#shameless x oc

[answer2jeff]

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[nozo-muu]

WE'RE LIKE THE MODERN VERSION OF BONNIE AND CLYDE

Hey, Zero here. I'm doing this little post to introduce my two OCs for the series "Shameless". An inseparable duo that deals with the ups and downs of the south side..

Name: Rust Anderson

Gender: Male

Height: 190cm

Sexuality: Bisexual/Pansexual/Unlabeled

Ethnicity: White

Physical appearance: Tall brunette guy with a semi-muscular build.

Who is he?

Orphan adopted by the Anderson's. He's rumoured to be some bastard child of a CEO from north side. He loves music, he's funny and is not into violence. He's considered the "goody two shoes" of the southside. Someone is always talking about how he helped someone out of nowhere, which is quite the feat in the south side. He's Ian Gallagher's age, and is one of his best friends.

He struggles with ADHD, depression, which usually leads him to isolating himself, and some kind of undiagnosed Peter-pan sindrome, probably due to not having lived the best early childhood in foster care. He also likes his alcohol and drugs at parties, it "reminds him that there's more to life".

(Romantic interests: Amanda, Lip Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich, Sandy Milkovich, Carina Flores?)

Name: Carina Flores

Gender: Female

Height: 165 cm

Sexuality: Bisexual/ Comp-het lesbian

Ethnicity: Native

Physical appearance: Pretty brunette girl with an amazing fashion sense and a ton of piercings.

Who is she?

Orphan adopted by the Flores. She's the child of a couple that crossed the border that got deported back. She met Rust at foster care. She excells at academics and is super popular at school. She also loves music, one of her shared passions with Rust. Kinda gets annoyed at Rust's friendly and giving nature.

Wants to leave the south side, go live her big dreams somewhere else, where she can truly be herself.

Deals with anger issues and regular crash-outs, deals with body dismorphya and self esteem issues. She also tends to go heavy on drugs when she's out... It helps her "forget she lives in this shit hole". (Yes, they both have the same philosophy when it comes to substances)

(Romantic interests: Lip Gallagher, Amanda, Mandy Milkovich, Sandy Milkovich, Karen Jackson, Rust Anderson?)

Probably will use these characters to write fanfictions, either Shameless X oc or Shameless X reader.

[scourgiez]

Finally got around to drawing my farmer :P

[fangdokja]

A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

Step into a world of dangerous devotion and forbidden desires. A Heart Devoured is a collection of hauntingly seductive one-shots and imagines, each exploring the intoxicating grip of male yanderes. From possessive protectors to manipulative masterminds, these stories dive deep into the dark allure of obsession, blending romance, horror, and suspense.

Whether you crave a lover who would burn the world for you—or one who would chain you to it—this anthology delivers raw passion and chilling intensity that will leave you breathless and craving more.

You are their everything. Escape, if you dare.

Warning: These husbands take "forever" seriously.

────────────

Note: Want to make a LONG request for original yanderes (OC's)? Read the Rules and Regulations, first, before requesting. Failure to abide by the rules will have your request ignored and deleted.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)

♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:

Table of Contents

Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid & Little Omega

Drabbles

“You look prettier when you cry.”

“Do you know what I love most about you?”

“You don’t get to decide anymore,”

“And treasures don’t get to escape.”

“You’re waiting for someone to come for you, aren’t you?”

“Cry for me,”

“But don’t worry, darling. I’ll fill it with something better. Me.”

“You’ll only ever have one choice with me,”

Novelette 1 : Marked and Mated

🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.

Yandere! Chief of Police & Dollface

Headcanons

The sirens wailed, but no one was coming for you—they were his, just like you are now.

Yandere! College! Bully & Loser

Details: MBTI - INFJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Oneshots

The worst part? You’ve stopped trying to fight it.

Novella 1 : Torn Between Us

In a world where no one cares, he’s the one who notices you… and that’s frightening.

Trust no one. Not even yourself.

🔞Part 3

🔞Part 4

Yandere! Criminal Prosecutor & Pet

Drabbles

“Soon, you won’t even remember what freedom tasted like.”

"Kneel. Now."

Oneshots

“This isn’t an interrogation. It’s a love story—you just don’t know it yet.”

Yandere! Divorce Attorney & Church Girl

Headcanons

In his world, love isn’t a choice—it’s a life sentence.

Novella 1 : Skin of the Saint

He didn’t believe in love, but she made him question everything.

She was everything he despised, and yet he kept returning.

She lived for her God; he lived to see her fall.

⭐He couldn’t touch her purity, but he could burn everything around her.

He wasn’t your savior, but he would break you like a sinner.

His love was a sin, but sins could be absolved—couldn’t they?

A stolen kiss, a forged marriage, and a choice that would ruin more than just your life.

🔞He kissed her like a punishment, touched her like a prayer.

Novelette 2 : Angels Cry, Devils Burn

Angels Cry, Devils Burn 1

Yandere! Emperor & Little Dove

Details: MBTI - ENFJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“Do you know why I haven’t kissed you yet?”

“Do you like it?”

Headcanons

"I burned their world for daring to look at you—imagine what I’d do if you tried to leave."

Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend & Cheating Bitch

Details: MBTI - ENTP ; Enneagram - 7w8

Drabbles

“You disobeyed me. Again.”

“Miss me?”

“Pray I don’t snap. Because if I do, you won’t survive it.”

Novella 1 : Friction & Fire

She wasn't looking for love, but love wasn't asking for permission.

Some truths are better left buried.

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Yandere! FBI Agent & Sweets

Oneshots

He knows your favorite color, your childhood fears, and how you’ll look in a coffin.

Yandere! Hitman & любимая {darling}

Oneshots

“You should’ve pulled the trigger when you had the chance.”

Yandere! Hockey Captain & Ice Princess

Oneshots

You skate for freedom, but he’s about to make you his trophy.

Yandere! Isekai! Knight & Little Mouse

Details: MBTI - ENTJ; Enneagram - 8w7

Headcanons

What happens when a hero's love turns into an obsession that even he can't control?

Oneshots

In his eyes, your defiance isn’t strength—it’s foreplay.

Yandere! Marine Corps & Good Girl

Details: MBTI - ISTP ; Enneagram - 6w5

Oneshots

He crushed a man’s skull beneath his boot and turned to you with a smile.

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

Yandere! Nerd & Little Sugar

Details: MBTI - INTJ ; Enneagram - 6w5

Drabbles

“You think this is a game?”

Oneshots

No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.

Yandere! Owner (?) & ???

Oneshots

Sold to the highest bidder—your nightmare begins now.

Yandere! Painter & ???

Drabbles

"You like testing me, don’t you?"

Yandere! Prison Warden & Fuckin' Filth

Oneshots

In this prison, there are no rules—except for his.

The rules are simple: obey, or suffer. And you’ve already broken every single one.

Yandere! Professional Gambler & Doll

Headcanons

He’s the last bet you’ll ever make—and the one you’ll never walk away from.

