, you felt extremely out-of-place, dressed in nothing more than your usual outing attire having expected a simple date. Were they going to kick you out?

Not just yet fortunately, as you were led down a velvet-walled hallway instead, lined with doors that ran the entire length, before being ushered into the room right at the end. Koko had stepped into the booth first, holding the door open as you quickly followed suit, and much to your relief, the inside looked similar enough to a regular karaoke room. Letting out a sigh of relief, you settled on the sofa, patting the area next to you. “I thought it was going to be so different,” you admitted, snuggling in close to Koko as he sat down next to you. “The outside looks so fancy.”

Said boy laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over to grab two microphones off their stands. “I thought it would be better since it's unlikely you’ll be found here.” By your Toman friends, that is.

“Not that I don’t like it,” you hastily added, accepting the device from Koko. “It’s lovely, thank you. And I doubt they know this place even exists.”

“No way,” the financier rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from you. That goes without saying. “Come on, pick a song, I’ll order us some drinks.”

‎

Time slipped through your fingers, the minutes flying by without your notice. Though you barely had a sip of alcohol (Koko refused to let you have any more than a taste of his cocktail), you were sure that you were giddy enough from giggling the entire time. 

”I still can’t believe you managed to nail that song!” You laughed out, lightly tapping on the black-haired boy’s arm as you carefully stepped across the curb. “I sounded completely off, I swear.”

“No way,” Koko disagreed, a tinge of red brushed across both cheeks as his gaze fell away from yours, though from the alcohol or otherwise, you couldn’t quite tell. He has had several drinks, after all. “You were great.”

Definitely the alcohol, you mused to yourself, squeezing his hand lightly as you gracefully ignored his voice trailing-off. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight, Koko.” And you meant it - with everything that had been going on at home and with the Toman boys, you truly did need this break from the hum and drum of regular life, even if you didn’t know it before. “I really had fun.”

No response, and none was needed, the other only returning the squeeze of your hand, face still turned away from yours. Strolling down the quiet street, it was late into the night, way past the time that you were usually already tucked into bed, your lights turned off and usually accompanied by one (or more) of the Toman founders. Yet your life these past months have been anything but usual, and having been unable to see Koko without getting him into unmeasurable amounts of trouble that would most likely end up with him in the hospital, you did miss him dearly. You will deal with the consequences of a lack of sleep tomorrow, you determined.

The music of yester-hours still buzzing in your ears and a hum under your breath, it would have been a perfect ending to your night if all the excitement ended there.

“Hey assfaces!” 

A sudden loud voice from behind that reverberated across the silent night had you jump a foot into the air like a startled cat, and you whirled around to locate the source of the disturbance. Koko, though, seemed barely bothered, his light tugs at your hand urging you to keep walking before trouble found the two of you. Too little, too late; your paths were quickly being blocked by several punks with aggressive hairstyles that you quickly identified as delinquents, though they didn’t seem to have a uniform of any sort, with the attire consisting of a mix of ruffled school uniforms and streetwear. “Strolling through my territory, huh?!”

Your heart skipped a beat - did they know who you were? Were they looking for Koko? No, that couldn’t be it. You decided that being friendly couldn’t go wrong, maybe it’s just a case of mistaken identity. “Hello,” you greeted. “Can we help you?”

A jeer rippled through the crowd in response, and you shrunk back. That was obviously the wrong move. Worse still, your voice seemed to have triggered a memory recall. “I’ve seen you somewhere before,” the seeming group leader muttered, squinting as he leaned in towards you. 

The grip Koko had on your hand tightened ever so slightly even as the expression on said boy’s face remained relaxed, almost as if bored. He must have gone through this multiple times, you reckoned, as you tried to shift away from the other.

“Ah,” the recognition settled into the other’s eyes as he pushed his face into your personal space, and you recoiled at the spit flying out from his mouth at you. “It's the shitbag always hanging off of Mikey, aren’t ya you little thing?”

Uh oh.

Another wave of sneering washed through the gang, though this time, the scorn was audible.

“I got beaten up by those Toman fuckers last week!” “One of them burned my bike!” “He stole my lunch!”

Your heart dropped into your gut. Fuck. You never thought you would be recognized.

The head delinquent’s smirk only grew larger as the displeasure boiled over into calls for Toman’s death, and he made to grab at your arm. “You’re quite the cute thing. Those fuckers have good taste. I think I’ll have some fun fir-”

A loud crack! - and you whirled around to the sight of a delinquent crumpling to the ground, clearly having lost consciousness. And there was Koko, calmly withdrawing his fist, simply not having the disrespect. “I rather you pick on someone your own size,” he stated, as if it was another usual day.

Time seemed to have frozen for a second, with the rest of the delinquents present turning almost robotically to glance between Koko and their downed buddy, the moment bringing with it an unexpected peace. But alas, it did not last as pandemonium quickly broke back out, the hoodlums sent into an uproar. “I WANT BOTH OF THEM DEAD!” The gang leader roared.

Koko shoved you. “Run!” He yelled, as he started beating down whoever he could reach. “Get to safety!”

You took off, drawing half the crowd with you, that distinctive side-swept mob of black hair quickly disappearing behind a wall. Fuck.

‎

Shit shit shit- your feet were all but flying over the pavement at this point as you sprinted down the street as fast as you could, taking random rights and lefts in an attempt to shake off your pursuers. But alas, enraged delinquents weren’t as easy to lose as you had hoped, and the stomp of their boots echoing behind you only ate away at your gut more and more. The light of the streetlamps overhead flashed and disappeared as you bolted through each and every circle of illumination, the environment all but a blur - you were sure you were completely lost at this point, though all your mind was urging you to just keep running.

What on earth were you going to do now? What could you do?

Your thoughts wandered back to Koko whom you had abandoned on the main street as you took another shark right, and your heart clenched, the guilt already starting to gnaw away at your gut. The last glimpse you had, he had been surrounded by so many of those fierce delinquents; yes, he had taken one of those builds down easily, but with opponents of such numbers? Maybe you should have stayed, but you didn’t want Koko to have to not only fight but also watch over a useless you. And, you tried to reason, with you running off, you at least have managed to draw some of the crowd away to chase after you.

But now that you were on the run, easily recognized by the self-declared rivals of the Tokyo Manji Gang, you were no doubt only creating more trouble for Mikey and the rest of your friends. No matter what you decided, no matter what you did, you only seemed to drag more and more people you claim to care about into the mess that was your life. 

Turning down yet another side alley, your lungs were beginning to burn from effort, every breath you took becoming heavier and heavier as your calves yearned for relief. You couldn’t recall the last time you had to assert such consistent effort, but you urged yourself on, forcing yourself past your limits as the adrenaline rush slowly ebbed away. You needed a place to hide and rest, somewhere safe - but where could you go? 

Bursting out back onto a main street, it was a familiar white awning that caught the corner of your eye, and though now folded up, you could recognize the partially hidden words and logo anywhere. S.S Motor…you weren’t sure if anyone was still in the shop at this time of night, but it wasn’t like you really had any other choice now. The white awning was calling to you as if it was your salvation as you closed the distance in under a minute, slamming straight into the locked front door. Damn. The door wasn’t going to give way no matter the amount of desperate rattling, and you should have known better, yet here you were, wasting precious time.

Letting go of the worn brass handle, it was the bloodthirsty calls for your blood growing nearer and nearer, accompanied by thunderous footsteps, that had you hesitate to leave the minute safety that the indent of the shop doors allowed you, with each precious second passing decreasing the amount you would have had to continue your escape. But even if you wanted to, your body was already at the point of giving up - you were physically incapable of running any further, your legs urging you to give up as you doubled over, pressing your hands against your knees in a bid to catch your breath. This was it, you supposed. You were going to make more trouble for Mikey and the rest, and probably get beat up in the process.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves, and turned around. No, this was not the end. You weren’t going to give up so easily and disgrace your Toman friends here. You had fists just like them after all, you could at least put up some resistance.

The click of a lock opening had relief that flooded into your system when your name was called by a recognizable name. Looking down at you with furrowed abyss eyes was none other than Shinichiro, that signature bluish-gray overalls of his tied still around his waist, spanner in hand. “What ya doing here at this time?”

”Chased,” was all you could hurriedly say in the time you had, as you glanced backwards at a roar that sounded just a turn away. “CanIcomeinplease?”

Shinichiro seemed to understand almost immediately. “Hide and call the police,” he grimaced, holding the door open and allowing you duck in under his arm. But much to your surprise, the older man didn’t follow you inside, instead stepping outside to block the path and line of sight of the horde of delinquents who have finally caught up to you. “Can I help you?”

Scurrying behind a motorcycle and rolling up into a ball in an attempt to make yourself smaller, your shaking hands could barely grasp your small phone without almost instantly dropping it, and you struggled to make sense of the keypad through teary eyes as you followed the commotion outside through the commotion alone, scared to give any visible indication of your presence to the angry gangsters outside.

Demands for Shinichiro to step aside, to bring you out to them, the threats of death and torture, and all the while the man was attempting to calm the mob and diffuse the situation. He was depending on you, you tried to tell yourself, finally punching in the emergency hotline, the dialing and connecting noises sounding as if they were echoing through the whole shop and not just in your ear, as if those ruthless hooligans outside could hear.

But they must have sensed your panic, your fear like a predator in the dark woods. A scuffle, and your heart sank like an anchor as a loud clunk rang out through the dead silence of the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. Grabbing the nearest tool, you flung yourself out from your hiding spot, and sprinted towards the shop exit.

‎

‎

Your hands were still shaking as the blue and red lights of emergency responders illuminated the once-quiet neighborhood around you, the foil blanket that the paramedics had wrapped around you doing little to stop the cold from seeping in. Seated just outside of the parameter of the yellow crime scene tape that now lined the parameter of S.S Motor, you barely registered the policeman attempting to talk to you to get your witness statement, his words flowing like water past you, reverberating into an inaudible distant mess in your head. Those lifeless eyes were all you could see, that accusatory stare that haunted you no matter how hard you tried to push it away. The ambulance had already taken your victim away, the first responders claiming that he was still breathing and that they could still save him, but Shinichiro-san? 

He was already cold when the first sirens arrived.

And it was in this broken state that Mikey finally stumbled across you, his phone gripped tight in one hand. Black, empty eyes wide with what could only be shock as he took in the chaos that had unfolded outside of his older brother’s shop, his gaze eventually falling on you, a trembling and responseless form on the sidewalk, a splatter of blood across your once-pristine clothes. In an instant, the Toman President had pulled you to your feet and straight into a tight hug, your face pressed tight into the crook of his neck, much to the surprise of the officer. 

He didn’t need to say more. The last of whatever control you had left fell apart, and the tears trailed down your face, the hiccups uncontrollable. “M-mikey,” you wailed into his skin, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt as the past hour flashed in the back of your eyes. “I-I’m-”

“What happened?” The blond-haired boy’s hair was soft, hoarse, the disbelief clearly tinting his words. It couldn’t be Shinichiro underneath that cover, could it? It couldn’t be. But that call, this scene.

“I killed him,” you whispered out, pulling away, as you looked back down at your trembling hands. “H-he attacked Shinichiro-san, so I…I-”

There was only one covered body, yet two weapons. Mikey pulled away, eyes staring at you, trying to read your thoughts. You couldn’t have killed Shinichiro-san; so who? 

