#yandere music man

[yandere----fandoms8790]

Yandere!Music Man(FNAF:Security Breach)

I'M BACK BABY!

(At midnight)

"Running, running from your worst nightmare is difficult to do. Especially since I was in these stupid high-heeled boots. I had on a (F/C) dress with black leggings as well as my knee high-heeled combat boots that had buckles on them.

I was in Roxy Raceway running from him, Music Man, I don't know what's gotten into him, he never did this before.

'Dang it, this guy's hard to lose' I think to myself.

"(Y/N), where are you, Baby?" I hear a soothing, loving male voice cry out.

"Crap" I whisper under my breath as I run into a dead end.

I hear him coming and I quickly crouch behind some boxes and wait for him to pass.

About a minute later I hear heavy breathing and I look around but I see nothing, so I look up. There he was, above me. It didn't seem like he saw me just yet, so I stay crouched and I mosey my way over to the exit to Roxy Raceway and I bolt out the door and run for the exit.

"(Y/N)!" I hear Music Man shout.

I heard him running after me and I was about half-way to the exit and I manage to dive out the door of the exit-way. I look behind me only to see Music Man watching me with a creepy grin on his face.

"Oh (Y/N), we both know I'll get you in the end", Music Man says in an unhinged, matter-of-fact tone.

After that, he just ups and leaves, his stride was as if he knew something I didn't. I didn't like where this was going so I got up and ran to my motorcycle and drove away.

Ever since that night I've been more aware of my surroundings. Though he hasn't tried anything, yet; I'd rather be safe than sorry. Therefore, I lock my doors at night, as well as stay on low ground. Though something still doesn't sit right with me to this very day."

I say in the microphone as I then say,"Well, this is (Y/N) (L/N) signing out, log 12" I then turn off my microphone and turn around.

"Hello, Baby" I hear Music Man say, before everything goes black

[princess-fae]

Buy me coffee and tell me I’m pretty

Cashapp— @faithmeredeth

Insta — @faithmeredeth

[devotion-disorder]

Kuuya is so adorable. What music does he listen to? Curious.

this was actually answered before here! but here's a taste of something i feel like he'd listen to anyways:

[walkingc0rpsegirl]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆about me⋆˚ ｡⋆୨୧ ˚˚

🎀🩷🤍🐩🦢🕊️🌸🩰 🎀🩷🤍🐩🦢🕊️🌸🩰🩷

she/her

5’2 (157.48 cm) and 97lbs (43.9 kilos)

(for the person who asked)

musician/lover of all music

fueled by pure hatred, obsession and jealousy

diagnosed bpd, adhd, generalized anxiety disorder with slight sociopathic tendencies

poetry lover/writer

bisexual i think

dms open (to non-weirdos ofc)

my favorite things|music, occasionally stalking, finding out things about people i’m interested in.

top artists/bands right now

evanescence, faye webster, deftones, mitski, lana del rey, kate bush, blondie, ptv, nirvana, slipknot, steve lacy, the weekend, the neighborhood, chase atlantic, tv girl, olivia rodrigo, kendrick lamar, kanye west, brent faiyaz, mac demarco, ariana grande, cigarettes after sex, black sabbath, the beatles, boa, cults, tyler the creator, giveon, sabrina carpenter, hozier and that’s all for now

🎀🩷🤍🐩🦢🕊️🌸🩰 🎀🩷🤍🐩🦢🕊️🌸🩰

[triasticalwarlock]

Disappointed that there isn't much yandere musicaljuice

[ilovelyneysm07]

I don't know why, but I feel like a relationship with Vox would basically be "Meant to Be Yours" of Heathers: The Musical. Vox gives me JD vibes if you try to leave him. (I was listening to the Heathers soundtrack while drawing and it popped into my head. That's crazy)

[decayingjack]

knife prty

[yandereloveraw]

Yandere Mr. Compress/Sako Atsuhiro: You don't wanna see who I really am, so I'll be your perfect specimen.♡ Say the right things that you wanna hear and make sure the real me disappears~

Lyrics from Hat Trick by Jonathan Thulin

[gangrenados]

Christmas kids by roar gives me yandere!Dick vibes

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend

Male Yandere x Fem Reader He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

When you first saw him, he had his tongue down your boyfriend's throat.

It sure as hell would not have been the start of a friendship, except...

He was the one who ran after you when you stormed out of the club, mascara and eyeshadow running in silvery streaks down your cheeks.

