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syerra-637 · 5 days ago

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The final decision is yours.

(Yandere!king x fem reader)

A/n ¹: Probably the longest fic I've posted so far and I plan on surpassing myself. Consider this my gift to start 2025 off right ;) Trigger warnings: yandere themes, anst, physical violence, murder, psychological manipulation, abuse of power, confinement, verbal abuse, abusive relationships, humiliation, sexual tension, death themes Summary: Life was like a long and quiet river, until that fateful day. How could you have known that this chain of decisions would lead to such a tragedy? Word count: 5.9k

The hunting season was open, a period you dreaded every year. The peaceful woods surrounding your modest cottage transformed into a noisy playground for arrogant nobles. They paraded on horseback, their laughter echoing through the forest, taking cruel pleasure in hunting and killing poor animals. Fortunately, your refuge was nestled in a secluded corner, far from the beaten path. It was rare for anyone to venture here, and you relied on this isolation to preserve your peace.

That evening, however, a storm was brewing. The rain poured in torrents, hammering the roof of your cottage, while lightning streaked across the dark sky. The wind, cold and violent for the season, swept through the trees, making the branches crack. Sitting at your wooden table, a steaming bowl of soup and a piece of bread in front of you, you let your thoughts wander. The fire crackled in the hearth, spreading a comforting warmth, but a dull anxiety weighed on you.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps in the mud pulled you from your reverie. You froze, straining to listen. It wasn’t a mere animal. These footsteps were heavy, assured… human. Your heart raced as someone knocked violently on your door.

You remained still, holding your breath. Maybe they would leave eventually, you thought. Maybe they would believe the house was abandoned. But this illusion was quickly shattered when a deep, authoritative voice rose from the other side of the door:

— "We know someone is here. Open the door immediately!"

You shivered. They had probably spotted the smoke rising from the chimney. You hesitated, staring at the door as if it might give way to the force of their voice.

— "Open up, or we’ll break down the door!"

The tone was unmistakable. These men were not here to ask politely. A cold fear gripped you. Who were they? Lost hunters? Or worse? You knew your refuge would not protect you for long against their determination.

Your heart pounded as you slowly approached the door. You unlocked it carefully, but left the chain in place, making sure it opened just a crack. In the doorway, you scrutinized the figures standing in the pouring rain.

There were four of them. The first, a small young boy, seemed to be a squire. He wore simple clothes, drenched by the downpour, and his face showed more nervousness than determination. The next two, clearly nobles, were more imposing. One of them, the one who had spoken earlier with an imperious voice, seemed agitated, his features tight with suppressed anger.

But it was the last man who caught all your attention. He stood slightly apart, yet he dominated the scene with his mere presence. His youth and beauty were striking; his elegant but powerful build inspired a strange combination of respect and fear. His luxurious clothes, adorned with embroidery and shimmering jewels despite the dim light, indicated he was not an ordinary noble. A member of the high nobility. There was no doubt about it. Perhaps even royalty.

You swallowed hard before asking a question in a calm but wary voice:

— What do you want?

You didn’t miss their reaction. The moment your voice broke the silence, their faces showed palpable surprise. They exchanged looks, as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. You guessed why: they had probably assumed a man lived here, isolated from the rest of the world.

The man who had spoken earlier answered, his voice slightly softened but still authoritative:

— Shelter and food for the night.

He took a step forward, clearly trying to make you more visible in the darkness. You could analyze them in detail thanks to the firelight behind you, but to them, you were just a silhouette in the backlight.

You hesitated, but finally declared firmly:

— I am a woman, and there is no man in this house. It would not be proper to let you in.

A silence fell, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. Then, the man who seemed to be the leader of the group exclaimed, clearly perplexed:

— What? You don’t live with any man?

You took a deep breath and lied without flinching:

— Yes, I am married. But my husband is not here at the moment.

The nobleman frowned, and you saw him exchange a quick glance with the royal figure, who had remained silent until now. The latter gave a slight smile, but it wasn’t warm. It was an enigmatic, almost predatory smile, and it chilled you to the bone.

— Then we have nothing to fear, he finally said in a low, velvety voice. We will stay only one night.

You hesitated for a long moment. Their presence was oppressive, and every fiber of your being screamed at you not to let them in. But the wind howled outside, and the storm rumbled so fiercely that even you, warm inside, shivered. If you left them outside, they might break down the door, and you weren’t sure you could resist them.

Finally, with cautious resignation, you closed the door just enough to remove the chain, then opened it reluctantly. The men entered one by one, bringing with them the smell of rain, wet leather, and earth.

The small squire apologized timidly as he dropped a soaked bag near the door. The two nobles remained standing, casting curious glances around the modest room. But it was the king who drew all your attention, despite yourself. He didn’t move much, simply staring at the flames with an almost unsettling intensity.

— You have a charming house, he finally murmured, his low, controlled voice resonating strangely in the confined space.

You didn’t respond, merely nodding as you closed the door behind them. Your instincts screamed at you not to turn your back, but you had to go fetch blankets for your guests.

— If you would follow me, you said in a voice that tried to sound assured. I only have one room for sleeping, but it will suffice.

You pointed to a small adjacent room, usually used for storing wood and provisions, but which could offer them temporary shelter. The squire and the two nobles settled there without much ceremony, removing their soaked coats.

The king, however, remained in the main room. He had moved toward the fireplace and was observing the flames with an almost disturbing intensity.

— Aren’t you joining your men? you asked, trying to mask your discomfort.

He turned his head slightly toward you, a cryptic smile curling his lips.

— No. I prefer the company here.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. It wasn’t so much his words as the way he said them. Slowly, he sat down in the chair you had occupied earlier, his eyes never truly leaving you.

— You are brave, he continued. Living alone, so far from everything. Few women would have the strength for it.

You lowered your gaze, trying not to respond to what you perceived as a provocation.

— I manage, you replied simply, grabbing a clean bowl. Would you like some soup?

— With pleasure.

You hurried to fill a bowl, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze. You could feel his eyes on you, like a physical presence. When he took the bowl from your hands, his fingers briefly brushed yours. That contact felt like an electric shock.

— Thank you, he said softly, his smile still present.

The evening continued in a heavy silence. The other men seemed tired and did not leave their room, but the king stayed with you, occasionally asking innocuous questions: how long had you lived here? Why so far from civilization? Had you never been afraid?

Each of your answers seemed to fascinate him more. His dark, piercing eyes rarely left your face. At times, you felt like he was studying you, as if he were trying to uncover all your secrets.

You tried not to give him too much attention, but he had a magnetic aura that made it impossible. The later the night went, the more vulnerable you felt under his gaze, like a prey aware that it was being hunted.

— You are quite charming, he finally murmured, almost to himself. A woman like you shouldn’t be living alone in a place like this.

You didn’t respond, but your silence didn’t seem to bother him. He merely continued to watch you, his smile becoming more enigmatic, almost possessive.

It wasn’t until he finally stood up to join the others that you could breathe again. But even then, you knew this night would be long. You could still feel his gaze on you, even in his absence, like a heavy shadow that would not leave you.

The night was long and difficult. Sleep didn’t come easily, and every little noise made you jump. The creaking of the wood under the wind, the rustling of the trees in the rain… everything seemed amplified in the oppressive silence of your house. Several times, you woke up with a start, the fear of what these men might do keeping you awake.

Finally, unable to find peace, you got up and sat by the window. The sky was still cloudy, but a few stars pierced through the gaps. You stared at their distant glow, hoping their light would bring you some comfort.

Suddenly, a movement behind you made you shiver.

— You’re not sleeping, my dear?

The royal's low, smooth voice broke the silence. You slowly turned around, finding him standing in the doorway, dressed in a simple doublet that accentuated his imposing build. He was looking at you, a curious smile on his lips.

— I could say the same to you, you replied, weary and tired.

He let out a small laugh, clearly delighted by your retort.

— Touche, he said, stepping closer to look out the window. Oh, look! You can see the constellation of Cassiopeia. You know, in legends, she represents a queen. Beautiful, but proud.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

— Mhm, you replied simply, turning your gaze back to the stars.

In truth, you didn’t know much about constellations, and you had no desire for him to start talking about myths or fairy tales, especially at this hour. And if you were to be honest, you had never been very interested in such discussions, even less with him.

A silence settled, heavy and strange. For you, it was almost an enjoyable moment; you could finally savor a little tranquility, even in his presence. But it seemed that this silence bothered him.

— I hope your husband will be back soon, he suddenly said. It’s not good for a delicate creature like you to be alone here too long. Who knows who… or what you might come across.

You felt a wave of contempt rise within you. The word "husband" had been spoken in a strange way, both venomous and sarcastic, as if the idea disgusted him while not convincing him. He was staring at you with a piercing look, probably trying to detect a flaw in your lie.

Inside, you couldn’t help but mock him.

