#yandere undertale x reader

[yanderes-galore]

6/8

We're at 2/3s.

Grillby with a very shy darling (Undertale) (Romantic)

I mean... I can try. There isn't much about him so it may be short if that's okay :(?

Yandere! Grillby with Shy! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Slight stalking (He likes to watch you), Murder mentioned, Dubious relationship.

Grillby is... really hard to read.

Even towards those he's fond of he's usually quite quiet.

Although... I do imagine he reads people well.

When it comes to Grillby, I imagine he likes an obsession who's a regular to Grillby's.

He's rarely seen outside of Grillby's... it would only make sense if his obsession was often around.

Maybe you live in Snowdin, or somewhere else, either way you always find yourself at Grillby's.

You like the food there... but you never seem to talk to anyone.

Grillby, someone who's not so talkative himself, picks up on your quiet behavior.

You often pick a spot where there's not many people or a corner of the bar table.

I imagine your bond is mostly just... quiet.

You silently feel comfort in each other's company whenever you come by.

You may come around often because Grillby respects your desire to be left alone.

Grillby can tell you're shy based on how you act.

Even when you don't think he's looking, he observes your reaction to others.

He can see how you shy away from other patrons, looking flustered as you try to enjoy your food.

Grillby is definitely someone who quietly watches his obsession in Grillby's, picking up on little reactions and remembering them.

Grillby is attentive to your shy behavior, often offering you a seat close to him at the bar table.

You're kept out of the way and often served your favorite meal on the menu.

Grillby watches over you, maybe even brushing away nosey patrons who want to talk to you.

In a way he's actually... really protective of you and your reserved nature.

He doesn't force you to speak.

In fact, as said before, he's fond of the silence you share.

He's fond of you... even if he won't come out and say it.

His "yandere behavior" is very subtle.

You would have no idea of his bad decisions and desires due to how reserved he is.

The more you come to Grillby's, the more Grillby realizes he loves you.

He never really acts on it.

In fact, he's completely happy with staying subtle.

He likes heating drinks for you, he likes providing you food...

To him it feels like he's caring for you.

He's just providing food, drink, and warmth with his flames... but he enjoys the way he makes you smile.

In terms of darker behavior?

Well, in his eyes (?) he's just protecting you from unwanted attention.

As bars/pubs are, imagine if someone was too pushy with you.

You feel trapped by the wall and the bar table, scared.

Grillby is quick to step in, flames flickering a bit brighter as he orders them out.

To you, that's all that happened.

To Grillby? Well... he made sure they can't bother you or anyone anymore.

I mean, really, who would suspect Grillby of such a thing?

Cleaning his clothes is easy, if there is any dust... he incinerates it.

You just think said patron was banned, in a way they were.

Grillby acts like nothing happened, he's silent anyways so the act isn't hard.

Plus, when that patron is gone, you go back to softly smiling.

Such a sight makes his flames burn a bit brighter.

Your bond together is definitely... quiet and relaxed.

You only really see one another at Grillby's.

But maybe... eventually... Grillby will approach you outside of the building.

Grillby is definitely someone who'd seem normal to his obsession.

You're both quiet, it's actually almost a perfect match due to your nature.

You may even date him, completely unaware of any crime he's done.

Murder? Stalking? You have no clue.

Which means abduction or forced isolation doesn't need to happen since you're so willing.

Ironically he's really chill in his behavior, only wanting to protect you from any unwanted scenarios.

As far as you know he's just your favorite bartender... or perhaps even boyfriend...

You'd never suspect a thing.

Allowing Grillby to confidently take you for himself, with no one to tell him otherwise.

[alex-rambles]

Yandere sans headcanons?

-Sans is EXTREMELY unlikely to turn yandere

-He's chill, he's laid back

-If he did turn yandere, it'd most likely be on as well as after a genocide or neutral route (that isn't flawed pacifist)

-Everyone is dying

-If you're a human, you fell down here a while ago. He's known you forever! Knows you're chill

-If you're a monster obviously he's ok with you from the get go blah blah blah

-But Frisk is killing loads of people

-He gets anxious

-Anxiety becomes paranoia

-Because he's watched it OVER AND OVER, unendingly. It's all okay, he's at the surface, with you, when suddenly, he's back in Snowdin and Player/Frisk is going on a killing spree

-He's not necessarily the jealous type

-He trusts you wouldn't ever go for someone else

-Essentially, he just kidnaps you for your safety

-People can still see you, he's not really abusive, you're just a hostage

-Unfortunately, once he kidnaps you once, he'll keep doing it every reset

-Just to be sure you'll be okay

-But Sans is still his goofy ass self

-There will likely be fights

-You're pissed you're stuck in one place

-But it's okay, you'll come to be grateful soon! Right?