Yandere! Reverse Harem & Rape Slave

Novella 1 : Killer Charm

🔞Killer Charm 1

🔞Killer Charm 2

🔞Killer Charm 3

🔞Killer Charm 4

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss & Wife

Details: MBTI - ENTJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Novelette 1 : The Enemy In His Bed

⭐️🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

Yandere! Spanish Pirate Captain & Mi Tesoro {treasure}

Novelette 1 : El Capitán's Tesoro

🔞When the Capitán says you're his treasure, he means it—he’ll spill blood, even yours, to keep it.

Yandere! Stalker & ???

Oneshots

The man in your apartment knows you better than you know yourself.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy & Sugar Baby (?)

Drabbles

“You didn’t think I’d let you leave after the vows, did you?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Headcanons

⭐You’ve never feared a kiss before, but his feels like a loaded gun.

Novella 1 : Bye, Bye, Bye

In his world, sugar babies don’t get to keep secrets.

He gave you everything, but all you gave him was distance—and it was driving him mad.

The rules were clear: no emotions, no questions, no attachments—until he broke every single one.

Jealousy is a fire, and he’ll burn anyone who gets too close.

🔞He’s not just your sugar daddy—he’s a sadistic master who won’t let you go.

When devotion turns to madness, no one is safe—not even the one he loves.

Novella 2 : Money, Money, Money

Money, Money, Money 1

Yandere! Vigilante & Sweetheart

Headcanons

"I’ll burn the world if it means keeping you warm in the ashes."

He’d rather destroy you than let someone else touch you—because if you’re not his, you’re nothing.

Oneshots

He’s the savior of many—but your destruction is his true mission.

Yandere! Volleyball Captain & Babe

Oneshots

“They all warned you about me, didn’t they? But you just couldn’t stay away.”

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor & Little Prey

Details: MBTI - ISTP; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“No, I’d rather keep you. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”

Oneshots

⭐️In the world of the dead, he was the only thing keeping you alive—and tearing you apart.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld , @imnotabot28 , @ncsltgic , @aishiyaa , @scotchhopin , @queenmimis , @yandreams-storageblog

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1 [you are here]. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[annokan]

Can you draw morw Toby x y/n pls ? Of you have time ofc

Honestly, love drawing Toby reacting to Y/N.

[bearsandswears]

Sequel to this.

You know that “Ha!” Gale does when he dodges an attack? I’m imagining a more good natured version of that. Just, like, a little bark of a laugh.

Funny enough, since I originally used Asena as a serial one shot character, in another life she has actually been in an adventuring party with a lizard wizard (they were not romantically involved and it also may have been a tiny sentient wizard hat controlling a regular lizard).

Bonus:

[gallaghersgal]

just started s10 when tami is pregnant asf so now i’m thinking about lip with a lovey needy pregnant gf 🧸🩷 ((not edited + been awake 24hrs+))

“good morning baby,” you croon, watching lip come sleepily down the stairs. he runs a hand through soft, messy curls and waves to franny, who had started giggling the moment she saw him. you sat at the table with her while debbie was in the shower, filing out your crossword and letting franny ask you questions she had about her new baby cousin in your tummy.

“what uh-, fuck, what time is it? how long’ve you been up?” lip asks, rifling through the cabinet for a half-eaten, half-stale box of cereal. he’s tired, you can see the dark circles from across the room. you’d made the decision to let him sleep in, leaving him in the morning with a sweet kiss on his cheek before drawing the curtains and shutting the door.

you shrug, “about noon… been down here since seven. this baby sure is a gallagher, ‘cause he’s real hard headed and stubborn,” you say, playfully pointed at your baby bump.

“baby gallagher,” he mumbles, almost in awe as he pours two bowls of cereal.

you stand, one hand on your back to ease the constant weight of your pregnancy belly, and make your way over to lip. he smiles knowingly as you hold out the fruit basket to him, and takes a banana to cut up in your cheerios. just the way you like it.

he’s thoughtful in that way, knowing what you wanted, what you needed, understanding you in a way no one has before. while lost in thought you feel his arms wrap around your middle, hands resting gently on your baby bump. then, you feel your son kick right under lip’s hand. sure, there’s discomfort attached, but it’s all worth it when you look back at the sweet smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“hey buddy, how ya doin’ in there? hm?” he murmurs down toward your tummy.

“he’s been rowdy this morning,” you confess. you’d barely slept because of your son’s constant kicking. “i think he’s ready to be outta there, aren’t you little man?”

lip laughs softly at that, moving to finish slicing up the banana for your cereal. “you should’ve woke me up. i could’a helped try and get ya comfortable or somethin’,” he tells you, turning his head towards you with concerned eyes.

you just shake your head with a dismissive smile. “you needed the rest, lip. i let you sleep in.”

“hey, look at me will ya?” he says, reaching a hand out to guide your cheek. you meet his eyes, seeing him softly search your face. “you gotta rest too, mama.”

you shrug him off, but fall in at his side as grabs the milk from the fridge. “baby keeps me up, then i think about all the shit i gotta do and-“

“nuh uh, none of that, we’re in this together yeah?” he says bluntly, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“of course,” you respond with a kiss to his cheek. his skin is still warm from sleep, and you breathe in the scent of tobacco and cologne.

lip nods, satisfied. “there we go, end of discussion. you wake me up next time, you hear me?” he says playfully. he turns around to grab the shaker of cinnamon but you reach out and catch his sleeve, pulling him in so your faces are nearly touching.

“thank you,” you murmur to him, hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “and i love you. so, so much.”

you can feel lip heat up at your words, but he kisses you softly instead. the two of you are so close together, the world falling silent as you lived in this brief, shared moment.

“yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, laughing softly, but after a moment his shifts into a genuine expression as he adds, “love you too mama.”

end.

[fairytwles]

pov: the yellowjackets had a camera.

[kkolg]

Abyss - Scraton

[melni-zirgi]

i learned to make gifs, background animation is next fr fr 👹👹 This ukrainian movie clip is going #viral on eastern euro internet everyone is drawing dancing lobsters and onions 🕺💃👯‍♂️ very catchy tiria riria pompompom

click and zoom for quality... 👉👈

[dokjafang]

∘₊✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒 ✧₊∘

❝ 𝘈 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘥 & 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘦. ❞ (✦ 𝙰 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙲𝚃𝚄𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚂 ✦)

🌙 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞: An underground sanctuary for the damned. You have entered a world of villainous love, cruel devotion, and inescapable obsession. This is where male yanderes reign supreme—where light is consumed by the abyss, and love is just another form of madness.

☕ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐭𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞: A shadowy, candlelit café-library buried beneath the city, only whispered about in dark corners. A place where books bleed, the coffee is black as sin, and every page is laced with tragedy.

📖 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨: Jesus Christ & My Husband. They are the only reasons I’m still alive. My books, my stories, and my soul belong to them.

✦ 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖘 𝖆 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝕵𝖊𝖘𝖚𝖘 & 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖚𝖘𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉.