My poor, if only you knew how long “the delicate creature” I am has been living alone here…

But you showed nothing on your face.

— He’ll probably be back tomorrow, you replied in a neutral tone, hoping to end the conversation.

He looked at you for a moment longer, then a strange smile stretched across his lips. He hummed a tune you didn’t recognize before turning away, heading back to the room where his companions were sleeping.

You stayed still for a moment, your fists clenched, before returning to your room. This time, you made sure to lock the door. Yet, even behind that barrier, you couldn’t escape the oppressive feeling: his gaze, his smile… something about him made you deeply uncomfortable.

You slipped under the covers, praying that this night would finally end. But you knew that this was only the beginning of a much greater unease.

The next morning, you got up quickly, driven by the hope that by hastening the preparations, you could shorten their stay in your house. You prepared a simple breakfast: rye bread, some dry sausage, and a bowl of porridge. Sitting at the table, you savored the relative silence, a rare moment of tranquility since their arrival.

This moment was interrupted by the squire who entered discreetly. Unlike the others, he seemed less intrusive. He gave you a small, hesitant smile, as if waiting for your permission to sit. You gestured to a chair, and he sat down.

— I’ll wash your clothes after breakfast, you said calmly. You’ll probably be able to leave before lunchtime this way.

The squire looked at you with a mix of gratitude and awkwardness.

— Thank you, he replied sincerely. And I’m sorry that we imposed ourselves like this on you. Understand, your house is the only one in the area. But…

He hesitated, as if weighing his words.

— But the time of departure is not up to me, he added. It depends on the king’s will.

You stopped dead, staring at him in disbelief. The king? That insufferable, arrogant, and intrusive man, was he the king? Until now, you had thought he was just a high-ranking noble, but the king? A shiver ran through you, a mix of astonishment and apprehension.

As if to confirm your fears, the king entered at that moment, followed by his two companions. They sat at the table with an assurance that made it seem like they were at home. The king, with almost calculated precision, sat right next to you. He gave you a warm, almost charming smile, wishing you a good day in a soft, affable voice.

You furrowed your brow, confused by his behavior. Quickly clearing your dishes, you turned to him to regain some semblance of control.

— As I told your squire, I will wash your clothes after breakfast. That way, you’ll probably be able to leave before lunchtime.

The king stared at you for a moment, his gaze taking on an unreadable quality. There was something unsettling in his eyes: an intensity that seemed to probe your soul, as if he were trying to detect your every thought. Then, an almost imperceptible smile flickered on his lips.

— How kind of you, my dear, he said softly. However…

He paused, his tone turning more serious, almost solemn.

— It turns out that I wish to meet your husband. We will therefore wait for his return.

His gaze remained fixed on you, a glimmer of amusement mixed with a certain threat. He knew. He knew that you had lied, and he seemed to take a malicious pleasure in playing with you.

The atmosphere in the room immediately changed. The two nobles exchanged a glance, one of them sporting a smirk, clearly entertained by the situation. The other, more serious, seemed puzzled by the king’s insistence. As for the squire, he lowered his eyes, uncomfortable, nervously fiddling with the edge of his tunic.

You felt trapped. Your heart was racing, but you forced yourself to keep a neutral expression.

— My husband probably won’t return until late this evening, you said in a tone you hoped sounded firm.

The king didn’t respond immediately. He simply stared at you, his smile widening slightly.

— Then we have all the time in the world, he murmured finally, his voice soft, but heavy with innuendo.

This simple exchange left an overwhelming weight in the air. You now knew that his departure no longer depended on just washing clothes. And more than ever, you felt that this man was dangerous.

The day unfolded slowly, each moment stretching out like an eternity. The stares of the four men weighed heavily on you, their invasive presence seeping into every corner of your home. Even as you tried to focus on your daily tasks, every movement felt monitored, every breath scrutinized.

The squire was the most discreet, occasionally casting you a hesitant glance, as if unsure of his place but too polite to leave. The two nobles, however, seemed to revel in the situation. One of them kept glaring at you with a judgmental gaze, while the other, calmer but no less observant, appeared lost in thought, missing nothing of what transpired around him.

As for the king… He kept watching you, like a predator stalking its prey. You felt his eyes on you constantly—heavy, curious, scrutinizing. Every task you undertook seemed to serve as an opportunity for him to evaluate you. He would sometimes approach, ensuring you weren’t too busy, offering remarks that seemed casual but were, in truth, precise observations of your every move.

When you tended to the fire, he leaned in close and murmured softly: — You’re so attentive to everything; it’s admirable. You never miss a spark. The comment sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried not to let it show. You knew he was testing you, probing your resolve.

After cleaning and tidying up, you headed to the garden to tend to a few plants, hoping for a moment of respite. But even there, you weren’t alone. The king positioned himself by a window, watching you through the curtains. One of the nobles also kept his gaze fixed on you, as if every gesture needed to be observed, measured, and noted.

Finally, lunchtime arrived, though the thought of spending more time with them was far from appealing. You forced a smile, serving the food with a courtesy that grew more taxing by the moment. The king, ever charming, addressed you with kind words, but his eyes betrayed his relentless search for something more—a crack in your composure, a moment of vulnerability.

By the afternoon, you realized you couldn’t endure the tension any longer. Taking a deep breath, your heart pounding, you calmly announced: — I’m going into town. It’s been a while, and I think it would do me good.

Silence fell over the room, and all eyes turned to you. The king was the first to react, a faintly amused smile playing on his lips. — Into town? he said softly, with layers of meaning. Why not wait until your husband returns? It would be safer, wouldn’t it?

You didn’t need to think twice to recognize the trap. He was trying to cage you again, to make you feel his control over every aspect of your life. But you weren’t about to give in. — There’s nothing dangerous in town, you replied, striving for confidence. And I’ll return well before nightfall.

The nobles exchanged glances. One seemed on the verge of protesting but held back, as if a decision had been made beyond his control. The older one shrugged, appearing indifferent.

The king said nothing at first, his gaze piercing, sending a strange heat through your chest, followed by a chilling unease. Then, slowly rising from his chair, he moved toward you with measured steps, every motion deliberate, like a ruler fully aware of his authority. — Very well, he said calmly. Go ahead, but… don’t stray too far. I’d hate for anything to happen to you on the way. You know, it’s never entirely safe to be alone, especially in such an isolated place.

He turned away without another word, but his seemingly gentle tone carried an unmistakable threat. He didn’t need to say more for you to understand: he would be watching. No matter where you went, his shadow loomed over you like an invisible chain.

The other three men regarded you with varying expressions—indifference, amusement—but the king’s silent vigilance was ever-present. You had no choice but to leave, though deep down, you knew that any semblance of freedom you might feel was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

When you prepared to step out the door, the king rose again, his cold, determined smile returning. — I’ll accompany you, he said quietly but firmly. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d prefer to keep you under my watch.

He followed you without another word, and you had no choice but to accept it. The town, usually quiet, felt livelier today. People hurried to finish their errands before nightfall, and the clatter of hooves echoed on the cobblestones.

You headed first to the butcher, hoping the quick errand would go unnoticed. The king kept his distance, observing everything—the streets, the people, and most of all, you—with eyes as sharp as blades. His presence made you nervous, forcing you to move with heightened awareness of his scrutiny. — Some meat for tonight, please, you said in a calm voice, though your hands trembled slightly.

The butcher served you without question, though his gaze lingered on the king, then back to you. The tension was palpable, and no one could ignore it.

After paying, you continued on your way, maintaining a composed facade. The king remained silent, but his unrelenting eyes bore into you, as if waiting for the slightest misstep.

You stopped next at the tailor’s, hoping the visit might offer a brief reprieve from the king’s oppressive attention. The tailor, a middle-aged man, greeted you warmly. — Just a small repair for the skirt, if you don’t mind, you said, handing it over. Nothing too complicated.

The king leaned against the wall, watching every movement. You knew he disliked being here, but his desire to control you outweighed his discomfort. The tailor’s scissors seemed louder than usual, each snip amplifying the oppressive silence.

When the tailor handed back your mended skirt, you seized the moment. Taking a deep breath, you turned to the king and said calmly: — I’m going to visit a friend now. She works at a brothel nearby, and I need to deliver something to her.

The king studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. He hesitated, as though weighing his options. Then, with a faint smile, he replied: — Very well, I’ll wait here. But don’t take too long, all right? I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a compromising situation.

Leaving him behind in the bustling street, you headed toward a quieter, shadowed part of town, where the alleys narrowed and the air grew heavier. Here, you hoped to find Jean—the one person who might help you escape the king’s grip, if only for a night.

Jean, a man with a rough demeanor, was well-known in these parts as a pimp but also as someone who didn’t hesitate to use violence to get what he wanted. You found him repulsive, but he was your only option.

