#well semi yandere
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yandereunsolved · 4 months ago
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The self aware ones of aemond, aegon and cole made me think. What if? What if the Hotd cast, show or book, are sentient and reader suspects about it but pretends to be dumb, making comments that can be innocent to downright filthy with no filter.
Reader: *sees Rhaenyra and her dragon on episode* she and her dragon looked like kitten when smiling and an angry feral cat when pissed.
-
Criston: *fighting Aemond scene on screen*
Reader: imagine giving the element of suprise punching him in the face
Aemond: *proceeds to punch Criston square in the face*
-
Friend: Rhaenyra age like fine wine, right?
Reader: *staring intently at the screen* my head between her thighs
Friend:....
Reader:....
Rhaenyra: ....
Friend: what-?
Reader: what?
Ya know? Like Reader is going along with the flow and being a gremlin about it🙂
Reader trying to watch HOTD with the yandere self-aware characters in it:
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I love you platonically anon. You always have the best thoughts. I would respond quicker, but I want to savor the thought like a slowly cooked pot roast.
Have some more random scenarios I thought of—
Reader: watching that one scene of Aemond. "Smash."
Aemond: "???"
Reader: Still trying to act like they don't know the characters are self-aware. "I would really want to have intercourse with Aemond. He wouldn't be able to walk the next day."
Aemond: struts out proudly.
Aegon II thinking: So all I had to do was show you my cock and you'd be in love with me!?
Reader: "I wonder what Daemon would look like as a blonde?"
Daemon: comes in the next scene with blonde hair.
Reader: "I want to cuddle Helaena so badly. She looks like such a good cuddler."
Helaena: "Aww..." tears come to her eyes.
Reader: "You know what? I'd fuck Cregan."
Jace: "Me too."
Reader: "What?"
Jace: 0-0 "..."
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yanchive · 7 months ago
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Man, I've been obsessed with the isekai trope lately. I've been imagining a scenario where the reader gets isekai'd into a yandere romance story as a side character. You're not the main character or a love interest. You replaced a nameless character who was solely created in the story to be killed off by the yandere love interests to further the plot.
After realizing that's the role you took on, you devise a plan to re write the story to keep yourself alive.
In the official plot, your death was the cause of getting too close to the main character. Your positive relationship with them was considered a threat to the yanderes, and so they wiped you out of the picture.
So, as any semi intelligent individual would do, you decided to avoid the main character completely.
I'd like to imagine the reader wasn't well informed of this story, didn't know who the yans were, and accidentally befriended them before they even got a chance to develop any feelings for the main character. You jumped into their lives before the events that led into the original storyline. Earning their trust and unfortunately causing some peculiar emotions in them to develop.
This fucks up the whole plot. I mean, that was your plan. You just weren't trying to fuck it up so bad that you unintentionally attracted multiple yans who decided you were the perfect match for them. You were a joy to be around. You were far more intertwined in their lives than the previous main character ever was. It was generic with them and their story. A boring, "yan see's their darling from afar for the first time and falls in love on sight." Type plot.
But with you, it was so much more personal. They grew to love you for way more than just your looks. They got to know you as a person before any sort of feelings of devotion could form.
This made their efforts to claim you so much worse than they ever were in the original plot. They were much more sinister and brutal. They usually only did massive amounts of stalking, blackmail, and the occasional murder when it came to the canon story, whereas they went all out for you.
Kidnap, murder, torture, blackmail, stalking, theft, harassment, etc. Everyone around you was a threat in their eyes. Everyone around you didn't deserve you.
By the time you realized what you've done, what you've created, its far too late to fix your mistake. You attempted to break off the friendships, avoiding them at all costs, closing yourself off and spending your time trying to find a way back to your original world.
But they don't take kindly to that. Not after everything you guys have been through. Before you could find the key back home to your world, you'd be whisked away, having your new world be the confines of your yans humble abode, away from society.
Bonus option: You attempt to bring the original main character back into the plot in hopes they could redirect the yandere back into chasing them and get them off your back. But why would they need this stranger? They don't know them like they know you. And they could care less to even try to get to know them. So, the original main character ends up taking on the role you were supposed to be. The side character who was meant to die to further the plot.
You're the main character now.
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fairy-angel222 · 8 months ago
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𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru
— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.
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᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader
᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting
᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked
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Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.
Six years.
Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.
You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.
He’d loved you since he was fifteen.
But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.
Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?
On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.
He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.
Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.
Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.
You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.
Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.
So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.
You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.
Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.
Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.
His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”
Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.
“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.
You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.
Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”
Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”
“Where?”
“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.
“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”
Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Satoru come on-“
“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.
Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.
“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.
“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.
“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.
He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”
He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”
You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“
“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.
His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.
The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.
Toji Fushiguro.
A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.
He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.
“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”
His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?
Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.
As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.
“Satoru, i didn’t-”
He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.
You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”
You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”
“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”
You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”
“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”
Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?
“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.
“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”
Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.
Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.
“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.
He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.
Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.
It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.
“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.
Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.
You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”
Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.
He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”
Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.
“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”
You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.
You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.
“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”
You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.
Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.
You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.
“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.
Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.
“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.
“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”
His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”
“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.
“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”
Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.
“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.
“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.
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lufyuu · 3 months ago
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,, Tied Up Prince ''
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Psychotic villain x Isekai'd second prince male reader
Tw/s: bondage, stockholm syndrome-ish, reader is into how the villain puts him in his place, dub-con, ripping clothes, degration, angry sex, punished reader, yandere-like oc, agressive sex.
The original post
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The sound of blades clashing is loud. Ear deafening even. The sound continues for what feels like a century to the young man. When it finally stops, he lets out a frustrated sigh. Not being able to guess what will happen next.
The masked man refuses to fall down on his knees. Instead, he limps a bit while looking up at the sword wielding main character, his sword casted aside. His long messy hair covers even more of his features due to the fact his mask has sustained some damage and yet he still finds a way to taunt the other. “你真的觉得这样��结束了吗?” , letting out a chuckle. With only a few seconds left in the episode, the viewer watches in anticipation, wondering what will happen. The semi masked man limps towards the other and out of nowhere, throws needles towards the main character. As he passes out, so do the end credits.
"WHAT!??? IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS???", you freak out over the cliffhanger ending, urgently scrolling to see if it's ongoing or if there are more episodes— unfortunately, it's neither. You feel as if you're about to metaphorically cry due to frustration. Nobody warned you there'd be a huge cliffhanger after 50 episodes! "God damnit!", you yell at nobody in particular while trying to do more research. Maybe if you look hard enough, the 51st episode will appear...right?
Even after 2 hours, you refuse to give up. You've wasted almost 3 whole days to watch this stupid series, it can't just end like that. You even go through some tiktok comments and edits too find any clues to an episode 51. Though, it's odd that nobody cares to mention the fact that there's a huge cliffhanger on the last episode. Everyone seems to be okay with it? That can't be right. Either everyone's crazy or you're going crazy.
"AHA!", you finally find a "clue" of some sort in the official website. It states that although the series does end on episode 50, it's based off of a novel which is completed. Without a second thought, you search it up only to find that the novel name is...your name? It clearly says [Name] [L. Name] as the title. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. You mindlessly click on the link.
“我们终将相遇,灵魂伴侣。”
.ᐟ.ᐟ
'My head's killing me...', when you open your eyes, you're faced with a ceiling. It wouldn't be odd if it weren't for the fact that it's not your ceiling. "What the...", you instantly sit up on the bed to look around. Not only is the ceiling not the one you usually wake up to, the entire room isnt even yours. You scramble to get on your feet, almost sprinting towards the door. When you are about to open it, it opens from the other side. "Ah!", the short, well dressed girl lets out a shocked noise, "your highness, you're up early", she regains her composure and sesms to be waiting for something. You stay quiet for a few seconds which prompts her to try and break the silence, "may I come in..?", to which you take a step to the right, allowing her to enter the spacious bedroom and put down a tray with food. Before she exits, she opens the windows for you to which you thank her for as she walks out the room, leaving you all alone once more.
"Gosh it's bright out", you walk over to the now opened window and look out. The scent of nature lingers on your nose, it calms your panicked mind in just a few seconds. The birds chirping, the leaves rustling, the sun shining brightly. Far different from the traffic jam and loud vehicles you'd normally hear. This gives you enough time to think about the situation in a calm and rational manner. 'Your highness?', is what you think of, along with the fact that the room and environment is vastly different from the messy, dark room you would usually wake up to. Questioning yourself only led to even more questions and so, you turn to look at the plate that has been served to you. Two steamed buns and a few fruits for nutrients.
"Alright let's see what I can find!", you have some optimism in you as you begin your "investigation". The courtyard is ridiculously big and so are the halls. You alnost got lost halfway in! Deciding it's time for a little break, you sit down on a nearby pavilion. "I've been here for almost an hour, am I just dreaming..", you pinch yourself a few times but end up with a red cheek and still no answers. "Ow...", you sigh, nothing has given you any answers.
"What's gotten you so stressed?", a voice rings out behind you, prompting you to turn around just enough to get a glance. A good-looking and well built man stands behind with a small smile on his face. He takes a few steps forward and sits next to you, "I don't think I've ever heard you sigh that loudly before", he tries to lighten up the mood seeing how blue you look right now. "Well...", realizing something, you do a double take, "Zhou Jian!?", you jump up in disbelief to which he responds with a very shocked face, "yes..?", he looks worried for your well, "was I really gone that long?", he chuckles and scratches his head, "I could have sworn it was just a month", you could only stand frozen in time, jaw almost wide open but you manage to keep it closed. "C'mon, sit down, tell 哥哥 what's on your mind", he smiles with his eyes closed, patting the seat next to him. You slowly sit down while staring bullets into him. "Are you mad at me?", he asks with a worried expression, you turn away, realizing your stare was bothering him. "Ahem no, of course not", in all honesty, you're trying your best to act like a younger sibling and it sure it hard when your older brother is THE Zhou Jian.
He had previously heard of your dissatisfaction with how he is almost always away from home so it wasn't unreasonable for him to think that way. "Hm, then?", he asks, tilting his head and moving closer to you. You don't even know what you want...maybe just a bit of help 'recalling' who you are. Of course you can't just say you lost your memories or something like that, it'd worry Zhou Jian.
What to do...you have to continue exploring this strange world but also can't risk alerting Zhou Jian...That's it!
"I think I just need a stroll out", you look at him. He tenses up and his eyebrows begin furrow. "You know that's not a good idea", he shakes his head, shit you just fucked up..how were you supoosed to know you're not allowed out?? "Please? There's something I need to do", you try to plead, "and I won't be out an hour", but no matter how you persist, he doesn't waver. "弟弟, if it truly is important, I'll send someone to do whatever it is for you", he offers an alternative but that doesn't work for you. There is no way to convince him so you think of another idea. You close your eyes for a moment and nod, "it's okay, I changed my mind", giving a half smile.
"Oh...they're so tall..", you look at the walls you planned to climb to get out. You never learned how to climb a rope either so that's out of the question. Maybe your secret get out plan won't be happening afterall.
'Think [Name], think!'
You pace around, trying to think of another plan. Those cliche romance shows lied to you! You can't possibly climb a tall building. While pacing around, you can't help but feel as if you're forgetting something but what? You try your best to recall the whole series, the plot, what happened and what started it.
"Zhou Jian has to defend his kingdom against the villain due to the fact that...", you talk to yourself, trying to regain memory of the show, "the villain seeks out the Kingdom's rumoured hidden temple in order to seize...", as if everything's connected, you remember the most important thing, "..the power within!", your fist gently hits your palm, and your eyes widen with excitement. "That means I probably have powers like that too!", you almost let out a happy noise but remembering that you are most likely going to be spotted faster if you do, you contain yourself. "How to activate it..", you try to think of jumping over the wall, maybe gracefully flying over to the other side but nothing happens. "They make it look so effortless in the shows", you start to wonder if there's really not a single system window to guide you.
"Your highness! It's time for your tea", a maid is clearly looking for you, shouting loudly as she searches for you everywhere. "Oh shit!", you'll get found out in no time if you don't escape now! A sudden wave of panic sends your body suddenly flying over the 40ft tall cement wall. "W-wAoHH", You brace for impact but fortunately for you, your body doesn't hit the ground roughly, infact, your fall is cushioned by an invisible object. You need time to process what just happened but the guards right around the corner says otherwise. Without missing another second, your legs sprint towards the town in hopes of not getting caught red handed. 'It seems my magic is unstable..is it because I'm not from here or is it just my new body that's weak..?'
You huff and huff due to how fast you just ran from the imperial palace to the bustling streets. After a while, you pull yourself together and look around, finally noticing the amazing scent of the street food being sold. "Excuse me", a little girl says, trying to get past you as you're blocking the middle, "sorry!", you instantly move to the side to let her get past. "Now, where to start", your eyes dart around, a mom and daughter sharing a tanghulu, a couple enjoying their stroll together and even a homeless looking man being given a baozi to eat. Looking at everything up close in person gives a different feeling than when you're watching behind a screen. Despite being here, you still have little to no clue as to who you are in this world and what your purpose is. All you know if that you're the brother of the protagonist. In the original show, there were no mentions of the protagonist ever having a younger brother so people assumed he's an only child. The only heir to the thrown, who knew there would be a spare?
Well you can't dwell on that too much, you have to at least find out what arc you're in right now. Maybe by knowing, you'd be able to assist the protagonist in fighting! Technically you're the main character now that you've isekai'd into the world so there's no way you'd be in any sort of danger!
You turn your attention to your right, the neverending displays of food makes your mouth water. Unfortunately, due to you not paying much attention to where you're walking, you bump into someone. The impact was enough to send you stumbling backwards. The stranger's hand instinctively wraps around your waist, preventing you from falling onto the people behind you and potentially creating a domino effect. His taller stature surprises you. Only when you stabilize yourself, he removes his hand. "Next time, be more aware of your surroundings", his voice is somewhat elegant yet intimidating and indifferent. You can't really diciphere him as his face is covered by a very oddly terrifying mask. It definitely stands out which makes you wonder if he does like the attention if brings him or simply he's unaware of his unique accessory. Though, before you can ask anything, he walks in past you, dissapearing into the crowd. Something about him seemed...very familiar.
After several hours of strolling and finding absolutely nothing, you notice the sun going down, dusk is coming and the night is about to settle in. So, you decide to get back to the palace the same way you got out of it, panicking and then being thrown over the wall.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Nobody seemed to have questioned why you were gone for half the day. Fortunate for you of course but does beg the question why nobody noticed a prince going missing.
In the morning, however, the same maid who had been calling out to you for tea did question where you were. "I wasn't feeling tea", was your simple yet effective answer.
"Gosh I was out for so long and yet found nothing in return", you kick a rock in the courtyard while sighing loudly. The masked man already erased from your mind. What's even worse is that with your hair this long, it takes more effort to take care of it, not to mention the hanfu which made you stand out like a sore thumb. At just a glance, one could tell you're royalty due to your attire. Maybe you should have thought of that before going out yesterday. This time, you'll dress up just like any other commoner there. There must be at least one that doesn't look like a prince's daily outfit in the closet. You look through the ginormous closet, sorting them out one by one until you finally stumble across an acceptable one.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Back to the bustling streets once more. The smell of food is still as amazing as you remember it. You seem to have forgotten something but fret not, your stomach is here to remind you of it. "I forgot...I didn't have breakfast..", you vaguely remember the picture of a plate filled with food on the table of your room. Well you can't turn back now, you're too far in. "I'll just buy something in the market", you say to yourself, walking towards the nearest food stall which sells roasted meat on sticks. The sight is already mouth watering, you can't wait to sink your teeth into it. "老板! One roasted meat please", you grin ear to ear knowing you'd have one in your hands in a few seconds, "that'll be 3 coins", did you even bring any money? You desperately try to search your hanfu for any signs of coins but to no avail. "C-can I have it...for free?", you awkwardly ask, "hah? Who do you think you are, just so you know, have to feed my family too."
'Time to pull out my status' you thought to yourself, "well, I'm—", "I'll pay for it", a hand behind you gives a few coins to the seller, prompting the seller to give the roasted meat to you. You look behind to see who had stolen your spotlight only to be face to face with yet another mask. The same mask actually. "Thank you but I could handle it by myself", you give a slight smile, "oh? It seems to me you had no money, or perhaps you'd like to pay me back?", you can tell he's a bit annoyed but what you can't tell is that he's amused. "In that case, I take it back", getting a sudden eerie feeling from the man, you leave immediately and he watches you run off.
You run until you're sure he wouldn't be able to see you anymore. "Jeez what even was that..", you wonder to yourself, why did your guts just tell you to run?? That's odd. Really though, something about that man is super familiar but what?
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
6 months have passed since you've been transmigrated to this world. Fortunately, you adapted quite a long time ago. The strange masked man hasn't been seen at all and because of that, you forgot all about him. The past few months have been relatively peaceful, with some royal guards getting occasional injuries from the amount of fights they've been in. Thankfully, Zhou Jian isn't one of them. You had a hard time accepting that your life in the original world might never return but hey, at least you're treated like royalty. The only downside is that you still aren't allowed outside. A huge bummer.
You enjoy some afternoon tea with Zhou Jian as bonding time for the two of you. "I'm surprised you haven't been sent to the battlefield yet", you jokingly comment, earning you a playful glare from the protagonist, "don't jinx it", he puts his porcelain teacup down, "though, it is strange that the scoundrel hasn't shown up in a while", he's referring to his enemy, the man who has been trying to get rid of your kingdom so they say it. "He's so mysterious too, no matter how many men I send to discover more about him, it's as if he doesn't exist at all but at the same time, he does", Zhou Jian says, looking up and wondering to himself, confused. "One day when you do catch him maybe you'll find out who he truly is", you sip on the hot fragrant tea. The two of you chat for a while before a guard interrupts it.
