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queenendless · 28 days ago

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A/n: As much as we all love current Jinwoo, every version of Jinwoo is precious. And SO!

All Jinwoos have romantic feelings for you but not for each other cause they're the same person.

Triple Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Adult!Reader

CW: MANWHA SPOILERS INSIDE! SPOILER ALERT: There will be a PT 2 to this one shot cause this got kinda long. So there's that.

BIG TIME What if AU. Angst, hurt/comfort, depression, chronic problems, sleeping anxiety.

NO PLAGARIZING, REPOSTING, TRANSLATING, USE OF MY FANFIC WORK IN AI STUFF ALLOWED. REBLOG, LIKE AND FOLLOW INSTEAD PLS N THNX.

You never imagined you'd become the light of your angel's life. You still have days when you think that it's all been one long dream and you'd wake up back in that grey lonely life you never want to go back to.

But no, waking up that afternoon in your shared spacious bedroom. Rolling in that King sized bed to detect his side had his scent lingering still. But empty. Meaning he hadn't returned from his guild work from yesterday.

The sound of the front door to your shared home opening got your heart racing with joy at the chance to see your dear Monarch again.

And yet, the ensuing situation that followed suit really did feel like walking into a dream. An unusual one at that, sure. But also quite intriguing.

“Neither a curse nor a status debuff, my ass. You'd think these new Monarch powers could undo this side effect?” The tallest Jinwoo grumbled under his breath, brushing back his hair in frustration, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“How are we supposed to be out in public now? Handle the guild? Seeing our folks? Our secret will be found out at this rate!” Post reawakened Jinwoo griped, pinning you in between him and pre reawakened Jinwoo like a sandwich, to your dopey smiling satisfaction.

“In any case, I'll be the one visiting the guild for those matters. Otherwise, you and I will tackle the dungeons ourselves, alone.”

“H-Hang on! Why should I be left behind?! I'm no male housewife!” Starter Jinwoo whined.

“Yeah, don't kid yourself, squirt.” Monarch Jinwoo ruffled his unruly mop of hair affectionately, his baby faced counterparts pouting and puffed up cheeks proving his point.

“Aw, please don't leave me alone.” You nuzzled his pink dusted face like a needy cat, that got him melting up.

“Uh – I – o – okay~” His bashful smile got you planting a big ol smooch on his lips. He couldn't stop smiling as he swooned over your lap.

Jinwoo #2 glared, a vein popping up on his head. “Hey, it's not fair he gets to hog our sweetheart all to himself all day while we have to work.”

“With no reawakening, he can't level up so he'd be putting himself at Death's door again like before. If even one of us dies, we'll all die and leave our family behind, including our beloved here. And they won't be defenseless.” King Jinwoo explained.

The sight of Beru appearing out of your Shadow got Jinwoo#1 trembling from fear instinctively at the imposing entity when Monarch Jinwoo stood between you two and his General.

“Should any harm come to these two, like getting distracted by your period dramas, you know what will happen, don't you?” The deadly gaze of his King spoke doom for the former Ant King.

Shadow Preservation will let him know the moment Beru fumbles.

“Yes, I do, my liege! I will not let you down! And if I fail, I will gladly accept my punishment! But please give me a chance to prove my usefulness to you all!” Beru weeped before his liege dismissed him, meshing into the shadow of —

“Jinwoo mochi.”

“ … Eh?” All three sweat dropped in sync.

The action of cupping OG Jinwoo's supple cheeks, kneading and pinching and rubbing your thumbs in circles on such pure smoothness had your eyes sparkle in wonder and your hums of content heard behind your smitten grin. The visual of pre Jinwoo's face going from pale to rosey red as his grey blue eyes had spirals of tipsy dazeness, incomprehensible sounds spilling out of his dopey smile.

“You are so fucking cute, I can't stand it!” Your playful growling as you indeed began chewing on his cheeks got his nervous laughs rumbling into your chest next, his heart in overdrive, matching beat for beat with yours.

The steamy blow of air through their noses was one warning signal that the other two Jinwoo were irked — envy molten auras in blue and purple another sign — that baby-faced them was getting your current attention.

“Don't you dare forget about me, beautiful~” Jinwoo the 2nd cockily purred in your ear, plopping behind you on the couch, nipping at your nape, his nose dotingly rubbing your cheek, keeping you struggling between focus on both bois.

“I'll engrave myself in your mind then~” The effortlessly hot deepness of King Jinwoo’s inflection had him gently grip your chin to raise your face to meet him over the couch in quite a devouring kiss.

“Hey, sharing is caring, you sneaky bastards!” Baby Jinwoo shrilled up. Breaking free just to save your deprived lungs, an all out argument between all three ensued, your light headed self slacking against the couch.

The cacophony of range these three voices could go filled in your now lively place.

And so, then began this unexpected arc in the story of you and Jinwoo times three.

Pre-reawakened Jinwoo.

While the other two would do their dungeon raids together, that meant you'd spend most of your time with him.

Stuck at home together meant you teaming up to manage it, whether that be folding laundry to even cook together. If you don't really cook, he's more than happy to teach you. Having his hands layer yours, pressed up against you from behind, is the best feeling. Course he'd melt in a puddle shortly after.

Taking walks together outdoors meant holding hands or intertwined arms as you spent hours chatting about anything, mesmerized in each other's eyes while admiring the flora and fauna of nature.

“Okay, I am the male wife.” He mumbled in surrender, slumping against you, both of you in your casual tees and shorts, binging your favorites together in the living room while sharing your snacks together one lazy day.

“He admits it!” You exclaimed dramatically, ruffling his already unruly shaggy mop to his giggling delight.

“I know I'm not like the other mes… but I will do my best to make you happy. I'll do anything for you. I love you with all my heart, saarang.”

You easily top him over, laying atop him, your bedroom eyes conjuring hearts in his grey blue irises. “Then I'll make sure you're reminded each and every day that you're just as well loved. You're all mine now, baby girl~”

His drawn out squeak was the only sign of him still alive from the embarrassment, slacking in your arms like a limp noodle.

He's the easiest to mess with, all out of love.

Post reawakened Jinwoo, still an E-rank.

You did most of your outings into the city with him. Usually he goes incognito, whether in caps and a face mask or keeping his hoodie on, hoping not to be spotted and mistaken for his S-rank self.

You both did the buying, groceries and window shopping. Your phone gallery was chock full of selfies with you and your bashful grinning hunter.

While Tank became his assigned Shadow in the meantime, he could serve as transport. But only when it was just you two around or unless it's an emergency. Besides, he still has his own speed skills. Hence, giving you piggyback rides before zipping away in a flash, leaving folk wandering nearby nearly falling over from the sudden strong gusts of winds he left in his wake. His cheeky grin looking back at you took your breath away.

Joining him in on his daily quest workouts nearly do you in, your physically ailing limits being the root cause. Your legs turn to jelly as you nearly collapse from fatigue but your dashing hunter lover makes sure to catch you in his arms, holding you tightly while riding on Tank for the trek back home.

While you can openly tease and mess with him, he's on even footing with you, even more so.

“It's a pain to be split in three and not knowing how long it'll last, so having you with me is a blessing. Now tell me, what will it take for you to make me the best Sung Jinwoo in your eyes? Come on, honey, let your angel Woo you over~”

That cheesy pun out of the blue sent you buckling over in bouts of laughter, nearly falling over but his arms enveloping you kept you standing within his grasp. “Wow. Can't believe that actually worked,” He murmured in astonishment, grinning confidently in response. “She has Sung her approval~!”

That got you cackling, clutching your aching tummy, as more puns came your way to leave you a breathless mess that went beyond his expectations, utterly convinced to be more silly from that point on, even after he hopefully becomes whole again.

And Shadow Monarch Jinwoo, the tenth S-rank hunter in Korea and the head of his own guild, is hands down the most possessive over you. The rare moments you get alone with him happen in his own private office when he takes you to work with him.

The selfie of him putting you in an explicit headlock rivaled every single photo you took with his reawakened past self. His vibrant violet eyes on his smug smirking face littered by your lipstick smooches, your blushing squished cheeks, those veins along that flexing bicep smothering your lip smeared shameless face.

Making a group chat with just the Jinwoos proved a bad call when the other two were driven up the wall with envy at their superior version laying claim to you when they weren't around. The stream of emojis from Jinwoo 1 merging with the countless threats from Jinwoo 2 made big boss Jin darkly chuckle in the entertaining response, the mirthful twinkle in his eyes rippling from spotting you red in the face like mush in his big leather desk chair.

Unwinding from the stress of his guild master duties and keeping face with his colleagues and family while also having to wait out however long this three in one problem will last. Taking rides together on Kaisel gave you both a much needed breath of fresh air. Updating you on pupil Jinwoo's progress leveling up although the Gates turn red whenever he joins in said gate all to challenge him. He assures you immensely that he ensures his other self’s safety while sharing the EXP.

“Sharing you with my other selves has been quite the test for my tolerance.” Tugging insistently on his tie, the taut muscle definition of his upper chest peaked out, his neck flexing those veins, flaring his collar out in the process. “However, I am resolved to remind them just who truly is in charge here.” Pinning you literally on top of his desk came just as quick as you did already feeling him brush up against your valley. “Including you~”

Chronic problems plagued your form. Daily migraines, tense knots in your neck, the works. Regardless of which Jinwoo does it, massages always come your way. Whether resting your head on their lap or laying down on the bed, you melted from their shared skill touch.

Of course not every day is sunshine and rainbows. With chronic issues also came depression. Of course, all three dudes come to an agreement on equally giving you space to unwind as well as teaming up to give you all their affection.

Jinwoo #1 gifts you single flowers that grew surrounding your home, placing them behind your ear after presenting you one each day. Home-cooked meals are a given at this point, keeping in mind your allergies and dietary restrictions should you have any. He helps prepare salt baths that you more than invite him to join you to keep your clingy self company. And he lends his hoodie for comfort on those moody grey days.

Jinwoo #2 gifts you during your shopping sprees together, purchasing plushies and apparel to even getting fried chicken that you make sure you have enough to share with all your bois at home. You and him game together when he comes home early from raiding. Although his fatigue relief skill kicked in, he still deflated in your embrace welcoming him back home in the foyer, nuzzling your adorable face like a needy feline himself. Plus, his rambunctious commentary sends you into a wheezing mess, handing him easy wins. The times you did dethrone him resulted in his stubborn self knowing he could do better, challenging you for another round.

Jinwoo #3 is the one most able to give you anything your heart desires. With such influence and connections on top of his limitless abilities as the reincarnated Monarch, he would make anything possible. But considering he was the busiest out of the three, all you really wanted was to spend more time together. He still gifted you the same items as his other selves, but he made sure to include a fancy dinner and a dance among the stars as an inviting bonus.

Sleep anxiety is also a struggle you face. Incidents from your dreary past late at night left their scars. So taking naps now and then throughout the day after sleeping in the morning was your norm.

Even now, comfortably sleeping through the night is difficult, anxiety making you uncomfortable on edge for the unpredictable and unknown.

One step, one night at a time, the secure embrace giving you reassuring squeezes in bed reminding you you weren't alone. Whichever Jinwoo it is, they all are perfect bedmates. Their cooing words became your ASMR.

“Ssh. There there. I'm right here. Listen to my breathing, my heart, my voice. You can rest easy now, sweetheart.”

Kissing your teary face and letting you rest on their cozy warm chests as they rubbed comforting circles along your back, the combined sensations slowly aided in your sleep, however long or short.

So returning the favor only made sense.

All three Jinwoos suffered from nightmares. Mostly Jinwoo #1. Night terrors were his own sleep struggle throughout this story arc. Especially from dreams of the Double Dungeon. Breaking out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning, whimpering and weeping, before screaming out in awakening, heaving haphazardly, desperately reaching his hands out to you, clinging to you like the lifeline you are. Especially on nights when your other Jins’ are still out due to whatever reason.

Singing a lullaby song you heard from a show that really stuck with you helped a great deal in calming him down. Cradling him in your arms, brushing through those sweat matted bangs, your voice was the angel of music gracing his ears. It's too mesmerizing to ignore.

“You're okay. You're alright. I'll never ever leave your side. I will stay and I will fight with you~”

Unbeknownst to you two, Beru's shadow linked to both versions of his master, Jinwoo #3 swoons over your heavenly voice, smiling like a lovesick fool, Jinho silently hoping they finish work early so his big bro can get back to you, his one and only.

“Please don't leave me. Please stay, Y/n.” Your Jin baby's wish gets granted by your doting, utilizing the same exact methods they use to treat your night troubles.

Jinwoo 2 is less vocal when he wakes up from bad dreams. Yet you feel a sturdy heat envelope around you. His endearing gaze grew the more he stared at your peaceful face, his stare blurring from warm wetness, blinking them back before pecking your forehead. “You're my dream come true~” He whispers lovingly in your ear before cuddling up against your precious self, tears actually shed as you return the hug through your slumber, thoughts of you and only you lulling him into good old dream land.

