#no murder darling
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wh0re43van · 1 year ago
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“I need him biblically,,, I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism.”
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Currently rewatching asylum for the first time since it aired. Evan really put his whole evussy into this role stg đŸ™đŸ»
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months ago
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Yandere Short Stories: Not the Same
Yandere Surgeon x Ex-Fiancée Fem Reader
TW: medical malpractice, horror, obsession, yanderre themes, unhealthy behaviors, blood, gore, murder, etc.
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A loud, frustrated scream ripped through Darius’s throat before various surgical instruments clattered to the floor. This experiment had been yet another failure

“You’re supposed to sweetly ask me how my day is!” Darius screamed at his patient who held their arms over their head in a fetal position.
“I-I didn’t know-“ The patient screamed when Darius stomped his foot into their back side over the fresh incisions. Loud, pained wails left the patient’s throat as they crumbled to the floor. Apologies bubbled through their throat.
“She would have never made such a mistake
” Darius sighed as he turned to his scalpel. That’s right, his darling fiancĂ©e would have gave him a big smile and rushed into his arms
 she’d never be so uncouth.
Darius grasped a scalpel from off the floor, his gray eyes reflected off the shiny surface. There was only one way to fix such a grave mistake he’s made

Darius swung his fist into the patient, the scalpel now deeply imbedded into their eye socket. One last, pathetic wail left their lips before they laid in a pool of their own blood on the once pristine floor in a grotesque halo.
Darius rubbed the small bit of blood that splattered on his face with disgust. This wasn’t the same
 it wasn’t her. This failure of an experiment could never compare to his perfect fiancĂ©e
 his (your name).
“I wonder when you’ll come back to me
” Darius softly whispered to himself, his eyes studied the pool of blood in disinterest. “How many more of your little dates do I have to mutilate and dispose of until you become mine again?”
Darius thought for a moment before he studied the corpse’s ears in interest. Maybe he should send his beloved a little present? That should get the ball rolling.
Darius yanked the scalpel out of the patient’s eye before he sucked in a breath. This was all for her own good
 he’d make her see that he was the best choice. By force.
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redroses07 · 7 months ago
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real shit
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xx-sketchy-xx · 1 year ago
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Oh noes! he doesn’t have one!
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cold-kitty · 9 months ago
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The winner of this week's poll was... Yandere Murderer/Serial Killer!
Includes: murder (not darling), nsfw (not with darling), stalking, a little fluff, cameras
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Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer that had planned to kill you as his next victim.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stalks you to figure out your routine to find when you're most vulnerable, but he ends up finding you cute.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't kill you right away just for his entertainment, he wants to figure out what makes you tick and use it against you. you're so cute when you're angry!
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to see you as an actual person and not just someone for him to kill, which is a first.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to really like you, who waits until you're not at home before installing discreet cameras in your house.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you in his free time, every second of it.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who touches himself when you do, zooming in on your hand on your genitals.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to leave you little gifts. your favorite candy bar? you suddenly have one. you like a certain animal? you have a new plushie. you wanna watch a movie? you suddenly have the DVD. he loves seeing your face light up every time you get a gift.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels enraged when someone picks on you. how fucking dare they! they should be hung on a meat hook like the animal they are!
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels his heart sink when he sees the look on your face when you find the body of the person, he wanted to comfort you. he would be more careful hiding the bodies now. there's also an onslaught of gifts the next day.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who finally, finally decides to take you. he makes sure he's gentle with you, he doesn't dare inject you with anything, he uses a simple cloth dipped in chloroform. he doesn't want to restrain you, but he's scared you'll run off.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who holds you until you wake up, rocking you gently.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who's genuinely so happy to have you now, even if you're scared or don't like him.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who showers you in gifts and love, who cuddles you while still respecting your personal space. he doesn't dare to force you into anything with him, he loves you too much.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't stop trying, who waits patiently for your love even if it hurts him.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stops killing people for you, he knows you don't like it and he doesn't like how scared it makes you.
If you end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he immediately starts breaking down in happy tears. he's clinging to you, burying his head in your neck or chest, desperately kissing anything he can. he's so goddamn happy, he's waited so long for this.