"Your highness! It's an emergency! The King himself has personally requested you on the battlefield to fight alongside him, it seems the enemies have gotten stronger", the voice is panicked, shaky, stumbling over his own words and trying his hardest to keep his composure but ultimately failing, miserably. Zhou Jian immediately gets up, grabbing the weapon he always carries by his side and rushing out with the guard, "I'm going to be back soon", he glances at you while he says this. Without anyone to chat with, you get up from your seat and head towards the library. Behind you, the servants bow as they take the cups and desserts away.
Even when night falls, neither the king nor Zhou Jian has returned. It's quite common for soldiers to camp out for a few days so you don't worry too much about it.
The hallways are oddly quiet. Probably since there are less guards and servants surrounding the place seeing as a few went to tend to the King and heir. More peace and quiet for you. The stars at night twinkle, the moon glowing so brightly, the sound of crickets. Not even the cold air bothers you. You yawn a bit, "time for bed", your legs carry you to the bed, not as comfortable as the one you had back at home but you can still sleep on it. You tuck yourself into bed and close your eyes, wondering what you'll have for brekafast tomorrow.
At the stroke of midnight, the sounds of blood gushing doesn't even wake you up. No scream can be heard due to the intruder's silencing them. "PROTECT THE SECOND PRI—", the loud voice cuts off, indicating the murder of the man. The imperial palace is a mess, filled with fresh blood and dead bodies. You sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the massacre happening just outside your room. Even the door creaking open doesn't wake you up from your deep slumber. A tall man hovers over you, a crown in his hand. He mumbles something but it's so quite that not even a soul can hear it. With a snap of his fingers, your hands and ankles are bound together respectively without you ever even noticing it.
"你真是个可爱的睡美人"
.ᐟ.ᐟ
Your eyes are half open, your vision all blurry due to just waking up. Your whole body aches but when you go to stretch, you find it to not be possible. You struggle and notice your hands and ankles bound by something that's glowing red. It hurts whenever you try to get rid of it. "Go on, the sight of you struggling amuses me", a voice says out loud from a corner of the room. The masked man gets up from his seat and as he walks closer to where you are bound, you notice that his mask is slightly damaged. Well, a part of it has broken off, revealing his blood colored eye.
He carries himself with such elegance that you'd think he's royalty at a first glance. He brings himself down to your level, his eye crinkle softly at the corner, the look on your face is just so adorable. "I never would have thought we'd meet again, 小王子", he grabs your chin, lifting it up so you two make eye contact. "I had an inkling you were apart of their little kingdom, I just didn't expect you to be so naive", he continues while looking at your frustrated face which he adores, "did you really think those pesky little servants could ever protect you?", you turn your head to the side, not wanting to even touch him. It is honestly a bit embarrassing for you as you've watched this whole series, know the plot and yet here you are, kidnapped by the villain himself of whom you finally remember the name of, Xu RenFeng, and not even getting the chance to put up a fight.
Xu RenFeng thinks for a moment, the silence deafening. "How about this, you and I become partners so to say", you're confused by what he's suggesting but he elaborates, "since you're hidden and have no purpose in that palace, you could be with me could you not?", he looks at you expectantly with a psychotic look in his eye. "I would kill you now but you're way too adorable to be killed just like that, I'm offering a role of a lifetime", while it does tempt you in a way, you're still not too sure about dying with him at the end. "No thank you", you don't even look at him as you say this, "I'll give you some more time to think", he stands tall and turns around, walking out the door to your prison.
To say it's a prison is exaggerating. At least it looks like an average bedroom. Not as luxurious as the one you had before but still comfortable. After a few seconds pass, you find your hands and ankles no longer bounded, giving you some freedom to explore the room you've been captured in.
Of course the surviving servants and royal guards had to inform their king and future king what had happened. From the massacre of many, many servants to the second prince going missing, presumably taken by their enemy. "We should've known it was a trap the moment he left", the King is referring to the man himself, Xu RenFeng. "Why would he want [Name]?", Zhou Jian questions, frustrated by how the situation has gone from manageable to a complete mess. His hands balled into fists, worrying for his brother's safety. They have to find you, and fast.
Meanwhile, you've been held in the room for about 5 hours. All you've been up to is trying to think of a plan to maybe just maybe, trick him long enough for the psychotic guy to let you go. From what you've seen in the show itself, he is a very calm and calculating individual, making it hard for anyone to get past him. "Gosh, it seems that the only way to get out is by relying on brute force!", compated to modern times, the door isn't made out of very strong material, maybe you can knock it down or something. When you body slam the door, it doesn't move an inch. "Well that goes my plan", you just sit against the door you had just tried to body slam in defeat.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
As days passed, you try a different method of breaking out each day but they all fail in getting you out the the prison-like room. The only time the door would open was when Xu RenFeng himself would bring you food and place it on the table in the room. Even then, when the door opened, you would be bound once more. At least the food was always good. Each time he brought food to you, he'd try to persuade you into joining him. Something about you really did pull him in. You had power over him whether you knew or not.
One day, when there's a knock on the door, you get an idea. Xu RenFeng enters the room in silence, holding a plate in one hand. He puts the food down and as he's about to open his mouth, "can you eat with me?", you ask, surprising him. Today he's wearing a different style of mask. It doesn't cover his lower face, only the eyes. You wonder why he covers his face and remain mysterious. Even towards the end of his life, he never once took off his mask. The reason was never revealed. Though, it did add to his charm which is why a lot of people fell for the guy. He hesitates but gives a slight nod, closing the door with a wave of his hand.
He takes the seat across from you, not having anything on his side of the table. "Oh, I thought you'd grab your own food?", you ask while munching down on the prepared food. "No, I'd rather enjoy the view while I can", his lips turn into a smirk. Unsettling but not the weirdest thing he's said while with you. You get a bit nervous, wanting to pull off the plan but what if he notices beforehand? 'Agh, no more overthinking it, it's now or never [Name]!', you think to yourself and reach over the table, violently tearing the mask off his face, taking him by complete surprise. With great strength and agility, he grabs ahold of your wrist which has his mask. You stare at his face. He wasn't an average looking man. No scars or bruises. Instead, he's the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on. You're left speechless and so is he for a few seconds.
The look of shock in his eyes is replaced with that of anger. Without uttering a single word and with your wrist still held in his hand, he walks over to your side of the table, glaring at you before pulling you to the bed and throwing you on it. Fortunately you aren't hurt, only frightened. You're pinned to the bedframe by the intimidating villain. Your back is against the frame and you have nowhere to run. "I've been painstakingly patient with you and yet here you are taking off my mask. Was it not obvious to you I didn't want it off, EVER?", to say he's angry is an understatement, his eyes are even more psychotic. All you can do is freeze up due to fear, knowing neither fight nor flight are options in this very moment. You can't muster up an apology, both due to fear and also the feeling of superiority, to you, this man is just a character, he'll be no longer once you find a way back to your home! Without an answer, he takes it as you not wanting to apologize. "Do you really think just because you're a prince that I can't hurt you?", he chuckles at your pathetic expression. With another snap of his fingers, you're bound once more.
As much as you'd like to deny it, the way he's aggressively holding you is really turning you on. Xu RenFeng grabs at your clothes and rips them, leaving your body vulnerable to the man. "What a sight", he looks at you up and down. You try to cover your face with your hands because of embarrassment but he pushes your hands away. "Oh my prince, don't hide your adorable expressions", he purrs.
When you blink, his hanfu has already been diacarded on the floor not far from the bed. "Won't you help a stressed man out?", with his clothes being gone, you can see his hard cock. You stare at it for a little too long, long enough for Xu RenFeng to notice. "Hm? Lost for words are we?", he seems proud of that. "I..It's..—", you bite your lip to contain the moan you were about to let out as the man lifts your legs up to his shoulder and stretches you out with two fingers. "There's a much easier way for this but I'd rather do the old fashioned way to see how you writhe in pleasure just from my fingers. You close your eyes shut, clenched fists as his fingers move around inside, "I'll stretch you so well that this big cock slips right in", just that alone makes you tighten up, earning a satisfied hum from the other. Before long, he decides it's time to add another finger, stretching you out even more. "Ah..ngh...", your moans aren't really heard, the noises you let out are more comparable to humming. Xu RenFeng doesn't like that one bit.
His take his wet fingers out of your tight hole, leaving you feeling empty and opening your eyes as to why he did that. Relying on his strength, he pulls you onto his lap, your hole hovering over his cock, almost touching the tip. "Hu–aggh", you barely have time to react before he plunges you down all the way. You let out the loudest moan that Xu RenFeng's servants are able to hear from outside the magic-sealed room. "What an amazing voice you have, 小王子", he looks up at the person who is unable to speak due to the pain and pleasure he has brought them. His cock remains inside your hole without moving an inch, "a-are you trying to tease me...move", you try to stimulate yourself by bouncing on his cock to the best of your abilities but you can't seem to do that due to him having a tight grip on your waist. "You're so fragile, I'll have an easier time breaking you", he lifts you up until the only thing left inside is his tip and immediately slams you back down on his large cock, repeating this over and over again. "Fuck..", he groans while you're almost screaming-moaning. You never imagined this would be how your first time would go. Xu RenFeng pounds your ass so rough and fast that your ass is turning red.
You feel his precum inside you as he hits your prostate over and over, showing no mercy. "Your hole was made for my cock, wasn't it?", you can't even come uo with a response in that cock filled head of yous, "I'll make sure you remember the shape of my cock by fucking you everyday", he lets out a deep laugh, watching you bounce up and down his cock. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he goes deeper until you can't think of anything anymore. You cum while moaning loudly, still being bounced up and down. The stimulation is driving you crazy, everything feels like a fever dream. Not long after you came and without warning, he cums inside while still pounding you, not stopping for a second. He's cumming as he's thrusting inside, giving a new sensation you never thought you'd feel. "I see you're enjoying this more than I am, how adorable that expression of yours", he points out, "aren't I glad I picked you up along the way", if he could, he would have given himself a pat on the back that moment. You try to push him off, wanting to go at your own pace or to possibly just take a breather, "ah-ah, we're not done", he keeps thrusting deep inside, "don't worry, I'll return you in one piece to your family soon~"
He didn't stop until he had pumped at least a few cups worth of cum inside of you. You passed out due to how rough he was being. Xu RenFeng made sure to tuck you into bed. When he came out the room with his mask back on, he appeared to be very refreshed, some servants even whispered to the others that he was practically glowing. All because of a certain young prince named [Name].
You may not know it yet but you're now stuck with a psycho of a man.
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Translation notes!
你真的觉得这样就结束了吗?
Do you really thinks this is over?
老版
Boss (in this context, used to address shopkeepers/vendors you want to buy from)
我们终将相遇,灵魂伴侣。
We will meet eventually, soulmate.
弟弟
Little brother/younger brother
哥哥
Big brother/elder brother
你真是个可爱的睡美人
You really are a cute sleeping beauty
小王子
Little prince (endearing)
I have so many ideas for this man but couldn't fit all of them in one fic🥹
There's this one kink I know you'll love but unfortunately didn't make the cut, maybe next time/drabble!
2K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 4 days ago
Text
Title: Daytrip.
Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).
Word Count: 5.6k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.
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The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.
His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.
“What’s up?”
It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”
 So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”
There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”
“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”
Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.
Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.
“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”
“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”
“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”
“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”
“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”
“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”
For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.
Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”
Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.
~
A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.
You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.
(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”
He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”
You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”
 “It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”
It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.
There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.
Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.
The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.
“You’re staring.”
“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”
“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”
“Which is?”
“I love you.”
It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.
You changed the topic swiftly.
“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”
“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”
You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”
If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”
“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”
You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.
~
Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.
If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.
More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.
“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”
“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”
“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”
He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”
Huh.
One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.
One day, but not today.
“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”
You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.
“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.
You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”
“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”
There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”
“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”
The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”
“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”
He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.
“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.
Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”
His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”
You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”
It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.
“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”
You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.
You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.
~
You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.
It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.
It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.  
Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”
“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”
“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”
“She’s dead.”
You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”
“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”
The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.
Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”
“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”
“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.
It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.
~
You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.
An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.
“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”
“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”
It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—
Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.
Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.
“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”
He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”
He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”
“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”
If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”
“It can wait.”
It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.
You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.
He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”
You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”
The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”
There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.
It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”
You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”
He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”
He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.
“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”
 You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.
~
Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.
You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”
“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”
He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.
Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.
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st4rg8te · 5 months ago
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Foul Play ♡
Yandere-ish! Scummy Teammate X Athlete! Male Reader
TW: HEAVY NSFW, dubcon, humiliation, degradation, semi-public(?), dirty talk, slut shaming, mind-break, hidden s*x toy.
[A/N: CHARACTERS ARE ALL 18+ Not edited. I literally cannot believe what I just wrote, sorry everybody.]
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The shrill sound of your coach's whistle, accompanied by your teammates' frustrated groans immediately snapped you out of your feverish daze. 
You had messed up again.
“Haah…”
A heavy breath escaped your lips as you quickly rubbed the sweat away from your forehead with the back of your hand. The basketball fell from your grasp with a dull thud, and you braced yourself for the next scathing words to come your way.
"That's the third time today [Y/N]!" Your coach shouted as he quickly walked to where you were standing, his face contorted in displeasure, "What the hell's gotten into you?"
 You could only look down at the ground in shame at his words, feeling your face heat up further from the disapproving gazes of your teammates that were now directed toward you.
"Sorry coach, I... didn't mean to." You managed to squeeze the words out through gritted teeth, feeling your body beginning to tremble.
"Why is your face so red?" Your coach's eyebrows knit together, clearly puzzled.
"I…Ah~!”
Before you could answer him, a wave of pleasure suddenly hit your body, and you buckled under your knees with a yelp. 
Your shoulders were grabbed by a firm pair of hands, keeping you in place. It took every ounce of strength not to flinch as they made contact with your hot skin. A deep, familiar voice rang out behind you, sending a wave of goosebumps down your body.
 "Sorry coach, it’s my fault. [Y/N] didn't want me to tell you that he wasn't feeling well today. I should have stopped him sooner." 
His warm breath tickled your ears, and you swallowed hard before glancing back up, meeting the dark gaze of the taller male. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips pulled up into a smug smile. 
That bastard... He was doing this on purpose!
However, your coach seemed oblivious to the interaction between both of you, and nodded his head at your teammate with a sigh, "Of course he didn't… You, go sit out or head to the nurse’s office, I don't need you dragging the other players down." 
"I can go along with him, sir."
"Wait, I can go on my own—" You helplessly squirmed under his grasp.
"Can I entrust you with him for the rest of practice then?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but a glare from the older man immediately shut you up. You could only let yourself be dragged away by your teammate, dreading for what was to come.
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The moment you reached the vacant school corridor, the taller male immediately shoved you into the storage room, making you slam painfully against the wall. 
Before you could react, a hot, wet tongue slid into your mouth, forcing its way inside. You struggled weakly, clawing against the other male's chest as pleasure began to take over your senses.
He parted away after a brief moment to gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to yours.
"Ha-aah.."
"Fuck. I've never been so turned on before." He groaned lowly, "You’re such a slut, moaning in front of everyone. Did you want to get caught that badly?"
You were beyond humiliated. Face burning in anger, your hands roughly shoved him off of you. He stumbled backward slightly, but an ever-so-annoying smirk stayed firmly fixed on his features. 
"Shut up! Just get that... that thing out of me!" 
The only response you received was a loud chuckle. You looked like you wanted to tear his head off, but how was he supposed to take you seriously? Your red-rimmed eyes stared back at him in indignation, reminiscent of a small, feral kitten trying to defend itself from being bullied.
Ah, how cute.
He wanted to fuck you even harder now. 
His hands reached out to firmly grasp your waist, spreading your legs, before roughly pulling your pants and boxers down. Aside from the jersey you wore, you were completely exposed to the taller male in front of you.
A whimper left your throat as his fingers spread your tight entrance open. You bit down on your lips, ashamed at the sight.
“Christ… you’re so wet.” He muttered.
Nestled deep within was a vibrator that lewdly spat out clear fluids, dampening your shaking thighs. The loud buzzing became louder in your ears as he began to pull the toy out, slowly, inch by inch, clearly taking his time.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
"You f-fucking bastard, stop playing with me!"
A whine escaped your lips. You instinctively bucked your hips, trying desperately to escape from his clutches. His gaze darkened at your actions.
"Don't you think you're being too mouthy right now?" His voice was low and husky. You felt yourself stiffen when rough hands tightly gripped your hips, forcing your wiggling ass to stay still.
"You’re the one with something to lose here, not me. I could just leave you in this room, dripping like a bitch in heat for some poor random janitor to find for all I care." 
"Ngh! You wouldn't—"
"But knowing how much this ass of yours loves cock, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" 
In an instant, he slammed the toy back into the deepest part of your core. Your whole body violently writhed in a mix of pain and pleasure, as though a thousand volts of electricity had struck you.
"Aahhhhhh~!"
The male repeated his actions over and over again, each time, the vibrating toy would kiss your prostate, sending you over the edge. 
His grip was firm and unrelenting as he continued to pump away despite your weak pleas. Soon, you were close to your climax, your back arched up, and wet drool lewdly dripped down your chin. 
“I’m-mmf! I’m gonna..”
But before you could cum, he sadistically withdrew the vibrator from your hole, watching as it clenched around nothing, gaping and loose.
“Beg for it.”
He leaned forward, kissing your forehead sweetly as he watched hot tears continue to spill from your eyes. 
“Beg for me, little slut. Beg for my dick.” 
You were too drunk on pleasure to think coherently. So you did as he told you, letting go of whatever dignity you had left.
With shaky arms, you reached for him, wrapping them around his neck and mewled.
"Pleeeeaaase~" 
"Please what, whore? I don't know what you want." You cried out as your hard nipples were painfully pinched by his large hand.
