#yandere! killer x reader

[eustassslut]

You asked for yandere kid pirates headcannons? I’ll give you yandere kid pirates headcannons!

♥️Kid uses those collars/bracelets that are put on with a lock and you will never see the key as long as you live because he likes having something on you at all times that he can use to tug you around with using his devil fruit♥️Wire definitely likes to toy with you by coming up behind you and holding a knife to your throat or a gun to your head because even though you both know he’s skilled enough with weapons to not cause any accidental harm he still likes the way you can’t help but shake with fear as to how far he’s planning on going with it♥️Heat seems like someone who would pull a trick such as letting you stay with him when the others are scaring you, but what are you going to give him in exchange for being so kind? He thinks maybe he’d be inclined to let you stay a bit longer in exchange for perhaps just a kiss? Or would you rather him throw you back out to the wolves?♥️You mentioned Killer being one of the people who controls what you wear, and he would probably enjoy dressing you up and style you like his own little doll just so he can order you to sit still while he takes plenty of photos to use as both a shaming tactic as well as new material for his spank bank (though he’d never admit that part out loud)♥️lastly I could see at least one of you getting their Jolly Roger tattooed on you either on an intimate place like a tramp stamp or right above the pubic bone or somewhere that every one can see like the side of the neck or upper back depending on who ultimately makes the best case for their preferred placement♥️

anon, these are delicious headcanons.

TW: drugging, forced dolification, harrassment, knife/trident usage to cause harm and blood

when you're first brought onto the ship, Kid forces you to wear thick metal handcuffs that can only be unlocked with his devil fruit or if you cut your hands off (which he doubts you would do just to get away from them). but as you're around longer and he grows more attached, Kid starts up a collection of handmade necklaces and bracelets for you. the collar you mentioned anon would be silver and has various small red stones, like rubies, intwined within them. if it wasn't a reminder of his cruelty and being trapped on this ship, it would be quite romantic. thus, the collar has to remain on you at all times unless you need to shower (in which case he's there just watching) and the only time he brings out the key is when you're unconscious.

Wire is cruel, arguably more cruel than Kid himself when it comes to his punishments and fantasies. he delights in nothing more than watching the pure terror in your eyes and the way your knees shake as he tortures you. he'll go to drastic measures to get his desired reactions and nothing works better than the panicked pleas that are offered to him the second he holds his trident to your neck, just pricking the skin and trailing small lines of bloods down it. the creepy bastard will respond with just licking up the blood and laughing to himself when you legs give way underneath you and he has to catch you. Wire knows you hate it when he torments you with his weapon collection, but he doesn't really care.

it's easy to overlook the way Heat uses the situation you're trapped in to his advantage. after all, with the way you're so focused on keeping yourself safe around the others it natural that you would underestimate Heat. Heat who is always more kind to you than the others, Heat that tells Wire to knock it off when he's being so cruel to you in front of him, reminds Killer that you need to eat and brings you gifts of things he knows you'd like. it's only fair after all he does that you thank him by accepting his advances. it'll start small, with him asking for a small kiss on the lips but each time you hide out in his room he'll ask for more and more.

the first time Kid deemed you well behaved enough for your own room (fitted with a lock that only they had the keys to and a transponder snail camera in the corner), Killer had forced you over to the large wardrobe in the corner. full of a wide selection clothes that Killer had tailored to fit your measurements which he took whilst you were drugged out. the clothes are expensive either stolen or handmade, things you wouldn't have been able to afford before. but with this new wardrobe and your own space comes rules. one of these being that Killer gets to pick what you wear for the day. so everyday you have to sit pretty in the room and try on every single item handed to you whilst he helps because "you're too weak to do that yourself, give it to me". then you have to let Killer pose you so he can take lots and lots of photos. except, some of those outfits he has you try on are less than appropriate and he delights in the embarrassed, shy looks you give the camera, making a mental note to use those photos later as he gets off. but be careful, if you don't listen to him, those photos could end up anywhere and with anyone.

now for the tattoo of the Jolly Roger, i think it would be suggested by either Kid or Wire. they're the only two who would originally dream up some way to permanently mark you as theirs and give you a reminder of your new life. for Wire, it would be a way of torturing you with a permanent reminder. for Kid, it would because of his possessiveness and a need to mark you for others who may want to look at you to long. but since Wire and Kid would bring the idea to the table, Heat and Killer would take it upon themselves to choose the spot. they'd be torn between choosing your back or your hip, wanting the tattoo to be in a spot where they can choose if people see it or not. eventually they'd probably choose one of your hips and pick an area where it won't hurt as much or risk leaving permanent damage (Heat's request). i can see Wire originally wanting you to be awake for it, but Killer having absolutely none of that since he doesn't want to deal with you struggling and potentially ruining it. so you'd probably get drugged with Heat sitting beside you the entire time, holding your hand and reassuring you that you'll be fine.

[meo-eiru]

I most likely won’t be able to post a good night drawing tomorrow so I hope this will keep you guys fed for the time being

throws him at you guys

[suiana]

(implied killer harem x dark web organ seller gn! reader)

"i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

"...multiple, actually."

he stares at you, jaw wide as he swallows his saliva, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. he then holds up a decapitated head in front of you, blood still dripping, indicating that the kill was fresh.

"damn. so i guess you've received heads as gifts before too, then?"

"yes, unfortunately."

he shakes his head, shoulders slumping forward as he pouts.

"but... i haven't received a brain intact before so if you could please-"

you mumble as you reach your gloved hands out for the head, yanking it before walking back into your office. you then quickly walk out, face stoic as ever before giving him his reward.

"for your service you get one kiss. hope to see you again next time."

you plant a kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the depths of the dark room. the killer stands still, staring at where you once stood before touching the place where your lips had touched. he feels his cheeks heat up, heart racing as he plans on all the things he would do next to get your attention amongst the sea of other suitors.

"ah... i hope i land a date with them next time... "

[ozzgin]

Omg i love your Yandere serial killer with a split persona so much 😭😭, can you do more headcanon about him?? Like does he aware of his other persona seeing reader kinda scared to talk to him normally thank u

Yandere! Serial Killer Scenarios

Featuring the kind, quiet man who has no idea why you look at him with terror in your eyes. This time with an official character design!

Content: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror, dubious/non-consent

[Main Story] | [More original works]

You only attempted to escape once.

His frequent warnings had begun to wear off, and your mind dared to wander towards hope. One day, during his evening walk, you ran to your bedroom and pulled out a train ticket you'd hidden earlier inside a drawer. The small piece of paper weighed heavy in your hand. Come, now, you scolded yourself. It was weeks of careful planning: anticipating his schedule, erasing your tracks, preparing the essentials. You could already smell the worn leather seats, and hear the jarring whistle of departure. Then you'd be far away from this maniac, all but a terrible memory to be locked away.

There was no time for hesitation. You grabbed a small bag and sped towards the station, frequently looking over your shoulder, muttering silent prayers. Once you made it to your compartment, you exhaled in relief. A relief you hadn't felt in months, washing over your body and relaxing your tense muscles. You climbed the stairs, and searched for your seat. Has someone misread their ticket? You found your spot occupied by a stranger.

"What did I tell you about running away?" his deep voice echoed across the empty hall.

The walk back home was silent. You were convinced this was your end. You'd arrive at the house, and he'd cut you into pieces. Your lips curled in a horrified grimace, mind flooded with foreign feelings: your nails plucked apart with pliers, a burning sting after each detachment. The roots of your teeth grinding and screeching within the bone of your jaw, until all that's left is a fleshy, gaping wound. Plop, plop, as each little souvenir falls into the jar.

He slammed the door shut and stared you down. You looked at the floor, but all you could see were the grimy ID cards of all the women who never made it out of this damned house. You were next.

His large hand ruffled your hair, and you glanced up in disbelief.

"This stays between us. Mother better not hear that her soon-to-be daughter in law tried to run away. Especially now that she's warmed up to you. Are we clear?"

You nodded desperately. God, how pathetic of you. But being trapped was better than rotting underground like the rest of them. You just wanted to live.

You can always tell whether it's him, or him. It's the silence. Or lack of, for that matter. He likes the quietness, the muffled ticking of the clock, the busy rattling in the kitchen, your laughs, your chatter. You'll sit together and listen to the rain, or read your books across from each other. There's no need for words, you know you can be at peace.

He likes music. When you hear the record player, you know it's your cue to perform. You exit your room - it's better if he doesn't call you down himself - and descend to the main area. The stairs creak louder, the wallpaper begins to yellow. It's almost as if the house ages with the music, and you tumble back in time.

He's been waiting for you, naturally. How's a man meant to spend his evenings, if not with his adored wife? He'll reach out for your hand, and invite you to a slow dance. Those are the worst moments. The tight, suffocating hold, his deranged stare drilling into your very soul, the whispered promises: that you're forever his, and you'll never find happiness anywhere else. He knows it. It's the same for him, really. Everything he's ever needed lies within your embrace.

Some days, the charade doesn't last long. You simply won't be in the mood to be kissed, to be stripped naked and fondled by his murderous hands. So you'll just pout and gaze ahead. It angers him terribly.

"Wretched whore. Do I look like a beggar?"