Arriving at a discreet door, you knocked twice and waited. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and there stood Jean, a cynical smile on his lips.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he said, looking you up and down. “You must want something, don’t you?”

You took a deep breath and held out five silver coins, which he snatched with interest.

“I have a deal for you, Jean. I want you to pretend to be my husband tonight. The king, that… insufferable man, is here with his nobles, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to escape, even if it’s just for one evening. In exchange for five silver coins, you’ll be my husband and shield me from his intrusive gaze.”

Jean laughed, a harsh and joyless sound.

“Five silver coins? For one evening of a fake marriage? You care more about freedom than money, I see. But you know what? I’ll do it. For tonight, you’ll be Jean’s wife, and the king won’t be able to do a thing about it. But don’t expect it to come cheap.”

He gave you a piercing look, one that felt far too calculated. You knew you had to tread carefully, but for now, this was your only option.

“Fine,” you replied, your gaze hardening. “But after tonight, you stay away from me, Jean. This is a deal, not a commitment.”

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said with a mocking grin.

Jean arrived at the cottage in the late afternoon, and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of apprehension. Every step he took toward your door seemed heavy with consequence. When he entered, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you: a certain relief, of course, but also a growing unease. This dinner was no longer just a meal; it was a trial that could disrupt far more than your evening.

You greeted him with a reserved smile, trying to keep your composure. He settled at the table, his gaze scanning every corner of the cottage as if uncovering its secrets. The atmosphere was tense, and you sensed that nothing about what was to come would be trivial.

The others arrived shortly after—three nobles, followed by the king. They took their seats, but the air remained heavy. The king sat beside you, and you immediately felt his scrutinizing gaze on you, as though he were evaluating your every move. Then Jean turned toward him, his piercing stare as sharp as a blade.

The initial exchanges were polite, but the underlying tension was palpable. Jean, for his part, seemed intent on testing the king, pushing him to his limits, his remarks laden with innuendo.

“You have such a serene air about you, Your Majesty,” Jean began in an almost friendly tone, though his eyes gleamed with something sharper. “There’s a strange calm that emanates from you. A calm… that perhaps hides a certain vulnerability.”

The king shot you a quick glance before responding, his tone icy: “And why would you think that?”

Jean shrugged, as though he didn’t care about the answer. “Well, after spending time around powerful men, you learn to see the cracks in their facades. One might believe your power is unshakable, but I’m certain there are flaws. And when you find them, that’s when the real game begins.”

The king straightened slightly, his gaze hardening, though he maintained his composure. “You seem to underestimate what it means to be a king, Jean. You don’t understand what it entails—the sacrifices, the responsibilities. You can’t simply talk about power as if you know what it is.”

Jean smirked, a nearly provocative expression. “Oh, but I understand far more than you think. You speak of sacrifices, responsibilities, but at its core, everything is ruled by money. You, your nobles, your lands—it’s all an illusion. You think you’re at the top, but you’re just puppets in a much larger game.”

The nobles around the table exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to intervene. The tension escalated, and you could feel the air growing heavier. Jean wasn’t there to flatter; he was there to provoke, to push the king to his breaking point.

“You wear a fine crown, but it’s just an ornament. When you take it off, you’re like everyone else, aren’t you? Just a man among men, no matter how much you like to think otherwise.”

The king, visibly irritated, clenched his fists under the table. “You’re a strange man, Jean,” he murmured in a threatening tone. “You know nothing of what it means to be at the top. All you understand is money. You’re a man of the gutter.”

Jean burst into laughter, though there was an ominous edge to it. He stood abruptly, stepping closer to the king, his eyes blazing with restrained fury. “Maybe I am a man of the gutter, but tonight, you’re going to see what it feels like to lose control.”

Without warning, Jean drew his sword, the motion swift as lightning. The king, with a fluid movement, unsheathed his own and managed to parry the first strike. The violent clash of metal echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine. The other guests remained frozen, shocked by the sudden attack.

Jean, consumed by rage, launched into a series of brutal strikes, but the king was faster. Each of Jean’s blows was met with precise counters. The king appeared calm, but you could feel the intensity of the duel, every movement of his arms calculated and deliberate.

Finally, with a sudden burst of motion, the king disarmed Jean. Delivering a decisive strike, he sent Jean crashing to the ground. The ensuing silence was heavy, almost suffocating. Jean, groaning in pain, lay motionless.

The king, breathless but composed, stood tall and regarded Jean’s body with an icy gaze. Slowly, he turned to the other nobles. “Well. That’s settled.”

The nobles, paralyzed, said nothing. But you remained seated, frozen in place. A mix of relief and dread coursed through you. The king had killed a man during dinner, but the situation was far from resolved. On the contrary, you knew everything was about to change.

The guests eventually left, the king casting a final glance at Jean’s lifeless body before turning to you with a chilling smile. Then, he walked out the door.

You stayed behind, your eyes fixed on Jean’s motionless form, a storm of emotions swirling within you. The smell of blood and death filled the room, heavy and unbearable. The walls seemed to close in around you, and before you could fully grasp the gravity of the situation, everything went black. Darkness engulfed you as you fainted.

When you opened your eyes again, daylight filtered through the window. You sat up abruptly, dizziness overwhelming you. The nauseating smell of Jean's corpse immediately reached your nose, making you gag. The weight of what had just happened crushed you, and you felt overwhelmed by panic. What now? How could you erase what had just occurred? Jean's body was there, in the room, and you couldn't simply leave it there.

Instinctively, you got up and hurried outside, running to the back of the small house where no one would disturb you. You began digging a hole in the garden, more or less deep, but every movement felt heavy, almost mechanical. Your mind was foggy, your hands trembling. Jean's body, too heavy to handle alone, seemed almost unreal. Dried blood stained your hands and clothes as you dragged the body out of the house, each movement sending a shiver of disgust through you. The body fell into the hole you had dug without much thought. The earth slowly covered him, but your mind kept spiraling.

Was what you just did really smart? People would surely notice Jean’s disappearance. And if someone came, if someone found his body in your garden... It would be you they accused. You they judged. A cold shiver ran through you. What now? You had to flee. Find a solution before it was too late.

Panicked, you ran inside the house, hastily gathering anything you thought might be necessary. Some silver coins, a few clothes, and other small items you could carry. Each action felt more rushed than the last. But as you were gathering everything, you heard a noise. A sharp knock at the door.

You froze. It wasn’t the wind. It was another knock, more insistent this time. You approached the door cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. Then a commanding voice rose from the other side, cutting through your thoughts.

— Open the door immediately! You are accused of high treason against the crown. We are here to escort you to your trial.

Your blood ran cold. The voice was firm, authoritative, leaving no room for negotiation. The royal guards were there, and everything was about to fall apart. You stood still, your mind racing. You had no plan, nothing. You had to face what was coming, but how? What to say? What to do?

The sound of footsteps approached, and the door began to tremble under repeated blows. Everything was collapsing around you.

The door burst open suddenly, and everything seemed to blur around you. The daylight was too bright, almost unbearable, and your eyes instinctively squinted. Before you could react, you were seized by the arm with such force that you had no time to defend yourself. The sensation was terrifying, as if an invisible rope tied you to a horse, dragging you behind it mercilessly. The pain, the anguish, everything mixed within you in a chaotic whirlwind.

Your mind wavered between reality and memory, a flood of blurry, confused recollections. The cell, the dampness of the cold walls, the heavy silence of the prison… Then the judge, the man who condemned you, and his cutting voice announcing your sentence: "Death by hanging." The sound of his words still echoed in your ears, and you felt lost, crushed by inevitability.

Now, you were there again, in that cell. A heavy silence weighed on you. The last day, the day of the condemned. You had prepared yourself for this moment, for this inevitable end. But nothing could prepare you for what happened next.

The door to your cell opened once again. You expected to see a guard, another court official, but that wasn’t the case. A malicious smile stretched across your face as you recognized the one who had entered. The king himself. He wasn’t there to carry out a sentence, no. He stepped toward you with that manic smile, the smile he always wore when he felt in control, when he knew everything was under his power. That smile, at that moment, froze your blood.

— So, here you are at last. It’s amusing to see how the wheel of fate turns, isn’t it? he murmured, his voice smooth, almost disdainful.

He stood there before you, and the air he exuded was suffocating. He seemed to take cruel pleasure in observing your distress. He advanced slowly, his gaze fixed on you, as if savoring every moment of this encounter, every second he knew you couldn’t escape.

You were there, facing him, in that cell. There was no escape. No false hope. Just him, the king, delighting in your predicament, and that predatory smile he wouldn’t stop wearing.

The king approached closer, reducing the distance between you to a mere breath. His eyes glimmered with a strange light, a mix of cruelty and desire. Then, with a chilling smile, he murmured:

— In my great mercy, I offer you a way out, a chance to live. But on one condition: you must agree to stay with me for eternity.