Those five minutes were burned into your mind. You standing from behind the motorbike to find one of the delinquents with a blood-splattered steel pipe in hand, and Shinichiro sprawled out on the pavement right in front of his shop, the blood trickling down the side of his head; something washing over you as you had grabbed the heavy wrench with two hands and bursting through the shop doors, swinging the tool with all your might. The connecting blow that reverberated through your bones, and the other continuing to stand for a moment longer, swaying, staring blankly at you before crumpling to the floor. The rest of the ruffians dispersed as the authorities approached, leaving you behind trying desperately to administer first aid and CPR to Shinichiro, all the while fervently trying to ignore the other boy downed by your hand.

“I killed him,” you mumbled again, your voice haunted as the tears flowed once more. “I-I didn’t mean to- I swear-”

But the last thing Mikey could care about now was some nobody. “What happened to Shinichiro?” He repeated, this time more firmly, both hands gripping you and pinning your arms to your side. “Why him?”

“Protecting me. Th-they’ve seen me with Toman…”

Mikey audibly snarled. “And why were you here? Why aren’t you at home?!” The boy all but shouted at you, shaking you vigorously. You couldn’t blame him. It was all your fault.

Your mind jumped to Koko, where you had left him fighting that group of gangsters back along the shopping street. You couldn’t get another into trouble - not when you had committed the ultimate sin. And with the turmoil boiling in your stomach, you did something you never thought you had the stomach to. The tears started once more as you pressed your face into Mikey’s jacket, fist clenching around the white fabric. “Was looking for a job so I-I can move out,” the lie slipped out from your lips, each word burning your tongue as you mumbled out. “Th-they said they pay well.”

A murderer. You thought you would be better, better than the clusterfuck that was your family. You had tried to be better, striving to be kind, thoughtful, open-hearted. Yet here you were, you thought bitterly. The rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

The policeman seemed to have heard enough, one strong hand coming to rest on your shoulder as the other shook Mikey off of you. “You need to come with me to the station.”

A liar and a murderer.

[shadowystan]

yan x yan reader

YANDERE!crush x f!reader – dear diary, (I'm an oblivious, oblivious girl)

(first ask! kinda would've preferred a few more details but beggars can't be choosers lmao. anyway, don't mind if this is utter rubbish; im bored out of my mind)

————

You think – only for a second, though – that if you were a yandere subtype like in all those fictions, then you'll be the stalker type.

But then you continue in your little endeavour, promptly diverting your mind from distracting thoughts. It's a gamble what you're doing right now; putting your heart, blood and soul out there to do something this immoral for a mere boy.

But the heart wants what it wants.

The grip you had on your camera tightens, a smile beginning to curl on your lips as you watch him enter the room. Finally, Finally. About time he made his presence known.

Staying perched up on this tree wasn't easy. But you got a good view so it was worth it.

You watched him shrug off his shirt, lean body coming into view for you, you and you alone. How desirable he was, you almost wanted to say. Appreciate his beauty in all its pretty, delicate glory. 

The pants stayed on, you watched with disappointment, but clicked pictures away till your heart's content anyway.

-

You doll yourself up for him sometimes. 

It's not difficult. You've snooped through his phone plenty. He likes the sexy type, you’ve realised, if all the instagram models he liked to thirst over was something to go by.

So you gloss your lips just right. Style your hair a certain way. And powder your nose for a second longer.

(Sometimes, you think the models look a little like you.)

But when you see him on campus, all shining and captivating, you can't help but pass him a bright smile, dimples stretching your face and eyes sparkling like the sun.

You don't quite look sexy there. A little on the cuter side, maybe. But not sexy.

-

YANDERE!crush thinks you're just adorable.

He deliberately works out; deliberately rolls up his sleeves; deliberately never changes the password for his phone.

All for you alone.

Deliberately, deliberately changes his clothes right when the window is open and he knows you're watching, all hidden behind the leaves and the green of the tree.

But even more, he is the most deliberate when he follows a new, half naked model every week and amusedly watches you try to mould yourself into her.

It's funny. Slightly pitiful too. And he almost feels bad because it's just not in your nature. To be cool or sexy. To be hot or a diva.

But it's cute. It's cute watching you awkwardly shuffle in mini-skirts just for him. It's cute hearing the pitter-patter of your new heels and almost watching you fall. It's cute how you mask a flustered squeak when he catches you by the waist before you fall and make a fool of yourself in front of the whole campus.

It's cute. It's all so cute. You're so fucking cute it almost makes him rip his hair out.

It's alright though, he'll manage. He has managed since middle school, and then into high school. He'll keep managing in university and the years to come too.

A future with you is a future he's willing to fight for.

And. Well. Kill for.

It wasn't even hard, YANDERE!crush reminisces, to follow this homewrecker of a guy into an alleyway.

And then gut him bloody.

It wasn't hard at all, he thinks again. Far from it. He just had to take a trick from your book: Stalking.

Yes, he's sure, he's willing to kill someone for you too.

And it has a name too – his flashiness, that is – if he was a yandere subtype, he's aware he'd be the possessive, killer one.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Pretty admirer.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x chubby reader

Warning: Augst, Fluff, Stalking, Death Threats, Kidnapping, Bondage, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Daddy kink, Toji's kinda sadistic, Unconsent-photo taking, Masturbation, Yandere!reader, reader's a little creep, stalkerish gifts, Creampie, Slapping, Oral(Male), Degrading kink, Mean Toji, Baby-trapping, Fingering, Multiple orgasms, Face-fucking, Choking, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Rough sex. Part 2.

Summary: Your love story with Toji Fushiguro was far from normal but you come to love it. By god, do you love it.

Dark, gloomy clouds blocked the Illuminating sun, It was like the weather felt what you were brewing inside. 'It's perfect' you glowered in your mind while you took a sip of the bitter coffee, watching as the sky reflected your mood. Your beloved ex and you were crazy for each other until he met his true love, You wanted to do something to her and you would have done so if he hadn't warned you of what would happen, and you knew better than to test him.

You rolled your eyes at the memory, Now you boredly watched people walk by the cafe window you sat in, the people looked just as boring as you felt. Until he strolled by, you would've missed him at first glance, simply because he was wearing such casual clothes if it wasn't for the flashy woman under his arm you'd completely miss him, through my. He was gorgeous, unbearable mesmerizing the clouds moved for the heavens to shine on him.

Ebony hair reached his ears and nearly covered his irises, they were green like the rainforest, and a scar on his right lip. it made him look ragged yet handsome, and certainly, his masculine body didn't help. His white shirt was two sizes down, every muscle of his was outlined and he wore simple blue jeans.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath shorted, it felt like you couldn't breathe, you needed him to live, he was your lifeline. he. was. yours.

You fumbled to get your stuff and rushed out of the cafe, Staying only a few feet behind you followed the couple to a modern, traditional Japanese-style house. The two entered the house, while you stayed back and wrote down the mysterious man's address in the notepad you carried around 'Fushiguro? So that's his last name.' you hummed, checking once again that nobody was watching you and no one was. Everything in you screamed to stay and learn more, watch him but it was daytime people would notice you snooping and you couldn't risk being caught. You left with one last glance at the Fushiguro household.

Day by day, you learned about your love, His full name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's in his early 30s, he has a son named Megumi, who's in college, his number and his hobbies consist of going to the gym your favorite, gambling, and your least favorite, fucking that homewrecker. There was still much more to learn, like his favorite things and what was his job, his work demanded most of his time. You overheard that Toji would be gone for a week on a business trip as he spoke to his employer in his favorite gambling place and you could finally put your plan in action.

You waited for him to leave, wishing him silently to be safe, and hurried to his door after the taxi he left in was out of sight, you took the copy key that you had printed out of the spare key he left under a rock, out of your bag and unlocked the door. You walked in and shut the door unworried that anyone would see you, it was six in the morning and still dark. You leaned on the closed door, a grin on your face, a warmth in your chest, and butterflies in your stomach, you felt like a kid in a candy store. You pushed off the door and walked around his home, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the small messes around the house .'This can't do. When I'm his wife, I will make sure it is clean around here-' your cheeks heated up, you needed to focus! inhaling you continued. You passed the rooms you were least interested in, and stopped once you stumbled upon the laundry room, it was surprisingly clean, some clothes were on the dryer, towels were on the washer door, and a bin of dirty clothes. You gripped the sliding door and bit your lip, should you? It's not like he'd notice, it was wrong to steal but- without giving any more debate you grabbed a tank top, its dark green with a strong scent of musk, a smell of comfort.

You put it in your bag and moved on. The upstairs, had a second bathroom, a bedroom that looked like would be his son's room, your heart beating fast as you walked down the mini hall, into a master room, his room greeted you. the bed inside was at least a queen, he had a flat-screen TV opposite from his bed. A dark oak dresser and strangely a few weapons lying against or on the dresser, a closet, and a bedside table that had a basic lamb. Overall it was basic and little of characteristics. You sat down your bag and lay on the bed, your eyes slowly closed, you could nearly imagine him beside you, his arm around your naked body after passionate lovemaking, imagine him pushing your rotund thighs to your chest as he humped your pussy, and his balls covered in your slick, smacking against your ass, you imagine-a ring- wait, a ring? Your eyes shoot up as the doorbell rings. You rushed downstairs with your bag "Toji!" a high-pitched voice shrieked, the homewrecker you scowled "TOJI?!" she banged on the door, what the hell is she doing? She is trying to make him look bad? Your eyes widened as you hid as she used the spare key "God he's a fucking jerk, he didn't even tell me he was gone." She huffed walking to the laundry room, unaware of you following her.

You glared at her backside as she bent down in his dirty clothes picking out some of her panties, each more scandalous than the last, she was so..so pretty, seemed just like his type, you wanted to hurt her, you placed a foot in the door, No! no..not here, soon. you reassured yourself, slipping into the other room as she moved to turn to leave the room and the house altogether. You left a minute later, you had some planning to do. Instead of basking in Toji's home, you had to stalk your love's little fuck buddy Mayu, she seemed to like partying, getting shit-faced drunk, and sleeping around, you couldn't believe it. Did Toji have feelings for her? She isn't remotely marriage material. Scoffing you watched her stumbled and trip into her apartment, 'pathetic' You rolled your eyes and put the black hoodie over your head and walked across the street, the door was left unlocked. you quietly walked to the kitchen you had mapped in your head the first time you broke in, the knife block was like a twinkle that shone on a gold bar in your eyes, but what to choose? A thud came from her bedroom, you grabbed a long, sharp jagged knife and sauntered to her room with purpose.

The door of her bedroom was opened a jar and she laid on the bed in a star pose, unaware of the danger she was in. You sneaked in, your stare trained on her akin to a predator, waiting for the right time to pounce on unfortunate prey, Her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. You straddled her waist, pointed the blade to her throat, and slapped your hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with terror shot open "Don't even try." you hissed as she struggled under you, pressing the knife to her neck, enough to scare her to stop. "Now listen. You're gonna stop seeing Toji, and I wouldn't tell him about me, or of course, you want that neck of yours slit." you smiled as she began to cry and frantically nodded. "And just to make sure that you listen." you cut her chest before she could react, ultimately making her cry more. You left her there sobbing, with a wicked grin on your face, and sick joy pumping in your veins. Despite her wild side, she was smart, and knew enough to know you'd do more than simply scare her if you visited her again.

