#yandere annie

[animeyanderelover]

Could you write another lover massaging the yanderes but with Levi Ackerman, Annie, Ash, Sebastian, Yui and Angel Devil(with some sort of clothing covering him probably or another solution you can think of) ?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, mentions of self-harm in Ash's part, mentions of sexual assault and scars in Yui's part

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @shumidehiro @cachamata

Receiving a massage from their s/o

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛​Oh~? What do we have here? The level of smugness emitting from this man as soon as you offer to massage him after a particularly stressful day in the Phantomhive manor is unmatched, red eyes regarding you with a mixture of arrogance yet also fondness. This man teases you so much about your offer, especially if you didn't have the fondest opinion of him at the beginning. Still, he would never deny any physical contact with his mate, especially if his darling is the one initiating it. Still, as long fingers slowly remove every piece of clothing from his torso you can't ignore the suggestive gleam in his eyes. Quite honestly, the way he undresses in itself is almost inappropriate for some reason and the more you can't help but stare the more suggestive it seems to get. You're certainly nowhere as good as he is and for the first few moments his perfectionistic nature gets the better of him as he corrects you teasingly where to touch him to make him feel good. After a while he falls silent though and just enjoys the touch of his mate, the occasional growl of enjoyment escaping his chest which catches you off-guard the first few times.

Ash Landers

▫️​The thought of that much skinship almost has the angel feeling dizzy as soon as you offer him to massage him. You do not owe him anything at all, he doesn't mind the stress and frustration he feels with such a rotten world as he does it all for you. You actually need a good few minutes before he caves in, your impending disappointment and sadness much more painful for him than his principles. He gets quite flustered as he removes his clothes though, soon followed by a wave of shame as soon as he reveals some of the wounds he has inflicted himself when not feeling good enough for you which haven't faded away despite him healing faster than humans. Honestly, he's terrified. His heart is pounding against his chest, constantly worried that you will criticise him somehow which makes him exceptionally stiff as soon as you start. That tension remains for quite a while though soon you also notice that he's trying to stiffle groans or any other sinful sounds whenever you find a good spot. His pale cheeks quickly take on a pink hue, one he doesn't want you to see as he tries to hide his face. The moment he finally does relax he finds himself tearing up, touched by your kindness.

Annie Leonhardt

���​There has to be an already established trust between her and you or otherwise Annie won't feel comfortable enough with your suggestion. She is in need of some relaxation though considering that she is constantly brooding over everything that has happened. Initially she denies you though after some awkward seconds of thick silence have passed by between her and you. Do not pester her too much or else she will get irritated and rude, do it the right way so that she doesn't feel annoyed. Once you have managed to convince her that she should try to relax for once and that you just want to treat her well Annie is doing her best to hide how flustered she actually is deep down behind her cold facade. Her control flips away though the more layers of clothes she removes until there is a dust of pink on her cheeks. Still, she is very tense and constantly steals glances at you once you start touching her as she isn't quite used to being so vulnerable with someone. Convincing her to relax and loosen up takes a while, all her muscles stiff as if she feels the need to be on alert. Once she slowly learns how to unravel a bit she stops her cautious glances and just silently enjoys the experience.

Levi Ackerman

⚔️​Levi struggles to be openly vulnerable after all the tragedies he had to experience throughout his life and you could almost say that it low-key scares him to reveal that much of his heart and thoughts to his darling. Whilst he doesn't outright denies you when you offer him a massage there is still a long pause as you can see the hesitation and conflict deep within his eyes. He struggles with the idea of being so defenseless, of having that amount of physical contact he probably hasn't experienced since he was a baby and held in the arms of his mother. Needless to say, he's awkward and conflicted even once he complies. There is that fleeting look he gives you once he unbuttons his shirt and reveals his battle-damaged torso to you as if he wants to gauge if there is any hint of shock or unease on your face in which case he would instantly stop this idea. He flinches the first few times you touch his body before he forces himself to stay still yet it still takes him quite a while before he slowly allows himself to relax a tad bit more and to loosen up his tense muscles. It's a strange sensation though, a level of comfort he isn't quite used to as he just bathes in the soothing silence between the two of you.

Komori Yui

💎​Normally Yui latches on to every bit of affection her darling gives her, especially after everything she went through. However, she is quite hesitant when you ask her if you could give her a massage. There a bite marks all over her body from whenever someone from the Sakamaki or Mukami brothers sucked her blood against her will and it elicits feelings of shame and insecurity awake within her. She's worried that you may find those scars ugly which is why she finds herself having a hard time agreeing to it. It needs reassurance from your side until she agrees. There are still doubts within her mind and even though you assure her that she doesn't need to feel pressured Yui does as you tell her simply because she is deep down scared that she'll lose you otherwise. Trembling fingers still give away how much she is still in distress as she undresses even if she does her best to act like she is fine with it. None of that fear is directed against you though which is why she is begging you to continue whenever you ask her if it's really alright for her. She feels bad for the way her muscles tense and tremble even after she finally relaxes, her body finally recognising you as her safe haven.

Angel Devil

👼​Angel Devil finds himself tilting his head, expressing some concerns regarding his abilities to steal the lifespan of those who touch him. Some part of him is still mildly interested to know what massage feels like as he has heard occasionally about all the therapies and the advantages of it. Now, ususally he isn't a fan of being ordered around too much due to his lazy nature but he makes exceptions for his darling. The only thing he insists on is that you cover your own hands as well as his back to avoid any skin contact. Honestly, he has zero ideas of what to expect despite what he has heard in the past as he just lays down, putting an amount of trust in you he very rarely grants other people. The sensation of being touched, even if only through layers of clothing, in such unfamiliar and intense ways catches even him by surprise though for the first few moments. As soon as he has categorised the sensation as pleasant though he lets you carry on whilst he just enjoys the fact that he has to do nothing at all and can just enjoy this massage. Angel Devil finds himself more than once dozing off between sessions, lazy eyes opening before closing once more.

[eternallyordinary]

"He Belongs to You" - Part 2

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series masterlist <3

Summary: A high-profile photoshoot should be simple, but with Homelander by your side, how can it be? Tension rises, boundaries blur, and you're left questioning whether his protectiveness is too much—or exactly what you want.

Warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, power imbalance, mild violence, harassment, implied dark themes, mild smut

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The break room hums with quiet conversation as you take another sip of coffee, the warmth soothing against your palms. Homelander is still beside you, watching—always watching. His stare lingers, just as heavy as the unspoken thoughts behind it.

You giggle softly, the sound breaking through the charged air between you.

But before he can respond, the door bursts open.

“Hey, hey, new superstar!” Ashley.

She strides in, clipboard in hand, her usual manic energy filling the room. She barely glances at Homelander, doing a double take when she notices how relaxed he looks. What’s the catch?

“And… hey, Homelander…” she adds, clearly confused.

Her gaze darts between the two of you before snapping back to you with a forced grin. “Honey, my newest prodigy, you’ve got a photoshoot in thirty. Remember? Lucky for you, hair and makeup are done. But we need to get you changed—got a whole rack of outfits for you.”

She pauses, grimacing. “Or… lack thereof. Not a lot of fabric. More like… nipple covers.” She shrugs. “This is for Sports Illustrated. They’re really expecting you to skyrocket their sales. No one your age buys magazines anymore, ya know? You’re doing them a huge favor!”

Homelander raises a brow at her words, his gaze flicking to you.

“Sports Illustrated, huh?” His tone is unreadable, but there’s an edge lurking beneath the surface. His eyes trail over your form, his mind already working overtime. He imagines it—you in a skimpy, barely-there swimsuit, all curves and smooth skin, posing for the cameras while the world drinks you in.

His jaw tightens.

You don’t belong to the world. You belong to him.

“Oh, sorry, Ashley. I’ll be right there,” you say, standing up. Then, without thinking, you turn to Homelander. “Can he come?”

Homelander blinks.

You asked if he could come. You wanted him there.

A surge of satisfaction rises in his chest, his ego swelling. He owns this place, yet you still asked—like it was a privilege for him to be included.

But another thought creeps in—can he even control himself watching you parade around in almost nothing? Would he even want to?

He chuckles, amused by your innocence. ��Sure, darling,” he says, voice smooth but laced with something darker. “I’d love to.”

Ashley hesitates. “Uh. Yeah. Great. Homelander can come. Let’s go.”

Homelander follows close behind as you’re led toward the photoshoot area, his presence a constant shadow.

—

Your dressing room is compact yet undeniably lavish—soft lighting, a sleek couch, and a privacy screen that serves no real purpose against his vision. Homelander steps inside, fully expecting you to ask him to leave. Maybe even insist on some privacy.

A part of him almost wants you to. Because if you don’t? He’s not sure he trusts himself.

Instead, you hold up two different bikinis, both tiny. Too tiny.

"Which one do you think?"

He almost laughs. How are you so unaware of what you’re doing to him?

His gaze sweeps over the barely-there swimsuits, then over you.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, stepping closer. "Look who's getting all fancy."

His fingers brush over the lace of one, his touch slow, deliberate. He should leave. He knows that. But the thought of stepping away, of not seeing you in this—impossible.

His smirk deepens. "Why don’t you try this one on first, darling? Even though we both know you look good in anything."

You nod, and you can't help but blush. "Okay."

You step behind the privacy screen, then suddenly peek your head out.

"I know you can, like, see through walls and stuff. So close your eyes. Promise?"

Homelander chuckles, thoroughly entertained. You’re adorable. Like a lamb asking the wolf not to look.

"I promise," he hums, closing his eyes.

It’s hell.

He can hear everything. The rustle of fabric as you slide out of your clothes. The soft hitch of your breath. The shift of your body as you adjust the straps, bare skin brushing against fabric that leaves nothing to the imagination.

His hands flex at his sides, his mind racing.

Then you speak. “Actually… I can’t tie the top. Can you help me?”

Homelander’s eyes snap open.

And there you are—standing before him, barely covered, utterly breathtaking.

His jaw clenches, tension coiling deep in his chest.

It takes every ounce of restraint not to remind you what happens when you tease a man like him.

You turn, holding your hair up, waiting for him to tie the strings.

And it’s over. He's done for.

The bikini is practically a thong. Is this what you’re going to wear in front of the world? He wants to scream.

He exhales slowly, trying to maintain control. His hands tremble slightly as he grabs the strings, knuckles grazing the soft, warm skin of your back.

This isn’t just lust.

It’s something worse.

It’s need.

Ashley’s voice snaps him out of it.

“You ready or what?!”

Then he hears it—Ashley whispering outside the door.

"Why the fuck is he in there with her? Are they fucking already? Get crisis management on this. We need to cover our bases in case this goes public. I mean, I guess they’d be a good PR couple? I don’t fucking know. He's 20 years older than her for fuck sake. Our goal was to make him a father figure to her. Not a fucking DADDY."

PR couple?

No.

You’re not a fucking publicity stunt.

You’re his.

He yanks the strings tighter than necessary, finishing the knot. He can't risk your perfect breasts spilling out of your top.

“All done,” he mutters darkly.

You beam at him, oblivious to the storm inside his head.

“How do I look?”

Homelander exhales sharply.

“You look…” He stops himself. Careful. “Amazing.”

You throw on a cardigan, slipping into your Uggs. Before leaving, you pause in the doorway.

"Are you coming? If you can’t, it’s okay. I just feel… awkward."

Homelander doesn’t hesitate.

"I’m coming."

Of course he is.

Because there’s no fucking way he’s letting you out of his sight now.

—

The moment you step onto set, a voice cuts through the room.

“Alright, everyone, make way for—” The photographer stops mid-sentence. His eyes widen. His gaze devours you.

"Holy fuck. You are so fucking hot. This is perfect."

Homelander’s stomach turns.

“I want these pics to be fire,” the director continues. “I want us to smell the cum of middle-aged men dribbling off the pages.”

The room goes silent.

Homelander’s hands curl into fists.