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; mettaton

requested by ; anonymous (13/08/22)

fandom(s) ; undertale

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; mettaton

outline ; “Yandere Mettaton headcanons...”

warning(s) ; obsessive behaviour, toxic relationship, stalking, kidnapping, references to violence/murder

you are the centre of his world and he goes to great lengths to make sure that the rest of the underground know that you’re his

has an entire segment of his show dedicated to you: your voice, your image, your hobbies, your achievements and your latest activities

it starts off as a sort of news segment but it quickly devolves into lewd speech that needs to be censored in its entirety

he forces you to stay in his home or at his studio at all times — either in his presence directly or constantly on private cameras so he can keep an eye on you

(you don’t know how many cameras there are or where they are, just that some are there)

if you escape he’ll send his fans after you under the guise of a competition

your face is plastered everywhere so there’s no chance of you getting away for very long

you get fan-mail like mettaton does, but he personally monitors every letter to make sure you only get platonic flattering things and nothing flirty

anyone who does express any romantic ideas towards you or any dislike of him will be targeted and exterminated by himself or someone who follows him

he’s super affectionate and big on praising you — with his compliments ranging from earnest to lewd as his metal hands go lower and lower

he has no boundaries with you and unless you’re really polite about it he won’t respect yours (with one obvious exception)

if you’re resistant then he’ll isolate you completely until you’re so dependent on him for socialisation that you stop fighting back against his affection

calls you ‘darling’ of course but he always prefaces it with ‘my’ — just emphasising that you belong to him at any opportunity he can

he’s a killer robot and isn’t above hurting others to prove a point to you (be that friends, family, ex lovers or concerned bystanders)

he’d never physically hurt you, though, as he finds you much too precious

bullies and guilts you into saying that you love him every day — even several times a day — because he thrives off of your affection and attention

[yandere-toons]

Yandere: "is that your family?" S/O: "nope, nah-uh, nada. I've never seen those people in my life"

Years of hard data say you're lying, but they're not about to incriminate themselves by revealing so: Huey Duck, Hunter | Golden Guard, Aziraphale, Sheldon J Plankton, Doctor Nefarious, Tenth Doctor, Shang Tsung, Dr Flug, Perry the Platypus, Midoriya Izuku

Suspects the lie but rolls with it: Ian Malcolm, Louie Duck, Anthony J. Crowley, Nick Wilde, Nagito Komaeda, Captain Jack Sparrow, Lightning McQueen, Ratchet, Kaa, Bugs Bunny, Mike Wazowski, Johnny Loughran, Klaus Hargreeves, Sans Undertale, Arataka Reigen, Tyrion Lannister, Legoshi, Rouge the Bat, Wallace Wells, Kendall Roy, Connor Roy, Finnick Odair

Races over to introduce themselves: Toga Himiko, SpongeBob SquarePants, Dewey Duck, Judy Hopps, Kokichi Ouma, Beetlejuice, Celia Mae, Gaston, Mavis Dracula, Undyne, Beast Boy, Deadpool, Alvin Seville, Phil Dunphy

Believes you: Pinkie Pie, Bluey & Bingo, Jataro Kemuri, Chick Hicks, Caligosto Loboto, GIR, Daffy Duck, Bill & Ted, Olaf, Shigeo Kageyama, Starfire, Scott Pilgrim, Ken, Castiel

Laughs at your thin deceptions: Emperor Belos, Bill Cipher, Black Hat, Scar, Shere Khan, Tai Lung, Lord Shen, Pagan Min, Invader ZiM, Shao Kahn, Eleventh Doctor, Rainbow Dash, Shenzi, Randall Boggs, Duncan Pepperidge Anderson, Agent Smith, Doctor Eggman, Han Solo, Alastor, Izaya Orihara, Gideon Graves, Roman Roy, Shiv Roy, Gristol Malik

Alternative interpretation is equally funny — the yandere is pointing out random groups of people and slowly narrowing down their choices.

[darkpetal16]

Play as a CUSTOMIZABLE scientist who catches the deranged attention of a siren while visiting an Arctic research base. 

Game includes:

Play as a smart scientist who makes really dumb decisions. 

Play as a smart scientist who makes excellent decisions that lead to self-preservation. 

Get adopted by a misanthropist socially awkward Dadster

Be stalked wooed by a delusional siren

Be kidnapped

Drive a snowjet! 

Race a friendly companion.  

Binge watch a series without realizing how much time has passed you by. 

Be drowned

Enjoy your stay at a five-star arctic research base that has zero casualties so far. 

Why do you keep finding bodies—

This is a 15+ romance/horror with an obsessive love interest. Please read the complete warnings list inside the game if sensitive or easily triggered. 

This game has one complete route to a "good" ending, and 9 "bad" endings with plans to add additional routes / bonuses. Siren!Sans belongs to @llamagoddessofficial on tumblr/ao3. AU was used with permission, although adjusted for funsies. (:

[mint-8]

Undertale - Platonic Yandere Toriel

Toriel has had a rough life. It started sweet, at least. Married the love of her life and becoming the ruler of the Underground alongside Asgore, and had her first born, Asriel. Only for a couple years later to have met her second child, the fallen human, Chara. Life in the Underground was good, working alongside her husband to keep monsterkind happy and hopeful. It was tough work, but seeing the smiles of her people made it all worthy for her. And yet, it was all taken away from her claws when Chara fell sick. Asriel, devastated by such an event, absorbed Chara’s soul and left the underground. Only to end up dead from his injuries from the human village, Chara’s village.