Now Jinwoo 3 is something else. He usually sits up, lost in thought for a bit, before heading to the kitchen for a mug of water and maybe even preparing some food to keep him busy. And every time, he could feel you arising, finding him, and joining him all so he wouldn't be alone. He'd do the same for you. They all would, absolutely.

You can hear the aching vulnerability trembling with each breath he took as his towering frame draped over you, his shoulders shaking as his hands clawed at your back, your very existence grounding him in the here and now.

“Parts of me will never be the same, not after all I've done … yet you still choose me. How did I ever deserve you, huh?” His nose caresses yours, rocking with you side to side, as his submerging look sunk its hold upon your trembling soul. “Y/n, you truly are something else. My safe haven~”

While having three Jinwoos is indeed a handful, seeing every part of him that make up who he is reminds you of his empathy, sympathy, cleverness, tactfulness, and brilliance.

But you too hope that your three darlings become whole again soon.

And soon enough, at last, your shared prayers were finally heard.

The solution to this dilemma?

Well ...

What do you think~?

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purerae · 4 months ago

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— DUPLEXITY;;

fem!reader x coworker!yanderes

— who knew attempting to bond with your co workers would lead to a fucked up love triangle?

prologue; quit your job! If dying was an option right now, Y/N would take it with a gleeful smile.

Sprinting through the woods, her ears ringing, she slams her grimy, broken hand against her head over and over. Her knees, bruised to a swollen pulp of purple, threaten to buckle beneath her. A deep, unprotected gash dressed painfully across her back, its edges rotting, every movement tearing at the poorly dressed wound.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe. Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal." she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home.

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with 'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time.

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown. His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off.

A/N : New story :p !! i really like the plot for this one and will have a masterlist out for it soon!

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 10 months ago

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A Changed Future (1): Yandere Isekai

When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing you’d expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own

The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own

Instead, it’s resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for

And if it was all adding up right you’d find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true

“Look I’m sorry I yelled…I love you…I’m really hungry. Can I eat today?”

The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside their–now your basement

Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist

Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonist’s attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but that’s hearsay

In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their family’s whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children

Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents

That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellow

Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary

finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy life

Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome

To find that you’ve been isekai’d is jarring

But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful

But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you

“Yeah….sure.”

Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink

Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all

“Y-you’re letting me go?”

“Yes, I won’t stop if you want to go to the police…but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

You felt so selfish

But you weren’t the one who imprisoned him

Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf

After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savings

You go to their place of work where they’re in line for a promotion

“I quit.”

“E-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?”

“I know. Sorry?”

You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you

In your opinion, the protagonist didn’t deserve any of their success

They technically didn’t need it because they were stacked

Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions

“You are actually agreeing to talk with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hit your head?!”

With the knowledge from spoilers and ads you’d seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings

You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own

But in the meantime you’d do what you felt was right

Turning their life—now your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes they’ve done

Unfortunately, though things don’t seem to want to go your way

“Please Please take me back!”

“What?”

“You heard me! You were right you’re the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!”

“Okay?”

It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society

Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years

Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead

He tried to go back to working but he couldn’t get you out of his head

Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him

But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains

The one that fed him a hot meal

The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs

The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do

That’s the you, he likes

And he’d much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life

“I don’t mind if you stay here if you need but I’m not keeping you trapped here. I won’t do it anymore.”

He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him

But he’ll take you up on your offer to move in with you

“Good morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job you’re getting up so much later now. You’ve got to be careful waking too late.”

“Uhm how do you know I quit my job?”

“Unless you're locking me in the basement you don’t need to know!~”

He’s like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way

Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you haven’t thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out

“Ooops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! I’m so bad, being so careless even though you’ve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?”

He’s going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away

You’re even sweeter now that he’s not locked away and that’s not helping

He’ll ultimately decide he should try it

“Hey (Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You still feel guilty about what you did to me right?”

“...Yes.”

“Then how about you do something for me? To make up for it?”

Even if you know you’ve done nothing wrong

The guilt doesn’t stop you

Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers

Or rather tries to

“I just can’t seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.”

You couldn’t be sure either

Which is why you don’t protest as his actions tend to get a bit more…wild

“Like you suggested I did try going for that new job again.”

“Uh that’s good.”

“I know since you’ve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. I’d feel bad for them if you weren’t with me!”

“Right…”

“But being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.”

He treats you better than the former protagonist did

Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there

But he wants more from you

More Kisses

More Cuddles

More Romance

More Touching

More Quality time

He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again

Except this time it was related to you

“I’m Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. I’m wondering is (Y/n) home? I’ve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasn’t been going through.”

“And I’m Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if that’s alright Haruko.”

Part 2: Here

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ozzgin · 5 months ago

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I’d love to see how each yandere would treat the Y/N plush

Cherishes the plush as if it was the most precious thing on Earth

We're talking borderline worshipping behavior. The plush has a dedicated shrine, dusted shelves, and will receive loving glances everyday. It is, however, off-limits and no-touch. Its sanctity must be protected.

Daitou, Sekiya, Sakaki, Demon King, Yandere!Android, Daos, Monster Husband

Treats the plush as a Y/N replacement for lonely days

Ideally the yandere would be sharing a bed with you, but alas; you're not presently here. The plush becomes their best friend whenever they can't have access to you. Mind you, it's just cuddles and hugs filled with yearning.

Kazuya, Kiritsubo, Suma, Asylum Spider, Clumsy!Yandere, Yandere!Vampire

Unspeakable perversions have been done to this plush

The hollow eyes of the stuffed toy merely hint at the terrors that have happened behind closed doors. This yandere is a degenerate pervert, blinded by their lust for you. Anything will do, as long as it satiates their maddening need.

Zzy, Yuugiri, Serial Killer, Yandere!Prince, Loser!Yandere, Yandere!Shapeshifter, Orc Siblings

#y/n plush #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere yakuza #yokai harem #zzy #daos

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droaxa · 6 months ago

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the villainesses scheme

✧ tags: yandere haikyuu male leads x villainess reader

✧ warnings: yandere behavior (later on), reader hits her head

✧ a/n: hi guys guess who’s back!! i love the isekai trope where the mc gets reborn a few years before their death and i needed to put my own lil’ twist on it! i’d love to turn this into something longer (like a series or something) so give me your thoughts!! my recent haikyuu obsession led to this one lol, inspired by: the male leads were stolen by an extra

You were a loser, well not exactly. You had a pretty stable job and a nice flat but lacked one major component in your life: friends. But it’s not like you were antisocial! Moving to a new city just a few months ago, you had been busy with moving in and didn’t exactly have enough time to make friends.

Besides you were preoccupied with your favorite web comic of all time: Flower of the Estate! A commoner girl that has three noble men falling for her? This girl really had some crazy cha(rizz)ma. You weren’t really into harem type stories but wow did it keep you coming back to see what happened.

It was another late night reading Flower of the Estate when you decided to head to the kitchen to get some snacks to keep you fueled. However, when you turned to retreat back you slipped on spilled water near the sink and hit your head on the granite counter! You mentally curse yourself for not cleaning it up as you drift into a deep slumber.

When you open your eyes and the lights blind you, quickly slapping a hand over your face you shoot up. Registering the soft plush beneath you you opened your eyes, when did you get in bed? Looking around your jaw drops, who the hell put you in a room like this! The whole room was illuminated by sunlight peaking behind the luxurious navy drapes and you gasped at the sheer size and extravagance of the bedroom. You were… in a castle?

Jumping off the bed you immediately fell to your knees with a thud. How long had you been out for that your legs were this weak? You push yourself up and stumble to the mirror on a vanity next to the bed. The satin fabric of your night gown fell to the ground, revealing the length that had been bunched up while you were sleeping.

In the mirror, the first thing you see is (e/c) eyes and a face eerily similar to yours. It was your face and body for sure but the state of it wasn’t, your hands were usually rough and your knees were scarred from playing as a child but now both were smooth and even. Then your eyes feel on a crest engraved onto the top of the vanity and your heart dropped.

The beautiful family crest of a black fox protected by two swords was a prevalent symbol in Flower of the Estate. It was the crest of the villainess. You, (y/n) Aleria, were the cruel villainess of the story, waking up here and looking like this had no other explanation. To see if it was true you quickly pushed the sleeve of your left arm up, on the wrist was a faint birthmark. A scar in the shape of a half moon, your fate was sealed. You fall back on the bed. ‘Shit.’

You were official the villainess of Flower of the Estate, who bullies the main character, get thrown out of high society, and then dies. You knew the path that the villainess followed and the actions she took, did that mean you could avoid facing the same death as her as well? The first mistake that she had committed that set her on the path of destruction was her bullying of the main character.

The villainess was notorious for her extravagant lifestyle and cruel manner, she didn’t have anyone close to her and the book never showed her point of view. You knew the basics about her but who was (y/n) — really? Was she really just jealous of the commoner girl that had managed to outshine her or was it deeper than that?

No matter why she behaved that way, you knew that following on her footsteps would only lead you to doom. You needed a game plan, plus you read enough reincarnation manga to know what basic things to avoid as the villainess.

Love Interests and Relations:

Tooru Oikawa - Childhood love (One sided) and (y/n)’s main obsession

Tobio Kageyama - Royal knight who pledged their loyalty to (y/n)

Ushijima Wakatoshi - Esteemed scholar who ended up being (y/n)’s tutor for a short period of time

Ok… this would a little harder than you thought. Why were all the love interests involved with the villainess anyway? Oikawa could be avoided easily enough, you just needed to distance yourself from him and considering that Oikawa was keen on getting rid of you. If you remembered correctly he was rather annoyed by the villainess who would cling to his side like a lost puppy. As for Ushijima, you knew that he would only be your tutor for a month, then leave your care to meet the main character who he would eventually fall in love with. Kageyama would be the hardest to get rid of compared to the other two, he would be around the villainesses the longest and somehow fall in love with her. However much like the others, he would fall in love with the female lead and leave (y/n) to be with her, withdrawing his pledge to be by her side.

Ugh. This is going to be a headache isn’t it?

#yandere #x reader #female reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #angst #yandere x y/n #yandere harem #yandere royalty #yandere haikyuu #yandere king #yandere duke #yandere haikyuu x reader #reincarnation #reincarnated reader

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la-patrona-magdalena · 3 months ago

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I NEED MORE BATBOYS X READER HAREM FANFICS, I NEED TO SEE THE FOUR BROTHERS IN SOME WAY COMING TO AN AGREEMENT TO SHARE THE READER, I NEED TO MAYBE SEE ALL FOUR BEING YANDERES, I NEED TO SEE ONE OF THOSE HAREM IMAGES WITH THE FOUR OF THEM, BONUS IF DUKE AND TERRY ARE IN IT, I NEED A POLYAMORY WITH ALL OF THEM AND THE READER…

...Except with Bruce, sorry Batman, you're cute but it feels weird to get involved with the sons and at the same time with their dad…

...and OBVIOUSLY I'm talking about AgedUp! Damian Wayne

Recommend fanfics, drabbles, headcanons, it doesn't matter, just feed my craving for a batboys harem :(

(someone teach me how to make that 3 frame aesthetic on tumblr, I literally made these things on canva xd)

#yandere batboys #x reader #reverse harem #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #silly thoughts in the morning #duke thomas x reader #terry mcginnis x reader #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #english not my first language #CHATGPT translated into English

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cheriecelestial · 16 days ago

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Fitoor Pt.II

pairing *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Yandere! Batboys x fem! Desi!reader

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ swearing. fluff. crack.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Okay so this did take a lot longer than it should've. Sorry abt that. And like always Comment, Reblog and Like (☆��▽^) Also credit to my co-writer/beta reader @swamiiyasssss ilysm🤍🤍

╰ ┈➤ ·:*:·゜Chapter list Pt.I Pt.III

Y/N wanted to crawl into her own skin. She felt exposed, like he’d been playing some elaborate game she hadn’t even realized she was a part of. But she refused to let him see how much it rattled her. She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

“Y’know,” he continued in that cool, quiet drawl, “When I saw your name as a short-listed candidate, I really felt Luke was slipping off his game.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she refused to let him see how much his words stung. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “And yet, here I am. Funny how that works.”

Tim’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider, like he was enjoying this little back-and-forth far too much. “You said I wanted something.”

“No, I asked if you wanted anything,” Y/N snapped back, her patience wearing thin. “In case you—”

“I what? Leak your little outburst to the board of directors? Please.” He rolled his eyes. “They have corporate profits and stocks to worry about, let alone Little Miss Perfect here with her stellar portfolio and even more stellar workplace professionalism.”

Y/N grabbed the opportunity to gain the upper hand—or at least feel like she had it. “So you think my portfolio’s ‘stellar’?”

That seemed to catch him off guard, but in his usual infuriating manner, he swiftly countered. “Luke does. I think it’s… decent.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down. “ That’s high praise coming from you.”

Tim leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the smirk faded, replaced by something almost serious. “Don’t let it go to your head sweetheart. You’re here because you’re just that, decent, not because you’re the best.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, but she forced herself to stay calm. “And yet you’re the one who wanted me to work directly with you. So, what does that say about your standards?”