The rest of the week flew by, he came home unexpectedly barely giving you time to hide in his double-door closet. Toji mumbled something you couldn't make out though you wouldn't find yourself caring as you watched with wide eyes, Toji threw off his black shirt on the floor then plopped down on the bed, and his fingers ran through his raven hair. Scars littered his build, big and small, it didn't if not only add to his beauty, but the simple action of moving his bangs heated your core, you wanted to pull on those locks as he took his pleasure from your body. you take your phone from your back pocket, turn off the volume, and flash, you begin taking photos, two, three, or four times. You almost whimpered as he took off his pants and left the room to what you think bathroom, you had to go before you outed yourself.

Even at night, his very being was stuck with you, turning and twisting to get comfortable was futile, sighing you stared at the wall, you itched to do something, show him he was loved, how? You shot up with a smile, love letters! Of course! You tear the blanket away and get out of your bed, you grab some paper and a pencil, turn on the lamp on your desk.

My beloved Toji.

You don't know me, but I know you, and I have come to love you. I fell for your snarky and coarse personality, you can't estimate the length that my love stretches. Nobody would love you like me. I'll show you exactly that.

I'll take care of those who fail to be everything you could want, you deserve the best, and I can be the best for you, only you. I'll spend every waking instant to prove that.

Yours Truly, your devoted admirer.

You hummed this would do for now. You kiss the paper, hoping the love you feel transfers. You folded it and began another. You sent these letters with a flower of different meanings, one with roses, another orchid, and another with Tuberose. Some letters with pictures taken of his beauty. The days you're able to break into his house, the flowers you send are in vases, and your letters are in the bedside drawer, videos of you using his pillow to rub your throbbing clit, yet..yet he continued to find quick fucks, the bitter, burning rage you felt was worse than you found out your ex cheated, the women were met with threats, some times more. He was yours and they won't forget that.

My dear Toji.

Why do you like hurting me so? You know of my feelings yet you keep fucking those unworthy women, you are mine. I should be the only thing you think about when you pleasure yourself. Think about how tight I would be, how the thickness of my body would feel against you.

I will rid those girls of you. You. Are. Mine.

Your devoted admirer.

You sent this with a dead flower, if you had to kill them, you would. You won't live in a world where he wasn't in your life, sure you didn't introduce yourself but you will, it will be so cute, that what you thought.

Toji was gone for another business trip, and you took it upon yourself to watch over his house, it seemed to be in a bigger dilemma than the last time you visited, but you didn't put too much thought into it. You beelined it to Toji's room, tiredness of the hardships of love, became unbaring. You wanted to smell him all around you, once your sight landed on his bed, you flopped on it and giggled as the bed bounced your soft, pudgy body. The comfortable scent of your beloved carried you to sleep, and dreams of him danced in your unconscious mind. When you came to, a few things made themselves known, the bed you laid on was now a swing of some kind, the ground was black marble, and a couple inches away, your ankles and arms were tied together in a thick rope. Looking up from the floor view, you realized that you were in a basement, not a normal one but a sex dungeon, and as naked as the day you were born. a bed with a pillory between the pillars of the bed frames, set a few feet ahead of you, and on the walls were paddles of different sizes, leather whips, and horse whips "Sleepin' beauty finally awoke?" a deep baritone voice mocked, pushing the swing just a tad to have you in motion. Your heart flattered and jumped up your throat, carnivorous butterflies ate at your stomach "Oh the possessive whore can't speak now? Y're fine telling me what I can and can't do in that little letter." it was him, this wasn't how you were supposed to meet! You had it all planned- you yelped, a sudden sharp sting was left on your ass cheek from Toji's hand "Speak." that one word spoke pure, unmoving authority "I-I'm sorry! I-" A smack cut you off "You're sorry? You're sorry? Nah but I'll make you sorry." he gave your ass one last hit before he walked in front of you. You only saw him from afar, never this close or bare..no pants, no underwear nor shirt blocked his sculptured body, his length stood proud, twitching to be touched and licked, and a small bead of pre-cum poured from the pinkish slit, his balls hang shapely, and heavily, a mass of dark hair surrounded the base. Your mouth watered "Like what you see?" Toji chuckled cruelly taking his shaft and giving a jerk "Y-yes. It's so beautiful." you admitted in a trance-like state "Then be a good girl and open wide." he grinned lazily poking your bottom lip with his tip. Your mouth dropped and he didn't waste any time to shove it in, your eyes rolled back and you gagged, it so hard, hot, and heavy, his hands held onto your hand as he humped his cock down your throat, the saltness of his pre-come dragging against your taste buds. Deep grunts and groans heaved out of his chest, his head thrown back and his cum-filed balls smacked your drool-covered chin while he used your mouth as a fleshlight. Drool escaped the sides of your lips and pornographic gagging sounds intertwined with his pleased noises.

He was close, his groans raised in volume and his fingers tightened a bit around your head "Fuck!fuck!fucccck!!" he growled as a thick load shot down your throat, almost causing you to choke. Once he pulled out a string of saliva and cum followed before snapping, landing on the floor. "Ya like that huh?" Toji chuckled looking into your lust-glazed eyes "Answer" "Loved it s'happy..Daddy" you muttered the last part, tasting out what the girls he fucked called him, this wasn't lost on him "Fuckin' whore." he hissed, his dick twitched, he's been called that for so long but the way rolled off your tongue made him want to ruin you, not just ruin you but destroy you for any man. He pulled your hair back and forced you to look him in the eyes "'m finna ruin you." his voice dropped a little lower, he let go of your hair and walked behind you. For a second nothing happened until a big finger forced itself way into your drenched core "So fuckin' wet, might just make ya my personal slut." toji groaned, his finger thrusted into your fat cunt, his other hand kneading the flesh of your ass. You whined and clenched at his words, "More..please Daddy!" you begged tearfully which rewarded you with a harsh smack and a second finger "Since ya asked so nicely." he said, tone akin to conceding, his fingers sped up and a curled right on that spot "yes" you cried, the sound of your squelching pussy brought heat to your cheeks at the filthy noise, a third finger joined the two and it seemed like Toji was holding up against you before because his fingers pounded your vagina. The knot inside became so tight that it snapped, and your juices gushed out, spilling all over Toji's digits and the smooth floor "So messy." Toji tsked, you looked over your shoulder and moaned as he slowly licked his hand clean of your slick, his big hand took hold of your hip while he guided his tip to breach your hot sex once the head entered you, his other hand took its place on your hip and he snapped his hips, forcing himself entirely inside you. "Ya want to be mine?" he groaned, slowly pulled out then slammed back, and set a ruthless pace "Yes, please I'll be a good girl f'you Daddy." you cried as Toji growled and pounded into your cunt, your breast bounced out the slit in the swing "I'll make yar dreams come true, make you my baby mama" he grunted, using the sex swing to reach deeper, his cock head bullying your cervix harder "'m gonna make ya my fuckin' slutty housewife, waitn' for me and clean after me." he hissed, your tight sex clenching at his words, "Please..please! I'll be the perfect wife and m-mama" you babbled, tears falling down your puffy cheeks, Toji's hips quickened, driving his cock into your sweet spot and cervix, his fingers came to rubbed at your clitoris. The overestimation was becoming too much and the knot was about to snap "I'm gonna cum Daddy!" you moaned "Cum." Toji ordered, feeling his own inching closer. Just as the words left Toji's lips, your juices coated his cock, and your walls pulsed uncontrollably, milking Toji's cum as he spilled into you.

You were in a state between unconscious and consciousness, you felt the ropes that tied your arms and ankles together cut free. You felt yourself being picked up and carried to a bed, "Toji?" you muttered as you felt a wet cloth clean your puffy pussy and a stern "Sleep." Was all you got in return. The offer was too tempting to pass up.

You fall asleep in the comfort of Toji's bed.

Toji groaned as he stretched his muscles in the door of his house, his stomach growled and the thought of food was appetizing, Toji set his weapon by the door, took off his shoes, and made his way to the kitchen. Toji felt a small smile come onto his face as soon as he saw your portly body cooking dinner with a baby sitting on your hip, a baby girl that had your skin tone with your eye color, his hair, and eye shape. "I'm home," Toji called out, smile growing more as you made a happy noise and rushed to hug him "Welcome home my love!" you greeted with a smile "We missed you," you said as you handed over his daughter who immediately started to play with his bangs "Dinner will be ready in a minute. Sit." you smiles and kissed his cheek before going back to cooking. Toji sighed contently and sat down in the dining with his daughter, since he had let you live with him and eventually made you his wife, the cold and lonely house was now lively with love, laughter, and pitter-patter of feet.

Toji groaned as he rolled off you after showing how much he missed you and pulled you into him, your head on his pectoral "My love." you spoke up a few seconds of silence, drawing shapes on his other spec "Hmm?" Toji simply hummed as he rubbed his thumb on your love handle "How long did you know I was following you?" you asked, Toji had long ago told you off his occupation, being a hitman. It was a part of his job to beware of his surroundings "Since the beginn'." he answered honestly, you looked up in shock "Why didn't you do something sooner?" And why didn't you kill me? You wondered, "You were intriguing," He smirked "Nobody, no woman had tried that before besides..with a body like that how could not let you have your fun?" he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his scar "It's time for bed, we have so much to do tomorrow..." you laid your head back on his chest before mumbling "I love you." and like that sleep had taken hold of you. Toji kissed your head and whispered "I love ya too." he fell asleep soon after with you in his embrace.

Taglist: @18lkpeters , @ablondehoe.

A/n: Hey guys, sorry it took so long to upload. I hope you guys liked this like I did writing it. The reason I posted this instead of Guilty Love Three is because the poll I posted ended in a tie so I picked this story. I am still working on Guilty Love it will be out soon. If you'd like to be tagged for more of my toji fanfics you can ask here or in my ask and I will immediately add you to the list.

[oharabunny]

His Cheating Allegations

Description: Going off of my yandere!caretaker!Miguel idea, here's what I think of him in regards to him cheating.

Word Count: 798

Warning: mentions of sex, cheating Miguel, OOC!Miguel, obsession, delusion, not beta read, completely self indulgent fantasies of the author

He has a past of cheating, and he's not proud of it. But ever since he met you, he knew that he would move heaven and earth, the multiverse if you will, just for you. You are literally his whole universe.

He can't really look at other women (or anyone of any gender) the same anymore. Nobody quite compares to you.

You don't really see how because you're dysfunctional and useless to him. You wonder if he's seeing someone else in you.

He doesn't, because there aren't any variants of you across the multiverse.

But still, you think you're a dime a dozen as far as your personality and looks goes. And most people would agree with you.

Which is why it's a mystery how there are still some women that want to throw themselves at him even when he's busy ogling at you through his orange screens.

Maybe they thought they could compete with you.

(To you, they probably could. They'd be more intelligent, useful, witty, pretty, and hard working than you.)

What you and them don't know is that it is going to be a huge challenge to get him to cheat on you.