Toriel, overtaken by grief, left Asgore the moment he installed the new law for the Underground. For all humans to be killed and their souls to be used as the keys necessary to break the magical barrier and free monsterkind.

Toriel lived a calm yet solitary life in the Ruins. Even though she had the company of fellow monsters who stayed behind with her, plus the fun jokes for the unknown voice from outside the Ruins, she was still consumed by the loneliness and isolation. Eventually you run out of conversation topics with those around you, reading the same books over and over again becomes tiring and even the funny banter between her anonymous friend has become stale.

And yet, one day, a new human fell down Mt. Ebott. And another, and another, and another. Every child that fell was protected and taking care of by her, with all the love and warmth she once gave to Asriel, Chara and her subjects. But despite all her efforts, all of them left. They left the ruins, her home. They left her. Until a new human fell down.

- Yandere Toriel whose original intention was to protect you and teach you the ways of the Underground, just like any other human child that has fallen before. Yet, you seemed a bit different.

- You, who was so patient and sweet to Toriel. You would always listen to everything she said and would share her interests in reading, cooking, snails and jokes! Accompanying her in these activities and eating her special pie recipe!

- You, who brought a new light to the fellow monsters in the Ruins, running around and playing games with the Froggits, having conversations with the rocks, comforting and making the Whimsums smile, bantering with the Looxs, having picnics with the Vegetoids, hanging out with the Migosp (and giving their personal space when they needed), waiting for the Mice to exit their home, listening to music and spending time with Napstablook, conversing with the Dummy (although they stay silent) and with the spiders from the Bake Sale (plus buying some sweets from them, as well)!

- Yandere Toriel who realizes that she can’t let you go. You are the reason why the ruins are so lively! She, alongside the other monsters, haven’t felt this happy in so long! Thus, one night, when you are resting in your bedroom, Toriel and the other residents of the Ruins have a chat and reach a conclusion. All the other monsters agree with her, she must destroy the entrance so you’ll stay forever.

- Yandere Toriel who convinces you to stay the entire day outside of Home and hang out with the other monsters! All of them have tons of things to do today, won’t you play with them? Ruins’s monsters who insist on you staying outside Home, and not to worry about whatever Toriel is occupied with!

- Sweet, adorable you that doesn’t realize what’s happening until a huge explosion is heard deeper within the Ruins, near Home! Silly human child who runs towards Home to make sure Toriel is safe and sound, and that no other monsters got hurt in the process! Little you who finds Toriel deep in the basement, with the once pristine door that lead to the outside, completely destroyed with rocks covering the entrance.

- Yandere Toriel who finally looks at you after giving you her back. She is smiling, a grin so wide it makes you shiver. She gets close to you, and even though you have the instinct to back away, you let her hug you tightly. After a few moments of silence, she finally whispers “Now we will be together forever, my child. Mommy and the others will look after you, no need to be afraid”

- Yandere Toriel who will host a party at Home where everyone is invited, to commemorate such a happy occasion! Their human will stay with them forever, they’ll bring them happiness for years to come!

[fangdokja]

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

────────────

The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

────────────

The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

────────────

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Ais

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

[yandere-kokeshi]

Can I get a yandere hobie x plus size reader who's Insecure about her or their weight please? Both sfw and nsfw if you comfortable with it.

Warnings: talks about insecurity, and nsfw.

A/N: no because he's definitely a chubby chaser. I'm chubby, so sending this in made me smile ;P! Ty for the request <3.

And please be more specific with the gender next time. I did GN.

Hobie, at first, would be sad and surprised when you opened about your insecurities. In his own eyes, you’ve always been attractive. He doesn’t understand why you are insecure. He gets sad whenever you devalue yourself or look at yourself in the mirror just because of your size. Everybody is different, especially with size. Why do you need the praise of others when he tells you how beautiful you are?

You should know he loves everything about you. The stretch marks, body curves, round cheeks, and plush thighs; he admires it like a deity. Nothing can change his opinion.

He has a way with words. There’s no room for hate when he’s with you. He’ll trace his hands down every spot you deem ugly. Whispering everything he loves about you, why you’re so perfect. All until you give in and genuinely tell him you feel better.

Hobie will sweep you off your feet. When worrying about your weight and size, about people's opinion, he’ll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you’re doing or where you are, he’ll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he’ll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he’ll shush you and say, “Ya’ feel like a kitten to me”.

Is 100% bold. Loves to slap your ass when you least expect it. Especially in front of people.

Finding clothes to fit your lovely form is hard. It’s either highly expensive or pretty bland. However, with Hobie, the issue is naturally fixed. He loves to sew and create clothes for you, though beware: Hobie will try to sneak in more revealing/risqué of clothing.

More often or not, he calls you his sweet cheeks, baby or peaches. Definitely bunny if you are too cute for him to handle.

Ever since you two got together, he’s been pawing and touching you; at any given time, his hands are on you and squishing your chubby form.