If you don't end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he'll just wait, he needs you to love him back.
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How was this for my first fic? Feel free to ask for expansions of this idea, like darlings that act in a certain way. Mean, willing, scared, etc..
~🐈‍⬛
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fear-is-truth · 2 months ago
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NASTY – tate langdon x f!reader
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tags: mature content 18+・fem!reader・smut・unprotected p in v・mirror sex ・choking
a/n: super rushed due to school n shit.
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you came home from school early, greeted briefly by moira as you walked in. everything felt normal, like any other day. you climbed the stairs, expecting to find tate sprawled out on your bed, waiting for you like always.ïżŒïżŒ
but when you opened the door just a crack, you saw him at your desk, not on your bed. his back was hunched over your laptop, lips slightly parted, cheeks tinged pink, and brows furrowed in concentration. your stomach twisted in a strange mix of shock and amusement, watching him for a moment, trying not to laugh. you nudged the door open a bit more, letting it creak this time. his head snapped up at the sound, eyes wide with panic.
“shit—!” he hissed, slamming the laptop shut so fast you thought the screen might crack, before frantically fumbling with his belt and jeans.
you frowned, walking over before he could say anything. without thinking, you opened the laptop back up. the screen flickered on, and your face immediately flushed with heat. porn. he had been watching porn on your laptop. it wasn’t anything too freaky, but the actress
 she looked a lot like you. same skin tone, hair, eyes. you stared at the screen for a second longer, before pausing the video. then turned to him, biting back a smile. “seriously, tate?”
his face was still flushed as he avoided your gaze, picking at a strand on his ripped jeans. “i
 i missed you,” he mumbled, “you were gone all day, and
 well
” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed and fumbling for any excuse.
“so, you thought this was a good idea?” you teased, gesturing toward the laptop. “you know you didn’t need porn, right?” tate looked up at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, unsure if he should be relieved or more embarrassed. “wait, what?”
you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to the side of his neck. “i’m right here. you don’t need that anymore.”
‱‱‱
you were lying in a tangled heap of limbs on the mattress, your clothes discarded carelessly on the floor. curling an arm around your torso, tate flipped you over to lay flat on your stomach. warm palms pressed onto the globes of your ass, fingers kneading the soft flesh. he drew back one hand before bringing it down firmly, the smack ringing in your ears. “you like it when i’m nasty, don’t you?” he gritted out in a voice that was slightly more raspy than his own.
“y-yeah.” you managed breathlessly, the rapid beating of your heart in your chest was suffocating. you knew that tate was only re-enacting the porn video he had been watching, but the dominance sent a rush of desire through your loins.
“hm, good girl.” he ran his forefinger slowly down your folds, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “haven’t even touched you and you’re so wet for me already.” the pad of his finger circled your entrance, spreading your wetness. you whimpered and wiggled you hips hopefully, desperate to feel some sort of friction to free you of the ache between your legs. “so needy for my cock, hm?”
tate leaned back to sit on his ankles, kneading your asscheeks before spreading you open; exposing your pussy. already swollen and dripping, eager for him to use. he wrapped his fingers around his member and gave himself a few harsh pumps, before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. your breath hitched when you felt the tip breaching your hole, precum mingling with your slick.
he rocked forwards and bottomed out in one single thrust, a whimper escaped your lips, fingers clawing at the bedsheets. the sudden intrusion stung, and you were used to more prep and a much slower pace, but the second he pulled out and slammed back into you, you almost choked on your own spit. gone was the burning sting of the stretch in your cunt, replaced by euphoric pleasure. each thrust hit deep within you, the ridges and veins mapping his cock sliding against your walls before pulling all the way back before slamming himself to the hilt.
not slowing down his pace, rough hands closed around your shoulders and pulled you upwards flush against his chest, arching your back like a strung bow and pinning your wrists behind your back. a strained moan sounded from above you, the delicious way your tight walls milked his cock only spurring him to fuck you with abandon.
fingers tangled in your hair and yanked your head back, practically folding you in half. tate admired the way your eyes bulged and rolled backwards as you met his gaze, slack-jawed and a glistening string of saliva on your chin.