He was the one who hugged you and apologised and said your boyfriend was a piece of shit for doing that to you.

He was the one who got you home safe, cleaned off your makeup and left aspirin on your bedside table.

In your half haze of alcohol and tears, you clung to him and nuzzled into his neck and told him you were so grateful, that he was such a nice guy.

It wouldn't have been the start to a friendship and maybe it shouldn't have been. But you called him the next morning.

You apologised for being such a mess, stuttering just a little at the deep gruffness of his morning voice. He laughed and told you not to worry about, that you should've seen what a fool he made of himself when his boyfriend cheated.

You weren't sure how, but a phone call turned into lunch together. Both of you just a little tipsy from bottomless mimosas, his arm tossed across the back of your chair as he sketched out the horror of his last situationship.

"So you're gay?"

You should have noticed it then - the way he narrowed his eyes just a little, the way he let his fingers graze your bare shoulder, the way he seemed to take just a second too long to answer.

"Yeah. I'm into guys."

That was the first lie he told you. Not entirely untrue. He was into guys.

He was just into girls too. And he was especially into you.

He could have been honest with you, he could have told the truth. But you were still reeling from your boyfriend's betrayal, too guarded and hurt to let another man into you life.

And he so desperately wanted to be a part of your life.

The next time you asked him to hang out, you were so at ease. You hugged him when you saw him, your tits squished against his chest. You held his hand and dragged him along behind you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and any idea of telling the truth crumbled.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend. Lord knows you needed one after such a nasty break up. But anyone who looked at you together could tell friendship was the last thing on his mind.

He took you to watch his favourite band performing live and hoisted you up on his shoulder for the encore, his hands inching further and further up your thighs.

He took you to his favourite club and bought you drink after drink until you danced with him, your arms thrown back around his neck and your ass grinding into his crotch. It was only the pulsing neon lights that kept you from seeing his hard on.

He invited you over for a movie night and pretended to lose the AC remote, just so he could share a blanket with you and keep his arm around your waist.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got. You were cute and clever and funny. You could yap together for hours about fashion and music and video games. You brought him little presents every time you came over - small packets of his favourite sweets, a new flavour of ice cream, his go-to Starbucks order.

Could you blame him for wanting you?

He started calling you his wifey, even in front of his friends. Would crack jokes about getting married if either of you couldn't find a guy by next year. And you went along with it. Ran your hands up his chest and fluttered your eyelashes at him and called him your strong, handsome fiancé - oblivious to the way it made his heart race.

When he walked in on you changing, he kept his face deadpan and told you red was definitely not your colour, even as you scrambled to cover up and spluttered at him to get out.

"Why? You aren't exactly my type babe."

Another lie. Not even remotely true this time.

And soon you got used to him walking in on you. Started asking him for fashion advice while you were in just your underwear and heels. Started asking him to tie your bikini tops and unzip your dresses. You didn't notice him always slipping away afterwards, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. You didn't notice the way his hair was always slightly messed up when he got back, his cheeks just a little flushed.

And if there were ever any warning bells - any subconscious instincts that told you he touched you too much, hugged you for too long - they were drowned out by his parade of boyfriends and flings. Why would he be into you when he could be dating a ripped surfer or hooking up with his personal trainer?

You never realised you were the reason his relationships were always so short lived. He couldn't fall for any of them the way he fell for you. They were all just quick fucks to get the frustration out of his system.

He could have continued just like that - fucking a new guy every weekend and getting brunch with you right after.

But then you went and met someone.

He froze when you told him, his smile a rictus, hand clenched so tight around his wine glass that he was lucky it didn't shatter.

He gritted his teeth and managed to choke out a congratulations. You beamed at him, flushed pretty with young love. You squeezed his hand and said it was only a matter of time before he found his love too.

He had to excuse himself after that. Had to splash cold water on his face and fight down the urge to scream. God, why was he so fucking stupid? He should have made a move on you ages ago, back when you first met. If you rejected him then, at least it wouldn't hurt as bad as it did now.

He somehow managed to make his way back to the table and smile at you like you hadn't just clawed his insides to shreds.

"So when can I meet the lucky guy?"

When you got up to wash your hands he slipped your phone out of your bag. He scrolled through your gallery, over analysing every pic of your new boyfriend. Cute, but you could do so much better. And he wasn't even that much taller than you. God, are you really gonna date this loser?