Tim’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly. “It says I’m willing to take a chance on someone who might—might—have potential. Don’t make me regret it.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. “I won’t. But if you’re going to make this difficult, just know I’m not backing down.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

The tension in the room was palpable, but Y/N refused to break eye contact. She wasn’t going to let him win this little power play. Not now, not ever.

“Because, miss L/N,” She despised the way her name rolled off his tongue so naturally. “I have finally decided what I want.”

Tim put the tips of his fingers together as if in preparation to say something of great importance. “Since you’re an intern—and let’s be honest, grad school interns don’t really do much—I’ve decided to give you a… unique role.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of role?”

“You’ll be my on-field secretary,” he said, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather. “You’ll handle basic tasks—scheduling, note-taking, that kind of thing. The heavy lifting will still be done by my actual secretary, who prefers to stay in the office. But the rest of the time, you’ll have a free pass to work with the teams on high-profile projects. The kind of work you really want to do.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. Working on high-profile projects was exactly what she’d been hoping for, but she knew her lack of experience would normally keep her far away from those opportunities. This was a chance to prove herself and to really see what it was like.

But then his words sank in. On-field secretary? Basic tasks?

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re giving me the chance to work on high-profile projects, but only if I play secretary for you part-time?”

“That’s the gist of it. Unless…” He paused, tilting his head as if considering her. “You think yourself above it? That attitude of yours sure screams something.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, her patience wearing thin. “I’m just trying to understand why you’re offering me this… arrangement.”

Tim shrugged, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Call it a gesture of goodwill. Or maybe I just like keeping an eye on you. Either way, it’s a win-win. You get to work on the projects you’re dying to be a part of, and I get… Well, let’s just say I get to keep things interesting.”

Y/N glared at him, her mind racing. On one hand, this was an incredible opportunity. On the other, it meant spending more time with him.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone clipped. “But if you think I’m going to be your glorified errand girl, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Tim barked a laugh, the sound rich and infuriating. “I have a professional secretary for that. You’ll just be… my shadow. Think of it as a learning experience.”

“Oh, fantastic,” she muttered under her breath, “A front-row seat to your unparalleled genius.” She wasn’t usually this brazen, especially with authority figures, but between his age and his insufferable personality, she couldn’t bring herself to take him seriously—professionalism be damned.

Tim’s grin didn’t falter in the least and grew wider, like he was enjoying her frustration far too much. “Also, since I’m your boss, you are now to refer to me as sir. Is that clear, Miss Secretary?”

Y/N's hands clenched at her sides. “Yes…” Her voice came out strained, and the next words even more so. “...Sir.”

Tim’s smile was triumphant, his voice almost giddy as he sank back in his chair. “Good. Now off you go. My other secretary is at the desk. She’ll brief you on your new duties.”

Y/N turned on her heel and walked out of the room, a bitter taste in her mouth. This was so not how she’d planned for anything to go. She wanted to run as far away from him and this situation as possible, but she knew she couldn’t. This was her chance—her big break—and she wasn’t about to let this son of a bitch ruin it for her.

Y/N made her way to the secretary’s desk, her jaw still clenched and her pride still stinging. The secretary, Margaret Hayes, was a no-nonsense woman in her late thirties with sharp eyes and an even sharper demeanor. She looked up as Y/N approached, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild sympathy.

“You must be Y/N,” Margaret said, her tone brisk but not unkind. “Mr. Drake-Wayne said you’d be joining us. Have a seat.”

Y/N sat down, forcing a polite smile. “Yes, I’m supposed to be… shadowing you, I guess?”

Margaret nodded, sliding a tablet across the desk. “You’ll be handling some of Mr. Drake-Wayne’s on-field tasks—scheduling, note-taking, managing his calendar during site visits, that sort of thing. I’ll walk you through the basics.”

Y/N picked up the tablet, her stomach sinking as Margaret began explaining the intricacies of Tim’s schedule. There were color-coded calendars, priority levels, and a seemingly endless list of protocols for how to handle everything from last-minute meeting changes to his very specific coffee preferences, something she was more than familiar with.

Noticing her eyes linger on the coffee order, Margaret spoke up. “Mr. Drake-Wayne is… particular. If you’re on-site with him and he requests coffee, you must know exactly how he takes it and where to get it. He insists it comes from a small backwater café called Sip and Savour and apparently, there’s only one barista who makes it just right.”

Y/N swallowed hard, recognizing exactly who the barista in question was. “I think I know who that is. Pretty sure that barista quit. I’m a regular there,” she lied smoothly.

Margaret gave her a scrutinizing look before responding dryly, “I see. I’ll inform Mr. Drake-Wayne and find out how he wants to proceed.”

As Margaret scrolled through the tablet with practiced efficiency, Y/N listened intently, absorbing every detail. The woman clearly knew Tim’s schedule inside and out, and Y/N had no doubt she’d have to be just as sharp to keep up.

“Now, a few key things to remember,” Margaret continued. “Mr. Drake-Wayne doesn’t appreciate being interrupted unless it’s absolutely necessary. If there’s a change in the schedule, you’ll run it by me first before bringing it to him. Understood?”

Y/N nodded. “Got it.”

Margaret’s lips twitched in what could almost be amusement. “Good. As for his meetings—he doesn’t like them running overtime, so you’ll need to be assertive when wrapping them up. Some of the execs can be… persistent, but trust me, he’ll back you up if you hold your ground.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “So I’m supposed to keep billionaires on a tight leash?”

The older woman smirked. “Essentially. Think you can handle that?”

She honestly had no idea. But she nodded anyway.

“Bhenchod.”

For those unfamiliar with the term, it’s a word deeply rooted in the vernacular of India’s capital city, Delhi. Technically, it translates to “sisterfucker,” but its usage extends far beyond its literal meaning. Bhenchod is an emotion, a linguistic tool to add weight and intensity to a statement. It’s one of the most potent, versatile, and yet oddly innocuous slangs known to mankind—a word that resonates deeply with the populace who use it.

A quick Google search for the term reveals an ocean of information, ranging from the trivial to the profound. Yet, almost all sources point to one undeniable truth: this remarkable slang has been a reliable outlet for venting frustration, anger, and distress for generations. Simply put, there’s hardly a match for it—not just in English, but in any other language.

And frustration, anger, and distress were exactly what Vanshita L/N and Y/N L/N were experiencing.

“You’re telling me that vo chutiya mendhak who’s been messing with you is Bruce Wayne’s son? Bhai, matlab kya? Aur tujhe pata kaise nahi tha?” Vani groaned, her head in her hands as she processed the absurdity of the situation. that fucking frog / Bro, I mean what? / And how did you not know? Who could’ve thought that the annoying customer from the coffee shop was someone of such high importance?

Y/N, sprawled face-down on her bed, let out a scream into her pillow. “I didn’t even know that Kim Kardashian isn’t black until like three years ago,” she half-sobbed, her voice dripping with despair.

Vani sighed, shaking her head as she leaned back against the headboard, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Chal, baap toh samajh aata hai, cuz his Met Gala fit honestly slayed so hard last year. But like, you were going to work for his company. Uggh. How did you not recognize him?” Okay, I get the dad because his Met Gala fit honestly slayed so hard last year.

“How do you expect me to memorize the faces of Gotham socialites and their sons? It’s not like I stalk their Instagrams or read Gotham Gazette for fun! That’s enough. Didi, mai marne jaa rahi hoo,” Y/N wailed melodramatically, burying her face deeper into the pillow. Her voice was muffled, but the sheer drama in her tone was impossible to miss. Didi, I’m going to die.

Vani rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Kaha? Chowpatty pe?” Where? At Chowpatty Beach?

Y/N rolled onto her back, kicking her legs in the air as if trying to shake off the frustration. “Nahi, Gotham Harbour,” she declared, her voice thick with determination. No

Vani raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Lekin Mala, raat ko Gotham Harbour ka pani thanda hota hai na? Tum kal dopahar ko dhai baje, uss samay paani garam hoga. Aasani se upar nikal jaogi. Takleef bhi nahi hogi zyada. Hai na?” But Mala, the water at Gotham Harbour is cold at night, right? You should go tomorrow afternoon at 2:30 PM, when the water is warm. You’ll pass away easily. It won’t even hurt much. Right? (a reference to the 2010 bollywood movie Action Replayy)

Y/N sat up abruptly, glaring at her sister. “Chiiiii! Why would I drown in lukewarm Gotham Harbour water? Do you know how filthy that shit is? It’s probably full of toxic waste and who knows what else!” Ewww

“Then sneak into Wayne Manor and drown in their pool. The water is clean, and you’ll be able to maybe pin a murder charge on them. Imagine the headlines: ‘Intern Found Dead in Wayne Manor Pool—Mystery Surrounds Tragic End.’ It’s poetic, really.”

Y/N stared at her, torn between laughter and disbelief. “Didi, you’re supposed to be helping me, not giving me ideas on how to frame Tim Drake Wayne for my murder.”

Vani grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “Hey, I’m just saying. If you’re going to go out, might as well make it dramatic. Besides, think about it—you’d be doing the world a favor. Taking down the Wayne family from beyond the grave? That’s some next-level revenge.”

Y/N groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed with all the flair of a heroine in distress. “I hate you,” she declared, though her tone lacked any real venom.

Vani stayed unfazed. “But in all honesty, you need to concentrate on yourself. Look, I know men like him—they want to see you squirm, all hot and bothered. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Y/N propped herself up on her elbows, her expression skeptical. “So essentially, I become the perfect secretary and do exactly as he says? That’s your brilliant plan?”

“Yup,” Vani replied, popping the ‘p’ with a grin. “He’ll test you, but don’t break. Just think of him as the aunties at family functions. You got around them, didn’t you? This white boy can’t do shit to you, hmm?”

Y/N frowned, her voice softening. “But at family functions, I had you, Didi. Without you, I don’t know if I can maintain the same composure.”

Vani sighed, her heart tightening at the vulnerability in her sister’s voice. How she wished she could just reach over, brush that strand of hair out of Y/N’s face and hug her. “Agar mere haath me hota toh, I’d catch the next flight to Gotham aur uss ghatiya aadmi ko mai khud aake pel deti. But I can’t, not yet at least. Just four more months, Y/N. Then I’ll be right there.” If it were up to me then, I’d catch the next flight to Gotham and personally kick that jerk’s ass.

Y/N’s voice dropped to a whisper, her words heavy with emotion. “Didi, I miss you.”

It was a simple statement, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid. Y/N didn’t miss anyone like she missed her sister. Their late-night cooking sessions, cutting bangs at two in the morning, spilling family gossip, stupid shenanigans, going on drives together—she missed all of it so, so much. But she rarely expressed it, knowing how much it would affect Vani.

Vani’s expression softened, her usual sharp edges melting away. “I miss you too, baccha. More than you know.”

Y/N looked away, her throat tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard without you. You’ve always been my shield, my person. And now I’m here, dealing with this… this mendhak all by myself.” frog

“Listen to me. You’re stronger than you think. You’ve always been. And you don’t need me to handle some spoiled rich boy. You’ve got this, Y/N. Our ancestors didn’t die for you to crack under a white dude. Just stay calm, stay focused, and don’t let him see you sweat.”

Y/N nodded, her resolve hardening. “Okay. But if he tries anything—”

“Remember what I taught you,” Vani interrupted, her tone firm. “Crotch, Solar Plexus and Throat. Got it?”

Y/N smiled, a small but genuine one, as she recalled the lessons Vani had drilled into her years ago. “Got it.”

Y/N walked into Wayne Enterprises with her head held high, her heels clicking confidently against the polished marble floor. The lobby buzzed with activity—employees rushing to meetings, security guards scanning badges, and the faint sounds of conversation filling the air. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the plan she'd crafted the night before.

Step one: Don't let Tim get under your skin.

Step two: Prove you're more than just a secretary.

Step three: Show him you're not someone he can mess with.

She made her way to the elevator, nodding politely at a few familiar faces from her first day. When the doors slid open, she stepped inside, pressing the button for the 42nd floor—the Architecture and R&D department. As the elevator ascended, Y/N's mind wandered back to her conversation with Vani. Her sister's words echoed in her head: “No one messes with my little sister and gets away with it. Not even Bruce Wayne's brat.”

The memory brought a small smile to her lips, and she felt a surge of determination. When the elevator doors opened, Y/N stepped out into the sleek, modern office space. The Architecture and R&D department was a hive of activity, with designers hunched over blueprints, engineers discussing prototypes, and interns scurrying around with coffee cups in hand. She spotted Margaret at her desk, typing away on her computer. The older woman looked up as Y/N approached, her sharp eyes scanning her with a mix of curiosity and approval.

“Morning,” Margaret said, her tone brisk but not unkind. “You're early. I like that.”

Y/N smiled. “I figured I'd get a head start. Is there anything specific you need me to do today?”

Margaret handed her a tablet. “Mr. Drake-Wayne has a site visit at 10 AM. You’ll be accompanying him to take notes and manage any last-minute changes to the schedule. Make sure you’re prepared—he doesn’t like surprises.”