You gently tug his arm before he can rip the director’s spine out. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

Then, the music starts—Pornstar by Nessa Barrett.

Fucking perfect.

This isn’t just a nightmare. It’s torture.

The song, the poses, the way you move—it all belongs in his bed, under him, for him.

Maybe he’ll make you pay for this later. Or maybe…

Maybe he’ll just kill the photographer, Ashley, and every other idiot who thought they had the right to put you on display like this.

You move effortlessly, posing with confidence.

He then realizes - you aren’t doing this for them. Not for the cameras. Not even for him.

And that drives him insane. It makes his cock even harder.

As the shoot wraps, Homelander’s sharp ears catch the photographer’s vile murmur—low, smug, and utterly disgusting.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy. Might have to keep a few of these for myself… if you know what I mean.”

The moment the words leave the photographer’s mouth, the air in the room shifts.

Homelander’s smile vanishes.

In an instant, he’s right there, towering over the man, his presence suffocating. The photographer barely has time to react before Homelander tilts his head, a slow, unsettling grin creeping across his face—one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What was that?” His voice is calm. Too calm.

The photographer swallows hard, his smirk faltering. “Uh—I just meant—”

“You just meant,” Homelander cuts him off, his tone deceptively light, “that you thought you could talk about her like a piece of meat?”

Your stomach twists.

You weren’t used to this—this possessive, overbearing protectiveness. It’s almost too much. Embarrassment creeps up your neck as the entire room silently watches, waiting to see what he’ll do.

But… you don’t hate it.

Not completely.

The way he steps between you and the photographer, the way his presence alone makes the man’s face drain of color—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Homelander leans in, voice dropping to something just above a whisper—low, venomous, and dangerously amused.

“See… I don’t like the way you’re looking at her. I don’t like the way you’re talking about her.” His eyes darken, a sickening smile stretching across his lips. “And I sure as fuck don’t like imagining what’s going on in that pathetic little brain of yours.”

The photographer’s breath quickens. “I-I didn’t mean any disrespect—”

Homelander claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, his grip bruising. “Didn’t you?” His voice is mocking, his fingers tightening just enough to make the man wince. “Because to me? It sounded like you wanted to be funny.”

A beat of silence. The tension is unbearable.

You shift awkwardly.

You should stop this. Tell Homelander it’s fine, that you can handle yourself.

But… you don’t.

Because deep down, in a place you don’t want to examine too closely—having him react like this for you? Having him ready to kill for you?

It makes your pulse race in a way it shouldn’t. It makes your center throb.

“Do you think you’re funny?” Homelander whispers, voice dripping with something feral.

The photographer frantically shakes his head. “N-no, sir—”

“Good,” Homelander purrs, his grip lingering for just a moment longer before shoving him back a step.

He straightens, smoothing out his cape, and flashes a charming, empty smile. “Because next time? I won’t be so nice.”

The photographer nods rapidly, sweat beading at his temple.

Homelander barely gives him another glance before turning back to you, his expression softening instantly.

Your body flushes at the shift in his demeanor—like he wasn’t just threatening to end a man.

“C’mon, darling,” he murmurs, placing your cardigan over your shoulders with a gentleness that doesn’t make sense. “Let’s get out of here.”

You should say something.

You should call him out for overreacting, for making you feel like a damsel in distress.

Instead, you swallow hard and nod, letting him guide you toward the exit.

Because even if it embarrasses you, even if it confuses you—

You like it.

And that’s the most dangerous part of all.

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[jweekgoji]

mhhhm but yandere starlight & yandere hughie having a massive crush on the same darling who's a supe.....and imagine if they're a part of The Seven too. I don't see them fighting against each other but working together instead because come on, they're the cutest heterosexual couple in the show THEY'RE IN LOVE

but they would be really funny as a yandere romantic duo. Annie's charm? she's basically so easy to talk to even if you're a massive introvert I imagine her being so patient and nice. Hughie on the other hand is quite shy too but he is a sweetheart. if Annie can charm you with her powers and her friendliness, Hughie would charm you with how hard he tries to make you like him. Need something? He will buy it. Feel cold? He can give you his jacket. Need a shoulder to lean on? He will VOLUNTEER for it. He would sweat so much but he would die as a happy man if he gets such an opportunity.

Even though Hughie can't be around you 24/7 like Starlight since you're a supe and part of The Seven, he would absolutely freak out every time he sees the picture of you next to Homelander on the news. I think Annie would be less worried about it but not because she doesn't care as much; she just has an opportunity to be around and therefore to look after you. She would pay EXTRA attention and will try any excuse to be practically next to your side if she spots The Deep even looking in your way. Starlight is not a violent person but if anyone tries to make a wrong move on you, you can definitely see her eyes shining as a silent warning.

I see Starlight as less paranoid but protective yandere. She believes you, so there would be no hypothetical jealous situations with her against you. She might be a little more protective if you're pushing yourself a little too hard to try and reach your goals. I mean, she is supportive but she grew up with her mother forcing her to sacrifice everything just to reach it. She doesn't want the same for you, so she will try to remind you to take breaks and be less tense.

Hughie in my opinion is paranoid. He is afraid you might leave one day and something could happen to you because he is not there. He's not a supe, he is not nearly as strong as you but he desperately tries to be. He would take more Temp V if it means he can protect you more effectively, but Starlight would have to remind him constantly that he doesn't need to. Would it help? A little, but it's not because he doesn't think you or Starlight can't do anything on your own, he just dislikes being the one who needs to be saved constantly. If you pretend to be 'weak' and ask him to help you open a jar with pickles, even that little situation helps him not to feel less of himself :3

[acosmicbee]

Why does Streamer Milf love Darling?

Also, what does she want to do to bond with Darling?

Firstly, Streamer Milf worked in retail for a long time before she became a streamer. She was in her late 20s when she found out she'd never be able to have kids biologically, which was really upsetting to her. She started streaming to distract herself from the pain of it all.

It was pure coincidence that she stumbled across the second site where she does her night streams. When she discovered the community supporting 'forced adoptions' she realized there may still be a chance for her.

She attaches to reader because she was in a similar situation once. She knows how much working retail and being yelled at by customers sucks. It's only fully solidified in her mind that reader is the one for her when she hears about the fact that you broke your arm because your mother is too busy to drive you to and from work.

She loves your kindness and empathy, how you didn't let your situation with your mother or your horrible manager get you down. She also thought you were a cute kid.

As for bonding, she'd love to play games with reader! Board games or video games. She'd also love cuddling together while watching TV or having you help her cook (you watch and she does everything).

Also, Streamer Milf's official name is Annie, but I find the nickname hilarious!

[bella-goths-wife]

Post sex conversation and assassinations on the side

Content: this is kind of just an introduction to the new au im creating basically

Warnings: mentions of sex, cigarettes, murder, drug overdose, terrible plot building, murder in exchange for money, drug use, alcohol use, gore

^first time making one of these so tell me if it’s trash

Butcher and Becca both let out a long sigh of relief as they enter an embrace and enjoy their post sex glow, laying together in the back of the truck that butcher had used to sneak out and meet her in.

He holds her lovingly as he gazed down at the woman he had thought to dead for so long, memorising the details of her face that had previously become blurry in his mind during her absence. Though, this lovers bliss he was temporarily experiencing was forever dulled by the knowledge that she’d have to return to her glorified cage and he would have to return to his hideout to avoid having her killed by homelander and his happy families delusions.

Butcher goes into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes before lighting one and taking a drag, becca looks at him with a disapproving gaze before taking it from his hand and puffing out the smoke in his face in an almost playful gesture. Butcher only smiles, falling into their old post sex routines already.

“I still can’t believe that you were here all this time” butcher says in a low, almost regretful tone “all by yourself”

“I wasn’t all alone” becca comments with an absent mind as she enjoys the heat of laying with her lover.

“Well yeah, you had the kid an’ all” butcher says with a slight scoff at the mention of homelanders spawn “but you can’t have much conversation with a bawling baby”

“No, there were more people than just Ryan and I” Becca explains calmly as she looks up at her lover

“There were?” Butcher says with a confused look “who?”

“Homelander has more than just Ryan” Becca explains “he had another kid”

“There’s more in there?” Butcher asks with a scoff as his head motions to the secluded neighbourhood that becca was being kept in

“Not anymore” Becca says with a shake of her head

“What happened?” Butcher asks with a slight bit of morbid curiosity

“I don’t know” Becca admits with a sigh “one day they were here, the next they’d gone and vought refused to explain”

“Who’s they?” Butcher asks curiously

“Never met the mom, she mostly stayed inside so I only saw her from her windows” Becca explains “but I met her kid, a sweet little girl who’d visit me most days”

“Homelanders kid being sweet?” Butcher asks with a scoff of disbelief

Becca elbows him in the side at the indirect insult to Ryan, butcher lets out a groan and shields himself from any future blows.

“Yes, she wasn’t like her dad, she didn’t even know who he was” becca says with a scoff “she was just a hyper little girl who wanted company, she was the only one I really talked too since Ryan was only a baby and her mother never left the house”

“How old was she?” Butcher asks curiously as he takes a drag from his cigarette

“She was eight when Ryan was born, she would have been around nineteen by now” Becca says as she does the math in her head

“Would’ve been?” Butcher picks up on the undertone of her words

“Last time I saw her she was thirteen, her and her mother just disappeared into thin air” becca says with a sigh “all their stuff gone and no trace of them ever existing”

“So you think vought killed them?” Butcher assumes with a scoff

“I don’t know, maybe?” Becca says with an unsure tone “I hope not”

“Why, she’s not your kid?” Butcher says with a confused expression “and she’s homelanders daughter”

“That doesn’t matter, she was just a kid” Becca states defensively before sighing “sometimes I just sit and wonder where she could be, if she’s safe and happy or if she’s buried somewhere here”

“Vought probably killed her” butcher states bluntly “that or they are milking her for whatever she had in a lab somewhere”

“Maybe” becca says with an unsure look “I just wonder where she is now”

———————————————————————-

“Your whiskey, sir” you offer the man with a smile as you place his drink on the coaster next to him

“Yeah, yeah” the man waves you off and takes a sip of his drink before turning back to his associates “Mike, you have to think about this, this is a big deal”

You keep your forced smile on as you return to your position next to the miniature bar set up in the hotels meeting room, holding your tongue and all the things you wanted to scream at this up his own ass executive.

“I’m hearing you joe, but it’s too much of a risk” the other executive states with a scoff

“But think of the money, we could profit if we just let homelander run off the script a bit” the man tries to reason

“And have him spout off a racist comment within the first five seconds of being on live TV? Yeah no thanks” the other executive shuts down the idea.

Their tedious conversation is interrupted suddenly by the loud blaring of the hotels fire alarm. They look at each other in shock briefly before spouting off complaints on the lack of professionalism.

The other executive tries to get up and unlock the door before quickly realising it’s locked from the inside.

“Give us your damn key” he demands with a scoff and an open palm, his irritation only growing as the hotels sprinkler system activates because of the fire alarm.

You simply shake your head and remain still as a statue next to the miniature bar. The executive practically growls as he begins charging towards you with an infuriated expression.

“Listen here, you little bitch” the executive yells out as he storms towards you “give me the fucking key, now-“

He’s interrupted by his own gurgling as his head slowly slips off of his shoulders and on to the floor and his body collapses. Your custom made metal bartending tray with razor sharp edges has embedded itself in the wall in the other side of the room on its journey through the executives throat.

The man lets out a scream as he looks at his friends now headless body before scrambling for the door and trying his hardest to yank it open.

“God, you people don’t know how to ask nicely for anything huh?” You say with a chuckle as you undo the bow tie and rolling up the sleeves of your bartending uniform, you scoff when you notice the man’s attempts to open the door “no point in doing that, even if you somehow managed to open it, you’d face two of my men who have been standing guard since we got in here”

The man stares at the door as he contemplates his options before he backs away from the door and arms himself with a cheese knife from the cheese board and stares at you. You almost chuckle at his sad attempts at self defence.