You kissed him on his cheek when he left and he spent the entire walk home rubbing the spot and thinking up ways to get rid of this new... disruption.

Later that afternoon you called him up and asked if he'd like to come to a bar with you and meet your new man. And just like that, the wild ideas in his head clicked into place.

"Sure wifey, I'd love to come."

He showed up late and spilled a drink down your dress before you even finished saying hello. And while you rushed off to try and get red wine out of satin, he scanned the bar for your new boyfriend.

And when he finally found the bastard, he turned on all his pretty boy charm. Bought him a drink and slung an arm across the back of his chair and pretended not to hear when he said he had a girlfriend. Managed to get the guy flushed and stuttering even after he claimed to not be into men.

When he pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fucker had the nerve to actually kiss him back.

He was careful with his timing - going in for a second kiss as soon as he saw the flash of your dress through the crowd.

He pulled away just as you reached the table and looked up at you with oblivious innocence.

"What's wrong baby? Why do you look so shocked?"

Your boyfriend shoved him off and stood up to grab you, to claim he didn't kiss someone else, the guy just came onto him swear to God. But the damage was already done.

Who would you believe was at fault? Your best friend who didn't even know what your new boyfriend looked like? Or the asshole kissing someone else while you were gone?

You threw your drink in your boyfriend's face and called him a filthy liar. When you grabbed your best friend's arm and dragged him away, he struggled to hide his smile.

He took you back to his apartment and popped open a bottle. Poured you a drink and kissed your forehead and let his hand settle on your lower back.

"Men ain't shit baby. We're all just manipulative assholes deep down."

He let you drown your sorrows in the bottle and then pulled you onto his lap when you were too drunk to object.

"I'm the only man you need in your life, yeah?"

You sniffled, too drunk and hurt and dizzy to notice his hands moving to your bare thighs.

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it. Say I'm the only man you need."

"You're the only man I need."

His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and he pressed his lips against your skin, teeth oh so close to your jugular.

"And I'll take care of you. So just sit still and I'll make it all better."

[princess-fae]

tell me how to love you

tell me how to hold you

I’mma get it right on the first try for you

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

21:47pm: his dirty secret

Warnings: 18+ mdni, panty stealing, panty sniffing, masturbation, dubcon, yandere themes

college student!sukuna is infamous around campus. every girls’ wet dream and every man’s competition. he just so happens to run in the same circle as you; close friends with a friend of a friend, you can’t help but see him everywhere. 

college student!sukuna is a huge guy, with hulking muscles, tattoos that peek from his torso, and bright pink hair. you could never miss him. no one could. not with his shit-eating grin or deep laugh that always makes you feel like he knows something no one else does. 

you and him are kind of friends. once in a while, when gojo says something stupid or toji inevitably picks a fight with some random guy, you find yourself sharing a knowing look with college student!sukuna , who flashes you a grin that sends shivers down your spine. 

college student!sukuna is touchy as hell. he brushes past you with a hand on your waist and a pat on your hip. he leans in close, breath warm against your cheek, as his lips graze your ears in a whisper, a snarky comment about how the guy you’re talking to has a small dick so don’t waste your time with that loser. 

and although college student!sukuna is known as a ladies’ man and there doesn’t seem to be a single girl on campus who hasn’t fucked him, you never actually see him with a broad. doesn’t bring a date to gojo’s party, not a single mention of his latest fuck when the guys are bragging, and he certainly doesn’t seem to notice the hoard of girls begging for his attention. 

no, college student!sukuna only has eyes on you. he watches the way you sway your hips to the shitty techno music, how your hair flips with every twist and turn, and sees the flutter of your eyes when you meet his gaze through the thick crowd of gyrating bodies. 

it’s only recently that you started to let yourself feel something for college student!sukuna . before that, you chalked up the lingering stares and heated sweeps down your body as alcohol induced lust. but now, you allow yourself to entertain the idea that the pink haired man might actually like you. 

college student!sukuna does. he doesn’t want to cave first; his ego can’t take the hit, is what he tells his dumbass best friend, toji. the real truth is that he doesn’t want to be rejected. not when you’re the only girl who laughs at his jokes and knows that he never means the cranky and sarcastic comments. 

especially not when you’re the girl he envisions every time he needs to cum. he wraps his big hand around his even bigger dick and strokes it to the pace he thinks you’ll use against him when he finally brings you to your knees. when he strokes his tip, thumb running across the slit, he thinks of your plump lips wrapping around his head, stretching to fit as much of him as you can. 