“hngmm– ack!”
you spluttered when the grip he had on your hair tightened, the tip of his cock nudging your g-spot sending sparks exploding under your eyelids. the constantly moving shadow of your joined bodies danced across the wall opposite the bed, and you felt tate’s lips brush lightly against your ear, warm breath tickling your skin.
“i want you to look in the mirror and see yourself, taking my cock so well.” his voice was dangerously soft, the filthy words squeezed through clenched teeth as he continued to piston himself inside you, the flesh of your ass rippling with each forceful slam. tate’s hand snaked to the column of your throat, four fingers digging against one side of your neck while his thumb occupied the other, rubbing slow circles along your jugular.
you gulped for air when he slackened his grip around your neck, oxygen filling your lungs with a sting. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, looking like a complete wreck — skin glistening with sweat, breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts.
“ugh f-fuck, m’ gonna cum.” he grunted as your cunt tightened around him like a vice. and yet he persevered in his pace, continuing to thrust into you despite the fact that his movements were starting to get sloppier by the second. your vision momentarily turned white as you screamed out your climax, velvety walls pulsating around him, falling apart from the force of your pleasure. you felt him still against your body, chin resting on your shoulder before he spilled himself inside of you, pumping you to the brim with his come.
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ïŁ© fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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etoile-star · 3 months ago
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Why make them hot if their a killer?? Why make then be morally grey if their gonna be boyfriend shapped?
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dangeroustaintedflawed · 4 months ago
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 8 months ago
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i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostfaceÂĄ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered
i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind
 i love it
 anyway
 :)
~~~
Lovefool
Tate Langdon x f!reader
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warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use
 virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you
summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you
 anything

word count: 4.4
~~~
2011
You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.
He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”
“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.
Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.
“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.
“What question?” He responds.
“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”
~~~
1993
Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.
You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.
The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.
What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?
Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.
At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.
It was around that time that he had found the mask.
It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.
He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.
Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.
He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.
“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.
“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”
Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.
Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.
~~~
The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.
However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.
So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.
He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.
After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”
Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.
“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.
“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?
“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.
“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”
You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”
“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.
“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.
Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.
“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.
“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.
He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”
He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.
~~~
“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.
Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”
“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.
“It’s seventy degrees.”
“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”
Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”
Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.
So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.
It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.
On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.
“Is this really for me?” You asked.
“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.
You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”
“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”
“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”
Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.
“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”
You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.
~~~
The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.
“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”
You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.
“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”
You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.
“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.
“Nothing,” you replied.
“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”
You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is
 scary.”
“How is it scary?” He laughed.
“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.
“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.
“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”
“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.
You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”
“Well, is that what this is about?”
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.
“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.
“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”
Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”
You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.
“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”
His heart practically stopped. “What?”
“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”
Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.
As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.
You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.
He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.
He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.
When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.
You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.
You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”
“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”
He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.
“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”
Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”
“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”
“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”
He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.
“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”
You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.
“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”
“What?” You asked.
“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.
~~~
2011
“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”
All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.
Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.
You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”
“So?”
You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”
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likablenightmare · 1 year ago
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I.. uh..YES. I’m down. Sorry guys.. are u mad at me?