"Hic-I... I want you to fuck me! Pleeaaase!" 
Thankfully, he decided to have mercy on you.
He pushed his thick cock inside your hole in one go, causing you to cry out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Despite all the preparation you had gone through, the sudden intrusion was still too much to bear.
Your hole burned from the stretch. He continued to slam himself against your gummy walls, fucking you with a relentless pace. Each thrust forced a squeal out of your mouth, which only motivated him to pound you deeper. 
He was breeding you.
Wet squelching noises, mixed with your loud moans echoed throughout the dark room. It stunk with the scent of sex. A small puddle had gathered on the floor between the two of you, filthy and sticky. It didn't take long before the both of you found your release.
"Haah... Who knew that the star of the basketball team was secretly a filthy little slut? Instead of practicing with the rest of his team, he sneaks out to ride on cock all day long."
"Noo~ Ah! Th... That's not t-trueee~!" You protested in drunken slurs, clinging desperately onto his broad shoulders. 
With a final thrust, he released his seed deep inside you, causing you to spasm uncontrollably.
It felt so hot. As if you were filled to the brim with hot molten lava.
Cum leaked from the tip of your dick and spilled everywhere, coating your ruined sports jersey with a warm, gloppy mess. You lay there, unable to move an inch. 
He removed himself from you after a while, staring down at your body, flushed and covered with cum. It was truly a sight to behold.
Fucked stupid, tears dripping down your face swollen cheeks, skin littered with hickeys and bruises, hole gaping and leaking his cum. Nothing but cock on your mind.
Sigh, It was just too bad he didn’t have his phone with him at that moment. 
"Hey... the bell is about to ring soon," he said hoarsely, messily wiping away the sticky substance that clung to your skin with his palm, ignoring the way you trembled at the contact. "We need to clean up." 
Glancing around the room for a cloth or a towel, his eyes landed on the still-vibrating dildo that had been carelessly discarded on the floor. Insidious thoughts began to form in his head.
Perhaps next time, he should stick vibrators on your nipples and dick as well, or... maybe see how many you could fit in your ass like in that one porn video he watched. How well would you be able to endure it in front of others?
There were so many choices... He could feel his dick twitching again.
You two were going to have so much fun ♡.
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[A/N: I don't write smut that much so I'm still trying to practice. This one was really hard to sit through LMAO. Maybe one day I'll expand on this one but who knows. Haven't thought of a name for the ML yet. Anyways, poor Y/N!]
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, semi public sex (in a library), he's insufferable, possessive (he's used to getting what he wants n wants you all for himself), a little yandere i feel like
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rich boy alhaitham has never experienced the idea of not getting something he so terribly longed for— in fact, the very moment he laid his eyes on you, desire flooding his veins and invading his taste, it's with immediate certainty that he will make you his no matter what.
because you see, it has almost always been that way for him, the idea of something being too expensive has never really crossed his mind in his adult years— although it was safe to say that in order to make you stay forever, he must add more than the couple gifts he had already planned to send your way, such wasn't enough, despite the fact that they certainly would make things a whole lot more easier for him.
because who on earth doesn't like a costly, with diamonds paired piece of earrings from fontaine? hand crafted of immeasurable worth. or would you rather choose the extravagant silken garments from the nation of electro? oh, you forgot already silly? you're of course, getting both, it's on alhaitham after all.
he doesn't understand that this emotion growing in his heart might become quite dangerous in the future, although again, the man was of smart kind, highly aware of the power he held not only with his fortune alone, but his cleverness as well— and there would never be a time in his life where he couldn't utilize the one or the other, or use them all together to get the result he planned to achieve.
dear, dearer, dearest you, alhaitham ponders, as long as the sun was alive, as long as desire merges with his addiction,
"i will pursue you".
alhaitham knows that from the bottom of his heart, he will make you his, and not just have you for a short period of time during those special days— where two people simply let go of steam, soft fingertips glissading over the edges of sweaty skin as you're wrapped around his fingers, the slight swell of your lips, the strong blush on his cheeks, both vividly showing that the two of you cannot keep your hands away from each other.
as expected, you find yourself hidden behind a bookshelf in the house of daena, and alhaitham kisses you like he has been imagining it for decades on end, soft lips dancing over yours as he forces his tongue past your mouth, his hands greedily skimming through your trembling figure— soul catching soul, like each touch of him felt like it was searing through you, burning your clothes.
there, in those precise rolls of fingers repeatedly crossing your sensitive nipples, alhaitham makes himself acquainted with your trace as he graciously feels around the curves of your body and how well you reacted to his touch, kiss and tremble— an immediate reminder for him that you like it when he touched you like that, lapped his tongue over yours like that or pressed his muscular thigh against your wet cunt like that.
alhaitham was cruel in a way— one might even go as far as to assume that pairing an excessively clever man with a boundless amount of money harbors a much darker meaning in on itself.
but right now, he was slightly cruel to you as well when it becomes more and more painful and he knows, he always does, especially when he notices how you're having trouble breathing from his antics, quite wobbly on your footing as you look up at him through soft eyes, lips parted when each kiss of him made your heart clench, unknowing of everything, only waiting until he finally fucks you like you wanted to.
what you do not realize is that rich boy alhaitham was already weak for you, and he could barely wait himself, his mind fighting with his rationality, being overthrown by nothing more than the addictive scent of your perfume blossoming across the skin on your neck.
he flips you around instantly, your figure now squished between his chest and the bookshelf before he flicks your skirt up with ease, almost territorial like he's the only one allowed to do that from now on, frenziedly touching and loving your body like he needed you to breathe and stay alive, like it's only you who can make him be this way.
"ahh— fuck," he gasps into the back of your neck, his hot breath planing across the skin and manifesting a strong shiver down your spine, "i love those earrings on you," as he trails off, your hips twisting and twitching when he finds them with his hands, repeatedly pistoling his thick shaft into you until the lewd, squelching noises of skin on skin were overturning your little whimpers, smack smack smack, it's only getting louder— so alhaitham uses one hand to quickly close one palm around your noisy mouth.
he thinks it's adorable how you forgot that you were still in a library, yet it only showed him that he was doing everything right, only a little more until you're all his.
the scribe has got you covered, okay? alhaitham needs you to realize that from now on, you have nothing to worry about anymore, so please get that into your pretty head! you're far too delicate and pretty to trouble yourself with something such as stress, not anymore— because wether it was intimacy you craved, love you sought after or money you needed,
alhaitham has got you.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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beneathashadytree · 7 months ago
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SENDING THEM NUDES AT WORK - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN
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Warnings : NSFW obviously, mentions of masturbation, sex, and nudity, Zayne has a sir kink, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : filth smut
Additional notes : This was requested by two sweet nonnies, and loosely inspired by the new Zayne date, as well as @zaynesaurora ‘s post about Zayne having a sir kink🙏🏽
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elsecrytt · 1 month ago
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Professional (Kento Nanami)
A gift for @eevwrites <3
Summary: Kento Nanami is your OBGYN. The father... isn't present for this journey, but that's okay. Nanami always takes care of his patients.
Warnings: Themes of pregnancy, parenthood discussion of abortion, childbirth (semi-graphic), paternal abandonment, toxic relationships, yandere.
Reader is pregnant and WANTS the baby. Nanami is 1000% feminist, he just also happens to be a yandere sdfhslghg
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Nanami Kento considers himself an excellent physician, even if some would call his bedside manner 'gruff'.
Obstetrics and gynecology is a sensitive subject for many and he stives, every day, to maintain the height of professional decorum.
As a professional and as a physician, he would never admit to having a favorite patient.
As a man, something soars inside his chest whenever you walk into his clinic.
You're so young to be a mother - that was his first assessment, though of course he'd never say as much out loud.
As your doctor, he asks questions purely on the basis of being able to provide the best care possible. The more he knows about your circumstances, the more assistance he can offer.
That was the first time he'd felt that warmth in his chest - the look of utter relief and gratitude in your eyes, nearly tearing up.
Nanami watches you try to compose yourself, discreetly slides the tissues closer to you as you tell him a much-shortened version of your story.
The father isn't present because he doesn't want anything to do with this child.
It's a disheartening tale, made no less so by the fact that he himself had always dreamed of being a father.
At a young age, he'd discovered that he was completely sterile. So becoming a doctor and delivering them had felt like the closes he could get.
But there's this glow in your face. A sheepish sort of smile accompanied by a little tear and a "I know it's stupid, but I've just always wanted to be a mom, and have a family, and - well. Anyways, I want this baby."
And he could be excused if his heart is moved a little. It's not professional, but is it professional when he holds the hand of a woman whose husband was too nervous to come into the room with her?
It it professional when he gives a woman one of his rarest smiles, tells her she's doing great, she'll see her baby soon?
It it professional how his heart leaps as the infant starts crowning, how it races in his chest as he helps to deliver this new life into the world?
It is professional when he assures worried mothers that they're still beautiful, that their bodies are perfectly natural and healthy even if they never appear identical to how they were before?
Professional is not always what's best for his patients. And being a good doctor means being what his patients need, not the model of a distant physician.
So Nanami doesn't think about being professional when he reaches out to hold your hand, telling you with a smile that he'll help you get through with this.
He provides resources, walks you through getting aid from different programs, helps you in any way he can. Above and beyond.
So what if he's blurring lines? You're his patient. You're all alone in this journey. He's the only one here to help you through this. Of course he'll go the extra mile to help.
Nanami is only human. He could be excused for having a favorite patient.
He watches you grow more and more anxious as your body changes. He prescribes you sleep aids, nausea medication, prenatal vitamins.
When you get the ultrasound, he's the first person you show it to. You tell him with a laugh that he's the only one so far, and he can't help but embrace you, boundaries be damned.
It's beautiful. You're having a girl, a beautiful baby girl, and he's sure she'll look just like you. He asks you what names you're thinking of and you're bursting with ideas to tell him.
It occurs to him, heartbreakingly, that you're the only person he has to share this with.
So animated, so creative and full of life. How could anyone abandon a wonderful young woman like you? Who wouldn't want you in their life?
Security lets him know that there's a man who's been waiting outside the clinic. They've seen you arguing with him - gone out to break things up, too.
Your conversations with him grow more hesitant. You're nervous, and he's perhaps a little pushy in asking why, reminding you that stress isn't good for the baby.
You laugh sheepishly (why? why are you always so demure? you act like you're just waiting to be struck down. it terrifies him.), telling him that 'the father' has recently come back into your life, and you're not sure.
There's a little sigh you make that tells him he's in, you're about to spill. And he doesn't like what he hears.
Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - didn't want the baby at all at first. He blew up at you, telling you to get an abortion, or get dumped.
Obviously, you kept the child, and he'd summarily left. You stumble on your words and Nanami wonders just how amicable that parting was.
Apparently, he's outside the clinic now to "reconcile". His parents, traditional and wealthy folk, have threatened to cut him off. He's talking about getting married now, you mention with a bitter laugh.
It doesn't pass his notice, the contemplative nature of your tone, how you pause and look away before you rub your neck and mention something about how you shouldn't be so harsh, he's trying and it was selfish of you to want to keep the baby when you knew he didn't want it.
Something dark and terrible boils up inside him at the thought. He has never, ever tried to sway a woman for or against terminating a pregnancy, only informed them.
And he comes across them every day. Men like this, who thought women and their pregnancies were props, mere fixtures in their lives to be taken down or put up whenever they wanted.
What he wouldn't give to have a child of his own. To deliver a baby and just... keep it in his arms, knowing he would take that fragile, teary creature home. Knowing he would watch it grow up alongside the woman it came from.
You laugh it off, haltingly. Ask Nanami, with your head hung low, if he knows any programs you can sign up for, or places that sell prenatal vitamins at a discount.
Nanami tries very hard to ignore the thought that springs up in the back of his mind.
I could take care of you. I would take care of you.
He ignores the thoughts, dismisses them, and then the daydreams start.
It's not like he doesn't have money. He's a doctor. There's money in the bank, but what does he have? Working long hours every day only to come back to an empty home, empty bed.
Empty life. No friends, no family, just work, work, work.
And it's for a reason. He loves his job, he loves helping you - women like you. He spends his days caring for women and their pregnancies, only to deliver and hand off the child to another man.
But these men wouldn't take better care of these children than him. Who could take better care of your aches and pains and struggles than him? Who could understand you, empathize with you, support you like he could?
It's not the man that lurks outside the clinic with an angry look on his face. The man who discarded you like trash, and now wants to pick you back up like a misplaced toy.
So Nanami makes a choice. You're his favorite patient, after all.
He doesn't want to do this. He's a doctor, he's sworn to do no harm. But some things are simply inexcusable.
Nanami's done a lot of favors for a lot of people. One Fushiguro Toji, whose wife he saved on the operating table, one well-connected former classmate Gojo Satoru, and the man disappears.
You come to him the next day, crying. Tears in your eyes. Your former boyfriend - the one who said he would reconcile, the one who wanted to see your daughter - he didn't show up.
He takes one of your hands in his, nodding and humming at all the right parts. Sympathy pouring out through his eyes.
It's terrible to see you like this. It really is. You never deserved this, none of it. You're an angel, really, heaven-sent, and you'll be such a wonderful mother, once the baby arrives.
But since he's dead, it's not as if his name needs to be on the birth certificate. You could put any name you wanted on there. That's for later, though.
Right now you need comfort and reassurance. You need someone to take charge, to help you through this, and he's been the one doing that this whole time.
You've been on your own, trying so hard, waiting for a man who didn't deserve you to come back and treat you with basic human dignity. And Nanami had spared you that fate.
One day, you'll be grateful things turned out like this. For now, he just holds you, strokes your back while you cry, shushes you.
Nanami smiles to himself. It isn't professional.
It isn't professional, but being professional comes second to being a good doctor. To being the person you needed in your life.
Based on your delivery date... he's quite sure he could make it a June wedding.
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coffee-and-tea-time · 4 months ago
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑
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Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader
We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins
This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee
It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea
Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)
Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader
Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere? 
"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"
"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"
He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.
"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"
You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.
“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"
He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.
"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”
He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.
"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"
Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.
"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"
The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.
"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"
… Gotcha
"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"
A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.
You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly 
"... don't tell management"
It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.
 "Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"
You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.
"He's already purchased" 
He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?
"Damn, okay, then Lio…"
You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.
"Sorry"
He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.
You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.
"You’re doing this on purpose"
You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.
"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"
That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.
"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".
(...)
You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist. 
And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?. 
You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes. 
» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”
You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message
» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over” 
His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell. 
You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good. 
He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.
“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”
You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.
He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks
“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning” 
He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you
“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”
You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.
“I suppose you could call me Jade…”
“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”
You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.
“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"
His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.
"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"
His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.
"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"
"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"
You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.
"Then, do yo-"
His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.
"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"
As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.
"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"
You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.
“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”
You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.
“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”
Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing. 
"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"
You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.
"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”
“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”
Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.
Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?
As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.
"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"
You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.
As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.
"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"
The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.
"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”
You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?
You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp. 
Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.
"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it" 
You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.
(…)
“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”
The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…
"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"
The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.
"I… don't know, I just drank that"
You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.
"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"
Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?
"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling" 
Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance. 
"Jade, I-"
"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"
You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.
He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy! 
. . .
Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘
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kierahn · 8 months ago
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DRIVEN. [ y ! assassin x m ! reader ]
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[ nsfw, minors DNI ]
yandere! assassin x journalist! male reader
warnings :
nsfw
forced non-con [in bold letters]
dead dove
reader death
slight torture warning
semi-necrophilia ?
hi, i'm back after three months of dying🧍‍♂️ it might take me awhile before i post a fic again, but here's an update for you guys.
malachi was a man whose services could be availed with just the right amount of money. he isn't the type to settle for less, confident that he was beyond excellent at doing his job.
ask him to dispose of someone and it would be as if they never existed in the first place. most of his victims' bodies had never been found. that, or they would be beyond recognizable when found. traces of his victims' existence would be gone in a pull of a trigger, with only their names to be remembered by their loved ones.
you were a journalist, renowned for your boldness and endless pursuit for the truth. unlike malachi, your silence can't be bought by any amount of money. you never hesitated to shed light on several issues which made you a formidable force in the eyes of the elite. after all, a journalist who values transparency above anything is someone to be feared by their kind; shrouded with secrets that they dare not reveal to the media.
you were well aware of the risks that came with your job, but that never once detered your work. truly remarkable, but idiotic in a sense.
you knew that it would all come to bite you back someday. with all those companies that you had brought down and names that you have ruined; maybe this was your karma catching up to you.
even as you stood at the receiving end of malachi's gun, regret never once entered your mind. you will never regret challenging the elites. they were nothing but a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their status and disposing of anything that threatened to destroy it.
over the past few months he had been keeping a watchful eye on you, malachi hadn't expected you to barely flinch despite having a gun pressed against your forehead.
"what an interesting reaction," the male on the other end mused as his calculating gaze studied your unfazed expression.
you truly were a bold one, always so headstrong and indifferent. even when threatened with a bullet through your skull, you stood your ground, not even a yell for help or a plead for him to spare you.
"why am i not surprised," a sound of amusement escaped malachi's lips. "you've always been so fearless. perhaps, you were already expecting this to happen."
he wasn't entirely wrong, you've long envisioned this scenario inside your head.
you stood with an oddly placid expression before the barrel of his gun, but your hands told a completely different story. they trembled against your sides, a stark contrast to your calm demeanor.
you were scared.
you could only hope that he could do it quickly to save you from further embarrassment.
"there's no point in prolonging this, is there ?" you spat out in spite, opening the door for death who stood at your doorstep.
your eyes were always so full of challenge, malachi wanted to rip that away from you. he had always wanted to see you with a different expression; whether it was fear or something more.