🕯️ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✧ Lamentations 3:1-2 ✧ “I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of the LORD’s wrath. He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than light.”

⟡ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 – Devil's Antagonist ⟡

📌 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭:⤷ Current Polls & Events | Request Status | About Me

📜 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫: ⤷ General Rules + Request Rules | Expanded Masterpost

This is fiction, not endorsement. I write twisted, disturbing, and horrific things because it's cathartic. Fluff and slice-of-life feel more surreal to me than horror ever could. If you can’t stomach the dark, turn back now.

➤ Follow to Avoid Censorship 🕯️: [AO3 | Official Site]

⟡ 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 ⟡ ⤷ Abyss Archives - Where obsession & desire intertwine. ⤷ Somniphage - RPG + erotic horror + Yandere Reverse Harem Otome

𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. ⤷ 𝑮𝒐𝒅'𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕 → 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘴, 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵. ⤷ 𝑨 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 → 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯. ⤷ 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝑨𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒛𝒆 → 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘢, 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴. ⤷ 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒔 → 𝘌𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳, 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥. ⤷ 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 → 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴. ⤷ 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 → Sadist Husband x Masochist Wife

✧𓆪 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙐𝙈 🖋 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𓆩✧𓆪 ⤷ 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬 → 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳. ⤷ 𝑰𝒏𝒌 & 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 → 𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. ⤷ 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑷𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 → 𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘴, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. ⤷ 𝒁𝒆𝒓𝒐-𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚 → 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

⛧ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 ⛧ 𝐀 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐦.

╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 & 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 — World Ablaze ╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 & 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 — A Heart Devoured ╰┈➤ 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 — Whispers In The Dark ╰┈➤ 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 & 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 — Forbidden Fruits ╰┈➤ 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 — Whispers In The Dark

🕯 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 🕯 ⤷ 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘗𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 – ink-spilled testaments of obsession, bound in leather & sin. ⤷ 𝘖𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘈𝘳𝘵 – 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮. ⤷ 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘩𝘸𝘢 / 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘢 – devotion drawn in suffering, yandere love carved into eternity.

⟡ "𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒕."

[theghostinyourwalls]

Run From Me

Stu Macher/Ghostface x F!Reader

Tags: dubcon, noncon, role playing, knife play, threats, stalking, happy ending, smut, glove kink, mask kink, fingering, choking, breath play, power play, fear play, unprotected sex, creampie, inappropriate use of photography, established relationships.

“Hello?” You answered the ringing phone, politely.

“Hello,” An unfamiliar, deeper voice echoed your greeting.

“Yes?” You prompted.

“Who is this?” The man inquired.

“Hm, who are you trying to reach?” You replied with a question of your own.

“What number is this?” He seemed content to ask questions back, in no rush to get off the phone.

“Well, what number are you trying to reach?” You asked again, trying to be helpful.

“I don't know,” he answered, but he didn’t sound confused or unsure.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number,” You tried wrapping up the call.

“Do I?” Again he sounded sure of himself.

“It happens, take it easy,” You excused and hung up, returning to your calm night in. Your focus returned to the horror movie on the small screen in the living room. Jamie Lee Curtis was anxiously looking out her window when the loud startling ring of the phone came again.

“Uhm, hello?” You answered again.

“I’m sorry I guess I dialed the wrong number,” The same voice filtered through the telephone.

“So why’d you dial it again?” You huffed a laugh at the oddity.

“To apologize,” he answered smoothly.

“You’re forgiven, bye now,” You moved to hang the phone up, when he called out.

“Wait--Wait, don’t hang up.” There was an almost irresistible plea in his voice that kept you on the line. He sounded cute.

“What?” you indulged.

“I wanna talk to you for a second,” he simply answered.

“They’ve got 900 numbers for that, see ya.” You hung up once again, finding his simple request not as entertaining as you had hoped.

But then the phone rang once again, and you couldn't stop yourself from picking up.

“Hello?”

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” He played hurt, but the theatrics in his tone gave him away.

“Who is this?” you grew curious.

“You tell you your name, I’ll tell you mine.” he said it as though it was a scandalous proposition.

“Hah, I don't think so,” you shook your head, blushing. Were you just simply imagining him flirting with you or was that a line?

“What’s that noise?” he asked, he must have heard the screaming coming from Halloween.

“A scary movie.”

“You like scary movies?”

“Uh-huh,” You nodded enthusiastically.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don't know,” You shrugged.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Halloween, you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters? What’s yours?”

“Guess,” he insisted playfully.

“Um, Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, Freddy Krueger, that’s right,” You nodded, impressed with his taste.

“I like that movie. It was scary,” he lowered his voice for effect.

“Well, the first one was but the rest sucked,” You gave your opinion.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” he asked, and then you became sure. He was definitely flirting.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” you teased, trying to stop the grin from completely overtaking your face.

“Maybe,” he answered in a sing-song note before asking again, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” you lied, enjoying the stranger's attention.

“You never told me your name,” he pointed out.

“Why do you want to know my name?”

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at,” his voice dropped once again and a chill ran up your spine.

“What did you say?” You felt out of balance, suddenly snapping your attention to the dark windows surrounding the living room. You couldn't see anything beyond what the dim pool lights illuminated.

“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to,” he corrected himself.

“That’s not what you said,” You shook your head, a little breathless as fight or flight began to kick in your brain.

“What do you think I said?”

“Um,” You tried to think back to mere seconds ago. Had you really misheard him?

“Hello?” he tried again.

“Look, I gotta go,” you apologized, now eager to get off the phone.

“Wait, I thought we were gonna go out?” He sounded overly hurt and upset.

“Oh, no, I don't think so,” you declined, hanging up as he called his last demand.

“Don’t hang up on me!”

You turned the volume up on the television to keep your mind from jumping at every creak. He was just some creep playing a prank, you figured. you weren't going to be intimidated by a loser with nothing better to do than call random numbers and try to scare them. The ringing came again and you had half a mind to tell him off. You were going to make him regret trying to make fun of you.

“I told you not to hang up on me,” the lighter tone had disappeared from the near growl of anger that rumbled through the speaker now.

“Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the cops, and I do have a boyfriend! He's big and strong and when he comes home he’s going to kick your ass!” you tried to scare the man on the phone.

“I’m getting scared. I’m shaking in my boots,” he mocked.

“What do you want?” you asked, turning around in your living room, looking out the window.

“To see what your insides look like,” The crude statement sent shivers down your spine.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“More of a game, really, can you handle that?”

“Please– No! I can’t--”

“Run, I’ll give you five seconds,”

You dropped the phone set at your feet. Your mind was moving faster than you could as you began locking the doors around the house. As you whipped around to the back door your racing heart dropped into your stomach. It was wide open. The man was already inside your house. You doubted you could outrun him if you shot out the door, and made the life dependent decision to hide in the house where you were more familiar than him and call the police. This was your one shot at survival. You turned and started to race to your room. As you passed by the kitchen you could hear the man laughing distantly over the phone, but it sounded off. It sounded as if it were two voices. One from over the phone and the other nearby. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the entryway closet door swing open, revealing a tall figure draped in black robes with a white mask that stretched into a scream.