The man looks at you before arming himself with the knife and charging at you with the intent to kill you to escape.

You smirk as you make eye contact with the man while he’s charging at you, your pupils expanding to almost fill the entire eye.

The man stops suddenly and stands there in silence for a few tense seconds before dropping the knife and gripping his throat desperately, clawing at it like a feral cat.

Sweat accumulates on the man’s body as he feels it harder to breath and his body begins to fill with pains extending from his chest.

“They always go for the attack approach” you comment to yourself with a laugh as you go to the door to unlock it and let the other men enter

They give you a nod as they go to take the headless man’s body away, the man crawling desperately to them in a silent cry for help.

“They aren’t on your side, stupid” you say with a laugh as you crouch in front of him “they get the same payout as me, it’s unlikely they’ll give that up to help a fat slob like you”

The man claws at his chest before looking at the drink you handed him earlier. He then tries jamming his fat fingers down his throat

“What are you doing?” You ask confused before following his line of site and laughing “you think i poisoned you? Please, I’m not that sloppy”

You let out a laugh as you sit cross legged in front of the desperately dying man who looks at you with a mix of fear and confusion.

“Your overdosing” you say calmly as you grab his hair and lift up his head and look into his wild eyes “slowly and painfully”

The man lets out gurgled sounds of pain and confusion as he claws at your legs as if asking for mercy.

“Now we both know a good Christian man like yourself doesn’t do drugs, that’s the message you spread to the press anyway” you say with a smirk “so let me explain, I’m currently giving you the effects of cocaine which would usually be a pleasant experience but I’m making sure you get the effects of too much cocaine”

The men who had removed the body come back in and began to set the scene in the hotel meeting room, trashing things and laying out lines of coke on the table and around the room.

“I could have chosen a more pleasant drug to do this with, a less painful one” you explain with a chuckle “but you pissed off the wrong people and our client has asked that we do this as painfully and humiliating as possible”

You get up and you get a small bit of coke on your fingertips. You grip the man’s jaw until his mouth opens and you let out a huff of disgust as you put your fingers in his mouth and you spread the cocaine on his gums to leave physical residue for the post mortuary exam to uncover and the press to exploit and use.

“This isn’t gonna look good for you, a good Christian man found overdosed on coke” you say with a grin “what will the wife think?”

The man’s eyes well up with tears as he sobs out in pain. You laugh with a grin as you get up and use your heel to tip him on his back.

“Sugar” one of your friends call as he finishes dressing the room for the press pictures “we only have five minutes to leave before the supes get here, hurry up and finish it”

You sigh before giving a thumbs up to your two friends who were becoming increasingly more anxious as the time goes on, you think about making them experience the effects of a Xanax to get them to chill out but you decide against it with a shake of your head.

“Well then, guess our time has ended here” you say with a grin as you look down at the dying man “Edgar sends his regards, don’t piss off people with connections like he has if you want to stay alive next time”

You increase the dosage mentally as your eyes connect which pushes him over the edge and the life slowly drains from his eyes.

“Sugar” your friend yells again as you go over to where your tray had embedded itself in the wall “two minutes, hurry the fuck up”

“One sec” you say with a huff as you grab the tray and pull it free from the wall.

You pull the tray free with a groan before cleaning the blood from it. It shines as you hold it up to your face and you stare into your own eyes while you recite the chemical makeup for the cocaine and the dosage in your head, you watch as your pupils dilate to the large size again before feeling the familiar sensation of energisation fill your body pleasantly.

“Okay, ready” you say with a excited grin as you grab your friends hands and begin to run out the room “let’s get out of here”

You and your friends leave quickly and run free, leaving behind the slumped over dead body of the executive who had been making challenging decisions within vought.

You hoped Mr Edgar would be happy enough with your job to leave a hefty tip.

This is probably super stupid but I’ve had the idea for this kinda of power for ages and I just needed to write it down.

Let me know what you think :)

[bpdbeehive]

Characters that possibly have all 9 of the symptoms of the BPD criteria

Must have 5 or more symptoms:

1. Chronic feelings of emptiness

2. Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

3. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

4. Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

5. Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

6. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

7. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting")

8. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, threats, or self-harming behavior

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Ame-chan/kawaiiangel- Needy Streamer Overload

Annie Wilkes- Misery

Ayano- Yandere simulator

Bojack Horseman- Bojack Horseman

Catra- She-ra and the Princesses of Power

Cersei Lannister- Game of Thrones

Dandy Mott- American Horror Story

Dennis Reynolds- It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Harley Quinn- DC

Homura Akemi- Madoka Magica

Jason Dean- Heathers

Jinx- Arcane

John Doe- Telltale Batman

Kanato Sakamaki- Diabolik Lovers

Marla Singer- Fight Club

Misa Amane- Death Note

Mizore Shirayuki- Rosario Vampire

Nagito Komaeda- Danganronpa

Pearl- Pearl

River Song- Doctor Who

Sarah Lynn- Bojack Horseman

Spinel- Steven Universe

The Joker- DC

The Master- Doctor Who

Yuno Gasai- Future Diary

[embrifyr]

there's something about the godly devotion that tim has that only bernard gets, the type that no one could truly get behind. imagine the love he has for him, the kind that no one could replicate. the love bernard gives him, he wants to give ten fold, but no one can top bernard's love unless it's his boyfriend's adoring one and his almost worship-like loyalty that leaves him exasperated yet so much more in love with him.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I ask for a general romantic concept of Annie Leonhart from AOT?

Sure! Here you go :) This is a general view of her character, but mostly takes place during Season 1 as she had a much bigger role there.

Yandere! Annie Leonhart Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Violence, Blood, Disturbing descriptions, Murder, Kidnapping, Forced relationship.

Annie is a very... reserved character.

Due to her mission, she doesn't want to get too attached to people.

She is shown to care at times, but she tends to focus on her goals.

Even towards her obsession she doesn't talk or emote too much.

Occasionally you two may share conversation, but it's more like her listening while you chat.

She'd find that annoying with anyone else but you....

Annie tends to be quiet, apathetic, and focused on the task at hand.

She's realistic and often struggles with friendships.

She may not want to harm her obsession, but she knows she's a monster.

You may not know it, but she's the Female Titan, nothing's changing that.

She's actually nervous to be attached to her fellow cadets.

She knows their fate.

Unfortunately, oblivious to her concerns, you keep coming up to her to be friends.

Bonds are difficult for her...

Although, she finds herself understanding you better during training.

You see her as strong and want her to help you train.

These sessions are what begins to bring you closer.

Annie respects those with determination, people willing to do anything to achieve their goals.

Seeing you turn to her for strength training... wanting to rely on her... she both feels good and horrible.

Annie doesn't feel she deserves you.

She's trained to be a Warrior, one meant to destroy people like you.

Yet here she is, hiding smiles as she's around you.

Annie feels happy with you.

She feels so guilty about it, though.

She knows she shouldn't get attached, that once you see what she is you'll hate her...

But even Annie knows she's a selfish person.

Annie usually tries to stay distant from everyone but Bertolt and Reiner.

Unless it's you... In that case, she trains you and speaks with you.

Your conversations are often brief... as Annie isn't much of a talker.

She mostly likes to stay in your presence silently.

In fact, Annie's obsession is silent and rather out of the way.

She often busies herself with her goals, yet keeps an eye on you.

Annie tends to follow you from a distance, often telling herself she's just... worried.

She wants to keep you out of harm... out of her plans... away from maybe even the other cadets....

While she may not want to acknowledge it... This is a sign of obsession.

She's watching you when you're unaware, often glaring when other people speak to you or rough you up...

She hates to admit it, probably won't for a long time...

But she's in love with you.

Love... She hasn't experienced such a thing often.

In fact, just thinking about it makes her think of her father...

Her yearning for a normal life....

Annie wants a normal life with you....

Yet she quickly stops herself from thinking that.

Annie is a good fighter, which makes most people stay out of her way.

Annie just being close to her obsession may drive people off.

I also imagine her fighting skills would make threatening and removing rivals easy.

Before her Female Titan reveal I doubt she's killing anyone... alone.

Marco was a different story she'd rather not think about.

Her jealousy is often vented during training, or maybe she'll take it out on someone in private if they pushed her far enough.

Annie is used to fighting.

Blood on her hands is something she expects... In all ways.

Annie's obsession with you would be quiet and observing until she goes into the Military Police.

After that, her obsession has time to grow due to the distance...

You don't "see" her again until the Female Titan attacks when you join the Scouts.

I like the idea of Annie interacting with her obsession as the Female Titan.

During the first few attacks, her goal is Eren, but she's also cautious of where you are.

She often ignores you during her mission, reluctant to accidentally squish you.

She loves you more than anyone here, after all...

She's missed you, too....

During one of the Female Titan attacks I can see Annie trying to abduct you with Eren.

You, other than her father, are what makes her happy.

She feels you're her key to a normal life....

You make her atrocities seem much more bearable.

Which would make her try to kidnap you as a titan.

Moving away from the plot to focus on general ideas (I have that exact plot planned for a fic)...

Annie struggles on how to deal with her feelings towards you.

She's often dismissive or unsure how to give affection.

Even more so after she's kidnapped you and you keep calling her a monster...

Not like she doesn't know that.

I feel she wouldn't try to kidnap you as a human, it would definitely be as a titan.

She'd either tuck away her obsession in her hardened hands, or even her mouth.

Her mouth is more secure and allows her to use her hands but you're definitely covered in saliva afterwards....

When she has you, she finds somewhere to isolate you.

I'm thinking of an abandoned cabin or something similar.

There's plenty of those due to the titans.

Regardless if she successfully retrieved Eren or not... she feels happy to have you.

Annie sometimes smiles around you and may try to give you affection like hugs.

But hugs, let alone kisses, are difficult for her.

Annie would be cold towards you, especially if you lashed out.

Annie doesn't blame you for hating her.

In fact, she expects it.

She's realistic and lucid enough to know you aren't willingly going to throw yourself into her arms.

You see her as a monster, she views herself the same.

After all, by the time she captures you, she's killed.

She decimated many Scouts as her titan... just to get Eren... just to get you.

She knows you hate her.

She knows you don't deserve each other.

Yet she loves you all the same.

Calling her a monster won't change anything.

It stings when you try to fight her, but you won't last without her.

You need her and her titan to live in isolation without dying.

Call her names, say you hate her...

It doesn't stop her from holding you close.

Imagine if she tries to be affectionate in titan form?

Compared to other titans... like Eren as an example, she probably isn't too affectionate like her human self.

Yet Annie enjoys holding you in her hands, using a thumb to lightly touch you.

Another reason she'd use her titan form is if you try to escape.

You won't get far with broken or missing gear.

Allowing Annie to pick you up, pop you in her mouth, and keep you there as she walks you back to that damn hideout.

Annie wants her obsession to love her. She really does.

But Annie won't delude herself, either.

She's a monster... you can't love a monster...

She loves you way too much to let you go, not when she finally can taste the happiness she craves.

[nyny-berry71]

You plus me is not equal us:

Yan/Zeke Jeager x reader

1-

Being able to live freely without the constant pressure of a nation wanting to drain every ounce of life from you must be paradise on earth.

Yet, when you come to the world with the curse of being born the descendants of Ymir, you cannot even imagine a world coming close to your dearest dreams.

This affliction is not just an excuse to harass you, it is literally the death of you.

They will, with no valid reason, send you to meet death.

On the battlefield you will be cannon meat.

In the daily life you will be the outburst of those who were lucky enough to be born free of this curse.

From your first breath of air to the last one, you will be afflicted with the anxiety of being killed.

This anxiety will ink itself on every corner of your flesh leaving an indelible mark on your conscience.

Yet you will deeply envy those who worked hard to be considered what can come closer to an human being in their eyes.