Y/N nodded, her stomach fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. This was her chance to prove herself. “Got it. Anything else?” Margaret hesitated for a moment, then leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. “Just... be careful. He’s not an easy person to work with, but if you can handle him, you’ll do just fine here.”

Y/N nodded again, this time more determined. “Thanks, Margaret. I’ll keep that in mind.”

At 9:45 AM, Y/N stood outside Tim’s office, her tablet in hand and her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, straightened her blazer, and knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” Tim’s voice called from inside. Y/N pushed the door open and stepped inside. Tim was sitting at his desk, his attention focused on the laptop in front of him. He didn’t look up as she entered, but she could see the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Good morning, sir,” she said, her tone professional but firm.

“We have a site visit in 15 minutes. I’ve reviewed the schedule and prepared the necessary documents. Is there anything else you need before we leave?” Tim finally looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers with that mirth of amusement. “Good morning, Miss Y/N. You’re early. Impressive.”

Y/N forced a polite smile. “I like to be prepared.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Good. Because today’s going to be a long day. Let’s see if you can keep up.” Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she refused to let him see how much his words rattled her. “I’ll do my best, sir.” Tim stood, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

“Then let’s get going. And remember—no mistakes.”

The car ride to the construction site was silent, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional tap of Y/N’s stylus against her tablet as she double-checked the project specs. Tim sat beside her, his gaze fixed out the window, his expression unreadable. The tension between them was thick, but Y/N refused to let it distract her.

When they arrived, the site foreman greeted them with a firm handshake. “Mr. Drake-Wayne, everything’s on schedule. We’ve hit a few minor snags with the steel delivery, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Tim nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling site. “Show me.”

Y/N followed closely, jotting down notes and snapping photos of the areas Tim inspected. He moved with precision, asking pointed questions that left the foreman scrambling for answers more than once. She could see the frustration building in the man’s expression, but Tim didn’t relent.

At one point, he stopped near a half-finished support beam, running a gloved hand along the edge. “This isn’t the grade we specified.”

The foreman hesitated. “There was a substitution approved by—”

“By who?” Tim cut in, his voice dangerously calm.

Y/N quickly pulled up the procurement logs on her tablet. “According to the records, the change was signed off by Mr. Henshaw in procurement. It was flagged as a cost-saving measure.”

Tim didn’t look at her, but she saw the slight tightening of his jaw. “Get Henshaw on the phone. Now.”

The foreman paled but nodded, stepping away to make the call.

Tim finally turned to Y/N, his gaze piercing. “You caught that fast.”

She met his eyes evenly. “I reviewed the files last night. I know the specs.”

A slow smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. “Good. Because if you hadn’t, I’d have had to reconsider your position.”

Y/N didn’t flinch. “Lucky for both of us, then.”

His smirk deepened, but before he could respond, the foreman returned, phone in hand. “Mr. Henshaw’s on the line.”

Tim took the phone, his voice dropping into that deceptively smooth tone that always meant trouble for someone. “Henshaw. Explain to me why my project is being built with subpar materials.”

Y/N watched as he walked a few paces away, his posture relaxed but his words razor-sharp. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

No mistakes.

However as it turned out, Timothy Drake Wayne seemed to have every intention of making her his glorified errand girl—a pattern that had persisted for days, then weeks, growing more blatant with each passing task. At first, his demands had been subtle, wrapped in the guise of professional necessity. She hadn’t even realized what was happening until much later, when all of it finally settled in on her. Alone in the privacy of her home, she had groaned in frustration, cry into her pillow, bury her face in her hands, only to emerge the next morning with that same polished, unshakable smile. If he wanted professionalism, then fine—she would give him nothing less.

But as the weeks dragged on, Tim shed any pretense of subtlety. His requests became bolder, his tone sharper, his expectations more unreasonable. He’s frustrated, a voice in the back of her mind whispered, smug. That means you’re winning. And yet, despite her silent victories, the reality remained: he was still getting exactly what he wanted, while she was left gritting her teeth behind a carefully maintained facade. Oh, she wasn’t losing—technically, he was holding up his end of their unspoken bargain—but that didn’t make his behavior any less insufferable.

Then, just yesterday, he had crossed a new line. With that infuriatingly casual arrogance, he had informed her that his preferred barista had quit, and since she was already at his beck and call, he would very much appreciate it if she could make him a cup of coffee. That was the moment something inside her snapped—not in anger, but in quiet, devious inspiration.

A slow smile curled at the edges of her lips. Oh, I’ll make you a drink, alright.

“Sir,” she said smoothly, tilting her head just slightly. “How about I make you a cup of tea instead?”

Tim’s brows furrowed for a fraction of a second, clearly thrown by the counteroffer. But after a brief pause, he shrugged. “Fine. Just make sure it’s strong.”

Oh, it’ll be strong, she thought as she turned on her heel, heading toward the staff kitchen on their floor. Strong enough to knock you on your ass.

She had been subjected to his pathetic, watered-down excuse for tea far too many times to let this opportunity pass. Over the past few weeks, thanks to his insistence that she clock in early—cutting into her precious morning routine—she had adapted. No longer able to enjoy her usual chai ritual at home, she had taken to smuggling her own supplies into the office: a small tin of pre-ground spices, a knob of fresh ginger, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing that, at least for a few minutes each day, she could reclaim something just for herself.

The kettle whistled sharply, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as steam curled into the air. She poured the boiling tea into a mug, the rich aroma of ginger, cardamom and all the other spices already rising from the spice blend she’d stirred in. Followed by a careful stir—just enough to make it smooth but flawless —and then, with a final glance to ensure no one was watching, she added an extra pinch of black pepper for good measure.

Let Gotham's golden child try to call this “just tea” now, she mused, stirring the concoction with the deliberate care of a chemist perfecting a volatile compound. The aroma alone was potent enough to clear sinuses - warm, earthy, and carrying just enough heat to promise consequences.

Balancing the mug with practiced ease, she navigated the corridor back to Tim's office, her measured footsteps belying the electric anticipation coursing through her. The steam rising from the cup left a spicy trail in her wake, like breadcrumbs marking the path to her small rebellion. Through the glass walls, she could see him hunched over his workstation, fingers flying across the keyboard with that characteristic Drake-Wayne intensity that made interns quake in their loafers.

“Your tea, sir,” she announced, setting the mug on a coaster with exaggerated care, her voice the picture of professional deference. The corner of his mouth twitched in acknowledgment, one hand reaching blindly for the beverage while his eyes remained glued to his screen.

The moment the liquid touched his lips, time seemed to suspend.

First came the subtle widening of his eyes - blue irises flashing with sudden alarm. Then his throat convulsed as the full force of the spices hit his unprepared palate. A strangled sound escaped him as he jerked forward, the mug hitting the desk with enough force to send a dark droplet splashing onto a quarterly report.

“Christ-” he rasped, grabbing for a tissue as his eyes streamed. The usually immaculate Timothy Drake-Wayne was reduced to spluttering indignity, his fair skin flushing from collar to hairline. “What in the nine hells was that?”

Y/N tilted her head, the picture of innocent concern. “Oh dear, was it too warm? I did let it cool and stirred it clockwise seven times as per your usual preference.” Her fingers twitched toward the mug. “Shall I fetch some water to dilute it?”

“Warm?” His voice cracked mid-word. “This isn't tea, this is- this is-” He broke off, fanning his mouth as another wave of heat hit him. “Did you grind up cayenne peppers and call it a beverage?”

“Proper masala chai, actually,” she corrected smoothly, unable to suppress the tiny smirk playing at her lips. “A family recipe. Though I did modify the proportions slightly to suit your request for something... robust.”

His glare could have melted steel. “Robust? This is a biological hazard. I can feel my esophagus reconstructing itself.”

She allowed herself a small, graceful shrug. “You did insist on strength over subtlety, sir. I merely took you at your word.” The unspoken challenge hung between them, as potent as the spices still burning his tongue. Serves you right bitch.

The office air crackled with tension as Tim studied her through still-watering eyes. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pushed the mug across the polished surface until it stopped directly before her. “By all means,” he said, voice deceptively light, “demonstrate how this is meant to be consumed.”

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N lifted the cup to her lips and took a long, deliberate swallow. The heat bloomed across her tongue - familiar, comforting, like her grandmother's kitchen on winter mornings. She made a show of savoring the flavor, sighing contentedly before setting it down with a soft clink. “Mmm. Just the right balance, if I do say so myself.”

Tim's expression morphed through several fascinating iterations - disbelief, outrage, reluctant admiration - before settling on something dangerously amused. “You're enjoying this,” he accused, though there was a new note in his voice that hadn't been there before.

“Enjoying what, Mr. Drake-Wayne?” She blinked owlishly. “Providing exemplary service as always.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then, to her utter astonishment, Tim threw his head back and laughed - a real, unguarded sound that transformed his usually composed features. “You're absolutely impossible,” he declared, though the words lacked their usual bite.

“And yet,” she countered, emboldened by his reaction, “you haven't fired me.”

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly, and regarded her with something perilously close to respect. “Next time,” he said, pointing a warning finger, “you lead with 'this will melt your face off' before handing me something.”

Y/N retrieved the mug, her fingers lingering on the warm ceramic. “Where would be the fun in that?” she murmured, turning toward the door. Behind her, she could feel his gaze following, and for the first time since taking this position, she wondered if she'd finally found the chink in Timothy Drake-Wayne's polished armor.

The moment Y/N stepped out of Wayne Enterprises’ towering glass doors, she exhaled deeply, as if shedding the weight of Tim’s impossible expectations along with her blazer. The Gotham evening air was thick with the usual blend of exhaust fumes and impending rain, but to her, it smelled like freedom—at least for the next few hours.

She made a quick detour to her dorm, swapping her stiff corporate attire for something far more forgiving—a soft knit sweater, well-worn jeans, and boots that had seen better days. After tossing her work bag onto her bed, she grabbed her favorite oversized tote, already stuffed with a well-loved paperback and a small pouch of cat treats.

Her second job—if it could even be called that—was less of a necessity and more of a sanctuary. The Velvet Paw, a hybrid bookshop and cat café tucked away in one of Gotham’s quieter corners, was a world apart from the cutthroat corporate environment she endured during the day. The café was the passion project of Selina Kyle, a woman whose name carried weight in Gotham’s elite circles, though Y/N had long stopped caring about that. To her, Selina was simply the woman who had given her a haven when she needed it most.

The café itself was a relic of warmth in a city that thrived on cold ambition. Shelves of secondhand books lined the walls, their spines cracked, and pages yellowed with age. Plush armchairs were occupied by both patrons and feline residents, the latter often commandeering laps without permission. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and vanilla candles mingled in the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, caffeinated urgency of Wayne Enterprises.

When Y/N pushed through the door, the soft chime announcing her arrival, her coworker—a perpetually cheerful art student named Lila—waved from behind the counter. “Hey, you’re just in time,” Lila said, nodding toward the far corner. “MissSelina is here.”

Y/N’s face lit up. Selina’s visits were rare but always a highlight. There she was, draped in effortless elegance, seated at her usual corner table with a cup of black coffee and a small entourage of cats vying for her attention. Even in something as simple as a fitted turtleneck and tailored slacks, Selina exuded a magnetism that made it impossible to look away.

Y/N approached with a grin, her steps light. “Good evening, didi,” she greeted, the term slipping out before she could stop it.

The first time she’d called Selina that, it had been an accident—a moment of exhaustion-induced nostalgia. But instead of correcting her, Selina had merely arched a brow and asked, “Didi?” Y/N had explained, cheeks burning, that it was an endearment back home, reserved for older sisters or women who felt like family. Selina had listened, sipped her coffee, and then said, “Well then, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

Now, Selina’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Good evening, dear. How was your day?”

“Survived,” Y/N replied dryly, scooping up a particularly insistent tabby from the chair opposite Selina before taking a seat. The cat immediately reclaimed its spot in her lap, purring like a tiny engine.

Selina’s sharp eyes didn’t miss much. “That bad?”

“Let’s just say my boss is lucky I don’t believe in workplace violence.”

Selina laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Ah, those corporate sleazeballs. Always so… particular.” She took a sip of her coffee before gesturing to a small carrier beside her. “Speaking of particular—I come bearing gifts.”

Y/N peered inside. A rotte, butterball of a cat with golden-brown fur blinked up at her with an expression that suggested he was already judging her life choices. Beside him, curled into a tiny ball, was a fragile-looking white kitten, its ribs too visible beneath its fur.

Y/N’s heart clenched. “Selina…”

“I know we’re at capacity,” Selina admitted, stroking the kitten’s head with surprising gentleness. “But well—”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, fingers still buried in the thick fur of the golden-brown cat, who had now sprawled across the table like a contented monarch. “With all due respect, didi, you own the place,” she pointed out, amusement coloring her tone. “I don’t think you need my permission to bring in more cats.”