Your lungs burned as you sprinted to your bedroom. His boots stomped right behind you as he closed in on you. As you reached the top of the stairs you noticed your bedroom door was closed. You knew it was going to take a couple more seconds to get it open and close it behind you, successfully locking yourself in. You just had to make it in time.

You grasped the cool metal of your door handle, but before you could turn it to push the door open, the masked intruder caught you. He grabbed your wrist, tearing it away from the door handle and pushed you up against the door. Air was forced out of your lungs as he crushed your body. His body firmly pressed against yours from behind until you couldn't move at all.

“Did you really think you could get away so easily?” He let out a soft hum as he drew a knife from his sleeve. “You should know, the only reason I didn't get you earlier was because I wanted to see you run from me. It just makes it all the more fun when I catch you.” He placed the knife to your throat.

“Please you don’t have to do this," you cried out a soft plea for mercy. “I’ll do anything you say please just don’t kill me,” you begged the masked man.

“Anything?” He asked and moved the blade away from your neck.

“Yes, please, just don’t hurt me.” your voice sounded shaky and more tears began trickling down your face.

“Now, now, that wasn’t part of the deal. I won't kill you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make you suffer.” He pulls back his hand, knife tight in his grip, and thrusts it violently into the door right above your shoulder. You yelped and tried to flinch away only to find that you couldn't. The knife caught on your sweater, trapping you to the door.

Now that you couldn't escape from him he eased off of you ever so slightly, but his touch never left your body. You could feel his hands reach the hem of your sweater. His leather gloves cold on your bare skin as he began trailing them up your stomach. Goosebumps flared across your torso underneath his gloved fingertips. You gasped as he reached higher, touching the underside of your breasts.

“No, no please, you don’t have to do this!” You whimpered. He ignored your pleas as he roughly groped your breasts with his large hands. As he massaged your breasts, his fingers found your nipples. He would switch from rolling them between his fingers to harshly pulling them, creating a pulsing, twisting mixture of pleasure and pain. Your traitorous body reacted, shivering and shaking as the ache in your core craved more from your attacker. You still tried your best to hide the arousal, biting your tongue to stop any noises from spilling from your lips. The thought of him knowing you felt pleasure from this was mortifying and you were already overboiling from embarrassment. One of his hands left your breast as he moved it up to your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you to look at him, and you knew he would know by the look on your face.

“Oh don’t look so concerned, we’re just getting started.” His hand that was squeezing your breast began to travel down your body. He slipped past the waistband of your skirt and into your panties. The sensation of his gloved fingers brushing against your clit sent a jolt of pleasure throughout your body making you jump involuntarily. Your face burned with shame as he continued to move his hand further, sliding his fingers in between your slick folds. He circled them around gathering your arousal and bringing them back up to your clit. The obscenely wet sound it made was humiliating. you tried to hide your face from him which earned you a harsh tug on your hair. As he yanked your head back, exposing your neck to him, you let out a pitiful moan.

“You don’t have to keep lying to yourself. We both know how much you like this. I’ve barely touched you, yet you’re already soaking my fingers.” He started moving his fingers, circling your sensitive clit. You jumped at the sensation, still trying to get your body free from his touch. “What’s the matter? Are you embarrassed? Ashamed that you’re so wet for some random freak? Or maybe it’s guilt? Are you thinking about your boyfriend?”

“No! Stop it!” A violent sob ripped out of your throat. Even though you were trying to resist him, your pussy throbbed for more. As if on cue, fingers began moving further towards your entrance. His two fingers slid in with little resistance as they were coated with your arousal. A gasp left your lips as you felt his fingers sinking deeper into your cunt. Your wall’s clenched down on him as he reached a certain spot, his palm replacing the pressure on your clit.

“Speaking of your poor boyfriend, isn’t he supposed to be coming home soon? You know any second he could walk up here and see his perfect little girlfriend cumming around my fingers. Wouldn’t that be something?” He thrusted his long and dexterous fingers in and out of your pussy, curling his fingers to rub against your velvet walls. You could feel the pressure of your impending climax building in your abdomen. “But, I’m thinking of something much better.” He pulled his hand from your panties and brought his slick fingers to your face, dragging them along your cheek before pressing them to your lips. You reluctantly opened your mouth out of fear of what he would do if you didn't obey him. “Be a good girl and lick them clean.” He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you tasted your arousal on his leather gloves.

As you licked and sucked on his fingers you heard him groan in approval. Pushing his erection into you, he slowly grinded into the curve of your ass. He pressed down on your tongue before removing his hand from your face and trailing it down your body. Once he reached your thighs he began moving back up, lifting up your skirt in the process. The thin lace caught his eye, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Awe, did you wear these just for him? That’s so cute.”

You yelped as he yanked them down to your knees, leaving you completely exposed. The cool air hitting your core made you shudder. Then there was the soft clink of his belt followed by a deep sigh. His hard length slapped against your ass before he positioned himself between your legs. He rocked his hips against you, his cock sliding through your slick folds. The head of his cock brushed against your clit making you whine. He continued to repeat the lewd action until his length was completely covered in your arousal.

“C’mon honey, we both know you want this just as much as I do. Just look how you're drenching my cock. All you have to do is tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.”

“Please, just make me cum. Use your fingers, your mouth, your cock I don’t care anymore. Just stop toying with me,” you moaned.

“Oh, but it's so fun,” he teased, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pushed in slowly, still trying to push you past breaking point. The pain of his cock stretching you was oddly pleasurable. You took him inch by inch until he bottomed out. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix. The feeling of him that deep made your body feel weightless. Your thighs trembled at the sensation of being so full.

“Please, please fuck me. Make me scream,” you begged. With that he grabbed you firmly by the waist. His hips stirred as he began to slowly pull out of you before harshly slamming back into you.

“With a set of lungs like those, it would be a shame for me not to.” He kept the rhythm of his hips at a steady pace. Each thrust was harder than the last, pushing into you deeper and deeper. The blunt head of his cock rammed against your cervix, bruising it in the process. He never faltered keeping up his brutal pace. It was as if he was trying to split you open. The drag of his hard length in and out of you was animalistic. He enveloped all of your senses as you fully gave into the feel of him ravaging your body.

You didn’t notice his hand that had traveled up towards your neck until it was too late. He wrapped his large gloved hand around your throat. He rested it there, a reminder of the power he held over you. Slowly, as if to see if you would resist, he began to squeeze. It wasn’t a light squeeze, it was a possessive hold that he had on you. It made you lightheaded, but he never cut off your airflow. The lack of blood to your head heightened your sensitivity, making you distinctly aware of your throbbing clit. You tried to reach down to touch your neglected bundle of nerves, but your hand was smacked away.