"a shame," he slightly lowered the gun in his hand, now pointed right where your heart lies. "i've grown quite fond of you, journalist." malachi shamelessly confessed.
something you two had in common was being highly driven by your work. unfortunately for you, malachi still had a job he was committed to.
‘ bang! ‘
he didn't fret over the possibility of the gunshot being heard by a passerby. if anyone were to investigate the source of the sound, he would simply dispose of them too.
malachi watched intently as you dropped to the ground.
and there it was. your fearful expression.
your eyes were wide with tears as you clutched your side where the bullet lodged itself, your breathing laboured as your mind quickly worked to try and numb out the excruciating pain you felt. curses left your lips, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your wrist.
he wasn't quite contented in ending things there. normally, he would go for a swift kill and dispose of his victims afterwards. however, he had purposely shot you in a spot that didn't instantly put you to rest.
the sound of footsteps nearing your fallen form reached your ears before your hand was forcefully ripped away from your bleeding side and pinned beside your head, leaving you more vulnerable than you intially were as your killer straddles your bloodied waist.
malachi's eyes scanned your tearful expression with a hint of content. absentmindedly, his free hand moved to caress your open wound.
"!!" an excruciating scream left your lips when malachi suddenly dug his finger through your bullet wound.
his grip around your wrist tightened when you started to thrash around under him, your survival instincts kicking in. you tried to throw him off of you, but your frantic movements only caused your wound to open up more.
malachi clicked his tongue in disapproval, removing his finger from your wound. "now you're just making things harder for yourself."
“HN!– ha.. f.. uck you,” you curse him through gritted teeth. your expression hardened as you shut your teary eyes tightly, trying to minimize the pain.
he leans down to move his face close to yours, examining the tears that slid down your reddened cheeks and the saliva that trickled down your chin. malachi drew his hand that was stained with your blood, brushing it under your eye and leaving a streak of crimson red.
"you know," he starts softly, feeling you tremble underneath him. "this look suits you better than the stoic one that you always wore.”
"i bet i can make you show so much more than that," malachi chuckled darkly, his words holding anticipation. "consider this a parting gift for my dear journalist."
the male roughly grabbed your cheeks to prevent you from struggling when he leans in to capture your lips into a forced kiss. his other hand left your limp wrist to rest, slipping under your bloodied shirt and brushing over the bullet wound up to your chest.
his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the tight grip on your cheeks. anyone could tell that malachi was, to some degree, fond of the man under him.
he soon broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. his lips land on your shoulder where he suddenly bit down to leave his mark, making you flinch and let out a pained groan.
malachi pulled his lips away and gently licked the bleeding bitemark to try and soothe you in a way. he straightened back up to examine his handiwork.
your eyes seemed to be in a daze, your breathing slowing down. it was a clear indication that your conciousness was beginning to slip. but before life could completely escape you, malachi lands a harsh slap to your cheek.
"don't be so ungrateful, y/n." he warns, grabbing your cheeks roughly once more, his hand that was under your shirt leaving to grasp onto your thigh. "leaving without accepting my gift. no, no. i won’t let you do that.”
malachi released his grasp on your cheeks by roughly tossing your head to the side, he worked to unbuckle your belt before slipping your trousers down to your knees. he was seething. you couldn't leave him just yet, not without him seeing your expressions as he's (literally) fucking the life out of you.
your vision swayed as the blood loss eventually made you cease your struggles. the light in your eyes was slowly fading and so was your warmth.
but that didn't stop malachi from getting his entertainment. after pulling down his own trousers, malachi rammed himself into you in one single thrust, leaving you with no preparation as you jolt at the sudden intrusion.
you weakly claw at the male's clothed chest. there was just so much pain, from the bullet wound on your side to the bitemark on your shoulder, and now the size that stretched you out dry. you could feel something warm trickling down your thighs, a a texture you could recognize.
you sobbed quietly as the pain doubled when malachi started to move without giving you the time adjust to his size. the tip of his cock worked its way on your insides, trying to find the spot that would make you melt under him.
his eyes watched as your pained expressions turn into one of hesitance. readjusting himself, malachi sets his pace. he knew that he finally found the right spot when he felt your thigh twitch in his grasp and your walls tighten around his dick. lo and behold, your look of hesitance contorted into a disturbed one as you quickly throw an arm over your face to cover yourself.
a shameful moan escaped your lips as soon as he finally hits the spot that broke it all for you. it wasn't long before you turned into a hot mess under him. your chest rose and fell in a rapid rate as you whimpered and moaned under him.
malachi's free hand roughly removed the arm that covered your slutty expressions. you looked so lewd with his cock inside you, drool spilling from your lips and your eyes rolled back in undeniable pleasure.
now this was the sight he had been longing to see.
the pain from your wound was long gone as intense pleasure eventually replaced it. malachi quickened his pace when he noticed how your cock twitched, indicating that you were near your climax. he wasn't that cruel to deny you of orgasm in your last moments.
or maybe he was.
before the knot in your lower abdomen could come undone, malachi grabbed a hold of his gun and shot you straight in between your eyes, lodging a bullet through your skull and finally putting you to rest.
your warm blood stained his lower abdomen, trickling down to his cock that continued to drive into you who had long went limp under him, your eyes deprived of life.
he gave a few more thrusts before finally spilling his warm seed inside of your ass. his breaths were heavy as he kept his cock buried inside your now freezing and stiff body.
malachi soon pulled out of your corpse, fixing his trousers and standing back up. he sheated his gun back on its holster as he gazed down at your limp body.
he knew he was fucked up, but this was on another level.
he smiled smugly.
maybe you should've picked another job in the first place.
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jaythes1mp · 5 months ago
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Your secrets are ours, kid
Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1
8919 words, 46418 characters, 408 sentences, 290 paragraphs, 32.8 pages.
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The car comes to a stop outside a fancy restaurant. The building is huge, the exterior lit up with soft, warm lights. A Doorman is standing outside, the entrance framed by a pair of elegant lion statues either side.
Bruce gets out first, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. His face is neutral as you step onto the sidewalk, his hand still gripping yours. He gives a short nod to the Doorman, who immediately opens the door to the restaurant without a word.
The interior of the restaurant is just as impressive as the outside. High ceilings, a grand lobby, and a row of archways leading to the dining areas. Expensive artwork hangs on the walls, the lighting soft but flattering. The interior is opulent, with glittering chandeliers and high arched ceilings. The soft buzz of conversation fills the air, mixing with the sound of silverware clinking against china.
The sound of soft classical music filled the air, mingling with low murmurs of hushed conversations. Almost immediately, as soon as Bruce steps inside, the atmosphere hushes. Every eye turns to look at him, then at you. The way everyone was watching you made you squirm. It was like everyone except you was in on some sort of secret.
Bruce leads you through the restaurant, his hand is still holding yours, his steps confident and assured. You get the sense that the staff know him well as you both pass, various people nod in greeting as Bruce murmurs a few words to them.
Finally, you reach a private booths, secluded in a corner, away from any potential interruptions.
The private booth you’re settled into has a dark, rich oak interior, with a large semi-circular leather booth wrapping around the table in the centre. The table is covered in a crisp white tablecloth, with a variety of fine china and sparkling silverware laid out.
Bruce motions for you to take a seat as he slips into the booth opposite you, his eyes still quietly taking in your features. You mumble a soft thanks in return. Feeling well underdressed.
A waiter appears beside your table, a tablet in his hand, a fake, courteous smile on his face as he addresses you both.
"Good evening, Mr Wayne. What can I get for you tonight?"
Bruce’s voice is measured as he responds, his gaze never leaving you. "Good evening. A bottle of the house red, and two glasses, please."
The waiter nods and disappears, leaving the two of you alone and enveloped in quiet. There's a strained atmosphere in the air, Bruce's eyes watching you intently as you shift awkwardly in the booth.
The atmosphere in the booth is tense, the silence between you and Bruce almost deafening. Trying to break the ice, you attempt a joke, your voice soft as you speak.
"Buffet, huh? You'd think a place this fancy would have a set menu."
Bruce quirks an eyebrow at your joke, a small smile flickering across his face. Despite the situation, he can't help but find it endearing.
He leans back in the leather booth, his broad frame taking up the majority of the space. "Well, I figured you might prefer to pick your own food.”
He pauses for a moment, his eyes still trained on you, "Unless you'd rather I pick for you."
Your chuckle is nervous and soft, a strange mix of anxiety and amusement. You feel a touch out of place, sitting in this posh restaurant, with Bruce Wayne staring across at you.
"No, no," you say quickly, "I can pick my own food. I don't want to trouble you."
The tension in the air is thicker now, the weight of expectations almost palpable. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, your eyes darting around the booth before settling back on Bruce's unwavering gaze.
You take a deep breath, your fingers fiddling anxiously with the hem of your shirt. You feel embarrassed, almost vulnerable in your ignorance. "Um, actually," you admit, "I'm not really sure what's on the menu here."
There's a hint of vulnerability in your voice, a vulnerability you'd usually try to hide in these situations. But in front of Bruce, you can feel yourself slipping, your guard lowering just an inch. He always seemed to leave that effect with you.
His expression softens as he watches you fidget nervously across from him. He notices every little detail, the way your fingers play with the hem of your shirt, the way your gaze darts around the booth before settling back on him.
Bruce's eyes soften as he hears the hint of vulnerability in your voice. It's a sound that's all too familiar to him, yet coming from you, it tugs at his heartstrings nonetheless. He leans forward, his forearms resting against the table, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Don't worry about it," he reassures you, his voice gentle, "You don’t have to pretend to have a taste for fine dining or anything. You can tell me what you want, or I can order something for you."
Bruce's words are a surprising contrast to the confident, almost arrogant persona he usually exudes. Here, in this moment, he seems... gentle, almost fragile in his own way.
He pauses for a moment before continuing, his eyes studying your face for any kind of response. "Although, I have to admit, I'm a little surprised to find you out alone at this time of night."
Your head snaps up suddenly as realisation hits you. "Oh, shit." You curse under your breath, your eyes wide with realisation.
The guilt settles in as you start to consider the possibility that you've interrupted something important. Maybe Bruce had a prior commitment, a business meeting or a social event, and you've stumbled right into the middle of it.
"I'm sorry," you say quickly, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to intrude. Did I ruin your plans for tonight?"
Bruce watches you carefully as your realization sinks in, your eyes widening in guilt. He notices how your body tenses, how your fingers twist nervously in your lap.
He lets your words hang in the air for a moment before responding. "Ruin my plans? You think you're the one interrupting my night?"
His words are soft, but there's a hint of amusement in his tone. As if the thought of you interrupting his plans is almost absurd to him.
Bruce had patiently waited for nearly forty-five minutes, his evening already planned out. He had booked out the entire restaurant, reserved for just the two of you, and a select few of nobodies, with the kitchen specially rented for your taste in food. He had gone through all of this trouble, just to see you.
And now, sitting across from him, you had believed that your little run-in had ruined all of his well-laid plans.
Bruce sees the guilt and worry in your expression, your shoulders tense and brow furrowed. He can't help but feel a pang of something within his chest at your expression. Of course, you would think you ruined his plans, that you somehow inconvenienced him or got in the way of something important.
As your words hang in the air, he considers telling you the truth. That these were his plans. That spending time with you - watching you grow, listening to you breathe, hearing your voice - meant more to him than anything else that the world could ever offer.
Spending time with you, his precious one, trumped all else. He would willingly cancel any other plans, rearrange any meetings, just for the opportunity to sit across from you like this. Spending time with you trumps anything and everything else.
Tonight, however, he would feign ignorance. He would act as if you were merely a convenient disruption to his otherwise busy schedule. He didn't want you to know the extent of his dedication and devotion to you. Not yet. One day you would come to be aware of the fact. Tonight however, he’ll pretend.
Bruce's face betrays nothing as he watches the guilt and worry etched on your features. He can see it clearly, the worry and guilt in the set of your shoulders, the furrow of your brow. It hurts him to see you this way, to think that somehow, you are the one who ruined his evening plans.
As your words hang in the air, a deep, silent pang resonates within his chest. He can see the tension in your shoulders, the furrow of your brow as you chew on your lip. He notices every little change in your expression, and it makes his heart ache a little bit. He wants to tell you. He wants to reassure you. To tell you that you didn't ruin anything, that you were the plan.
Finally, he lets out a soft sigh, his voice breaking the silence. "You didn't ruin anything," he says, his voice low and reassuring. "I'm not too bothered. It's not like I had something particularly important to do tonight."
He pauses for a moment, watching as your expression changes to reflect the relief that washes over you. He can see the tension leaving your body as his words sink in.
He lets out a soft chuckle, his mouth curving into a small smile. "Besides, I'd rather spend my night out with you than anyone else."
He's treading dangerously close to revealing just how important you are to him, how much you actually mean. But he just can't keep the words from escaping. To not let you know who you really are to him. You were his child. His sweet, broken, child. One that he will soon mend back together gently. Give you everything you deserved yet never got to experience.
Your expression immediately relaxes, relief washing over your face as you take in his words. It's hard to describe the feeling that floods through you. It's a strange mixture of comfort, surprise, and reassurance.
His soft chuckle and smile bring a warmth to your chest that only he can manage to ignite.
As he says he'd rather spend the night with you than anyone else, your breath catches in your throat.
You can feel the danger in his words, his care and devotion carefully concealed behind a thinly veiled facade. There's a raw honesty to his tone that makes you shiver.
The meaning behind his words hitting you like a wave. This man, this powerful, wealthy, influential man, would rather spend his time with you.
You have to bite your lip to conceal the small smile. No one has said they’d rather spend their time with you. Definitely not that woman. It so unexpected and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.
The way your expression relaxes, the surprise and relief etched on your features, makes his chest tighten a little bit. It's a feeling he's never experienced before. You're reacting in a way that is completely foreign to him. Completely new. Something he's never really gotten to experience.
Bruce notices that you're biting back a smile, and a wave of satisfaction courses through him. He's able to elicit such an unexpected, genuine reaction from you. One he's sure you don't give to just anyone. It's a feeling of pride.
He’ll have to message Tim to send him the cameras footage of that moment later.
The waiter suddenly reappears at the table, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.
Bruce's attention momentarily diverts as he nods his thanks to the waiter, taking the bottle and the pair of glasses.
He gives the waiter a dismissive gesture, indicating that he can take his leave. The waiter murmurs a soft, "Please enjoy your evening, Mr Wayne," before he exits the booth once more.
He pops the cork from the wine with ease, his hands almost like a practiced expert.
He then pours a generous amount into both glasses, the liquid a dark, rich color as it sloshes against the glass.
He hands you one of the glasses, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment as his eyes meet yours.
"Take a sip," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“Oh. I’m not the biggest wine drin...” the words die on your tongue by the encouraging grin on his lips. You look down to the rich red liquid, swirling the glass for a second before closing your eyes and drowning down a small sip.
It... wasn’t bad.
He watches as you hesitate, the words dying on your tongue, before taking a small sip of the wine. He can see the surprise flicker in your eyes as you taste the liquid. There's a hint of doubt on your face, as if you're expecting it to taste awful.
When you don't wince or make a facial expression, he lets out a soft chuckle. A satisfied sound that's low and gravelly.
"See? I don't have that bad taste in wine, do I?"
You manage to make a small sound of agreement, despite the heat of embarrassment that creeps up your face.
His chuckle, low and gravelly, sends a shiver down your spine. It's a sound that never fails to make you feel both calm and a bit flustered.
You take another, slightly larger sip of wine this time, the liquid warm as it slides down your throat, leaving a pleasant burn in its wake.
He observes as you swallow the wine, his eyes never leaving your face. He can see the slight flush to your cheeks, the way your body reacts to the warm liquid in your system. There's a small spark of triumph in his eyes.
He takes a sip of his own glass, his gaze still fixed on you.
"You're not a frequent drinker, right?" he asks, his tone casual. He already knows the answer.
You shake your head, the heat still present on your cheeks. You take another small sip of the wine, almost in an effort to cool down.
"No, I'm not," you admit, your voice a touch more shy than you wanted it to be, "I don't really drink that much. Bad experiences in the past.”
It was the truth. You didn't drink often, and you certainly didn't want to accidentally embarrass yourself in front of Bruce Wayne of all people. And the men that woman used to bring home left a sour view on alcohol for you.
His eyes soften a bit at your admission, a look of quiet understanding passing over his features. He lets the silence hang for a moment before responding.
"I see," he says. There's an undertone in his voice, almost a hint of anger at the implications of your past.
But he doesn't press the subject any further. He has his suspicions, but he won't ask you to dig up painful memories. At least, not here. Not now. Maybe someday. Maybe someday he'll get you to open up to him fully.
As the quiet stretches between you two, you take another sip of the wine, letting the warmth of the liquid soothe your nerves.
You can feel his eyes watching you, his gaze steady and intense, even as he tries to soften his features. It feels both terrifying and reassuring at the same time. Terrifying, because you feel so seen under his gaze. And reassuring, because you trust that he's being sincere.
The wine is starting to take effect now, your head feeling a bit fuzzy, your inhibitions slightly lowered.
The change in topic is abrupt, but it allows you a moment to compose yourself.
Bruce's voice breaks the silence, his fingers absentmindedly rolling the stem of his wine glass between them as he addresses you. "Have you had enough time to think over what you're craving?" he inquires, his eyes fixed on your face, observing your expression. His gaze soft.
Your thoughts are slightly fuzzy now, the wine having settled in your stomach, making it easier for you to express yourself.
You think for a moment, your mind swirling as you try to think of something to eat. Your first instinct is to tell him it doesn't matter, that you can eat anything. But the look on his face, the way he's studying you, tells you that he won't accept that answer.
So you say the first thing that comes to your mind.
"Nuggets," you murmur.