He'll shove you aside and make his way out, taking his tools with him. He hates asking for your affection and would rather take his anger out somewhere else. You know he won't hurt you, or force himself on you, which means someone else will have to pay for your disrespect. And yet, it's the only freedom you have around him - the privilege of refusing him and living to see the next day. The rest aren't as lucky. You'd rather not think too deeply about it.

My honey, I know With the dawn that you will be gone But tonight, you belong to me Just to little old me.

What a bizarre thing, to harbor such hatred towards the one you love. You've never met anyone kinder. He's thoughtful, patient, caring. He knows everything about you and lives to serve you. He's your best friend and your lover. He's the one you want to marry one day. But he's also...well...him. And you can't have one without the other.

"No, Mother, it isn't tacky," he barks at the shattered mirror, adjusting your necklace. "And you know what? It's up to (Y/N) to decide if she wants to wear your wedding jewelry."

"It's nice", you respond curtly. You look into the empty reflection and nod. He likes it when you take his side in front of Mother.

"I knew you'd agree. We're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?" he smiles and zips up the old dress. You shiver: wearing a dead woman's gown was not part of your wedding plans. The corset is tightened, and you gasp. His hands are tense.

"I know he proposed to you. And what a stupid grin you had on your face when it happened! You never act like that around me."

He doesn't call me a bitch, for starters, you think to yourself. You shuffle on the bed, trying to loosen up the garment, but he swiftly pins you down onto the mattress.

"Not that it matters. Would you like to know why?" he inquires with a familiar glimmer of jealousy in his dilated pupils. "Because I'll always be your first. You know it, I know it. He never will.

At the end of the day, you belong to me."

To compete with oneself. Nonsense. Utter madness, all of it. The house; the drawer filled with gory trophies; the nightly talks with Mother dearest, whose bones have most likely turned to dust by now; the bloodied scalpels; the embrace of a man who fills you with warmth and terror.

You're part of it now.

[cold-kitty]

The winner of this week's poll was... Yandere Murderer/Serial Killer!

Includes: murder (not darling), nsfw (not with darling), stalking, a little fluff, cameras

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Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer that had planned to kill you as his next victim.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stalks you to figure out your routine to find when you're most vulnerable, but he ends up finding you cute.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't kill you right away just for his entertainment, he wants to figure out what makes you tick and use it against you. you're so cute when you're angry!

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to see you as an actual person and not just someone for him to kill, which is a first.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to really like you, who waits until you're not at home before installing discreet cameras in your house.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you in his free time, every second of it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who touches himself when you do, zooming in on your hand on your genitals.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who starts to leave you little gifts. your favorite candy bar? you suddenly have one. you like a certain animal? you have a new plushie. you wanna watch a movie? you suddenly have the DVD. he loves seeing your face light up every time you get a gift.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels enraged when someone picks on you. how fucking dare they! they should be hung on a meat hook like the animal they are!

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who feels his heart sink when he sees the look on your face when you find the body of the person, he wanted to comfort you. he would be more careful hiding the bodies now. there's also an onslaught of gifts the next day.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who finally, finally decides to take you. he makes sure he's gentle with you, he doesn't dare inject you with anything, he uses a simple cloth dipped in chloroform. he doesn't want to restrain you, but he's scared you'll run off.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who holds you until you wake up, rocking you gently.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who's genuinely so happy to have you now, even if you're scared or don't like him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who showers you in gifts and love, who cuddles you while still respecting your personal space. he doesn't dare to force you into anything with him, he loves you too much.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who doesn't stop trying, who waits patiently for your love even if it hurts him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who stops killing people for you, he knows you don't like it and he doesn't like how scared it makes you.

If you end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he immediately starts breaking down in happy tears. he's clinging to you, burying his head in your neck or chest, desperately kissing anything he can. he's so goddamn happy, he's waited so long for this.

If you don't end up falling for Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer, he'll just wait, he needs you to love him back.

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How was this for my first fic? Feel free to ask for expansions of this idea, like darlings that act in a certain way. Mean, willing, scared, etc..

~🐈‍⬛

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader

Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...

Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡

The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.

"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.

"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.

"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."

Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."

Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."

"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"

Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.

"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.

At least, that's what she told herself.

The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.

“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.

"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.

THUD.

The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.

“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.

She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?

Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."

“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.

Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.

She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.

He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—

But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."

Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.

But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.

She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.

It was a trap.

Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.

Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.

Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.

Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.

Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.

But she wasn't alone.

In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.

One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.

But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.

Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.

As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.

The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.

But then the door creaked open.

The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.

He stepped inside.

The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.

"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.

"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.

"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."

Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."

"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."

Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.

"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."

She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.

Then, suddenly, he stood up.

“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."

Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.

He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."

Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.

She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.

Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.

Then the noise began.

The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.

Should I make a part 2?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. ��𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[bloodblanks]

kinks

ft: eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, ben drowned, slenderman

author's note: this fanfiction will contain explicit sexual content, including various kinks, fetishes, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

eyeless jack

biting.

the taste of human flesh is already something that jack likes, but even more so when it comes to your flesh specifically. it’s all about the way his teeth sink into the softness of your flesh, the taste of your blood flowing into his mouth; it’s all too delicious. however, there’s another darker side of him that relishes in the way you squirm against him, or the sound escaping your lips—the perfect concoction of pain and pleasure.

marking.

this comes alongside biting, but he enjoys owning you and branding you as his. either with the aforementioned bitemarks, or with hickeys—although he tends to bite during them, anyway—or by carving his name into you. that’s his favourite.

knifeplay.

technically, in his case it’d be scalpelplay. anyhow, he loves running his scalpel along the surface of your skin, tracing along the curvature of your body, or slicing thin lines and outlining your bone structure, especially your ribs.

bloodplay.

this goes hand in hand with knifeplay as well as biting. first and foremost, he relishes in the taste of your blood. it’s the closest he can get to tasting you without hurting you too much. however, he also likes to play with it. he’ll smear it across your skin, painting you with beautiful crimson, but he’ll also lap up your blood, then proceed to kiss you, making you taste yourself and then seeing the stains on your soft lips.

breeding.

there’s just something about him being a demon that gives him a primal urge to want to mate you, breed you, fill you with his seed and impregnate you.

creampies.

this branches off breeding, but his favourite place to cum is obviously inside you; he loves watching his cum drip out of you.

masky

dominance/submission.

frankly, tim is a freak. which will become more and more obvious as you read through this list. anyway. the most important thing for tim in terms of kinks is dominance. he wants to assert power and control over you and enforce that you’re his and his alone. he wants you to submit to him and know that you’ll do whatever he wants whenever he wants, whether you like it or not.

bondage.

tim loves bondage of all sorts. be it tying you up or using chains—he likes it all. it only adds to the power he has over you, considering you’re all tied up, helpless and at his whim. his particular favourite is chaining you to the wall, amongst others, such as tying your hands behind your back while he fucks you from behind. he loves seeing you struggle against your bindings to no avail, especially if he’s edging, overstimulating, or hurting you.

restraints.

closely related to bondage is restraints, such as gags, handcuffs, and blindfolds. they restrict or deprive you of something or another, and the simple fact that he can take that away from you, turns him on. he’s 50/50 on the gags, though, because on one hand he likes it when you can’t talk or even protest against anything he does, but on the other hand he loves hearing all the sounds you make.

edging.

he enjoys edging you, and he’ll really take it to the next level by having you restrained, unable to move or do anything to stop him as he fingers you and plays with your clit, maybe even going down on you or using a toy of some sort. whatever it is, he loves bringing you right to the brink of orgasm and then stopping just before. he’ll do it numerous times, over and over until you’re on the verge of tears and begging for him to please just let you cum.

begging.

the sound of you begging is nothing short of music to his ears. and that’s why he’ll make you do it so often. he’ll make you beg for him to fuck you, he’ll make you beg for him to let you cum, he’ll make you beg for pretty much each and every single bit of pleasure he gives you. he relishes in how powerful it makes him feel and it’s so hot for him to have you begging and pleading for him, desperate for him to allow you any pleasure at all. he loves knowing that it’s all fully dependant on him; he can control whether or not you feel good and just how good you feel. and there’s nothing you can say or do about it.

overstimulation.

when he’s finally satisfied with how desperate you are and how much you’ve pleaded for him, he’ll finally let you cum. and while it may feel good the first time he lets you, you know it’s only a matter of time before he does it again and again, until you’re once again begging and crying for him to stop, telling him that you’re too sensitive and it’s too much.

sadism/masochism.

tim not only likes to control whether or not you feel pleasure, but he also likes to do the same for pain. not only does he just like it by default, but it also closely ties into and relates to his other kinks.

spanking.

he likes spanking you. bending you over his lap and spanking you with his hand, or even a paddle or his belt. he loves making you count each and every strike, but not as much as he enjoys making you thank him for it. he likes it when you’re tied up the most so that he can watch you squirm yet unable to get away. he’ll also spank you during sex if you’re doing doggystyle. the sight of your pretty ass, nice and red with heat radiating off your cheeks, is delightful for him.

hair pulling.

tim will pull your hair, especially if he’s fucking you from behind. he also likes it when you’re giving him head, but one of his favourite scenarios is just having you bend over a counter, being able to tug your hair and make you arch your back for him as he thrusts into you.