“So desperate for release, but you don’t have any control here, do you sweetie?” He took his time sliding his free hand down to your core. He teasingly slapped your clit, making you cry out. “You look so pretty when you're in pain. It makes me wonder what you’d look like if I made you into a bloody mess.” His tone became darker, filled with a sick fascination. He groaned as you involuntarily clenched around him. You couldn’t lie to yourself, his perverted words only brought you closer to the edge. Finally, he brought his fingers to your needy clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. Your stomach tightened as you felt your impending orgasm.

He was close too, you could tell by the way his cock twitched inside you. His breathing was heavy and every once in a while you could hear a small moan escape from him. He desperately rutted into you as your walls tightened around him. His cock pulsed deep inside of you as he reached his high. The sudden extra heat sent you over the edge as you came. Your pussy fluttered around his leaking cock, milking him dry. He released his hold on you allowing you to better catch your breath.

You whimpered as he pulled out of you. The sensation of his cum leaking out of your aching pussy and down your thighs made you shiver. You leaned against the door, both your mind and body exhausted.

As you began coming back to reality you noticed he wasn’t against you anymore. His touch was gone. you tried to get up and remove the knife from your sweater, but was gently pushed back against the door.

“I’m not done with you yet.” The wood floor creaked as he shuffled around behind you. Your body tensed as you anticipated his touch on your overstimulated body, but to your surprise he never made contact. You were going to try and free yourself again but froze as you heard the clicking of a camera lens. He was taking pictures of you. Then there was another click soon accompanied by more. Your face burned with shame as you squirmed, trying to at least save your dignity. He laughed at your pathetic attempt to cover yourself. “That’s cute, trying to hide.” he chuckled to himself.

He stood from where he was crouched behind you and pulled the knife out of the door, freeing you. He spun you around to face him and reached up to remove the mask hiding his identity, revealing your boyfriend, Stu Macher. His face had a warm glow from their intimate game as he grinned at you. He cupped your face and pulled you to look into his lovesick eyes. “Surprise, baby.”

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

@setsuna-meiou31

@kateris-world

@unatempesta-dipensieri

@jspidey5

@lyrixsnape

@bbykens

@johnmurphys-sass

@rockymiles

@joshysloshy

@luckylightcosplay

@melmel-fandom

@whosiris

@yu-87

@chalkoutljnes-blog

@ameliachastain

@eatmyshortsz666

@alexisabirdie

@snifellus

@roxy366

@stainedglasscrystals

@sojantrouxao

@mariaeatsworms

@cheri-cheri-cherry

@lizziebitch33

@dreamybxnny

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@daydreamer-and-booklover

@daemonwhitedove

@yoongjennie88

@aureum-lepus

@lolwey

@alanalanalanalanalanna

@dystopiaincognito

@rye-flower

[fangdokja]

He’s the hero in his own story… and you’re his latest toy.

❤︎ Synopsis. An unhinged author who controls every aspect of your life, weaving a dark narrative where you’re both the protagonist and his plaything—he writes your fate, but only if you endure his disturbing obsession. In his world, every chapter brings you closer to a horrifying end… unless you please him.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Author x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Fate’s Final Draft - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 5,218

♡ TW. dom + top + older + sadistic yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, depression and mental illnesses, implied suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving mental illnesses, self-harm, and suicide, some plot details of the original story were purposefully made ambiguous to fit the platform.

♡ A/N. Wahaha, finally made this idea. It is possible for him to have his own Main Story; but I'm still thinking about it, since I have a lot of shiz to do haha. I was going to put the NSFW erotic horror part, but it was getting too long already.

♡ Yandere! Author who sees the world as his manuscript and everyone in it as characters for his narrative—mere pawns on a chessboard he rearranges at his whim.

♡ Yandere! Author who was once a literary prodigy, hailed as a genius storyteller for his grimdark tales that left readers breathless and disturbed. Critics marveled at his uncanny ability to craft despair, heartbreak, and suffering so vivid it felt alive. Little did they know he wasn’t just writing fiction—he was recreating his fantasies in the real world, puppeteering events to mirror the chaos in his mind.

♡ Yandere! Author who despised the monotony of real life. “People are so… boring,” he’d mutter, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips. No one suffered properly; no one’s struggles were beautiful. To him, the world lacked intrigue. Until you.

♡ Yandere! Author who plucked you from your dull, ordinary existence like a child selecting a toy from a shelf, more out of habit than interest. You weren’t special—just another pawn in his grand game, another character to throw into the chaotic maelstrom of his imagination.

♡ Yandere! Author who didn’t think much of you at first. Quiet, gloomy, meek. You lacked the charisma of a hero, the fire of a rebel, or even the arrogance of an antihero. Just another blank slate with nothing to offer but the predictable reactions of someone out of their depth. But that was fine. You weren’t meant to be interesting. You were meant to survive—or not. Either outcome was entertaining.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Author who dropped you into his latest world—a fantasy isekai brimming with magic, monsters, and a cruel leveling system that ensured nothing came easily. “Good luck,” he’d murmured to himself, watching as you stumbled into your new reality. He hadn’t even bothered to give you a cheat ability or a supportive companion. You were cannon fodder, a nobody. Your story wasn’t supposed to last long.

♡ Yandere! Author who delighted in throwing obstacles your way. A cursed weapon that drained your life force whenever you wielded it. A village that betrayed you the moment you turned your back. A party of adventurers who abandoned you at the first sign of danger. Every twist, every betrayal, every near-death encounter was a carefully crafted piece of his art.

♡ Yandere! Author who laughed aloud when you failed, tripping over your own feet in the face of danger, barely scraping by with nothing but luck and desperation.

“How pitiful,” he’d muse, scribbling notes in the margins of his book. “Not even a shred of resolve. I wonder how long you'll last.”

♡ Yandere! Author who couldn’t resist pushing you further. When you lingered too long in a safe zone, he unleashed a plague. When you finally caught a moment of peace, he summoned a beast that tore through the tranquility like paper. When you found a rare treasure, he made sure someone stronger, greedier, took it from you. Every time you thought you were one step closer to victory, he yanked the rug out from under you.

♡ Yandere! Author who barely even noticed the way you persisted. At first, it was amusing, in a “look at the bug crawling out of the trap” sort of way.

You didn’t fight back, not really. You just endured, trudging forward like someone too tired to give up. It wasn’t resilience. It wasn’t strength. It was nothing worth writing home about. Yet you survived longer than he’d expected. Longer than most.

♡ Yandere! Author who began to notice your patterns. The way you didn’t waste time trying to rally allies or plot revenge against those who wronged you. You just… kept going. Quiet, unassuming, almost boring in how you refused to break. No grand speeches, no tearful outbursts, no fiery declarations of vengeance. Just silence. And somehow, that silence started to irritate him.

♡ Yandere! Author who started to poke harder, his curiosity piqued despite himself. He sent you a companion who betrayed you the moment you grew attached. He trapped you in a dungeon with no clear way out, just to see how long you’d last without food or hope. He introduced a rival, someone far more capable, to crush any fleeting sense of progress. And still, you lived.

♡ Yandere! Author who began to grow frustrated, his usual detachment slipping.