when he shudders through an orgasm, he imagines you sticking your tongue out as he spurts all over your face, the pearly white droplets painting your skin, and it has him groaning into his fist to keep quiet, lest you find out he’s snuck into your room when the whole gang had come over to celebrate your roommate/best friend, shoko’s, birthday. 

college student!sukuna doesn’t know what he’d do if you burst into your room and stumbled upon him with the hem of his shirt tucked between his teeth, jeans unzipped, one hand wrapped around his dick and the other holding your dirty panty to his nose. 

hell, maybe you’d like it. maybe it’ll make you soak the ones currently between your legs. perhaps you’re just as dirty as he is, just as deprived and desperate. but he’ll have to find out another day, because you’re all in the living room dimming the lights and setting the cake down. 

so college student!sukuna settles for the fantasy of you and he pockets the soiled fabric, and another from the laundry basket for good measure, saving the thrill for another lonely night wishing his fist was your pussy. 

[madamechrissy]

Losing focus every time you speak, girl

Pairings:- Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo is your plus one for the company Christmas Dinner, but he just DOES NOT like how your boss Sukuna looks at you. MDNI- smut- explicit semi public sex/play- Christmas PWP

A/N-I went to a company dinner and thought of this SMUT lmao, Gojo is possessive and a lil yandere- w.c. 1.2k

"I don't like how he's looking at you." Your boyfriend Satoru Gojo murmurs in your ear, as the Christmas music is playing in the fancy restaurant for your company's dinner. Satoru's wearing the sexiest pinstripe suit and black tie, and you're wearing a lacy little black dress as you stand along side the buffet table, sipping wine.

"You're so silly, looks at me how?" Your boss, Sukuna, smirks over at you, earning Satoru's grip even tighter against you. "Satoru..."

"One more smirk and I'm fucking you in front of your entire office." You gasp now, looking up at his bright blue eyes, as he tosses back the sweet moscato in one gulp.

"You're acting as if it's you ovulating. Swear." You tease, tugging at his tie now, he leans closer to you, barring you against the buffet table, you're getting so flushed, looking around, worried everyone can see. "Toru, baby..."

"Don't Toru baby me. I can smell how turned on you are, fuck." He practically inhales your neck, earning a smack on the shoulder.

"You can not, psycho. Wait till we get home-"

"Hello, my favorite employee." Mr. Sukuna comes up, grinning and raising his brows, ruby eyes glinting as you slip out from under your psycho boyfriend's hold.

"Mr. Sukuna, thank you so much for one year." You say with a smile, holding your hand out, but he pulls you in.

"No need to be so formal, now." He hugs you right in front of Satoru, his hands pressing against your back, and you don't see it, but he's smirking right at Satoru, as Satoru is scowling back. "And this is your boyfriend, huh?"

"Y-yes!" You clear your throat, stepping back to stare at your furious, handsome boyfriend, who's about to kill your boss now. You tug on his stiff arm. "Satoru Gojo, say hi."

"Hi." He speaks through his teeth, Sukuna chuckles.

"A man of few words. Well, do you care for a dance-"

"She's not feeling so great, think she needs some air."

"What now-ah!" Satoru's dragging you out of the banquet room, where some coworkers are dancing to jazzy music. "Just where are we going-"

Satoru has you in this stupidly fancy bathroom now, pressing you against the door, turning you and lifting up your skirt. You cry out softly as he starts kissing your neck, your shoulders, his teeth sinking into delicate skin. "You are mine, say it."

"Of course I'm yours... Satoru are you jealous!?" He scoffs, now your dress is up over your hips, the cool air of the bathroom breezing against overheated skin, you're wearing tights but he rips them, he fucking rips them.

"Not jealous, no, just need to fill my pretty girl up with me." He sinks two long fingers in your eager cunt, your head falls back against him, gasping now. "Fill you up so you're dripping my cum when he comes near you."

"Y-you- f-fuck!" You're whining now when Satoru turns you, pressing your back against the door now, your pretty black dress is shoved and scrunched as he kisses you, hot, messy and desperate. It's so insane you can't even get a breath, when your hands fumble with his belt of his slacks, watching his length spring out, already drooling with precum.

His eyes are so dilated they're damn near black, just a ring of blue, his fingers back to pumping and curling in your cunt, breath against your lips, sweet like wine. "Say you're mine baby."