slapping.

straight up, across the face. bonus points if it’s in combination with him pulling you up by the hair.

whipping.

most of the time, spanking, hairpulling and slapping is enough for him. however, on occasion, if he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he’ll whip you with his belt as well. he’ll use the leather for the rest of your body, but then the metal buckle for your ass.

knifeplay.

sometimes, he’ll even bring out his switchblade for a bit of fun, holding it to your throat or flicking it across your cheek lightly.

powerplay.

as mentioned, tim loves unbalanced power dynamics. this really shows itself in that he enjoys being fully, or at least mostly clothed while you’re naked. the power imbalance turns him on a lot.

pet play.

he isn’t particularly into pet play, but he indulges in some aspects of it, such as using a collar and leash on you. tim likes tugging you around with the leash, or pulling your head back, cutting off your oxygen supply while he fucks you from behind with it. he’ll also probably invest in a (human-sized, obviously) cage.

breathplay.

just like with all other aspects of sex for him, tim wants control, and what better control than having his hands wrapped around your neck?

degradation.

he’s not super heavy on this, but he’ll say things like, “who’s my slut?” or “who do you belong to?” in bed.

oral. (receiving)

tim doesn’t mind giving oral, but he likes receiving it far more. however, he isn’t satiated with a simple blow job. much like other activities, he’ll want your hands tied up behind your back, so that you can’t stop him while he has his hand wrapped in your hair, holding your head still as he brutally fucks your throat. you’d have to learn to take it, because he wouldn’t care if you were gagging or choking, it would only further arouse him if anything.

dacryphilia.

tim really gets off to you crying, whether it be from edging, overstimulation, pain, or even just when you tear up as his cock hits the back of your throat.

bonus: tim will spit into your mouth.

hoodie

corruption.

brian sees you as an angel. something pure, delicate, ethereal. while he has this nice, friendly, sweet demeanour, he knows himself that he is a monster deep down, a monster that wants nothing more than to corrupt that innocence of yours. he doesn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but he sure as hell wants to ruin you.

lingerie.

brian loves lingerie. he really likes the way the fabric clings tightly to your body, not enough to cover you but enough to accentuate your form, somehow making your already flawless body even better if that was even possible.

lace.

lingerie in general is nice, but what really gets him going is lace. white lace. not only does it look exquisite on you, it also complements your angel-like innocence, adding more flames to the fuel that is his corruption kink.

thigh highs.

technically, it doesn’t have to be thigh highs. while brian does particularly favour white thigh highs, he also likes other leggings/stockings/pantyhose, provided they’re white and sheer or with lace. he likes sheer, semi-translucent long socks, or even other items of clothing; it gives off the impression that he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be, which really turns him on. and of course, he appreciates lace socks, the ones that go up to your ankles or knees as well.

bonus points if you pair it with the lingerie.

skirts/dresses.

there’s something so feminine and delicate about skirts or dresses, especially if they’re well, white and/or with lace, that’s so sensual to him. not to mention it allows him easy access. he can just flip up your skirt or dress, seeing your cute lace panties underneath, proceed to push them aside and just fuck you…

praise.

brian will say things such as “you’re such a good girl,” “you’re taking me so well, angel,” along with incoherent ramblings of how precious and perfect you are.

oral. (giving)

he enjoys going down on you. he loves the way you taste and he gets off to your moans, the way you arch your back, the way you squirm against his face, the way your hands tangle in his hair, everything about it is just delightful for him.

ddlg.

more specifically, daddy kink. brian really likes being called daddy, and he will often call you nicknames such as ‘princess’ and ‘babygirl.’

sensory deprivation.

to be precise, blindfolds. it’s erotic, taking away your sight and leaving you in the dark, unknowing of what he plans to do next, oversensitive and gasping at his touch.

ticci toby

exhibitionism.

nothing gets toby more excited than fingering you in public, under the table at a dinner or somewhere else where people wouldn’t notice. he’ll fuck you in some alley or back of a building, a place that people shouldn’t generally notice but would depend on how well you can stifle your moans, how well you can hold back from making sounds so that nobody would know the indecency the two of you were up to. he loves how good and innocent you seem in public while at the same time, just between the two of you, you were dirty and spreading your legs for him.

degradation.

toby goes hard with the degradation. he’ll tell you things such as “you’re such a fucking slut,” “you’re my useless whore,” “you’re a worthless cumdump,” all the while he’s fucking you. he really likes the idea of using you, having you be his perfect little fucktoy, for him to do whatever he pleases with.

ps: if you beg him to use you, he’ll literally fall in love with you. no better words could come out of your mouth.

free use.

he likes having you at his disposal, ready for him whenever he wants.

begging.

there’s few things he likes more than listening to you beg; it’s just such a humiliating position for you to be in, and he loves pushing you to that point so that he can hear and relish in how pathetic you are for him.

experimentation!

first of all, toby likes a little bit of everything. spanking, choking, bondage, the list goes on. but most of all, he likes to experiment. toby loves trying new things in the bedroom all the time, be it new positions, unusual kinks, roleplay scenarios, he’ll do it all. he’s even happy to try switching roles every once in a while.

roleplay.

seriously, toby will try anything, and he loves roleplaying different scenarios with you just to switch things up.

anal.

this one relates to both experimentation and trying new things. why stick to one hole when you can have two?

toys.

his main interest is buttplugs, but he’ll enjoy using vibrators as well as other toys on you.

bonus: toby is a switch, as implied above. he’s more dominant than submissive, and if you don’t like to dominate, that’s perfectly fine with him and he doesn’t mind. however, he would be ecstatic to have you reverse the roles and tell him how much of a good boy he is.

jeff the killer

rough sex.

jeff likes it rough. he’s particularly into fucking you from behind, although his favourite position would be up against a wall. he likes it hard and rough and fast; being able to watch your curves bounce as he slams in and out of you, being able to feel your nails scratch against his back as you writhe in pleasure, and there’s nothing better than hearing you gasping and screaming his name.

knifeplay.

jeff likes knifeplay, however he’s different from jack. while he will sometimes run the blade along your skin, what he primarily likes to do is hold it to your neck during sex. he enjoys watching you tense up, as well as ultimately pressing the blade in ever so slightly just to draw a bit of blood while he orgasms inside you.  

oral. (receiving)

jeff has nothing against giving oral, he’s not super into it but he’ll do it if you want him to. however, the real treat for him is receiving. he thoroughly enjoys having you suck his dick, feeling your pretty lips wrapped around it, struggling to take in his length. he likes pulling your hair during it, guiding you and bobbing your head up and down on his member. he enjoys having you start off nice and slow, maybe even teasing him a bit, but tease him enough and he’ll get impatient and quicken the pace. he likes when you swallow, especially if you open your mouth and show him before you do it.

bonus points if you make eye contact as you during all of this. oh, and he’ll literally love you forever if you deepthroat.

ben drowned

spanking.

ben isn’t that kinky. he’s happy browsing the front page of pornhub, essentially. he’s into things such as spanking—he’ll gladly bend you over his lap, or just spanking you while fucking you doggystyle. he prefers using hands, but sometimes he’ll bring out the paddle, too. he likes the ones that leave heart-shaped marks.

pet play.

ben is kind of your average gamer boy. he likes cat girls. it’s not really that much pet play, as much as it specifically cat girls, but whatever. he likes it when you wear a pair of cat ears as well as having a cat tail buttplug, although he’s not that into anal.

cosplay.

this goes along with the cat girl thing, but ben enjoys seeing you in cosplays. to be specific, maid outfits. he would be pleased with almost any cosplay, though. nurse outfits, schoolgirl uniforms, you name it, he probably likes it.

breathplay.

choking in general is nice for him; he likes the way your neck feels in his grip, so fragile and delicate. he likes the way your smaller hands instinctively grab onto his wrist, he finds it adorable. his favourite though? the bathtub. he likes fucking you over a bathtub, with you bent over the edge, your ass nicely on display for him, the water in the tub filled up until the very brim, and your pretty little head getting pushed under the water.

other than that, ben is relatively vanilla.

slenderman

tentacles.

slender loves using his tentacles on you. seriously though, tentacles are very versatile. not only can he fuck you with them, but he can also employ them as tools for bondage. he’ll wrap his tentacles around your wrists, binding your arms. he’ll use them to pull and then hold your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him to fuck you. his tentacles are strong, strong enough to lift you up, suspending you in midair while he fucks you. he thoroughly enjoys having a tentacle in your mouth, feeling your tongue, soft and wet swirl around it, sucking on it like you would his dick. he’ll relish in that while he has another tentacle pumping in and out of your cunt, and a third one filling up your ass. he loves having all three of your holes filled up at the same time; there’s no better way to know that you belong to him entirely. sometimes he’ll even slide two in the same hole, having one pump in while the other pulls out.

so that by default includes bondage, suspension, anal, and double penetration.  

size kink.

he’s approximately two and a half metres tall, so it’s safe to say he towers over you, especially if you’re smaller. he enjoys pinning you down, taking your tiny wrists in his larger hands, lifting you up and sitting you on his cock because you’re so light, so tiny, so delicate. he just wants to stretch you out and fill you up with his length.

oral.

slender loves both giving and receiving oral. how can he resist watching you struggle to take in his length, your tiny hands on his thighs as you bob your head up and down on his dick, tearing up ever so slightly when it hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag? but of course, he loves pleasuring you as well, with his tongue, long and pointed and able to reach the entirety of your insides, all the while he has a tentacle playing with your clit, or sometimes just his hand.

dirty talk.

slender is able to communicate telepathically. that means he can say the nastiest, most unholy things to you while you’re out in public, without anyone noticing or even suspecting that anything was up. you’d have to pretend that everything is fine, while you’re out drinking coffee and he’s trying to get you all hot and bothered by telling you in detail how he would ravish you later that evening. another side of this is that he loves talking dirty in bed too, and you can hear and almost feel him speak inside your head all the while he’s pounding away at your insides.

breeding.

something about being a supernatural, inhuman being makes it so erotic for him to breed you, to impregnate you, to create a half-human baby with you. he just wants to fill you up with his seed over and over again until it’s leaking out of every hole of yours.

author’s note: i cannot believe i wrote this. i am a sinner. i am going to hell.