Your breath caught. The words echoed in the cell like a distorted, unreal sound. Your heart raced, and yet a strange sense of irony crossed your mind. You dared to speak, your voice trembling despite yourself:

— Is… is this a marriage proposal?

The king burst into clear laughter, almost joyful, but every note of that laughter was filled with condescension. He shook his head slightly, as if amused by your supposed naivety.

— No, of course not! My dear, our social classes are far too distant for such absurdity, he said, letting the words drip with disdain.

He took another step, leaning slightly toward you, his tone lower, more intense.

— What I’m offering you is far more than a simple marriage. I’m offering you life, an existence by my side, as the royal mistress. A title few could claim, a privileged place in my world.

He paused, his eyes scrutinizing every detail of your face, watching for your reaction.

— And together, we will live happily until the end of time. Until the stars themselves extinguish, and the universe is nothing but a memory.

His smile widened, triumphant, as if he already knew what your answer would be. But deep inside, a storm raged. The final decision is yours.

A/n ²: Hope you enjoyed :3. If this is the case, please let me know. Besides, I have lots of ideas for explanations and follow-ups (like: -Why did Jean act like this?, (assuming Darling chooses to live)What will life be like for Darling now that she is a royal mistress?, What if the king had a wife?)

#yandere men #yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere king #yandere king x reader #yandere king x female reader #yandere king x poor reader #rich yandere #angst #syerra-637 #yandere medieval #yandere fairytale #yandere fairytale x reader #yandere medieval x reader

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2-dsimp · 10 months ago

Note

Yandere rich single dad falling for his daughter's nanny/babysitter!

Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, father-daughter plotting on you, you’ve got an pushy coworker,

Synopsis: 【You were just a normal office worker with a minimum wage. So in an effort to pay rent, you scrounged job offers for babysitting since you were good at handling children. And in the process you applied and got accepted to become a nanny for a rich former movie star’s daughter. The daughter apparently hated every nanny she got but once she met you she was absolutely smitten…And so was her Daddy.】

Pt2→ 《x》

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Yandere rich Dilf! Who continues to pace back and forth in his house, his anticipation growing as the seconds count down. He knows that you must be getting off work soon, and that you'll be coming back to him ahem to take care of his little brat and him before too long.

Yandere rich Dilf! That tries to distract himself, focusing on making sure everything is prepared for your arrival. He excused all the servants so he can personally oversee that everything in his mansion was set up to perfection. He was sweating like a madman.

Yandere rich Dilf! Who couldn’t shake the feeling of jittery excitement that's building within him. Eventhough he was hailed as a famous handsome actor he couldn’t get his shit together at the thought of finally making moves on his darling. This poor man was practically leaning against the counter for life support. From how he got swept up by the plan his nosey daughter concocted. Which was for him to seduce you into making you completely theirs.

Yandere rich Dilf! Whose daughter was already in full support of making her sweet nanny into her new mommy. And was smart enough to call her playmates ahead of time. So her Dad can give her the sibling she’s always been asking for. Since she was tired of being the only child in the huge mansion.

As the clock ticks down the minutes foretelling of your arrival. Quio starts to feel a sense of nervousness mixed with impatience, knowing that it was almost game time.

“Cmon Dad you can’t be looking like a wimp, it’s time for you to man up! By the time I get back I expect to have a mommy and a little brother on the way. Understood?”

His daughter, Peina chastised as she whacked him on the back and continued to threaten him give him encouragement before she left to see her friends.

"Okay, okay, Understood you prima donna."

Quio sassed with an heavy eye roll from how his bossy his daughter was. I mean sure he knows that she gets that from him. But at the same time it’s surreal to be at the receiving end of having orders being barked at you. Soon enough there’s a signature knock at the door, which makes Peina perk up. As she giddily skips towards the door to greet her beloved nanny.

“Gah wait! I’m not mentally prepared yet! Are ya really tryna give yer old man a heart attack?! How heartless can you be?”

He practically whispered yelled in an attempt to halt his daughter hand from twisting open the knob. As his heart raced at the speed of sound from the thought of seeing his apparent future missus crush. His daughter merely gave him a judgmental glare and promptly flipped him off. Mouthing to him ‘Get it together’ leaving him utterly offended. He was an A-listed actor damn it. Before flinging open the door to greet her Nanny with a big hug to their waist.

“Nana who’s this with you?”

At his daughter’s pointed inquiry, Quio nearly trips over his feet as he hauls ass to the door. His tall and bulky build moving as gracefully as a one legged flamingo. When he peeks his head out only to bite back a bitchy grimace at the sight of you with your so called nice colleague. Oh how he hated that pretentious asshole’s guts despite not knowing a damn thing about the man.

"Uh heya, Sweetheart it’s so good to see ya. I never get tired of seeing your gorgeous face!“

The Dilf crooned with a heavy twang to his voice as he blatantly ignored the little pest hanging to your side. His daughter felt the same way as she outwardly glared at your coworker while she purposefully tugged you closer to her Dad’s direction.

“Aha you flatter me too much Mr. Evinis. Also this is Miki he just so happened to see me and wanted to say hello”

You hummed lightly always finding the rugged single father to be charming. Completely, missing his subtle glance over at Miki, his serpentine eyes studying his potential love rival with thinly concealed disgust . He can't help but feel extremely jealous of the way that Miki is able to freely hang around you because yall worked at the same office. God, would it be too overkill to just buy the company you worked at so he could freely stalk watch you from 9-5.

"Hey, it’s nice to meet you man. But wow you’ve got an amazing house”

Your colleague says with a grin, holding out a hand for Quio to shake. Both him and his daughter stared down with an ick at the outstretched sweaty hand of the slime ball. And in order to keep up appearances in front of his soon to be wife. The Dilf inwardly sighed and begrudgingly took Miki's hand into an bruising iron grip. his eyes still fixed on you as he tries to focus on the conversation.

"Uh huh, Nice to meet you pal. Well, come on in, make yourself at home Sweet— "

“Don’t mind if I do! Oh my god is that the newest gaming console?”

Quio was soon interrupted by your colleague who had the audacity to grab you by the shoulders and usher you inside his mansion. Did he say that fucking parasite was invited? No, so why the hell did that cockblocking bitch think it was okay to scamper his mousy ass inside his mansion. Only meant for his lovely wife, his daughter, and him, alone. He was definitely going to call pest control afterwards to make sure the problem wouldn’t occur again.

Veins popped out around his neck as the Dilf nearly broke the door handle in utter rage. While numerous murderous thoughts about curb stomping the shit outta Miki crossed his mind like a freight train. And his daughter was the splitting image of him. She was appalled by how that leech just snatched her mommy nanny away from her grasp. And she balled her tiny fists with a small snarl present as she snapped her head up to give her Father a knowing look.

“Dad!…”

“Yeah I know squirt, I’ll make sure to have a real good chat with the fucker— I mean guy. You’ll get your sibling and mommy soon enough.”

Quio said in a hushed tone with an undertone of venomous certainty. Which made Peina somewhat pleased as she curtly nodded off at her Dad.

“Now run along and stay outta grown folks business”

He huffed lightly nudging his daughter further outside their residence. To which she gave an equally heavy eye roll mirroring his that he gave her a couple minutes ago. Before she started trotting off towards her friend’s chauffeur car that just pulled up for their play date.

Yeah he’d make damn sure that you’d be his pretty darling mama for him and his baby girl. Afterall he’s a man of his word and he promised to deliver. Nothing would stand in his way of achieving whatever he wanted. And he sure as hell isn’t letting Miki from the stupid parts and services department. Get away with the disrespect of having the gall to touch you without some form of bloody repercussions.

。

Lmk If you guys like him. If so, I’ll write some more or make a part two (>^ω^<)

#yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yanderecore #yandere concept #yandere content #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #dilf x reader #Quio the dilf #yandere dad

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yanderenightmare · 10 days ago

Text

2024 collection part one

January

Condescending boyfriend:

♡ HOPELESS

Yandere kidnapper is a sexual sadist:

♡ RIBBED CONDOMS

Yandere kidnapper throatfucks you after anal:

♡ ATM

Awful nasty incel:

♡ drabble

Boss uses his assistant whenever he wants and however he wants:

♡ BOSS

Yandere captor using you as his pretty rope-bunny:

♡ ROPE-BUNNY

Simpy boyfriend is unabashedly obsessed with your ass:

♡ ASS

JJK—Hunter Gojo traps Nymph reader in the woods:

♡ FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Ex-boyfriend kidnaps you:

♡ LOVE ME

Yandere captor staking claim to all your holes:

♡ STUFFED

JJK—Gojo x maid darling:

♡ drabble

Yandere captor has too much libido:

♡ REMINDER

Another day waking up next to your yandere captor:

♡ MORNING WOOD

JJK—Senpai Gojo teasing Kohai reader:

♡ TRUTH OR DARE

You break up with your fuckfriend, and he doesn't take it well:

♡ FUBU

Creep captor dresses you up like a doll and takes pictures of you:

♡ DOLL

JJK—Yandere Gojo with a reader who is immune to his techniques:

♡ FINITE

Yandere captor loves watching you cum:

♡ THAT SPECIAL PLACE

BNHA—Childhood friend Deku never stops crushing on you:

♡ WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?