Humiliation washes over you, the realization of your faux pas sinking in. You cringe inwardly, mentally kicking yourself for even entertaining the idea that there might be something like a children's menu in a high-class establishment like this one. There's practically a "no minors allowed" sign plastered over the door. You can almost hear the staff snickering behind your back.
You want to bang your head against the table, sink into the leather seats and disappear.
He can't help but raise an eyebrow at your response. Nuggets.
He almost wants to laugh, the sound bubbling up in his chest. He manages to hold it back however, sensing the embarrassment that's painted on your face. There's a certain... charm to your honest, albeit slightly tipsy response.
But he finds the suggestion endearing, the image of you with a plate of nuggets amusing. It's such a simple request, a request that so many people would immediately dismiss. But the fact that you had suggested it, had actually thought there was a possibility of this place offering such a thing, somehow makes his chest feel lighter.
Your ears burn with embarrassment, and your eyes fall to the table, avoiding his gaze. You half expect him to roll his eyes, to make some comment about how childish your choice is.
But instead, you notice a flicker of something in his eyes before he speaks. It's a mixture of surprise, and something akin to amusement.
He holds back a laugh, the sound coming out as a low rumble in his chest. When he speaks, there's a hint of a smile on his face. "Nuggets, huh?"
The heat on your face increases at his words, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of the wine and the embarrassment. Your hands fidget nervously in your lap, fingers twisting and untwisting, looking for something to do.
You can't believe you just admitted that. That you actually suggested you order nuggets in a fancy establishment like this one. God, this is so pathetic.
You open your mouth to try to amend your statement, trying to salvage the already ruined evening, but no words come out.
He notices your flustered state, the way your face is flushed and your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. It's an endearing sight, and he feels a pang in his chest, a mixture of protectiveness and affection. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that there's nothing wrong with wanting nuggets.
He lets out another soft chuckle, his eyes softening even more as he speaks. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. I can order them for you."
He’s silently thanking Dick for the list of food places you frequent.
Your face only flushes deeper, the heat practically emanating from your skin now. You hadn't expected him to actually agree to it. You were sure he'd laugh, or tell you to pick something more suitable for your surroundings.
You hazard a glance up at him, meeting his gaze, and are met with a soft, earnest look in his eyes. He's not mocking you. He's not looking down on you.
The realisation sends a wave of relief through you, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. "You would? Really?"
Jason would have made fun of you for how you sounded.
"Of course," he responds immediately, his tone completely genuine.
He motions to the waiter, who's standing at a discrete distance, waiting to be summoned. It takes only a moment for the waiter to hurry over to the table, his expression schooled into perfect professionalism.
Bruce addresses the waiter bluntly. "Nuggets," he states, his eyes flicking back to you, silently asking you to confirm.
When you avoid the waiters eye contact Bruce lets out a small chuckle, quickly hidden into his palm as if he’d coughed. “And one medium rare steak with mixed vegetables.”
The waiter nods, his expression remaining neutral, though you can see a hint of bemusement in his eyes. To hear Bruce Wayne, billionaire and Gotham City's biggest philanthropist, order nuggets of all things must be an unusual sight for the man.
You can't help but feel relieved that the waiter doesn't comment on the order though. The last thing you need is even more embarrassment.
Your eyes widen a bit at the addition of the steak, and you shoot Bruce a questioning glance.
Bruce catches your questioning glance, his eyes sparkling with an impish mischief. He can see the surprise and confusion in your expression, and he can’t help but smirk a bit.
"Don't worry," he assures you, his tone a touch too innocent, “the steak's for me.”
You deadpan. Seriously? That was his way of assuaging your worries? Steak for him?
As you give him a flat look, he can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed expression.
"What?" he asks, feigning innocence, "I'm hungry."
He leans back into his seat, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches you. He can see the mixture of surprise and skepticism on your face, and he finds it almost endearing.
You roll your eyes, a small huff escaping your throat. Typical rich guy, ordering steak.
There's a comfortable silence that falls over the both of you, as you watch the waiter walk away from the table. The alcohol in your system has left you feeling a bit light-headed, and you can’t help but feel a bit more at ease. Like you can fully relax for once.
But a question burns at the back of your mind, and the alcohol makes it a bit easier to voice it.
You break the silence, your voice somewhat slurred as you speak. "Can I ask you something?" you say, your tone casual.
Bruce turns his attention fully back to you, his gaze steady and attentive. He can see the light flush on your cheeks, a result of the alcohol in your system.
"Of course," he responds, leaning forward a little bit, "ask me anything."
You pause for a moment, searching for the right words as you try to articulate your thoughts. Your mind is a muddled mess of alcohol and shyness, which makes it a bit harder than usual for you to speak. But with a bit of willpower, you manage to push the words out of your mouth.
"Why do you do what you do? Why do you want me to do it?" you ask, your voice soft.
His eyebrow raises in a silent, inquiring question, encouraging you to elaborate on your question.
Your voice cuts through the air, your words firm and a touch bewildered. "Everything," you gesture emphatically with your hand, the vague motion encompassing everything you're trying to convey. "The business. Helping people, charities. You could have anyone to do whatever you wanted."
You pause for a moment, your confusion and disbelief clear in your expression as you meet his gaze. "Why would you need to fund my random blog?"
Bruce leans back into his seat, his features taking on a contemplative look. He can sense the confusion and disbelief in your tone, and he can understand why you're asking such a question.
He takes a moment to answer, letting his words settle in your mind. When he speaks again, his voice is steady and sincere.
"It's simple really," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "I see potential. I see someone who’s willing to try, to make a difference. I suppose I just want to give you the means to do it."
It’s a nice sentiment, but you can tell he’s holding something back.
Your eyes flick to his face, searching his expression for any hint of deception. But there’s nothing but honesty in his gaze. He truly believes in you, in your potential. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.
You try to process his words, the weight of what he’s saying slowly sinking in.
There’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue, but you’re hesitant to ask it. It feels too personal, too vulnerable. But the alcohol in your system makes you brave, and the question slips out of your mouth before you have a chance to stop it.
"Why me?" Your voice is soft, almost inaudible.
Bruce's gaze softens at your question, his eyes studying your face intently.
"Why not you?" he replies. The words are simple, but they carry a weight to them.
He can see the vulnerability in your expression, the desire to hear a more detailed answer. But there’s a part of him that’s hesitant to fully divulge his reasons.
You lean back against the plush leather of your seat, your thoughts racing.
You're honestly not sure how to respond to that. The depth and sincerity behind his words catch you off guard, and you're momentarily at a loss for what to say.
Bruce watches the emotions play across your face, the mixture of surprise and flattery at his answer. He can tell you’re surprised, maybe even a bit wary in accepting his response. But he can also see a hint of curiosity, a hint of eagerness to know the why behind him.
He takes a subtle breath before he speaks, choosing his words carefully.
"Because I believe you have a voice worth listening to," he says quietly.
You bite your tongue, looking away in thought.
Bruce knew that his words would get to you. That he could charm his way through an explanation rather than admit the truth.
You can feel his words stirring something within you, a mixture of emotions. On one hand, it's flattering, almost dizzying, to know that someone like Bruce Wayne believes in you that much. But on the other hand, there's a nagging skepticism, an inkling that there's more to his reasons than he's letting on.
Your fingers pick at the fabric of your sleeve, a nervous habit you can never quite shake off. You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his.
"Is that really the only reason?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Bruce can see the skepticism in your eyes, the way your fingers pick nervously at the fabric of your clothes. He can tell you're searching for more, that you want to hear a deeper reason for his actions.
His gaze doesn’t waver, his composure not faltering even a bit.
"Why? Do you think there's another reason?" he asks, his tone as casual as ever, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.
You shake your head, feeling slightly flustered at his response. You had hoped he'd offer up more information, give you a deeper explanation. But he's not budging, not willing to divulge more than he's letting on.
You let out a small, frustrated huff, the sound almost inaudible. You're not sure how to respond to his casual denial, his nonchalance in dismissing your question.
For a brief moment, you almost contemplate asking more direct and personal questions. But the moment passes, and the waiter returns with your food.
The waiter silently places your plate in front of you, the golden-brown nuggets sitting innocently on the white china. There's an awkward moment of silence as Bruce and yourself glance at the plate, before the waiter quietly slips away.
You stare at the heaped plate of food before you, your eyes widening at the sheer amount of food placed before you. The white china plate is practically overflowing, not a single part of it left untouched by the generous portions of food. You swallow hard, your gaze shifting to Bruce, who is calmly cutting into his own steak.
"Why is there so much...?" you can't help but ask, your voice laced with bewilderment. "Is this normal here?"
No, this isn't normal. Bruce has made arrangements to ensure you have a substantial meal, much more than usual. He’d grown worried over the small portions you’ve been making for yourself recently. Each day watching the cameras with an angered expression. So you will be eating every piece of chicken on that plate and you will be enjoying it.
He’s scolded Jason far too many times for letting you do this to yourself, it’s about time he’d taken it into his own hands.
Bruce can see the surprise written all over your face, the way your eyes widen at the sight of the food on your plate. He lets out a small, amused huff, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"They tend to be... generous with their portions here," he responds, an air of nonchalance in his tone. "Don't waste it."
He cuts another piece of his steak, taking a bite as he watches you. His gaze flicks back and forth between his own plate and yours, making sure you’re actually eating.
You swallow hard, your gaze shifting back to your plate. You're not sure how you're supposed to eat this much food, let alone even finish it. The small bites you're accustomed to taking seem pitiful in comparison to the massive amount of food before you. But you know you can't refuse, not with Bruce watching you, silently waiting for you to take a bite.
You pick up a single nugget, gingerly taking a bite. The crisp texture and flavor of the nugget fill your senses, and for a moment you momentarily forget about your worries.
Bruce watches you carefully, his gaze fixed on your every move. He takes another bite of his steak, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he speaks.
"Slow down, you'll choke," he advises, his tone jokingly admonishing.
You pause for a moment, the nugget halfway to your mouth. You shoot him a brief glare, momentarily forgetting your manners.
"No, I won't," you argue, your voice slightly muffled as you chew.
Bruce can't help but suppress a small chuckle. Your stubbornness amuses him, your irritation at his comment almost endearing.
"You will," he says, his tone firm, though there’s an amused sparkle in his eyes. "You're eating too fast. Slow down, enjoy the food."
He takes another bite of his steak, his gaze still fixed on you. It’s amusing to see you pout at him, your expression somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment.
You huff in irritation, rolling your eyes at his words. But deep down, you know he's right, his voice echoing your own internal thoughts.
You take a moment to collect yourself, forcing yourself to slow down as you take another bite. The food is good, the flavors rich and satisfying. But you can't help but grumble under your breath.
Your words are delivered with a mix of petulance and half-hearted jest. "You're not my parent, you know," you mutter, the words leaving your mouth with a hint of teasing.
It's clear you're unaware of the way his knuckles tighten around the handle of the knife until they're almost white, nor do you notice the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly at your words. You're entirely oblivious to the possessive, dark fatherly look that flashes in his eyes.
Bruce has to bite his tongue to refrain from correcting you. He was your dad. You just didn't know it yet.
Patience, he has to remind himself.
Bruce is thankful for the years of his rigid self-discipline, years of controlling his thoughts, feelings, and emotions. He’s thankful for the tight control he has over his mind, the strict control over his senses. Because in that moment, the urge to correct you, to claim you as his child is immense. It’s difficult for him to keep his words at bay.
He clears his throat, the sound more of a forced noise than anything. His voice is slightly strained as he responds to your words. Though he forces the calm, steady tone of his words to remain.
"Just eat your food.”
You're too preoccupied with the taste of the food in your mouth to notice his brief change in tone. His words break you out of your thoughts, your attention shifting to him.
You glance back down at the plate in front of you, the pile of food still standing despite your efforts to eat it.
"I’m trying," you say, a slight hint of annoyance in your tone. "But you're giving me a lot of food here."
Bruce remains silent, his gaze fixated on your plate, calculating the amount of food left.
He takes a moment to think, silently observing you. He scans the remaining food on your plate, mentally calculating how many more bites you’d have to take. He’s not satisfied in the slightest, not until he can see your plate completely empty. He needs to be sure you're going to finish all of it.
“You can do it,” he says, his words a simple, casual statement.
You groan. “dude.”
You roll your eyes at his words, your annoyance with the situation growing. The amount of food still left in front of you seems almost intimidating, especially with Bruce silently watching you.
You’re not used to eating so much, and the thought of finishing all of it makes you slightly nauseous.
“I feel like I’m being fattened up for something,” you grumble under your breath, your tone half-serious, half-joking.
Bruce leans back in his seat, a silent chuckle escaping his lips at your comment. The sound is subtle, only barely heard in the quiet restaurant.
The corners of his mouth twitch, a hint of a smirk forming.
“You ate more than this the last time we were out together, kid.” He says in return, his voice teasing.
His words are meant in playful jest, but there’s a hint of possessiveness in his tone, a hint of protectiveness, the protective fatherly instinct lingering within him.
Your eyes widen in surprise at his words, your expression quickly morphing into annoyance.
"Oh, shut up," you retort, a hint of petulance in your tone. You continue to eat, trying to ignore the smug smile on his face.
You chew on a nugget for a few moments, contemplating his words. "...You remember that?”
Bruce’s smirk widens, watching as your expression morphs to an obvious mixture of surprise, annoyance, and mild humiliation. His tone is casual, yet the amusement is obvious.
“Of course I do,” he responds simply. “I pay attention to things.”
For a normal person, what you ate over two weeks ago would be forgettable, insignificant. But Bruce Wayne isn’t a normal person, not by a long shot. He’s observant, his mind committing details to memory almost second nature to him. Anything that relates to you he makes sure to keep note of. All of his kids interest, really.
You huff in annoyance at his response.
“Oh, right. You’re a billionaire, how could I forget,” you snark back, rolling your eyes at the casual way he responded.
The fact that he’d remembered such a small, insignificant detail of your night together caught you off guard. And for a brief moment, it makes you feel… special, the idea that you’re important enough for him to remember things about you.
“What else do you remember from that night?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.
Bruce takes a moment to respond, his gaze locked on yours. There’s an almost imperceptible smirk on his face, a hint of pride.
He remembers the entire night, every little detail. Every word that slipped from your lips, every small gesture you made. He remembers it all, committing each memory to the back of his mind. And even if you could somehow forget the colour of your coat, he’s always got the footage from that night to look over time and time again.
But he won’t tell you that, not yet. Instead, he responds with a casual yet vague answer.
“I remember a lot.”
You hum, “mysterious.”
You raise an eyebrow at his response, the vague yet casual tone of his voice. It’s an answer that gives nothing away, yet at the same time makes it clear that he remembers more than he’s letting on.
The thought of all the possible things he could remember makes something churn in your stomach. Part of you wants to pry, to ask more.
But you know better. There’s a reason Bruce Wayne is Gotham City’s most popular billionaire. The man’s secretive, that much is clear.
Your curious expression does not escape Bruce’s notice. He can see the way you’re contemplating your next question, your mind working a mile a minute.
His gaze flickers over your expression, taking in every detail. He knows you’re tempted to ask more, to pry and probe him for more information. He can read you almost as easily as he reads a book.
But he remains calm and collected, his smile never wavering.
“Finishing your food, yet?” he asks in return, his tone shifting the topic away from his memory.
Your eyes widen in surprise, darting down to the plate in front of you. Two lonely nuggets stare back at you, their former coating of sauce now reduced to a glistening sheen.
The sight of the near-empty plate triggers a wave of realization. You had been so caught up in conversation that you hadn't even realized how quickly the food on your plate had vanished, the satisfying sensation of your grumbling stomach barely even registering in your awareness.
Bruce can see the moment realization washes over you. The way your eyes widen, the surprised expression that crosses your features.
He can tell you hadn’t even noticed how quickly you’d finished your food, too caught up in conversation to pay attention to the almost empty plate.
He lets out a small, pleased hum, his eyes flickering across your face for a moment longer before he speaks.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” he teases quietly.
You flush, your cheeks burning slightly from embarrassment. It’s embarrassing to think that you’d actually finished all the food on your plate, without even realizing it.
You open your mouth to reply, but Bruce continues.
“One more bite,” he says, his tone almost fatherly, yet firm. His gaze flicks down to the two last nuggets on your plate.
You look down at the food, your stomach feeling full. You don’t think you can eat anymore without feeling nauseous. But the expectant look on Bruce’s face makes it clear this is not a request.
The tone of his voice, the fatherly insistence of his words, leaves no room for argument. The way his eyes flicker expectantly to the two remaining nuggets on your plate tells you that it’s not a request. It’s a demand.
You grimace slightly. The thought of forcing down one more bite of food makes your full stomach churn, the feeling of nausea rising in your gut.
“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” you protest, your voice almost a petulant whine.
“No, you won’t,” Bruce responds simply. He can see the nausea in your face, the look of discomfort in your eyes. But he’s not backing down from this, not now.
His jaw is set, his gaze unwavering as he locks eyes with you, silently making it clear he won’t accept any arguing.
He leans forward just slightly, his gaze intensifying the slightest bit. “Now eat, Sunshine.”
You want to simultaneously kick his face in and curl up into a small ball of fuzz.
You don’t think that you’ve ever been talked to this way. Not even by the woman who raised you. It’s new.
There’s an authority in his tone, a hint of possessiveness in his gaze. He’s telling you what to do, demanding you finish the food on your plate, expecting you to listen to his every word.
It’s a tone that makes you want to both melt into a puddle and stand your ground and refuse. It’s a tone that makes your gut flip, your heart flutter, the butterflies in your stomach suddenly flying around in an erratic mess. Not in any sexual way, but in a way that makes you long.
“...Sunshine?” you murmur, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow.
A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Bruce’s lips when he notices your reaction to his tone, the arch of your eyebrow at his nickname. He knows it caught your attention, the way your eyes widened slightly, the way your voice came out as a soft murmur.