When you have nothing to offer the homeland, don’t you dare say a thing.

Or you could pay for it with your life.

In the last moments life has to offer you, maybe there will be someone to save you.

—

The way back home was always the hardest part of the day. Moreover when she was carrying her heavy groceries bag.

She sometimes regretted having chosen to live in a house so far away from the gates. At least she comforted herself by telling herself she was far from the morning commoar.

On her way back home she crossed paths with some children from the neighbourhood.

Despite their miserable lives in these camp they were still running around, smiles plastered on their tiny little faces.

In a rush of inattention, one of the small figures ran into the young woman which caused some of her recent purchases to fall to the ground.

The huge eyes of the child lightened up in a sort of fearful expression. This reaction was indeed normal, out of the camp, such a banality could have caused his death.

These men were heartless and made no difference.

This chilling thought then pushed her to lower herself to his level to pick up her things and once done she replaced her full attention on the boy.

With the most lovely and gentle gaze, she looked at him and slowly began to remove the dust on his clothing.

"Hey there brave little one, are you okay ? Are your knees not scratched ?"

He quietly responded to her with a quick nodding.

"You have to be more careful however…"

She just couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence, the reality was way too harsh for a little kid.

"I-I’m sorry madam!"

"Don’t worry, it’s no big deal !"

She was so mesmerised by the innocent look this boy was wearing on his face.

In a way, she envied him for being this pure.

But for now, she had the possibility to keep this innocence alive a little longer.

In a quick motion, she reached for the jacket she was carrying on her arm and searched for something in the front pocket.

After a short struggle, she was finally able to pull out an handful of sweet treats.

Once more, the boy eyes lightened up, but this time it was joy.

"Here for you, don’t hesitate to share with your other friends okay?"

Saying the boy literally gasped for air was an euphemism.

If he was happy, so was she.

And as quickly as he could, he ran away shouting a thank you with a large smile.

She waved at him and stood up in order to finally return home.

After ten painful minutes of walking, she had finally arrived home and didn’t wait any longer to get inside.

She unshelved her shoes, put the shopping basket on the nearest chair and folded her coat on the only sofa.

After a short rince under cold water, she lingered in the storage of her purchases.

However it was a quick task, living alone wasn’t requiring a lot in the fridge.

The house she was living in was somewhat primitive and in very poor shape despite all her efforts she was putting to make is look decent.

The clock’s ticking above the door announced seven in the evening. It wasn’t really late but she was still exhausted and was struggling to keep up with the book she was currently reading.

She couldn’t stop yawning and her eyes closed themselves at times.

There, on her armchair she finally gave up and let the tiredness take it away.

However, not even one hour later she was brutally pulled out of her sleep by the sound of banging on the door.

At first she thought dreaming because why would someone walk all the way there to knock at her door? With this thought, she closed her eyes to continue her sleep.

However, the continued insistence of the drumming on the front door clearly meant that it was not a dream.

In a panic she rose up from her seat and looked up with fear at the door.

"You demon, we sure know you are in there! Open the godamn door!"

Throughout the window next to it, she could see two officers dressed up in their uniforms.

This wasn’t good.

It was terrible even.

She looked at her left shoulder and noticed the armband was missing, in her still dizzy mind she frantically searched for it all around the small room.

Even in the intimacy of your home you had to wear it.

Tears were starting to form at the corner of her eyes and she was now struggling to search in the drawers.

After what seemed to be an eternity she finally got her hand on the most important piece of tissue of the house.

However, she was still shaking from the stress the door’s banging gave her.

In a desperate attempt to control her fear she once more looked at the window, hoping to see nothing but the setting sun.

But no, she was struck by the sight of one of the officers who was cheerfully looking into her intimacy.

"You! Open the door immediately !"

She was standing still but had no other choice but to obey.

In the short distance which was separating her from the door, she couldn’t stop but to think about all the possible crimes she could have committed.

Going out without her papers, looking askance at an officer, cutting the road to a privileged... the possibilities were endless.

Yet, she was now in front the door and couldn’t bring herself to stop shaking.

A last breath of air, turn the key into the lock and open the door wide.

All this in one go as to not hesitate any longer.

"You’re lucky we’re not there to kill you. When we ask for the door to be opened, the door must be opened under one minute. You demoniacs creature!"

What? What was happening ?

Without even looking at her, he pushed her away to enter the house.

"Look at her face! She’s terrified!"

The second one did the exact same thing while bursting out laughing.

"Maybe you have something to blame yourself for?"

In a sudden twist, he dangerously approached her with a menacing grin.

Completely distraught by the situation she was now in, she only was able to violently shook her head.

The two who had stormed the house, without an ounce of respect or consideration, searched every corner while putting a nameless mess.

She was stuck in a position where she could either run away through the wide open door and hope not to get caught or docilely close the latter and sit in front of two monsters that could put her under an undeserved punishment.

Her choice was the second option as stupid as it might sound.

Slamming the door and docilely pushing her legs right inside the mouth of the wolf.

"May I serve you something to drink ?"

In an attempt to be nice she was forced to face the harsh reality.

"May you shut it and just sit down, we’re not here to make friends with the dirty rats of your kind."

It wasn’t a question of pride in such a situation, you had to obey and to obey quickly.

"My body is itching, don’t you guys know how to clean ?"

She gulped down her fear and waited for the sentence to be dropped.

"We were sent out today by one of your secret admirers, aren’t you a lucky girl huh?"

For the first time she gathered enough courage to look at them because what were they talking about ?

"This guy paid great money to offer you this, so consider yourself lucky we accepted his request. I can affirm you, if it hadn’t been the case we would have probably sent someone to kill you tonight ."

The men in front of her seemed to have a monologue between them, as if they weren’t talking to someone. They were too detached from reality, how could you humanly talk about killing someone with no second thought?

"He even let you a love letter with his small gesture."

"How pathetic of him."

The second added.

Once again they burst out laughing.

Caught off guard, he tossed at her a small and poorly packaged kraft bag wrapped in a string that seemed to have already been opened.

"I no longer want to stay here, I’m getting out of this rats house."

"Let’s head back to the bar."

And as quickly as they distributed her peace, they left.

She followed them only to close her door in a double turn and shutting the curtains down.

And only then she felt safe again.

While trying to understand what had just occurred, she made her way back to the table where she left the little package.

She was all the more intrigued, confused and concerned about the possible content of the latter.

How could such a light thing be costing a lot of money?

After drying her tears she slowly lingered her finger on the brown paper, feeling every crinkles under her touch.

"A secret admirer huh? What a strange thing, how could you love someone in this endless war ?"

She carefully picked up the piece and went to take a seat on the armchair on which she was previously peacefully sleeping.

With a great refinement she put it on her lap and slowly untied the string to release the letter.

It was a one sided paper yet when she turned it around to read the content, her blood turned cold.

"For my future wife.

May you stay safe with this little present of mine.

Yet if it is not enough, I still will be there, just behind you."

Suddenly her whole body was aching, her head was spinning and was heavily sweating.

It was starting again, this never ending cycle of being watched in the darkness of the shadows.

Suddenly the door she had closed and the curtain she had shut down weren’t enough anymore.

She was being violated in her own home.

Her own privacy wasn’t enough because deep inside she knew he was coming back for her.

She, who believed it was finally over, have just been fooled indeed.

Her nails violently sank into her palm and she folded herself under the difficulty in breathing.

In a desperate effort to keep her sanity, she eagerly threw the card across the room and abruptly stood up from her seat.

Yet the pain was so intense she felt forward on her knees, scratching them on the raw soil’s surface.

And there, on this hard floor, she miserably reached for her heart as to make sure she was still alive.

God only knew how much she wanted it to stop beating at this very moment.

Still, the fury engraved in her body forced her to hastily get up and grab the remaining piece of the so-called "gift".

With nothings close to the gentility she used to open the first one, she tore open the paper and threw it away on the floor.

She couldn’t believe what she was now holding onto her hands.

Between her shaking fingers laid out a bright red armband.

For the second time of the evening, tears started to flow down her cheeks and troubled her vision.

Wobbling between incomprehension and denial, she couldn’t wraps her head around this present.

What was the meaning behind such a thing?

Was it a display of power? A way to tell her he was able to keep an eye on her ?

As she did for the letter, she turned around and, blinded by the rage, threw it on the armchair on which she was previously in peace.

Her thoracic cage rose and fell at high speed; she was hyperventilating.

Part 2 here

[azurlily]

Have a good read.

Day 4 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. These TWO yanderes clash in personality and in action. As always DARK FUCKING THEMES

No explanation needed, it's in the title.

Yandere!Annie Leonhart and Yandere!Pieck Finger HEADCANNONS SFW AND NSFW

Wow, just wow, how the flying fuck did you fuck up this badly.

You live in Paradis, you grew up with a set of rose colored glasses on your eyes. You were just a child when the colossal titan appeared. That's when your path was made, your path to not only Annie, but Pieck too.

You joined the military training corps and met Annie. You were the only one who was genuinely interested in being friends with Annie. You weren't Beretoldt or Reiner, who were there put of obligation, nor were you scared of her. Okay, maybe a little bit.

Annie killed Marco. She killed him simply because he asked you out. That was enough means to kill him without hesitation.

You trusted Annie with all your heart. When she told you she was the female titan, though. You thought she was learning how to joke, and this was a bad, bad joke.

Things took a turn for the worse when she was captured by the scouts. You were one of the first to be investigated, you lied and said you didn't know. You said Annie seemed normal, and you didn't believe she'd ever be a monster.

Years went by, and it hurt. It hurt to lose someone so close to you, someone you trusted with all your being. Over time though, you slowly got used to it. Got used to the pain of missing her.

You joined the scouts at some point and started working along side Mikasa. You and her became somewhat a pair. Things were good, I mean not really, but you get it.

When you heard Annie was released from her shell, you were one of the first to actually talk to her. Your fear as well as anger that she left you, it was a lot to take it. You love Annie dearly, even if she did hurt you in a way.

Annie clung to you like never before, she practically refused to leave you. She considered herself to not be on a side, unless it was yours. Annie fights for you, and only you.

She would start hiding random things like knifes on her. In case she had to deal with someone for you. She's more than willing to deal with her long time Mikasa problem...

You met Pieck at Marley. You met her when things went south with Eren and everyone was regrouping. Pieck had this voice, it made you feel calm. You didn't tense up as much, you felt safe around her. It was odd.

You felt safe around Annie, but never like this. Never in such a way. You felt like you could trust Pieck, her sweet smile. Her brown eyes always watching over you.

You didn't realise she was conditioning you. She wanted to use to being around her more, being around her eyes and falling into them. She and Annie spent more and more time with you. Their psychotic behavior showing more and more.

You'd wake up and feel someone staring at you. You'd look around and see Pieck sleeping in her titan form...except she wasn't asleep. She was wide awake and was watching you, she saw you move and closed her eyes.

Annie and Pieck took shifts on taking care of you, as well as slowly isolating you from everyone else.

"Pieck, I understand, bit patients is key!"

"Annie if I have to wait any longer, ik going to kill her without hesitation! How dare Mikasa touch her!"

Piecks titan form almost killing Mikasa because she hugged you.

Yep. She, without hesitation transformed, and almost ate Mikasa alive.

Pieck was stopped and knocked out, she didn't seem too happy. Annie on the other hand seemed quite please with the result of this: Mikass leaving you the hell alone, and practically refusing to even look at you.

You noticed in the time everyone was wary of Pieck, Annie and her seemed to be getting along better than before. Much, much, much better.

It was one that started it all. Pieck and Annie had come to a mutual agreement, they would share you. In exchange, you wouldn't love anyone else. You only needed the two of them anyway.

It had been a few weeks and everyone had slowly brushed off the incident. That was until the three of you disappeared. In the middle of the night, all the food, water, weapons, and supplies had disappeared. So had you, Pieck, and Annie.