You're a popular airhead, and he's your loser tutor:

♡ BLIND TRUST

JJK—Immature bully Gojo picks on reader:

♡ MILK

You become the spoiled prince's personal maid:

♡ FARM ANIMAL

Poly yandere captors make you cum for them:

♡ A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

Yandere plays the good guy:

♡ GOOD GUY

Stepdaddy puts you in your place:

♡ BRAT

Businessman yandere comes home to his little trophy wife:

♡ STRESS BALL

JJK—Childhood friend Gojo doesn't want to share you with anyone:

♡ TOGETHER FOREVER

JJK—Boyfriend Suguru shares you with his best friend Satoru:

♡ FAVORITE PEOPLE

Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:

♡ BUNNYHOLES

Beast boyfriend x human reader:

♡ INSTINCTS

February

You try running away from your two poly yandere captors:

♡ ROPE OR BAT?

You're an older guy's pleasure pet:

♡ BEDTIME FEEDING

Omega reader tries running away from Alpha mate:

♡ SILLY LITTLE MATE

Jock bully asks you to tutor him:

♡ NERD

BNHA—Childhood friend Bakugou and you:

♡ NO ONE ELSE

JJK—Asylum patient Mahito x psychologist reader:

♡ EAT

Massive warrior claims you as his war prize:

♡ WAR PRIZE

Step-daddy puts you in your place:

♡ TRAINING

JJK—Bully Suguru is not like other bullies:

♡ BULLY

Snugglebug boyfriends who're just so clingy and hopeless:

♡ VIRGINAL

HAZBIN HOTEL—Adam is an entitled prick:

♡ GENESIS

JJK—Noaya falls for his favorite brothel whore:

♡ WHORE

Spending Valentine's Day with your incel kidnapper:

♡ HAPPY VALENTINES

Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:

♡ GROOMING

Delinquent childhood friend x reader:

♡ SUCKER

Businessman x trophy wife:

♡ TASTE OF MONEY

Rich boyfriend is condescending:

♡ SNOB

Pet collector buys bunny reader:

♡ BOUGHT & SOLD ♡ THE OTHER PETS

Sweet boyfriend won't stop talking about anal:

♡ SECOND VIRGINITY

March

Aromantic psychopathic yandere kidnaps you:

♡ NUISANCE

JJK—Okkotsu Yuta x mean girl curse:

♡ MEAN GIRL

Reader owes the mob:

♡ PROPERTY

DEATH NOTE—L is fascinated by you:

♡ PAPER SWANS

Your college roommate rubs you the wrong way:

♡ PERFECT STRANGERS

When the playboy finally falls in love:

♡ PLAYBOY

BNHA—You and Bakugou survive under a collapsed building together:

♡ SHARED TRAUMA

You let your bully fuck you in exchange for him leaving you alone:

♡ WORSE OFF

Boyfriend is embarrassed:

♡ POST NUT CLARITY

Ex-boyfriend wants you back so badly:

♡ UNFAIR

April

Ghost month! This month doesn't exist!

May

Rich husband owns everything you have:

♡ BARBIE

Ex-military yandere kidnaps you:

♡ EX-MILITARY YANDERE

Teacher teaches you a hard lesson:

♡ HARD LESSON

Your boyfriend is down bad, and it's threatening:

♡ BRUISER BOYFRIEND

Your toxic boyfriend is a little old-fashioned-minded:

♡ BENEVOLENT SEXIST

June

JJK—Sukuna adds virgin!nun!reader to his harem:

♡ UNHOLY

Breaking up with your bad boyfriend:

♡ BAD BREAKUP

BNHA boys as mythic creatures x darling:

♡ MYTHIC

JJK—God!Gojo x human sacrifice:

♡ DIRT POOR

Your childhood bully tracks you down:

♡ APOLOGETIC BULLY only avaliable on AO3 ♡ PART TWO

You make the big angry alpha blush:

♡ BIG ANGRY ALPHA

You were certain you were an Alpha, but as it turns out...

♡ TWIST OF FATE

Can two Betas do the work of one Alpha?

♡ TWO BETAS, ONE OMEGA

JJK—You stab Gojo. He kinda likes it:

♡ KNIFE

The old-fashioned boss with intern reader:

♡ NEW INTERN

JJK men as mythic creatures x darling:

♡ MYSTIC ♡ MYTHIC

You're not cheap, but you're worth it:

♡ FAVORITE WHORE

You open your heart to your fuck-friend:

♡ DAMAGED

Your Alpha Mate is so in love with you it's a little exhausting:

♡ LOVEY-DOVEY ALPHA

JJK—Gojo Senpai won't leave you alone:

♡ TAKE A HINT

JJK—Soft boyfriend Gojo headcanons:

♡ Boyfriend Gojo

♡ PART TWO

#just a lil something imma start doing #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere x darling #male yandere #yanderecore #soft yandere #yandere imagines #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boyfriend #yandere masterlist #yandere jjk #yandere my hero academia #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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hellbornsworld · 5 months ago

Text

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(15)✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

🦋 sweet apple biscuits | jungkook x reader | One-Shot | @rosaetae

🦋 Baby Mama Drama | BabyDaddy!Jeon Jungkook x BabyMama!Female!Reader | One-Shot | @berryhobii

🦋 perfect | Visually impaired fem!reader x soft boyfriend!kook | One-Shot | @rkivepetals

🦋 DNA | Jungkook x Reader | Series | @btssavedmylifeblr

🦋 Unsinkable | poor/artist!JK x rich!f reader | Series | @mariabtsos

🦋 make you mine | incubus!jungkook x fem!reader | One-Shot | @peachypinkygloss

🦋 THE PRINCE WITH THE UGLY HEART | prince!jungkook X florist!reader | Series | @daydreamindollie

🦋 seven plus one | simp bf!Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @jvngkoos

🦋 little, naive thing | yandere! jeon jungkook x f. reader | One-Shot | @luv-gukkie

🦋 Grapejuice | jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung x reader) | One-Shot | @starshapedkookie

🦋 golden boy | jeon jungkook/reader | One-Shot | @smoochkooks

🦋 Divulgence | jungkook x reader | One-Shot | @jungk0oksthighs

🦋 IRRESIST | vampire jungkook X human reader | One-Shot | @jksarchives

🦋 Horny For My Bestie | BSF!JK X Reader | One-Shot | @jkslipppiercing

🦋The God who answers after dark | Jungkook x femreader | Series | @7brownsuga7

🦋I Miss You | MCU!Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot | @readyplayerhobi

🦋 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 | jungkook x reader | Series | @arxims

🦋Middle Of The Night | demon!Jk X reader | Two-Shot | @jeon-s-sins

🦋bleeding for you | EMT!jungkook x female reader | One-Shot | @mercurygguk

🦋the first date | jeon jungkook x reader | One-Shot | @mercurygguk

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mister-001 · 3 months ago

Text

POISON

content: Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Reader

sinopse — you were neglected from a young age, you could no longer take all this neglect and the looks they gave you, as if you were an insect next to them, your option was to run away, and so you did, but on the way, you meet a certain clown, one who charts your path, you might think that's how it ends, but you're very wrong, you can't defy your family, and look who came to haunt you, I mean, look who came to take you home.

Warning: mentions of violence, murder, mentions of torture, violence, mentions of drugs, Reader is a girl, manipulation, violence against minors, torture, Cigarette use, negligence, joker being the joker, Yandere behavior, defined gender, blood.

chapters: 02

A/N: Firstly, you can call me Shin or Lay, feel free, sorry for the defined gender, I feel more comfortable writing for the female gender, but don't worry, I will write for other genders too, I'm just trying to feel comfortable first, I ask you to be patient with me, I can't be very active, I have a life to prioritize, health first, English is not my first language, Portuguese is, I'm using the translator, so if there is an error you already know Who to blame, I'm writing because I like writing, so don't rush me, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, drink water and take care of yourselves, Take care little lamb...

Enjoy it while you can...

You can't run away forever little bird...

eyes were glued to the tomb in front, the tombstone well cared for and clean, a sigh came out of the little girl's mouth, more tears filled her eyes, even though she had this stoic expression, it didn't stop her from crying, until the stronger ones cry...

A hand was placed on the little girl's shoulder and she looked at the person, the middle aged man looked at her with pity, she had lost her mother so early, poor girl, at such a young age, already lost someone, the man smiled softly and nodded towards the car

The girl always had the curiosity of meeting her father, of course, her mother always said that he was a rich playboy who wouldn't have time for her, but even so, as harsh as those words sounded, the little girl knew that this was a lesson, a fact, and it seems that her mother was right, as always...