[lustlovehart]

Bitten Hope

A/n: loosely inspired by @merakiui ‘s DRU Jade and Death Row Floyd, not exact though, but I really liked her writing on their serial killer counterparts and took inspo!!

Pairing: Serial Killer! Jade Leech x Reader x Serial Killer! Floyd Leech

Summary: Interrogating criminals is your job, it’s rare for that to go wrong. Though, it’s even more rare for them to be infatuated with their investigator.

Warnings: Heavy Yandere [mdni] , Blood, Biting, Cuffing, Kidnapping, Violence, Dub-con kissing (not on mouth), aged 18+, Imprisonment

You’re stood on the other side of the one-way-looking glass. You can see them, but they can’t return that gaze. The two of them aren't eerily silent. No… they’re laughing and conversing as if this was just a regular brotherly reunion. To them, it might just be that, two brothers who are finally talking to one another after a year of only speaking through calls.

“Seems you’re still the same, Floyd”

“Well duhh, I don’t have that time you do to plan them out, I jus’ wanna get it over with”

“Perhaps that’s why you were caught much earlier than me.”

“Well you got jailed too so that doesn't change anythin’” Floyd leans back in the chair, his head craning up to look at the bright buzzing lights of the room.

“Ya think they’re gonna bring Shrimpy in?“

To this statement, the other twin looks at him, curiosity filled in those mismatched eyes.

“My, are you saying [name] is here?“

“Oh right, I didn’t tell ya cuz it woulda’ been lame if you knew,“ his head jumps back into place, a bubbly smile replacing his previously disinterested expression, “Yep! Shrimpy’s here, ain’t that nice~“

On the other side of the glass, you’re left balling your fist into itself.

How… How could they—!

A steady hand on your shoulder breaks your trance, the familiar sight of bright red somewhat comforting the tension in your joints.

“They were off-putting in our school years but, no one would’ve known how it was gonna turn out this way.” You place your hand above his, offering a smile to him to show your body easing itself.

“Yo Jade.”

“Yes?” Once again, Floyd’s mood changes, shifting from cheerful to… scary. The same aura can be felt from Jade but to a more concealed degree.

“I wanna break the glass.” You and Riddle's head turn immediately at the man’s suggestion.

“Pray tell how would you do that?” he tilts his head and strikes his signature close-eyed smile at his twin “And why do you wanna do that?”

“Dunno, wait till these cuffs come off.” His hands lift as the sound of clanging chains resonate through the empty room, his brother only smiling as he looks down at his own. “And I don’t like the vibe I got on the other side.”

You quickly move out of Riddles range, his hand grasping for where your shoulder previously was.

“Wha— You’re going in alre—?! [Name]—” You don’t reply, the sound of the door swinging open and shutting filling the silence of the space.

“Oh my. You should be more careful, any stronger and we could’ve broken free from these.” You sit on the other side of the steel table, crossing your legs as you lean into the cold metal.

Floyd’s been on death row for a month now, but he hasn’t given any leads. And Jade… he just got here. Maybe if the both of them are together we can…

“When. You can tell me.”

“When are we gonna marry Shrimpy? As soon as we get out—“

“No. When did you start? Killing. When did you start being murderers.” Jade lays his hands on the table, his biceps and forearms visibly buff as well as veiny.

“When do you think?”

“ Are you avoiding the question?”

“No, of course not, I’m just simply asking if you know—“ Floyd’s upper half quickly flops onto the surface, a loud sigh interrupting you and Jade.

“Since the last year of school, now can we talk about Shrimpy ‘stead, talkin bout us is boring”

“Floyd…” Jade's lips are pursed in a line, he expected his brother's outburst but he hoped it would come later compared to sooner.

���Whaat, the faces people made when I strangled them aren’t fun to think about anymore,” his body stays flopped, only turning his head as his smile is aimed towards you. “So shrimpy, yah still single right~? Savin marriage for us yeah?”

“You… I am not!”

“But you’re still available? I see.” Their flirtatious comments only serve as a way to piss you off even more.

“You two… I’m not going to marry serial killers…!”

“Then do not think of us as killers, think of us as your lovers.”

“I will not…! Ugh… just be quiet and answer me.” They don’t reply only giving you the smiles they would flash at you when school was still happening. I can’t be obvious with my questioning—

“About 250.”

“Jade, what are you talking about…?”

“You were about to ask us how many victims we’ve had yes?”

…

…What? What? We only linked 8 of those murders to Jade how could he possibly—

“Floyd, what about you?” Floyd looks up at the sky, his face almost cartoony as he ponders about the answer as if he’s on TV.

“Uhhh, dunno. I didn’t count. Was a big number too though.

… How did these two even—

…

“ Where are these people now? How did you do it to them?”

“Shrimpy wants to know real bad huh’. Okay, I’ll tell yah.“ you didn’t think his grin could grow any bigger but it does, somehow. “but yah gotta lean in close.”

Ignoring the obvious risk of getting too near, if you do this… you have the opportunity to finally know what’s happened to all these people. All those missing person cases… you can find out just how many of them were the faults of these two.

You look back at the glass for a moment. Knowing that Riddle is on the other side eases your tension, albeit only a little. Well…

You hope he’s on the other side.

Your body slowly leans towards him, each second making you wanna back out, but pushing through it despite that gnawing feeling.

Floyd’s smile seems to be the biggest it's ever been. His face comes closer to your own, his voice low as the whisper that leaves his lips sends chills throughout your body.

“Ya ready?”

It happens too fast. He’s swift with the movement, before you can fully lean back to avoid it, you can feel it. His lips are felt on your cheek before the tender texture is replaced with sharp edges that dig into the nape of your neck. Your fingers lock into his hair, immediately pulling yourself free from his Jaws.

The chair you originally sat on is knocked back onto the floor. The clattering sound of the seat resonated through the walls.

“Awwww shrimpy looks cute with red all over!” He flashes his teeth, once white canines, are now painted in red. The sight makes you freak out, both of your hands flying up to the wound in your neck, putting immediate pressure on the bite.

He didn’t hit anything vital, only deep enough to bleed me… but if I don’t get this wrapped up it might get infected.

You don’t spare them any more words, immediately walking to the door and gripping the handle. You swing it down pulling the exit inwards.

…

It won’t open.

It won’t…

“My I do wonder where that other officer went…” Your head stays locked on the handle, not even daring to turn back to face them.

“Goldfish s’out already? I wanted him to see you in red, ain’t that his favorite color?”

“How did you…?”

“Tarts, they do smell incredibly sweet, don’t they? Though, I do prefer eating their consumers instead.” It’s uncanny. Jade is putting on that… that smile…! He’s spotless, unlike his brother, the brother that’s exuding such a joyful aura with blood splattered on his mouth… The brother doesn’t seem bothered at all by the iron liquid that is absorbed in his jumpsuit.

“So that’s how… That’s how you covered up the rest of your victims…”

“Yes. Now do you understand self-control as well?” His eyes slowly trail down to your hands as he speaks, his tongue quickly wiping his lips before retreating inside. “It takes a lot of restraint to not take a bite out of such a lovely meal. I’m quite jealous of Floyd.”

“You wanna…?”

“Eat you? Oh no, not anymore. But, just a little nibble doesn’t hurt any—“

Clang!!

Your focus is caught by the sudden explosion of sound. Your eyes quickly shift to the interruption.

“So that’s how you gotta do it. It ain’t that much Jade, you jus’ pull up real hard.”

…

Floyd is out.

“It was that simple? Then let’s be quick.” Jade follows his brother's instructions, the same clanging sound ringing in the space. “It’s much more comfortable not having our hands chained to that cold metal table. It seems I even have bruises on my wrist from such capture.” He’s not lying, his wrists are littered with purple bruises, but you bet he was the one who caused those himself, not the cuffs.