Most feared the worst, that someone(a yeagerist) had come and taken you three and the supplies. While it was a fair assumption, it was dead wrong.

Pieck and Annie had been planning this for weeks. From the day Pieck attacked Mikasa to the day you all dissapeared.

Annie knew if she attacked Mikasa would have cut her down. The obvious choice was Pieck. Now where would you three go? Hm?

Easy. They were still in Marley territory, and Pieck had done enough missions to know her way around. She knew a small abandoned village near a lake- perfect place to hide away from the world.

The two knew that the world was going to end, and they couldn't stop it. So they did what they could, while they could.

You had woken up in a warm bed, in a pair of warm arms, Annie's arms. You looked around, you assumed that camp had been moved, but when Annie wouldn't let you leave her side. You got suspicious.

"Listen, everyone else is out, there is no point in doing all of this. You need rest, you've been working hard. Go. To. Sleep."

The last part wasn't a suggestion, she was giving you a command. While she hoped you'd take it, if not...it would become Piecks problem. While Annie is good at dealing punishments, she isn't good at. . . non-sexual ones.

Pieck on the other hand can play the role of the angry mother. Teaching her dumb child a lesson. Pieck is the worst of the two, she's mean and she knows it. She has a motherly vibe and uses your weakness to it to her advantage.

You fought her until you finally got out of Annies grip. You ran out only to see no one else around, you were alone. With two very, very psychotic girls.

Annie ran out to take you back it, and that's when you heard it. You turned to see Pieck in her titan form, glaring down at you two. She looked a lot scarier like that, considering she could eat you at any moment.

"Please go back inside."

That all you needed to hear. You ran in. Once you saw the smoke and watched Annie and Pieck walk in, you knew what had happened. What you didn't know, is that this was going to go on until you three died.

And I don't mean from Eren. He was stopped, these two girl. Nothing can stop them.

It took about a few months to see just how crazy they really are. Pieck will kill anyone and anything on sight, she goes fishing in her titan form. Annie cooks, and cleans, she's also the one keeping the knives hidden. Wether to keep her and Pieck safe from you, or to keep you safe from an angry Pieck.

Annie does sexual punishments, as well as mental punishments. She makes you think eveyone threw you away, that they didn't care, and that you were meaningless. Pieck deal the physical punishments, you'd be surprised the strength she has when you piss her off. It usually consists of her holding you in her arms as you cry; dragging a knife against your skin. She doesn't care if you cry out for help from Annie. It wont do much.

"Please don't cry, it only hurts if you move, angel. Please don't move."

You always do though, you get scared and jump. The knife sinks deep into your skin. You cry in pain and Pieck hushes you, tells you to breath and talks you through the pain.

It takes time for you to live them, if you ever do. They know what they're doing is wrong, and mad, and horrible, not that they care. They love seeing you, just seeing you has endorphins rushing through them.

You have night where you cry, you lay down and cry and think about your friends and family. Those are the only nights they leave you alone, they let you be by yourself. Be in your own mind, because they know what it's like to lose so many. They both know you deserve the right to grieve, for however long it takes.

In the end, both girls will find a way in the bed, snuggling up to you. You sniffle against them, and wonder if this is a neverending nightmare.

"Shh, shh, I know, I know you miss them. It'll all be okay, Annie nor I will leave you. Ever."

"Piecks right, we know were not the lover's you need, but were the best you got currently. We will always be here for you."

Annie secretly enjoys seeing you cry in her arms, it let's her know your trust her enough to be weak around her. Pieck likes it because she's secretly a freaky sadist...

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Completely different people. In bed you see(depending on your preferences) the best/worst sides of them. Annie is, rough, and mean(a brat), and a bottom sometimes, and did I mention can go for over 6 rounds!? Pieck is a sadist mommy dom, hard top, kinkier than all hell, and she can go for about 7 maybe 8 rounds.

Both girls have a lot of pent up sexual energy, so while they were sleeping with eachother for a while.(after you three "dissapeared"). That doesn't mean they dont still want you. No in fact, it makes it much worse because they want all of you.

Unless you give them permission though, they wont do it. They'll look at you, think about you, even moan your name while sleeping with eachother. They never touch you until you're ready.

Although once your ready, be ready because they do not stop for a long, long time. At first they're both scared, they think you'll back out or push them away if they're too rough.

They don't wont to hurt you unless necessary...or unless it feels good. Cough cough Pieck.

They're so sweet with you the first night, Annie ate you out while Pieck held you through it, and rubbed you clit. She kissed you all over, and your neck was covered in marks. Both girls truly tried their hardest when it came to not scaring you, they really did!

Over time you started to see their kinkier sides come out. One night Pieck pulled on your hair and made you beg to eat her out, you did as commanded. She was in so much bliss she didn't even see the tears forming in your eyes as she pulled on your hair.

She was apologizing for days after that one.

Annie slipped up one night when she thought you weren't giving her enough attention. She grabbed your throat and told you to give her your love and not just Pieck, or else. She ment it. She started biting your neck and giving you large marks that sure as hell weren't just hickeys.

She felt so bad she was the one begging later. Begging for you to forgive her that is.

There have been times where it's only you and Annie or you and Pieck. The girls do act differently because they don't have to share in those moments. Annie is more bratty, usually she's "corrected" by Pieck. Pieck is rougher, more times than not Annie has to remind her to calm down.

Both have a long possessive streak. They went into a nearby town with you once and saw some girls staring at you. All you remember from that night is blood, the smell of metal, and the taste of Pieck and Annie's tounges in your mouth.

"Mm, so good for me. My little angel, you need all of mommy's love and attention, huh?"

"Pretty thing, you're going to look prettier with my markings on you. We can even show Pieck later."

They have fucked you over a dead body at least once. They find it fun, and you're being fucked so well, you dont even notice.

When you finally tell them you want to see the real side of them in bed, they were both sceptical. They were afraid you run and hide, they were afraid that the work they'd dont would go to waste. You assured them, or you tried to at least.

Finally the two agree. That night was on of the best you'd ever had.

Annie had been repeatedly trying to scratch and bote your throat, she'd do it purposely and sometimes she'd do it subconsciously. She pinned you to the bed and had a momentary fight on who was first to eat you.

Pieck won. She ate you better than she ever has before. Instead of all the gentle teasing from before, now she'd grab your hips and practically force your pussy against her face. She licks, and bites, and nips, and sucks. She does everything differently, she's hard, and rough, and seeing you cry from overstimulation puts her so close to her edge.

You pull on her hair and scratch at her head. You begged for her to slow down, all she'd do is give you a sweet smile and go back to destroying your poor pussy. When she finally decided that she was done, you had to tap out for the night. There was no way you could continue after that.

You watched the two girls have a couple goes a it before coming to lay down with you. A few nights later Annie pounces on you, she gives you a sharp glare. She was mad she didn't get her turn last time, and mad at you for not giving her the time to play with you.

When it comes to eating you out Annie is much meaner than Pieck. She teases you, tests the water, she wants to see how long she can drag things out. She'll listen to you whine, and cry, and beg her to eat your pussy. You'll beg saying you're aching, and you need it, but it doesn't matter. Annie let's you cum, when she believes you deserve it.

She of course at some point does finally give in. She makes things feels better than they ever have before. You have on multiple occasions cried because of how hard you came from her tounge.

Annie and Pieck are such great lovers. They love making you feel good, but they also know moderation. They help calm you down, help you breath through it all.

Aftercare is something else with those two. One is scared to even touch you(Pieck), and the other is still riled up and has a hard time thinking properly(Annie). Pieck always worries you hate her when you're done, she thinks her sadistic tendencies hurt you. Shes has and will cry over it. Annie can barely focus on her surroundings. She either watching you waiting for you to move, or she's angry. With herself of course.

Annie is angry that you might not like it. She's just as afraid as Pieck. She is better at hiding it, yandere!Annie is more emotional and scary at times. This is because she can't control herself around you. She needs you, that includes your body.

Please let them love you. Both girls have gone through literal hell, they need someone, you, they need you. Please be there for them.

DONT EVER SAY I DON'T SPOIL YALL!!! I DO DAMMIT! Anyway I really enjoyed writing this one. It was one if my personal favorites. Please of you are interested in commissions go look at THIS PAGE. (Just click the words). Have a good day/night.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Hey, do you do yandere aot girls x fem reader oneshots? If so, can you make a yandere Annie x fem reader please? (Modern Au)

Reader is Annie's best friend but has a crush on Bertholdt. Annie does not like that and ends up beating Bertholdt up, resulting in him ending up in hospital. At the end, maybe Annie cuddles amd comforts the reader (while acting all innocent)?

Crush Killer

A/N: OMG YES. Just for you pookie ❤️❤️❤️ Yandere! Annie Leondhart x Female Reader.

Modern AU

“Annie!!” Y/N called out cheerfully as she ran towards the blonde haired girl and hugged her from behind. “I missed you over the weekend!” 

“Okay.” Annie bluntly said as she side hugged the happy girl. “How was your morning?”

”It was so good! I woke up and went to the bathroom to get ready for that day-“ Y/N rambled as they walked to the school. Annie would just stay silent and let Y/N talk since she just loved to hear her voice. Who wouldn’t? It was so angelic and not to mention her lips moving so gracefully. Her luscious hair, so silky and her pretty face just so beautiful like a doll.

”Annie, I heard that Bertolt came back from his vacation! I wonder if he remembered me and brought me something!” Y/N said as her hands made way up to her cheeks. “He’s soo handsome!~”

”Whatever you say, Y/N.” Annie said as they crossed the road. The one person in her way, Bertolt Hoover. Sure he was the basketball legend of the school, had great grades and a good upbringing but he was nothing but a nuisance.

He constantly hung out with Y/N during break, whenever Reiner would be busy with rugby. During class, he would always try to talk or pass notes with Y/N, in which she always responded. Not to mention, when Bertolt would ask the teacher to move closer to Y/N or in fact become her partner in class. He even had the audacity to bring her flowers on Valentines Day!

”Hey Y/N.. maybe it’s best if you forget about Bertolt.” Annie suggested causing Y/N to look at her shocked.

”W-what?! Why would I forget my 4-year-long crush?!” Y/N asked. “Do you think I’m not beautiful enough for him? Now wait, he’s so handsome that he probably won’t even think I’m even pretty!”

”What, no! I’m just saying that your out of his league. He’s not good enough for you.” Annie reassured. Her faith in that silly little crush was diminishing by the second! Annie just had to make sure that it wouldn’t affect her thoughts on her physical appearance.

“Still, after 4 years of talking, group projects and so much more, I’m not going to give up!” Y/N said with hope.

Reaching the school grounds, Y/N greeted her classmates around the seated areas and benches before sitting down herself. Looking at her watch, the two girls realised that they had time before their first class.

“I haven’t seen Bertolt yet.. what if he isn’t in because he’s sick?” Y/N thought out loud. “I don’t want to text him because then he’ll think I’m obsessed with him but if I don’t then he’ll think I don’t care about him!”

”Dont. He’ll probably leave you on read.” Annie said as he bit into a snack.

”You think he will?!” Y/N asked before a towering figure stopped in front of them. “B-Bertolt!”

“H-hey Y/N.! I uhm came back from vacation and uh thought I could say hi.” Bertolt said as he rubbed his nape.

”So say hi and leave. We’re talking-“ Annie began to say.

”Annie! Don’t be so harsh.” Y/N whispered before turning to look at the dark brunette only to blush. “S-sit down beside m-me if you want.” Bertolt proceeded to sit in between the two girls, separating the two girls. Much to Annie’s disappointment, she began to kick rocks and pebbles at his expensive shoes, wondering how they would look, scattered across his bloodied face.

”C-can you and I talk at L-Lunch Time.? I have something important to t-tell you but I can’t at Break b-because I have Basketball Practice.” Bertolt stuttered out as he rubbed his neck and sweated.

”Sure!” Y/N said.