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americanwh0rerstory · 4 months ago
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The evans: sex after a fight
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CONTAINS: Tate, kyle, jimmy, james
Content warning: dacryphillia, choking kink, unprotected p in v, knife play, blood play, finger sucking
NSFW: Minors DNI. by reading past the cut off any media consumption is your own fault
A/N: it’s my first time writing smut, so it’s poorly written. hopefully it’ll improve in the future🙏
Tate Langdon
feels guilty for arguing with you
doesn’t want to lose you
is gentle and loving with you
holds your hand whilst he fucks you, murmuring apologies in between thrusts
cuddles and aftercare afterwards

 after giving you a half hour to be alone, he slinked back into your room, bringing you into a gentle hug whilst he ran his hand up and down your back. “sorry” he mumbled almost inaudibly into your hair whilst holding you against his chest. “lemme make it up to you” he whispered gently whilst beginning to pull your hoodie over your head, and slipping your panties down so they were bunched around your ankles. he then gently pushed you back onto the bed, laying you down before crawling atop you; he peppered gently kisses along your neck before slowly becoming more needy and aggressive with them, leaving small hickeys in his wake whilst he trailed down your body, whilst he laced his fingers with your own. he also paid extra attention to your tender and sensitive breasts, using his free hand to line his dick with your entrance and slowly push into you whilst he kissed your body. “i love you, im sorry” he mumbled in between gentle thrusts, and kitten licks to your boobs
Frat boy!Kyle Spencer
would not fuck you after a fight unless you explicitly said you wanted it
cuddles, snacks, drinks, and a movie night would be his go to apology for you
if you were to have sex, he’d do so gently and constantly ask for your consent
doesn’t want to make you mad, very mindful of your triggers
“is this good, do you like it?” kyle asks, lifting his head from between your thighs and looking up at you through his lashes with slightly disheveled hair; all he wanted to do was make you feel better - as per your request - and he wouldn’t stop trying until he knew you was happy with him again. “Ky i would’ve stopped you by now it i didn’t like it” you responded gently, using your hands to cup the back of his head and lightly tug on his hair so he would continue, and after a small hum of agreement he did just that. his lips latched around your clit and gently sucked, before using the flat of his tongue to run along your slit. everything he did brought waves of pleasure to you, everything he did would bring you closer and closer to climax. so when you eventually did, he’d look up at you with glistening lips, “was that good? did you like it?” he’d ask almost instantly, hoping his oral skills were good enough to make you forgive him
Jimmy Darling
would lose his temper and drink A LOT before coming to talk to you again
is a mess but gets his point across
uses his hands because he knows how good he is with them (remember his side hustle)
very apologetic after the sex and the next morning
“there ya go, let go baby” he slurs drunkenly to you, his deformed fingers pumping in and out of your tight and wet entrance and bringing you over the edge for the 3rd time that night. tears of pleasure and overstimulation pricked at the corner of your eyes, causing him to smirk ever so slightly “want me to stop, toots?” he’d ask in his ever so cocky tone, looking down at your spent body with a look of satisfaction. even though you had to guide his hand you entrave due to his drunken state, he never once failed to impress you with his abilities, it was just one of many. Once you finally blubbered out a ‘yes’ in response to his question he’d lick his fingers clean, savouring your taste, before gently laying down beside you. “you still mad at me? want me to do another round?” he mumbled with an undeniable smirk plastered on his face, flashing you his charming grin and a wink
James Patrick March
would spoil you with gifts in a hope to earn back your love, he doesn’t wanna risk losing it
would offer to murder someone for you, and let you partake if it’s your kinda thing
definitely have sex with you whilst covered in blood afterwards
showers you with compliments
despite you being mad at him, he couldn’t resist a little bit of minor knife and blood play
“I killed him, dearest” james states with a grin when he re-enters your hotel room, still wearing the leather mask he wore for the murders which slightly muffled his velvet-smooth brahmin accent. without taking his mask off, he drags the bloodied dagger along your clothes perfectly so they’d fall off and expose your body to him. “you look ravishing as always, like a renaissance piece” he’d say with a grin, a grin so big it was evidential in his voice. He gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth, the metallic taste of someone’s blood filling your senses. “come now, let me show you how perfect and ravishing you are” he’d say, using his free hand to gently push you back onto the bed. he’d then remove all his clothes aside from the mask, sliding himself into you with a soft groan. “perfect, heavenly even” he murmurs before removing his hand from your mouth and wrapping it lightly around your throat, not enough to hurt but just enough that it was pleasurable. he pumped in and out of you, lightly choking you whilst secretly staring at how your boobs bounced with every thrust, prompting him to go a bit faster and bring him to his inevitable climax. “you’re simply splendid, dear, not even words can describe how perfect you are”
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A/N: i was gonna inclure kai but tumblr started lagging rlly bad. my requests r open. NOT PROOFREAD BTW
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allurilove · 6 months ago
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Yandere x Zombie you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: He’s depressed, gore, murder, death?, he steals someone’s teeth, he tries to fuck you with his
 thing, and kidnapping.