And this includes with sex. Literally the entire time, he’s with you, rolling under the sheets and kissing your skin, his hands are pawing at your rolls and thighs, making sure to leave permanent marks.

He thinks the best medicine for your insecurity is fucking it all out. If he finds you frowning in front of the mirror, pulling at your tummy rolls? He’s fucking you in front of it, making sure you make eye contact with him as he nibbles and bites at you; calling you his pretty peaches.

Denying sitting on his lap as you fear you’re ‘too fat?’ Hobie makes you sit on his face, leaving dark marks all over your yummy thighs and ensuring you cum at least 5 times before he gives you the real package.

Insecure of how your thighs and ass look? He takes extra time with foreplay, whispering the reasons why he loves your silver marks, soft skin, and peached build; biting into your ass as he licks your special place.

Definitely uses your thighs to masturbate. Whenever the two of you are sleeping, and he’s up at midnight – his bulge in the boxers becoming a problem, he’ll pull down your underwear before slicking in between them. His groaning and love marks littered and stained on your neck cause you to wake up. Though, you aren’t complaining.

Can’t decide if he’s more of an ass, or thigh man. He appreciates both of them and every part of your body equally. Any stretch marks, cellulite, anything.

The type to affectionately cup your sex. Whether that’s after a steamy session or sitting in your bedroom, Hobie will dig his hand into your pants and cup it like a piece of art. Most of the time, it’s not even sexual – he just likes how it feels down there.

As much as he loves you, Hobie is still a devious son of a bitch. He loves to leave marks all over you, especially your thighs and tummy.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Featuring: Yandere Error sans x reader

Trigger warning: kidnapping, injuries, rope burns, physical torture(?), yandere behavior.

Masterlist

"Ⱨ₳₱₱Ɏ ฿łⱤ₮ⱧĐ₳Ɏ Đ₳ⱤⱠł₦₲.."

This shouldn't be happening. You should be at home, celebrating your birthday along with your lovely boyfriend, Geno. You two would be cuddling at this time, maybe something more... Yet here you are. Tied up in some strange blue strings made by the fingers of the one who kidnapped you.

He said his name was "Error" and he claimed he was your boyfriend, even after explaining multiple times you dated Geno. The skeleton just laughed it off at first, giggling creepily at your "joke", but when you insisted on the same thing over and over he grew tired and annoyed, wrapping your wrists and legs tightly with his deep ocean strings.

Every time you moved, they only got tighter and tighter, it hurt terribly, your blood could barely pass and dark velvet marks started to form around the strings, you begged your captor to let you go, repeating that it hurts and that you could die like this.

"Error p-please... It hurts... Please..."

You murmured, he could hear your cries, you knew he could, yet he did nothing. Time passed and you were hungry, at the state you were in, there was no way you could eat. And even when he tried to feed you, you refused, not before he un-tightened the strings. The skeleton signed but did what you asked, his eyes fell to the after match of it, he stared at your new hounds in guilt.

Your skin was cut, your wrists and legs had severe rope burns all over them, Error released you, your body dropping hard into the ground of the spacious void. You didn't have the strength to get up anymore, no matter how much you tried, your body failed, your body ached.

He lifted you up, carefully landing you on his puff. You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking at your legs full of injuries while breathing heavily.

"ł₥ ₴ØⱤⱤɎ ĐɆ₳Ɽ... ł ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮ØØ ₣₳Ɽ.."

His words echoed in your mind as he gently wrapped your legs with bandages. You wanted to cry, to scream, yet you knew it would all be in vain.

Your cries for help would go unheard for the rest of eternity.

[ellavdrea]

Hi! 👋 We're reaching out with a heartfelt message of hope. My wife, Diana, our two young daughters, and I live in Gaza, where we face daily struggles in an environment filled with conflict 💔. We've just launched a new GoFundMe campaign to help us escape this danger and find a place where our family can live in peace. Your support, even by simply sharing the link, would mean the world to us. Thank you for reading our story, and for any help you can give ❤️🌸.

Please take a moment to check it out: [https://gofund.me/4f370b48]

of course!!!!

if youre reading this, pls take moment and click here to donate, share the link or even reblog to spread this post.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Yandere!Starlo headcanons

I've been playing Undertale Yellow and of course I had to write for Starlo, with an introduction and boss fight like that, how could I not?

Warnings: yandere character; vague descriptions of violence; imprisonment; some spoilers for the game;

Starlo

💛 Starlo, or North Star as he has taken a liking to call himself, has always been one for fixations.

💛 And you being a human who just so happened to have the unfortunate mistep of falling into the Underground fits oh so neatly into his acquired fascinations.

💛 Imagine you're a human who managed to venture through the Underground until you stumbled upon the Wild East before Clover even had a chance to.

💛 You're the first human, the first real human Star has ever laid eyes on. And how exciting that is!

💛 He just has to take you along! He's seen so much about your kind and he just yearns to mimic a part of it; and besides, imagine his posse, the Feisty Five, now with a human member!

💛 You barely have time to question what he means by that before you're being taken by his gang and brought to his town. 