”But Y/N, you and I are going to hang out together during Lunch.” Annie said unhappily.

”Oh right. It'll be quick though so you can wait a bit, right?” Y/N asked as Annie nodded to.

”I wanted to give you t-these.” Bertolt said as he handed over a gift bag. “I g-got it when I was on vacation. I remembered you talking about them and thought you’d want one.”

Opening the bag, Y/N saw accessories and different types of lotions along with tasty chocolates. Quickly hugging Bertolt and saying thank you, Y/N and Annie rushed to their first class. How could Bertolt do that?! Annie had just the right amount of money and was about to order her favourite things. 

Sitting down in class, Annie had day dreamed the whole time as the teacher yapped on and on over something that wasn’t even class related. Bertolt had practice at Break, right? He was most likely going to confess at lunch too or would he try and humiliate her in front of all those guys? Annie just had to make sure that he wouldn’t lay a hand on her precious darling.

.

.

.

“At Lunch Time? You should have told her to meet at the end of the day.” Reiner said as he walked with Bertolt to the changing rooms. “And why’s you give the present in the morning? You could’ve given it when you confessed.”

”I didn’t know! I got really nervous..” Bertolt replied as he reached his teams changing room.

”You’re always the first person to arrive. See you later then.” Reiner said before walking off.

Walking in Bertolt began to lay his bags down and opened his P.E kit and sorted out his clothes nicely. The door opened and when Bertolt looked up he saw Annie standing at the door, unbothered by his half clothed torso.

”Annie.?! This is the guys changing room, what’re you doing in here?” Bertolt asked, startled.

”I’m not interested in your lanky body so don’t think I’m in here to spy on you change.” Annie said as she walked up to him.

”D-do you mind?! I’m getting c-changed.” Bertolt exclaimed as he covered his chest with his shirt.

”Do you have any idea of how much I have to struggle.? How much I have to deal with Y/N, going on and on about how you’re so handsome and so brilliant?” Annie asked as she gripped something behind her.

”S-she thinks that.?!” Bertolt asked shocked.

”Do you know how pissed I get when she looks at you with such lovey-dovey eyes and not me?!” Annie asked angrily before swinging a baseball bat at him.

“Agh! Annie what the hell are you doing?!” Bertolt asked as he gripped his head and fell to the floor.

”Getting rid of a pest.” Annie muttered before continuously hitting his body with the bat. Despite his constant attempts to escape, Annie dragged Bertolt back into the corner and kept beating his head violently with the bat until his head was nothing but blood. The scene was gory. Quickly wiping the bat clean, Annie left the room to attend to Y/N.

Entering the changing room, the basketball players each walked in on the body, laying in the corner, sprawled on the floor. Quickly calling a teacher, an ambulance was called and they quickly took the unrecognisable body to the hospital. 

“Annie? You seem really quiet.” Y/N said, snapping Annie out of her trance. “Are you alright?”

”Y-yeah yeah.. it seems like there’s a problem.” Annie said as she looked at the ambulance. “Seems like someone got hurt.”

”I feel bad for them.. wait.” Y/N began to say until she squinted her eyes and looked at the body on the gurney. “Oh my god.! That body looks unrecognisable, so bloody and disgusting..”

”Y/N!” Reiner called out as he rushed over to the girls. “Was Bertolt with you?”

”B-Bertolt? No, I thought he had Basketball Practice.” Y/N said.

”Goddammit! That guy on the gurney must be Bertolt!” Reiner said with an extremely hurt expression. 

“W-what?!” Y/N exclaimed as she got up and looked at Reiner, Annie still sitting down and unbothered.

”We can’t go now but at the end of the school day we’ll have to rush to the hospital..” Reiner muttered as he clasped a hand over his mouth.

”Your skipping practice for Bertolt?” Annie asked.

”Wha- of course! That’s literally my best friend in hospital.” Reiner said before leaving. 

“Annie.. Bertolt is hurt! I feel so bad and I was going to confess to him at Lunch!” Y/N began to say as gripped her skirt.

”Y-Y/N. Come on back here.” Annie said as she patted the seat beside her. Y/N sat down beside her and sobbed into her shoulder, remembering the sight of her crush.

”He must’ve been in so much pain whilst we just talked amongst each other!” Y/N sobbed out.

”Yeah.. whoever did that must be a monster..” Annie muttered before running her hands through Y/N’s hair gently.

[dumbkiri]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌

This is a small preview to a future series. This will be an AOT story in a "modern-era" with supernatural creatures. Mainly vampires! This will be a Male!Reader x AOT characters, but mainly with Mikasa/Annie. Haven't really chose who will be the one, but those two will be the main ones.

MC will be a Yan!MC, not so much abuse will be involved!! Not that many dark themes will be added regarding that. He's just crazy bc he lost his first mate so.....yee.

It’s said that the night is terrifying in every possible way. That it would only take a person to imagine what was lying in the dark. 

“Levi, come here.”

A black haired male, well into his early 30s, looked away from the moon shining through the ceiling glass window. His silver blue eyes dragged downward and onto a male sitting on a black chair illuminated by the blue moonlight. The voice belonged to him and Levi walked over to the man sitting at the desk, seeing the hungry red eyes of his superior. 

“Bring me anyone from Nostalgia,” The man with red eyes ordered, his fangs peeking out every syllable he spoke. The man’s hand was placed under his chin holding up his terribly weakening body. His superior had been suffering for the past weeks because of the lack of sufficient blood he needed. 

In response, Levi sighed with a roll of his eyes and said, “Their blood is tainted and you want to drink from them? I think it’s a shitty idea for you to do that, so just drink from me.” Levi offered his arm out and in his other hand appeared a dagger with a black hilt and gold trimming. He saw the dangerous flash of the bright red eyes of his superior and he brought the blade to his wrist. He pointed the tip in and before he could draw a line, he was stopped with an order. 

“Freeze,” The commanding voice said and Levi stopped in his tracks. The order was so strong even when his superior was lacking the blood to keep him powerful. “Levi, you cannot be the one I bond with. You are my greatest friend and I cannot drag you to Hell with me. I will only drink from those beneath me.”

Levi gritted his teeth and released himself from the commandment with a groan. He took a deep breath in and huffed out, “You’re going to die if you don’t drink from a hybrid or a pureblood. If Freida didn’t stray away-”

“Freida was naive!” The man shouted in anger, standing up from his chair and slamming his fist onto the desk. It broke in half under his strength and his papers went flying. “She was my mate! And she was killed because she didn’t listen to me! That stupid brat she spent time with, her foolish father got Frieda killed!” 

Levi looked down at the floor, ignoring the heated gaze from his superior. Bringing up Frieda was poor taste, but it was needed. 

“[Name] as your greatest friend,” Levi started his sentence, clenching the dagger in his hand tightly, “I cannot watch you like this. I will find you another mate, one that will listen to you. You need better blood, one that will give you strength. If you succumb to thirst, they will come for you next.” 

[Name] looked down at his broken desk and relaxed his hand, a large splinter had made its way into his palm. His blood slowly oozed from the wound he created. Then his red eyes looked up to see Levi turned away with his hand covering his nose. [Name] walked over to his cupboard and took a small glass out. He set it down on the counter and pulled the splinter out with ease, not even wincing from the pain. 

“It’ll be a waste, Levi,” [Name] said softly, flicking the splinter off to the side. His wounded hand hovered over the glass and he formed a fist making the blood flow faster down into the cup. Then he focused on healing his wound, watching as it closed up not a trace of a scar. 

[Name] raised the half full cup and swirled the bright red blood of his around. He watched the slight glitter it gave off and smiled. His blood was still pure despite him drinking from humans. “You have served me well, so let me serve you just this once,” [Name] spoke as he walked to Levi who gave him a glare of resentment.

“No,” Levi scowled and kept his nose covered, “I will not drink your blood.”

“Are you afraid, Levi?” [Name] asked with concern, the glass still held out to the black haired male. He was standing before Levi, the hybrid ignoring his gaze and [Name] smacked his lips. His anger getting the best of him, “Fine then, I'll force that human I have held in the dungeons to drink my blood. Maybe he’ll be more intrigued by my offer than you. Or I’ll ask that crazy scientist to have a taste. Both those humans are prisoners to the truth, they would want to see what happens, don’t you think?” 

Levi hardened his gaze and [Name] could hear the beating heart of the shorter male. A dangerous glint flittered in his eyes and [Name] knew Levi was not going to watch another human die from drinking royalty’s blood. So Levi held his hand out and [Name] smirked with deviousness, “And he succumbs to the Devil.” 

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 4

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Series Masterlist <3

Summary: A tense night takes an unexpected turn, blurring the lines between control, desire, and something far more dangerous.

Warnings: Possessiveness, power dynamics, strong language, mature content, smut, violence, sexual content, mentions of sexual assault/rape, foul language, yandere (if i forgot any pls let me know <3)

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Homelander stands in the lobby, hands in his pockets, waiting for you. He looks every bit the Hollywood superstar, dressed in an impeccably tailored Armani suit. The staff and even Ashley stare at him, wide-eyed, surprised to see him actually dressed up.

“Quit staring,” he snaps, voice sharp. “I’m capable of looking presentable.”

Despite the irritation in his tone, he keeps glancing at his watch, his gaze flicking toward the elevator doors, anticipating your arrival. Ashley studies him carefully, her brows furrowing. Something is different. She can see it in the way he holds himself, the subtle tension in his shoulders, the rare sign of nervousness in the way he shifts his weight. She knows Homelander is possessive, but this? This is something else.

Then, the elevator doors slide open. The entire lobby stills.

Homelander’s breath catches in his throat, his gaze locked onto you as you step out. Even Ashley—who rarely reacts to anything—is stunned into silence, her mouth parting slightly as she takes in your appearance.

Every muscle in his body tenses, his instincts flaring to life. He sees the way people turn to look at you, the murmurs passing through the room. He doesn’t like it. He steps forward, jaw tight, fighting the urge to fly you the fuck out of here.

—

“Okay, so, your first interview on the carpet is fifteen minutes after arrival,” your publicist reminds you, flipping through a clipboard. “MTV is first—you’re really winning them over. Let’s keep it that way.”

You nod absentmindedly, but your focus is on him. He stands nearby, watching you intently, smug and satisfied that you’re so distracted by him. He can’t help but smirk. Your publicist keeps rattling off information, but you barely process it. Instead, you catch Homelander’s gaze and, subtly, mimic a blowjob gesture—fist pumping at your mouth as a way to say “I’m so fucking bored”.

He shakes his head, amused, and approaches you with a smile.

“You really have a way with words, sweetheart.”

The publicist pauses, eyes flicking between you and him. She clearly wasn’t expecting this.

“Homelander, can we chat?” Lindsay, your publicist, cuts in.

His expression immediately shifts, guarded.

“What is it?” He’s clearly irritated she’s interrupting.

“Alone.”

Homelander’s eyes flick to you. He doesn’t want to leave your side. But he knows Lindsay won’t let this go.

“Fine.” He grits his teeth. “Make it quick.”

Lindsay folds her arms, walking a few steps away from you.

“Word travels fast. It’s her first day in the Tower and she’s glued to your side. What’s your endgame?”

Homelander’s brow twitches.

“She was brought onto The Seven for Gen Z appeal,” Lindsay continues, unfazed by his glare. “And I mean this with respect—because I know you could laser my fucking head off—but you two have totally different audiences. So tell me… what’s your goal with her? If it’s something unkind—if you’re just using her—I need to know. Not because I’m her publicist. Because I’m a mother. And she—”

She gestures toward you from across the room, her expression softening. “She doesn’t have one. She has no one looking out for her. So, I figure I should. Does that make sense?”

Homelander stares. For a moment, he doesn’t say a word.

He wants to be pissed that she’s questioning him. Who the fuck does she think she is? But instead, something in him pauses. Because he gets it. He knows what it’s like to have no one looking out for you.