“Look look!” the two of them circle the table, each step they take more menacing than the last. “Jades got a booboo on him, you gonna kiss it all nice and better right~“

Jade plays along seamlessly, wiping away tears that aren’t there at all. “Yes… It hurts a lot, it would feel much better if someone made it all better.“

“you…! I’m not going to-!“

“Jades hurt. You gonna fix him or what?“ His voice is deep, it’s not playful anymore, and his face is practically inches from your own, it’s horrifying... If you keep rejecting them you… You don’t wanna guess what’ll happen.

Riddle… Deuce… Why isn’t anybody coming?! Even if Riddle left for a moment he should be back, even then someone would’ve checked up on us…! Where… where…?!

“Won’t you heal me, nurse?“

This was so stupid! I should’ve come in with Riddle, or told him to come in with me! With how quickly I rushed in I didn't bring any of my weapons I’m…!

Your knees give out beneath you, falling onto the floor while the twins followed you down. Your fingers reach towards Jade, pulling his limb close to your mouth. The two of them smile at you, watching carefully each movement with an overabundance of joy.

Your lips make contact with the skin of his wrist. You don’t focus on the texture of his hand, only putting all your attention on this task.

“It still hurts dear, I would like more.“

This is humiliating.

“Shrimpy’s cute kissin’ you like that, I wanna take another bite.“

You keep going with Jade, placing more kisses on that one wrist before transferring to the next one.

Someone… Anyone please…!

Floyd leans into the side of your neck, the side completely clean and, un-marked. His mouth opened and his hot breath coated the skin of your side. You don’t stop your assault on Jade's hands, only acting as if Floyd isn’t readying himself to bite you again.

I’m gonna die. These two are gonna kill me.

To your right, wind blows next to you, the brighter light of the hallways illuminating into the room.

Someone… Someone came…! I’m free…!

“Rid–!... dle…?“

“You two… You couldn’t wait any longer than 20 minutes could you?!“

A man wearing a black hoodie and surgical mask walks in, the baseball cap and sunglasses covering any distinguishing traits he could possess.

“Ah, seems we forgot. Forgive us Azul.“

“It's not our fault you took so long, it wasn’t fun waitin’, we just wanted to mess with Shrimpy for a bit, s’not fair you got to play while we were locked in here.“

No… No…!

It’s been years since you’ve seen the con man. His looks have changed, but, he’s still the same it seems.

Hopefully… he doesn’t work out. Distantly, you can remember a point in time when you had wrestled Azul during your school years, albeit it was more of a surprise attack than an actual fight. You won against him.

Against the twins, even in NRC they had insane strength, so directly fighting them would’ve been a death wish, but with Azul, you might have a chance.

You pull all your leftover strength into your calves, pushing yourself up from the space between Floyd and Jade, ready to throw yourself at the man.

Before you even have a chance you’re pulled back down as a needle is pointed at your face. Jade's hand is tightly wrapped around your throat as Floyd’s arms squeeze around your waist.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a ‘party’ Is that not what you said to us back then?”

“You guys are leaving? Why?! A… special meeting? But I made all of you presents…! Look, I spent so much time making little eels and even an octopus…! Don’t go yet—! Oh, you’re not…? Great!”

“Where… Where’s Riddle…? Deuce…? Please I need to know—”

“They’re alive. Just asleep.” Azuls eyes look to the side, a little red blob reflected on his lenses when he turns.

“Really…? Good good…”

“But only if you behave.” His leather shoes take a few steps forward before kneeling down, his eyes scanning your body. Mostly unharmed, besides the vicious bite Floyd left on you. “Floyd did you really—” his eyes pinch together before his finger massages the nose of his bridge, the most exhausted exhale leaving his mouth at the sight,” It's… whatever, unless you two wanna stay on death row we have to go now.”

My best choice is to let them go, I'm unarmed and no one else is coming so… I’ll just use the building's cameras to figure out what they plan to do next.

“You guys can leave, no ones… no one’s going to stop you—” your body is lifted into the air, your stomach having the sharp pain of a shoulder blade driving into it.”w-wait stop…!” your legs kick and flail all around, but the hold Floyd has on your body doesn’t falter for a second.

Before you can lift your arms to hit him from behind, Jade locks them together using a spare pair of handcuffs he stole off Riddle’s unconscious body. His finger plays with the chain between the cuffs as a smirk plays on his lips at your struggle.

“I wouldn’t advise it.” His finger makes your hands move up and down before hooking the underside with his index. He doesn’t let up, successfully locking your hand from further use.

“We have 10 minutes to drive out of here, you two are lucky this place is on the edge of town.”

No… Please…!

Before you leave the room, your eyes take a glance at Riddle's body. It’s only a slight bit of movement, but you can see him stir up, his head turning to face the doorway.

He can’t move. It’s over.

The last thing you see before being swept away is the bright red of his pupils widening at the sight of you bitten and taken.

“[Name]… Stop… Don’t take…!”

A quick glance is all it takes before his eyes shut close again, the last thing his vision pieces together being the sight of your form carried away from view. The tall silhouettes of Jade and Floyd shrouding in shadows as they leave through the doors, the hooded figure waving his hand before following behind. The trail of officers littered behind them is a sad sight.

As they leave, their disappearance will leave a stir in their community, all that’s left being the view of their successful escape.

“[Name] [Last], missing, please call 911 if any leads.”

———

This is leaning towards heavier dark tones than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Elite Serial Killer (2)

Part 1

Like frightened deer you scatter

In your opinion, you get pretty far

At one point climbing up high to see where the lights of the small town were

You were making great time 

“(Y/n)! Down here!”

The sun was rising and while you were hesitant you did go to meet ‘Piggie’

She seems high-spirited for such a horrible situation

But she shares the berries she’s found that weren’t poisonous

And clues you in on some helpful camping knowledge

So you’re none the wiser when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head 

 Waking bleary-eyed to the tight hold of a bloody rope around you 

The sun has long since set and all you can gather is that you're tied to a tree 

You hesitate to call for the girl only for somebody’s nails to dig into your scalp

It's her and she looks deranged covered in dirt and blood (it doesn’t look like it's hers)

Being sure to throw rocks and kick at you for emphasis she explains how she already knows the major twist of this hunt

They own the town 

No help would have been given if you had arrived there

Or even to the airport 

So she says she’s going to stand her ground to entrap them the second they come for the bait

And the bait just so happens to be you

When you ask her why it’s because she hates your pity

“At least when they kick me in the dirt they have the decency to know I belong there!”

She sounds demented 

But determined

So much so you’re sure if this was a movie she’d be the 'final girl'

But you’re here so that’s not happening

Hearing sticks snap and bushes shake you’re sure they’re on the way

So you shut your eyes in fear

Saying your final prayers as you feel the heat of another person stalking up to you

“How disappointing I expected you to get farther.”

It sounds like something he’d say before lobbing off your head

So you prepare for the oncoming blow 

Only to hear a shotgun fire off 

‘Piggie’ screams

So you look up to see Wille grinning madly in that direction before turning back to you 

He holds your face gently but firmly

Turning your head as he examines you 

“She really did a number on you.” 

He sighs snapping his fingers 

An unknown masked person cuts through the ropes 

Holding you on their back and securing the back of your knees

“Take them back to my room and patch them up I’ll gladly delight in my prize once I’ve finished.”

Wille takes off in a giddy sprint as he watches another masked servant drive off in a quad bike with you on the back

Now that the only real stake in this hunt is out he can really let loose

He’s been doing this for a long while

Enticing the masses at whatever new college or preparatory school he could 

Providing a plentiful harvest for his family 

And it’s great for a while but unfortunately, he just hasn’t found what’s missing 

His mother and father have each other and their pets respectively

His brother does as well

And then his sister…well she enjoys just hunting

But he was never like her

He took care of his appearance more, grew his hair long, and wasn’t pretending to be an apathetic prick

Though he could see how easy it was to become that way

He hates how forward people are when they want something from him or his family

He does admire the tenacity of the poor

But among the fellow rich? 

Absolutely unforgivable

He can only imagine the terrified faces he stalks being that of those hated elites

And of course, in the midst of a mission to harvest is when he becomes aware of you

It’s not really any one thing you do 

You just happen to exist close enough to his latest harvest grounds

It’s not your college but something of a rival school

And all it takes is one mutual and he’s whipped

Suddenly he’s decided that you're the perfect one for him

The prize  that’s greater than anything he could buy

To be Continued

[unearthly-doting]

Heyyyy could you possibly do

Finding their soulmate: creepypasta edition

any creepypasta characters you want (including Jeff the killer & Homicidal Liu pls 🙏)

finding their soulmate: creepypasta edition.

notes: crying i miss my colored text :( i got another two soulmate posts coming ur way soon guys bc that's in high demand it seems so!! also im on my tablet writing all of this and tumblr mobile sucks so if there's any mistakes blame them not me. anyways send requests for things if u want. love u all !

includes: jeff the killer, homicidal liu, eyeless jack, nina the killer, the bloody painter, and ticci toby.

warnings: not proofread and written while i was super tired so, yandere content, mdni, inconsistent length, reader injury in jeff and toby's parts, stalking, mild poly content in liu's part bc he and sully r a package deal here, kidnapping, breaking and entering, murder, this is all actually pretty tame, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, overprotective behavior. i think that's all??