💛 And if you somehow manage to break yourself out of the grasp of Ed or any of the other members, Star is pretty quick with his lasso. Don't worry! He doesn't want to hurt you! You just have to come with him them! You have to.

💛 He wants you as part of the team, immediately parading you around for the town's residents, delighted at his newest find. You're going to fit in just fine, partner! He's sure of it.

💛 But you can't leave.

💛 Try as you might to ask around, everyone seems to have a soft spot for Star and think of his antics as mostly harmless. They all share the sentiment that you could just stick around for a bit.

💛 They've never seen him so enthusiastic, so lively before. Maybe you could humor him? Just for a little while! It's the equivalent to playing cowboys for a few days, and where's the harm in that?

💛 Besides, this little town is just so welcoming and friendly. How can you not want to stop and stay a while?

💛 Nevermind that all possible exits seem to be closed off. Or even just straight up locked with a very clear intent.

💛 None of the other residents are as enthusiastic about your stay here. They're very nice to you and happy to see a new face, granted, but you can tell that some of them in particular are internally debating whether or not Star should be doing this. It's all in good fun... And it's not like he's actually trapping you here, right? You'll leave eventually, should you choose to.

💛 Oh, how wrong they'll grow to be.

💛 Star will drag you to "training" as soon as he can, hoping to get you started with a spot on his posse immediately. He has an eye for talent, so surely it'll be no wonder when you start showing sharpshooting skills just as impressive as his!

💛 Nevermind the fact you never held a gun with the intent to shoot in your life.

💛 Training goes over a bit awkwardly, with you clearly not being cut out to be a gunslinger and him being stubborn and convinced that you're made for this. Made to join them. Made to join him.

💛 It takes quite a bit of accidents and a lot of convincing from the other members for him to start accepting that maybe giving you a six-shooter and forcing you to answer to moral problems isn't exactly gonna work out.

💛 But he doesn't give up. 

💛 Sure, you're not officially part of the gang, but that doesn't stop him from dragging you around with him everywhere.

💛 Literally.

💛 Most of the time he guides you around by the hand or, during the moments where you are "refusing to cooperate for no reason", he straight up lassos you and then drags you around.

💛 He laughs it up and tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal. He's not trying to harm you in any way, he just wants to show you around! Show you to his town, show you how fun this life is.

💛 He dresses you up for the role too, insisting in giving you old hats he no longer uses and clothes that would fit the costuming of an old western movie, all things he handmade himself. He just wants you to look the part. And he also thinks you look really cool like that!

💛 You're always there during the gang's meetings, whether you asked to be there or not, and of course you have to participate in the group naps afterwards. 

💛 Star lets you take his spot on the old couch the first few times, but then he starts insisting that you two should share. He does take no for an answer, at least, a bit sad but not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Still doesn't really stop him from sleeping on the ground right in front of the couch. 

💛 Makes it easier to catch you when you're trying to run away leave mid nap, for some reason. You're supposed to rest up before the next mission, you know? He's just trying to help you care for yourself.

💛 When he's not busy playing the role of the town sheriff or hanging out with his posse, while dragging you along of course, he tries to get you to talk about yourself and your life on the Surface.

💛 Star absolutely adores hearing more about you, and gets super into trying to involve your experiences, preferences and stories into the whole old wild west town he has going on. Anything you tell him he absorbs, and then he tries to give you gifts that match or recreate things you've enjoyed to the best of his ability.

💛 Of course, he also goes to show off his brand new knowledge on humans and their lives to anyone in the saloon who's around to listen, all direct from a reliable and wonderful source!

💛 But all of this very obviously obsessive behaviour can only go on for so long before the members of his gang or even Ceroba start to point out how... Weird he's been acting ever since he found you.

💛 He tries to dismiss them. He just cares about you! You're special and he has taken a really strong liking to you. You're like… His partner. Yeah.

💛 So why does he keep you so confined? Well, you're human! Any other monster outside this town finds you and you'll very likely get captured and sent to king Asgore, who will kill you and add your SOUL to the amount needed to break the barrier.

💛 That is if you aren't hurt or killed by an aggressive monster before that even gets to happen.

💛 The others can't really argue about that, much to their frustration, but still point out that he's being overbearing and overprotective.

💛 He ignores them for the most part. Or plays it off, as he usually does. C'mon, the town has been so much more lively since you got here! Why think about all that depressing stuff when we could be having fun and distracting ourselves?

💛 Still, part of him knows it's wrong to keep you here.

💛 Especially when you come to him asking when you can leave. Reminding him that if you managed to get all the way out from the Ruins up until this town, it means that you can handle yourself despite not really being a fighter. And you want to go home.

💛 He feels his heart twist everytime you say that. Home. The guilt instills itself, but it doesn't stop him.

💛 Because... This is your home now, right?

💛 It's selfish, yes, but he doesn't want you to leave. He's grown attached. And he's also grown terrified you're going to end up hurt, or much, much worse. 

💛 Thinking about you being gone from his sight makes his hand shake over the holster of his gun.

💛 So you can't leave.