*Sorry for not posting! I had to watch TWD to finish this and omg Rick is so fineeeeee. This is pretty unedited. This is also the third fic, and you can read the first, and second for better understanding! He is referred to as “your stalker.” This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: You left him. He fell into a deep depression, not being able to function normally, and he tries to find you again. But trouble seems to follow him where ever he goes, and he has a little run in with a human.
This has been the second time you left him.
When he lifted his head back up, he saw that you were gone. He wiped his tears away and he stayed there on his knees. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there for, his knees slowly becoming numb, and sinking into the ground. He feels the weather change, how cool it becomes when it’s night, and how the birds chirp during the day. He feels the rain pelt him, he sees the grass grow, and the leaves fall down and sees the arrays of yellow and brown. His hair has become longer, a huge bush on his face, and he didn’t know how to function. He didn’t eat, didn’t move, and barely took care of himself. He ignored how his stomach would growl, or how it feels like his body would cave in itself at any moment.
He is now just a part of the sea of zombies, that would be eventually wiped out for human civilization to thrive again. He and you—would be gone. He hoped that there was a way to reverse this. His body has already gone through so much, he’s been eaten on, and generally looked like shit.
If his heart was beating, it would ache. Day and night, he doesnt move from his spot. He doesn’t acknowledge all of the wildlife checking him out, the occasional bunny or deer would sniff him, and he wouldn’t move. He was still as a statue, his eyes hollow, and his limbs were stiff. Soon enough, he flopped over and laid on his back, and stared at the stars.
He would imagine that you were still with him. That you would comment how the stars were so bright, and he would say that they couldn’t hold a candle to you. He would imagine that you two would have a little picnic— to be able to eat edible food instead of human carcass. He would imagine himself wearing his best, and that you would be in yours. That you would treat every outing with him as a date. He would imagine that you and him lived together, eventually getting married, and die old together.
If he died first, he would wish you to live your best life. And if you died first, he would join you. His best life wouldn’t come to fruition if you weren’t living. There was no point being on earth if you werent there with him.
He felt like he was stuck, his body glued to the ground, before he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He never understood the whole concept of being a zombie, he’s been one for a while, and he feels like he’s failing miserably at it. He touched the bite mark you previously left on him, he sighed as he felt the ridges of your teeth marks, and he closed his eyes.
He would stay there— imaging what his whole life would be like if you just accepted him.
It’s now been years since he has seen you. He has been walking up and down the roads, hiding from humans with guns or knives, and he tried to find you. He wished you didn’t hate him. Or that the damn city you two were in wasn’t so huge.
Your stalker learned a lot from the short time he was with you. You taught him that he didn’t have to ask humans for permission, and that he could just eat them. It was odd at first, and he had to force himself out of the habit of pointing to the human and then back at his mouth. But eventually, he started to feast. To be able to find and recognize the human scent. To be able to spread the virus person to person. He hoped that you would be proud of him.
He continued his journey north, and he found himself at the same place he was last time— when he woke up as a zombie. He first grabbed a bag that was tossed aside, covered in dirt and blood. He then started to find the essentials: razor blades, scissors, rope (to tie you up with), and combs. He then came across a CVS, picking up some magazines incase he gets bored. He hesitated as his hand went to grab some condoms. And he slowly looked down at his crotch. His thing, was officially retired ever since he cut it off and sewed it back on, and he doubts it works like a normal penis does. He dropped the condoms and pushed the door open, and he went back on the road.
He started to learn about the things that zombies do. He also learned that there weren’t many zombies that had the same capabilities like him. Most of them seemed to just run on instinct, and bite at whatever they could. So, it was hard to make any friends.
He came across a restroom at what was presumably a rest stop. He entered the bathroom, and opened his bag. He scrubbed his face clean, and brought out the razor blade. He gently pressed it onto his jaw, praying that he doesn’t nick his skin. Slowly his beard started to disappear, and he then took the scissors started to trim, and style his hair. He looked more presentable this time, and he still looked
 dead. But he couldn’t fix that somehow.