“Why won’t you break?” he muttered, leaning over his desk as he watched you struggle through yet another of his impossible scenarios.

There was no satisfaction in your suffering, no drama, no spectacle. You were boring, predictable, and yet… infuriatingly tenacious.

♡ Yandere! Author who threw you into the final trial of that first world, expecting it to be your end. A labyrinth filled with traps, monsters, and puzzles designed to shatter even the strongest of wills. He made sure to stack the odds against you, laughing to himself as he imagined your inevitable demise. But you survived. Barely.

———

♡ Yandere! Author who then throws you into a modern, thriller-horror world—something grounded in frightening realism where paranoia seeps into every corner. It’s a city crawling with secrets, where every smile hides an ulterior motive and murder is just another piece of the puzzle.

♡ Yandere! Author who’s still irritated as he writes your entry into this new world. He hates being proven wrong, and the fact that you survived his last creation gnaws at him. But rules are rules. Killing you outright would be a betrayal of his art, and if there’s one thing he holds sacred, it’s his craft. He’s a creator, not a hack. If you’re going to die, it’ll be on his terms—poetic, meaningful, unforgettable.

♡ Yandere! Author who drops you into this nightmare with nothing but your wits. No powers, no special abilities, not even a single ally you can trust. You wake up in a city that feels alive in all the worst ways: too many eyes watching, too many whispers following you like ghosts. The air itself feels oppressive, and danger lurks just out of sight, waiting for you to make one wrong move.

♡ Yandere! Author who sets the stage with a murder investigation—a gruesome, chilling crime that sets the entire city on edge. He knows how to craft fear, how to make every detail unnervingly realistic. Bloodstains that seem too fresh, suspects who lie with smiles that don’t reach their eyes, evidence that vanishes the moment you think you’ve found it. He weaves the threads of the mystery so tightly that it’s impossible to tell who’s the predator and who’s the prey.

♡ Yandere! Author who watches from his perch as you stumble through this new world, his annoyance tempered by the thrill of the game. You’re cautious, hesitant, and still so painfully predictable to him.

He nudges you toward danger at every turn—a “helpful” stranger who knows too much, a missed phone call that could’ve saved you, a shadow lurking just behind the corner. He pushes and prods, waiting for the moment you’ll falter.

♡ Yandere! Author who doesn’t shy away from making it personal. He paints the world with your fears, digging into the recesses of your mind to pull out the things that make your skin crawl. A too-familiar face in a crowd. A voicemail from a loved one you don’t remember having. Rooms that look like places you’ve been but shouldn’t exist here. He loves psychological horror, the kind that eats away at your sanity, and you’re the perfect subject for his masterpiece.

♡ Yandere! Author who grows frustrated when you continue to endure, even as the world around you crumbles. You’re cautious to the point of paranoia, hesitant to trust anyone, and maddeningly silent in your suffering.

You’re playing his game, sure, but not the way he wants you to.

It’s not fun this way.

He craves the drama, the despair, the art of it all—and you, with your quiet determination, are robbing him of the spectacle.

♡ Yandere! Author who watches with growing intrigue as you adapt. You’re still boring to him—quiet, gloomy, unremarkable—but there’s something in the way you navigate his traps, how you outmaneuver his designs without even realizing it. It’s not notable skill or flashy brilliance; it’s a quiet kind of intellect. And for someone as obsessed with control as he is, your unpredictability is both infuriating and captivating.

♡ Yandere! Author who, despite his annoyance, can’t help but enjoy watching you squirm. You’re a puzzle he hasn’t solved yet, and that irritates him to no end. But he tells himself it’s fine. You’re just another character, another experiment. You’re not special.

♡ Yandere! Author who leans back in his chair, pen tapping against his lips as he watches you stumble through another one of his traps. “Let’s see how long you can last this time,” he murmurs, his irritation giving way to a slow, unsettling grin. “Don’t disappoint me, little protagonist. I’m just getting started.”

———

♡ Yandere! Author who creates one of his signature magnum opus—a grimdark epic drenched in despair, betrayal, and violence. This is his masterpiece, the pinnacle of his craft, and the perfect stage to break you once and for all. No hope, no redemption, no safety. In this world, survival is a cruel joke, and death is the only certainty.

♡ Yandere! Author who throws you into the chaos with nothing but the clothes on your back. A crumbling kingdom teetering on the brink of war, political intrigue so convoluted it devours its players whole, and monsters lurking in the shadows—both human and otherwise. He crafts the world so meticulously that even the air feels heavy with doom. There’s no escape, no mercy, no way out. Or so he thinks.

♡ Yandere! Author who raises an eyebrow the moment you start to deviate from his script. It’s subtle at first—minor choices that ripple outward in unexpected ways. A betrayal you sidestep, an alliance you form that shouldn’t exist, a carefully constructed chain of events you unravel with quiet precision.

At first, he thinks it’s luck.

Then, he thinks it’s coincidence.

But as the story spirals further from his design, he begins to realize: you’re rewriting the script.

♡ Yandere! Author who leans forward, fingers steepled, his irritation giving way to intrigue.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs, watching as you dismantle his carefully laid plans.

He’s seen this trope before—characters defying their roles, rewriting their fates. But those stories are sloppy, riddled with plot armor and deus ex machina. He hates those stories. He despises their stupidity, their lack of respect for the craft. Yet… this is different. You have no plot armor. You have no cheats, no guarantees. And somehow, you’re still alive.

♡ Yandere! Author who begins to test you, introducing new challenges designed to crush even the most determined spirit. He throws you into a city under siege, its streets filled with the screams of the dying. He pits you against a monster so horrific that it haunts your dreams. He manipulates the people around you, turning allies into enemies, twisting trust into betrayal. Yet no matter what he does, you adapt. You survive.

♡ Yandere! Author who finds himself muttering to the empty room as he watches you work.

“Clever,” he says when you outmaneuver a traitor.

“Bold,” when you risk everything for a gambit that shouldn’t have paid off.

“Stupid, reckless, but… brilliant.” He’s annoyed, yes—he hates being outplayed—but he’s also captivated.

You’re playing his game, but on your terms. And for the first time, he doesn’t know how it’s going to end.

♡ Yandere! Author who starts to see you in a new light. You’re not like the others. You don’t scream at the heavens, don’t declare war on the “unfairness” of the world. You don’t rely on luck or blind faith.

You’re calculating, deliberate, quietly defiant.

You’re everything he never expected you to be.

♡ Yandere! Author who feels a strange mix of pride and irritation when you survive his masterpiece. You’re battered, broken, barely breathing, but you’re alive. Against all odds, you’ve clawed your way through the carnage and emerged victorious.

It’s not the ending he planned, but it’s… satisfying, in its own way.

♡ Yandere! Author who chuckles softly, the sound low and dangerous.

“Well played,” he says, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“But don’t think for a second this means you’ve won. You’ve caught my attention now, little protagonist. Let’s see how far you can go before you break.”