💛 The town is locked up and you're both figuratively and literally tied to him most of the time, anyway.

💛 You're staying.

💛 You're part of his gang, after all. You're supposed to stick together, through thick and thin.

[jamimix]

Nothing to Fear

Yandere Sans!Undertale x Reader

This is so random (●v●) I'm not in the fandom anymore. But since @iloveartaaa said pls, I'mma just post it.

Also, this was made some time in 2019(?) so it's not gonna be that well-written. Didn't proof read this either so...

Warnings: Mentions of killing, Stalking

It's already midnight when you stepped out of your workplace, tired and wanting to go home. Luckily, it's only 15 minutes away from your house if you take the right shortcuts. Though, you still felt annoyed at having stay out this late.

Blame goes to your stupid coworker who kept getting you in trouble.

As you walked, you couldn't help but feel as if you're being watched, a bit of paranoia getting to you. You would've ignored it, but your gut says that this probably isn't from your usual stalker.

Ahh yes, your stalker. You knew of him too, quite close to him in fact. But you never really minded, felt safer to have at least someone watching over you to make sure you're safe. And he only ever stalked you when you're outside, so it's fine.

Though, of course, he doesn't know that you know.

Turning a corner, you suddenly hear a scream from where you were. Curious, you turned back to the corner and took a peek.

And then you quickly turned around and walked away from the... disturbing scene.

Ignoring it with the thought of just going home. You felt like you should be shocked, disgusted, or even afraid. But honestly? You're not even shaken from what you saw.

You knew from the moment that you caught each others gaze that he's not as -for the lack of a better word- stable as he seems. And the fact that he's a stalker, well... that doesn't really scream sane, does it?

Sans has always been...something.

You're not sure if he knew that you saw, ('he does' your mind supplies.) but right now, your main course of actions is to really just go home. This has been quite a bothersome day.

-------------------------------------------------

Why are you not surprised that he's already at your home? The lights are off, the only way that you knew of him being here is because of his glowing eyelights. You held back an annoyed sigh as you stare back at him through the dark.

"What are you doing here, Sans?" You say, breaking the silence. Though, he chose to remain silent, just watching you. You rolled your eyes at him and looked towards where the light switch should be.

You moved towards it, but before you could, you suddenly found yourself in an almost bone-crushing embrace of the skeleton. Trying to pull away was fruitless, as he only tighten his grip, leaving you gasping a bit for air.

You sighed annoyed and then grimaced as you inhaled the stench of iron.

"....you need bath" you grumbled, face squished on his hoodie making your words come out as a mumble. He heard it anyways, the surprised chuckle says so.

"Of all things..." You hear him say, more to himself, in surprise.

Another silence then enveloped you both. Not uncomfortable, yet not comfortable either. Well, that's what you think the atmosphere felt like. You're legs are kinda getting a bit too tired, so you let yourself go limp, closing your eyes in the process.

Surprised (again), Sans adjusted his hold on you so that you wouldn't fall. A part of him worried, thinking that you suddenly just passed out. But a large part of him is quite giddy to have you in his arms.

Now holding you bridestyle, he couldn't help but grin wider with the already permanent smile on his face. He's not sure why you're not screaming and trying to get away from him, but he's not going to complain about it. This is basically saying that you're accepting him for who he is.

This is a blessing.

He couldn't help the laughter that came out at the thought. From the Underground, he and all of the other monsters, with the help of a human child, got out. The humans on the surface welcomed them with open arms, an 'apology' for the years of imprisonment.

When he and Papyrus moved here at the surface, he met you. The moment he saw you, it was like love at first sight. He was smitten.

It was then that he followed you around. Even became close friends with you just so he could have an excuse to hang out. And then now, even after getting caught killing someone, you seemed fine with it, with him.

He sure is lucky, isn't he?

But his expression darken when his thoughts went to the resets that he had gone through. No matter how many times that Frisk apologized, it can never fix what's been broken.

A sudden tap to his cheek brought him back from his thoughts. Looking down, he sees you staring at him with a questioning gaze.

"You 'kay?" He beamed at your worry, eyelights turning to heart shapes.

"S'nothin'" He says to you, holding you closer to him as he nuzzle his face to yours. You fluster at the action, but didn't do anything to stop him, merely letting him do what he wants.

Safe to say that, he'll N E V E R let you go.

-------------------------------------------------

I cringe at my past self. my writing sucks.

[alex-rambles]

What would yan sans do if he caught reader during a escape attempt?

GOT ONESHOT INSPIRATION SORRY

Finally. Finally, finally, finally.

You planned it out with meticulous detail. Sans is off, making sure the human doesn't make any "mistakes." Papyrus is at a cooking lesson. No one will know you left.

Perhaps you loved Sans, at one point. But for some reason, he one day decided that you needed protected from some kind of danger. What that danger was, you don't know (although you suspect it may have to do with the human he's always watching), but Sans' way of getting rid of the threat was to take you to his house and refuse to let you leave.

That broke any love you ever had for him. Sure, you could see your friends. Family. But it sucks being stuck in the same house. It sucks having so little freedom.