Selina’s lips curved into a smile, her emerald eyes alight with something warm and genuine—a rare sight for a woman who usually moved with calculated grace. “That’s incredibly sweet of you,” she said, reaching over to scratch behind the ears of the frail white kitten still cradled in Y/N’s other hand. “But you know it’s more than that. You love them the same way I do. It…” She paused, her gaze softening as she watched the kitten nuzzle into Y/N’s palm. “It makes me happy, knowing they’re cared for like this.”

There was a weight to her words, an unspoken history that Y/N had learned not to pry into. Selina’s affection for strays—feline or otherwise—ran deeper than simple philanthropy.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Y/N replied honestly, her thumb brushing gently over the kitten’s tiny head. “And I could never mind more additions to the family. The more, the merrier.” She tilted her head, curiosity sparking. “So, where did you find them?”

Selina leaned back in her chair, the ghost of a smirk playing at her lips. “Actually, my boyfriend’s son found them. He already has enough pets at home, and he wasn’t sure his father would approve of two more.”

Ah. That explained it.

Selina’s long-term boyfriend—a man Y/N had never met but whose presence loomed large in snippets of conversation—was apparently as much a soft touch for strays as Selina herself. From what Y/N had gathered over time, their relationship was… complicated. On-again, off-again, full of unspoken rules and a mutual understanding that seemed to transcend traditional labels. She’d never understood how anyone could date a woman like Selina Kyle and not marry her at the first opportunity, but then again, Selina wasn’t the kind of woman who fit neatly into societal expectations.

What was clear, though, was how deeply she cared for his family—especially his children. The boy, whose name Selina never mentioned outright, as if protecting his identity even in casual conversation, had contributed just as many furry residents to the café as Selina herself.

Y/N grinned. “Let me guess—this isn’t the first time he’s brought you a ‘just this one, I promise’ case?”

Selina’s laughter was rich, melodic. “Not even close.”

The chubby golden cat chose that moment to roll onto his back, paws batting playfully at the air, as if demanding attention. Y/N obliged, scratching his belly. “So, what are their names?”

“Oh, they don’t have any yet,” Selina said breezily, swirling her coffee. “Feel free to name them.”

Y/N’s breath caught. Name them? That was a privilege usually reserved for Selina or—on rare occasions—her boyfriend’s son. The realization sent a flicker of warmth through her chest.

“I’d love to,” she said, already mentally running through possibilities. The golden one, with his regal bearing and demanding demeanor, could be—

“Oh, and also—” Selina interrupted her thoughts, reaching into her sleek designer bag. A moment later, she placed a small, velvet-black box on the table between them.

Y/N’s fingers stilled on the cat’s fur.

“Open it,” Selina said, her voice casual, but her eyes sharp—watching, waiting.

Y/N hesitated. The box was too small for jewelry, too elegant for something mundane. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she slowly reached for it, Selina’s gaze heavy on her skin.

With a slow exhale, she lifted the lid.

Nestled inside, gleaming under the soft golden lights of The Velvet Paw, was a watch.

Not just any watch.

The brand was Italian, the name etched in delicate script along the inner bezel—a name she recognized from storefronts she’d never dared enter, from magazines that featured price tags with more digits than her rent. The design was understated but immaculate: a silver band with a face neither too large nor too delicate, the hands moving with a quiet, precise elegance. The kind of timepiece that belonged on the wrists of Gotham’s elite, not on someone who still budgeted for instant noodles.

Her throat tightened.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from the way the light caught on the silver numerals.

Selina’s smile was knowing. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “Me?”

“I heard you got the internship,” Selina continued, leaning back in her chair with effortless poise. “After all those late nights studying, all those applications you agonized over—you think I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her head, her gaze softening. “You earned this.”

Y/N’s fingers twitched, aching to touch it, to feel the weight of it on her wrist—but she recoiled as if burned. “No. No. I can’t accept something like this. It’s—” She gestured helplessly at the watch. “Look at it. It probably costs more than my tuition.”

Selina sighed, folding her arms on the table. The movement was casual, but there was a firmness in her tone that brooked no argument. “You know what’s worth more than this watch?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You. The hours you’ve spent here. The way you treat these strays as if they’re your own. The care you put into this place—my place—even when you’re exhausted from your other job. That’s priceless.” Her voice dropped, just a fraction, into something almost tender. “Consider it a thank-you. And before you argue,” she added, raising a perfectly manicured finger, “ask yourself: Could you really reject this and break your poor didi’s heart?”

The words were playful, but the look in Selina’s eyes was anything but.

Y/N swallowed hard, her chest aching with something she couldn’t name. Gratitude? Guilt? The overwhelming sense that, for the first time in a long time, someone had seen her—really seen her—and decided she was worth this?

Her fingers trembled as she finally reached for the watch, the metal cool against her skin. It fit perfectly. Of course it did. Selina didn’t do things by halves.

When she looked up, her vision was suspiciously blurry.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice thick. Two words—too small, too inadequate—but they were all she could manage without her voice cracking.

Selina’s smile was worth more than the watch could ever be. “You’re welcome sweetheart.”

And just like that, the watch became more than an accessory.

It was a promise.

A reminder.

That she belonged somewhere in a way that mattered.

The white kitten— newly christened— batted playfully at the golden-brown cat’s tail while Y/N measured out their evening meal. “There you go Pari and Aloo,” she cooed, setting down two ceramic bowls. The mismatched pair immediately abandoned their game in favor of dinner.

“Pari and Aloo? How is it fair that one is called fairy and the other potato. It’s disappointing to bias names based on appearance. All felines are deserving of dignified names, I believe.”

The sudden voice behind her made Y/N start so violently she nearly dropped the entire container of treats. Whirling around, she found herself face-to-face with a familiar scowling preteen.

“Damian!” she exhaled, pressing a hand to her pounding heart. “Do you always materialize like that? One of these days I’m going to—”

“You’ve been saying that since November,” the boy interrupted smoothly, his green eyes flicking between the cats with undisguised judgment. “Yet your reflexes remain disappointingly slow.”

Damian had been visiting The Velvet Paw with clockwork regularity since Y/N’s first week. Unlike most twelve-year-olds who came to pet cats between video games and sugar rushes, he moved through the café with the solemn dignity of a Victorian naturalist cataloging specimens. Their relationship had settled into an easy rhythm of shared silences, occasional literary debates and mutual appreciation for feline company. In Gotham’s constant chaos, she’d come to cherish their quiet interactions.

“I didn’t know you understood Hindi,” Y/N observed, studying his features anew. The warm undertones of his complexion, the slight curve of his nose – traits that had made her wonder before about possible South Asian heritage.

“You never asked,” he replied with characteristic bluntness, though his posture relaxed marginally as Aloo butted against his shins. “My mother is Arab-Chinese. Hindi and Urdu are commonly spoken where she resides.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. Personal revelations from Damian were rarer than a calm night in Gotham. She filed this one away carefully.

“So what would you prefer then, your highness?” she teased, gesturing to the golden cat now sprawled regally across Damian’s designer sneakers. “Does Badshah-e-Alam suit his majesty better?” Emperor of the universe

Damian’s nose wrinkled. “Hardly. That pretentious stray couldn’t rule a cardboard box.” Yet even as he scoffed, Y/N didn’t miss the careful way his fingers checked Aloo for mats behind the ears – or how the usually aloof cat permitted the inspection without protest.

“Well,” Y/N said, hiding a smile by reorganizing the treat jars, “until you deign to suggest alternatives, Potato he remains.” She tossed a treat toward Pari, who ate the treat without any reservation. “And our little fairy seems perfectly content with her name.”

Damian made a noncommittal noise that Y/N had learned meant reluctant acquiescence. As she watched him surreptitiously feed Aloo an extra treat from his pocket, it struck her again how this guarded, brilliant boy reminded her so much of the strays they both loved – all prickly exteriors masking unexpected softness.

“You’ll spoil him rotten,” she murmured, though the admonishment held no real heat. The sight of Gotham’s most intimidating twelve-year-old being wrapped around a chubby tabby’s paw never failed to amuse her.

Damian’s spine straightened immediately, his mask of indifference snapping back into place. “Nonsense. Proper nutrition is essential for—”

But Aloo chose that moment to headbutt Damian’s knee with enough force to make the boy stumble, his carefully cultivated dignity crumbling under feline insistence. Y/N turned away under the pretense of rearranging mugs to give him privacy as he muttered what sounded suspiciously like endearments in what she now recognized as Arabic-inflected Hindi.

When she glanced back, Damian had retreated to his customary corner table— the one tucked between the philosophy section and the emergency exit with optimal sightlines of all entrances. His sketchbook was already open, charcoal moving in precise strokes that somehow captured the essence of cats' energy, some quiet some playful, even in rough outlines.

Y/N moved to the special tea cabinet behind the counter – the locked one where Selina kept the imported Darjeeling first flush and the small tin of Kashmiri saffron strands that cost more than most customers’ monthly rent. The ritual was familiar by now: warming the porcelain cup exactly 38 seconds before pouring, measuring the saffron threads with surgical precision, adding just enough honey to enhance rather than overwhelm.

The resulting brew shimmered like liquid gold in the afternoon light, the aroma alone enough to transport her momentarily back to her home. She carried it over without ceremony, setting it on the far corner of Damian’s table where it wouldn’t interfere with his sketching space.

“Your usual,” she said softly, already turning to leave.

Damian’s hand shot out with surprising speed, his fingers brushing the cup’s rim in silent thanks before retreating just as quickly. It was more acknowledgment than most patrons ever received. Y/N hid her smile as she walked away, giving him the solitude he preferred but so rarely seemed to get.

The café's wall clock ticked past 9:45 PM, its rhythmic clicking the only sound breaking the comfortable silence. Golden lamplight pooled around Damian's corner table like a protective halo, illuminating the growing collection of crumpled paper surrounding him. Y/N moved through the dim space with practiced quietness, her socked feet making no sound against the hardwood as she righted chairs and wiped down tables.

Most of the feline residents had long since retreated to their preferred sleeping spots – Mr. Whiskers curled in his heated bed by the register, Duchess sprawled across three cushions in the bay window. Only Aloo remained stubbornly awake, his tail flicking in time with Damian's increasingly frustrated charcoal strokes.

“Artist's block?” Y/N ventured softly, pausing by his table with a fresh pot of zafrani.

Damian's jaw tightened, his charcoal-smudged fingers freezing mid-stroke. For a long moment, Y/N thought he might ignore her completely – until his pencil snapped with an audible crack.

“No matter what I draw,” he ground out, voice uncharacteristically raw, “I can't make it work.” The admission seemed to cost him, his shoulders hunching slightly as if bracing for judgment.

Y/N set the teapot down with deliberate care, sliding into the chair opposite him. Without asking permission, she began gathering the discarded sketches, smoothing each crumpled sheet with the side of her hand. The drawings took her breath away – a sleeping Pari rendered in such delicate strokes the page seemed to breathe, a stunning chiaroscuro study of the café's front window at golden hour, even a few candid sketches of herself lost in thought behind the counter, steam curling from a teacup in her hands.

“You keep them,” Damian said suddenly, watching as she carefully tucked the papers into her canvas tote. It wasn't quite a question.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing the worn leather cover of her journal before pulling it free. “Go through it,” she said, pushing the book across the table.

Damian's brows drew together as he flipped open the cover. His breath caught. Page after page contained his own discarded work – every abandoned sketch, every 'failed' study from months of visits, all carefully preserved and dated in Y/N's neat script.

“Why?” The word came out softer than he likely intended, his usual sharpness dulled by genuine confusion.

Y/N traced the journal's frayed edges, choosing her words with care. “Back home, I have a younger cousin – about your age, actually. Brilliant artist, same relentless perfectionism.” A fond smile touched her lips. “She'd spend hours weeping over 'ruined' drawings because one line wasn't exactly right.”

She turned to a particular page where Damian had angrily crossed out a stunning portrait of a person Y/N didn't recognize but from the looks of it she held resemblance to Damian. “I started keeping these for her. So she could look back and see how far she'd come. How even the pieces she hated had beautiful moments.” Her finger hovered over a particularly expressive stroke in the hairline. “Like this line here – it's perfect, isn't it?”

Damian's throat worked silently. He turned another page to find a series of rejected cat studies, each annotated in Y/N's handwriting: “Note the perfect ear angle in #3” or “The way the light catches the fur in #7 is stunning.”

“And you see her in me?” The question came out quieter than he intended, stripped of its usual defensive edge.

Y/N considered him for a long moment. “I see an artist,” she said finally. “One who's forgotten that mastery isn't about perfect pieces – it's about the cumulative beauty of all the attempts.” She tapped a sketch where Damian had captured Aloo mid-yawn. “Even Michelangelo had off days. The difference is, he didn't drive himself crazy over his practice sketches. Probably.”

A strange expression crossed Damian's face – something between frustration and reluctant understanding. Aloo chose that moment to leap into his lap, butting his head against the journal insistently.

“Traitor,” Damian muttered, but his fingers moved automatically to scratch behind the cat's ears. When he finally looked up, his gaze held a new, grudging respect. “You're... not entirely wrong.”