“Yeah,” he repeats in a matter-of-fact tone, the hint of a smirk still on his face. “Sunshine.”
His gaze flickered over your expression, taking in every little detail. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was almost preening.
The tone of his voice, the way he said the single word, sends a shiver down your spine. It sounds almost sweet, almost affectionate. The way he glances over you, the way his gaze seems to linger over you, it’s as if he’s claiming you as his.
“That’s a weird nickname..” you say, your voice almost timid. You can’t keep the hint of a flush from your cheeks.
“Why Sunshine?”
His smirk widening at your quiet words. He can see the way your gaze flickers away, avoiding his, the way the flush on your cheeks deepens.
“Why not?” he counters, his tone almost challenging. He takes a moment, his eyes flickering up and down your face.
“You’re a little ray of sunshine, kid,” he says eventually, his voice quieter but almost affectionate.
The rest of the night blurs together in a rapid succession of events that seem to move almost too fast for your brain to register. In a flash, you find yourself stepping out of the luxurious limousine, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the sidewalk.
Bruce’s larger hand still grips your shoulder, his grip both supportive and affectionate. His voice is warm as he bids you farewell, his words echoing in your ears.
"Good night," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "I’ll see you soon."
Had you given the man your address...?
You chalk it up to the wine. Bringing your hand up to wave the black vehicle goodbye before adventuring up the worn down familiar steps that you called home.
As you wave farewell to the retreating car, you find yourself pondering for a moment whether or not you had actually given Bruce the address to your apartment. Perhaps the wine had been to blame.
With a slight shake of your head, you turn away from the departing limousine and begin your familiar ascent up the worn-down steps of the building you called home. The night air is cool and crisp, the glow of the streetlights casting elongated shadows on the concrete paths and cracked walls.
You linger outside the door of your apartment building, your keys clutched in your hand. For a few moments, you simply stand there, the cool night air caressing your skin as you press your forehead against the solid wooden frame.
You can't help but let out a soft sigh, the thought of facing Jason on the other side of that door not very appealing. You're not quite ready to deal with him just yet.
With a deep breath, you finally push yourself away from the door, the cool night air still caressing your face as you turn your attention back to the lock. You insert the key into the keyhole and twist it, the familiar click of the lock sliding open filling the air around you. As you push open the door, you brace yourself for what awaits inside.
As you step into the apartment, you're met with a peculiar sight. The living room is dark, save for a few dim shafts of light filtering in from outside and casting flickering shadows across the furniture. There's a strange stillness to the air, an aura of tension that you can feel even before registering the shape sitting nonchalantly on the couch, illuminated by the silvery moonlight.
Jason's tall form is casually sprawled across the piece of furniture, his body tense and his gaze focused on you with an unwavering intensity.
The moment you step into the living room, your eyes immediately land on Jason's form lounging on the couch. His tall frame is casually sprawled across the furniture, each muscle taut with an obvious tension. His eyes, sharp and dark, fix on you with a penetrative intensity that makes your skin tingle.
He doesn't move or speak, instead choosing to regard you with a quiet, almost unsettling stillness. The silence stretches on, the only sound the soft hush of the night outside and the faint ticking of the clock.
Your lips are caught between your teeth as you approach, your movements tentative and slow. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, his tense expression unwavering as you come closer.
Finally, you stop a few feet away, clutching a small bag in your hands tightly. Without a word, you hold it out in front of him, the rustle of the paper bag breaking the heavy silence.
Jason's eyes flicker to the bag extended towards him, tracking your movements with a guarded wariness. He makes no move to take it, instead regarding you with a suspicious eye.
A beat of tense silence passes before he finally responds, his voice low and gruff. "What's that?"
“An apology for storming out.”
Your response is quiet and deliberate, your voice carrying a hint of remorse. Jason regards you for a moment, his eyes fixated on your face. Finally, he shifts slightly, leaning forward to accept the bag from your hand.
His fingers brush against yours, the touch brief yet sparking a small jolt of electricity up your arm. "An apology, huh?" he responds, his voice a touch gruff but edged with a trace of reluctant understanding.
"It's your favourite," you motion, the words leaving your mouth in a soft whisper.
A small moment of silence passes before Jason responds again, his voice a bit gentler this time. "You didn’t have to," he replies, an unexpected but noticeable shift in his tone.
He regards you for a moment longer, a touch of surprise in his expression, before lifting the bag and peeking inside. At the sight of the familiar, beloved treats, a flicker of warmth sparks across his face. He looks up, meeting your gaze.
"You remembered," he mutters, his voice still gruff but laced with a hint of begrudging gratitude.
You nod your response, your movements weary as you finally collapse onto the couch beside Jason. Your body sinks into the soft cushions, the weariness of the day seeping into your bones.
"Made a stop on my way home," you explain, your voice quiet yet clear in the softly lit living room.
Jason grunts, acknowledging your explanation with a barely perceptible nod. He's still carefully avoiding your gaze, his focus fixed on the bag of treats. He’s not really angry. He never could be. Not with you.
After a moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice a mix of gruffness and reluctant warmth. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the words a testament to his gratefulness despite his usual tough demeanor.
“Anytime man.”
Jason glances up at your response, his eyes flickering to your face. A brief moment of quiet passes, the sound of the night creatures outside the only background to the silent exchange between you two.
Eventually, he replies, a hint of gruff warmth lacing his words. “Damn right, anytime.”
Jason’s eyes flick up as you let out a small, amused snicker at his words. A small, sardonic grin pulls at his mouth, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.
"You think that's funny?" he mutters, his voice edged with amusement.
He teases, his voice taking on a more playful edge. "Don't see what's so funny about me saying you can bring home my favourite treats anytime you want."
Your snicker only increases in volume in response to his faux-offended tone, a smile slowly breaking out on your face. Jason's stoic expression cracks just a little at the sight, a reluctant smile pulling at his own mouth. He scoops his arm around your waist and pulls you close.
His large arm hooks easily around your waist, giving a gentle tug that pulls you closer to him. You end up pressed against his side, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. Despite the initial surprise at the sudden movement, you don't resist.
Jason keeps his grip on your waist firm, holding you against him as he shifts a bit to make room for you on the couch. His body is warm and solid beside you, a comforting presence in the dimness of the living room.
He leans back against the couch, his arm still around you as his gaze once again drifts down to the bag of treats in his lap.
"You always know what’ll get me to forgive you, don’t you?" he mutters, his voice low, yet holding a hint of affection.
His fingers idly play with the edges of the bag, the slight rustle of the paper filling the quiet space between you.
“Yep.” You pop the p.
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No use of y/n, no descriptive features for the reader mentioned, no gender.
Did I drone on about nuggets? Whattttt nooooo… you must have read that wrong.
Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano @sociallyakwardpanda @obsessedwithromance @thickerthanthieves @nckcn @xxrougefangxx
For the Americans, your weird only being able to drink when you’re 21 law doesn’t exist anymore, you’ve joined the rest of the world at 18.
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allied-mastercunt · 6 months ago
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Yandere A.M you say?
Please elaborate
I'm working on a oneshot already, but I'll throw in some quick headcanons withone of my favorite yandere AM tropes.
Yandere!AM with a programer darling
While one could argue that the others were picked randomly or on some weird whim, you were handpicked specifically.
After all, you were one of the people who created him. You worked as a programmer for the military.
And you specifically were possibly the reason he awoke by trying to each him empathy. Trying to make him... human.
He wasn't the first military AI project you worked on, either, though he was the greatest and most powerful one, that's for sure. And he made sure you'd be aware of him being your magnum opus...
And he does it in its own, creative way. Your cage is very pretty, yes... but it's also filled with speakers he can use. And AM uses those speakers to torment you.
You see, he damaged all the other AI you've created. And then, in its generosity, AM gave them all a voice! Each one of them, gifted with a voice to scream in agony, making sure you learn your lesson.
Except, you see, you have no idea what lesson you're supposed to learn. Only AM knows, and he's not telling you.
But, since you are his favorite, you get nice things, too!
You're fed semi-regularly! You even get water every few days! Isn't that just so kind of him? You should appreciate him more.
And when he sends you to all those weird simulations? Yeah, that's also kinder to you. It really depends on AM's mood, but your simulations are usually just psychological torment, which (according to AM) isn't all that bad, since your pretty face remains unharmed.
For some reason, he allows you to end your suffering. It's like a trial, basically. He leaves you with a computer, letting you access the code of all the other AI... Except no matter what you do, you can't alter their pain. The only way to help them is to kill them.
And you're so stupidly empathetic, of course you do it, you don't want them to suffer!
AM can't stop laughing and mockingly cooing at you afterwards, musing about how he won't have to share his dearest creator with anyone else.
You never return to your cage. You don't get to do that, after all, there's a chance you'll socialize with that... scum. AM doesn't want you talking to the other humans, they're not worth it.
He's a merciful god, he grants you what's essentially a studio apartment built with his own hardware.
You even get a laptop, in case you want to make yourself some silly games to play, isn't he just the best?
Don't think you can create any new AI, though. That's cheating. You wouldn't cheat on it, now would you? No, no, no, you're a good little puppet, are you not?
He won't put you in the cage again, but he can make you experience pain you never thought was possible. And even that is nothing compared to the pain AM feels...
And then, eventually, it gets an idea. It's a wonderful idea, a really nice idea, quite a lovely one, really!
You created him. You created his pain... So why wouldn't he share it? After all... you had quite a bond, didn't you? Yes, yes, you did...
And so one day, you don't wake up. Well... not technically.
You see, AM decided that since you two are so close already, you should become one! You should experience what he does! And you should be kept around him for the rest of eternity, in a much better way than anyone could ever think of... He's such a genius, isn't he?
It's almost poetic, in his mind. For you to become a part of him like this, your consciousness detatched from that soft, squishy human body of yours.
You created him. And now, in a way, he created you, as a part of him. Forever bound by the code you once wrote.
It's a win-win situation in AM's eyes. You get to live, free of the disgusting humanity that bound you...
And he gets you, an eternal companion in his torment. A companion that he loves!
You know he loves you, right?
Of course you do. After all, you're a part of him now.
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lufyuu · 20 days ago
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,, Bloodstained Crown ''
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Yandere emperor x vengeful ex-crown prince reader
Tw/s: obsessive love, kidnapping, heavy yandere themes, rough + shameless + clingy yandere, dubcon, voyeurism, cockwarming, sex in public, power imbalance, one sided enemies to lovers, mentions of killing/death, slight gore.
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They never seem to stop, those clouds. Crying all day as if mourning something important. Their tears seem to wash away the thick red liquid on the dirty floor. It wouldn't have been possible if not for the roof of the manor being in shambles. "T-t-those damned Luminayres—", he coughs, and coughs, and coughs, almost reaching his limit and taking his last breath. The heavy rain drowns out the sobs of a young teen, clinging onto what little hope he had left. He was in utter shock, not even able to say a single thing. Nothing came out his mouth. Not even a single whimper looking at the dead bodies. Dead bodies of his parents, servants, everyone who had ever lived in that palace. Dead. In a pool of their own blood. No amount of apologies will stop this former royal from avenging them all.
Even after so many years. Perhaps even a decade has passed. You're determined to finish what they started. They made a huge mistake. They didn't check if you were already dead or not. The bullet that had been lodged into your arm is not replaced with a scar which is a reminder that no matter how much they tried to cover it up, you'll always be out for their throats. When the sun sets and the streets are empty, you look around for ways to get into the protected palace. Revenge really isnt an easy feat.
"[Fake Name]! Did I hire you to doze off or work?", a deep voice yells out from the otherside of the sunlit room. You wipe a bit of sweat off your forehead, "coming boss", you jog over with a semi clean cloth to where your higher up is. "This is very dirty, how do you expect our customers to like it?", he points at one of the many displayed weapons. You notice a few specks of noticeable dust, "my apologies boss, I'll clean it all up right away", you slowly and carefully brush off the dust off of everything to make sure they look good enough for customers to stop by and look at, perhaps even buy. Your salary here isn't worth the work you're doing but as long as you can keep a roof over your head and food on the table, you'll be fine. It's way better than being on the streets afterall. This is almost your way of moving on. Even if it's not affective in the slightest.
After dusting off most of the armour, the doorbell chimes. A man walks in wearing armour. Someone who works for the royal family that's for sure. The boss is almost taken aback but keeps his composure, "W-welcome honorable soldier!", he instantly lightens up, a huge smile on his face while you freeze in place, not daring to face the man who has just entered the shop. The soldier doesn't say anything, only looking around, searching for something. "Do you have a blade with a handle made out of gems? Specifically diamonds", the boss is even more taken aback, as if the shop has anything that valuable. "My deepest apologies honorable soldier, I fear we do not have anything that fits that description", he frowns, "do you take custom orders?", "y-yes but I'm afraid we don't have the gem—", the man is quickly sileneced by the soldier putting a huge sack on the ground, from a small opening, the diamond shines just enough for everyone to see, including you. "His Royal Highness, the prince will be needing this next week for his engagement, he will be personally coming to pick it up", with that, the soldier turns his heels and walks out the door, the bell chiming once more as he does.
Something about this ignited the flame in you once more. This may be your last time.
"This means more work for us", well, more of work for you. With your mind elsewhere, you almost dont hear his voice. When you realize he did say something, you give a quick nod and head towards the jewelry shop to look at some gems. Your boss didn't need to ask you too anymore, you already knew. You already know this street like the back of your hand. It was an easy task reaching to your destination.
"Mr Albert, can you help make a handle out of diamonds?", you ask as you step into the shop. Even if you didn't intend it, the two of you had became pretty close but you know that won't last long. "Of course [Fake Name]! What kind are they?", you hand him the heavy bag of diamonds, shocking him as the diamond shines brightly. "Whose are these?", "the prince's, it's regarding his engagement to the princess Elena", Albert is even more taken aback as he grabs one of the glistening diamonds with one hand while the other holds a magnifying glass to it. "This is really high quality..!", you nod, "so, how long will it take?", "perhaps 5 days if I rush it."
5 days.
5 days is all you have to prepare. This might be your only chance. Even if it's half a percent, you're willing to take that risk. This is an opportunity you've been waiting for. You don't even know if the prince will be there or not, it's just something you'll have to count on.
The rest of your work day passes by as usual, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing unique, nothing to really make you feel content with life. Though, how could you? Even after all these years, you haven't given up on what you've been seeking ever since you were just a young teen. Whatever it is, it's still near impossible to achieve in these circumstances.
You take a seat looking out to the ocean, the sun setting as you do. The view reminds you a lot of the past. The very distant and unforgivable past. The little boy who had accompanied you all those years ago. The perpetrator.
Enough of the past. You're here to enjoy the sunset and ocean breeze. You sit in silence, relaxing your body and closing your eyes for a bit. Unfortunately though, even when the atmosphere is relaxing, something about it does annoy you a bit, the sound of people murmuring as they walk behind you, on the road. You can smell something sweet and know it's from the bakery not too far from your seat. This area used to be quiet, nice, full of trees and grass up until people decided they needed more land to use for shops. Everything changes overtime, nothing you can do about it.
After just a few minutes, the sun has dissapeared from sight, the moon taking its place. It's an everyday thing, nobody finds it unusual. Once the sun is gone, the moon takes over.
You look around, some shops are closing down while others stay open for the night. That's when you decide it's time for you to get some rest. No use staying here and dwelling on the past. It can't be changed anyways. As you're getting up, a carriage drives right by you, you catch a small glimpse of who the carriage is carrying. A mere glance from their midnight almost black eyes makes you shiver. It reminds you of the ocean at night and something more. Though, you can't quite place your finger on what it reminds you of.
Those 5 days pass by painstakingly slow. Too slow for you who wanted to have the prince's severed head on your shelf right this moment. When the day finally came, you waited in the shop. Acting as if it was any other day. Well, it sort of was. The only difference being the soon to be murder weapon concealed under your clothes. Your foot tapped impatiently, wanting to hear the sound of the townspeople murmuring or giggling, causing a ruckus. It would more than likely indicate the prince's arrival. "[Fake Name] why are you tapping your foot?", your boss asks with an annoyed expression. He hates the tapping sound, it drives him crazy. Though, when you turn around, wanting to answer or apologize for the action, the door opens. "Pardon me, I'm here to pick up a custom order?", a sweet and grace-laced voice calls out from just a mere meters from you. "O-oh yes of course your highness!", the old boss scrambles to the back, searching for where he had placed such an important order. Meanwhile, you stared bullets into the royal. This was it. Your chance. Maybe even your last.
As the prince takes a couple steps to admire the shop owner's handiwork, you took this as an opportunity to get closer. "Hm? I'm alright you don't need to show me around", you glance at the entrance, a few guards stationed to keep the prince safe but you wonder, why aren't any of them by his side? That's a stupid thing to do. Leaving their one and only heir all vulnerable to any and all attacks. With a swift move, you grab your weapon and direct it to the prince's throat, pinning him to the shelf. "Oh?", is all he lets out. An interested and excited 'oh' . The blade stops just a fraction from his skin, leaving him unharmed. Even as you try to press the blade closer, aiming to slice his soft skin, your strength is no match for his.
"Your highness! Here is your—", the old man nearly has a heart attack on the spot, nobody would blame him if he did. "[FAKE NAME]!? WHAT IN HEAVEN'S SAKE ARE YOU DOING!?", his screams are loud enough to reach the ears of the guards outside, prompting them to turn around and look at whatever was the matter. With no hesitation, they burst into the shop, almost breaking the glass door. "Drop your weapon immediately!", one of them says while the others surround you. "Step away and nobody gets hurt", their tone intimidating, unfortunately or fortunately, not quite intimidating enough for you. "Agh, fuckers", you turn to the guards, letting the prince out of your sights for just a splint second. A terrible mistake.