You fling the door open, backpack on, ready to go, for the wind on your face, but-

"Whatcha doin'?"

No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet!

"Sans-"

"Y/N. Can you answer me? Please?"

You choose to be honest. "Leaving. I hate you. You're ruining my life."

Sans gives a dry chuckle. "Yeah? Babe, you can hate me all you'd like. Fact is, a ruined life is much better than not having one."

"I disagree. Move."

"Nope."

The perpetual grin on his face remains (ah, skeleton anatomy. Even though he's not even anatomically correct anyway). "What would I do with myself if I let that kid kill ya?"

Sans' body and voice are tense, contrary to his face.

"What about Papyrus, then?" you spit.

His eyebrows (bonebrows? what?) scrunch into his eyesockets in thought. "I uh, didn't think about him, honestly… I already saw him die once, maybe I oughtta- whatever. Beside the point. You can't leave. Not til that kid is gone."

You shake your head angrily. That's not fair. You have a whole life to live. This house's scenery is getting old, and you went out

You slam a fist forward. He slides out of the way with ease.

"Hey, trying to kill me? I'm not too high in the defense department!"

You run through the space Sans once blocked.

"Huh. Welp, that's fair, I suppose," he says.

Getting him to move, then pushing past him.

You can feel the wind as you run, it's nice. The closest you've had to wind for a while now is a fan in the house.

Until several bones block your path.

"Now, obviously these old things aren't too strong," he says, walking over. "I'm weak. By extension, my attacks are as well."

You touch one. It hurts a bit, but that's about all. It's solid.

Oh. He's just trapping you where you are.

Sans extends a hand.

"Let's go home, hm?"

[xx-celestia-xx]

Your can request anything in comment ❗

Smut or soft ❗

I do a lot of fandom :

Creepypasta

Undertale (au, all are adult even passive)

Servamp

Broken color

Seven deadly sins

The kid at the back

Yandere simulator

[rightfulcutsiepie]

Hi

can you guys forgive me for neglecting you severely

here's more food, person in my metaphorical basement.

He always thought you knew him better than this. But when he saw your face crumble from one of determination into complete despair, he didn't really know how to feel. You surely had splinters and scrapes all on the bottom of your bare feet. Such soft and warm skin ruined for something as stupid as a failed escape attempt. It's hard to escape a house in the middle of the woods with the tightest twists and turns everywhere you look for the next 30 miles.

He wasn't playing when he said no one would find you. You were heaving, scrambling to leave once more, and he just watched you fail to escape, a pitied look on his face. He appeared magically in front of you again and you screamed in anger.

"Just let me go!! Please- I just- I can't be here anymore. No more...no more."

Your shouts turn into ugly slobs and slurring as you clench his pants, head hanging as you cry.

G Sans stares down at you as you break down. He didn't know much about humans. Always ignored them, kept his distance. The surface wasn't much of a home. At least, the humans didn't treat him like he was a part of what is supposed to be his home. But when he caught eye of you, he wanted to make it work. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to be near you. So he took you. It didn't seem like anyone would come find you, anyways. They'd ignore your existence like they did his.

But he didn't know a thing about comfort. Feeding you, bathing you every day, doing your hair. You were a high maintenance species and he's learning that the hard way. But for you, he would deal with it just to find the way to treat you the way you needed to be treated. Even if it means finding you outside trying to leave him again. He loves you.

Today, he learned that not only do you need your hair tamed every day, fed 3 times a day, bathed at least once a day, have your teeth brushed twice a day, and go through whatever tasks you want to in order to busy yourself. But you also need social interactions to remain sane. Or at least that's what you say. But he knows that you're kind of saying that to find a way to be released back with the rest of society. But you've already been kidnapped and he doesn't need you spilling crucial information for how you met him in the first place. So, for the first time, he told you no.

"You're a fuckin' handful, sweetheart." G's voice was deep and gravely. It made you sick to your stomach every time he spoke. Haunts your dreams and fucks up your morning when he wakes you for breakfast. He pulls his pack of cigarettes out and picks out his second stick of the day, lighting it. It was pitch black in the woods, so the lighter accentuated his facial features when he flicked it to life. Smoke rose from the end of the stick and he put away the lighter, inhaling what couldn't hurt him before exhaling.

He teleports the both of you to his large bathroom and starts the faucet, hot water shooting out into the tub. "What soap do you want today? Mint? Lavender?" He digs through the cabinet under the sink and pulls out a few for you to choose from. When he turns, you're there on the ground, staring out into space, ignoring him. You looked shitty.

"Lavender it is." He pours the soap into the water, the light scent wafting throughout the bathroom. When he puts it away, he grabs a towel for you and walks over to you. It was only then, that you smack away his hands when he reaches down to help you stand. "Don't FUCKING touch me." G sighs and kneels down to talk to you. "Honey, I'm just trying to help. You look like shit and I know your feet hurt, so just let me take care of you, okay?"

He ignores the tears welling up in your eyes and brings you to your feet. He softly tells you to get undressed and you do. When you step into the tub, G has already turned the faucet off and your muscles relax at the heat surrounding you. G gets rid of the cigarette before starting to wash you.