He found a man that looked like he was around his size
 and your stalker slowly looked down at the pants he was currently wearing. The jeans he wore were tight. And he was pretty sure he was chafing down there, and it was awkward to waddle after your victim. No one exactly took him seriously when he wore pants like these. He bends down and he inspects the dead body, his hands grazing over the full set of teeth the man had.
Dental
 was pretty hard to keep up with. He began to pull and even try to bite out the man’s teeth, his hand gripped the man’s lower jaw and he snapped it off. He wanted to find a way to take his jaw off and sew the man’s onto his face, but he ended up just stealing each tooth instead. He shoved them into the slots that were missing teeth, and a couple were stubborn. Not willing to be in a strangers mouth, so he had to force them into his gums.
Your stalker felt like a new man.
It’s been a couple of years since you left him in the woods. You took the opportunity to flee without him noticing, and anyone would be foolish not to do so. You ran for your life, or as fast as your feet could carry you, and you disappeared from him forever.
You traveled up north, dragging your feet to a rest stop, and you passed a body that was missing teeth and pants. Weird.
You’re pretty hungry, your mouth filled with chunks of flesh as you tear the man’s legs apart. You barely swallow and you feel the meat slide down your gullet.
You soon find yourself at a cemetery. It felt like you cheated “death.” All of these people below you, once lived their life to the fullest and unknowingly escaping the apocalypse. While you, a undead being, had to live through it. You were respectful and mindful of where you stepped, and you read some of the tombstones. It was clear everyone here was loved, a bunch of decorations were still up, and vases surrounded each one. Despite the flowers becoming wilted overtime, you knew how much thought and care their loved ones put into it.
You notice a trail of blood on the ground, and you curiously followed it. It was odd to see that, especially in an area as pristine and untouched as the cemetery. You continue to follow it, your feet leading you up to a grave that was dug up. A huge pile of dirt on the side and the gravestone next to it. You wondered if someone crawled out of their grave.
You peer down curiously, trying to look past the clumps of dirt and blood, and you see some skin and bones poking out. A hand twitching and grabbing onto the air as if it wanted to be pulled out.
You waved a branch around above the hand. You weren’t about to sacrifice your body for this random thing. You watched as the hand paused as the branch hit it a couple of times, but then it surged up, grabbing onto the branch. You almost fall into the pit, but your feet plant you onto the ground. You pull and pull, and you see a head stick out.
Your stalker coughed as he was pulled out of his tortuous doom. His eyes immediately land onto yours. They seem to widen, and fill with tears immediately. His top half of his body was now out of the ground, and he wiggled around to hug you. You quickly maneuver your body out of the way, and he hugged a pile of dirt instead. His face nuzzling against nature, his lips puckering into a kiss, and he pulled back as his tongue tasted a worm.
Your stalker whined for you. He threw a little tantrum and all of his frustrations were voiced into little “ooh-“ or “ungh” or “mggggh.” He just wished you could understand him! He’s gone through hell and back just to find you.
Your stalker was so hungry that he used his nose to find a scent of a human, his feet leading him to the cemetery. All until he fell into a pit, dirt falling on top of him and he felt suffocated.
You gape at him, almost impressed by how he seems to pull his whole body up with a wiggle. All of the wind is knocked out of you as he pushed himself on top of you. He seemed to be grateful, his lips pressing kisses on your neck, and his hands hold your hips close to his. If he could speak correctly it would all be praises and compliments.
He then began to gesture at his crotch.
You immediately shook your head to say no, and he pouted. He pointed again. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and still said no. He then gestured at your crotch with a sheepish smile, a tiny peek of his pink tongue sticking out.
It took everything within you to not shove him down the pit.
He pulled his pants down, right below his ass, and he shimmed his cock out. It was floppy, not hard and couldn’t get hard since his blood couldn’t flow into it. He bit his lip as he tried to undo the pink stitches.
You haven’t gotten
 laid in a while, and there was a man offering himself right in front of you. He pulled at the stitches, undoing the pink thread and his cock hangs off his body. He leans down, using his new teeth to cut it off.