♡ Yandere! Author who realizes, with a thrill of anticipation, that the game has only just begun.

———

♡ Yandere! Author who introduces himself for the first time in this new world, a historical reverse harem trope with an undercurrent of political intrigue and dystopia, dressed up in a pretty, romantic facade.

You find yourself in a world that seems beautiful on the surface—lavish gowns, grand balls, charming men vying for your attention. But beneath the glittering exterior, it’s a world of betrayal, manipulation, and deadly power plays.

♡ Yandere! Author who enters the story with a calm smile, playing the role of an NPC "friend" meant to help you navigate this dangerous world.

He’s the type of character who exists solely to guide you, the wise adviser, always in the background but never quite the center of attention. His role is clear—he’s there to “help” you, to watch you fall in line with the game. But his eyes… they never stop watching you.

♡ Yandere! Author, playing the part of your “helper,” leans in close one day, his voice smooth, almost soothing.

“It’s dangerous here, you know. You can trust no one. Not even those who claim to love you.” His words drip with false tenderness, though the glint in his eyes betrays the sadistic pleasure he derives from the darkness surrounding you.

“But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To guide you… to protect you.”

♡ Yandere! Author, watching you, his smile never wavering, as you stand by him, as you consistently choose him over others in the court. His eyebrows arch in surprise, and for the first time in any world, there’s a genuine flicker of confusion behind his unshakable calm.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, voice almost a purr. “You’re still here. You haven’t run off to one of those princes, haven’t you?”

You look at him, unblinking, your gaze steady. “You’re the only one I can trust. The others are all just playing a game.”

♡ Yandere! Author, leaning closer, his voice low and a little mocking, with a smirk that barely hides his amusement and something more sinister.

“How quaint. You think I’m trustworthy?” He watches as you don’t flinch, his eyes narrowing. “I suppose that makes you… my little pet then, doesn’t it?”

Your expression never changes. “I’m just smart enough to stay close to the only one who can’t be manipulated in this world.”

———

♡ Yandere! Author, sensing a shift, a delicious challenge that he’s never faced before, lets out a small laugh—one that’s cold and filled with dangerous amusement.

“How interesting,” he muses, stepping closer, his hand brushing against your arm lightly. “So, you know who I am, then?”

You meet his gaze, unwavering. “You’re not even pretending anymore.”

He tilts his head, eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of amusement and irritation. “Ah. So I’m not the only one who understands the rules of this game, hmm? You’re quite clever, aren’t you? A pity, really. Most of the ‘protagonists’ I encounter are so… naive.”

♡ Yandere! Author, now utterly intrigued by your unwavering proximity to him, begins to shift his approach. The cold, detached adviser becomes a more charming, flirtatious presence. His words are laced with honeyed poison as he circles around you like a predator testing a new, unexpected prey.

“You know,” he says, voice soft and teasing, “you could be so much more than this. I’ve seen how they all adore you. How they all want you.” He leans in closer, his breath brushing your ear.

“But I think you’re starting to realize that none of them matter, don’t you?”

You blink, not reacting to the subtle pressure in his voice. “I don’t care about them. I care about you.”

♡ Yandere! Author, for the first time, pauses, a shiver of something unfamiliar running through him. His smile falters, but just for a moment.

Then it’s back, even more dangerous, like a cat toying with its prey. “Is that so? And why is that?”

“You’re the only one who’s honest,” you say simply. “And you’re the only one who isn’t pretending to be something you’re not.”

♡ Yandere! Author, amused yet unnerved, chuckles darkly, his voice oozing with a wicked charm.

“I see. You think I’m the only one who isn’t pretending, hm? Well, maybe there’s something about you that makes you interesting after all.”

He steps back slightly, his eyes scanning you with renewed interest. “But don’t mistake this for affection. I’m not the kind of man to simply hand over trust. I’m the one who deserves it. I’m the one who’s worth it.” He grins, a little too wide, a little too sharp.

“But let’s not rush things. We’ve got plenty of time to figure out how this plays out.”

He watches you carefully, taking in every moment of your steady gaze, the way you never flinch. His heart quickens, and he can’t tell if it’s frustration or fascination that drives him now. Whatever it is, it keeps him drawn to you, and that… that is something he’s never experienced before.

———

♡ Yandere! Author who doesn’t shy away from cruelty, doesn’t flinch at the thought of breaking you piece by piece, but for some reason, you never crumble. It’s maddening.

“You’re so boring,” he sneers, pinning you against the desk, his lips curling into a sadistic grin. “But you stick to me like glue. Why? What is it you’re waiting for? A happy ending? Newsflash, sweetheart—I don’t write those.”

You stare at him, unblinking, as his fingers trace the line of your jaw, deceptively gentle. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

He laughs, sharp and bitter, his other hand slamming down on the desk beside your head. “Oh, don’t give me that. Everyone wants something. Attention. Control. Fortune. Power. Love. What is it, huh? Tell me.” His thumb presses against your lips, his gaze dark and hungry.

“Or do I have to find out myself?”

♡ Yandere! Author, who toys with you in increasingly intimate ways, his touch lingering, his voice dipping into dangerous territory.

“Do you know what I could do to you?” he whispers one night, his fingers trailing down your arm, sending shivers through your skin.

“I could ruin you. Completely. No one would know, no one would care. You’d just be another name crossed out in my little book of stories.”

Your voice is steady, your gaze unwavering. “Then why don’t you?”

His grin sharpens, his fingers tightening around your wrist. “Because, my little enigma, I like puzzles. And you…” He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

“You’re a puzzle I haven’t solved yet.”

♡ Yandere! Author, who grows more physical, testing your limits, pushing you closer to the edge with every touch, every word.

“You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the curve of your neck, “most people would be begging me to stop by now. Crying, screaming, running for their lives. But you… you just stand there, letting me do whatever I want.” He chuckles, low and dangerous.

“It’s almost like you enjoy it.”

You don’t respond, and that only seems to amuse him further.

“Or maybe,” he continues, his hands sliding down to your waist, “you think you can handle me. That you can survive me.” He presses his lips to your shoulder, a cruel smirk playing on his face.

“Tell me, do you honestly believe that? That you’re strong enough to endure this?”

♡ Yandere! Author, who starts to lose himself in the game, his sadistic intrigue growing with every interaction.

“You’re driving me insane, you know that?” he says one night, his voice sharp with frustration.

“I could end this right now. Dig through that pretty little head of yours and find out exactly what makes you tick. But no. That would be too easy.” His fingers dig into your hips, his gaze burning into yours.

“And I don’t like easy.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting, almost tender kiss before pulling back with a wicked grin.

“But you’re making me curious, and that’s a very dangerous thing, my dear. Curiosity killed the cat, after all. And I’m not a cat, but I might just kill you.”

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze with an unnerving calm. “Then why don’t you?”

For a moment, he’s silent, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. Then, he laughs—a low, dark sound that sends chills down your spine. “Because you’re interesting. And I don’t destroy my toys until I’ve wrung every ounce of entertainment out of them.”