He gently gets rid of the dirt and grime on your body for the next thirty minutes. It's until he dresses you and brings you to bed that you realize that you can never escape him. The house he owns his humongous, hard to navigate without him, you can't cook anything with the ingredients he has, but he somehow can. And you certainly can't escape. It's over for you and don't even wait until he leaves the room to start crying.

G wipes the falling tear, his cold boney hand making contact with your soft skin again. He can never get over the beautiful feeling. "What's wrong?" You stare up into his yellow eyes that reside in his dark sockets for the first time today. You sniffle, lip wobbling as you clutch your blankets. "What's with all this crying?" You and him both know the answer to that.

"Please let me go home." Your voice sounds dejected. Soft and waning. G coos at you. "You know I can't do that, baby. I'm sorry. I'm trying my best to take care of you here. This is your home."

[bae04xx]

Cam you write a yandere dream sans x reader please

im a little rusty with the undertale aus so sorry if this is out of character 😭 i tried my hardest xx

this is so shit man i’m sorryyyy

kinda yandere dream sans x reader

fluff ☁️

dream lay in between my legs, his head resting up against me as he read. some new book he had been raving about, i’d been struggling to focus, or even listen to anything for the last couple of days- it’s been getting on my nerves. after being cooped up in this.. space? i’m not really sure what it was called, you get a bit stuck in your own head. too conscious of your own thoughts, i get like that. it gets worse when dream is off doing god knows what for hours at a time- he doesn’t tell me much, never has, you just get used to be in the dark, doesn’t make it any more bearable but it makes you expect it.

“y/n? y/n?” dream calls out to me, breaking me from my mental rant.

“huh? yeah sorry,” i reply sheepishly as i hear a sigh from him, he places his book down.

“what are you thinking about?” he beams, i can feel him smiling despite not being able to see.

“nothing much, just wondering what you’re reading,” i lie, i know he can tell but he goes along with it anyway.

“you feel quite tense for just that,” he chuckles, “i’m going to have to meet blue and ink soon, we’ve got some things to figure out,” he massages my thigh as i lean back, exhaling softly before i decide what to say.

“..why don’t i come?” i speak, just above a whisper, my question makes him go slightly rigid.

“well, y/n, um. i’ll have to think about it,” he stammers, unsure of what to say. dream is one of the most positive people i know, i never usually see him looking for his words.

“it’s alright, i just thought it’d be nice to meet your friends, considering you spend so much time with them,”

“trust me i spent a lot more time with them before i met you, and they’re starting to have a few questions about that. maybe it’d be good if you met them,” he announced, jumping up and dusting himself off.

i quickly followed, letting him guide me to where we we’re going.

after a strange way of transportation, we arrived. there were 2 other skeletons like him, one with a paint brush and another with a blue bandana- they suited their names. who i presumed was blue jumped up when he saw me, cocking his head at dream, while ink stayed seated, his eyes narrowed at me.

“WHO’S THIS!?” blue demanded, attempting to rush over to me, only to be pulled back by ink. dream had spoken very little of them both beyond their names but i could guess ink was in charge by his demeanour.

“this is y/n, she’s been living with me for the past couple of months. i thought she should meet you two,” he smiled, his arm firmly around my waist.

“and you bought her to a meeting?” ink questioned, a slight bite in his voice.

“HELLO HUMAN Y/N, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” blue almost screamed, i didn’t really know what to say.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n,” ink said, a forced politeness to me, i could tell he didn’t mean to be rude but there was something beneath the surface. “can we speak to you alone dream?” he asked, tapping his bony fingers rhythmically against the table.

“of course you can, y/n would you mind going into the other room?” he asked, pointing to a wooden door to my left, i walked off, ignoring the goodbyes from the 3 skeletons.

there i tried to drown out their argument, i heard my name being thrown around like a game of piggy in the middle. dream drastically trying to defend not only me but myself, ink interrogating him about where i came from, who i was, if i was dangerous and how much of a risk i made them. and blue was just joining in, asking so many questions about me. i desperately tried to ignore it, wishing for some headphones, or at least to be put in a room far, far away from them.

after an hour of being on my own, dream burst into the room, a tired, forced smile on his face.

“y/n! come on, we’re going,” we sighed, trying his best to keep his normal bubbly energy up.

“what even happened?” i asked as he dragged my arm lightly.

“we’ll discuss this next time,” ink spoke calmly, clearly with ruffled feathers.

“there’s nothing more to discuss.” dream said sternly, ending the conversation- you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.

when we got home i was still very confused, as always.

“what was that all about?” i asked, while dream held me, he had told me before that my presence alone can calm him down, so i think that’s what he needed right now.

no response.

“dream?” i questioned again, waiting for an answer.

5 minutes of silence went by before he stated,

“they want to take you away from me.”

“what?” i didn’t know how to feel, or what to say, dream was trying his hardest to stay calm and remain in a happy place, yet the way he was acting was eerie.

“but i’m not going to let them do that, you’re never leaving me. i promise.”