Y/N hid her smile in her teacup. “High praise indeed.” She rose gracefully, leaving the journal in his hands. “Keep it tonight if you like. Just don't let Aloo chew the corners – he's developed a taste for watercolor paper.”

“I understand, Y/N.” The words came clipped and precise, but with less bite than usual.

Y/N paused mid-step, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes as she turned back to face him. The shop's golden lighting caught in the loose strands of hair framing her face as she tilted her head. “Since you understand Hindi and Chinese,” she began, her voice dancing with playful challenge, “I'm guessing you also know it's considered quite rude to call elder people by their names?” She arched one eyebrow meaningfully. “Especially when said elder has been supplying you with illegal amounts of saffron tea for months now.”

Damian's face contorted into an impressive scowl, his green eyes flashing with something between indignation and reluctant amusement. His mouth opened, then closed with an audible click of teeth as he apparently thought better of whatever retort had sprung to mind. Instead, he pointedly looked down at his sketchbook, his charcoal moving with renewed intensity across the page - though Y/N didn't miss the faint pink tinge creeping up his neck.

Her laughter rang through the empty café, warm and rich as she turned back to her closing duties. The familiar routine of wiping counters, righting chairs, and ushering the last few feline residents to their beds carried her through the next half-hour. Aloo protested his bedtime with half-hearted meows but eventually curled into his plush basket with a resigned huff, his golden fur glowing in the dimmed lights.

When Y/N finally turned back toward Damian's corner to announce closing time, her breath caught. The booth stood empty, the usual clutter of art supplies conspicuously absent. Only the faint indentation in the seat cushion and a scattering of charcoal dust remained as evidence of his presence. Had he slipped out without saying goodbye?

Her footsteps echoed softly as she approached the vacated table, hands already reaching for the abandoned teapot. The cool ceramic felt strangely light in her grasp, and beneath it, her fingers brushed against crisp paper. A neat stack of bills lay precisely arranged beside a folded sheet of heavy sketch paper, the amount far exceeding even his usual generous tips. Her breath hitched as she unfolded the paper with careful fingers.

The portrait staring back at her stole the air from her lungs. This wasn't one of the quick sketches she'd glimpsed earlier - this was a studied, intimate rendering that captured her in a moment of unguarded concentration. The play of light across her features as she read behind the counter, the way her hair fell across her shoulder, even the faint crease between her brows when she encountered a particularly difficult passage in her book - all rendered with astonishing sensitivity. It was more than a likeness; it was a revelation of how Damian truly saw her.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the page toward the dim light, revealing the smudged charcoal inscription in the bottom corner. The letters were deliberately formed yet slightly uneven, as if the writer had hesitated over each stroke:

For didi -D

╰ ┈➤ A/n: And anyone who hasn't tried Masala chai already HAS TO TRY IT ASAP. I swear you wont end up like Timmy. He's just a weak ass bish.

╰ ┈➤ Masterlist

╰ ┈➤ Tags: @hana-no-seiiki @sophiethewitch1 @swamiiyasssss @lilyalone @cxcilla @one-pea-in-a-pod @cooki3dough @misaki-kira8 @br0ke-b1tch @fictionalwhor3 @cherriespopsicle @lilithskywalker @multifandom-simp @hayleym1234 @sukaretto-n @idontwantthis22 @sarveshishwarishsuta @eclipse-msoul @aaaashiiii

@joekitsu (credits for that one line)

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sunnypopoki · 22 days ago

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YANDERE STORY REC ⬇︎

Do you like yandere stories? Well I got the story for you! Check out DEAD & DONE. It’s a new YANDERE REVERSE HAREM X FEMALE READER that can be found on Wattpad and Quotev. It’s going to be updated weekly on every Friday or Saturday. If you enjoy hitmen, forbidden love, gangs, and organized crime—you’ll love this story.

SYNOPSIS: Beaten and broken, the man choked out two words that would change Y/N's world forever. Red Lions. Those two words were the explosion that set off her spur of bad luck. Because who would have thought that her victim would also be the heir of the Red Lion Gang; an organization of crime, drugs, and murder. Now with her life on the line, she knew what she had to do next... survive whatever onslaught of terror they drag into her life. It's either be killed or kill them.

TAGS: reverse harem x reader, yanderes x reader, yandere x reader, gangs, organized crime, morally grey MC, female MC, horror, thriller, foul language, sexual content, violence and gore, murder, yanderes, male yanderes, etc.

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screeching-bunny · 2 years ago

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I'm intrigued by the idea of yandere priest harem.

Just a bunch of sexually repressed men that now have a tangible person to 'worship'.

Yandere! Priest Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Tags: @endism

What the fuck. You can’t believe it but you accidentally started a cult. You weren't sure how but you managed to do it. Everything about it was planned perfectly for you. From the moment you were kidnapped to the moment where you gave in, there was always some sort of routine that the priest followed that seemed almost robotic. Every word or phrase spoken to you seemed somewhat rehearsed as if they were doing everything in their power to make you pleased and happy. Everything that you requested or asked for was quickly met. Did you just say that you were hungry? Don’t worry, wait a couple more minutes and a feast will be made just for you. Did something catch your eye while you were shopping? In a couple minutes it is purchased and given to you. Never in your life had you seen a group more downbad people then these priests. They are incredibly whipped for you and treat you as if you were some kind of God.

Although you were kidnapped you soon learned to just accept the role as their false God. Why? Well to simply put you were just plain lazy and if being kidnapped allowed you to live a luxurious life without needing to work then so be it. Screw having a job and screw having to pay for bills. You will accept this position with grace and take advantage of it however you would like. The only thing that bothered you was why the hell were people joining this stupid cult!?!? By now you expected the stupid priests to run out of money by now due to your spending habits but why on Earth are people still continuing to donate to them!?!? There just always seems to be a never ending supply of money!!!

“Did you see them? The God of this religion is such a cutie. Do you think I have a shot at becoming a priest? Hell, I wouldn’t even mind being a sacrifice to them.” (Go away).

“I just donated my entire retirement fund to them. It’s so worth it. Did you see how cute their sneezes are? I could literally just die!!!” (Then die).

“I shook their hand a few days ago with my right hand. I haven’t washed it since.” (Gross).

Dammit that's why. You're so called “followers” were nothing but a group of some weirdo simps. The only thing that you ever did around this place was give speeches to your cult that came right out of your ass and they would eat it up everytime too. It is so bad that you could literally say that the Earth was flat and they would go to war to defend that you were right. You’ve never seen a group of more stupider people. As of right now you were currently giving out one of those bullshit speeches to your followers.

“... which is why cats are superior over dogs. If you have a cat tell them I said pspspspsp.”

One of the priests raises their hand, “Can you repeat that whole thing again? That was super cute and I forgot to press record.”

Another priest responds with, “Don’t worry I caught it all and I’ll send it to you later. In exchange, can I have that limited edition picture of them sleeping with a teddy bear.”

Another voice shouts, “Wait! I have some never seen before photos of them. Are you willing to trade it for the limited edition picture?”

“...”

Later that night you soon discover that there is a “trading card game” going around the cult using your pictures. You weren’t even sure how they even managed to take these photos but they somehow have them and how were these mass produced without you even noticing!?!? Why are they out of stock and why are they so popular!?!? Everyday is a never ending migraine for you. Just when you thought the priests couldn’t disappoint you even further, they always manage to prove you wrong. If they weren’t the ones feeding you, you would have been long gone by now.

Waking up always felt like a struggle most of the time. Like it literally was a struggle because there was always someone in your bed with you. They would constantly cuddle up to you as close as possible and make it difficult to leave the bed with their weight holding you down. By the time you wake up breakfast is already made and there is someone constantly fighting to decide who gets to feed you. After breakfast, you stroll around the gigantic garden that was funded with the money of taxpayers. Afternoons are spent giving out wack speeches and talking to your loyal followers. Dinners are the same as breakfast and there is competition on who gets to bathe with you. Quite often these end up turning physical fights between everyone. During the night you're out like a light and it’s a repeat of everything the next day.

Every passing day makes you so concerned for the mental health of others. There is just no way that any of these people are mentally sane. They have to be on drugs or something. You refused to believe that these were rational adults that are contributing members of society. No matter how much you try to change your personality, they always find a way to coo at you. On the days that you act like a brat you are met with the responses of, “Oh my god look at them pout that's so adorable!! Now step on me–”. On the days you act lazy it’s met with, “You don’t have to move I’ll do it all for you! Just let me lick your–”. Are you acting happy today? Well that's met with, “Your smile is so radiant! You know what would make your day better if you let me suck–”. In the end though it really doesn’t matter because their main goal in life is to forever worship your being whether you like it or not.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere harem #yandere priest #yandere cult

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sky-high-standards · 2 years ago

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Yandere!!Fairytale characters!!Dark Reverse harem xFemale reader

I recently edited this

Part 2 here

You always loved stories for as long as you could remember because every night until you turned 8 you had dreams about coming to visit these story book characters but strangely they were your age in these dreams and were incredibly possessive and kept going on about how you would have to get married to one of them when you grow up.

When you were 9 you stopped reading fairy tales and these dreams stopped too.

8 years later~

You where just minding your own business when your mother came in and told you that you had to donate some old toys to a charity shop, you lazily got up and went to your attic where you kept most of your childhood things. As you searched you picked up the story book that you haven't seen in 8 years, a wave of nostalgia came over yo as you flipped through the pages. Suddenly aa portal came from the book and sucked you in.

Story 1 Cinderellis

You found yourself in a castle when someone suddenly bumped into you. You were surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing gorgeous clothing and a crown probably the queen giving you her hand to help you up she apologized and then gasped taking a closer look at you.

Queen: y/n is that you?

Y/n: Um yes?

She beamed and hugged you.

Queen: y/n my dear its been so long you're all grown up and so beautiful!

y/n: Queen Charming?

Then it all came back to you .You where in the castle where you used to play with your old friends Ellis and Johnathan. The queens son Johnathan saw you as a little sister and the queen saw you as a daughter but Ellis was the son of a wealthy man who was very kind and had a close friendship with the royal family. You remember Jonathan was vey protective and teased you a lot while Ellis was very sweet and incredibly shy and was very clingy towards you but he had this dark side and hated competition.

Queen: Just call me Caroline dear.

She smiled warmly at you seeming euphoric to see you again.

Caroline: Come quickly we must tell Jonathan you returned he will be so happy to see you.

So she lead you to the vaguely familiar room belonging to Jonathan

When he turned around you could barely recognize him he really has grown up.

Johnathan: y/n?

You nodded and he then tackled you into a hug like when you were kids.

Johnathan: I knew you'd come back dummy!!!

y/n: You really haven't changed a bit huh Johnny.

After you three caught up you found out Ellis's dad had died after you left and he now lives with his stepmother and his two stepbrothers they stopped seeing him after they met his stepmother.

Caroline the told you that she was gonna plan a ball for your return and to find a wife for Johnathan she sent out invitations to everyone in the land including Ellis and his family.

Ellis's home

Ellis was doing his usual labor because his mother treated him like a slave ever since his father died. His step family now just calls his Cinderellis due to him always being covered in soot. Ellis barely got anything to eat and was always given ragged clothing to wear. His stepbrothers mad sure to make sure he feels and looks terrible because they are incredibly jealous of Ellis because of his looks and all the female attention he gets.

After all these years Ellis hadn't forgotten about you but how could he ever since he met you he had been madly in love with you so much so that he worships the ground you walk on and would do anything to get your attention and much much more to get you affection but after you left a piece of himself left too he was absolutely devastated but he never lost hope that someday you'll return.

When an invitations to the ball came Ellis didn't care but he jumped for joy when you saw that this was for your return finally, he'd see his beloved again.

He told his Stepmother, and she told her sons to try and get you to fall for one of them now Ellis didn't like this and poisoned his family that day, after all Ellis never liked competition.

After the murder he disposed of the bodies he then dressed in one of his fathers suites and daydreamed about how soft your lips where or how happy you'll be to see him he can already picture you running into his arms proclaiming your undying love for him and how you'd never leave him again you'll be his in a matter of time.

Back at the castle

You were getting ready for the ball when a blinding flash of purple light came, and you saw a woman with a wand and beautiful purple wings in front of you.

???: Oh hello dear.

y/n: um who are you ma'am?

???:I'm your fairy Godmother I'm here to help you get back home.

y/n: Why? everyone is so nice here.

She went silent for a moment looking at you sympathetically.

Godmother: Things aren't always as they seem my dear...you have to save Jonathan if you want to make it to the next story.

y/n: WHAT IS HE IN DANGER??!!!AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT STORY??!!

Godmother: Keep it down, yes he's in great danger and you have a few more stories to complete before you get to go home.

y/n: what do you mean?

Godmother: I mean in each of the stories you will live in you will have a task when you complete it you will be sent to the next story but if you fail a task you won't be able to leave when you were younger you made every one of the male leads fall for you and now their obsessions have grown in an unhealthy way so be careful I'll see you soon.

and then she left just like how she came with without warning and in a poof of purple light.