JEFF THE KILLER — didn't have a soulmate. He didn't have any soulmark, there was no name on his wrist or a string around his finger. The universe had destined him to be alone, it seems. When he was younger, this had been crushing. Why did his brother get to have a soulmate but he didn't? What was so different about him that he didn't deserve a destined love?

Though, after he became the man he is today, Jeff found that he didn't care about soulmates. He probably would've killed his soulmate, if he had one. If anything, he found himself developing a burning hatred at the very concept of soulmates.

Everyone had always played it out to be something wonderful, something people were lucky to have. But he's seen otherwise. He's killed soulmates who have turned on each other just to try and save their own life. It's all a bunch of romanticized bullshit.

And he thinks you're a dumbass for believing that your soulmate would be a good person. Jeff doesn't understand why he hasn't killed you yet, you're just some nobody that he for some reason enjoyed the company of. Maybe it's because you never try changing him. Or maybe it's boredom, who knows.

But he hates when you talk about your soulmate that you've yet to meet. You speak as if you're already in love, and it leaves this suffocating feeling in his chest each time. It didn't feel like anger or annoyance, but he was too prideful to label it as jealousy. Why would he be jealous?

Why do you want to meet your soulmate so badly anyway? You have him. He may not be your soulmate, but does it really matter? You better really hope this man never realizes he's in love with you because you're actually fucked if he does, like…

The moment he comes to terms with his feelings for you, you're never meeting your soulmate. He's crossing out their name on your wrist with his knife and replacing it with his own. You wanted to meet your soulmate so badly, so there. Now he's your soulmate. His name is forever carved on your skin, after all.

He may even force you to carve your name into his arm as well to further solidify the whole ‘soulmate’ thing you so desperately craved. You're stuck with him now, like it or not. No amount of screaming and crying will change what's happened.

Jeff doesn't understand why you're so upset. You wanted this. You were practically begging him for it, always telling him your dream life with the one you're destined with. Seriously, you should've expected this from him.

But it's okay, he'll be the soulmate that you've always wanted.

He'll stay by your side. He'll kill anyone who dares to even think about you. You said so yourself, you don't need anyone so long as you have your soulmate.

Really, he's just giving you what you want. Though he won't lie, he can't help but feel a sick and twisted pleasure at having you depend on him. He likes having you around, even if it's with your mouth taped shut to keep you quiet.

Maybe this soulmate thing isn't as bad as he thought it was.

HOMICIDAL LIU — had always dreamed of meeting his soulmate when he was younger. Something about soulmates always fascinated him, and he absolutely loved hearing stories of soulmates meeting and falling in love.

He learned from a pretty young age that whoever his soulmate was, he shared scars with them. This was something he discovered when he felt a stinging sensation on his arm one day and he could see the scar manifest on his skin. He had been so fascinated by it, and even excitedly showed it off to his parents and Jeff as if it were some sort of reward.

Though, after nearly dying at the hand of his little brother, Liu had become… terrified at the thought of meeting his soulmate. He knew that you shared his scars now. You probably got weird looks from people on the street because of them, right?

And it must've been a horrific experience, waking up in the middle of the night to blinding pain all over your face and neck and arms, unable to stop the scars from forming, not knowing what was happening. You probably hated him. He wouldn't blame you if he did.

But when Liu met you, there was no way he'd be able to let you go. At first, he had just seen you in passing, He knew you were his soulmate the moment he laid eyes on you because you weren't even trying to hide the scars you had. You wore them proudly. He had followed you home that night, just to make sure you were safe.

He felt bad about it, but he couldn't help but come back the next day. His mother must be yelling at him from her grave, scolding him for stalking his soulmate instead of just talking to them like a normal person. A simple mistake on his end (aka Sully literally forced the man in front of you) led to the two of you actually meeting.

You had been so concerned, asking him if he were okay. It had been years since he sustained these injuries, but you still asked. You had always wanted to ask, ever since that night. Your pain was dull in comparison to what he must've gone through, and Liu nearly cried experiencing your kindness because he simply did not deserve it.

Liu tries really hard to have a normal relationship with you, he really does, but he's so utterly paranoid about your safety almost constantly when he's away from you. It makes him sick to his stomach imagining the danger you could potentially find yourself in without him around to keep you safe.

It didn't help that Sully only amplified these thoughts and good lord, how would you react to meeting Sully? Liu had always been very careful making sure that he never fronted when you were around, but Sully was starting to become ansty, eager to meet you.

When Liu wasn't hunting Jeff, he was with you. Sometimes you knew, but most of the time, you didn't. Stalking you was second nature at this point, and he doubts it's something he'll ever stop doing. Besides, it's not like he's hurting anyone by stalking the person he loves. Is it completely wrong and a violation of privacy and respect? Yes. Does he feel guilty? Absolutely. Will he stop? No chance. This is for your safety, after all.

Sully thinks he's a fucking fool behaving this way all for one person just because you're his soulmate (which he also thinks is dumb, by the way.) but then he actually meets you for the first time. You had immediately clocked in on the fact that he wasn't Liu, even though Sully prides himself on mimicking the man fairly well. Looks like you have two soulmates now! Yay!

Unfortunately for you, Sully is a lot more direct than Liu. Liu keeps his possessive thoughts to himself whilst Sully makes it very clear that you belonged to them. Liu's affection was hesitant, scared that he may hurt you if he's too eager. Sully's affection was almost suffocating, the way he'd cling to you and refuse to let go.

And if you ever decide that being with them is too much, trust me when I say they will go to great lengths to keep you with them. Liu isn't above locking you away somewhere if it means keeping you safe, and Sully won't hesitate to kill someone just to keep you in check.

Liu just wants to keep you safe. You can't protect yourself, so let him do it for you.

EYELESS JACK — was confused by the blackened, withered string connected to his pinkie. He knew what soulmates were, though he's not sure why the remnant of one was still tied to him. After his… changes… he shouldn't have a soulmate at all, not even the remnants of one.

Even the smallest string around his finger meant the bond was still there. It made no sense, it defied nature itself just by existing. He didn't understand, but he couldn't deny that he was curious. Whoever was on the other side of this string was destined to be with him, how could he not be curious?

It took time, but Jack had plenty to spare. He followed the string as best he could. The poor thing was so fragile, the smallest tug could tear the bond apart. He's not sure what he'll do when he finds the one he has a fragile bond with, to be honest. Soulmates aren't really… useful, to him. His only driving force is survival. Food. Nothing else is important.

Yet this was, oddly enough. There was just something deep inside of him telling him that he needed to find his soulmate.

And when he found the end of his string, it was connected to you. Now, Jack has no memory of who he was before becoming a flesh-eating demon. He was human once, he thinks, so maybe that's why there's something so familiar about you. A long forgotten part of himself was craving you.

And you? You were utterly horrified to find someone that resembles your missing best friend in your home one night. This was Jack, and yet… he wasn't. You didn't know this man. You didn't want to know this man. But he didn't care. Jack was dead set on having you.

He wouldn't leave you alone. He showed up every single night just to watch you. It was unnerving. To you, it felt like he was waiting for the right time to strike. You were waiting for him to kill you, to devour your soul or whatever.

To him, he was protecting you.

You were his mate. That's what he recognized you as. And as your mate, it was his duty to protect you. He didn't see his behavior as odd. To him, he was just providing for you. He saw no harm in breaking into your home every night to make sure you were safe.

Jack may not understand fully why he's attached to you like this, but he can make an educated guess. It's clear that you knew him. Or, you did, at least. You look at him as if you're looking at a ghost. Clearly, you were someone he's always been attached to. Though, it seems his demonic traits have amplified that attachment.

He won't hesitate to hunt you down if you try running away.

There's nowhere you can go where he won't find you. He'll follow you to the ends of the earth, if he must.

Jack doesn't need you to love him back. Hell, he doesn't need you to like him. He just needs you, in any way he can have you. His entire being aches when he's not with you.

So here you are, stuck with the creature. You're haunted by him, really. And, to be honest, you're not sure if you wanted him to leave.

NINA THE KILLER — wrote literal fanfic on how she wanted her first meeting with her soulmate to go. All she ever wanted was for someone to love her, so when she learned that the inner voice that all of her thoughts was in belonged to her soulmate, she was utterly ecstatic!

This was the only thing in life that mattered to her. Nothing else was important. Everyone in her life thought she was strange, how obsessed she was over someone she hasn't even met.

But if they could hear your voice, they'd understand. Whenever she needed comfort, she would just think random thoughts so she could hear your voice.

And when she finally meets you, it's like something out of a fairytale. To her, at least. She had just broken into your home to kill you, but when you begged for your life, it was like everything clicked.

She looked at you as if you were everything she could ever need, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

Nina had no plans of letting you go now that she finally had you. One moment, you're in your home, and then the next, you're waking up in a cabin deep in the forest, decorated to seem like a cozy home.

She acted as if she hadn't kidnapped you. In her mind, you two were pretty much married already. You're her soulmate, after all! That's better than marriage in her eyes. And if you don't play along with her, she won't hesitate to remind you just exactly what she could do to you.

Not that she would ever actually hurt you!

No, Nina could never do that. You're the only thing that has kept her sane all these years. Your voice is the only thing that keeps her going these days.