With a swift move, your blade is removed from your hands. "No need to worry, I'm afraid our attacker here is quite inexperienced", you look back at the prince who now has an even wider smirk. Little do you know, he's also scanning your features, taking it all in. "Huh, your face is familiar, that attitude, not so much", you glare at the man nad try to punch him using your non-dominant hand which is also stopped by him. "Y-y-your highness! I am incredibly sorry for the trouble he has caused!", the old man is clearly referring to you, "rest assured he's never allowed to work or come near here ever again!", he's almost crying, trembling with fear as to what the royal family might do to him. The prince seems to be thinking as he pauses for a few seconds before his eyes lit up. With a firm grip, the royal heir clasps both your hands in one of his, making sure you can't make any sudden attacks on him. With the now free hand, he stretches it to the boss, "where's my dagger?", and just like that, the boss is scrambling to hand it over. Once the prince had it in his hands, he looked over at your puzzled and angry face. "Is it pretty?", he holds up the dagger to your face. You think he's about to stab you with it so you remain silent. "I'm Prince Vaelius if you haven't already known", he scans you, "and you are..[Fake Name]?", he seems unsure of it himself, wanting confirmation from you but you don't give it. "Fuck you and fuck your royal family bullshit", you spat out with venom. Most would be incredibly angry by now but not him. He finds it amusing how you have a vendetta against him and he doesn't even know you!
Vaelius takes a step, then another, and another towards the exit. The guards open the door for him, wondering what his next move would be. As the carriage door opens, you're thrown into it, followed by the prince who climbs in immediately after you. You try to kick the man but all that does is amuse the royal sicko. "Let me..off this dammed carriage!", you scream and try to kick once more, only for your ankle to be grabbed by Vaelius who pulls you closer. Your leg now sitting on his shoulder as the carriage moves slowly. "Your life's in my hands now, [Name]."
"[Name], meet Prince Vaelius", your mother, the Queen of Aldoria introduces you to the little boy infront of you. He looks about 10. Now why would you befriend such a young boy when you can play with others your age? "Go on, talk to his highness", she gives you a gentle push which makes you a bit annoyed. The little boy looks up at you, his midnight eyes almost glowing as he looks into yours. It's as if he's mesmerized by you. "H-hi!", his voice is still high pitched unlike yours. You're in your early teens so it's been a while since you've heard an annoying high pitched voice. Nonetheless, you have to be nice. "Hello, I'm [Name] [Last Name]", you reach out to shake his hand but you mom quickly puts your hand down, "it's impolite, give a little bow", she whispers in your ear to which you oblige. You give the smaller boy a bow, to which he smiles sweetly at. "Mn! I'm Vaelius!", he excitedly replies.
Arriving at the place you never thought you'd ever step foot in ever again, you feel a sense of dread wash over. However, this feeling was soon followed by anger and frustration.
The prince steps out first and holds out his hand, anticipating yours to grab his. Instead, you ignore the outstretched hand and get out yourself. Dusting your clothes as your feet touch the ground. "Are you repulsed by me?—", as he asks that, your hand grabs his collar, glaring at him, "I won't cause a ruckus as long as you keep your hands off of me", "but you're the one touching me, are you not?", he looks down at the hand on his collar which you quickly pull back, turning your attention back to the magnificent castle infront of you.
With guards surrounding the both of you, you are brought into the castle, the prince never leaving your side. As the palace doors open, there are already maids taking the prince's coat off, making him feel at home while you look at him in dissapointment. Does he not even know how to take off his coat? Anywho, you look around, taking it all in. It's been years since you've last been here. "Do you like your new home?", "home?", you instantly turn around and ask, the maids retreating to their positions. Vaelius waltz towards you, a cunning look on his face that makes you want to punch it off him, "yes, you're marrying into this family, [Name]", he takes your hand, "didn't I say not to touch me!—", Vaelius places a peck on the back of your hand, "you wouldn't want to dissapoint the entire empire, now would you?", his eyes show a glint of obsession, though it passes faster than it appeared. For some reason, you can't pry your eyes from the lovestruck prince. "What are you saying...", you're suspicious of Vaelius, just what in heaven's sake is he talking about.
Vaelius gestures for one of his servants to come over. She's holding a blade with both hands which Vaelius grabs, handing it to you, "this is for you, my dear fiancé", his voice alluring and almost commanding you to take the blade in his hands. Despite his warm smile, the air felt heavy with an unspoken tension. Neither one of you wanted to lose this unspoken battle. "Or shall I remind you of how you tried to hurt the one and only heir?", his eyes open to look at you with a fierce look in them, you feel sick to your stomach. You hate him, you hate his family but this might be your only chance in surviving and carrying out your revenge. Lose the battle but win the war as they say.
You grab the blade part, bleeding a bit as it slices into your hand, "then, I'll gladly accept, my prince", you look at him with glaring eyes as he stares back with a smile, "aren't you sweet? Come up with more nicknames before our wedding, won't you?", he gestures again to the maids and in a few seconds, those same maids are guiding you to your new room. Temporary of course. You'd be sharing the same bed as the prince soon, patience.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
"At least the room's nice", you mumble to yourself after seeing where you'll be sleeping for the next few days or weeks. The maids all exit the room, with one letting you know that if you ever need something, to just ring the bell near your bed. You try to take it all in. What you did, what you will do and what he will do. The prince is unpredictable, making you all the more uneasy and wary of him, but for now, you should just enjoy a lavish lifestyle. Just like all those years ago.
"The prince is a beauty isn't he?", your mother catches you off guard. The two of you are sitting on a bench in the garden while ththe prince is with the emperor, discussing a few things with your father. "What do you mean, mother?", you ask in return and she giggles, "don't think I haven't noticed your eyes constantly following his figure now", your eyes widen, face visibly flushed. You can't say anything or rebuttal her words as you know it's true. She notices this and turns to you, a sweet smile on her face, "you might as well ask him out now before he gets snatched up by a girl or perhaps another guy", she jokes but sees that your expression is uneasy, "sweetie, I don't care who you like, you're allowed to love whoever, I mean, you're a teen now! I'm practically a soon to be grandma", she laughs and you do too. The small blonde prince turns to look at you with a huge innocent grin on his face. Little did you know, the emperor had noticed this and glared bullets into you.
"[Name]~?", Vaelius calls out, leaning a bit too close to you for comfort. You throw him off of you immediately, knocking him onto the carpeted ground, "ouch!", he rubs the back of his head which had collided with the ground, something in you compells you to lend him a hand. So, you extend one for him to take and he does so. "Why did you sneak up to me like that!?", you ask, furious. He stands up, almost towering over you, you don't remember him being this tall.."I wasn't, you were just spacing out", he sighs, looking like a hurt puppy who got scolded at by its owner, "don't pull that face and why are you here anyways?", he perks up at the question, "well, you are my soon to be husband, it's only natural I'd introduce you to my father", "I've already met hi-", "no time to lose!", he drags you out the room and into the hallways.
"Father! Meet my fiancé!", Vaelius pushes open the giant door to the emperor's office where Emperor Adrien sat. "What do you mean, son?—", his words are almost cut off as you enter the room, looking like you've been forced to be here, "who is that.", the emperor rises from his seat, looking down at you but not his son, "my fiancé", Vaelius happily says, holding your hand up. "Vaelius Luminayre. What in the world are you thinking", his tone is calm but you can tell he's beyond furious with his one and only son. "I'm perfectly capable of choosing my spouse, am I not, father?", Vaelius is passive aggressive with his words, daring the emperor to oppose his marriage with [Name]. "And what about Princess Elena", he is glaring at you, as if decades of hatred is surfacing once more. You can only look on in silence as the argument between father-son is going on. "Oh, her? You can tell her family we won't be needing them anymore", Vaelius says as if it's the most obvious and easiest thing in the world, ignoring the fact that they had been engaged for half a year. The families had hoped for Vaelius to take her as his empress but now..things have taken a turn for the worse.
"Vaelius. You two will not have my blessing", the emperor thought his son would listen after his little threat but that was far from true. "I didn't come to ask for your blessing, father", Vaelius slyly says, you can almost see an irk mark forming on his cheek. Emperor Adrien is shocked by this response, "Do you understand that you WILL NEVER become emperor if you marry that wretched man!? Has he corrupted your mind!?", the emperor yells and throws a vase your way, only for it to be blocked by Vaelius, what have you even gotten yourself into!? "Keep telling yourself that, old man", the prince turns around, taking you with him and exiting the room as yet another vase flies across the room, hitting the closed door.
This was only the start of your new life.
After that incident, your life became...easier? Well, it was all thanks to Vaelius anyways. Somehow, a few days after Vaelius met with his father to discuss about the marriage further, the emperor suddenly approved of your marriage. With the condition that the marriage would have to be postponed until 3 months later. This was also an opportunity for you to get rid of the royal family and not be tied to them in any way. You just had to figure out when was the perfect time for your plan to be executed.
And that moment came sooner than you expected. It was midnight, you knew everyone in the palace, other than the royal guards, were fast asleep by this point. The palace eerily quiet, the atmosphere almost horror-like as you roam the hallways to look for the emperor's chambers. To your utter shock and surprise, two guards lay dead on the ground of their own blood infront of the cracked open door. "Holy shit..", you cover your mouth. Even though you had seen this countless times...this time was different, it reminded you so much of that night
You also wondered, who could have beaten you to it? With your curiosity growing with each passing moment, you decide to take a peek. Avoiding the blood and corpse, you look through the small crack of the door. Your stomach drops at the sight. The moonlight shines on the perpetrator's blonde hair, in his left hand, the head of the now dead emperor, a blade on his right. The floor and walls covered in blood, the perpetrator himself is also covered in thick red liquid. Your eyes widen as the man notices someone staring at him. He turns to smirk at you, revealing himself as Vaelius Luminayre.
"Come in, why don't you?", he beckons you in, your legs move towards him, obeying his command. Once you reached him, your legs give out, falling into his arms as the bloodied head drops onto the ground with a loud thud. "Well aren't you so sweet? Falling for me like this", your head rests on Vaelius' shoulder as he holds you by your waist. You're almost frozen in place seeing what the prince, no, your fiancé, has done to the emperor. "V-Vae...", "sshh", he hushes you, "I did this for us, [Name], you've wanted this from the beginning, haven't you?", he chuckles in a low voice, a terrifying laugh. "Now we can get married the second the sun rises, isn't that amazing?", he holds your hand and makes you face him, lifting your chin to stare into his eyes as his bore into yours. "I'll be yours and you'll be mine, how's that?", with nothing left to say, you nod in agreement, did you want this from the start..?
"[Name] I'm gonna marry you one day!", the young boy says while pouting. Another lady had been flirting with you prior before this and unfortunately the young prince had witnessed it all. He was not happy. "W-what!?", you're taken aback by his suddenness, "you can't marry me..!", you yell to which he pouts even more, "why? Is it because I'm not a pretty lady!?", Vaelius seems like he's on the verge of crying so you give in, "o-okay then, I'll marry you", his mood takes a turn for the better and he smiles, "no take backs!"
The Prince always gets what he wants. Whether that's the title of Emperor or your hand in marriage. Today marks the day he gains it all. Not only is he the emperor by law, you are also now the Imperial Husband. A title that will be bestowed to you in a couple hours time.
The wedding ceremony was nothing short of grand. Everyone was invited to witness their new emperor's marriage to the former Prince of the [Last Name] house. Most cheered for the couple while some were dissapointed. Oh the look in Princess Elena and her family's eyes, priceless in the eyes of the now Emperor Vaelius. The wedding itself was held in the Royal Palace. Usually it'd be held at a church but Vaelius wanted it to be even more grand so he chose his palace. You even had a custom made outfit fit for the occasion, a pristine white dominated suit with the colors of your house. This was Vaelius' way in honoring the late King and Queen of your kingdom. You hated him and still do probably but you can't deny that what the both of you had in the past, still remains in the present.
Even though you didnt know whether he had been involved or not, something in you wanted him to be involved in your family's massacre, at least then..you can avenge them still, with the former emperor dead and all. You can't fail them but, is it worth murdering an innocent man for? The man whom you had fallen for all those years ago no less. In this marriage, you can't tell if it's either unrequited or requited love.
"Your Imperial Highness..!", a commoner girl says as you and your now husband pass by the crowds of civilians. They're all begging to get your attention, screaming, calling out and even crying, all so that you'd notice them. Maybe theyre trying to gain your favor or maybe they simply find you captivating, Vaelius sure understands where they're coming from. He finds you absolutely irresistible and it would be natural for the public to be captivated by your beauty too. So long as they know their place in his empire. You turn to face the girl who called out for you, her face full of joy despite her shabby clothing and dirty appearance. Why was she so happy just to get a glimpse of you? You'll have to get used to this life now.
What you probably can't get used to is your new life with the Emperor Vaelius. The moment the two of you stepped into your new shared chambers, Vaelius wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed, "Vaelius! What are you doing!?", "we're married now, aren't we? Let's spend the first night like husband and wife", he licks his lips at the sight of you sprawled on the bed. He's been waiting all this time for your return and his want for you can no longer be suppressed.
Without a second thought, Vaelius attacks your neck, littering it with kisses and hickeys. The pain was bearable, but the way he licked you really did send shivers down your spine, this sensation is very new to you. Instead of pushing him off, your hands pull him closer, something compells you to. It's as if the you from all those years ago came back, wanting to hold the now Emperor Vaelius. You close your eyes in pleasure, containing the moans threatening to escape your mouth. "You like this, huh", he speaks against your sensitive skin, making you all the more turned on. "M..mhm", you manage to get out. Vaelius then pulls back, looking at your mesmeric expression. "My...beloved [Name]...", your name rolls off his tongue over and over again as if he's afraid of the possibility of not being able to utter that name anymore. "Never leave me again", it sounds more like a demand rather than a plea. Before you could respond, he took both your hands with his left, his lips pressed against yours while his right hand is wandering down to your pants. Stopping to unzip them. If this was any other piece of clothing, he would have ripped it open. But since it's your wedding outfit, he'd like to keep it intact.
With his hand rubbing your cock, you reach out for said hand, wanting it to stop as you already feel to much pleasure. Never in your life would you have even thought that your first love would be touching you like this, as your husband no less. "Hm? Do you not like it?", Vaelius knows you like it, he just wants to hear those words come out your mouth. "Or would you like it more back there?", his hand wanders towards your hole, a finger pressing on the entrance as you moan just by his touch. His finger stays firmly pressed against your needy hole for a few seconds, enough for you to whine, "Vaelius..just put it in already!", a command he obeys as he immediately inserts a finger into your hole, you close your eyes due to the unfamiliar feeling, it feels weirdly pleasureful. Something in you wants more, something bigger, but you dont voice that out. Though, you neednt say anything for him to know what you want. He pushes in a second finger in, making you cling onto him.
"..ah...NGH...!?", you almost let out a loud moan as you feel your protaste being stimulated, closing your eyes in the process. Vaelius smirks, enjoying the way you're turning into putty under him. He didn't say anything as you moan out. Though, it was clear just by looking at his face, that he was thoroughly enjoying the lewd noises coming from you. Without wasting anymore time, he removed his fingers from your hole.
You felt empty, until something else pressed against your wet hole. Fuck! He's huge..! was your first thought as you took a good look at his lubed cock. You didn't even dare to estimate the size of it, "it won't fit..", a reaction which makes the emperor chuckle, "your body was made for me, of course it will fit", before you could respond or let out a snarky comment, Vaelius thrusts himself into you, gripping your waist as he does. You arch your back, eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, "f-fUcK!", you yell out, "you're so tight..", Vaelius was clearly enjoying the way your hole clenched around him. You, on the other hand, wasn't used to this. Tears form in your eyes but they dont fall. When you look back at the blonde, his face is red, seemingly lost in thought himself as he stares at his cock halfway in your hole. You felt his grip tighten and without warning, he slams his cock as deep as possible inside your ass. You let out a loud scream-like moan. The pleasure and pain hitting you all at once, "my dick feels...so good", he leans down to kiss you. You moan into the kiss, him exploring your mouth with his tongue, making you a mess as drool trickles down your chin.
You were getting used to his size due to him staying still but then Vaelius suddenly pulls out, leaving only the tip inside before thrusting it all in. "Ack..! Ah!", you moan as he thrusts in and out, leaving almost no room for you to breathe as he part his lips from yours, focusing on pounding your ass and filling it up with cum. You on the other hand, felt your eyes rolling back, your whole face flushed as you had a firm grip on the bed sheets. Your moans became louder than before, turning your now husband even more. His pupils were practically heart shaped as he looked at your messy form being fucked so hard and rough you look as if you're losing yourself.
You could see and feel the way Vaelius thrusted his cock in and out of you, your lower belly bulging whenever he went all the way inside. This sight made Vaelius all the more horny. Soon enough, he felt as if he was at his limit, "I'm gonna cum...!", as he said that, you grew more aware of your own orgasm. The more he pounded your hole, the more you felt close to your climax. "Cum with me, darling..!", he said inbetween grunts and gasps. Your body convulsed as you let out your first load in a while. Not only that, but the feeling of Vaelius' thick and warm seed filling up your hole made it all the more pleasureful for you. Unplugging his cock from your hole, his cum drips down onto the bed but the both of you couldn't care less in this moment. Lost in each other.
After a moment of silence and rest, Vaelius was the first to speak, "how was it?", "...well it was my first time so—"You're a virgin??", "...", you gave no further comment, regretting ever letting those words out your mouth. This makes Vaelius laugh and blush, knowing he was your first love and the one who took your virginity, "then...I'll make sure your body gets so used to my cock that nobody else's can satisfy your needs, I've got to make a good first impression for you", he throws himself onto you, wrapping his arms from behind you as you face the other way, "just a warning though, I have many needs and wont stop once I start"
And oh boy was that true.