The ball had begun and you couldn't stop worrying about Caroline and Johnathan. You were shaken out of your train of thought when a young man asked to dance he seemed pretty exited even euphoric and...love sick?

Nonetheless you agreed and he swiftly took you to the the center of the ball room as you two danced you couldn't avoid his stare it was so intense but those gray blue eyes were just` too familiar then it clicked.

Y/n: Ellis...?

He smiles at you and nodded.

Ellis: Did you miss me little mouse?

you smiled back at him and hugged him and he was in pure bliss finally you're back in his arms oh how he's dreamed of this day everything was perfect until he saw those pretty eyes of yours start to lose focus on him as you kept glancing at Jonathan this made his blood boil he was always second place to Jonathan when it came to you he always got your attention but now he's finally snapped he's had enough.

When you left to go check on Caroline he pulled out a vile of poison the very same he used to kill his step family.

Ellis: I didn't think I'd have to use it so soon.

He mumbled coldly.

He was about to pour it into Jonathan's glass when he heard your voice and he quickly his it into his pocket smiling at you, you asked to speak to him privately and he was taken back when he saw you crying and he immediately went forward to comfort you only to be pushed away.

Ellis: Little mouse what's wrong.

You stared up at him with a mix of hurt betrayal and confusion.

Y/n: I saw what you were about to do Ellis...I don't understand, Why would you try hurt him.

Ellis: why? because I love you y/n I love so much that it drives me insane I love you so much that I'd kill anyone in a heartbeat just for your attention I love you more than you will ever know little mouse~

All you could do was look up at him in fear as he caressed your cheek smiling at you with a sickly-sweet smile.

y/n: what happened to you? You were so sweet so kind and so selfless.

Ellis: Oh y/n you happened to me.

you saw a deranged glint in his eyes and his smile turned more sinister.

Ellis: You turned me into this.

At that moment you knew there was no reasoning with him so you had to be with him until you get sent to the next story.

y/n: Ellis I'll be yours if you promise not to hurt anyone else.

You could tell he was more than euphoric hearing those words come out of that pretty mouth of yours it sent him over the edge.

Ellis: I promise Little mouse.

For about 5 months things where perfect for Ellis waking up and knowing you are there being the only one able to kiss your soft lips it was pure bliss until there was a flash and you were gone.

You were falling out of the sky and splashed into the water you tried your hardest to swim but couldn't you were about to drown but you were rescued by a strange being and all you could remember was its voice.

Tell me if ya want me to continue and please give my other yandere stories some love.

God loves you get plenty of sleep and stay hydrated

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chen-chens · 1 month ago

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Swee-hee-hee-heet! I Transferred to a New School and the Seven Hottest and Most Popular Boys There Fell For Me?!

SUMMARY: in which you find yourself in your own romance en-drama?!

GENRE: Rom-com, reverse harem, high school romance

MAIN CHARACTERS: Reader (Y/N), Lee Heeseung, Jay Park, Jake Shim, Park Sunghoon, Kim Sunoo, Yang Jungwon, Nishimura Riki

ADDITIONAL TAGS: #probably ooc but im doing my best, #hyung line + sunoo + reader are same grade but jungwon + niki are a year under, #SOOO much cringe shit, #love octagon(??), #every romance trope under the mf sun, more to be added

A/N: i started writing this cuz the ending of en-drama was SOOOO unsatisfying that i just had to try and fix it. this is not serious at all but let's all enjoy some delulu together lol! this is also my first time posting anything on tumblr so lowkey i have no idea what i'm doing so pls excuse any awkward formatting and tagging! ty!!

ONE: Fateful Beginnings

Call it cliché, or call it stupid, but you were scrambling off the bus and sprinting down the street in a mad dash with half a frozen waffle in between your teeth, repeating a mantra in your head: Holy shit, I’m gonna be SO late.

You probably looked like an insane person to the common bystander with the frantic look in your eyes, haphazardly donned uniform, and shoes completely undone, and if you weren't freaking out, then maybe you would've had the decency to be a little more embarrassed. Decency was a commodity you had forsaken on this early morning, however, since it was only the evening before that your parents had made you swear up and done that you would do your best to be a most dutiful, attentive, and punctual student at your brand new private school they had busted their asses to get you into. All you had done, though, was nod without really listening, before spending the wee hours of the night reading and giggling about webtoons.

If the school reported that you had missed the first period, if your parents caught wind of what you had done… Well, you shuddered at the consequences that would surely follow. It was better that you run like your life depended on it (which it did), lung integrity be damned.

It took a while, but you finally arrived at Decelis Academy, beet red in the face and huffing and puffing like you were about to die (which you were). It was a thing of beauty, especially in the cool, fall sunshine: soaring, gothic stone walls with ivy trellises adorning the bricks, big windows and stained glass decorating the walls, and a high and elegant tower jutting out from the middle. You grimaced, though, at the sight of a severe-faced, stern-looking man in a suit at the entrance of the school angrily scolding a shivering student with a wagging finger. The scolding seemed to last forever, and eventually, the student entered through the intricate stone gates with a hung head while the teacher returned to scouting the school perimeter with narrowed eyes. You took to jumping behind an electric pole for shelter.

If I get caught by him, I’m screwed! You could imagine the royal beating in your future already once the school called home, and it made you break into a cold sweat. Instead, you started looking around at the fences for some way to scale the walls (if you started to think about what would happen once you got inside the school, your head started to hurt. You’d get to that later). C’mon, think, THINK!

First, you ducked behind various poles, trees, and shrubs to run around the corner to a side where there was no teacher on the lookout for awful, disobedient students such as yourself. Then, you began feeling the stone walls for something, anything to grab onto, but let out a frustrated groan at the realization that a rich-ass school like this kept its walls extremely well-maintained. There was nary a single crack, save for the lines of mortar between the large gray stones. If you had to guess, the wall was at least ten feet tall, and even with a running start, you would barely be able to reach eight feet. Maybe if you could gather some things to step on…

You checked your phone and paled. You were already five minutes late; not enough for a call home yet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. There wasn’t enough time to scrabble something together for that plan!

Frantically, you looked to and fro for something to help you vault over the wall; a stick, bouncy shoes, a convenient pile of rocks, anything! However, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone— approaching from a distance at a brisk jog. As they came closer, you realized it was a boy about your age in the Decelis Academy’s suited uniform. His brows were furrowed and his cat-like eyes were narrowed, making his round, youthful face look rather stressed out. His messy, fluffy brown hair bounced as he ran.

You stared at him as he approached for probably too long. He was… actually, really, insanely, horribly cute. But that was besides the point. A person would actually make a great step stool in your current predicament and, well, the panic was starting to boil over in your throat. You were willing to sacrifice a cute boy to not meet your death once school was over.

“Hey! Um, excuse me?!” you called out to the boy as he neared. He turned to look at you with adorably widened eyes before coming to a stop at your side, though he seemed to anxiously glance towards the entrance of the school. You squinted to read the nametag pinned to his school coat: “Yang Jungwon.”

“Yeah? Are you okay?” Yang Jungwon asked worriedly, brows knit together. He looked towards the direction of the school gate again. “If it’s nothing too urgent, I’m running a little late for class and—”

“Mhmm, I see you go to Decelis too,” you interrupted with a frantic wave of your hand. You were not about to let this opportunity slip through your fingers! “Listen, I’m late too! It's my first day here. and I am completely and royally fucked if I get caught by that teacher at the gates. Could you please give me a boost up the wall?” You pointed up the walls with wide, pleading eyes.

Jungwon blinked. Then, he said slowly, “You… want me to help you climb over the wall so you don’t get caught by Mr. Kim?”

You frowned. “Uh, yeaaaah? Didn’t I just say that?”

The boy rubbed his nape. Suddenly, he just looked really confused. “Yeah, but this… this is a first for me,” he said awkwardly. “No one’s ever asked me to do this, y’know? I’m not supposed to be helping students break the rules…”

Oh no. He’s a goody-two-shoes. You thought as you paled. Just your luck; you weren’t even a delinquent, but of course the first time you tried something like this in a moment of sheer desperation, you found yourself at the hands of a teacher’s pet, a shining beacon of morality like the boy in front of you (maybe you were exaggerating, but you were stressed out!).

Panicked, you clasped your hands together in prayer, squeezed your eyes shut, and dropped to your bare knees on the hard cement sidewalk, which hurt more than you cared to admit. You ignored Jungwon’s sounds of shock, intense befuddlement, and subsequent pleas for you to get back up as you yelled out, “Please! I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I will owe you for the rest of my life! Just please help me get over the wall!”

“I—” Jungwon stammered. You opened an eye to see Jungwon’s face flustered as he looked around with a worried expression. He looked back at you, face stricken with something between horror, incredible concern, and confusion before he sighed. Quickly, he put down his backpack before asking, “What do you need?”

“Yes, thank you!” You nearly cried in relief, jumping up from the ground like a spring in immense joy. Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater as Jungwon did the same, you beckoned Jungwon closer to the wall. “Here; I’m gonna get a running start. I need you to hold your hands out like this—” you linked your hands together and pressed them downwards, creating a foothold, “—which I’m gonna step on, then boost me up so I can reach the top and pull myself up!” you declared with a fist of determination. There was no way this would go wrong.

Jungwon muttered something along the lines of it’s too early for this under his breath before he squatted down against the wall and positioned his hand just as you demonstrated. In the meantime, you backed up a considerable distance before calling out to him, “You ready?!”

“Yeah—”

“HAAAAAAAAH….!” You let out a roar of pure adrenaline and determination as you charged towards the wall at full speed, allowing the power of anime and manga to fill you. With mighty leaps and bounds, you hopped into Jungwon’s surprisingly sturdy hands and jumped as high as you could up the wall, with a boost from the boy beneath you.

Thankfully, you were able to reach the edge of the stones at the very top, just as you had hoped. Unfortunately, you were not the most athletic person in the world, and you found yourself struggling to pull yourself up and over. The wall suddenly seemed like an insurmountable mountain, and the beating by your parents seemed very real all of a sudden.

You looked down to Jungwon, who was bearing a good amount of your weight with great concentration while determinedly craning his head far, far away from your direction. “Hey! Can you push me up a little higher, please?” you called. After a moment of staring at him, you also added, “So, why is your neck like that?”

“Uh….” he replied as he hiked you upwards a few more inches with a bit of effort. After a few moments of your continued scrabbling, Jungwon boosted you up even higher and grunted out, “Well, I don't want any misunderstandings about what I’m looking at from down here…”

You paused in your mad attempts to heave yourself over the wall to glance back down at the very, insanely cute boy whose hands you had literally placed your life in. His face was bright red, possibly from exertion or from the frankly compromising position you had forced him into, and his neck was painfully turned away from you. “Huh. I hadn’t even thought about that,” you said honestly. You wore athletic shorts under your school-sanctioned plaid skirt anyways, and amidst the utter panic of your current situation, it really had not crossed your mind at all. “I see you doing your best, though, so it’s no worries! Just a little higher—”

“Hey! Who’s over here?!” an irritated voice yelled out from your left. “If you’re late, you’re in big trouble!”

“Shit!” you and Jungwon swore. Maybe your encouraging, awe-inspiring yell had not been your smartest move of the morning. You turned to him and begged, “I’m sorry, just a little more—ACK!”

In your desperate plea, Jungwon suddenly achieved some burst of freaky human strength and launched you upwards hard enough to send your upper body up and over the stone wall finally. You breathed a sigh of relief as you brought your legs over the wall, which you quickly sucked back in as you heard that same voice from before yell, “Hey, you there! Come here!”

You turned to Jungwon, who was heaving heavily, and said in your loudest whisper voice, “Thank you, I owe you my life! I’ll come find you and repay you!”

“Just go! Before he comes!” Jungwon called back in the same tone while frantically shooing you away with his hands. You nodded before hurriedly sliding down the other side of the wall, allowing yourself to drop once you had gotten closer to the bottom.

Your feet had hardly touched the ground before you heard stomping dress shoes approach where Jungwon was, followed by an angry and noisy tirade of biblical proportions.

“Yang Jungwon! How could you be so late?! And what was all that yelling about?!” the teacher, Mr. Kim, ranted.

Faintly, you heard Jungwon say between breaths, “I’m sorry, Ssaem, the bus was late and I had to run here… It’s, uh, been a stressful morning and I read an article about how yelling when you’re stressed releases endorphins so I tried that—”

“Honestly, Jungwon, don’t you think the student body president should be better than this? I’ll let you off with just a warning because this is the first time and you’re normally so diligent, but…”

You let out a silent groan. How could you implicate the student body president of all people? Just your luck. You were sure you totally ruined his probably stellar reputation, so now you owed him even more so. You may be a lazy person at heart, but you would never let a favor go unrewarded!

You looked at your phone and nearly screamed—10 minutes late! With that, you began to sprint towards the main entrance, sending a prayer upwards that you weren’t too late and that you had met someone like Yang Jungwon in your time of need.

next!

taglist: to be added!