His jaw clenches. “You think I’m going to hurt her?”

Lindsay exhales. “I’m saying this because I care. And I know damn well you could kill me right now, so bear with me and just be a fucking human for a moment.”

Her voice lowers. “Your track record isn’t great, Homelander. She’s young. She’s vulnerable. Remember when you were that age? Fresh on The Seven? Of course, you were always the most powerful. But do you remember when you were trusting? Timid? Do you really think you have her best interest at heart?”

His nostrils flare.

He doesn’t like this.

He doesn’t like being confronted with memories he’s buried.

He doesn’t like the implication that he isn’t good for you.

“I…” He swallows hard. He doesn’t do vulnerability. But the words slip out before he can stop them.

“I do care about her. I mean, yes. We just met. Thanks for stating the obvious, Lindsay. But I care. I do.”

Lindsay holds his gaze.

Then, she nods. “Just don’t prove otherwise.”

She pivots on her heel and walks away, offering you a bright, easy smile like she didn’t just challenge the most dangerous man on the planet.

Homelander watches her leave, his mind racing.

He hates that she got under his skin. He hates that she forced him to admit something even to himself. But most of all—

He hates that she’s right about him.

—

You approach him, sensing the tension. You don’t want to overstep, so you choose to change the subject.

“Do I look like a total poser in this?” You smooth your hands down the sleek fabric, feeling slightly out of place in something so fancy.

Homelander’s expression softens instantly. His gaze roams over you—slowly, deliberately.

“You look…” His voice is low, rough. “Absolutely goddamn perfect.”

You look down, smiling shyly. “Don’t leave me tonight,” you say, voice soft. “I feel awkward as fuck.”

Homelander steps closer, towering over you, crowding your space. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The way he says it—so final, so sure—sends warmth through you.

You hesitate for a moment, then reach for his hand. This is so unlike you. You feel out of your body. Are you out of your mind?

His entire body stills.

The weight of your fingers in his hits him like a punch to the chest.

You know what this means. The media will talk. Vought will talk. But you don’t care. Why don’t you care?

You feel safe with him. And for some reason—Homelander feels safe with you, too. So his grip tightens—possessive, unchallenged.

The weight of a thousand stares settles on him, the murmur of whispers creeping around them like static. The media. The Vought execs. The cameras.

And he doesn’t give a single fuck.

—

As you step onto the red carpet, the energy in the air shifts. All eyes are on you.

This wasn’t a part of the branding. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

Too bad.

A reporter wastes no time pushing forward, mic in hand, eyes wide with interest.

“Well—this is unexpected,” she says, forcing a polite smile. “Can we get a comment on this sudden… pairing?”

Homelander parts his lips to respond— but you cut him off.

“Yes, thank you so much!” you say smoothly, smiling for the cameras. “I’m so happy to be here and to be a part of The Seven. I’m honored Homelander put his trust in me!”

You don’t answer the question.

You deflected. Smart. But that’s not what he wanted.

He grits his teeth, fingers flexing against yours, gripping just a little tighter. The reporters eat it up, the execs continue seething, and Homelander?

He just stands there, holding back the urge to grab your face and make things very, very clear. Because obviously, he hasn’t been clear enough.

The reporter hesitates, waiting for more. But you don’t give her any other clues.

Instead, you smile, a polite, closed-lip expression, and turn away. “Thank you.”

“Alright, you need to take some solo shots in front of this,” your publicist cuts in. “Excuse us, Homelander.”

Homelander follows anyway.

You’d think he was the rookie, following your lead.

You step in front of the cameras, striking pose after pose, effortlessly stunning. He watches, arms crossed, expression unreadable—but inside?

He’s fucking losing it.

Pride. Jealousy. Desire. It all collides at once.

The flashes go off like fireworks, illuminating every inch of you, and he hates it.

Hates how much he wants to rip the photographers apart. Hates that the world gets to see you like this.

Hates that you aren’t posing just for him.

“Take a photo with Homelander! Take one with Homelander!”

The reporter’s voice snaps him out of it.

His gaze sharpens.

“Take a photo with Homelander!” she repeats.

Fine.

He steps forward, his arm immediately finding your waist.

His grip is firm. Possessive. Not aggressive, but unmistakably territorial.

You barely react, maintaining your poised expression for the cameras.

But he feels it.

The tension. The silent awareness between you.

The cameras go off. Click. Click. Click.

“Do you ever get used to this?” you ask, smiling for the cameras.

Homelander glances down at you, the hint of a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“No,” he murmurs through a fake smile. Honest. “You never fully get used to it.”

His grip tightens around your waist as he pulls you just a little closer, like he’s daring someone to try and pry you away.

Let the people talk.

—

Inside the theater, the seat assignments are already set. Your name is next to The Deep’s. Homelander takes one look at the card, then at Ashley.

“Oh, fuck no. Switch it.” His voice is quiet, controlled. That’s how she knows he’s not asking.

Ashley barely swallows down her exasperation, quickly adjusting the seating chart before she can even process why he’s acting like this.

“Of course, Homelander.”

The Deep sighs, slumping back into his chair. “Didn’t wanna sit next to you anyway, psycho bitch.” He mutters under his breath.

Before he can blink, your knee slams into his crotch.

His entire body seizes up as he wheezes like a deflated balloon.

Homelander? He just smirks. Watches with amusement as The Deep folds in on himself like a house of cards. Normally, he’d step in—but you? You handled it yourself.

“You’re making quite an impression,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with something almost affectionate. Pride, even.

But that pride shifts quickly to something else entirely.

—

The lights dim. The director makes his introductions, saying all the same predictable garbage.

Then—

“Homelander, would you like to say a few words?”

Homelander rises.

The room falls silent before he even reaches the podium. The weight of his presence alone is enough to demand the world’s attention.

“Thank you, thank you.” His voice carries effortlessly through the theater. Almost calculated.

“Tonight, we celebrate something much bigger than a movie. Bigger than entertainment. Bigger than Vought.”

The audience leans in.

His eyes scan the room—but they keep landing on you.

“You see, real power isn’t just about strength.” He tilts his head, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “It’s about legacy. It’s about stepping forward and shaping the world into something better, something stronger.”

The cameras pan to you.

You sit rigidly still, your smile frozen in place as you begin to understand exactly where this is going.

“We all remember what happened last year.” His tone darkens, the weight of his past lingering in the air. “We all saw the cracks, the division, the betrayal.”

The execs shift in their seats. No one dares to interrupt.

“But Vought was built on something greater, wasn’t it? Hope. Leadership. The right people for the job.”

And then, his gaze locks onto you.

“And that’s why we’re here tonight.”

Your stomach twists. What is this?

“This woman right here,” he steps down from the podium, each step slow, deliberate. “Is the future.”

“She’s what we need.” His voice grows stronger, more emphatic. “A fighter. A leader. Someone who will take us into the next era. And I, for one—” his hand extends toward you, palm up, demanding you take it— “will be standing right beside her.”

You have two choices.

Leave him hanging in front of the cameras.

Risk unleashing a beast.

Or, you take his hand.

And before you can even think—your fingers are already lacing into his.

His grip tightens instantly.

“This woman—” he lowers his voice, slow, intentional, drawing out every syllable, ”—is mine.”

The weight of the words crushes the air from your lungs.

The whispers start immediately.

A-Train leans over to Black Noir, whispering, “What the fuck is he talking about?”

Black Noir shrugs. “Bro, I don’t know. I can’t even see in this mask.”

“Stop talking,” A-Train hisses. “You don’t talk. Remember?”

Homelander ignores them all.

All he cares about is your face.

But your expression?

Not what he was expecting, to say the least.

He expected flushed cheeks.

Excitement.

Something akin to gratitude.

Instead—he sees the tears picking up in your eyes.

What the fuck?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice quiet, just for you.

You keep smiling, because, of course you do.

“Everyone is watching,” you murmur through clenched teeth. “Can you just—finish whatever the fuck this is?”

Homelander’s smile drops.

Annoyance flickers across his face, but beneath it?

Something else.

Something closer to uncertainty.

This was supposed to be a moment.

A declaration.

But instead…

You look trapped.

Just like everyone else.

He forces out a tight-lipped smile, stepping back toward the microphone.

“Right.” His tone is less certain now, like he’s recalibrating.

He speeds through the rest of his speech, still booming with confidence, still commanding the room, but there’s a sharp edge now.

Like he’s pissed off.

And he is. Because he expected more from you.

—

The second the movie ends, you stand up and walk. Not looking at him. Not hesitating. You’re not going to the after-party. You need to breathe.

Homelander watches you go. For a split second, he almost follows. But then, something inside him shifts.

He stands near the exit, his jaw clenched, hands buried in his pockets as he watches you disappear.

He lets you go—for now. But that doesn’t mean he wants to.

The rest of the night is nothing but fake people and fake bullshit. Forced smiles. Pointless conversations. Vultures.

“Where’s your little protégé, Homelander?”

“Did she run off already?”

“Should we expect a big announcement soon? She’s quite the media moment for you.”

He forces a laugh, the perfect picture of charm and amusement. But beneath the surface?

He’s imagining peeling their fucking skin off.

The way their voices would break in terror. The way their bodies would snap like twigs in his hands. The way their smug, condescending grins would disappear in a spray of red.

“Oh, you know how it is,” he chuckles smoothly, his eyes dark. “Young girls. So emotional. So fragile.”

They laugh along with him, oblivious to how close they are to death.

He hates them.

But mostly? He hates that you’re making him feel like a lovestruck fool.

—

You sit on your couch, curled up in your pajamas, flipping through channels without actually watching anything. You should feel relieved that he didn’t chase after you. That he respected your space. But you don’t. You feel unsettled. Like something is missing.

And as soon as you have that thought—

Tap.

Your breath catches.

Another tap, tap, tap against the glass door of your balcony.

You turn your head slowly, and there he is.

Standing outside your window.

Homelander, with his arms folded behind his back, staring right at you.

Your stomach tightens. He’s so still. Not knocking. Not speaking. Just watching you.

The moment stretches until, finally, you push yourself up and slide the door open.

“Did you really have to fly up here?” you mutter, turning on your heel. “We live in the same building.”

Homelander steps inside. His boots land heavily against the floor, his presence instantly filling the room.

“Would you have let me in if I knocked?” he counters, voice tinged with something unreadable.

You roll your eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t just force your way in. You have no problem not asking permission.”

Homelander tilts his head. Just slightly. The shift in his expression is immediate.

Something flickers in his eyes.

He takes a step forward.

And then another.

He closes in, until he’s standing right in front of you.

Any other person would be terrified. But you? You just cross your arms and stare up at him.

“What was today?” you demand, your voice sharp. “Did you treat me like you were interested just to give that speech and rack up points for your ratings? What a fucking coincidence—‘Homelander claims the young new member of The Seven.’ That’ll look great for the shareholders, huh?”

Homelander’s nostrils flare. “Is that what you think?” he scoffs, stepping even closer. “That this is all for ratings?”

His voice is cool, but you can feel the frustration coiling beneath it. “You think I’m just using you like some PR stunt?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Homelander’s jaw tightens. His muscles coil like he’s ready to snap. But then—he exhales sharply, shaking his head.

“You wanted to prove yourself, huh?” His voice is lower now, rougher. “You think I don’t take you seriously?”

He moves even closer, towering over you.

“I’m the reason you’re here.” His voice is like a growl, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Don’t forget that.”

You laugh. But it’s not a nice laugh.

It’s sharp. Cold. Mean.

“Yeah. A serious fuck is what you thought.”

And then—

You push him.

It’s not hard. It’s not violent.

But it’s deliberate.

And for a moment?

Homelander looks genuinely stunned.

Because no one does that.

No one dares.

You see the flicker of something dangerous in his face. Something unhinged.

But just as quickly—

His expression changes.

Dark amusement replaces his shock.

His eyes flash. He leans down, voice dropping to a low murmur.