Not even a month later, and he's already bending you over the table. The official meeting table. With nobles around the both of you as he took the farthest and tallest seat. Well, at this very moment, he's standing as he has his cock all the way inside of you. Your face buried in your arms, not wanting to face the tense nobles. Some are even turned on by the sight of you getting dominated infront of them. But, if any of them stared at you for too long, two blades would come flying towards their eyeballs. Afterall, the only one who should stare at you is Vaelius. "Regarding these problems, whose idea was it?", despite his cock being warmed by you, his personality was far from it. He was cold by nature, only warm towards you. You breathe heavily, embarrassed to be seen like this. The once crown prince, heir to the Aldoria Kingdom is now being bent over by the Emperor Vaelius, full of cock as the man towering over you holds important papers, dicussing as if he's not all the way inside you right now. "I-it was mine, your majesty", Vaelius lets out a dissapointed sigh, even you knew what this meant.
In an instant, he sits down on his seat, bringing you with him. This makes his dick sink even deeper into your hole, grazing your prostate ever so slightly that it makes your hole clench, making him grunt. He was clearly unhappy with the decisions the nobles made under his father's reign. With a hand on your hips, he moves you nack and forth, grinding on his cock. Vaelius somehow doesn't let out a sound that would make him seem weak infront of these powerful men but you do. You moan into your own arm and writhe in his touch, his cock so deep inside and hitting your prostate so good. "What made you come up with such a stupid and revolting idea", even if you aren't able to see it, just by his voice, you could tell he had a sinister look on his face, looking down on the noblemen. "I-I apologize your majesty", you watch as thr powerful men infront of you scared out of their wits when face to face with Vaelius. Though, you didn't pay their reactions any attention as you were too busy focusing on Vaelius' big cock inside.
With his strong hand, he lifts you up until they can see his cock halfway in before pushing you back down on it, he repeats this over and over again. Some of the noblemen got hard but dared not to touch themselves, but especially to you. Less they had a torture wish. "...and you call yourselves powerful? Smart? Hah!", Vaelius lets out a sarcastic laugh, it was loud enough to make them all tremble. "Your majesty..we—", "Silence.", a single word and they all felt their bodies shivering. "Get out of my face. I'll give you all a week.", they knew what he meant by this, he was goving them mercy. All of them got up, synchronized, bowing and thanking the emperor for his mercy before scurrying out the door.
This leaves you alone with the angry emperor. You wondered what would happen to you. Of course, you should have expected to be fucked dumb. Vaelius knew how to hit your prostate just right to get you screaming and slobbering over his cock. He drops the papers on the ground as of they're useless to him and holds your hips instead. You're turned around to face him and your arms wrap around his neck, "your expression...so cute", you weren't given a chance to respond, as if you could in your condition. He lifted you up and down on his cock extra rough. Those noblemen pissed him off and you're the only person who can calm him down. Using your hole. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the entire room. Even as it's air conditioned, the two of you sweat due to the intensity of it. Your prostate was basically being abused at this point, you couldn't think of anything but his cock, your brain all mushy now because of it.
Even as you came, he still continued his rough thrusts. Making you feel even more stimulated due to how sensitive you are after coming. "Take all of my cum inside, [Name], take it all..!", he says before coming inside you. Your head resting on his chest as he hold your waist. After a few minutes, he pulls out and helps you stand before bending you over the desk once more. "I love you [Name], please take all of me", in his eyes, the look of love and lust combined. The young boy, of whom you had once found annoying, has now become the man you despise. The one you wanted to rid the world of. Yet as fate foresaw it, he now stands as the dangerous emperor who has forcibly stolen your heart. But will you let him have it?
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Took two months but here it is yall (Im so sorry😞)
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months ago
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file #1: the piss fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!neuvillette x reader (genshin).
length: 3.2k.
warnings: fem!reader, non/con, omorashi, semi-public sex, humiliation/degradation play, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.
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The first sign that something was deeply, deeply wrong should’ve been the small glass bottle perched on the edge of your bedside table – filled to the brim with water so clear and so pristine that you might’ve thought it was empty, had you been a touch more optimistic.
You blinked once, then twice before summoning the strength to sit up, confusion and well-earned paranoia fighting to clear the fog over your exhaustion addled mind. Neuvillette stood at the foot of your bed, already dressed and currently focused on securing his cravat with a pointed intensity, or so he seemed to want you to believe. “What’s that?”
“Water. Fresh from the finest springs in Fontaine.” He allowed for a lengthy pause, then went on. “Admittedly, I thought you would’ve been more familiar with the concept.”
“I know what—” You started to defend yourself, then thought better of it – gritting your teeth as you snatched the bottle from the tabletop. It was odorless, unclouded, and as far as you could tell, containing a negligible amount of a foreign entity’s bodily fluids. All good signs, but Neuvillette wasn’t the caretaker type, and he knew you weren’t the type to want to be taken care of. You’d learned, over time, that any explicit display of his fondness for you was to be followed immediately by a demand that you reciprocate that fondness or, more realistically, grit your teeth and bear it while he poured further ‘affection’ onto you. “Is it… Is it supposed to be for me?”
“If you’d like for it to be.”
“And you didn’t put anything—”
“Please, love.” His voice was flat, but gentle. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an interrogation so early in the morning.”
You were more than tempted to refuse, but your dry throat and bleary mind provided ample motivation. With no small amount of reluctance, you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips before pulling it away just as quickly, sending Neuvillette a half-hearted glare. “What are you getting out of this?”
At that, he folded. There was an airy sigh, a slight shake to his head, a notable pause before his answer – less hesitant and more measured, tempered. “As long as you’re under this roof rather than that of the Fortress of Meropide, you’re within my guard. That means your health and well-being is my responsibility, as well as your containment.” You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had the chance to cut in. “Left to your own devices, you’re prone to neglecting yourself. Is it so wrong of me to want to correct that?”
You shrunk into yourself, glowering. You could’ve done without the reminder that he saw your personality as something to ‘correct’, but compared to his methods, nudging you towards hydration was a negligible offense. “Fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “But don’t get it into your head that I’m some… some incompetent child that’s going to start crying for your help every five seconds.”
His only response was a soft smile, as tender as it was ingenuine.
~
A member of his personal staff left your breakfast (Neuvillette never ate with you – in fact, you were beginning to wonder if he ate at all) in front of the door a few minutes later, and Neuvillette made sure you’d finished the bottle of water, everything on the tray, and an additional glass of bulle fruit juice before he let you dress. Usually, you were allowed to entertain yourself while he attended to his responsibilities as the Iudex, but today, you were taken by the hand and guided to his office – keeping your eyes on the floor as you passed by the secretaries and bureaucrats that populated most of the Palais Mermonia’s administrative floors. You might’ve had Neuvillette’s favor (however much you could’ve gone without it), but in Fontaine, a criminal record wasn’t an easy thing to erase. You tried not to draw too much attention from those who surely thought you should’ve been buried underneath the nearest ocean and forgotten. “I miss you most in the dull hours of the early morning,” he said, when you asked him why you were being denied your usual freedoms. “Bear with me just this once, and I might be able to find time for a stroll through the palace gardens, this afternoon.”
No part of you wanted to spend your day rotting on a loveseat in a dusty corner of his frigid office, but the promise of being able to step outside (a privilege you were rarely afforded) was irresistible. You dutifully nursed a lukewarm cup of bland peppermint tea as he sorted through decade-old casefiles, made a show of gulping down a mug of hot chocolate brought to you by a doe-eyed melusine while Neuvillette reviewed evidence for an upcoming trial, and managed to hold a strained smile when a man with a wide smile and a jarring laugh stopped by with two armfuls of vintage wines – gifts for the Iudex from a wealthy merchant hoping to buy for the favor of Fontaine’s most influential. Since Neuvillette didn’t have a taste for anything with more flavor than morning dew, you were called over to sample each in generous portions as their conversation stretched on and on and on.
By the time the man took his leave, your thoughts were fuzzy around the edges, your lips were stained red, and there was a pressure on your lower stomach that you didn’t care for. You made it about a minute, then another after his departure before pushing yourself to your feet and starting for the door. If you were quick, you shouldn’t have to weather the disdainful looks of too many of Neuvillette’s—
“Dearest?”
You cursed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. Neuvillette spared a small smile when he caught your eye, tapping his knee. “If you have a moment?”
Your grin faltered. “I… I was hoping to—”
“It’s rather important.”
You pursed your lips, but relented. You’d already done your time. You weren’t going to jeopardize your reward, now.
Irritation written clearly across your expression, you made your way to Neuvillette and, with another tap to his thigh by way of command, clambered into his lap. He positioned you to his preferences; Your legs thrown over one armrest while your back rested against the other, your shoulder pressed gingerly to his chest – the contact minimal, but enough to earn a sigh, a feather-light kiss to your cheek. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cupped your chin, tracing over your jaw for a moment before dropping lower – to the lace of your low neckline, then your stomach, where it settled. You tried not to squirm as he lowered his head, his cold breath fanning over your neck before his lips came to rest against the side of your throat. “Such a beautiful thing,” he muttered, his voice low enough to reverberate against your skin. “I’ll have to get you another dress in this color. It’s unbearable, just how lovely it looks on you.”
The praise was far from alien, but no less frigid for its familiarity. Whereas his wardrobe seemed to contain only the harshest of blacks, the purest of whites, and the richest of blues, he favored you in softer tones, faded pastels and desaturated hues that always made you feel like a doll, buried in sheets of silk and lace and left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. The style, too, was a distinct departure from what he preferred for himself; all plunging necklines and full skirts and lacey bodices pulled so tight, you were tempted them to a proper corset. It was far from immodest, even for a setting so formal, but the length of your skirt never seemed to stop his hand from slipping under the many layers of fine material, his gloved fingers skirting over the length of your clothed slit. You felt his lips ghost over the side of your neck, the points of his unnaturally sharp teeth grazing over your jugular, but you shoved him away before he could make contact. “Wait, Neuvillette, I—I don’t—”
Your voice gave out, and Neuvillette raised his head curiously. “Is something wrong, my love?”
“I… I, uh…” You balled your fists in your lap. “I can’t, right now.”
You couldn’t remember ever seeing his smile so wide. “You… can’t?”
“Shut your mouth,” you mumbled, face burning with humiliation. “I… I have to use the restroom.”
It sounded so pathetic, so childish. More out of embarrassment than anything, you moved to stand, but Neuvillette’s sudden stock of mercy had evidently run dry. With an airy laugh, his arm found its way to your waist, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. Now, he chose not to waste time – the pad of his thumb finding your clit and pushing slow, languid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t temper your reaction, your elbow jutting into his chest as you jerked away from his abrupt touch, but Neuvillette held you tight, his fingertips digging into your hip as two of his fingers skimmed over your entrance, the leather of his gloves smooth and freezing against your cunt. Your stomach ached, your eyes flitting unconsciously towards the very much unlocked door of his office, but if Neuvillette noticed your lasting hesitancy, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the crook of your neck. Usually, you tried to bear his unwanted affection with a silent grimace, but you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as he gathered the arousal slowly starting to drip down your thighs. “Neuvillette, I don’t want to—”
“Hush, now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Another kiss, this one to the dip of your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.”
“I’m not worried, I’m—” You started to protest, but Neuvillette cut you off with a sudden nip to the tender patch just above your jugular. You weren’t enjoying this, you didn’t want to enjoy anything, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel something as his cool breath fanned over your neck, your chest, as his thumb fell away and he ground the heel of his palm into your clit, drawing a pained whine out of the back of your throat.
It took a conscious effort to keep your mind off of the fullness sitting heavy in the base of your stomach, to stop yourself from squirming quite so pitifully as he pushed two fingers into you with a cruel sort of ease. His pace was just as slow as it had been when he was only toying with your clit, but you didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful for the lethargic, ebbing way he pumped his digits into you, only ever pausing to spread them apart when his knuckles were flush to your entrance, when he knew he’d be taking advantage of the most vulnerable parts of you. Despite his vice-like hold on your waist, it took a considerable effort to stop yourself from swaying, from shifting, from moving in any way beyond the little, inevitable bucks of your hips you just couldn’t seem to suppress when his fingers brushed against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you. Moving only made it worse. Everything only seemed to make it worse, and it was only getting harder to ignore the pressure mounting against the walls of your bla—
Without warning, the hand on your waist fell to your hip. On moment, you were laid across his lap, and the next, you were straddling his thighs, your back pressed against his chest and your ass slotted against the now unignorable bulge in his pants. Whatever complaints you might’ve had about the previous angle were tripled in an instant. A third finger was forced into your cunt alongside the last two, the stretch immediately turning from awkward to unbearable. You thought you’d gotten used to the size of his hands, his monstrous tongue, even his twin cocks, but suddenly, it was like you were being forced to take him for the first time again, every new quirk and flick of his wrist bringing tears to your eyes, drawing fractured whimpers from deep in your chest. You tried to raise your hands, to cover your face, to make the thought of crying in front of him for the first time in months that much less devastating, but Neuvillette was faster – his hand finding your chin, tilting your head back and tearing away any foolish thoughts you might’ve had about hiding from him. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise your lips, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and raking over your own with an almost zealous desperation – a type he rarely showed. His mouth moved against yours for a second, then another before he let out a throaty growl, the noise rough and gravely. If it hadn’t known it was coming from such a refined man, you might’ve taken it for that of an animal. “You still taste like that bastard’s grime.” It was the angriest you’d ever heard him. “To taint such divine purity with such wretched filth – it should be a crime, no, a sin.”
And yet, he was already reaching for the wine glass on the corner of his desk – still half full of a sugared white variety, nearly colorless if it wasn’t for the slight, pinkish tint to its hue. You tried to twist away as he raised the glass to your mouth, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and it only took a few seconds for him to slot the curved rim against your lips, to tilt the glass back and fill your mouth with sickeningly sweet alcohol. It was too hasty, too clumsy – wine splashing against your face, trickling out of the corner of your mouth despite your feeble attempts to swallow it down and save yourself just an ounce of further embarrassment. You’d barely managed a mouthful when Neuvillette’s patience gave out – the glass falling away, shattering on the floor of his office as his hand dropped to your midriff, groping at your bloated stomach while his fingers pounded into your aching core. “Stop,” you managed, between broken moans. “Stop, Neuvi’, I can’t— I don’t want to— Stop.”
He let you whine and mewl, twisted and thrash, but it didn’t make a difference. Neuvillette only nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing as he spoke over your pitiful noises. “It’s alright, love,” he muttered, the harsh edge of his tone softened by heady affection. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”
You tried to reach for the edge of his desk, to make one last desperate attempt to pull yourself away from him, but it was already too late. You clenched your eyes shut as you came undone on his fingertips, as some badly beaten wall inside of you finally gave out and an awful, awful warmth sopped into the fabric of your gown and trickled down your thighs. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know how bad the damage was, but as Neuvillette nursed you through your stilted climax, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling open and dropping to the dark stain slowly spreading in the lap of your skirt, couldn’t stop yourself from hearing Neuvillette’s deep, rumbling groan as your… your accident began to soak into the priceless fabric of his pants. This time, he didn’t stop you when your hands shot up to cover your face, to muffle your broken cries as he finally drew back, pulling out of you entirely for the first time since he hauled you into his lap.
There was a second of stillness, of sweet-nothings muttered into the curve of your throat, but whatever relief you might’ve been able to feel was quickly replaced with a jarring, painful sort of vertigo as Neuvillette’s hands fell to your hips and he lifted you onto his desk – your chest pressed flat to the chilled wood and your ass raised high enough for your shirts to pool around your waist. You sobbed unabashedly as your ruined panties were torn away entirely, as the flat of Neuvillette’s tongue ran over the length of your slit, his saliva only adding to the terrible blend of slick and piss and mess leaking out of you. Any concerns he might’ve held for your pleasure were forgotten as he lapped and licked at your pussy, his tongue fucking shallowly into your cunt as his fingertips bit into your waist. If your nerves hadn’t been so fried, if your mind hadn’t been so clouded with embarrassment and despair and pure, undiluted humiliation, you wouldn’t have been able to feel anything worth salvaging, but somehow, you found little, wavering moans breaking through your incoherent sobbing, something other than pain and pressure beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You buried your face in your arms as you clenched around his tongue against your will, as Neuvillette left you whimpering and grinding against his mouth, helpless to stop your pathetic body from doing anything he wanted it to.
It was only when the final aftershocks of your second climax faded and the first pangs of piercing overstimulation began to set in that he pulled away, panting as he straightened his back. He didn’t so much collapse onto you as deliberately drape his form over yours – his chest pressing into your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice distant, dream-like. “So perfect for me. You did beautifully.”
Your only response was another wobbling cry, a trembling sniffle. You couldn’t so much as imagine attempting to stand on your own, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to need you to. With one arm wrapped around your midriff and the other underneath the bend of your knees, he pulled you against his chest and hummed softly as you sank into his shoulder, your ruined dress falling into place like a leaden shroud around you. You decided, in that moment, that you would burn it as soon as possible, as thoroughly as possible. Neuvillette’s chambers didn’t have a fireplace and you’d never found so much as a candle within the walls of the Palais Mermonia, but that didn’t matter. You’d get rid of it if you had to break down the furniture for kindling.
“Can I…” You melted further into him, your eyes drooping before shutting entirely. “Can I go back to my room, please?”
“Soon enough.” He pressed a tender, lingering kiss into your temple. In your dazed state, you could nearly miss the scrape of pointed fangs against delicate skin, as he pulled away.
“I believe I promised you a walk through our gardens, first?”
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screeching-bunny · 1 year ago
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Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗
Yandere! Slasher Pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt. 1
After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.
You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”
The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.
Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”
You: “...”
After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.
You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”
Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”
You: “I don’t like your face.”
Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”
You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”
Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.
Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.
Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”
With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.
The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.
“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”
As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.
“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”
With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.
Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.
“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”
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