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

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Yandere Hare and Bunny Hybrids (1)

Inspired by the Hare and Bunny Drawing by @aevris

For creatures with such similar appearances, they couldn’t be more different

When you first went to the shelter that housed poor hybrids you found the two wrongfully grouped as bunny hybrids

Rather than separated from one another as bunny and hare respectfully

Though your future hare hybrid couldn’t look more bothered

Your future bunny paid no attention lovingly squishing into the hare’s side

“And here we have our bunny hybrids! Aren’t they cute cuddling each other?”

“The um bigger one doesn’t look too happy to be there…”

“Don’t mind him, he can be a little grumpy! That's all!”

When you finally got to meet them their acceptance of you was widely different

Where the bunny hybrid practically launched himself into your arms

The hare only plopped next to you, ignoring you when you finally freed an arm to hold him too

“Oh my gouda!”

“W-what?”

“That’s the closest he’s stood next to anyone in that form! This must be a miracle!”

You didn’t mind taking two, you’d make it work

Especially with the discount they were offering you with an oddly worded contract

“By signing this you agree to take both of the store’s bunnies for over 10 days despite incident, injury, or suspicious decline in health?”

“Oh just filibuster! Just go ahead and sign right here, yup. Quickly please.”

When you finally have them both home, they’ll settle into their routines, more than happy to finally make themselves at home

Your hare hybrid - Jared was pleased to have a room to himself

Finally allowed to embrace the solitude that comes naturally to a hare

“This is sick. Thanks short-stack.”

“Uh, you're welcome.”

Your bunny hybrid–Cryst on the other hand is appalled

Falling to his knees he’s full-blown crying because he’s all alone in his room

“Nooooo! Do you want me to die all alone!? Stay with me, Master please!”

“Okay okay you can stay with me, just don’t call me Master. Hey! And please stop pulling on my shirt!”

This fear of loneliness never stops

Cryst cries when you tell him the concept of a job

He cries even harder when you tell him you have one

Jared on the other hand is relaxed he knows you’ll come back you better

Until then he’ll try to keep Cryst calm

After all, he doesn’t need the bunny ruining his stay with you not after all those other times

Granted he’s never agreed with Cryst’s choices until now

And he’s more than used to cleaning up after him at this point

Bloody or otherwise

But that shouldn’t need to happen as long as you stay focused on them

Right?

Part 2

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere poly #yandere polyamourous #yandere hybrid #yandere hybrid oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #yandere bunny hybrid #yandere hare hybrid #yandere hare #yandere bunny

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 8 months ago

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My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

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peoplesgraves · 10 months ago

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Prologue/Introduction

Yandere monster harem X Monster Hunter Reader

You don’t know it but the shitstorm that was your life had been a plan generations in the making, all the way back to the very first appearance of monsters in the human world. In a post monster world it was discovered that some humans had a specific gene mutation making them especially appealing to monsters of all manners. While most humans selectively chose to let this mutation die for safety other reasons, some groups chose instead to selectively aim for it. Arranging marriages with others who had the gene hoping to unlock the most effective form of it they possibly could, generally out of desire to dominate the monsters instead of coexist. These groups became monster hunters. Also your ancestors. Yep you, y/n, are the culmination of all those lovely monster attracting genes.

Perhaps that’s why your parents had been such human separatists insisting you lived in human only gated communities and private schools. hoping to save you from your generational curse. If that was the case though they’d never shared it and had instead left you totally vulnerable when they ‘mysteriously’ died. Finally seeing your chance to explore the more integrated wider world. When you got a random letter saying you were named the recipient of some long lost relatives estate who also ‘mysteriously’ died (wow mysteriously is really doing a lot of lifting here) how couldn’t you leave your seclusion for the wider, weirder world? That had been the beginning of the end. Ever since you moved to that stupid estate you’d collected one freaky monster spouse after another.

Your supposed solace came in the form of yet another random letter…you really should’ve stopped trusting mysterious letters after the first time. It told you that not only was your monster predicament not your fault, you also weren’t alone. Part of something greater than yourself, monster hunters! They invite you to join them out of a shared bond, a shared pain and totally not to arrange a marriage and force a new, monster hunter yandere on you…

(Will be making the monsters characters on my blog you can send requests for this is just a basic story/info introduction<3)

#yandere monster #Yandere monsters #yandere monster hunter #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere monster harem

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haru-natsuka · 5 months ago

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Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 6

Story will start after the synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 << CHAPTER 2 << CHAPTER 3 << CHAPTER 4 << CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6: WORRISOME

Adrian's voice was filled with a mix of relief and anxiety as he pulled back you to be completely within his arms, the back of your head was gently being held by him which lead for your face pressed against his chest.

His hold on you growing tighter with each passing second. He clutched you as if ensuring your presence was real and solid, a desperate need to feel your safety.

"I'm just glad you're safe," he repeated, his words choked with emotion. "But please, promise me never to disappear like that again. I was losing my mind with worry."

"Ohhh Adrian," you replied, a hint of amusement laced in your tone as you tried to lighten the tense surrounding and his worry. "Did you miss me that much?" you teased. "We were only apart for a few hours, and here I am, safe and sound."

As you spoke, you extended your hand to pat his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm while doing so. It beat so quickly, a testament to the anxiety he had endured.

"It was more than just a few hours," he murmured, his grip on you unyielding.

"It was 8 hours, 43 minutes, and 27 seconds," His words carrying a hint of desperation. "Anything could have happened to you in that time!" The gravity of his concern was evident in his voice, a reflection of the anxious hours he had spent waiting for your return.

'Wow, that's a bit too precise'

"I-!..."

Adrian paused for a moment, a glimmer of insight flickering in his eyes. He seemed to be engaged in a silent conversation with himself, contemplating his own actions and their consequences. After a few seconds, he turned his gaze back to you, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Is it because I was being a bit emotional earlier?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of self-reflection. "Is this my punishment for that?"

He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and affectionate as he stared at your face with a familiar mixture of pain and guilt expression that indicated his internal emotion. As you observed Adrian's expression, a pang of recognition and concern registered within you.

'This face is the exact one he had as that time... When his heart was broken because of his best friends... Adrian is self blaming himself again...'

"Look at me, Adrian. I'm fine, healthy, perfectly well and I am here now right?"

You cup his face in your hands. Adrian's gaze reluctantly lifted to meet yours, his eyes pained but hopeful. The torment and guilt evident on his face slowly ebbed away as you spoke.

"Instead of thinking about today, let's focus on tomorrow. Let's spend the whole day together until we got bored!" you suggested, your voice warm and soothing as you were comforting your man. "We can do farming, planting tomatoes, cherries... Oh! or we can go fishing too."

Adrian's expression visibly brightened at your suggestion, the guilt and worry gradually fading from his eyes as he saw you were trying to comfort him just like you always did. The you who always consoled him. The you, who always forgive him. Seeing your willingness to offer support, Adrian made the conscious decision not to dwell on his negative emotions.

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes. The smile that could shine a thousand miles away. That was your Adrian smile.

"That does sound wonderful. As long as I get to spend time with you, it doesn't matter what we do. I will never left you alone anymore. It will never be boring." he replied, his voice carrying a mixture of excitement and relief.

"But still don't push yourself too much with my whims. Are you suggesting to be with me even by sacrificing your sleep time?" Adrian's tone shifted, becoming more serious as he voiced his concerns. There was an air of caution in his words, and he looked at you with a hint of worry.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you responded to Adrian's concern with a lighthearted tone, a hint of a mischievous smirk on your lips.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Adrian," you reassured him. "I can always make up for it later by dozing off in those cozy arms of yours."

Upon hearing your lighthearted response, a soft chuckle escaped Adrian's lips. He could not help but be endeared by your confident nonchalance. The thought of you dozing off in his arms brought a tender smile to his face.

"I'll take it as a badge of honor for being such a comfort to you, Y/N"

As he looked at you closely, he could notice the subtle signs of exhaustion on your face. He recalled how unsteady your breathing was when he first laid eyes on you. a pang of guilt washed over him as he realized how self-centered he had been for holding you back.

"You know, you seem a bit tired," his voice gentle and filled with worry. "We should head back to our home."

The word of our home echoed in your brain as it could be define as another meaning but no, Adrian would not mean that. Adrian was simply innocent and pure while you were really lustful and impure.

'Is it wrong to have this thoughts and imagination, oh God forgive me for wanting to steal your angel'

As you tried to take a few steps backwards, preparing yourself for the walk home but almost immediately, you fall flat on the ground. Adrian, caught off guard by your unexpected fall, failed to catch you in time. Your startled expression mirrored the surprise on Adrian's face as he quickly rushed over to your side, kneeling down beside you as he observed your condition.

"I'm sorry but my legs are too shaky" You give him an assuring smile but in your mind, you blamed the entire thing on that scoundrel who disturbed your date with your man earlier.

'Next time we meet, I will punch his face for sure. No- there should not be another time. Hmmph! He should just rot in hell!'

"Are you really alright? Should we go to a physician? Can I examine your legs?" He instinctively reached out to check your legs, but you gently stopped his hand, giving him a reassuring smile.

"I'm good Adrian. Let just go home. I'm just in need for a rest"

Respecting your insistence, Adrian refrained from bombarding you with questions. With a gentle yet firm grip, he carefully lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly towards your home. A sense of responsibility washed over him, fueling his determination to care for you, making up for his own actions that morning.

Your whole body tensed, startled to be in the arms of the person you love but did not complain as you viewed this as an opportunity to indulge yourself with being held within his warm arms. Your eyes trailed from his chest to his face and the most closest part to you, his neck.

'Neck fetish, please don't activate now'

You slapped yourself multiple times in your mind but in reality you hung your head low and covered your face with your hands as you bite the inner part of your mouth to control your desire. You did not want your man to think you were somehow mental or crazy.

As you were busy fangirling in your heart and brain, you noticed the short path to your house became long. You slowly raised your head and saw his expression shifting from conflicted to reddened with embarrassment. The tinge of red on his cheeks growing more apparent with each passing moment. Adrian stepped halt in front of the door of your house.

Despite being neighbours, neither you nor Adrian had ever crossed the line and entered each other's homes. Both of you had a strong respect for each other's privacy, and Adrian was keenly aware of the boundaries and propriety associated with a man entering a single lady's residence.

"Adrian, you can put me down now"

Adrian hesitated for a brief moment, his protective instincts refusing to let go of you just yet when you were in that weak state.

"But-" he protested, his voice laced with concern.

"The strength of my legs has returned. Thank you for making it easier for me" Adrian just tighten his hold on you as he reluctant to let you be on your own. Amused by his adorable yet concerning behavior, you refrained from making it more challenging for him, even though secretly, you found it quite endearing.

"If you don't put me down, your first kiss here will be mine" You tapped your finger lightly on his lips as you chose to threaten him with the most effective way for Adrian. It was a coward move but it was the best action for him and at this time.

"I know you, Y/N. You will not force yourself on me" It was not like yesterday the two of you know each other and Adrian could distinguish between a true and empty threat coming from you. He was still stubborn to help you although he is hopeless now.

Without thinking twice, you brought yourself closer to his lips "Then, you need to know me better. My heart is always for you, so kissing the person you love..., it's not hard at all Adrian"

His blushing worsen as he did not expect that move from you. He choose to carefully lower you to the ground as he knew now that was not an empty threat, ensuring that you were steady on your feet before reluctantly letting go.

You let out a lighthearted chuckles as you had fun teasing your man. However, the truth was, you also feeling shy for making such a move. You still could feel his hot breath on your face earlier and your heart still pounding so hard. You took his hands in your hold and kissed his fingertips just to add his embarrassment more.

"Thank you for always care for me. I know I choose the right person to fall in love with"

Adrian timidly took back his hands and just pat your head gently. His eyes could not even land on you properly as he was still a blushing madness. His other hand covered part of his lower face.

"Take care, Y/N. Goodnight" Adrian could not even talk properly that his words became a whisper.

"Night too Adrian. Sweet dreams and see you tomorrow" You closed the door before melting on the floor as you scream for your stupidity.

"Where did that courage come from! What did I do! How can I even do that!"

You wanted to bang your head for choosing such a low quality threat for Adrian. Outside of your house was Adrian who heard you scream. He took a sit in front of the entrance as he tried to cool down his red face and ears with the night's chill air. This time, he was the one feeling weak on his feet.

The following morning, you woke up before the sun had even risen, your steps light with anticipation as you reminisced about the events of the previous day.

'Let's not think about the negative side! Just remember you got to see Adrian flustered face! His hot breath! His muscles arms! I should learn painting and paint myself that spectacular scenery!'

It was a pleasant and calm morning. Just as you were about to walk into the forest, passing the first line of trees, a long-standing enemy revealed himself from behind the tree.

"AHHHHHH!!!"

'THE SATAN HAS REVEALED HIMSELF AGAIN!!!'

>> Chapter 7

Tag list:

@d3sperate-enuf @sirenetheblogger @orinnie @aoiyx @chin-chii @elsoleil @iamapotatoe @yzuposts @black-butterfly-2405

@beeskn3es @ivorette @type-ink @lol-leo

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