He's not necessarily infalliable, yes, he can fold, but under very certain circumstances.

Such as, if he was away from home for too long and cannot keep his pent up feelings to himself. He would need the other woman to face away from him, mask on, quiet, body shaped, and skin tone similiarly to yours in order to go through with it. He has to imagine you and your face in order to immerse himself with her.

Even then, it's still not the same and he knows, and realistically, he'll stop midway because it just won't feel as good.

On top of the fact he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't want to give you a reason to leave him.

(He would keep it a secret to himself to the day he dies.)

Which is why he's even more reluctant to cheat on you even if he does find someone else attractive because he has to make sure they're completely clean. He can't risk giving you a disease. You're a fragile and helpless being where anything can kill you. (Well, that's just what he thinks.) Your health and wellbeing is above all else.

Plus, he doesn't really have the time to cheat. He's too invested in both you and keeping the balance of the multiverse. You think he has time to go looking around?

Even the most persistent homewreckers will eventually tire out from their attempt to break his gaze on you.

Even the desperate ones.

Here's a scenario:

Other Woman: Miguel~ I'd do anything for you. Please, just give me a chance! I don't even mind being your second wife if I have to.

Miguel: Then would you be able to bear the responsibilities of taking care of my "first" wife above yourself? You'll need to take care of our children too. Fill in for me whenever I'm not home to take care of her. You have to understand that I will always put her, our children, her pets, and her belongings before you. That also means if she doesn't want me to touch you, I won't. Also, if you and I have children, they won't be your children anymore.

Also Miguel: Wait, if I let you take care of her, she might like you more than me and leave me. Nah, fuck that, I don't want you getting in between us.

Other Woman: Okay damn! You psycho! 😥

I don't think he'd do well in a poly relationship like a triad or separate relationship either. In a triad, he'd be threatened by them taking you or even you preferring them slightly more than him in any way. He has to be your number one and only. Even if the dynamics were in his favor, he's so so into you that he's very biased to give all his attention to you since sex for him is about pleasuring you. He wouldn't be a good partner for the third person if they value his attention and care too (they'd be cucked and forgotten most of the time💀). He also doesn't have the time to keep up with other relationships.

Back to the idea of him cheating on you, another way to increase his chances of cheating on you is if you consistently reject his advances and feelings for you. He might do it out of spite and sexual frustration, but he wouldn't find any joy in it especially when he realizes you don't care and you just want to leave. He'd be busy trying to manipulate you into depending on him.

Either way.

He is a you simp through and through.

A/N: This is super self indulgent as you can tell. This will never be who Miguel is canonically nor is it super realistic, but wishful thinking yknow? 🤷‍♀️

[yanderes-galore]

Heres the request I wanna send early

TF2 yandere Blu Medic with prompts from your list

7.) "All this blood? It's all for you! Everything I do is all for you!"

61.) "Being alone is worse than you hating me."

63.) "You're my everything!"

Sure! Using the plot idea you sent me. Just because he's the BLU Medic and more tame than RED doesn't mean he's scared of blood ;) Took more of a horror approach, hope you enjoy!

Yandere! BLU Medic Prompts 7, 61, 63

"All this blood? It's all for you! Everything I do is all for you!"

"Being alone is worse than you hating me."

"You're my everything!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Graphic murder scene, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping implied near end, Drugging (Implied to be sleeping pills), Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Slight sadism, Disturbing themes, General Yandere behavior, Implied forced relationship.

Normally, Medic could keep his cool. He was always nice and gentle with his beloved... Always patient and supportive. However... Tonight he just couldn't.

Medic always thought you two would be together. He's always dreamed of it, obsessed over it.... You are all that's on his mind. It's why he keeps following you... tracking your every move like something to be studied.

Then that partner of yours shattered his dreams.

Admittedly... He should've minded his own business. He knows it isn't right for him to stalk you. You should have the ability to choose... He should just be a friend to rely on.

Yet he was far too invested by this point... The doctor snapping when he watched your little date play out.

Medic knew he was reckless. He let his emotions get the better of him when he cornered that pitiful partner of yours in an alley. He should've done this cleaner and out of your sight... Not behind that damned restaurant you ate at.

He may have made major mistakes... But it felt so good to get rid of the little homewrecker.

He'll admit, he was having a bit too much fun when he cut them up. Their blood stains his casual clothes, his usual doctor's coat hung up in his home for his next patient. In his hands he grips a knife he swiped from the restaurant you had your date at.

His expression is eerily cold when he glares down at your date. This person managed to capture your heart? This person and not him?

Really... You could do better...

Much better.

Medic lost himself in the rhythm of his knife's thrusts. Blood sputters from the wounds and soon your poor date stops screaming into Medic's hand. He barely even noticed as he twists the knife into the gut of his victim.

Then... Screaming started again...

Yet it wasn't from the poor soul he just mutilated.

Medic snaps from his spell of madness when he turns to see you. Your eyes are wide and you loo nauseous. No doubt due to the sight of Medic covered in blood while holding the corpse of your date.

Medic felt his heart drop when he realized what he's done, the knife long forgotten on the ground just like the corpse. He snapped... He killed your date... He was sloppy. Now you found out and he was going to lose you.

He can't let that happen.

Like a rabid animal, Medic began to chase you through the night streets. Adrenalina guided him as he ran to keep up with your fleeing form. If only he was more careful.

He kept calling out to you in a distraught tone. He sounded like the victim, as though his clothes weren't bloody. He kept apologizing, calling your name in sweet tones and affectionate nicknames...

Although, soon you couldn't run anymore.

The moment your footing faltered and your lungs began to stutter, Medic took the opportunity to tackle you into the darkness. Your squeal is cut off by his bloody hand as he straddles you on the ground. He doesn't meant to be rough... Yet these are dire times.

"Listen to me...!" He tries to plead to your thrashing figure. "All this blood? It's all for you! Everything I do is all for you!"

Medic sees you freeze, staring at him in shock. He bites his lip nervously as you pull against his hand. Of course you wouldn't understand....

"You're my everything..." Medic admits as if the moment was a tender confession. "I just... I couldn't lose you! What would I do then? I know this was wrong but... I don't want anyone else to have you!"

His eyes are crazed and his grip is tight. He looks like a serial killer, much different than your doctor friend. Tears roll down your eyes as you tear off his hand from your mouth.

The taste of blood enters your mouth as you scream.

"I hate you!" You cry, kicking and thrashing. Medic merely stares down at you, a look of pity and betrayal on his face. "I hate that you lied to me! I hate that you're a psychotic murderer who's obsessed with me! I just hate you!"

The silence is deafening between you. Medic continues to stare at you as you cry and scream. At that moment... He really didn't care what you thought.

You don't seem to have the best judgement anyways according to your partner choice.

"Being alone is worse than you hating me." Medic whispers, palming his pocket for something. He always kept this on him, debating if he should use it one day on you or not. Now seemed to be the time. "Now... I think my little love bird should take their medicine since they're so bad tonight."

You give him a confused look before he removes a pill bottle from his pocket. You then begin to thrash again when he pours some pills in his hand and forces open your mouth. Like forcing a cat to take a pill, he places them in your mouth before shoving your mouth shut and pinching your nose.

"Swallow." He growls in your ear. "These will make you relax and sleep... I promise I'll take much better care of you than that date of yours."

You have no choice but to swallow the pills eventually. The amount you take increases the effect, making you unable to struggle against Medic. He grins when he sees this, crawling off you and picking you up.

"Best we get you taken care of, yeah? I'll take you to our home to rest..." Medic coos with a psychotic grin. The fear on your face is ignored by the crazed doctor.

"I think we've both had a bit too much excitement... haven't we, my dove?"

[2-dsimp]

What if... Harumu's darling was faceblind and had low-social tolerance, basically recognizing people by voice and habits?

Her husband IS a plain, boring, square in comparison to the homewrecker, and she adores him for it because he does it intentionally for her comfort. She finds him a comforting rock and bastion of consistency. She holds 0 attraction for Harumu because he's loud, very in your face, a Diva, and never wears the same outfit twice in the darling's presence. She gets very stressed about it, having gotten into trouble her last job when she failed to recognize her Boss when came in out of his usual outfit once.

Darling can't understand Homewrecker's overtures, she's too busy trying to figure out where they lost their boss and praying to god that no one noticed because the last time they failed to recognize him off the bat (he changed into a sexier outfit because she looks at his clothes more and he thought he could seduce her with a hot body) Harumu threw The World's Biggest Diva Fit.

This scenario is intriguing! But To be frank, if darling had face blindness and a low social tolerance.

Their application wouldn’t even have made it through the preliminaries against their competitors. Harumu is the face of an international beauty brand after all. So qualifications to handle all the attention. Which comes with being his caretaker will have to be met without exception.

To even catch Harumu’s attention you’d have to be exceptional in your own right. Since he believes that they deserve only the best of the best. So it’s not like he’d settle for just any manager. It’s why the beauty influencer initially was against having one in the first place. Since Harumu knows how high maintenance he is and is very critical about every single need being taken cared of.

The Shapeshifter isn’t loud and in your face. They’re a diva but a classy one at that.

Harumu never had the need to raise his tone (except for a few times throughout his spoiled life). Especially when he’s so used to people rushing to his beck and call. With just a simple expression of displeasure and a wave of their manicured fingers which means ‘come hither’.

Though on another note Harumu doesn’t wear anything twice unless they really love the design.

But if for whatever reason darling didn’t show any reaction to his outfit.

At first the yandere shapeshifter! Would be smug thinking that his beauty had finally stolen the breath from their lungs. And would even go as far as to prepare and call for the paramedics. just in case you fainted from the sheer exposure to his flawless features.

But slowly after getting out of his delusional headspace. And sees that you just didn’t have any opinion whatsoever. The yandere shapeshifter! would literally freak out from the notion that his handsome/pretty features didn’t have an affect.

Harumu would be so in shock that he’d feel faint and have a mental freak out. Questioning if he’s having a nightmare or if he’s just hallucinating. While also being heavily concerned about if you were even human to begin with. And was just an android in disguise. (Maybe you lied on your resume how else are you so capable in managing him?).

After having to call the medical staff for your model who fainted from pure distress. You’d later have Harumu wearing a tight lipped smile in their female form. (So that they don’t accidentally break your phone with their male counterparts strength) grabbing your phone to manually type in yet another requirement into your packed schedule.

The task was “practice every morning, noon, and night on giving words of affirmation to me, Darling~♥︎" Into your daily regime. Making it the top priority for you to fulfill as his manager.