“Watch yourself, sweetheart. You push me again? You’ll regret it.”

You roll your eyes, turning your back to him, completely unfazed.

He follows, sitting beside you. His posture still coiled, tense.

“You have a lot of nerve,” he mutters, voice tinged with irritation. “No one lays a hand on me.”

You don’t even look at him.

“And yet, you’re still here.” Your voice is calm. “Are you going to laser my head off, or what?”

Homelander stares. Something in his expression shifts.

“You really think I’d kill you?” His voice is softer now. “That I’d even hurt you?”

And that?

That throws you off.

Because he actually sounds—offended.

Like the very idea of hurting you is something that he’s never even considered. Huh.

You sigh. Exasperated. “You don’t even see what you did wrong, do you?”

His patience snaps. “Wrong?” He scoffs. “What did I do wrong?”

You lift your head, eyes locking onto his. “You took away my choice.”

Homelander stiffens.

You shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips.

“I like you, Homelander. I do.” Your voice is quieter now. “I had fun with you today.”

For a second—just a second—he softens.

But then—

“But why couldn’t you have given me some time?” You shake your head. “It’s literally been a fucking day. A day. Now I’ll never be taken seriously. I’ll always be your arm candy. And all I wanted to be was a hero.”

Homelander’s lips press into a thin line.

He doesn’t answer.

Because for once, he doesn’t know what to say.

You see it in his face—the conflict, the moment of hesitation. He doesn’t regret claiming you. But for the first time, he wonders if he should have waited. If it would have been different.

Your eyes glisten. Homelander notices immediately. And for the first time in a long, long time—he feels something strange.

Guilt.

He reaches for you—but you’re already moving, slipping away before he can touch you.

Heading for the kitchen. Putting space between you.

Homelander watches you go, jaw tightening. The way you dismiss him so easily—it grates on him. You won’t even give him the satisfaction of an argument, of a reaction. But he’s not letting you walk away from this.

He rises to his feet, his movements eerily smooth, controlled. He follows you, where you pause, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

He steps in behind you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him. His presence is suffocating, a force pressing down on you.

“You think you can just ignore this?” His voice is edged with tension. “That I’ll let it go?”

You turn, lifting yourself onto the counter so you can meet his gaze.

“I don’t even know what you want from me,” you say, exhaling sharply.

Homelander’s eyes darken, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He leans in, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you in. His breath brushes against your skin, his lips hovering just above yours.

“What I want is one thing,” he murmurs, voice thick with something dangerous. His nose grazes your neck, his fingers tightening against the counter. “What I need? That’s you.”

He presses closer, his body heat consuming you, his control fraying at the edges. You let out a soft, involuntary sound, and the shift in his demeanor is immediate—his grip tightens, his muscles flex, his breath stutters for just a moment. Then, he loses the last thread of restraint.

Homelander buries his face in your neck, dragging his lips over your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive curve. His hand snaps forward without thinking, gripping the countertops quartz edge—too hard. The stone cracks under his fingers, breaking apart like it was never meant to hold his strength.

His lips move against your ear, voice thick, raw. “There she is,” he murmurs. “I was waiting for her.”

His mouth trails along your jaw, reverent and possessive all at once.

“You knew the second you walked into the tower, didn’t you?” he whispers, his grip tightening. “You knew you were mine.” 

“I’m… I’m nervous…” you whisper, barely audible.

Homelander hears it anyway. Of course, he does. His eyes flicker, scanning your face, reading every microexpression, every unspoken thought. He can feel the way your breath hitches, how your pulse flutters beneath your skin.

But he’s not deterred. For once, he doesn’t mind restraint. Doesn’t mind the slow burn of patience, the thrill of coaxing you forward instead of taking what he wants, when he wants it.

He’s always been good at everything—faster, stronger, unstoppable. Maybe that’s why nothing has ever truly satisfied him.

But this? You? You make him want to work for it.

He presses closer, his body firm against yours, the cool countertop at your back, the heat of him in front of you. His hands skim the edge of the counter, caging you in without force.

“There’s no need to be nervous, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a mixture of control and indulgence. The promise of patience, but only for you.

He places a hand on your inner thigh, inching closer to the outside of your panties. Rubbing slow circles, teasing you.

“Already wet for me,” he says with pride. You moan, arching your back as you grab onto his strong shoulders.

“You like that, don’t you?” You nod your head and grab onto his neck, maintaining eye contact.

He knows you don’t like it. You love it. You tried to avoid his advances all day, tried to pretend you weren’t interested.

Tried to pretend you didn’t care.

But here you are, melting into him.

Giving him all of the power.

Just like he knew you would.

Without saying a word, your body language gives him permission to pull your panties to the side. He begins to rub your clit with his thumb, placing his mouth over yours just to taste the air you breathe out.

“Fu-fuck Homelander-I-I-”

“Yes baby? Say it.” 

“I love the way you-“ 

“You love the way I what, baby?” 

“The way you tou-touch me,” you moan. 

“Only I can touch you,” Homelander whispers, “If I find out anyone else has touched you, I’ll fucking kill them. Do you understand?”

“Ye-yes sir,” you answer with bated breath.

“Do you want daddy to put his fingers inside of you?” Homelander asks.

“Yes,” You say as your eyes roll back.

This is heaven for him.

Ecstasy.

Watching you let go.

Watching you let him take control of your body.

He moves his fingers to your mouth, gently placing two inside. This takes you by surprise.

You suck on his fingers, maintaining eye contact with him. You can tell he likes that.

He begins to explore your mouth, sliding his fingers around your cheeks.

It takes all of his strength to not slide his fingers down your throat just to watch you gag and choke for him.

He removes them before he has that thought again.

He places his hand back on your pussy, rubbing your clit faster.

��Now, what does my good girl need to say to daddy before he finger fucks her?” Homelander asks.

“Pl-please?”

“Good girl,” he says with praise, slowly putting one finger inside your tight entrance.

You let out a moan. Or a cry? He’s not sure, but the thought of you crying for him makes his cock throb. His finger pumps in and out of you, and he feels your walls clench around him. 

“Fuck, you are so tight. Is this hurting you?” He asks, with genuine concern.

“No,” you whisper, “it feels so good.”

He loves seeing you like this—completely unguarded, free.

No tension, no hesitation.

Just you, surrendering to the moment.

This is how he wants you always—at ease, trusting, his.

You begin to pick up the pace. Grinding harder against his hand, fucking yourself against his fingers. Your head knocks against the cabinet, splitting it clean in half from the sheer force—but neither of you react. It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is you, and the way he’s intent on giving, not taking. On worshiping every inch of you like you deserve.

“You can put in another finger,” you say, almost pleading.

He lets out a low laugh. “Oh, sweet girl,” he says, “one finger will barely fit. Let’s take it one step at a time,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

He begins to curl his finger inside of you, pumping it harder against your walls. He rubs your clit as he finger fucks you, never breaking eye contact. You start to close your eyes - he knows your close.

“No, don’t close your eyes. Look at me,” he demands.

You open your eyes. The feeling is overwhelming - you feel like you’re about to explode.

“That’s it, good girl. You’re such a good girl for daddy.”

“I think I’m going to cu-“

“You’re going to what?”

“I-I-I-“

“Say it now, or else I stop,” he demands, placing his freehand over your throat.

“I’m going to cum!”

“There you go. Cum for me sweetheart. You earned it. You’re so good for daddy, letting him stretch you out like this,” he whispers, encouraging you to completion.

You release, moaning and screaming his name.

The whole tower can surely hear this.

Homelander doesn’t give a fuck. Actually, he welcomes it.

Let them hear the noises you make for him and only him.

If they weren’t aware you were his, now they fucking know.

The wetness of your pussy, the sounds. The way your clit and your insides throb instantaneously is better than anything he’s ever felt in his whole entire fucked up life.

He lets your clit continue to pulse against his fingers, kissing you until you finish your orgasm.

You recover, feeling a bit exposed. A bit nervous, a bit embarrassed. But also really fucking good.

“Did you like that? Couldn’t really tell,” he teases, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he presses kisses along your neck. His arms stay locked around you, holding you close—like letting go isn’t an option, like you might disappear if he loosens his grip even a little.

“That was… amazing.” You whisper.

Normally, Homelander never gives without expecting something in return. If you were any other woman, you’d be on your knees getting skull fucked. He wouldn’t care if you came, hell, he wouldn’t even care if you were aroused. But this… this was different. You were different. For once, his own satisfaction didn’t matter—because in a way, it already had been.

Seeing you like this, knowing he could unravel you, knowing he could give instead of just take—it was enough.

After the way he hurt you, whether he fully understood why or not—he just wanted to make you feel good.

And that realization? That he could give a shit about someone?

That was terrifying.

And you were waiting for it—the inevitable moment when he would ask for more. When the generosity would come with a price.

Because men didn’t just give. Not without expecting something in return.

You knew all too well. Your mind rewinds like a VCR tape—taking you back to when you were 15 years old, passed out on a bed after drinking too much. The boys at the party put their dicks and their fingers and their tongues inside of you.

They didn’t care that you woke up with bruises.

They didn’t care that you couldn’t sit down without feeling pain on your private parts.

Men take until women have nothing else to give.

You snapped yourself out of your trance and waited for him to say “my turn”.

But he didn’t ask.

He just held you, kissed you, like it was enough.

Like you were enough.

And in that moment, you knew—you couldn’t lose this feeling. Or him.

Breaking the silence, you wrap your arms around his neck. “Can you stay with me tonight?”

Homelander’s expression shifts. The possessive fire in his eyes dims just enough to reveal something else—something softer, more uncertain. He watches you, sees the vulnerability in your face, the unspoken plea for comfort. And it stirs something inside him. A need he isn’t used to.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that surprises even him.

“Of course,” he murmurs, his voice quieter, less commanding. “I’ll stay.”

You share a slow, lingering kiss. Then, you pull back just enough to smirk.

“So… do you sleep in that ridiculous suit too?”

Homelander chuckles, shaking his head. The tension between you eases, just a little.

“No, sweetheart,” he says, amusement threading through his voice. “If I did, I’d probably overheat and drop dead in my sleep.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “I do have pajamas, though. You better not laugh.”

You kiss him again, pulling him toward the couch.

Settling in, you turn on Netflix, scrolling until you find some ridiculous reality show you know he’d never watch on his own. But tonight, he doesn’t complain.

It’s easy.

Normal.

You fall asleep like this, your head in his lap, his fingers lazily threading through your hair.

But he doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t want to.

He watches over you instead, his mind never fully quiet.

He knows the illusion won’t last, that the world outside is cruel and dangerous. He knows there are people who will try to hurt you just to get to him.

Maybe he should have hidden you away, kept you to himself. But it’s too late for that.

He’s always questioned his purpose. Always wondered why he was made.

It wasn’t for America.

It wasn’t to be their hero.

No.

The answer became clear the moment you walked into the tower.

He was made to love and protect you.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

[annieartist03-2]

Blood TW: Annie Facade in Yandere Simulator

[acosmicbee]

Uncontrollably regressing as soon as Annie gets her hands on me

I'm too weak and suggestible I'll simply turn into babbly and doe eyed mush the moment she starts cooing,,,,

"Aw, aren't you just the sweetest thing?" Annie cooed, gently holding you close. In the time since you'd been with her, your mattress in the corner of the basement had gotten a major upgrade. Now it had pretty fairy lights strung above it as well as soft sheets and pillows and some stuffed animals.

You'd been playing a game of your own while Annie streamed, so caught up you didn't realized she was done until she had kneeled down beside you. You'd looked up at her with wide eyes, your tablet falling out of your hands as she pulled you close to her.

"You were so good for me while I was streaming, staying quiet and playing your game. How about we go get you a snack, hm? We have your favorites." She asked, smiling when you nodded. As she led you upstairs all she could think was how cute you were. She hoped your moments together would never end.