"M'yours Toru- ah!" He picks you up like you're nothing now, you cling to his jacket, fingertips pressing against his shoulders, crying out weakly when his pink tip presses on your swollen little clit. "Here!? Are you crazy?!"

"Crazy for you, gonna knock you the fuck up here and now." You gasp when he sinks his full length inside your soppy pussy, you're drooling down his lenth as he slams your head against the heavy wooden door, stretching and filling you so good you can't fucking think.

"Mine, mine, mine." He mutters, his eyes fucking insane, lips parted, sinking deeper and deeper into you, until you're shattering, so close when his curved tip drags on your spot. "Gonna cum for me aren't you baby?"

You just nod, letting him fuck into you harder, his lips slam on yours, his big hands pressing into your hips, his lips do nothing to muffle the cries however. He's abusing your cervix, whispering nonsense, psychotic, needy, insane nonsense, that just makes you that much closer.

"Gonna cum f'me, huh baby?" You whine, and he chuckles, breath against your ear as he fucks you deeper and harder. "That's it, lemme feel you, you can do it."

You cover your mouth with a hand, screaming out, head whacking the door so hard it hurts, but the orgasm rocking your body eliminates it all. You're pulsing aroung Satoru's veiny cock, and he groans now, biting your neck again, a hand slipping up to your breast, squishing it in his huge grip as he starts pumping hot cum in you.

"Fill you s'fuckin... full you..." He whimpers in your ear as his hot sticky white cum coats your walls, you're trembling, sweaty and fucking destroyed as it brings you again, now he keeps pumping, the squishing lewd and insane in the big fancy bathroom. "Oh my god... baby..."

"You're fucking crazy, I swear I c-can't bring you anywhere." You huff now, as he eases you down, cupping your face gently like he didn't just rip your tights and fuck you on a bathroom door.

"I'm sorry baby I lost it." He pouts now all cute, blinking snowy lashes at you. "You're too sexy I'm sorry."

You sigh now, adjusting your dress, feeling his cum drip down your thighs as you do. "You have nothing to worry about, I love you, crazy ass."

"Promise?" He pouts more, puppy dog eyes melting you.

"I promise. I only want you." He moans, kissing you softly, again and again as he calms, stroking your back gently. "Can you behave for the rest of the party?"

Satoru nods, but he's eyeing the bruise he just gave your neck, the little bit of wrinkle to your dress, your kissed off red lips, smirking now. You head back to the dinner, and when Sukuna talks to you again, Satoru knows that his cum is dripping from your bare cunt, with nothing to stop it from sticking to your thighs, giving him much more comfort.

You look at him with a curious little smile, your perfect hair is just a little messy, he brushes it back when he sits down for dinner with you, and another co worker, Nanami is eyeing you, smiling. Satoru decides to push his cum back in your pussy right under the thick white table cloth, enjoying how you struggle to maintain normal small talk, while you're drooling down his fingertips.

"Satoru I will never take you anywhere again." You hiss in his ear as you all walk out that night, waiting on the Valet to get Satoru's car, you're wearing his suit jacket and trembling in the chilled night, cunt throbbing.

"Merry Christmas?" He teases, a giant grin, but you're scowling, he will have to fix that tonight.

Lmao I would be concocting Satoru smut at my company dinner 😭

[allurilove]

Teenager Yandere Husband x teenager you

“What would happen if you went to the same school as him?”

Rated 16 + — regular ol’ short content !

Teen!Yandere Husband had a major scene phase starting sophomore year. It was his way of saying ‘fuck you’ to his old man, and he started to grow as his own person. He was finally able to express himself in a way his father tried to repress. His father was interested in fashion, creating multiple pieces and clothing that had made it to the runways, but he made sure teen!yandere husband looked proper. Not dressing him in the eccentric and world stopping outfits his father was known for, but the cookie cutter boy you see in those movies about snobby rich people. His dad thought his new bright hair was hideous, and when he started to cut up holes in his jeans— he got a whooping that night. That didn’t stop teen!yandere husband, it only fueled him to go all out. He had black eyeliner on his waterline, multiple rhinestone belts on his hips, and wore long striped socks with his boots. He donated all of his old polo shirts, cream white sweaters, and traded his name brand shoes for a pair of converses.