After making countless desperate rationalizations. Harumu finally returned to her usual confident self and would simply chalk it up to you just being shy (for her own sanity) Becoming determined to get you outta that meek shell of yours so you can work on (adoring her like you’re supposed to)

[yandereteentitans]

Yandere! Starfire Headcanons

If you like my work, you can support me here [Anything is appreciated]

Starfire is very sweet, sickeningly so

Though, she does have a darker side

She can get very violent

When Blackfire visited, she tried hitting on you, because she could sense her sister liked you and Starfire nearly lost her cool

She's not mad at you, but she wishes you'd tell Blackfire off [You and Star are not dating]

She's very protective and would do anything for you

If anyone threatens you, she's quick to show them what a Tamarian is capable of

Wants to go flying with you [And if you can't fly, she'll take you flying]

Loves to cuddle and hold you

She wants to do your hair and she loves when you do hers

Sleepover queen! She'll come into your room in the middle of the night and sleep with you

You have some gossip? Well, she's all ears

She sticks with you when you're in new places

You're the more introverted of the two of you and if you like being alone, Starfire's okay with that. You can be alone... With her. Be alone together

You fill her dreams and make her so giddy

Starfire is very jealous

If someone takes your attention away her, she'll seethe and possibly even fight the 'Homewrecker'

She knows you can defend yourself, but she does get a sick pleasure when defending you

She allows people to insult her, she just lets it slide off her back, but when someone comes at you, she's not as cool

"What did you say?" She'll ask in a nice tone, but the look in her eyes is a look that can kill

She wants to cook you all her home foods

^Even though she doesn't realize they aren't edible

She gets really sad if you don't, but one of the other teammates will tell her that the food is inedible and Starfire finds a way to cook her home food using Earth ingredients

If you have cultural food, she'd love if you'd cook for her

It feels like she has a piece of you [That sounds so weird though]

[catmansquad]

“Unstable” (4)

Right, let’s sign off this disaster caused by a crazed homewrecker with superpowers. Finale of Yandere!Miguel

‘But he was you!’ The argument had been on both their minds for the past two days. A puzzling sense of unmatching pieces that never gave any sense of resolution. Like an invisible wedge that was now stuck between them. ‘I’m not lying to you, Miguel. I didn’t spontaneously decide; “Oh, my husband’s not home, let me just grab a handsome guy off the street to get into bed with for a few days”!’ You watched Miguel’s eyes go wide, his injuries were slow to mend, but at least he looked more like himself than the haggard wraith who had all but collapsed into your arms. ‘… He’s been in our bed, too?!’ ‘I’m not lying! I’m not cheating on you! He was you, Miguel! Literally you! Same hair, same face, same voice!’ ‘I… I don’t need this… I really don’t…. I get kidnapped by a fuckin’ masked maniac, have all by belongings stolen, and spend nearly a week trying to get back home. I had to live like a beggar! Pleading with people for food and money, anything I could to get back home! When I finally do get back, I find my beloved wasn’t even looking for me! Wasn’t even worried- because they’ve got it into their head that I was never missing at all!’

‘Miguel, where are you going?!’ ‘Out! To clear my head!’ ‘Miguel!’ The holographic screen was fixed firmly upon the two of you. The room was filled even more destruction than before, more shattered screens and consoles, half-built machinery that had been scrapped, covered in deep gouges and crushed metal. Calm from his fury, Miguel paced back and forth with arms folded, keeping his eyes firmly on the screen, once again peering into your world from his own. Despite his passing fury, his anger still rolled inside him. It had just been far too good to be true; you were his, he had in his arms every night, he had kept you safe and comforted, both as himself and his alter-ego. Now that pathetic, weak, other version of him had just stepped back into your life- and he was causing you anguish and distress. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, feeling another bout of fury rising inside him. ‘Lyla…’ His eyes remained firmly on the holographic screen, teeth gritted, watching you perch on the sofa, seeming despondent. ‘What’s up? You’re looking a little tense.’ ‘I want you to keep a tracker on this other me. As soon as you see an opening, let me know.’ ‘He’s out of the house now.’ ‘No. Too soon. They need time to heal…. Time to let suspicions rest- shock it!’ He grabbed whatever was close to hand, a half-built bracelet and hurled it across the room with a snarl to shatter at the far wall. ‘He shouldn’t have come back! He should have stayed away!! We would have been happy together…. We… still can be happy together…’ His gaze returned once again to the screen, watching you in your forlorn state, a hand reaching out, as if he wished to stroke your cheek, to offer comfort. ‘… I’m right here, mi amor… I’ll be back, I promise… We’ll never be apart. Not ever again.’

‘They said I resigned.’ You looked up from your food, Miguel’s plate remained untouched, his eyes firmly on his phone, you watched his mood spiral further into anger and despair. ‘You told me that you were on vacation, Mig.’ Your saw his hand tense around his phone, the casing creaking in his grasp, a vein throbbing in his forehead out of irritation. ‘They said that I came in not long after I left and resigned “with immediate effect”… How?! I was halfway across the city being beaten black and blue! By the same guy you said saved your life! What the fuck is happening here?’ You watched Miguel place his phone aside and bury his face into his hands with a low groan of frustration. ‘My partner’s convinced I never left, I’ve been kidnapped, threatened, beaten, and now been left unemployed… How could I possibly be in two places at once? How…? What am I going to do now…?’ You reached across the table, hand resting palm up and fingers beckoning softly until he reached out to take your hand, his eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. He looked like a broken man, and you felt nothing but love and pity for the man. Even as the reasons that had led to it all made no sense whatsoever. You truly believed in Miguel’s story, yet at the same time, you knew you hadn’t imagined that your husband had also been with you for his supposed absence. Miguel squeezed your hand for reassurance, and you returned the gesture. ‘We’re going to be alright, Mig… I promise. We’ll be alright.’

Miguel had tried everything, his very best to get his career back, but to no effect. Apparently, his supposed resignation had been so sharp and intimidating that it had been accepted without hesitation. Three nights later, you were cuddled up in bed together, wrapped in the blankets. His embrace was not one of security, but one of desperate comfort, clinging to you like he was afraid you would abandon him, if he let go. Your eyes fluttered open, glancing around the dark room. What had woken you up just now? You listened; the sound of traffic in the distance, the soft breathing of your husband as he slept beside you, skinnier than he had been several days ago. Certainly, something didn’t sit right about a man who could gain and shed muscle mass in a short time. You sat up with a soft gasp, there it was again, the sound that had woken you. ‘… Miguel… Miguel…’ ‘Mm… Whasit…?’ He murmured, still half asleep, eyes barely open. ‘I... I think there’s someone outside…’ ‘Hm... ‘s probably just a fox scouring through the trash… Go back to sleep…’ ‘Foxes don’t try door handles…!’ Your voice was a conspiratorial hiss and you watched him sit up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. You both sat, ears strained against the silence, not even a whisper pierced through the quiet. ‘See? Just foxes, mi vida… Nothing to worry abou-‘ Miguel’s attempt at soothing was interrupted by a mighty crash from your garden and you watched your husband nearly leap out of his skin in fright. ‘What the fuck was that?!’ He threw back the bedsheets, grabbing his clothing from the creased pile and pulling it on scowling under his breath. ‘I swear, if it’s not one thing, it’s another… I just can’t catch a break…’ ‘Miguel, do you-?’ ‘Stay here, I’ll be right back…’

He had unlocked the back door, clutching a torch in hand, stepping outside, he shivered at the bitter chill of the night and cast the beam over the garden, nothing moved in the interplay of light and shadow. He stepped out, searching and finding the source of the crash from where the recycling bin was lying far away from where it should be, cracked and dented, like it had been thrown with considerable force, with bits of would-be recycling spilling out. ‘How the hell did this happen…?’ He shivered again, not just at the chill of night, but of feeling eyes on the back of his neck. He spun around, scouring through the darkness with the beam of light. Nothing revealed itself. ‘… I thought I’d made myself clear, pendejo…’ He went tense, fear racing through his heart at that familiar growl of a voice, again right behind him. ‘I told you to stay away. You didn’t listen. That’s very unfortunate, for you…’ Miguel steeled his nerve and turned slowly, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat, his mind tried and failed to process just what he was seeing; his own doppelganger stared back at him, eyes blazing red and furious with intent, teeth bared in a snarl with sharp fangs. ‘… W-what the fuck…?’ ‘All you had to do was stay AWAY!’ His other self punched him with the force of a truck and Miguel felt the world spin, tumbling through the air to land winded on the grass, torch clattering to the grass beside him, beam flickering. He glanced around, unable to see through the gloom, unsure of where his doppelganger was. He crawled forwards, closer to the torch, if he could just escape, he could get inside, barricade the door and stay safe with you until… Until what? Until the police came, from a call that he was being threatened by himself?! You were on his mind, protecting you was what mattered. His fingers brushed against the torch, he felt something tie itself around his ankle, and you were on his mind still as he was dragged back, screaming, into the darkness.

You had hurried downstairs, phone in hand, calming when you found the back door already locked once again, your husband by the sink, washing his hands. ‘Miguel…? Are you alright?’ He looked to you with an expression that you couldn’t quite place, but the sheer intensity behind it gave you pause, then it evaporated into a calm, loving smile. ‘Hey… I’m fine. Just foxes knocked over the recycling bin.’ ‘B… But I thought I heard… I heard you scream.’ He laughed softly, nodding. ‘Ay, stubbed my toe on the step hard, coming back in… Shockin’ stung, ow…’ His smile faded as you continued to stare at him. ‘I’m fine, mi vida… Go back to sleep. I’ll be up soon.’ You silently agreed with him and turned away, grateful that nothing else was wrong. In the dim light, you missed the swirls of water, stained crimson, running down the drain, of Miguel scrubbing clawed fingers clean. He had no such issue seeing in the dark; crimson eyes watching you leave with a relieved smirk. He focused on keeping his claws retracted, drying his hands, and then returned back upstairs to where you were already half asleep. There would be no further interruptions.

You awoke warm and safe, cuddled close in strong arms that maintained an almost possessive hold on you as you tried to squirm out of them. ‘Mm… Jus’ five more minutes, mi corazón…’ His voice purred, pulling you closer against him. You sighed and agreed with him, snuggling closer into his chest. ‘Hey, you’re buff again, Miggy…’ You noticed, hearing him chuckle in response. He was so very warm. ‘… My love, you talk as if I’m not always this fit.’ ‘You were skinny last night…’ ‘You’re getting mixed up with your dreams again, mi amor… Shh, just lay here with me… Just like this…’ He hummed softly, nuzzling into hair, one leg moving to wrap around you, pinning you even closer against his body. You were trapped in his embrace and could do nothing but lay there until he finally released you. Not a bad place to be, all in all. Soon, it would all fall apart.