You just gotta understand that Nina can't live without you. She'd never hurt you, but she's not above scaring you into compliance if it means you'll play along with her fantasies.

But if you ignore the fact that she kidnapped you and is holding you hostage in a cabin so deep in the woods that your chance of escape is slim to none, she's actually probably the best soulmate you could ever ask for. When you actually play along with her, that is.

She doesn't force too much affection on you. If she wants to cuddle you, she will, like it or not. But she never takes it any further than that. She respects your boundaries in her own sick and twisted way.

There's no escaping her love now that she finally has you. She'll drown you in it until it's all you'll want.

THE BLOODY PAINTER — had no real interest in meeting his soulmate, even if it meant his world lacked color. The lack of color in his world didn't deter from his passion for art, and he didn't need to see color to create a masterpiece. If anything, the black and white world he lived in seemed to fit him perfectly.

Sure, he had a few passing thoughts on what his soulmate might be like, but it's nothing he ever really entertained. And if he ever met his soulmate, he sincerely doubts he'd want any real connection with them. Rather, he doubts they'd want anything to with him.

So imagine his surprise when he bumps into you one day and color suddenly bursts into his world. It's dizzying, for the both of you, but all Helen can focus on is the red you were wearing.

Red is a beautiful color on you.

It's an awkward start to your relationship, mostly because it was so sudden. Neither of you really knew what to do, and in the beginning, it honestly seemed as if you two just weren't meant to be. But somehow, it seemed to work out.

Helen really didn't want you finding out about his whole serial killer thing. He wanted a normal relationship with you. Something that would separate him from the whole ‘Bloody Painter’ title the media had given him.

He could spend hours just drawing you. You invade his every thought most days, and he can draw you from memory. He has numerous sketchbooks just filled to the brim with drawings of you. And almost all of them feature the color red in some way.

Art was his main way of expressing his love to you. His expression was always apathetic and his words never felt like enough to him, so what better way to show his love than by painting you masterpieces? Almost every piece of art he made these days were dedicated to you. Even his murders.

It was only a matter of time before you learned about his side hobby, unfortunately. You were smart, something he loved very dearly about you. He's not sure when you started to suspect him of being a killer, but he knew you were starting to become wary of him. Whenever the news talked about a recent murder, he could always feel the way your gaze drifted over to him, even if for a moment.

To be honest, he didn't see any reason to confirm nor deny your suspensions. He was curious to see whether you'd stay with him or if you'd try to leave the longer you suspected him. Not that he'd let you, of course. Helen couldn't lose you, you were his muse. If he lost you, how could he ever create art?

Helen would only do something if you tried telling someone about your suspicions. Maybe your friend or family member was a detective, but whoever you try telling is going to end up a bloodied corpse in front of you, your boyfriend standing over their corpse with a look of mild disgust.

Their blood smearing onto your skin when Helen gently cups your cheeks, telling you how careless you had been, how you left him with no choice but to kill that person. You were freaked out by the entire situation, but Helen wouldn't let you go.

Red truly is a beautiful color on you.

TICCI TOBY — genuinely had no idea he had a soulmate, simply because he couldn't feel pain. Truth be told, he didn't even know what soulmates were until he was already a proxy. Kate had been kind enough to explain it to him, when he questioned the mark on her neck.

It was a concept that he found interesting because the idea of meeting someone who would finally understand him was too good to pass up. At the same time, he couldn't help but think it to be bullshit. Toby had always been disillusioned to love, even if he couldn't quite remember why. It just seemed too good to be true.

He wasn't even sure if he had a soulmate, truth be told. He didn't have any marks on him as far as he could tell, and there were no words or names or anything like that. He just assumed he was one of the rare few that didn't have a soulmate.

But then he met you.

You, the newest proxy. Fresh meat, dazed and confused and in need of training. He was like you once, years ago. He trained himself, too stubborn to listen to anyone else. Because of that, Slender always made him train any new proxy it brought. It annoyed him beyond belief, but he didn't have much of a choice.

There was something strange about you. He's not quite sure what it was, but he found it strangely difficult to look away from you for too long. There was just… something drawing him to you. He only understood why when he cut himself on his hand when he retrieved one of his hatchets he had you throwing.

You had gasped. It was a pained one, so of course he had to check you for injuries. When he found the cut on your hand, you had pointed out the fact that he had a similar one on his own. It was… weird, truthfully. And maybe he was being dumb, or whatever, but Toby couldn't help but wonder if… were you his soulmate?

The very thought was enough to drag his hatchet across his arm, watching as the very same cut he had given himself tore into your skin as well. It had left him speechless, to say the least. He felt conflicted in so many ways, and to be honest, he avoided you in the beginning. He had nobody for the longest time, and now he suddenly has a soulmate? It was just a bit much for him, and he needed the space.

But trust that once he's accepted that he has someone in his life now, you're stuck with him. Toby isn't a physical person, so you don't have to worry about him actually sticking to you, but he always seems to be keeping an eye on you. For Toby, he's always been hyper aware of his surroundings because if he's not, he could get hurt without realizing it and then bleed out and die, so sad. But now he has to make sure you don't get hurt as well, already becoming increasingly protective over you.

Any missions tasked to you, Toby will always join you. Doesn't matter how simple the mission is, or if you or Slender try to argue with him, he's going.

He's so protective over you that it borders on possessive. He hates when you get close to anyone, and the moment you leave his line of sight, he's hunting you down. Friend or foe, Toby doesn't want you near them. You have to understand that everyone has bad intentions. Hell, Toby himself acknowledges his behavior to be bad as well, he's well aware of that fact. But to him, it's for your own good. You can trust him, but you can't trust anyone else.

And there's literally no chance that you'll be able to leave him if you tried. As a proxy of Slenderman, you're stuck with him. Slender doesn't care about your comfort, it only cares about you completing the missions it gives to you. Sure, it finds Toby's behavior strange and mildly annoying, but it's not causing you any physical harm, so it simply doesn't care.

But Toby would never, under any circumstances, hurt you. That's something he will vehemently refuse to do no matter what, so you could use that against him if need be.

Just… just let him have this. Let him have you.

[5eraphim]

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭🧡

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt. 

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team. 

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat. 

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer. 

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down. 

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove. 

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity. 

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

[suiana]

Imagine if Darling was Yan! killer's victim and got away by pulling this off-

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvNzuaBJawx/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

🐄

"stop running away- mfgh?!"

after hastily slamming your lips on the killer who was chasing after you, your adrenaline only seemed to increase as he kissed back. passionate kissing as his knife drops, your initial plan of just simply throwing him off was thrown into the drain.

"hah... how bold...."

he mumbles in between kisses as his now bare hands slide up your shirt, sending tingles up your skin. every touch only adds more fear in you as you try your best to pull away only for the killer to pull you back and grind into you.

"oh no... we can't have you running away now~"

man you should've just gotten murdered. it would've been a far more merciful fate.

[ozzgin]

A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

[Part 2] | [More original works]

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

[cold-kitty]

can I maybe request a willing (and maybe really affectionate) reader with the serial killer yandere? I love your writing!

Of course! Thank you by the way!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contains: Fluff, Stockholm Syndrome

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who expected you to be scared, pissed, just upset in general, so he made sure that he held you close while you were still unconscious so that he could savor what he thought would be the last moments of closeness with you.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who isn't surprised when you're scared, he expected it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who tries to make himself the least threatening as possible, nervously handing you a cute little teddy bear he found with shaking hands. and, to his surprise, you take it.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches as you take hold of it with your own shaking hands, nervous for your reaction.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who watches you accept it, a shaky attempt at a smile twitching on your lips. he's relieved, to say the least.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who keeps getting you small gifts, happy that you're quickly becoming comfortable with him.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who decides to risk it all one night.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who waits until a stormy night, one with lightning and thunder and all that, and he comes into your room. his voice shakes in fear as he asks you the million dollar question. "can I sleep with you tonight? I have a phobia of storms..."

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who almost lunges at you when you say he can, but he forces himself to stay calm and slowly climb into your bed.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who itches to snuggle up to you, fingers twitching with the want- the need -to hold you.

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who jumps out of his skin when you say that he can get as close as he wants, how did you know!?

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who latches onto you like a baby monkey, spooning you as gently as he lets himself.*

Yan!Murderer/Serial Killer who notices how nonchalantly you act around him, and soon you're living with him as if he hadn't kidnapped you.

(BONUS: he doesn't care about spooning positions. you want to be the big spoon? hell yes. you want to be the little spoon? hell yes.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He is such a sweetheart <3 (he has committed ATROCITIES)

[reareaotaku]

Call Me, Baby

Summary: You got a call when being home alone and it turns into something much darker Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Reader Word Count: 1.7k Tw: NSFW, Phone Sex, Non-con, Dry humping

You stretched your hands out before sighing and going into your kitchen to get a snack. The grandfather clock in the hallway clicked as time stretched forward. You yawned, opening the cabinets before hearing a familiar ring. You frowned, looking at the phone for the caller ID. Unknown.

You pick it up, putting it to your ear, "Hello?"

"Hey Y/n~"

You tilted your head, holding the phone, going back to the cabinets, "Who is this?"