Bruce considers himself to be at least a somewhat decent person

I mean, he may not be what people call perfect, but he tries to be decent, behind that expression, there is someone who was much happier before...

Well, when a little girl arrived at Wayne Manor, he tried to do what he could to calm down first, yes, it's not the first time he's had a child, but this time is different, this little girl, is his, she contains the same blood, she is not adopted, she is really his daughter

He tried at first, but then why didn't he try later?

Because he let her slip out of his hands

He should have been there for her

He wanted to have been there for her, but the city needed him

But she also needs it, you know?...

Once again being ignored in this mansion, the dark halls that haunt you, stopping when you saw your older brother, Dick, he looked at you and just walked past you as if you didn't exist, you felt another piece of your heart break, with a sigh you walked again

Once again heading to the dark halls of the mansion

You were playing with dolls in your room, and looked at the door when you heard footsteps, your brother, Jason, walked by irritably, once again, it was always like this

You just went back to playing alone, with yourself and your silence...

It's like they say, silence is a person's best friend...

Footsteps are heard as a little girl walks through the halls once again, heading to the kitchen while looking for Alfred, she clutched the Batman plush and stopped in a room, she was going to knock on the door, but someone had already opened the door.

The little girl looked at her brother, Tim, and tried to speak, but he simply closed the bedroom door, leaving her standing in front of the door while looking at the wooden door in front of her.

With a sigh she turned and went back to looking for Alfred.

The little girl was helping Alfred and lost the Batman plush, while looking, the girl saw two girls talking and laughing, they were her sisters, Barbara and Cassandra, she likes to call them Barb and Cass, but when she went to talk to them girls, they just walked past her, Cass was kind enough to pet her head, but still, they completely ignored her existence

Again...

You were next to Damien as you clung to his jacket in the morning, a boy decided that you were the best option to bully, but Damien didn't like it very much and now the boy was on the floor bleeding, his nose was definitely broken. , he was crying in pain while Damien was looking on with disgust and disdain

You..., well you were scared, you hate seeing people bleeding, it makes you sick, you just wanted your stuffed animal back...

Startled when Damien finally looked at you with that serious expression, you quickly released the sleeve of his jacket and looked into his eyes

_ "you are weak, you will never be a Wayne, that must be why your mother died, because you weren't strong enough to save her, you can't even protect yourself alone, who guarantees that you can protect someone, I'm the most new, and I still know more than you, for once, be useful and grow "

You froze, as if time was standing still, with your eyes wide in surprise, you looked at the ground and nodded slowly as you closed your eyes to keep the tears away, it hurt, it hurt a lot, it hurt more than the scars you have from that day, the day your mother died, the day you were sent to a dark place...

Damien just walked past you and stopped in the hallway, leaving you alone, with just your tears...

You were in your room crying, tears rolled down your cheeks, holding onto the only thing you had, your Batman plush, you wanted Batman to save you just like he saves Ghotam...

You were too distracted to notice that someone entered your room, footsteps came closer to you and you felt arms around you, with a start you looked at the person, only to see Alfred

Without saying anything you allowed yourself to cry more as you clung to him.

Alfred caressed your back gently as he sighed softly, he just wishes someone in this mansion could see how brilliant you are, how amazing you are, if only there was something he could do...

LOOKING at the Tombstone, everything was silent, the silence was deafening

Yes, you ran away, and I'm not saying it in a metaphor, I'm saying you actually ran away from the mansion, well, I wouldn't consider running away, because I'm pretty sure walking out the front door and no one stops you isn't considered running away, but which is a consideration for those who have never had one...

Now here you were, in front of your late mother's tombstone, the only one who taught you and gave you affection when you needed her most, no one can replace your mother, no one at all, you would get blood on your own hands if necessary, for She, you destroy the world...

Walking through the dark streets of Gotham was you, as you held your Batman plush close, you couldn't stop feeling that feeling of someone following you, well you were right but the worst part is being right about wrong feelings...

That's why you looked back, and didn't see anyone, but when you looked ahead, your heart felt like it was going to leave you, trying to calm your breathing you dared to look at his face, the smile that doesn't fool anyone, the clothes, the hair...

You weren't mistaken

You wish you were mistaken

But this was really him...

With an amused smile in front of him was none other than someone with his own macabre thoughts...

_ "Well, well, if we don't have a little clown, alone... I don't need to introduce myself, you must know me, but I have education and I'm going to introduce myself anyway, I'm the... Joker...

Batman will like the little gift, well, if he can have his little friends, I can also have a little clown with me, don't you agree?, of course you agree, come on, little clown, let's introduce you to Gotham City..."

You looked at the man in front of you with fear, your brain was screaming at you to run, but your legs seemed glued to the ground, frozen, paralyzed...

panic settled in your body when you felt arms lifting you, you tried to fight, you tried to make him let go of you, but you shivered when you felt something come into contact with your skin, of course you knew how to put one and one together, you grew with your Mom, so you obviously know that he injected something into you, injected something into your neck...

You felt tired and stopped fighting, your eyelids slowly closed as you tried to keep them open, but it wasn't enough and you fell into a deep sleep, a dreamless sleep...

A broken heart will never be broken again if the pieces are already too small, but who said you can't step on the pieces...

BRUCE felt something was wrong, a bad feeling, he double checked his kids and found every one of them, but the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong, so he went to look at the cameras in the batcave, wrong move ...

Looking at the cameras, he finally figured out what was wrong, his daughter, his little daughter came out, she ran away, he felt panic rising inside him, and he heard a noise behind him, and when he looked he saw Jason looking at the recording of the video. security camera with a death glare, before Bruce nodded as Jason quickly turned and went to warn the others...

That's why now they were all in the Batcave, looking at the security cameras, Tim blamed himself for not being able to stop this, he made so many plans, because he can't make a plan in case this happened, now she was lost, in the darkness of Gotham City, a dark place...

But they will find you, no matter what it takes

They will burn down Gotham if necessary

It looks like it won't rain water from the sky, but rather blood...

A/N: hello little lamb, I hope you liked it, it wasn't my idea, I was inspired by an account that had this great idea, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, and sorry again for the defined gender, remember to take care of yourself, little one little lamb, bye bye, take care...

Signed: 𝙇𝙖𝙮...

Autor : @trashpanda0000 @dhanyasri @marsmabe @caged-birdies-blog @vanessa-boo

#yandere platonic #yandere batfam #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere x reader #Platonic Jogar x Child Reader #dc universe #yandere batman #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #platonic relationships #child reader #neglect #Neglected Child Reader #platonic love

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postmoe · 5 months ago

Text

In the Next Moment:

Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader

I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!

omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum

What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.

In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.

“This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”

“How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.

It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.

Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.

He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”

Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, “B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”

You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”

Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.

Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.

Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.

“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.

Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”

It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”

His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”

He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”

Flirting?! Definitely a joke.

Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”

“Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”

The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”

“Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“

Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”

Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”

“Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”

… You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”

The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”

Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”

You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”

“Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.

Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”

He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.

Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”

Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”

His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”

This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”

Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”

Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”

“I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.

That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.

Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”

What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”

To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”

You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.

This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”

Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.

…

“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.

He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”

“Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.

With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”

He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ‘date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?

“Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?

Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”

Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.

“Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.

Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”

It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”

The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.

Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.

The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”

You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?

“You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”

Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“

“It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”

Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”

You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”

Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”

Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”

“When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.

“Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.

Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”

You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”

“Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.

Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”

To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”

His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”

Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”

Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”

He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”

You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.

He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”

You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.

How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.

You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.

The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.

‘Why not just kill yourself?’

You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.

However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.

Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.

You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”

Silence.

You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.

Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.

Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.

One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.

This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.

There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.

All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.

You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.

It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.

You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.

As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.

Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.

Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”

His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.

Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”

Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”

Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”

“I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”

A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”

What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”

The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”

You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”

Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”

He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”

You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”

“Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”

By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.

He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“

“-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”

With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.

You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.

But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.

The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.

It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”

It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”

A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”

He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.

It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.

The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”

You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”

Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”

There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”

Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”

A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.

You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”

Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”

He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”

It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”

“Dead? Yes.”

You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.

Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”

The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”

“Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”

Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”

“Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“

Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.

He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”

Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.

#yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #abo #yandere satoru x reader #alpha x omega #yandere gojo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere alpha x omega #alpha satoru gojo #jjk x reader

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yanderambling · 2 years ago

Text

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

��Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

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#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #male yandere #bully reader #gn reader #dom reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere requests

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leth-writes · 5 months ago

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Yandere batfam x reader part 4!

The cafe, Little Spoon, was extraordinarily quiet for this time of day; last time you had been the line had been out the door to get a drink, let alone sit at the tables and enjoy a meal. Yet, you supposed the complete lack of jobs and the constant villain attacks had created the perfect storm to kill most small businesses. In that light, you were happy such a small cafe was able to stay open, especially with the encroaching giants in the area. Sitting at the table, picking at your bagel with your head down, you felt shame. Having dumped your entire life story out for TIm and Jason to pick at, you felt weirdly hollow.