All day, Miguel had been not more than a few feet from you. Showering together, cooking together, and even sat down, he did not let your body touch the sofa, you were in his lap, hugged close. ‘What did I ever do to be blessed with you…?’ He murmured, placing sweet kisses on your neck. Already your skin was covered in the lovebites he had left, and he did not seem content to stop any time soon. You squirmed in his arms, what had once been devoted and delightful was starting to raise other feelings in you now, feelings of concern and worry that were compiling with other issues your logical mind had logged. ‘… Are you alright, Mig?’ ‘I’m absolutely fine…’ He purred, hands ghosting down your body to rest at your hips. ‘…. Well, the other night you were a wreck.’ ‘I’m fine… I just want to enjoy my vacation with you…’ The gears of your logical mind clicked and spun together at the contradiction that had just left his lips. ‘Vacation? Mig you told me that you’d resigned- or that someone had said you’d resigned. You were an absolute mess because you couldn’t get your job back and now…’ You felt him freeze, lips on your neck, hands firm on your hips. He didn’t resist as you slipped free and rose to looked at him as his posture relaxed, eyes looking into your own. ‘I.. I just don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense; how I can be enjoying life with you, and then you suddenly appear on my doorstep claiming you’ve been kidnapped, and then you just suddenly snap right back like nothing’s wrong…’ ‘Mi amor, don’t be like this… Just come here…’ ‘A-Am I going crazy, Mig?... A-are you?’ You watched him freeze up again, eyes narrowing a fraction and he rose quietly from where he sat, and it was a grim, sudden reminder of how much he towered over you in height and mass. ‘…. C-crazy?’ He spoke in a soft breath, hands curling tight. ‘You think I’m crazy…?’ ‘N-no! No, I just want to understand-‘ He growled, literally growled in his throat, teeth gritted, and you were scared by the sight of his long, sharp canines. ‘… You’re thinking it too, aren’t you? Hm? Go on. Say it! Crazy. Mad! UNSTABLE!!!’ You watched in horror as he grabbed the sofa, clawed fingers ripping into the fabric as he hurled it across the room with a yell. He turned to you, chest heaving, eyes blazing red, and the horror on your face seemed to snap him from his rage and pinched the bridge of his nose with a long exhale. ‘I’m... Not angry with you. I could never be angry with you… I love you, so much, mi amor, mi vida… Just come here…’ ‘Miguel-‘ ‘Just come here!!’ He demanded, temper rising again, arms open for you. Whatever you said next was cut off by the distant, terrified screaming of your neighbour. Miguel’s head tilted as he listened, eyes firmly on you. ‘…. I think they just found that mangled mess I made of the weak, pathetic man you married… That’s alright, you don’t need him anymore. You have me now…’

In the rush of adrenaline and panic, you weren’t sure exactly how you escaped, from him, from your home. Now, you were several streets away, trying to lose yourself in the city, and thoroughly convinced that he was not following you. You had called for help, all of your friends, and all of them had refused to answer in turn. All of them refused your call, some had even blocked your number. Your husband wasn’t your husband, the man who wasn’t him had killed your husband and now he was after you. To do what? Did he plan to kill you, too?! You needed help, you needed someone who could keep you safe. You flattened yourself into the dimness of a dark alley, peeking out just to double-check that the imposter was absolutely not following. You almost had a heart attack from the sheer fear and shock of the scrape of brick and you watched the answer to your prayers slide down the wall. Spider-man was here. ‘You look like you’re scared out of your mind, someone troubling you?’ ‘Oh… Oh, please… Please help me!’ You all but threw yourself against his chest, trembling and watching him briefly flinch at your openness before a comforting hand patted your back. ‘Heh. Helping is what I do, what’s the matter now…?’ ‘M-my husband who isn’t my husband murdered my husband and now he’s coming for me, please… Spider-man, please help me…’ He hushed you softly, taking one of your hands in his own with a reassuring squeeze. ‘Of course. Of course, I’ll help. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me… You always will be…’ You didn’t notice until the sharp click that he had fastened a simple black bracelet tight against your left wrist. ‘W-what is…?’ His strong arms brought you tightly against him, one hand rubbing small circles on your back as he hushed you softly again. ‘Shh… It’s going to be alright…Te amo… Te amo, mi amor, mi vida…’ The shaky breath filled your lungs as the horror of realization settled. ‘… Oh god…’ ‘I love you... I love you, so much, it hurts…’ ‘… O-oh god…’ ‘But I really don’t think you’ll be safe here anymore… It’s gotten too messy. Too many questions to be asked by the wrong people…’ Your revelations were confirmed as the mask pixelated and fell away into glittering lights, red eyes met your own briefly, before he leaned in to kiss your neck, once, twice, then you felt the stabbing of sharp fangs, the burn accompanied by something else that left your body leaden and unresponsive. ‘There you go… There you go… Shh… It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be absolutely fine. We’re going to go somewhere safe, where we can be together, where we can be undisturbed. I can take care of you there, and you’ll come to realise that you love me just as much as I love you.’ The world behind him collapsed and fractured into a gate of swirling lights, offering brief glimpses of another place altogether. ‘… We’ll have our whole lives together…’ He bundled you in his arms, kissed your forehead gently, and carried you through.

------

So, there we are. Unstable. I do enjoy writing some darker takes on Miggy, only so I can then go to Looking Glass and counterbalance it with him being an absolute ball of wholesome, healthy love and fluff for being absolutely head over heels with his LI (See: Excerpt “Doughnuts” for example). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading about getting kidnapped by a crazy man from another world who developed an unhealthy obsession with you and couldn’t grasp why killing and replacing your husband with a buffer, better version of himself wasn’t something you were too keen on...

If memory serves me @oscarissac2099 wanted to be tagged, too. So, there’s that.

[shooting-love-arrows]

Hi,love!

Just wanna add on to that jealousy game of red flag!reader 🤭

If readers kid would be like the spitting image of yan!househusband or have many features in common,it would drive yan!assistant crazy at seeing a exact copy of his 'enemy' and a constant reminder that they failed to snatch reader away from yan!hubby

But if the childs features mostly reassembled or were exactly like readers,yan!assistant would get that push to adore that child and trick themselves into thinking that its actually their and readers child.

Lowkey feel that if yan!assistant goes crazy enough,they would try to get close to readers and yan!househusbands child,make the kid call them their 'work mom/dad' and tell them they love them like their own kid.Bring the kid snacks or little toys to keep them entertained and show reader what a good parent they can also be.See yan!househusband go red at the sight of the homewrecker trying to steal his family even after they had a kid together.Maybe even try to kidnapp the kid and get reader to surrender

Yan!Househusband would highkey be the type to bring reader lunch and have sex in readers office,leaving the door a bit open for assistant to hear them moan,or just be a little extra loud for assistant to hear them if the door is fully closed

Wouldn't be surprised if yan!househusband dressed kid to match with them in a formal work dinner/party

Would also give kid a huge smooch in the cheek and leave lipstick stain for assistant to see when kid goes to work with reader

Overall,I feel like even if yan!assistant and red flag!reader had a little one night stand or a fling,yan!househusband would still walk around with the "they come back to me anyways", "you're a little something,im everything to them", "they come home to me" trophy up high

Yan!househusband is the winner in readers heart at the end of the day,lol

-🌟 anon

Dear 🌟 Anon,

Yes, yes and once more yes! You're absolutely right about those scenarios. I just love how you wrote those two yanderes competing for our red flag! reader.

Additionally, I'd say the poor child will be confused and the only constant in their life would be our red flag! reader (which is a bad example to follow in the first place). But hey! At least they are spoiled with affection and gifts from both parties. And they'll probably end up being yandere in the future like his papa and wrok dad with a darker twist since they are the child of Red flag! Reader. One more thing/suggestion, if the aftermath of the fling is a child born between the Red flag! reader and Yandere! Secretary/Assistant…👀 P.S I adore your ideas, starlight <3 P.S.S I say yest to the office sex! The thing those walls (and coworkers) saw and heard, I'd say were written down into an adult novel. Yandere! Secretary/Assistant defineitly reads during nighttime imagining it's them you have sex with.

@shooting-love-arrows

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

A Life Bartered Ch 3

Yandere! Human Miles Quaritch x Mutant/Human Female Reader.

Set: Avatar 2009.

Warnings: Smut, Older man and younger woman, huge age gap, unhealthy love from men and Navi men. Foul Language. Attempt to impregnate. Painful Sex.

Four more nights till you will tie the knot to the Navi who 'won' you. To be Mated with Ebe. As to be his wife. Married and to bear his children. 

You gulped. Was it even possible for an advanced human being such as yourself and a Navi male to produce half breeds? 

Being a woman with natural maternal affection, you knew you would love any and all of your future children. You just wished your future babies would be sired by your ex lover. The Head of Security. 

You blew an exhale of loneliness. You still had little battery life left in your cell phone. You wished you took pictures of your handsome “boyfriend”. 

Or whatever he was to you. He treated you like his wife. But, because of your bitchy attitude, it was one sided. And he must have known.

You sometimes caught his hurt expressions when you didn't heed to his affectionate touches or gave him half assed responses. 

You resented him for abusing his power to get you into his bed for money. 

Come to think of it, you furrowed your brows in concentration. He didn't apologize to you after giving yourself in to get the funds back for the program, but he did more than his side of the bargain. 

His soldiers would accompany the other scientists in the wild jungle to study plants and gather resources. The cafeteria received more quality food. The heating system got upgraded. Nice hot showers and heated air made the science bunks and labs cozy and comfortable. 

And you, you got the lion share. You got the highest qualities of makeup, perfume, designer clothes from the magazine orders sent to and from Earth when supplies come in. 

And not only that. The Colonel would voluntarily brush your long hair whenever he was free from work or gym. And for some reason he was fascinated with your feet. He once complimented how tiny they were. He would always massage them.  But best of all, you liked his stares. When you applied makeup on the vanity mirror desk he ordered when you moved into his room. He would sit on his bed. 

And watch you doll yourself up. He would lick his lips and look as if he was in pain. You found it amusing. Then eventually, he would always ruin your lipstick. He would look as if someone punched him in the mouth.

He would use soap and water to scrub your lipstain off his face. But, removing makeup was not easy. So, some staff noticed. But, they were too scared to tease their superior. 

You smiled at the memory and stared at the stars of Pandora. You wondered if Quaritch was looking outside too. But, sadly, with all his work, gym, and extra work correcting the mistakes Selfridge would make. You assumed he was asleep and exhausted. 

That poor man. 

You treated him like shit. 

You felt like a homewrecker. 

A bad woman. 

You looked at Ebe’s sleeping form. He didn't rape you. Not yet. You were lucky. He was waiting for the wedding night. Maybe, you should be kind to Ebe. He seemed to love you like how Quaritch did. He is ugly. But, maybe he looked ugly to you because you loved and missed the Colonel. 

Closing your eyes you yearned to see the handsome face you took for granted. You hoped and wondered if the Colonel had pictures of you on his phone.

You dismissed it immediately. Even if he did have pictures of you, he probably deleted it. You don't deserve him. 

“Good bye, My Love.” You whispered as you stared at the dark sky. 

…………

The Colonel walked up to the quarters of his trusted sidekick, Corporal Lyle Wainfleet of his Marine Squad.

He remembered a crucial detail of you. He caught you talking and giggling with that female pilot that worked with Lyle. Judging by how many times you socialized with her, the Colonel assumed you two were close friends. Not as close as Grace. Better than nothing. 

The harsh knock made a grumpy Lyle open the door with a mean look in his face. He was about to cuss out whoever woke him. Then he straightened when he saw his superior. 

“Colonel?”

“Your pilot is a personal friend of Name, right?”

Lyle was taken back at the mention of your name. Since those Savages took you, no one dared to utter your name in the Colonel's presence. 

After affirming the Colonel's question. The blonde man felt less tense and actually happy since that text you sent him. 

Lyle missed you. He hardly spoke to you much. Besides greetings and how orders the Colonel gave him to you like to meet him somewhere or go to his office. 

Lyle couldn't not notice not only your beauty but your personality and intelligence. He was smitten and jealous that the Colonel got to you first. But, you knew that the Colonel would steal you from him even if he didn't meet you before him. 

Lyle guessed you were not fated to be with him. 

Lucky bastard. 

“Get that Pilot. We will get Name back. Only the three of us know.”