"Oh, you know who I am."

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

" "Scary night isn't it? With the murders and all. It's like right out of a horror movie or something."

"Oh yeah. It all starts with a call, before the Ghostface slashes them. Pretty scary. But I'm not scared," You smile.

"Do you like scary movies, Y/n?" The man's voice deepens and you bite a lip.

He sounded kind of like Randy, "You know Randy, that think you're doing with your voice... It's kind of turning me on. Really sexy. Why don't you come over and show me a good time?"

The man on the phone scoffs, ignoring you. You didn't know that the man behind the phone was Billy and the last thing Billy wanted to think about was you fucking Randy.

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

"Oh come on, Randy, you know I don't watch that shit. But, if you come by maybe we can just skip to the triple x scenes and you can show me how realistic you are."

You hear a heavy chuckle, "Oh, Y/n, you know those scenes aren't realistic.... Are you alone?"

You look around the kitchen, "Yeah. I'll be alone for the whole weekend. So, we can go all night long."

"Are you always such a whore."

You frown, your brows and nose scrunching up. "That's not very nice, Randy."

"Maybe that's because I'm not Randy."

"Well, then who are you?"

"The question isn't who am I? The question is where am I?"

"Hopefully in my room."

"You're such a slut, Y/n. How many guys do you fuck?"

"You know, for a guy who knows me so well, how do you not know I'm a virgin?"

"You're a virgin?"

You roll your eyes, groaning, "My father would kill me if I had premarital sex. But he's not here."

The man on the phone hums and you lean on the island.

"So, what do you want, mystery man?"

"To see what your insides look like."

"How about you come," You jump onto the counter, spreading your legs, "and rearrange them instead? That sounds so much more fun. Don't you think?"

"You don't even know what I look like."

You lightly bite your nail, smiling to yourself, "Yeah, but you sound hot. Besides, you can always turn off the lights."

"I want to see your face as I slit your throat."

You hop of the counter, rolling your eyes, before exiting the kitchen and heading towards the living room. "God, way to turn a girl on. You're no fun. Maybe I should hang up-"

"If you hang up, I will fucking gut you like a fish, you bitch." He threatens, causing you to freeze. Billy wasn't going to kill you; He was bluffing, but you didn't know that. In fact, you weren't even his target, your father was. But, you picked up the phone and who was Billy to deny you?

"Well, this isn't fun anymore. So why are you calling me? To torture me?"

"Aww, you don't want to have sex with the deep-voiced man anymore?"

"Not if he's going to gut me like a fish."

"Oh, I would never ruin such a pretty blouse."

You froze, before looking down at the white blouse you were wearing. You turned around, trying to find anyone, but there was no one.

"Oh, Y/n. You really shouldn't leave your back door unlocked."

Suddenly, you hear the click of the slidding door from your back yard. You rush up the stairs, nearly dropping the phone. You look off the edge, before putting the phone back to your ear.

"What do you want from me?"

"Sweet, sweet, Y/n. What happened to all that slutty lust?"

"That was before you threatened to gut me."

You hear a click and the back door open, before quickly shutting again.

"Even if I wanted to, I would never hurt you. Unless you asked me to. You should get your cat, I'd hate for it to get hit by a car."

Your eyes widen, not even thinking as you head down the stairs. You didn't even register that the man on the phone was probably down stairs, you were to worried about your baby. As you reach for the door, you're grabbed from behind. You struggle against his hold, but there was no way of getting out.

The male overpowered you. He put a knife to your throat, causing you to gulp and look at his gloved hand fearfully.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat. Understand?"

You nervously nod your head and Ghostface picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you up the stairs. You struggle in his grasp, until you hit on the side of the head, knocking you out for a short period of time.

Ghostface pushes your door open, before throwing you onto your bed. He tilted his head when seeing you knocked out. He quietly closed the door, before locking it. He pulls your leg forward, giving him access to crawl on top of you. He lightly grabs your face, before shaking you.

You groaned, slowly opening your eyes. They widened when seeing the scream-mask face staring back at you. He covers your mouth, tsking you and shaking the knife.

"Don't even think about it." He lightly grazes your face with the knife and you can feel tears streaming down your face.

"Please..."

"Please what?" He pushed his leg in between your thighs, rubbing against your crotch. "You have to use your words.

"P-P-Please don't kill me..." You speak in between breaths.

He puts the knife away, behind him. He takes off a glove, before caressing your face. "I would never kill you. I love you too much."

"Love me?" You glare at him before slapping him, causing the mask slip.

He wipes the blood from his chin, before looking back at you. You sit up on your elbows, looking at him wide-eyed.

"Billy?"

"Surprise Y/n."

"But why?"

He removes the cloak, while pinning you down with his knee, "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends!"

He pulls some hair out of your face, "I don't want to be friends." He pushes down, before kissing your cheek. You struggled against him, but he had your hands bound with his.

You can feel his cold breath down your neck as he slowly kisses you. He sucks on the side of your neck, before going up your neck to the edge of your ear and softly biting it. You groan, feeling surrounded by the male as his body towers you. You feel the weight of his body shift to his legs as he pins your lower body down.

His hands slowly graze against your bare skin. He grabs the collar of your blouse, before pulling at it, causing it to rip.

"Ops."

You're left with only your bra on your top half. He lightly touches your neck, slowly going down your chest, before reaching your bra.

"Cute bra," He fiddles with lace of your bra.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I plan to," He harshly grabs your boob, squeezing it, before he frowns. "This bra is quite annoying."

"It's my favorite bra, please don't destroy it," You feel the tears swell in your eyes, as they stream down your cheeks.

He hums, playing with the bra, before deciding just this once he was going to listen to you. He picks you up, before unclasping the bottle it from behind. Your head laid on his shoulder and his chest was smooshed against yours. You could feel his heartbeat beating deep; It rang through your ears like the heart in "The Tell-Tale Heart".

It was pounding in your chest, like drums. Thump, thump, thump, thump. It rang in your ears and you couldn't hear him. You could feel his wet tongue dip into your chest and suck on your perked nipples. His breath was frosty against your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your skin.

His hand lightly groped the breast he wasn't sucking on. In any other case, this would have been nice. He was gentle and sweet, so unlike him, but he always knew how to disguise himself as the perfect lover.

He sits up, looking down at you as if he was a god. His eyes were sharp like a cats and he was looking at his prey. Billy messes with his shirt, before pulling it over his head. You hear a buckle and the crinkle of pants. You shake your head, causing Billy to grab your cheeks and coo at you.

"Aww, baby... Shhh... You want this. Remember how slutty you were on the phone?"

You look down to see one of your legs in between his, so you decide to take the opportunity and knee him in the crouch. He yells grabbing his family jewels as you run towards the door, pulling on it, before realizing it was locked.

Billy grabbed you, before shoving you against the door, "You want to play? I love the chase." He thrusts harshly into your back, forcing your face to shove against the door.

The knife has returned, and you can feel the tip just barely into the skin on your neck.

"But I don't want to play this stupid game. I want to play a much more fun game... Oh, you know the one where I rearrange your guts."

You feel his hands pull onto your jeans, unbuttoning them. He leans his chin on your shoulder and you hear him chuckle.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun."

[oct0bra1ns]

Yandere killer offering cannibal y/n his victims?

Delicious Prey

pairing: Yandere serial killer x cannibal reader TW: gore, cannibalism, yanderes, violence against others, against self (from the yandere's side ) notes : My brain is so fried from physics i had to come out for my hiatus to breath, also, can you tell i was kind of inspired by dead plate? LOL Please let me know if you want me to add anymore tw to the tags please.<3

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

♡ Yandere Serial killer who's had his eyes on you for a very long time, who memorised your entire routine, waiting for the chance to strike, only for him to see you drag a body in from the back into the place you work.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who breaks in at night, curious to see what you did with the body, only to find it stuffed inside a freezer. It didn't take a genius to figure out you were making meals of the victims.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who applied to your restaurant, just so he could spend more time with you, he doesn't care what work you assign him, he'll gladly do it as long as he gets to hear your monotone 'Good job' or 'well done'.

♡ Yandere Serial killer plans a way to catch you in the act, to find something to hold over you so you can stay with him.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who's surprised when his plans quickly backfire on him when you pull out evidence of his crimes, threatening to leak it if he doesn't shut up and go back to work.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who makes a deal with you. He'll do all the dirty work and you can enjoy your passion of cooking. He'll bring you anyone however and whenever you like.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who presents everyone to criticises your dishes or restaurant as ingredients to use in your next dish.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who gets jealous when you eat someone in front of his. It's agitating to hear how well they cooked or how it's nice to chew on.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who presents a part of him as a meal during your anniversary, I mean, since he's become a part of you, the two of you are bound for life.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who flushes when he comes home covered in blood and you kiss the blood of, making a comment on how it tastes before tending to him.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who although is used to seeing you eat people, it not used to it himself, so when you first offer him a part of yourself, he's beyond honoured but at the same time, almost emptied his stomach the first time.

♡ Yandere Serial killer who learn your favourite dish and makes it for you on the daily, even if it meals he has to start getting risky with his victims. An offhand comment of imaginings how someone will taste end up with him bring them to you.