It felt like someone had scooped out your insides with a dull spoon, and you stared despondent down at your mangled bagel. Jason was texting again, and Tim was staring into the distance, lost in thought. You got the feeling you were the subject of his reverie. It felt weird, seeing them both so lost in their own worlds, especially after the intense way they had stared as you explained your reasoning behind choosing their family.

You didn’t know what to do now, and shame radiated through your core at facing the victims of your crime face to face. No matter how much you had apologized, and how much they had promised they didn’t mind, it still felt hollow, like you wouldn’t ever be able to make up for what you’d done.

“Well, I sicked Barbara on your landlord; if he’s got any dirt, she’ll dig it up.” Jason sighed as he plopped his phone down on the table, leaning back in his chair. “It’s probably a mafia connection. We’ll have to alert the … authorities.” Tim pondered, still half lost in thought and staring out the window. The idea of your landlord, the very one who had indirectly put you in this situation, and who you still hadn’t seen, having some sort of criminal connection had never crossed your mind; you couldn’t believe it was even possible. Hell, it was the type of thing to happen in film, not in real life! Yet, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense; it would explain the constant patrolling from the bats the last little while, you supposed. You stared at Tim’s face in profile, noticing the sharp turn of his thin, high nose and his full, pink lips. You couldn’t believe you were soulbound, destined to have some sort of relationship that only time would reveal. You weren’t sure what your next steps were, but you felt guilty enough to do whatever Tim and Jason would suggest.

Jason abruptly stood up, making meaningful eye contact with Tim. “Hey, I’ll get you a coffee. Want anything else to eat besides that poor bagel?” He questioned you, a half-smile gracing his chiseled face. You shook your head mutely, unwilling to ask for even more. Besides, you weren’t feeling hungry, the anxiety killing any appetite you may have. Tim had turned to look back out the window, so you occupied yourself with glancing around the small room. The only other customer was a young Asian woman, maybe mid-twenties, with choppy black hair ending at the nape of her neck and flaming her face in floaty whisps. She was looking down at her phone, small mouth upturned into a smile, with her chocolatey dark eyes locked onto her screen. She was giggling slightly, evidently at the response from whoever she was texting.

As you attempted to get a closer look at her screen, both out of boredom and curiosity, Jason crossed your line of sight and sat a large porcelain cup and saucer in front of you. “Here,” he started, “It’s hazelnut. Drink up, then we can leave for the manor so you can meet the others”. You took a small sip as he sat down, looking behind you toward the door.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really feel comfortable going to the manor. I can’t impose on your family, not after everything I did…” You responded, taking another sip of the rich, thick drink. Jason huffed playfully, rolling his eyes and smiling. “I told you it’s fine. You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last, but you’re definitely the cutest,” He smirked as you hiked your shoulders toward your ears in embarrassment. “Listen, the least you can do is meet the others. I’m sure they’d love to get to know you for who you really are, they’ve been curious for ages,” Tim turned toward you, staring earnestly into your eyes and gently gripping your free hand.

“I… I don’t know…” You said hesitantly, pausing to take a large sip of the drink and glance out the window. What did you have waiting for you? Your apartment was empty and the neighbors weren’t exactly great company as of late, and the constant rejection while looking for work was definitely taking its toll. You yawned, overcome with a wave of sudden exhaustion. Your adrenaline must have crashed after it spiked earlier, you supposed. Through the fog of the exhaustion, you found yourself nodding along to their gentle affirmations as they led you out to the car that was now parked in front of the cafe. If you were more conscious, you would’ve questioned it, but the exhaustion wiped you out and you ended up passed out, laid over Tim’s lap as he ran his hand down your back and whispered reassurances.

Getting in the car was the final mistake that sealed your fate.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #lethwrites

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year ago

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WHAT’S UP DANGER?

— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.

status: unedited

[masterlist] [next]

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

“Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.

It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.

“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.

“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“

“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”

You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.

“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”

It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.

Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.

“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.

“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.

But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”

And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”

“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.

You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”

Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.

Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.

“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.

Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.

Can your day get any worse?

“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”

Your father’s sermon began.

This . . . was going to be a long ride.

“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.

“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”

Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”

“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”

“But it works oh, so, well.”

Your father sighed, “It does.”

“But with great ability comes great accountability!

“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.

People you knew.

And now they were taking pictures.

“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”

“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.

“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”

“Papa!”

Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”

Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”

“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”

“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”

“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.

Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.

The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”

“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.

You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.

“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”

“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.

“I love you.”

“Right in front of my future peers?”

“I loovveee youuu.”

“On the first day of class?!”

“Mwah mwah—“

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.

Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.

The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.

Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.

“P-pretty girl—“

“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”

“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”

She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”

“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.

The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.

Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.

Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.

“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”

“Gwen!”

You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.

This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.

Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.

You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.

Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.

You were practically falling apart at the seams.

You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.

“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.

You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”

“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”

“. . . Around 25%?”

“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.

“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.

“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”

“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.

You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.

“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”

“You two are dismissed!”

Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”

“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”

You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.

You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.

You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.

“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”

No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.

You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.

You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.

He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”

“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”

Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”

“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”

“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”

A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.

“See ya.”

You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.

“Mig.”

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stuck-writing-sickos · 6 months ago

Text

In Poor Taste [P2]

[Series Link]

(Yandere x Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, xenophobia, hint to racism, explicit language, asshole male lead]

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He knew your type. Quiet, agreeable, and a little bit of a pushover.

He didn't say it, but he had noticed your lack of reaction when Tahara revoked your right to the summer break. Truth was, he never paid attention to women like you when he was in college. The quiet ones who took things seriously as if they had something to lose, those were hard to get. He never bothered with those who were hard to get when there were plenty of other options. He liked the sunkissed blondes who knew to dress up in white sundresses and spaghetti straps, those who knew to party on Saturday and yoga class on Sunday. They never put up a hard fight, just the right amount, and when he got bored so did they. In and out of his bedroom they whirled, whimsical and effortless. He never bothered to find out if they were smart or complicated, and if they tried to show him, he'd move on to the next. A part of him felt bad, but the encouraging jokes and nudges of his frat brothers overrode that twinge in his chest when he saw sad eyes following him down the campus walkway. It didn't matter, not if he got the liquor and summer yatch trips.

He also liked other types. Soft-spoken brunettes who listened to sad songs and doodled hearts onto his notes. Fierce raven-haired girls who knew to throw back shots and moved their bodies to the music. The rich exchange girls who, despite their attitudes, knew their ways around his body and submitted to his rhythm. He liked them all because he could consume them, so he said he support women. Those he didn't like, well, they were on their own.

So he didn't mind that you were older and reserved. True, he never bothered with women like you because he thought he could do without them, but now that he was in Tokyo all alone, he could see your values. So, he thought to look.

You were the serious type. Soft-spoken, patient, and reserved. You looked after yourself rather dilligently - your clothes fit well, and you smelled of subtle floral perfume. Your movement when you walked around the school were gentle but decisive - you knew what to do, and you did it quick, as if you always had something better to do. A part of him didn't like that. For why, he didn't interrogate. "Why" was never a questioned he bothered with, since he could do well for the first 22 years of his life without it. When someone always get what they want, they hardly ever want to know "why".

He knew he was brash and bold to ask you out for dinner, but he assumed you knew the implication. He was interested enough. You had a fine body, and you knew how to look good. "Late bloomer" was what he liked to call women like you, the type who took themselves too seriously in school, but then learnt how to be pretty in their latter years. They would know how to relax, to not be so uptight.

So there he sat in a booth at a restaurant downtown, waiting, a little impatient to see that you were late. Perhaps he was to blame to tell you to take your time and freshen up at home. He wondered if you would doll up. Where would you show your skin? Where would you shave? He liked it shaved. His fingers toyed with the small tea cup, tapping its side and running down the curve of its rim.

"Hi! Sorry for the wait... I was caught up with a phone call."

He looked up. There you were, smiling down at him. He shamelessly looked at your body, studying the way the nice dress pants accentuate your hip and ass. Then, as you sat down, he took notes of your off-shoulder top, then the blink of your earrings. You may tried to make it seem innocuous, but he could tell. You dressed up for him.

"Not at all! I just got here."

You kept your smile on. He didn't notice that it was manufactured. He was caught up watching you leaning forward, your fingers flipping over the menu. The way your cleavage was catching shadow captured his attention.

"So, how is Tokyo treating you?"

He didn't think you would speak first. You barely humored any small talks during the day, only giving him just enough.

"It's good, it's good", he mused, "I'm enjoying the new culture and people. It's all very new to me, so I'm excited."

You looked up at him now, your eyes narrowing as your smile widened.