When he got it off, he frowned as his cock was just limp in his hand. He then got an idea. He rammed the branch into his manhood, and he finally got it to stand proud. It sort of looked like a hotdog on a stick. But now he was able to control and maneuver his dick inside you.
He first wanted to see it in your mouth, and to see your cute lips wrapped around his pulsing tip. But you know, this will work for now. He got you to part your lips, his dick prodding its way into your throat.
God it tasted disgusting.
He held your face with one hand, the other pushing his cock in and out of your throat. Your saliva coating it all.
You pulled down your pants, spreading a bit of your legs apart, and you tensed up as he aligned his tip to your entrance. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the mangled cock press inside you.
Your stalker been wanting to be with you, and he can’t help but be a bit jealous of the makeshift dildo he made. But he watched with interest, his face close as the dick slides out of you, and his tongue flicked your hole to help with lubrication.
Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you and mark you as his, but the faces you make as his dick stretched you out so nicely
 Fuck. He watched your toes curl, your back arching off the ground, and just to see your legs shake was enough for him.
He pressed kisses on your stomach, his face nuzzling into your body as he moved his hand to pump his cock faster into you.
He would tell you to cum, he would tell you how great you look, and how he would love to eat you out more. But his voice is just soft grunts. As you closed your eyes, the arousal building in your stomach— his hand grabbing his rope from his bag. He pulled the cock out of you, tossing it to the side and he forced you into your stomach. He quickly wrapped your thighs together, your hands, and he took off his shirt to gag you.
You wouldn’t be able to run away from him, you won’t be able to scream, and he smiles hard.
Allure: Not proud of this one. tysm for 870+ followers!!! đŸ«¶đŸ» It always makes me nervous to see my account growing, and the fact that many people want to see my writing 😬
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egophiliac · 2 years ago
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the juxtaposition between "it's pronounced Fae of Maleficence, but it means Blessing!" is sure an interesting choice there, Mal.
still not 100% happy with this one, but I know I keep overworking it, so I think I need to just be done! getting all the important elements in without overcrowding it turned out to be more of a challenge than I anticipated. :')
(also, we're going to have to wait at least a month to find out what it even does exactly, uggghhh I'm so impatient)
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redroses07 · 3 months ago
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double-features · 2 months ago
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idk man i woke up one day and decided "this is going to be the dude i think about every day" and ran with it
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cold-kitty · 8 months ago
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can I maybe request a willing (and maybe really affectionate) reader with the serial killer yandere? I love your writing!
Of course! Thank you by the way!
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Contains: Fluff, Stockholm Syndrome
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Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who expected you to be scared, pissed, just upset in general, so he made sure that he held you close while you were still unconscious so that he could savor what he thought would be the last moments of closeness with you.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who isn't surprised when you're scared, he expected it.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who tries to make himself the least threatening as possible, nervously handing you a cute little teddy bear he found with shaking hands. and, to his surprise, you take it.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches as you take hold of it with your own shaking hands, nervous for your reaction.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you accept it, a shaky attempt at a smile twitching on your lips. he's relieved, to say the least.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who keeps getting you small gifts, happy that you're quickly becoming comfortable with him.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who decides to risk it all one night.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who waits until a stormy night, one with lightning and thunder and all that, and he comes into your room. his voice shakes in fear as he asks you the million dollar question. "can I sleep with you tonight? I have a phobia of storms..."
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who almost lunges at you when you say he can, but he forces himself to stay calm and slowly climb into your bed.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who itches to snuggle up to you, fingers twitching with the want- the need -to hold you.
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who jumps out of his skin when you say that he can get as close as he wants, how did you know!?
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who latches onto you like a baby monkey, spooning you as gently as he lets himself.*
Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who notices how nonchalantly you act around him, and soon you're living with him as if he hadn't kidnapped you.
(BONUS: he doesn't care about spooning positions. you want to be the big spoon? hell yes. you want to be the little spoon? hell yes.)
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He is such a sweetheart <3 (he has committed ATROCITIES)
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