“Yes, Sir.” The Corporal wasted no time. Lyle was scared that you were perhaps either dead or almost dead after being raped. There is no way a pretty face like yours can't get taken advantage of. Navi or human. You were just that beautiful. 

He still pitied you. 

…………

Trudy was the same way when Wainfleet knocked on her door in the middle of the night. She was about to yell but Wainfleet whispered harshly and explained the rescue mission. Trudy was ecstatic. 

Since Trudy was dating Norm, she knew the situation. That you were forced to be with the Colonel. And an evil Navi warrior wanted you.

She knew like all beings not all are totally bad or good. But the Navi man who took you. Damn, she hated him. He was no better than Quaritch. 

Trudy dressed up in her pilot suit and jogged with the armed Wainfleet to her chopper waiting for them was the tough man Quaritch. 

He was ready with his mask and machine gun.

Shit will go down.

Quaritch printed the tracking area code and picture of where you were located by his cellphone. 

He gave the paper to Trudy. Starting the chopper, they finally set off. 

The Warrior out to save the damsel in distress. 

………

Trudy landed the chopper away from the intended area as the orders of the Colonel. Lyle and Quaritch jumped off the plane with their guns ready to kill. The night vision built in his mask indicated body warmth of two individuals. A Navi and a human sleeping under the abyss tree. 

It must be her. 

Colonel Quaritch nodded to Lyle. Taking the cue, Lyle threw the grenade to the far left of the field and it landed on a plant that had some kind of nest. Like a hornet nest. 

Boom. 

The flame engulfed the grass and the yells of those damn savages made Lyle and the Colonel crouch down to hide. The same ugly ass Navi came from under the Tree and was yelling in his native tongue.

Then Quaritch saw you. You came out obviously in shock from the commotion. Your eyes widened at the awful site. Fire burning the beautiful shrubbery and plants of the area. 

What a shame. While feeling sorry for the lost wildlife. A hand covered your mouth. You were too unhealthy to struggle. You then turned to see the man you are aching for.

It was dark for you to see. But the fire showed some light. It was him. 

He let go of you. You stared in disbelief as he put his finger to his lips and picked you up bridal style. 

He ran to the chopper and he made you sit next to his seat before strapping you. He frowned when he noticed how even lighter you were in his arms. You lost too much weight. Were you even fed? That monkey probably tortured you. 

Quaritch clenched his teeth with rage. Lyle hopped in and quickly ordered Trudy to go. The Colonel noticed your shivering form. He took off his Marine jacket and covered you. He held you close. He tucked you underneath his chin and wrapped his arms around you. 

You couldn't hold it in. You burst into sobs. The Colonel felt his tank top wet. “I thought you were dead.”

You mumbled. “ Might as well.”

The Colonel heard it clear then sighed. 

Lyle, on the other hand, watched the two of you with pity.

 He was also impressed by you too. He expected you to be haggard. You looked perfect as ever. Just sad and sick. Too skinny. Your hair was still glossy with no flyaways or frizz. 

 And your skin looked like it was filtered with Photoshop. With your blood red lips and pink cheeks you still had your natural makeup.

The oversized nightgown made you look oddly cute. But it was thin as fuck. The white dress was too big and not your size. Looked like the Navi who demanded you must have stolen the fabric materials when the cargo that arrived from Earth was to be sent to the base. 

The chopper landed on the parking lot and Trudy waited for you to come out of your seat. The Colonel hopped out then grabbed your lithe hand and settled you to the firm ground. Trudy didn't hesitate to engulf you in a hug.

The Colonel and Corporal Wainfleet watched you hug back. Shaking his head, the Colonel had to return his weapons to the supply room. He ordered you to be sent to his room. Quaritch gave his room key to Trudy. 

Quietly as mice, you and your friend snuck inside the luxurious room of the Colonel. You noticed how there were broken furniture and holes on the wall. 

Trudy wasted no time turning on the hot shower. You didn't want to further burden your friend, so you did your best to shampoo your long hair and use soap on your body. 

You forgot how long you were taken away by Ebe but you didn't want to know. It felt like years. Time went so slow. It was nice now. You felt a little invincible. You cheated death and escaped the true punishment of your wicked crimes against the Colonel.

You sure dodged a bullet. After that, Trudy wrapped you with the Colonel's shower towel and led you to his bed. You didn't notice but all your items were still in his room. 

Your clothes, books, makeup, everything. The Colonel gave the cat equivalent pet he caught for you to the science pukes. Obviously, he couldn't take care of it. He wasn't cruel to starve an animal. 

Those science bitches seemed to be thrilled to have that weird creature. Not that he was complaining. Quaritch didn't admit it, he was jealous that you showed more affection to that pet than to him before he gave you up. 

“You may leave.”

Both women's heads turned to see the Colonel in the doorway without his combat gear. Trudy stood up but stopped when Quaritch held out a paper. 

Turned out it was a check. You saw your friend's eyes widened as she read it. Must been a large sum of money. Trudy thanked Quaritch and disappeared. 

You looked confused. Quaritch said nothing. He stripped himself and threw his clothes to the floor. 

Sitting next to you, you didn't say anything when he brushed your long wet tresses. Like old times,  He would stop and sniff them by gently grabbing the ends of your hair to his nose then continue brushing.

He finished and laid down on the bed and made you rest on top of him. You cling to him like a wounded animal. Quaritch felt you shaking and still cold. He wrapped your lithe frame closer to his heated body. 

“Were you …?” 

The Colonel couldn't bring himself to say it. You said not yet. The blonde man blew an exhale. That blue monkey was so lucky. If he did rape you. The Colonel would have made you go to the doctor regardless of being seen. And check if you were pregnant with a half breed.

And squash that fetus beneath his foot. 

But, that fuckin’ Navi was planning on it and wanted to. The Colonel decided to not give him that bad of a painful death. 

Noticing how still you were. He peeked down to see you asleep. What a night. 

Corporal Wainfleet punched in the ticket for his superior . He announced to the staff today was the Colonel’s day off.

Quaritch didn't care what time it was when he woke from his peaceful slumber. He felt light as a feather.

He stroked your long (hair type) hair as you continued your slumber. You were still as a rock. Damn. You must have been really tired. Normally, you would toss and turn around nine times in bed.

With pity in his eyes the Colonel watched you breathe in and out. He wondered if you ever dreamed of him like he did of you. Or even thought of him.  But, the memory of you texting him confirmed his curiosity. He screenshot your message and saved it to his photos on his cellphone.

Gently, he removed himself from your grip and off the bed. He hurriedly showered and dressed in his uniform to enter the Marine cafeteria. 

He as usual was greeted with respect but he didn't want to look suspicious. He hoped no one would notice him gathering extra food to his tray. 

He normally wouldn't eat luxurious food. Luxury makes a man weak to be lazy and pathetic. But, you lost so much damn weight and feared you might be sick. 

He will go to the hospital wing and his own personal doctor will check you. 

Quaritch will swore him to secrecy through bribes and also threats. As a Marine, you are to never trust no one. Unless proven greatly otherwise. 

Like you. Quaritch didn't trust you before but now. He knew you changed. 

He forgave you. 

It was no surprise you were still sleeping. He placed the tray on his table and then leaned down to dip his face. He kissed your cheek and gently rubbed your shoulders. 

You stirred and opened your lovely eyes in confusion before blinking. It was cute. You looked surprised to see him and looked around your area. The Colonel smirked. He made you sit up before wrapping his bathrobe around you. 

He cut the Salisbury steak and pressed the fork to your lips. You were confused. You didn't eat meat. But, you knew the reason. If the Colonel got only plant based food for you. It would look suspicious. You assumed you were to be hidden until further notice. 

And you needed muscles and gain weight. 

You let him feed you like a toddler. You remembered how he ordered you to feed him while “dating” him. 

He would tease you calling you his tradwife.

You felt offended and labeled him a toxic masculine man. Now, you realized you were foolish to not understand he was joking and you were the one toxic. A crazy witch.

As mentioned before, the Colonel would massage your feet whenever he had free time and brush your hair. Most important, he would take care of you when you were on your period and voluntarily feed you.

You cooked and cleaned out of duty but that was it. Few times he made you feed him and you complained. The colonel noticed your attitude then stopped asking you to feed him and other affectionate gestures. He became grumpy. He wanted you to act like a real girlfriend but was meeting him half way in the relationship. Like you didn't want it to work.

It reminded him again you were forced to be with him for the sake of the avatar program.

It added more guilt inside your chest. He didn't say if he forgave you or not. Then again, you apologized in the text and not in person. 

You wanted to say sorry in person but the Colonel continued feeding you. He then took a few bites himself from the same fork and made you drink water. When you watched him drink from the same glass after you. 

You felt… flattered. It was intimate without being sexual. Like real romance rather than superficial lust.

You blushed but sadly Quaritch didn't notice. He was too worried for you. 

Ebe tried to feed you but you would always vomit your food later. Maybe it's because you would feel hopeless and sob later. 

Now that you are much happier. You could stomach the delicious food. You may not eat meat due to pitying the animals, but you cannot deny it tastes good. 

You would cook meat dishes for the Colonel at the base and your family while on Earth. And to be precise, you would taste your own food to make sure it tastes good. Meat or not. 

The Colonel knew you were trying your best to not complain about eating. He set the plate away then caressed your cheekbone. 

You looked at him confused. Quaritch explained his doctor will secretly come here to check you up. No one is to know of you. 

So it's true. You realized that the Colonel acted on his own to rescue you. If Selfridge found out…

There was a hesitant knock. The Colonel knew that voice. A middle aged man walked in with a medic bag. Like the old days, this doctor visited you instead.

The Colonel stood back with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall and watched the doctor examine you. 

“She is malnourished.” The doctor looked over his shoulder at the Colonel. “She needs a blood transfusion.”

Quaritch nodded. “I will give her my blood.” He didn't hesitate.

The doctor then looked at you. He asked if you ever knew you were pregnant before. 

Your eyes widened and the Colonel kept his calm face but was also surprised inside. 

“I am afraid you lost weight not only from starvation but miscarriage.”

You couldn't help it. You clutched your face and began to cry quietly. That explained you always vomiting in the jungle. The moodiness. 

You remembered your last period. It was more painful than usual. And you felt weird when bathing. Ebe gave you a bucket to wash yourself. While doing so, you felt like something slide off between your legs when cleaning. 

No. 

Your poor baby.

Damn you. It was your fault. 

The Colonel's breath hitched. No doubt that baby was his. After fucking you last before giving you up, you didn't pack anything. Including your pills. 

He killed his own child. Damn him. It was all his fault. 

The Colonel watched you sob he wanted to punch the wall again and make another hole. 

“I will prescribe her depression and insomnia pills.”

The doctor stood up and whispered to the Colonel.

He said he suspected you to be suicidal and should be under all supervision.

The doctor left. Quaritch had a hazed look in his beautiful blue eyes. The doctor will return to start the blood transfer process by bringing the tubes and syringes.

The Colonel made sure to heat up the room even more. He sat next to you after dressing you up in your skirt and blouse. He didn't dress you in your underwear. He was sad as you were to care. While waiting for the doctor to return, the Colonel grabbed your hand and kissed your cold delicate fingers.

It used to be the opposite. He was always the cold one and it would compliment against your warm feathery touches. A knock came again and the doctor started the process. 

Quaritch made sure you got extra blood but the doctor said he cannot do it all at once. Daily with regular transfusion and healthy eating and sunshine will make you good as new again. 

But, since you were a mutant. It will make you recover quicker. Being alone finally, the Colonel stroked your hair. 

“You're very young, and a mutant. You conceived because you didn't pack your pills and missed them for one day. It's impossible to not get knocked up again.” He tried to cheer you up.

You looked out the window. Then looked back at him with more tears. You told him how none of your future pregnancies can replace any child you lost before.

The Colonel said nothing about your answer. He kept his face to the normal stern look. Inside though, he felt warm by your morally right response. He was right about you all along. You didn't show it at first, being a spoiled brat. Rude to him too. 

Maybe it was because he scared you to run to him at first when he almost shut the program. Not to mention, people stereotyped you all your life for always being the most beautiful girl. Assuming you had an easy life and were a snob. 

The Colonel said nothing. He gently made you lay down on the bed and he hovered over you with his biceps caging you and he finally kissed you since the farewell kiss at the fields where he dropped you off. 

He couldn't kiss you with that damn mask he was wearing when he rescued you. 

You felt his callused hands hold your face against his. He immediately snuck his tongue inside and to his surprise, you responded and was bat shit crazy for him as he was for you. You must have been hungry. 

Continuing kissing you. He kicked off his trousers and boxers. He then trailed his lips against your neck. He gently bit you. Then sucked the bruise. He knew you also wanted the same. 

The Colonel moved out of your reach and looked down at your form.

He sighed and shook his head. If someone saw his neck, it would be suspicious. You huffed in disappointment. The Colonel gave you an apologetic look. He removed his tank top. Being bare and ready. He began attacking your perky tits. 

You were so impatient. And he knew it. He wanted to suck your cunt. But to hell with it. Later. He sheathed his cock inside and bullied his shaft inside your wet hole.

He groaned in pain. He knew you didn't get laid in almost three months. But, this is torturous. It was like you were raping him. You looked at him with worry. Quaritch ignored you and dug inside deeper to loosen you up.

Finally, all his inches went inside. Already you felt your juices overflowing your womanhood.

He must have stopped masturbating. You wondered why. 

Moans of pain and not pleasure escaped your fat lips and your nails dug in the shoulder of your lover. You hissed in pain. “Please slow down.”

Quaritch cursed again. “If I stop you will be even tighter before tomorrow.”

Having sex after months of celibacy was hell. Oh, well. As long as you don't get raped. You won't complain. 

“Oh, my fucking God.” The Colonel clenched his jaw. 

Quaritch saw the blood coming out of your vagina. It was working. Hopefully next time it will be easier. He needs to loosen the stronghold clutches of your cunt. 

The Colonel cummed inside and spilled his hot seed. His and your breathings were ragged. With great difficulty, Quaritch slowly pulled out from your greedy vagina. His dick was swollen and red from the pain and not from the blood. 

Damn. That was painful as fuck. It was like his penis was about to explode from the harsh friction. 

He didn't blame you and shouldn't complain. He laid back on the bed next to you catching his breath. He pulled you to his muscular chest.

“We’ll try again.”

You let out a “hmm” as you clung to him. You went back to sleep. Quaritch kissed your nose then closed his eyes again.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring. 

AU: I know I said I am taking a break. But, I forgot I already typed this on my old google docs. I do not want to torture my followers. I will post Anti-America and Anti Israel and Pro Palestine pictures. I am working on my new Yandere! Gellert Grindelwald x Reader. A new version of Lowly Desires.

I will call it Dark Desires. Just to spoil it. I will not add a love triangle. Credence may love Reader Chan but she does not love him and will not have an affair with him.

[hana-no-seiiki]

a/n: first full genshin fic in tumblr let’s go.

we’ve had god readers but what about god complex reader who’s a smartass.

without further ado i present to you the flowers of evil au! (which i will actually explain more in another post but for now have this)

divider by omiyours!

no beta read we die like rukkhadevata’s god friends

summary: reader is basically wanderer but a slut

cw/tw: self indulgent, wish fulfillment, manipulative! reader, asshat/arrogant! reader, implied noncon (reader gets drunk), alhaitham being incredibly horny, alhaitham being a homewrecker, kaveh doesn’t have any self esteem, very snobby ass intellectualism, mary sue/gary stu reader.

pairings: yandere! al-haitham x spy! reader x yandere! kaveh x ? ? ?

“RED ROSES BURN MY EYES”

V O L U M E ( I )

[Y/N] [L/N] is the epitome of perfection. Even amongst the scholars that excelled in their fields, and the sages that basically ruled over the Akademiya. [Y/N] always managed to stand out.

Part of that is what attracted Al-Haitham. They were intelligent, and quick-witted. He found himself effortlessly engaging in conversation for hours when it came to their banters. Everything he was looking for in a partner — both in academics, romantic and sexual side of things — could be found in [Y/N].

But there were two things he had to consider.

The first thing was their awful(ly hot) god complex.

“Told you I’d be correct.” [Y/N] sat atop his desk. Their legs crossed, practically begging to be ripped apart as the scribe fantasized of bending them over the nth time that day.

Their intoxicatingly sweet yet mature scent — of roses and old books — wafted through the air and into his nostrils. It took all he had to not pin them on his table so that he could breathe it in. He wanted their scent to be permanently ingrained within his mind like the languages and manuscripts he’d memorized to heart.

But alas he had to at least maintain a modicum of sanity and control over his hormones. He replied, trying to edge away from their form, “You don’t have to rub it in my face, [L/N].”

But it was getting rather hard when they began leaning over “Fair is fair, Scribe. You get to gloat when you win, and I as well during the many triumphs I have over you. So, what are you supposed to say in this situation?”

“I was wrong to go against your judgement.”

You poke his nose. A mocking grin on your disgustingly pretty features, “I knew you had it in you.”

He could tolerate the first thing. In fact, he found it attractive at times. It’s what attracted him to the idea of dating them; owning them, the desire to rip that smug look on their face. To make their face contort to that of unfettered desire. To bring them down and off their high horse and instead kneeling — yearning for his touch, his lips, his cock.

The second thing was the fact that they were dating his roommate. That darned Kaveh.

“My love.” Al-Haitham could swear Kaveh smirked at him as the latter mouthed his petname for you.

“You’re late.”

“They’re sending me away for a project.”

“What?” Oh, [Y/N]’s concerned face however? Hurt even more. The palpable love between the couple made him want crush the book within his hands and throw its remains across the library. He’d tell you two to get a room if he didn’t want eyes on you 24/7.

“It’s just another construction. I’ll be back soon.”

“Stay safe.”

Al-Haitham couldn’t help but stare at your back while the two of you left him alone.

Was that a smile - no - a smirk on your features?

It was a mistake on your part. You should have known not to get drunk on enemy territory.

But your one success as a spy finally came. You had to celebrate somehow, right?

Wrong.

In your mistake in judgement you found yourself tangled with Al-Haitham of all people. How’d he even get drunk enough to sleep with you anyways? He couldn’t have purposely have sex with you, could he? All your interactions have been those of rivals and friends at most.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“We’re adults [L/N]. You don’t have to act like this.” Stop acting like this. Al-Haitham wanted to scream. He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed your presence so dearly. If only you could see the mess that had been his room and office.

“Exactly. Adults. I can make my own choices and I choose not to interact with you. I’m doing this for the sake of staying civil. For Kaveh.”

“I’ll tell him about your lord.” You paused.

No, you couldn’t have. Your [e/c] orbs slowly turned a velvet red while he continued his speech. Were you that careless? Were the words your co-workers used to describe you true?

That you were an absolutely useless, reckless piece of rot?

“The way you screamed his name while I—“

His? Ah, so he didn’t know their name. You probably just screamed My Lord and he automatically assumed…

He’s bluffing.

“Then go ahead.” You couldn’t help but grin knowing that you finally didn’t mess up in a mission. So what if he said those words to Kaveh, your mission to distract the Light of Kshahrewar had been a success. All you needed was to leave once everything had been finalized and your god had been reborn. “This may not be Focalors’s nation, but this sort of conduct could get you in jail, Scibe.”

“By who? Cyno hates me, sure. But if there’s one person he loathes more than me it’s you.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, [Y/N]. We’ll talk about this now.”

“Why are you so persistent—“

“Because I love you!”

Al-Haitham grabbed unto your face, squeezing so tightly you knew it’d bruise, “I think about you every single day, hour, minute — every damn second even. I can’t get a single paper fully transcribed because I always end up writing your name over and over again as if I’ll forget it any second.”

“That’s impossible. You can’t love me. No. That isn’t supposed to happen.”

“[L/N]. I know you’re a skeptic but doubting my feelings is—“

“You were never my target.”

Al-Haitham gasped as red petals enveloped his entire body.

“My lord. May you forgive this forsaken soul. Grant this servant a place beside your holy being as you ascend—“

His throat, his nose, even his eyes — all burnt under the heavy scent of roses.

“and accept this sacrifice.”

You looked at him solemnly. If only you weren’t so incompetent, he wouldn’t have been roped into this.

Your time with the roommates was fun while it lasted.

“Oh Lord of Flowers.”

[FOOTNOTE:]

In the end, [Y/N] could not kill him. It was always like this. Their missions always went wrong. It’s anyone guess really — why they haven’t been thrown away by their lord. They were defective at best. Completely useless at worst.

So they were commanded to be a honey trap. Someone made to lure in and distract an assigned target while the rest of the Zuhur, came in to assassinate and/or thieve around.

“Kaveh.” You greeted. Shit, you shouldn’t have gone back to his place to check for lose ends. Wasn’t he supposed to be away anyhow? What was he doing in the Akademiya?

“Where are you going?”

“I—I’m leaving.” You had recently finished drugging Al-Haitham and sending him to the sages to deal with. Time was ticking, and you had to be there for when your new master breathes his first as a brand new god. “to get some samples for research. Meet up with the Forest Rangers and all that.”

“Does lying to me get you off or something?” Kaveh stopped you in your tracks, he didn’t have to hold you still, the hurt in his voice was enough.“I know about it. About your affair with Haitham.”

“Then—“

“And I’m fine with it.”

“What?”

“You- You can meet up with him all you like. I already knew someone like me couldn’t possibly satisfy a being such as you.”

“Just don’t leave me ever. Please?”

“Kaveh . . .”

“I promise to never get between you guys. I swear I-I’m not jealous at all. You deserve to receive all the love you can get.”

“Kaveh!” You cried. Who was this person? The Kaveh you knew was loud and boisterous. In fact, you used him and Al-Haitham as a basis to create [Y/N]. The prodigy of the Akademiya.

Who was this weak, broken person that trembled in front of you.

“You deserve someone better than me, alright? Not the other way around.”

“What…?”

“Stay safe and get as far away as you can from the Grand Sage in the next few weeks alright?” You continued your journey away, only stopping to say a few words, “I love you. Truly.”

“If you love me, why would leave me?!”

“I have to.” You clenched your hands, and disappeared.

“(Wardati) وردتي … “

TRANSLATIONS:

flowers = zuhur

وردتي = my rose