"It's a great city. There's always something to look at. Do you ever miss your friends and family, though?"

He leaned in as well, closing the gap. He could see you flinch just barely as his fluffy black curls almost tickle your forehead.

"Well, of course. I miss my family a lot, especially my sister. She's applying for college soon, and I wish I could be there to support her, you know?"

"You have a sister?"

He was pleased to see you following the script so far. Girls were often intrigued by the fact that he had a sister - it means he grew up knowing how to be sensitive and protective. It was a reliable card to play.

"Yeah, we grew up quite close, you know. I still remember her crying like a baby when I left for college", he chuckled, "now it's her turn."

You laughed softly at that.

"Yeah... she must be so sad to see you go to Japan, right?"

He nods, his eyes flickering between your face and your neck, eager to peer right down your top. You must be wearing those stick-on nipple covers to rock a top like that.

"Oh, she was, but she's more excited to be independent in college. Too excited, to be honest. I had to warn her not to get in troubles."

"What kind of trouble?"

He found himself looking at your lips now. Your gentle voice and soft gaze managed to distract him. For a second, he found himself pausing to stare.

"Oh... alcohol, drugs, bad friends. You know the deal."

"Did you get into troubles in college, too?"

The simple question now seemed so implicative. He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing, and he saw that you looked. Your lashes flutterred for a second before your eyes met his.

Empty.

You were harder to read than he thought. Perhaps it was the age difference, he wondered, or the fact that your naturally composed attitude had sealed your attraction toward him. He never hit on an older woman before, so he supposed it was only natural that he couldn't catch your energy right away. Or were you secretly experienced? Three years seemed little to him at first, but he suddenly felt self-conscious at your still demeanor. You were still smiling and expectant, but in a different way than he imagined. You were yet to be doe-eyed, yet to melt when she heard about his bond with his sister. How many men had had their ways with you? Did you please them well? Did you moved and squirm under their touch? He felt himself heating up.

"Good afternoon, dear customers. May I take your order?"

He almost jumped. You didn't. Awkwardly pointing to the menu, he glanced at you who quickly said your orders. You seemed comfortable.

Did he lose his edge?

The waiter swiftly left. Lukas felt that the chemistry was disrupted. His keen eyes watched your form pulling back away from him, and he caught the faint perfume wafting his way. He decided to keep his posture forward, staying on the offensive side.

"I guess I did get into some troubles", he admitted, his hand instinctively rubbing the nape of his neck, as if to conceal what his clothes couldn't. His skin was warm to the touch.

"Well, what kind?"

He couldn't tell if you were interested. You were asking him lots of questions, even from the start. Did you want to know more about him?

"Oh, we were crazy. One time, a pledge covered himself in lighter fluid and lit himself on fire before jumping into the pool."

"Ah... so the typical frat bros stuff. I guess I've seen something like that at X. Uni", you nodded, your smile turning a bit cheeky.

He shifted even closer.

"Yeah, we were bad boys. Were you in a sorrority? Greek life is big at X."

You shook yout head slowly.

"No... It seemed very fun, but I guess I was too focused on other stuff."

"What stuff?"

"I was trying to keep my scholarship, so that took most of my time, I guess. I wasn't too involved with student life aside trom the school's art magazine."

"So you are a smartie?"

You hung your head humbly.

"I guess you could say that."

"So what did you do to blow off steam, then? Or were you at the library all day?"

He felt just a bit desperate trying to know you. He knew his bombarding questions were coming off a little strong, but he didn't want to feel exposed and insecure anymore. He had opened up, he thought it would be fair if you let him in a little. Wind down, be less uptight.

"I went to Ellum sometimes."

Ellum, the bar street. So you knew how to party after all. Maybe you did have experiences with men.

"Oh, me and my boys liked it there."

"For troubles?"

He laughed.

"For troubles, yeah. It'd be crazy if we met and never knew it."

"Well, it was all dark and loud in there. Maybe we did."

"Then it's fate."

He felt corny saying it, but the words slipped out anyway. His heart twisted when you laughed at that, your chest vibrating. You lifted your hand to cover your smile, and he saw a glimpse of ink as your top pulled against your shoulder. Tattoos, huh? He didn't peg you as the type to get them.

Seeing that it was his chance, he reached over to adjust the fabric, his fingertips lingering just a moment too long. He felt it, the electric as he felt your cool skin against his own. You were soft and smooth, like a nice spread of butter against crispy toast.

"Oh, my bad, I just saw your shirt falling off a little there."

Your laugh dwindled. You touched where he touched, your chest rising and lowering at a slower beat.

Lukas found himself feeling expectant.

"Ah, well, thank you", you said, your voice more relaxed now. That was a good sign.

The waiters came back with the orders and left just as hurriedly.

"I have a question", Lukas mused, somehow anxious to lose your attention when you reached for your utensils.

"Pray tell."

"What's the best food place that you've ever been in Tokyo?"

He winced internally. Corny and immature, that was what he was being. What a 17-year-old first date question that was.

"I'd say the unlabelled streetfood carts at the open-air markets", you said, your finger resting on your chin for a moment, "I like to go there if I ever have to stay late at work."

"You gotta show me sometimes, then. I love streetfood!"

He felt stupid clawing at any ways he could to compel your interest. You were right there, laughing at his jokes, asking about his family, paying attention to him. Yet somehow he still felt like you were distant, somewhere in an invisible fish bowl, and what he had said to you were muffled through the water and glass.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. But let me know if you are allergic to anything, or if you are scared of seafood."

"Not at all", he confidently shook his head, "I went to Italy last summer, and the seafood was amazing!"

"Trip across Europe?"

"Trip across Europe", he nodded, "I'd say, Italy for best seafood, France for best wine, Germany for best beer, and Netherlands for the best, well, you know..."

You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I see you like to travel."

"Oh, it changes my whole perspective. I really found myself, you know. It's like... I come back a whole different person. I think everyone should travel."

You gave him a strange look. Not a scowl nor a frown. A gentle squint of the eyes. It could be anything. He couldn't decide if he was being too boastful, or if he had said something wrong. Did you not like that? Maybe you hadn't been as well-travelled as he was, and what he said had come across as unrelatable.

"But of course, you know, if your money allows it. It doesn't cost as much as you think if you know how to budget."

The playful twinkle in your eyes told him that you were responding to him, and likely not negatively. Still, he felt more stupid adding on to what he said. He didn't know why, but he felt as though you were looking down on him.

Why would you look down on him?

Lukas may not realize it, but this was one of the rare occasions when he let the "why" bother him.

"Of course, travelling can be great. I haven't travelled much, but I imagine that when I have enough money, I would travel. I have a few places in mind."

"Where to?"

"For starter, Norway."

Weird answer.

"What's in Norway?"

"The aurora borealis."

He furrowed his brows.

"You want to see the northern light?"

"More than anything."

"It doesn't cost that much though."

"Yeah, but solo travelling costs more, I imagine."

"I can go with you."

He felt decidedly stupid and overconfident.

"Wouldn't that be something...", you commented, your eyes casting aside, "well, that's my top destination for sure."

You were growing cold again. Lukas couldn't for the life of him figure out where he was going wrong. Maybe you just weren't attracted to him, but that was unlikely. He knew how good he looked. He may have heard "sorry I have a boyfriend" and "I'm looking for something serious", but he couldn't think of a time when someone had admitted to him not being their type. Not even behind his back.

"Also, you seem to like to drink. Two out of the four places you mentioned was about alcohol."

He didn't expect you to pick up on the conversation. Maybe he simply had gotten into his head.

"Oh, I guess. I did drink a lot in college, but that's just what it was all about, you know?"

"About troubles, I know."

He felt his face growing hot.

"Right... well, I'd love to know what other Japanese drinks are like, too. I've tasted sake, but it was mild. I'm more of a beer and shots guy."

"Wine, too, right? In France."

You had not once lost your composure. He felt like he was squirming in his seat. He wanted to sleep with you, that was clear. He needed to know what it was like to get with someone older than him, even if it was a mere three years. What would you be like in bed? What did you learn from all the men from your past? The unphased facade, the tattoo, the way you maintained your calm upon his touch and his banter... you knew something he didn't. You had experienced things he hadn't.

"Right, that. Do you drink at all? Here, in Japan, I mean."

"Sometimes."

"Hey, it's a Friday night. Do you maybe want to grab a drink at a pub somewhere after this?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. He knew he was being brash and bold, but he couldn't help it. You were something he wanted to add to his collection.

Letting you mull over it, he watched your calm face.

"Sure...", you softly agreed, "but only for a little while."

"Something coming up tomorrow?"

Someone to see tomorrow?

Your blank eyes glimmered under the flourescent light for a second. He almost wanted to hold his breath.

"Just some personal affair in the afternoon."

There you go being elusive again. He thought he would have had you in his palm by now, but not yet. Maybe he didn't know your type.

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