♡ Yandere! Author, who starts to blur the lines between his sadistic games and something deeper, something he doesn’t want to name.

“Do you feel that?” he whispers one night, his hands sliding up your sides, his touch both possessive and teasing.

“That tension, that heat? It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? But you’re so composed. So controlled.” He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“It makes me want to rip you apart, just to see what’s underneath.”

You don’t flinch, your voice steady. “Do it, then.”

His grin widens, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “Oh, no, my dear. Not yet. You don’t get to decide when this ends. That’s my privilege.”

♡ Yandere! Author, who starts to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you’re as twisted as he is.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he says one night, his hands framing your face as he forces you to look at him. “You should be. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” you reply, your voice calm.

His smirk falters for just a moment before returning, sharper than ever. “Fascinating,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lips.

“You might just be my favorite experiment yet.”

———

♡ Yandere! Author who’s always prided himself on his control, his detachment. You’re just another piece on his board, another thread in his masterpiece. But this—this strange, gnawing feeling in his chest—it’s utterly foreign, and he hates it.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning back in his chair, watching you tend to yet another hapless NPC, your hands gentle, your words soft. “So this is what you’ve chosen to do with your time. Interesting choice.”

You glance at him briefly before returning your attention to the injured character. “Someone has to help them.”

His grin is sharp, dangerous. “Oh, do they? What’s the point? They’ll be dead in a few chapters anyway. Why waste your energy?”

You don’t answer, your focus unwavering as you wrap a bandage around the NPC’s arm.

♡ Yandere! Author clicks his tongue, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “You know, you’re starting to develop a bad habit. Always playing savior, always looking after others. It’s almost… predictable.”

You finally look up, your expression as calm as ever. “Maybe. But it’s what I want to do.”

His grin falters for just a fraction of a second, and something dark flickers in his eyes.

♡ Yandere! Author, who watches you interact with the love interests he’s meticulously placed around you, his jaw tightening as you laugh at one of their jokes.

“Oh, now this is rich,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery as he suddenly appears at your side. “Tell me, which one of them do you think will betray you first? The charming one with the tragic backstory? Or the brooding one who can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or kill you?”

You sigh, clearly unimpressed. “Do you always have to narrate everything?”

He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. “Always. It’s my story, after all.”

You step away, your attention shifting back to the love interests, and something snaps in him.

♡ Yandere! Author, who’s never felt this burning irritation before, this inexplicable urge to tear those carefully crafted characters apart limb by limb.

“You’re awfully invested in them, aren’t you?” he says, his tone deceptively light as he circles around you like a predator. “Do you actually think any of them are worth your time? They’re just puppets, you know. Hollow. Empty. Nothing like me.”

Your gaze meets his, steady and unflinching. “I know what they are. But at least they’re not trying to destroy me every second of the day.”

♡ Yandere! Author laughs, loud and sharp, the sound echoing in the empty room. “Destroy you? Destroy you? Oh, sweetheart, if I wanted to destroy you, you’d be gone already.”

His smile twists into something cruel. “No, I’m just… refining you. Shaping you into something better. Stronger. You should be thanking me.”

You don’t respond, and that silence claws at him, burrowing under his skin like a splinter.

———

♡ Yandere! Author, whose madness always simmers beneath a mask of cunning smiles and calculated control, finally unravels. But it’s not chaos. No shouting, no frenzy.

It’s quiet. It’s deadly.

It’s the kind of madness that burns cold and precise, carving through the air like a scalpel.

"You’ve been so patient," he says, his voice soft, almost tender, as if he’s consoling you. His head tilts, studying you like a puzzle he’s finally solved.

"And here I thought you were just stubborn. Turns out, you’ve been waiting for me to slip, haven’t you? Waiting for me to break my precious little rules."

You remain silent, but his sharp grin stretches wider, something twisted flickering in his gaze.

"Oh, I see it now," he continues, leaning in, his breath brushing against your ear.

"You’ve wanted it all along, haven’t you? That quiet little release. That final curtain call." He clicks his tongue, amusement dripping from his voice.

"Tsk, tsk. How boringly predictable."

♡ Yandere! Author, who crouches in front of you, forcing you to meet his gaze. There’s no warmth in his eyes, only a brutal, cutting clarity as he speaks.

"But I don’t care what you want," he says, his grin hardening into something more dangerous. "No, I never have. This story? You? It’s never been about you. It’s about me. What I want."

His fingers trail up to your chin, gripping it with enough force to keep you still. "And do you know what I want?" he whispers, his voice dropping to a near-silent murmur.

You shake your head—or perhaps you don’t. It doesn’t matter. He answers anyway.

"I want to keep you alive. Forever. I want to see that flicker of defiance in your eyes snuffed out again and again, only to light it back up myself." He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours in a cruel mockery of affection.

"I want to watch you crawl through my worlds, bleeding and desperate, and still unable to die."

♡ Yandere! Author who laughs, low and cruel, as he pulls back, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Death is too kind, don’t you think?" he muses, pacing in front of you like a predator toying with its prey.

"It’s a full stop. The end of the story. How... uncreative. And I am anything but uncreative."

He pauses, turning to face you fully, his grin sharp enough to cut.

"No, my dear," he says, crouching again to meet your gaze. "You’ll live. You’ll suffer. You’ll endure every twisted scenario I can dream up. And you’ll do it for me. Because I’ll make sure you can’t do anything else."

♡ Yandere! Author, whose hands frame your face, his touch paradoxically gentle despite the venom in his words.

"You think you can escape this?" he murmurs, his tone soft, almost coaxing. "Escape me? I’m the one who writes your story, sweetheart. And I’ve decided that you don’t get an ending. Not now. Not ever."

You blink up at him, expression unreadable, and he laughs, the sound echoing through the room like the toll of a bell.

"You’ll always belong to me," he continues, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if he’s memorizing the curve of your face.

"Not even death can take you away from me. I’ll drag you back from the abyss if I have to. Over and over again."

♡ Yandere! Author, who straightens, his grin softening into something almost wistful.

"It’s funny," he says, more to himself than to you. "You’ve always been such a dull little thing. Gloomy, quiet, boring. But now?" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Now you’re fascinating. A toy I never want to put down."

♡ Yandere! Author turns his back to you, hands tucked into his pockets, his voice carrying as he walks away.

"So go ahead," he calls over his shoulder, his tone deceptively light. "Keep sticking by me. Keep hoping I’ll slip. Because the more you push, the more I’ll pull. And I’ll make sure you never get what you want."

He glances back at you, his grin razor-sharp, his eyes glinting with something dark and terrible.

"After all," he says, his voice a soft purr, "what kind of artist would I be if I let my masterpiece end?"

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[gangstagandalf]

🌶️ I’m not even going to apologize for this. 🌶️

Here my lovelies. Life is hard, you deserve some shameless Ominis x mc fluff 😉 Anyone feeling inspired to write a fic??

(All characters aged up and into adulthood, 18+)