Teen!Yandere Husband enjoyed listening to My Chemical Romance, 3OH!3, and Get Scared. He had all of their latest music downloaded onto his mp3 player, and he listened to it with his girlfriend at the time. They both shared an earbud, and his arm was around her shoulders. She was just the type of girl he liked: she had those skunk extensions in her hair, long eyelashes, fishnets on her arms, and she smelled like a record store (idk if that’s a compliment). But alas, all mildly good things came to an end when he was broken up with. She wanted an alternative man by her side, and he wasn’t enough for her.

Teen!Yandere Husband started to grow out his hair junior year. He had to constantly brush his bangs out of his face, blowing at the strands whenever they poked at his eyes. He was this tall six foot two guy, bumping into people in the hallways with his wide shoulders. And he had an attitude. He didn’t apologize, just grunting out a ‘watch it’ before he stomped his way to his class. Teen!yandere husband also picked fights with anyone that tried to comment on his appearance. He knew how to throw a mean punch, and he learned it all from his great aunt. Breaking peoples noses and fingers were easier than he thought, and getting away with it was just as sweet than the thrill he felt. His father made constant excuses for teen!yandere husband, saying that it was just a phase and he was just a boy, and if that didn’t work… well a gracious donation would be sent to the school.

Teen!Yandere Husband got his dick pierced the summer before senior year. It was a risky move, his father was already on the brink of snapping at him and kicking him to the curb. But, thankfully his aunt was cool about it, and signed the paperwork. While he was at it, he got his ears and belly button done too.

Teen!Yandere Husband noticed you around senior year. He was cleaning up his ‘bad boy’ act, trying to get on people’s good side before the year ended. While he was on his apology tour, he saw you sitting at the library alone. He doesn’t remember if he had done anything horrible to you, and if he did, he would absolutely beat himself up for it. He was about to approach you, but then he suddenly remembered his appearance, and was self conscious about the way he looked. Who would love to be with a mess of a man like him? Surely, you already had people lining up to be with you.

Teen!Yandere Husband made his first move by asking you to sign his yearbook. You had made him nervous. Just your presence alone was making him sweat. He held brief eye contact with you when he asked, leaning against the white bricked wall with a blush to his cheeks. His voice soft and yet baritone, and he held up the yearbook for you to write your name in.

“Ah yeah… I think we had like one class together? With that really grumpy man that’s about to retire soon.”

You smiled, a little snort coming from you. He watched you add a little heart into your name. “You’re gonna have to be specific. That’s like half the teachers here.”

“You know,” he was totally talking out of his ass, “the teach that shakes his fist whenever he sees teens running down the halls.”

“Really? That’s odd. I never had a male teacher.”

“W-What? Oh-“ he gulped, adverting his eyes towards the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and he awkwardly shifted between his weight. “Maybe I’m misremembering things.”

“If we took a class together… I definitely would have remembered.”

That left him speechless. Did you mean that in a good way?

“You’re sort of hard to forget… you kind of look like Sam Monroe from Life as a House.” you bit your lip, and your eyes took in the sight of his dark but colorful clothing. He had this scent that made him smell like fresh rain and wood.

He hadn’t seen that movie, but he was gonna guess on a whim that might’ve been your way of saying he’s … cute?

Teen!Yandere Husband got your number and followed you around all summer. He was actually shy when he got to hang out with you outside of school. Hours before he met you, he walked back and forth in front of his mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk before the hangout. He wasn’t this nervous before, and he started to fret about his appearance. He had put on his best jeans, clean shoes, and the classic sort of fancy tee. He picked you up in his red corvette, playing music from the radio incase you didn’t like what he usually listened to. He was determined to make this “hang out that’s totally not a date” perfect.

Teen!Yandere Husband casually paid for your things, and opened all the doors for you. He totally thought he was winning in the ‘gentleman’ department. He gave you compliments that teetered between the lines of flirtation, and just being friendly. He actively listened to whatever you had told him, making mental notes to bring them up in later conversations. That seemed to make you happy. You two had stopped by a carnival he coincidentally had tickets for. He tried his hardest to help you at any game, and he was pretty good at throwing darts. He happily smiled for whatever photo booth you brought him into, not once complaining when you wanted to use props.

Teen!Yandere Husband had genuinely smiled whenever he was around you. You just made life better. You were his little comedian, his best friend that’ll he never forget.

Full fics: these fics are an aged up version of yandere husband obvs, and it contains smut.

#1 #2 #3 #4 (coming soon)

Allure: this would be soo him if he were to text reader.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. ��How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov