Palestine Will Be Free.🇵🇸

I love this so much

. ᭢ 🦢 Yandere! College Frat Boy

a//n :: first post on this blog heh. might or might not be projecting my type of guy. feel free to suggest / req yanderes or him!! I really want to write more about him. He is a soft yandere, so like.... sorry if you expected more LMAO. There might be some grammar mistakes, sorry for that!

minors dni !!1!!!

wrns // tws :: rumors, stalking. light yandere behavior.

word count :: 1.8k words

g/n reader x frat boy ( Kaelum Bianchi)

— The university you had just enrolled in was quite a prestigious one, with multiple connections already established to said college. Many doctors, politicians, and those high in the social ladder have their daughters and sons put through here, be it through bribing or the extremely harsh exams.

— You had taken the latter, and the professors gave you a schedule that seemed pretty normal. All pretty mundane classes throughout the day depending on your electives and course.

— In one of your mandatory classes was Kaelum Bianchi, one of the boys that partied till no end in the weekends yet passed with stellar grades. With slightly curly golden hair, an almost sunshine grin, and a wonderful figure. He was obviously a social butterfly, always chatting and yapping to the professors of whatnot and students even more. You were quite suspicious of him. Did he somehow seduce the teachers, or was he just a genius? You couldn't lie, your interest was piqued.

— From his end, you were already someone he had taken note of from the start. Yes, he was popular. Everyday he had some random girl compliment him and confess to him, (he admits it felt nice being praised and 'loved' by random girls and boys he could care less of, though he does reject them) he couldn't quite understand why you were somehow a little bizarre. You were attractive, sure. Extremely, even. He couldn't count how many times he bit his lip trying to look away and control himself. You clicked the pen absentmindedly whenever you understood the lesson too well, or were simply bored, You made eye contact with him at one point, and merely smiled. Yeah, you were odd.(you weren't, he just wasn't used to people not liking him at the beginning) There was an air around you, and at one point, a few weeks after you had first enrolled, he had enough of simply looking from afar, and made a move. You studied well, and while he knew you didn't have any connections. he'll just change that.

— You sat near the exit of the class, as usual, when suddenly an ashamedly charismatic man decides to make the empty seat next to yours his now. You didn't have much friends, and when he makes slightly fulfilling small talk between classes— not too much, and he pipes down whenever you take notes—, you couldn't help but laugh at his remarks. You missed the way his eyes turned smitten at your lips curling upwards, and the way he grips the wooden table as if resisting temptation to lean in. At the end of the class, you had most of his friends' socials and his, and he asks you to come to one of his major halloween parties at his place. There were some colleges that only allowed in campus-dormitories, but since the demographic of the students were all practically rich kids with their own homes and apartments, they let that tradition diminish.

— You agreed, and he grins, nodding before watching you head out. That night, he stalked all your socials, quickly finding out what your hobbies were, what your music taste was, who you were online essentially. Multiple of his friends questioned him when he had texted you with compliments, wondering if this was a fling or a crush. They were a little confused, but mostly supportive, especially with the way he talked with them about you 90% of the time ever since that night. They agreed to be his wingmen and help you with anything if they saw you. He was extremely popular throughout the entire campus, and if word came out that he suddenly didn't like you? No one liked you either.

— You continued to hang out with Kaelum and talk. During class, at the restaurants and mall nearby, the parks, even near your own apartment by random. That last one was a bit creepy. Yeah, he lived 30 minutes away from your house and in the opposite direction of school, so him simply being on a walk was a little too weird of an excuse. But he was one of your closest friends, hell, you stayed in his house more than your own. And you had to admit, you had a little bit of a crush on him, so you quickly brushed it off. I mean, he would never stalk you, right?

— More time passes before the party, and he suddenly gives you an array of gifts. It ranged from cute gag gifts, heartfelt ones, to randomly luxurious ones. There was a time where he gave you a permanent bracelet that cost in the hundreds of thousands. "Give it to someone you truly love." His mother had mumbled when she gave it to him, and he took it to heart. When he gave it to you, that same pressure didn't really apply. When you looked at the delicately adorned jewelry, he simply stated. "If you don't want it, I'll just get you something else, okay?" While he was sentimental, he didn't except you to be the same. He would still love you nonetheless. Of course, you were grateful and ruffled his hair in gratitude. He smiled, 'jokingly' kissing your hand in return.

— Many things and activities that seemed like what only couples did, felt casual between the both of you. He knew how to lighten the mood, and to weave through the boundary of just friends to something more. After a while, he couldn't bear hearing you call him just a comrade. He could hear and feel the "ooh....damn." and pitiful glances of his brothers at the frat whenever he got bro-zoned. For the second time, he decided on making his move.

— It was Friday night, the day of the party, and Kaelum swore he was about to pounce on you. He could feel his own self control breaking down simply looking at you. The metallic taste of blood inked in his mouth from biting his cheek too hard. He smiles, complimenting your outfit and leaning in closer to you than normal. The house was extremely big, with many rooms and blaring music and lights. There were 3 floors, filled with random people, presumably his friends. His sole focus was on you though, and as both of you danced late at night. At one point, when the lights flashed off for just a second, he suddenly kissed you. It was brief, and if you didn't feel his hand hold your chin so gently, you wouldn't believe it was real.

— Shocked was all you felt. Practically the king of all social gatherings in one of the most influential schools in the country? Kissing a little nobody like you? Yeah, right. He was probably just doing a bet. And with the way three new frat members were laughing, it basically confirmed it. You began to run away from the party, dumbfounded and face red. You couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the kiss, though. You could hear Kaelum running after you, and you felt embarrassed.

— He, on his end, felt heartbroken, and most of all, hurt. Did you not like him the way he liked you? The countless nights after parties he thought about you, wanting to feel you. He wasn't a player, and even less so when you came into his life. Was it something he did? Something he lacked? He could give you anything you needed in your life. He was the epitome of generational rich, a nepo baby essentially. Just give him the word, and he'd give it all to you. Or was it because you had someone else in mind?

You were ashamed and were fighting the urge to cry as you made your way to the backdoor of the mansion. It was an area that a lot of people did not know even existed, but Kaelum showed it to you on one of those nights you stayed at his place. Damn him, you thought. Even if you felt betrayed, you still loved the guy. You were about 4 steps out before a voice stops you in your tracks. "Do you like someone else?" Kaelum caught up to you frankly quickly, with his long frame and sporty background. You looked back at him, and you felt his hand grip your shoulder tightly. You rolled your eyes. "I'm not one of your side links, Kaelum. Stop following me." You could see the way his brows furrowed, his eyes blinking in confusion. He steps closer.

"I never said you were my side?- Who said that? Was it one of my friends?...No, they aren't that stupid to piss me off. No, I got it. It must be those three new little shits I saw earlier. Oh my god, I'll fucking kill them-"

Don't. You did this for a dare right? Kissing me?" The second you said that, he looked offended, like a puppy that got kicked in the rain. A slight pout was on his lips, and he leaned down, almost in a submissive manner.

"No. No, what? What are you on-... sigh, sorry. Didn't mean saying that. I would never do that, especially not to you. I'd rather kill myself than do anything that could hurt you. I look for you in every class, and in every corner of our college. I need you, ___. In a way that I don't think is healthy." At this point, you were already in his embrace. It felt suffocating, almost. "So please, don't leave." You couldn't dare to reply. Part of you was happy, but another part of you felt like if you did leave him, he would've ruined you.

— You stayed there, outside near the back entrance of his house the he only showed to you. In an embrace only just a little bit too tight and reliant, with a boy completely obsessed with you.

— He ends the party earlier than usual, time being 1am, and for the rest of the night, you stayed in his bedroom, having had a cold shower, watching movies with a seemingly infinite supply of food and drinks provided by one of the family's in-house maids. He popped in from time to time, checking in on you and talking casually. Only thing that changed was now his eagerness to touch you.

— Outside, while saying goodbye to the partygoers, Kaelum spreads rumors about the three new frat boys. It was scary, how fast he had changed personalities. Horrible words of gossip spread quickly through each and every college group, and even the most lonely people knew of the "crimes" those three had committed. By the next day, no one wanted to be acquainted with them, and the majority of those in your classes outwardly became friendly to you, seeing you as an innocent victim to their 'harassment.' You only glared at Kaelum, to which he responds with a whistle and shrug.

all rights reserved to maisiesgrove !!1! please repost/like if you would like to support <33

creds to reve on tumblr for lace header

creds to zuolirio on Pinterest for 2nd header.

Good idea.

Targaryens with Snow White! Reader

A/N: This story will be inclusive! (No description for looks, also gender neutral) I'll only be taking a few of the story elements from Snow White. If y'all like the disney princess inspired stories, please let me know so I'll make another one with other families in HOTD or GOT.

Also this story will include Jace x reader! For all of you Jace simps out there 💕

You came from a reputable house, known for their beauty and kindness. Although not powerful, many men and ladies would always jump at the chance of marrying people from your house.

‌Your mother sadly died after childbirth, making your father sad and not as attentive as he should be when taking care of you. Only being there when he is strong enough to look at you, afraid that he'll be sad again as you only reminded him of his one true love.

‌Yet after many years, your father decided to marry his new wife a few days after you just turned six. A woman who cared and acted kind to you, yet it was all just an act. After marrying her, your new mother (or step-mother) would only treat you badly. Making you do chores, wearing rags; all without your father knowing as he slowly turned sick. You were grateful enough that the servants are kind to you, taking care of you when needed.

‌Whispers from the servants told you that your step-mother is scared of your beauty rivaling her, believing that you'll use it against her for your own purposes. You also heard about how your father sickness was partially because your step-mother poisoning him daily with small amounts of poison. You sadly couldn't visit him, always being told by your step-mother that he's to sick or he's meeting with the maesters. But you were too young too notice that it was all lies.

‌After you've heard this rumours, you were treated more harshly. Your step-mother once got physical with you after she found out you were slacking off, playing with the servants. One of the servants who cared for you since birth, took pity on you as you cried to her about not wanting to live here anymore. With the help of the other servants, she decided to send you to Kings Landing to her sisters care. Believing that even though you'll work as a servant, you'll be treated more nicely there.

‌When you arrived, the sister introduced herself as Dayana. She told you to act as if you're her child, playing the role so you could be excused to live in the Red Keep. Fortunately for you, the servants were all kind, only making you do light tasks.

‌In return, you had a lot of free time. Making your way through the gardens, whispering to birds about your secrets to them; anything to make your boredom gone.

‌But luck seemed to be on your side when you encountered the young prince Jacaerys, taking a short break after practicing. He saw you kneeling, a bird on your hand as you whispered to it before softly laughing. Jacaerys frowned before making his way towards you, tapping your shoulder before asking what you were doing.

‌You didn't even look at him in the eyes before replying, "It was telling me about a funny story that they've seen before coming here. It's quite bizarre though." Jace tilted his head in confusion, before sitting next to you. "You can speak to...animals?"

‌"Not all the time, sometimes they don't talk. Sometimes they do. It's just a matter if the animals like you or not," You replied, brushing the bird one final time before it flew away to the sky. Jace hummed, not believing it. But he coughed nervously when you looked at him, only noticing your beauty just now.

‌You both talked with each other about your likes and dislikes, Jace even talked about how he bonded with his dragon, Vermax. You gasped excitedly when you heard about it. "I've never seen a dragon before! Well, not up- close. But I've heard they're very majestic although dangerous."

‌Noticing your excitement about dragons, Jace would propose that you two would meet at certain times to talk about it in the garden. You were odd, claiming you could talk to animals. But Jace found you endearing and beautiful, so it didn't really bother him

‌Soon the both of you will meet every once in a while to talk about things, it doesn't have to be dragons; sometimes Jace would let you ramble on and on about the talks you had with certain animals. He thinks about how you're weird like Helaena, but she didn't claim to be able to talk with the bugs she likes. But he didn't judge you, he just kept listening and maybe add in some comments here and there.

‌Rhaenyra will notice how Jace would be gone as quickly as possible after his lessons are finished. Luke will notice it as well, whining about how his brother wouldn't play with him anymore and only play with the servant girl. Rhaenyra would be interested about this servant girl, thus making her secretly follow Jace to one of your garden meet ups.

‌She noticed how Jace would sit close to you, explaining about the sword trainings and maybe rant about how annoying Aegon was. And you would just sit there listening to him, smiling and nodding. Rhaenyra would approach you after Jace left, making you stutter in nervousness as you bowed to the princess. She tilted her head as she saw your beauty underneath the dirt and rags, maybe a hint of recognition as she remembered hearing of a well known house declaring the missing daughter of said lord.

‌Rhaenyra would calmly ask your informations, subtly asking for it instead of being forceful. You would answer them honestly, yet you would make mistakes here and there about your true identity. You hoped the princess would not notice it, but she did. She covered her smile as she tried to move on past the interesting information she just received.

‌Rhaenyra would see why Jace would be close to you. You were kind and beautiful although you're meek and shy at times. She would develop a strong sense of wanting to protect you after a few meetings, always asking you about how you're doing.

‌This development would certainly not go unnoticed by Daemon, who would act confused as to why his wife and son would be so smitten with a servant girl like you. He decided to approach you, talking to you for a short while before deciding that you were just uninteresting for him.

‌But his interest became piqued once again after he heard Jace talking to Baela about how you could talk to animals. Daemon would approach him, asking if he believes that you could talk to animals. Jace would be hesitant before replying, "At first I didn't believe her. But after many times we met in the garden, her stories are quite accurate about the things that have happened here. It's too detailed for it to be lies, father."

‌Daemon would hum and think for a while, before wanting to test your skills. It's not a common occurrence for someone to be able to talk with animals, let alone a dragon. Dragon riders would only be bonded yet Daemon knew they couldn't fully control the dragons too, so if you are the real deal; then you could be a great help for them.

‌Daemon would instruct Jace to invite you to the Dragonpit, wanting to see how you would talk to the dragons. Jace would not agree with him stating that you've never met dragons, let alone you'd be brave enough to talk with them. But Daemon insisted that you'll be safe because he will be there, watching everything so that you'll be safe (and maybe for his own reasons as well).

‌Of course you would terrified beyond belief! Jace invited you into the Dragonpit was shocking, especially when Jace told you Daemon of all people was the one who requested you. Standing besides him as Jace called Vermax, Daemon placed his hand on your shoulder. "Don't be afraid, little one. Vermax is a bonded dragon, it will listen to Jace if anything wrong will happen at any time." You nodded at him, trying to steel your nerves as Jace leads Vermax in front of you.

‌You sighed deeply before looking Vermax in its eyes. You tilted your head, Vermax following your lead. You crouched down in front of him slowly pulling your hand in front of him. Jace held his breath as Daemon narrowed his eyes at you. Vermax growls slightly before calming down, nudging his head against your hand.

‌Daemon was shocked when you turned to him and Jace. "He's angry, he's already kept inside here for too long. He said Jace is ignoring him for his studies and lessons."

‌Daemon softly laughs at you, "And how can we believe that, little one? Maybe you're just lying to us right now." You pouted before shaking your head. "My lord, you've noticed how restless Vermax has been in here. You've tried everything but he always lost his control, am I right? You thought he was hungry but he's not. And even though Jace always visits him here, he doesn't take him out for a ride."

‌Safe to say Daemon was impressed and interested in you after that. Jace would be shocked yet proud, telling his mother about how you proved Daemon wrong with your so called power. Rhaenyra would be furious at Daemon for letting you, a child, inside the Dragonpit just so he could see your power. But after some convincing from him, Rhaenyra would agree that you would be an asset to her family.

‌Soon you would spend time with all of the family members. Although you did still stay with Dayana from time to time, most of the time you stayed with Rhaenyra in her chambers. Deep down she longs for a daughter, and maybe luck did gave her a blessing in the form of you. You would always accompany her, asking questions about certain topics; and in return she'll see how you communicate with animals.

‌Rhaenyra would definitely tell you to her father, Viserys. And although he's bedridden in his room, he'll be interested. Wanting to meet you as Rhaenyra soon grew closer to you. In the end, you did met the king, Viserys now understanding why Rhaenyra and the rest of her family took a liking to you. Although Rhaenyra is happy that you met her father, she's hesitant on bringing you back again if Alicent is there. She didn't want you to be noticed by Alicent, so she decided to only bring you to Viserys a few times when Alicent was not around.

‌As years go by, you grew closer to all of them. Jace would still take his time off lessons and training to be with you. You became a sister figure for Luke and Joffrey, playing with them when they want to. Even Daemon would grew closer to you, although he'll act nonchalantly and not as frontal as the rest of the family. They will try to protect and shield you away from the Greens, claiming to never trust them ever.

‌Daemon will insist on having you bond with the dragons if it meant you could help them at any time (maybe even spending some alone time to bond together, only between the two of you). You helped the dragon keepers if certain dragons are acting up, calmly explaining to them what the dragons need. You always help all of the dragons, but Vermax still holds a special place in your heart; being the first dragon you've ever met.

‌One day, you claim to be a little sad after one of your bird friends told you about how the servants and guards talked bad about you, claiming that you bewitched the royal family into treating you like their own. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be furious yet stayed calm so they could catch whoever made the rumours up. Jace would be too, but he chose to stay with you; comforting you with kind words as he held you close to him. Luke and Joffrey would try to ease your sadness away, bickering and joking around to make you forget about it. You don't comment on how the mean servants and guards are slowly disappearing and replaced by new ones. Dayana reassures you that everything is normal.

‌On the other hand, your step-mother grew restless and angry when she heard about you in Kings Landing, with the royal family nonetheless. She was already happy with the thought of you gone, reinstating her as the most powerful person in the house after your father died. She already has a son, she didn't want you to come back and accuse her of mistreating you badly in the past. She already got rid of the pesky servants that liked you, she didn't want to have more problems.

‌So she made plans for you to be gone. It took a few years, wanting everything to be perfect. At first she wanted to hire an assassin to kill you but she threw that idea away when her spy in Kings Landing told her about how you always spent time with the family. Your step-mother was annoyed at how none of the plans seemed to be working. But in the end she found one plan that seemed to be perfect. It could kill you instantly and quietly, plus there's no way people will suspect her for the act. With the help of a witch, your step-mother consulted her with her plans.

‌As for you, you're not just a child anymore. You became well known for your beauty and kindness. Although your work in the castle has been nonexistent ever since you grew closer to Rhaenyra's family; you sometimes still met up with Dayana to spend time together.

‌Other than Rhaenyra's family, you only grew closer to Halaena. You bond with her because of the love the both of you had with animals. But her family and Rhaenyra's family have grew distant after what happened with Aemond. Thus you only met her only for a few times before spending the rest of your time with the Blacks.

‌Over the years the family grew more possessive towards you. You're basically adopted by them. Spending time with the family basically means you could get hurt, so Rhaenyra will always keep guards with you at all times. Daemon wanted to train you just so you could at least have a basic knowledge on self defense, but Jace claims that it will never happen. You don't need self defense because you're already safe with the family, the dragons are already protective towards you, plus people speak highly of your kindness. There is no one who will harm you.

‌Unknown to the family, your step-mother has finalized her plans for you. With the help of the witch, they created a poisonous apple, able to blend in with the other fruits inside the castle. Your step-mother whoever is still confused as to how the apple would only be eaten by you, but her worries are vanished when the witch decided that she herself could bring the apple to you. Your step-mother didn't care about how much she had to increase the pay, as long as you're gone forever then she'll be happy.

‌Soon the witch arrived in Kings Landing, disguising as a new servant as she works around; spying on you. She noticed how you're not always alone, people will accompany you everywhere you go. More so the prince, who always clings to your side whenever he got the chance. But the witch noticed how at night you'll always slip away from your chamber, going to the kitchen to grab a small snack. It'll be the perfect plan for her.

‌As Jace walks you to your room, he couldn't help but feel...off about today. Something about being watched by someone yet he couldn't find anyone. You asked Jace what's wrong, noting how he's always frowning as if deep in thought. "It's nothing, my love. Just felt it's wrong to leave you behind today. Something has been bothering me," Jace sighed.

‌"[Name]," Jace called you softly as he grabs both of your hands in his. "Whatever you do, do not go outside tonight. I've had the feeling that we're being watched but I'm hesitant if it's only my paranoia. But I'll talk to my mother, see if she also noticed something strange."

‌You nodded and agreed, ignoring the heat rising on your ears as Jace kissed your forehead before hugging you. You slipped inside as Jace walks away, sighing deeply before apologizing inside your heart to Jace. You waited for a while before slipping away to the kitchen, deciding to only grab a few snacks before coming back.

‌You thought you'll be alone, but you noticed a servant peeling some apples. Maybe for tomorrow? You've never seen a servant working this late but you decided to ignore it and instead searched for food.

‌"I'm sorry, my lady. But we've run out of our food," The servant answered when you asked her. You pouted, stomach grumbling loudly as you excused yourself from the kitchen. "Wait, my lady! If you want, you could have this apples. It might not full you, but at least you'll have something in your stomach," The servant smiled as she grabbed an apple from the rest. "Here, try it. It's very delicious."

‌You thought you heard her voice changed but ignored it when the apple was shoved in your hands. It did look delicious and you're hungry, so you took a bite. You hummed at the taste, wanting to take another bite. But your head grew dizzy, your vision getting blurry. You tried to grab onto the servant but it's as if she disappeared from the kitchen. You couldn't stay awake, falling to the ground as the apple rolled away. The witch smiled as her planned work, disappearing to the dark; leaving only you in the kitchen.

‌When a servant girl found you lying on the ground, she panicked and called the guards to alert the family. Daemon would be the first one to arrive, heart clenching at the sight of you lying there lifeless. He ordered the guards to bring you into your room as he noticed the rest of the family arriving. Rhaenyra would cry at the sight of you, following you as she holds your hand in hers. Daemon would hold Jace back, knowing how angry and confused the boy is at the gruesome sight. Luke will cry but helps Daemon at calming Jace down before he goes to see you, not wanting his brother losing his temper once again.

‌The maesters did everything they could do, but nothing worked. They told the family that you didn't die. You're still living yet unresponsive. Daemon would yell at them for not trying their best, Rhaenyra would shakily asked if there's any cure for you.

‌But after a few days, it seems the maesters have given up, telling the family that they don't have a clue what's going on. Jace would be livid, already staying by your side since you collapsed. He yelled at them for their incompetence, threatening that he'll kill them. Daemon would try to calm him down, Rhaenyra dismissing the maesters as to not cause more casualties.

‌The family would be devastated. Rhaenyra would visit you with Joffrey, talking to you about her day. Luke will sometimes join her but he couldn't stay too long. He couldn't stand seeing you in this state, wanting you awake again to play and joke around with him. Daemon would be too busy finding the culprit, interrogating people before killing them if they're no use to him. No use to you.

‌Jace would look calm on the outside, but on the inside he'll be devastated. Like Rhaenyra he will stay besides you for long periods of time. Brushing your hair as he talks about his day, talking about how Vermax missed your daily visits. If it's too much, he'll cry softly besides you; begging for you to come back to him. He regrets not telling you how he truly feels, regret building inside his heart as he holds your hand tightly.

It didn't help how Vermax would act more restless without you. Jace would have a hard time calming him down, Vermax could probably feel from the bond how his rider was also feeling restless and hopeless. Jace would also be haunted by your animal friends visiting your room when he's with you, shooing birds away when he noticed how they'll stay there.

‌One day, Jace feels so defeated as he saw you still lying lifeless on the bed. He would sit by your side, brushing your hair as tears fall through his eyes. "[Name], my love. I'm sorry for not helping you that night. I feel...so defeated. I can't—I can't look at you anymore in this state. It's torturing me inside to just be here and not be able to help you. I'm sorry, my love. I truly am."

‌Jace would feel terrible as he holds your hand. He'll reach up and brush your hair behind your ear as he kissed you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, he brushed his tears away, not noticing how your eyes fluttered. He'll sigh as he hold his head in his hands but his heart will stop when he heard the bed rustling. Jace will think he's gone crazy, but his holds his breath as he heard a soft voice. "Jace? Is that you?"

‌Jace would not believe it at first, but when he looked up, he saw you blinking your eyes. He would laugh incredulously, grabbing your face in his hands as he asked, "[Name], my love. Can you hear me?"

You would nod, making his smile even more wider as he hugs you tightly. He'll scream for the guards to notify his family, kissing your face softly as he repeats the words 'I love you' over and over again. You would be confused yet somewhat happy. You don't remember what happened after collapsing, so it must've been a big thing if Jace is acting like this.

‌Rhaenyra and Luke will be happy. Hugging you tightly before asking if you were okay, which you are. You're just confused when Jace told you you've been unconscious for the past few weeks.

‌Daemon would arrive late as he finally found the culprit, but he'll deal with it later when he noticed you're finally awake and healthy. He'll hug you before making sure you're alright and well.

‌The family would be more possessive and protective towards you after the incident, making sure you're comfortable and happy. Jace would be stuck to your side, now brave enough to tell you about his feelings as he wanted to marry you in the future. Rhaenyra would support it fully, happy that you'll officially be apart of her family. Dayana would be in tears, stressed out after not being able to meet you as you're unconscious.

‌Daemon will eventually ask you about you're background, wanting you to be fully honest if you want him to catch the culprit. The family would be by your side as you told them about your past. They'll be livid and angry at your step-mother. Daemon finally convinced that it was actually her doing all this time.

‌Days will past, you and Jace grew even more closer and told people about how you're lovers. He'll always be by your side, hand placed on your back as he softly whispered about how much he loves you; making you giggle and slap his arm when he whispers about something more dirty.

‌You ignored it when Daemon is back from his 'journey', bringing back a child resembling your step-mother. You ignored Daemon's bloody clothes as he talked to Rhaenyra about something. You ignored a bloody cloth with something bloody inside, almost shaped like a head. You don't want to worry about that.

‌Yet you worry about the child. So from then on, you treated the boy as if he's your sibling. Not wanting the weight of his mother's wrongdoing being put onto him. You're happy with your life now, you just hope in the future you'll be happier building your own little family with Jace.

"The moon"

ok ya'll! I know I said I'm doing another chapter of this is me trying (and I am) buttttt I read @i-cant-sing's time traveler AU and I could not stop thinking about it. I'm muslim and it's Ramadan and I realized I have free will to write whatever I want, SO i present to you a platonic yandere story set in the Ottoman Empire. kinda based on real people and events, but a lot of things are just my imagination! I am NOT a history buff, I just enjoy historical things, if something is wrong, feel free to politely correct me. The main character is a female and does have a name (Esmira) and face type BUT i try not to go into her too much so you can imagine what you like. Credits to @i-cant-sing, it was their writing that inspired me! check out their works, they're really talented! I DO NOT SPEAK TURKISH, ALL MY KNOWLEDGE IS GOOGLED AND SURFACE LEVEL.

Ottoman Empire, Constantinople

Year 1524

I was my father’s moon.

"Benim ayım."

He called me that when I nestled against his side, his arms encircling me as he listened to my childish recitation of the Qur’an, my voice small yet steady. “My little moon,” he would murmur, pressing a kiss to my forehead when I finished. “No one recites as beautifully as my Esmira.”

To me, he was not Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent. The Lawgiver, the formidable warlord. To me, he was my beloved Baba.

I would giggle, curling my fingers into the folds of his kaftan. I never sat apart from him, never kept a polite distance. When we dined, I ate off his plate, tearing bread from his own hands, dipping it into his soup the way I had since I was old enough to chew.

"You will spoil her, Hünkârım," my mother, Medriveh, would say from across the room, watching as my father lifted me onto his lap, letting me pick the ripest dates from his tray.

"She is already spoiled," he would reply, laughter deep in his chest. And he would not send me away. He never sent me away.

I prayed with him, every dawn and every dusk, my small voice whispering after his as we kneeled on the prayer rugs. When my hands trembled in the cold, he would clasp them in his own, warming them against his palms.

"When you are older, you will have a place beside me," he had told me once, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. "Even when I go to war, my moon will stay in my sky."

I believed him.

When he rode through the palace gates on his great black stallion, I was the only one out of my siblings- Mustafa, Selmin, Mehmed, and Layla- he lifted onto the saddle before him. I would press my cheek to his chest, feeling his laughter rumble beneath my ear as he held the reins in one hand, keeping me close with the other.

I thought it would always be like that. I thought nothing could take me from him.

I was wrong.

My mother never hit me.

She did not need to.

Her weapons were sharper than any blade, her words precise and cruel, cutting deep where no one could see.

"You embarrass me, Esmira," she would sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose whenever I stumbled in my lessons or tripped over my skirts. "Must you always follow your brothers like a stray dog? They have no use for you."

"I just want to be with them."

"They do not want to be with you."

Her disappointment weighed heavier than any slap.

I had always adored Mustafa, Selmin, and Mehmed. I ran after them in the gardens, trailed them through the halls, sat at their feet as they practiced swordplay.

I wanted to be part of their world, to belong with them as I had once belonged with my father.

But they were always too fast, too sharp, too indifferent.

"Go away, Esmira." Selmin’s voice was rough, barely sparing me a glance as he wiped sweat from his brow, his sword resting against his shoulder. "We are not playing games."

"I can learn too!"

"You are not a soldier." Mustafa did not even look at me, already turning back to his sparring partner. "You are not even useful."

Mehmed was the only one who pretended to care, giving me his easy, careless smile.

"Little sister, you should be with the women," he said, flicking my forehead with two fingers. "We are busy."

"I just want to be near you."

"Then sit quietly. Do not make a fuss."

So I did. I sat in the dirt, in the sun, in the cold. I waited for them to acknowledge me.

They never did.

Layla was everything I was not. Four years older than me, and stunning. The true daughter of a Sultan

She was graceful where I was clumsy, beautiful where I was plain, loved where I was ignored.

"Your sister was never like this," my mother would say as she brushed my hair, her touch firm and impersonal. "She knew how to behave, how to walk, how to be wanted."

Layla was desired by all who saw her. Even the women in the harem whispered about her, about her elegance, her cruelty, her charm.

"You are fat, Esmira," she told me one afternoon, watching as I struggled to fit into the new silk kaftan our mother had gifted me. "And slow. And foolish."

"You are my sister," I whispered. "You should love me."

She only smiled.

"Love is earned, little one. And you have done nothing to earn it."

Then, one day, a week after my eleventh birthday everything changed. I was going to my father, to try and capture his attention again when I heard her. My mother.

"She is useless, Hünkârım. If you will not marry her off, then send her away."

I pressed my back against the lattice screen, breath trapped in my chest. I was too young to marry. Baba always said he would wait till I was eighteen. That he would keep me forever if I wanted.

"To where?" He replied sharply.

"To the Greeks," my mother said smoothly, as if my fate was nothing more than a chess piece being moved across the board. "The Basileus of Morea wishes for an Ottoman princess as a ward. A peace offering."

"She is only a child, Mehdrivan."

"She is a disgrace."

Silence. A silence so deep it felt like the air itself had stopped moving.

Then, finally, the words that destroyed me.

"Fine."

The world blurred around me. My heart slammed against my ribs, a desperate, caged thing trying to claw its way out. I waited till my mother had left, till i could no longer hear her cruelty.

No. No, no, no.

I did not think. I ran.

Baba

I burst into my father’s chamber, barefoot, breathless, trembling.

He stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the courtyard below. The glow of the setting sun burned against his silhouette, making him seem even larger, more untouchable.

I was eight again, running to him after falling in the gardens, scraped knees and teary eyes, knowing he would pick me up, soothe me, call me his moon.

But I was not eight. And he did not turn.

"Baba!" I cried, voice breaking.

Slowly, he turned to me.

For a moment, just a moment, his face softened. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the unreadable mask of a ruler, not a father.

"Esmira," he said, his voice even, measured. Distant.

I did not hesitate—I threw myself at his feet.

"Baba, please!" I clutched at the hem of his kaftan, my nails digging into the silk as if I could physically hold myself to him. "I will be good—I will do better! I don’t want to go! I don’t know their language, their God—they will kill me! Let me stay! I love you, Baba! I will stay by your side forever!"

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Stand up, Esmira."

"No!" I sobbed into the fabric of his robes, shaking my head, pressing my forehead to his knee like a beggar at the steps of a mosque. "Please, please, please, I will do anything! I will stop following my brothers, I will stop embarrassing you, I will be what you want, just don’t send me away!"

Nothing.

Not a touch. Not a word.

I felt his silence like a blade slicing through me.

"I do not care about peace!" I cried, hands fisting against him. "I only care about you!"

Finally, finally, he spoke.

"You must go, Esmira. It is for the good of the empire."

Something deep inside me cracked—so violently I swore I heard it echo in the vast, empty space of the chamber.

I recoiled from him, stumbling back.

"You are my father!" My breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. "I am your daughter! I am not a pawn for your empire!"

He did not move. He did not reach for me.

"You are a princess of the Ottoman Empire." His voice was hard, cold. A warlord’s voice, not a father’s. "You will do your duty."

I shook my head, tears burning like acid down my cheeks.

"If you send me away, I will never love you again."

Something flickered in his eyes.

"Esmira—"

"I swear to God, Baba!" My voice rose in fury, in anguish, in something too deep to name. "I swear by Allah Himself, if you listen to my mother, if you send me away, I will never forgive you! Never! You will not be my father anymore!"

His nostrils flared. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"You will not speak to me that way."

"You are not listening to me!"

I was screaming now, screaming as if the force of my voice alone could bring him back to me.

"I will hate you for the rest of my life!"

And then—he struck me.

The first slap sent me reeling. The second tore the breath from my lungs.

My ears rang. My vision blurred.

I staggered back, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.

He had never hit me before.

Never.

Not once in my entire life.

His sons had felt his hand before—when they disobeyed, when they failed, when they acted recklessly. But not me.

Never me.

I stared up at him, at the man who had once held me in his arms, who had once called me his moon.

I did not recognize him.

He was no longer my Baba—he was Sultan Suleiman, the Great Turk, the Shadow of God on Earth, the warlord who crushed enemies beneath his heel and ruled an empire with an iron fist.

And now, I was afraid of him.

His expression shifted. Regret flickered in his gaze. His hands trembled as he reached for me.

"Esmira—"

I flinched.

I flinched away from him.

For the first time in my life, I feared my own father.

The moment stretched between us, heavy, suffocating.

I saw the realization dawn on him—saw the way his chest rose sharply, saw the way his hands fell to his sides, saw the guilt carve into his face like stone.

But I did not give him the chance to take it back.

I turned and ran.

I did not stop running.

Not when I reached the halls. Not when the guards called after me. Not when my mother’s voice echoed in the distance.

I ran until my lungs burned, until the cold air cut through my thin silk dress, until the world blurred into nothing but streaks of gold and blue and white.

The moon above me was full and bright, casting silver light across the palace gardens.

I pressed my forehead to the earth, fingers digging into the soil.

"I will come back."

The words left my lips like a prayer.

"I swear it."

"And when I do, I will never love you again."

OKKK YA'LL??? WHAT DO YA'LL THINK??? YOU LIKE??? I TRIED SO HARD ON THIS SO PLS BE NICE! I'M KINDA SCARED TO PUT THIS OUT BC ITS NOT MY USUAL CONTENT AND I CHANGED MY WRITING STYLE A BIT, BUT I HOPE IT INTERESTS PEOPLE!! Likes, comments, asks and reblongs are always appreciated, also the platonic yanderes in this story are Sultan Suleiman, Sultana Medrivah, Sehzade Mehmed, Mustafa, and Selmin!

also, yk ur writings good when u got ppl in ur dms and asks telling u its AI. Like bitch please, I spend HOURS thinking of plots and dialougue only to have some random anon saying its AI????? like be fr.

Good Omega

a/n: Halloween part one! I was actually a bit surprised someone would request A/B/O!AU for this, but I can never deny a bit of omegaverse for the soul ♥

Fandom: Original Content     Pairings: Yandere!Alpha!Werewolf x GN!Omega!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Lemon!, Omegaverse kind of sexual, Overall horniness, going into heat, Genderneutral genitals and then one cock, Creampie mention, Impregnation wish, …Beastiality? Do Werewolves count in that? It is lowkey consensual tho lol, But of course Dub-Con), Violence (Off-screen murder mention, Blood mention, Claws mention, Biting/Marking mention, Minor Injuries like scratches and bruises, Fear, Dread), Hunting/Chasing (non-kink)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

With your breathing wrecked from the untrained sprint your forced your legs into, you crashed into the thicket surrounding you.

The forest was never-ending tree trunks in your way, bushes tearing at your clothes and skin, sucking out the blood from your cuts and bruises. Dread coated your tongue, and fear choked you, tightening your throat so you could neither swallow nor scream. There was no way for air to go in or out of your lungs, but even so, you kept pushing onwards.

But there was no escape.

“Human,” the creature snarled, its heavy body crashing into the trunks behind you, claws ripping off the bark of the trees it clawed into in a cacophony of horror. “My omega.”

Its snout sniffing after you was so loud, so eager. So pleased. He could have been right behind you or still far away, yet, the sound grated over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your breath hitched, and a low growl of knowing echoed through the forest.

“You can’t run from me. I know where you are.”

Falling to his four legs, he left thuds whenever he landed on them, bolting, running, hunting. You choked back a scream as you kept moving, an especially tough branch getting stuck on your shirt, ripping off a scrap of it. You turned, briefly, holding the side of your chest and feeling the scratch bleed over your fingers. It will keep him busy, you thought, hurrying along before he could catch up.

You didn’t deserve any of this. Not the exercise much too hard for your poor body, and not the pain going through every muscle while adrenaline and fear kept you moving against their wishes. Your Halloween had been supposed to be a fun party night with friends, walk the streets, laugh at silly costumes, and admire the carved pumpkins. But when you sat down on some tree trunks, laughing and drinking, things turned into the horror movies you’d secretly watch when you were still a teen, thinking they could never be real.

The costume had looked so sick but amazing. Faux fur intricately weaved into a bodice and mask. No one had feared the person approaching your group, everyone much more in awe than anything. But you couldn’t have known that this wasn’t a friendly encounter. That the full moon illuminating the forest ground had been an indication, the warning signs in front of the forest entrance weren’t just for the common wildlife, but every life!

A howl rattled through your bones as the werewolf following you must have found your blood-smeared piece of fabric. It made your gut turn, wanting to throw up the alcohol you had consumed. But there was no time to idle. No time at all. Your core clenched with ecstatic fear as the sound vibrated through your ears, a throbbing sensation going through you every time the beast did anything to let you know it was right behind you.

You had no idea what was wrong with you, a part of your brain so muddled by your feelings it wanted you to lay down into a submissive mess, ass presented in the air for your pursuer. At the same time, your sanity and reason were appalled by your sudden need pulsing between your legs.

“I’ll make you mine,” the creature growled, no longer occupied by the shabby piece of fabric after having a whiff of you. “Cease this chase, Omega, or I’ll make sure you won’t be walking for a long time after I’m done with you.”

There was something excitingly dominant about the creature calling you his and asking you to give up. You knew—you knew—it was crazy to consider, but maybe you were infected by a poison that had gotten into your bloodstream after getting cuts and stings all over your body in this forest? Perhaps it was the alcohol? But whatever excuse, you felt your face flush with heat, and you bit back a moan.

More growling. More throbbing.

You resisted and kept moving. But for how long would you be able to? When would it stop? Where was the exit to the forest? Did you want to leave?

“Fuck!” You could hear his fangs snapping angrily as his body bumped into the trees you had just passed. He was so close to you now, and a breathtaking odor filled your nose, making you gasp, your legs wobbly.

“I can smell you, Omega. You’re so fucking wet. Why do you keep running from me?!”

“Go… go away!” Finally, you found your voice, screaming the words as loudly as you could, desperation and fear choking the building lust inside you into silence. That monster killed your friends! Chopped them right up, and you were next! This was no time to get horny! Your body’s reaction to being chased by a six-foot-tall monstrosity was genuinely unhelpful. Why did it make you want to spread your legs in the middle of this dirty, thorny forest ground so badly?

“NEVER!” it echoed back, and you shuddered, the last resistance giving away with your legs that could no longer support you.

Sinking to the ground, it wasn’t the painful roots and leaves combo you expected, but soft moss welcoming you into a cool embrace. The air, too, felt icy even though it had been an unexpectedly warm day. Had the temperature dropped, or were you just unimaginably hot from all the running?

The heavy footsteps approached you, animalistic snarling and teeth snapping together gave you a visceral reaction shooting through your whole body and into your loins. Whimpering, you squeezed your legs together, trying to hold back the tears as the sight of the monster came into view. Clasping a hand over your mouth, a smell so sweet it threatened to overwhelm you with pleasure, your heart demanding to be let out of your chest while your remaining clothes got soaked in your juices.

“Please be quick,” you sobbed into your palm, tears overflowing. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to be mere blood dripping out of his murderous snout with teeth sharper than any thorn caught against your skin. Closing your eyes, you were shivering as he drew closer, his gaze scanning over you. It was like he could see right through you, and you hoped his nose wasn’t actually good enough to really smell all the nasty reactions you had to him. He wasn’t a very good-looking monster, shaggy, unkempt. And yet, at the same time, you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck, let him take you one last time before you’d die.

But now that your body had given up, what else was there for prey to do but wish for a quick and painless death?

Keep reading

In the Danny is Damian’s brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasn’t because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.

What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.

Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you don’t follow orders. Just like what Ra’s said about Danny.

So he didn’t tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jason’s positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.

Whether or not Bruce would do this to Danny’s memory doesn’t matter. B’s actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.

Brain it's 5am let me fucki g sleep

Sooo you know all those Amity was displaced into the DC universe when returned after Pariah's defeat aus? What if that happened but alittle more extreme?

What if when it returned, Amity was in the middle of the ocean?

Danny is a protection spirit, one with a huge heart and completely OP even by the time he fights Pariah. He's going to do something drastic the split second that he realizes Amity is in the ocean and it is Sinking. The land that had been transported with the town is breaking apart. Buildings are crumbling and people are panicking.

His People are screaming to be helped.

So he does. He dives under Amity and channeling his still developing Ice/space Core creates a pillar of Never Melt Ice from the Sea Floor to Amity, cradling the floating town and filling the cracks. Only to do this, to keep his town safe, Danny is in the center of the Pillar.

And well there are Consequences to this, for one Danny's Core is in fluctuation between settling as an Ice Core or as a Space Core. Thus the Land and the People are changed, their Protector sacrificed himself to become their City/Island essentially. His Core Shattering and Reforming a second time with this Sacrifice, though the Reforming is taking time. During that time, Amity has become basically the Center of Bermuda Triangle in the DC universe. Space and Time warped around the partially Frozen island. The inhabitants changed by their extreme contamination from their Heros Sacrifice and the Ghost Zone, as well as becoming Eternal Beings. Amity is now a Frozen kingdom of Ice and Stars.

And is only discovered by the JL due to their Creator finally Reforming, thus the turbulent connection to their new reality has Stabilized.

love this idea 🩷

Family Wrath

( Implied SA, not actually SA, POV outsider misunderstandings )

Okay I want all the misunderstandings!

Misunderstandings galore my beloved!

Anyway!

For this intrusive thought that decided to hit me as I was minding my own business-

Danny is the baby that Stephanie gave into adoption when she was young.

Obvi trans Danny,

So after Stephanie realizes just who Danny is she investigates (You can't escape the Bat paranoia training)

But here are the misunderstandings: Ellie and Dante (de-aged)

" Oh my God guys I'm a grandmother! "

But wait there's more!

Danny is how old?! With kids, that are very much not newborns?

" So who's the dad? "

" Oh some fruit-loop named Vlad, he was obsessed with my mom when they went to college together but she wasn't interested at all & now he's obsessed with me. He really wanted the 'perfect' son but I told him to fuck off not that he cared about what I wanted. So yeah, sorry for rambling-are you okay you look a little pale, is the heat bothering you? "

Danny forgets that peoples first thoughts aren't " Oh yea clone! " Or timeline shenanigans

So what these concerned people heard was " Yea this adult man wanted my mom and when he saw that that wasn't an option he targeted me as a child "

Dante & Ellie are just enjoying the show intentionally creating more misunderstandings and havoc, they hope someone will finally go beat Vlad since they're now too small to beat him.

~

Dante: " Momma practically died when I was born. "

Ellie: "Yea I almost killed him too! "

They're technically not lying just using what actually happened in a different context

~

Alfred after hearing what's going on grabbing his shotgun: " I still have good aim."

~

Jason/Stephanie: " A little murder is fine, as a treat "

~

Just more and more misunderstandings happening around Danny with him being none the wiser.

~

Feel free to add to my nonsense, I love it, it's fun to read what people come up with

~

Just an (Intrusive) Idea

DCxDP Idea - Tucker x Tim Soulmate AU:

Now on AO3

So the Justice League believes the Fentons and the GIW. Not completely, but enough. That’s the bad news. The worse news is that they have Danny, and are apparently planning to use him in some kind of spell to banish all the ghosts from the living plane. Which, okay, sure, not the worst idea, except that trying to banish a Liminal is a great way to kill them instead, and guess what everyone in Amity Park is? Not to mention what powering such a ritual could do to Danny.

Tucker is not having a panic attack. He might have one later, but right now he has a job to do.

So the thing about the Justice League is that they’re powerful and together they cover each other’s weaknesses, but individually they are, if not manageable, then at least survivable. They can’t take on the entire league, but Ghosts and their ilk have fangs for a reason, and every predator knows how to divide and conquer.

Technus and Skulker are using Lex Luthor’s tech to deal with the Supers. Jazz has got emotional manipulation and FrightKnight’s sword to take down the Flashes. Desiree agreed to start a mage’s duel with the Justice League Dark. Sam, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty hopefully have the watchtower in hand, with Walker playing backup to get Danny free.

Tucker has two jobs. One, work with Technus to take down the Justice League communications without making it look like anything is up. Two, for the love of the Ancients, do not let the Bats realize something is wrong.

And you know what? He’s got this. Duul Aman was the most feared sorcerer of his time. Tucker isn’t him, not really, but he’s no slouch in the magic department. Egyptian magic, the way Duul Aman knew it, was almost like code. Relearning it was as easy as breathing, but the real reason Tucker’s job is to deal with the bats is because he took it further than his last life ever could. Sure, he’s a dab hand at illusions, his curses are almost as nasty as Sam’s, and instant sandstorms are never not useful, but where he really thrives is with tech. Afterall, if ectoplasm can be combined with computers, why can’t magic?

Tucker is the world's first technomage and he’s goddamn proud of it.

It’s his saving grace now. Infiltrating Oracle’s system took weeks, and he still wasn’t able to look at or do anything important, but it was enough of an opening for his magic. He wormed his illusion through every single piece of bat-tech he could reach, whispering in their ear, Gotham needs you. The Justice League is fine. Gotham is where the problems are. 

Weeks of work and sleepless nights, and he still doubts he’ll be able to keep them from noticing anything for more than a few hours. Luckily, by that time Danny will be free and Tucker will be long gone from Gotham.

This confidence lasts until he brushes hands with another guy in the cafe. He can feel the bond snap into place, a soulmark crawling across his body. Tim Drake stares at him, eyes wide but sharp. 

Tim Drake.

Red Robin.

Shit.

Time to see whether fighting ghosts extends to fighting humans, because he is not letting this asshole mess up Danny’s rescue.

+++

The first thing Tim notices when he meets his soulmate is the rage in the man’s eyes.

They’re really pretty eyes. A bright, glowing gold, lined in kohl. Almost certainly a sign of magic. 

They look at him like the man wants to turn him inside out and burn the remains. Tim’s a little offended, beneath the shock and awe.

“Fuck,” the man hisses. Tim’s offense is starting to supersede his surprise. He’s a catch, thank you very much.

He says as much. The man laughs, and it’s almost friendly.  The cafe is empty. The people of Gotham have good instincts, and there’s something in the air around this man that puts Tim’s hackles up.

“You know, I think that’d be more believable if you hadn’t started this.”

Tim’s brow wrinkled. He felt like he’d remember starting something with his soulmate though? What was he supposed to have started, anyway? Saying ‘this’ wasn’t very specific. 

He rolled and dodged to avoid the sudden lash of golden sand. Ah. A fight. He could do that. Figure out why his soulmate was angry later, defeat him now.

He reached up to call for backup and only got static.

Shit.

He was on his own. Time to show this bastard why underestimating a bat was a bad idea.

Yandere Short Stories:

Play Pretend

Yandere Past Stalker x Fem Reader

TW: unsettling themes, manipulation, stalking (mentioned), yandere behavior, and drugging

Sizzle. Snap. Pop.

The sounds of eggs frying on a pan filled (your name)’s ears while she sat at the mahogany kitchen table. No matter how many times her husband made her breakfast, she couldn’t quite get used to it… (your name) couldn’t help but feel as if there was something horribly amiss.

A little voice often cried in the corners of her mind that this beautiful man was not her husband. That he was an imposter. Yet she couldn’t understand the voice… this man had to be her husband!

Desiderio was there by her side the moment she opened her eyes when she woke up from her coma. She recalled how his large hands held hers while fat tears rolled down his cheeks. That man clung to her like a lifeline, his lips fervently pressed against the top of her head the moment her eyes fluttered open.

And here she was today! In their house that still felt foreign to her despite the two months that had rolled by… a foreign home with no tv nor a radio. A home full of books, plants, and even six photo albums of her. Yet there weren’t many pictures of the two of them together... Desiderio was an incredibly passionate man when it came to her. (Your name) had no doubt this man worshipped the ground she walked on.

(Your name) jumped when a neatly prepared plate was placed in front of her. Desiderio’s chocolate eyes scanned her face with a frown before he smiled brightly.

“Cara mia, you’re lost in thought again.” Desiderio took a seat beside her, large hand now wrapped around hers. His dark eyes filled with concern. “You’ll get a headache if you think too hard about everything… how about you try some eggs? I prepared them just the way you like them!”

(Your name) smiled at her husband who gently pushed the plate closer to her. “Aren’t you going to eat too, darling?”

The large man shivered at the nickname, a dark blush now on his cheeks. “Yes… but I worry more about you. You’re still so weak.”

Desiderio pressed a kiss on the top of her head before he made his way over to fetch himself a plate.

(Your name) raised a brow at the slightly unsavory taste of the eggs. How odd… had her husband used a new kind of seasoning?

(Your name) continued to much away, blissfully unaware of the twisted smile on Desidedio’s face. The brunette’s hands shook as he tried to keep his breathing calm.

Desiderio had loved this beautiful woman since university nearly a decade ago. He knew they were destined to be together from a single glance and Desiderio would have done anything to make sure that happened…

(Your name) was like a fairy tale princess who was kind to everyone, even someone like him. Desiderio was a loser back then. A nerd with little social skills and a scrawny body, he was half the man his brother was… all his life he was compared to his perfect brother. All because he wasn’t athletic.

Desiderio always yearned for (your name) and her affection. It wasn’t fair that his older brother was the one who swooped her up. His cold, neglectful brother who had the emotional capacity of a rock.

It wasn’t fair! Sirius knew Desiderio loved (your name)! Sirius had everything growing up. The family business, the looks, the love of their parents, the money, everything. So why did Sirius get the girl too?

What could (your name) possibly see in Sirius? Sirius was dull and uninteresting, he was only handsome and the heir to a multi-generational company. He had no other redeeming traits! Desiderio was far more romantic and he always left her loving notes in the locker! Was his heartfelt emotion not enough for (your name)?

Desiderio went into a deep depression when the love of his life married Sirius. He threw himself into medical school and painstakingly climbed up the ladder until he made it to the position of medical director. Desiderio worked out until sweat would puddle at his feet, he grew out his black hair, and he became a beloved member of society to try to forget (your name).

It was pure luck (your name) had gotten hit by that car and ended up in a coma at his hospital. It was destiny that her workaholic husband ignored the frantic calls of the nurses and that he only left his last name down as her emergency contact. It was simply too easy to slip his fingers into the sweet honey pot he had always wanted…

And it was even better that she had amnesia. Now Desiderio could mold her in the way that was always intended… as his wife. There would never be a day where she’d feel unloved or neglected. She’d be pampered and endlessly doted on like the princess she was!

(Your name) let out a cute yawn as she stretched her arms above her head. The sweet sight snapped Desiderio from his musings. Goodness she was so precious… and she was all his.

Desiderio slithered forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders with a smirk.

“Cara mia, it seems you’re still sleepy. How about I carry you back to bed?” Desiderio pressed a tender kiss to her temple. The softest of smiles on his plump lips. “We can lay on each other’s arms for a while longer.”

“You’re always so sweet…” (your name) nuzzled her head into Desiderio’s shoulder as the man gave her a bright smile. “I don’t know where I’d be without my darling husband.”

“You’d just be cold and lonely.” Desiderio would play pretend until the very end.

NINE TO FIVE, FIVE TO NINE Yandere Married Boss x Office Siren Reader

AN: RAHHH. IT'S FINALLY HERE. This took me way longer then it should have but I'm really proud of it. I hope it lives up to the expectations of the 400ish people who liked the original post. This ones filled with shitty people all around. TW: 18+ ONLY, NON-CON, Older Male/Younger Female (mid 30s, mid 20s), Abuse of power (Boss/Employee), Infidelity, Face-Sitting, Cunnilingus, Switch Man, Switch Woman, PIV sex, Manipulation, Roofies, Kidnapping, Mentions of Divorce, Mentions of Pregnancy

Every quarter, your company’s HR department sends out an employee satisfaction survey, and every quarter when you reach the “What is your favorite part of working for our company?” question, your answer is the same.

You love the community. Your colleagues are respectful and hardworking; willing to go the extra mile to ensure deadlines are met. You feel as though your work contributes to something larger and that your efforts don’t go unnoticed by your employers. 

Very cute. Very professional. It would be the perfect answer if it wasn’t all bullshit. 

Your coworkers are fine, but not worth a twenty minute commute and shitty benefits. What actually keeps you slugging into work every morning is far less… admirable. It isn’t something you could write on a company survey without consequences, at least.

Your favorite part of your job is bouncing on your boss's cock.

Yes, you know, “shame on you” — but it’s not like you intended to be an office siren. When you applied for the job all you wanted was to make rent. This was your first “adult” job, so in adult fashion, you tried to keep things professional. 

Emphasis on tried.

It's just... how could you work to your fullest when you were spending all day fantasizing about those toned forearms pinning you down? How were you supposed to answer emails when you were busy wondering if he looked better in or out of his suit? Everyday he sat five feet away from you looking so pent-up and fuckable, could you really be blamed for getting distracted? The hit to your productivity was a detriment to the company. You were just being a responsible employee by fixing the issue.

Yes, he’s ten years your senior. Yes, there’s a blaring ethical issue with a boss fucking his secretary. But he’s a man of childrearing age and you’re a fertile young woman; it’s not your fault you have biological urges.

Besides, it’s not like he’s absolved from blame. You certainly don’t force him to lie down on the couch in his office and pull you onto his face. The desire for you to cum on his nose is entirely his own.

“Fuck, Y/N.” his groan vibrates up into your core, pulling the knot in your stomach tight. One rough hand lies at your waist, following your hips as they roll against his mouth. The other works at his perked up cock, lazily tugging up and down as he devours your cunt. “That’s it baby, ride my fuckin’ nose.”

He’s been at it for nearly half your lunch break now, lapping and sucking at your folds in lieu of his actual meal - not that you’re complaining. How could you, when his tongue is so adamant? It flicks through your folds greedily to earn more of your juice, savoring the salty-sweet taste he’s become so addicted to. Every slurp, lap and suck is catered specifically to your preferences.

You've done well with him. When you first took him under your wing he’d never even eaten pussy before, in fact, he’d only ever slept with two women. Not for lack of desire, he told you, he just never had the time or confidence to flirt in his twenties. Before he knew it, time got away from him and he was past the age where hookups are deemed socially acceptable. 

Your heart broke for him. A man as handsome as him shouldn't be having mediocre sex. So you, being the selfless woman you are, offered to help him make up for lost time. 

It only took one blowjob for him to overlook the ethics of the situation.

With a gentle hand, patience, and lots of encouragement, you’ve turned the businessman into a first rate manslut. He fucks and eats pussy like a veteran now and he’s always eager to get more practice, he drags you onto his face nearly every time he calls you into his office.

He’s come a long, long way, your little pet project.

Inadvertently, you thrust your hips forward, grinding your clit against the bridge of his nose. His tongue burrows itself into your hole, and that’s enough to send you over the edge. Your belly goes taut, your thighs clamp around his ears and you bite your lip to stifle your scream as the contractions roll through your body. Each one sets off fireworks. Fizzing and popping like sparklers in your tummy. Mind-numbing, toe-curling, perfection.

He’s an absolute mess when you climb off of his face. Completely blissed out, face dripping with juices and saliva, glistening in the light pouring through the window. The collar of his pristine white dress shirt is drenched and wrinkled, most likely ruined, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. No, his hungry eyes haven't left that cute little mound between your legs.

“Bend over the desk.” he growls, leaving a smack on your ass as you pull yourself up, and despite the sting you can’t help but smile at his confidence. He’s a far cry from the man he was before you got your hands on him.

You decide to reward him with a little show; swaying your hips teasingly as your stilettos click across the floor, obediently laying yourself over the smooth mahogany, keeping a light arch in your back so he has a nice view of your ass. 

You smile coyly at his reddened face, “You coming, Boss?”

His adam's apple bobs and he makes his way over, eyes dark and dilated, cock leaking beads he positions himself between your legs.

“We only have fifteen minutes before my lunch ends,” you purr, “You think that’s enough time to make us both cum?”

"That’s more than enough~" he growls, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking back so he can purr in your ear, "Do you want my cock in this tight little cunt, Y/N? Do you want me to fill you up?"

You frantically nod, accentuating the act with an exaggerated whimper and needy roll of your hips.

"Beg for it then." he hisses.

If you were in a sadistic mood you might test how long you could make him hold out, but you feel like indulging him today, so you look back at him all teary and doe-eyed. "Please, please, please, Sir. I need your thick cock in my tight little cunt! I can't - Ah! - I can't take it anymore!"

A loud groan tumbles past his lips as he lines himself up, tracing the fat head up and down your slit,  “Slutty thing. That’s alright baby, I’ll give you what you—”

The clink of something falling off his desk interrupts the thought. The object in question rolls a few feet across the wood floor before wobbling in circles and finally lying flat.

His wedding band glitters innocently in the afternoon sun, silently mocking its owner and his mistress.

Ah, the elephant in the room.

Yes, you know he’s married. If the ring wasn’t enough of a tell, the picture of the two of them on his desk is. He's about a decade younger in it, grinning wide as she presses a kiss to his cheek. They took it in France during their honeymoon, he told you. 

You’ve never met his wife, but you can tell from the picture that she’s the quintessential college sweetheart. The type of girl who’s never drank, smoked or had a cavity. The kind of girl you propose too at the park and settle down with in a white picket fence suburban neighborhood. The kind of girl who says “Not tonight, honey.” when you ask to have sex at the end of a stressful day.

In layman's terms, she's boring.

And clearly, she isn’t taking care of him correctly. He was so obviously pent up when you started flirting with him, just a glimpse of your cleavage was all it took to get him rock hard.

Of course it’s morally reprehensible, but you could argue that making him work his dull 9-5 everyday for nothing in return is wrong too. Somebody had to help the guy out. If she wasn’t going to do her job then you’d have to do it for her.

The guilt nearly killed him at first. The day after the first blowjob he dragged you into his office and furiously—or maybe desperately—started pacing up and down the room. Giving you the “We can’t do this. For Christ’s sake Y/N, I’m married.” speech, whether he was lecturing you or himself, you aren’t entirely sure.

Still, you listened patiently as he rambled, and eventually you decided it was best to back off. It was a disappointment for sure but you'd get over it. You were too hot to be meddling in people's marriages anyway. 

At least directly meddling.

You didn’t make any more blatant advances, but you did start wearing dresses and skirts that fell a tad too short to be considered work appropriate. The necklines of your tops started plunging too, showing off as much cleavage as you could without HR getting up your ass. And you suddenly became very clumsy. “Accidentally” dropping things whenever he was around, or leaning over his desk just enough to give him a nice look down your shirt. 

Not even a week later he pulled you into his office, all but begging on his knees for you to fuck him. That was your green card. You aren’t to blame if he’s the one who instigated. So you rode him like a mechanical bull, chest filled with pride as you looked at that stupid picture of him and his wife.

You always get what you want in the end.

Dispite your victory however, his wife remains a thorn in your side. Your boss has gone completely soft staring at that dumb ring, thinking of his dumb wife who probably couldn’t suck a dick to save her life. No wonder he’s cheating, the bitch pisses you off and you’ve never even met her.

Holding back an exasperated sigh, you give his tie a gentle tug. You soften your face as he turns back, gently--teasingly tracing your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin to gently tilt it up. And though he obeys the silent command, the shame swimming in his eyes makes your smile waver.

It irks you, for some reason, how upset he is by this. Maybe that’s selfish. Maybe you should have more sympathy, but you can’t push past the desire to keep him for yourself. You may have won, but did you really if his heart is still hers? 

That’s something to address another time. Getting him hard again takes precedence right now, you’re not going to let that bitch get between you and his dick.

You pull yourself off of his desk, grabbing his hand gently. He follows you to the couch—far more hesitantly then you’d like—but he doesn’t complain when you lie him down and climb on top. He never complains when you climb on top. You leave a sweet kiss between his eyebrows and the cute, attention-starved thing burns bright red. Adorable.

“You’re alright.” You caress his stubbled cheek, slowly coaxing him with honey-sweet kisses, like a siren luring a sailor to his doom. “It’s not your fault you have urges, remember? You’re a grown man, it’s not healthy for you to be so pent-up.” 

His throat clicks with a heavy swallow when your hand moves down, gently wrapping around his soft penis, stroking it lightly, teasingly, all while flashing your big, lust-blown eyes and quivering lip. The rod in your hand fills out shamelessly, and like a bad habit, his eyes flick back down to your pretty cunt. You can tell he’s itching to touch, his morality holding on by a thread, but he’ll always fold to you in the end. You, and your torturous little pocket of bliss.

“That’s it baby.” you purr, picking up his trembling hand and placing it over your clit, “Little circles, just like I taught you.” As soon as his hand starts moving he’s putty in your hands again; any remaining penitence completely snuffed out. He’s hypnotized. Pussy-whipped. Rubbing your little pearl with rough pads, working it like a joystick and groaning licentiously as you trace the head of his cock up and down your folds. You line yourself up, leaning forward so you’re hovering just a few centimeters away from his face, close enough to feel his hot breath on your lips.

“We both know she can’t give you what you need. But I can. I’ll make you feel so good~” you purr, letting one hand find it's way up his shirt to trace over his trembling torso. Little bumps erupt all over his skin when the tip of his cock catches in your little divot. You can't help your lips from curling up.

You lower yourself so your hole swallows just the tip, and his breath hitches beneath you. You clench in response, just a little squeeze to remind him who makes him feel good, who his cock really belongs too, and if the bubbling moan that passes his lips is anything to go by, he got the memo.

You ghost your lips over his neck, nibbling lightly at his sensitive pulse point, teasingly tracing a little heart over his pecs, “Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?” 

He all but whimpers as you drop yourself down, white-knuckling the sofa, so overwhelmed you swear his eyes start tearing, and when you finally reach the base he groans like he’s seen heaven. You don’t think about his wife, or his ring, or morality while you bounce on his cock. Not a flicker of guilt passes through your mind when he bucks and fills you with his cum. Why should it? Your job is to ensure your boss's needs are met while he's in the office, and you’re doing just that. His life after five pm is none of your concern, really.

—

About two months later you find an unassuming sticky note on your desk, scrawled over in his chicken-scratch handwriting.

Come to my office at 5, we need to talk.

It strikes you as odd. Normally he’d just come talk to you about any arrangements, lay a gentle hand on your shoulder and bend down to whisper something filthy in your ear, but your boss is nowhere in sight. Not on the office floor checking up on his employees, not in the break room making idle chatter while he refills his coffee, your boss stays holed up in his office all day, and when you walk in to give him his schedule for the upcoming week he only grunts in acknowledgement, never looking up from his computer.

Something is clearly wrong. Normally, he can’t keep his hands off of you—you never leave his office without a slap on the ass and a promise to make you regret wearing whatever curve hugging skirt you put on that day—but he seems to want nothing to do with you, or rather, he seems to be avoiding the fact that he does. The blatant disregard pisses you off, frankly. You put effort into your makeup today.

But more than that, his sudden indifference is unsettling. You can’t put your finger on why; he’s never given you reason to believe that he’s resentful, and despite his dour, professional persona he’s about as intimidating as a newborn kitten. Still, the tension in his office is thick. Thicker than you realize. When you step out you're surprised to find your lungs are aching from holding the breath you walked in with.

You spend the better part of your day trying to convince yourself that you’re just feeling ill. You aren’t nervous. There’s no reason to be. The gut feeling telling you to walk out at five today is just the byproduct of spoiled eggs at breakfast. You’re in control. You always are.

Still, when five o’clock comes your heart is pounding. Alarm bells clang in your head, screaming that something bad is going to happen if you walk through that door. Briefly, an interview from a true crime documentary you once watched plays through your head—the victim was lamenting how she regretted not listening to that “gut feeling” before she got kidnapped—but that’s ridiculous. You know your boss and you’re certain he’s not a kidnapper. The notion itself is ridiculous. You’ll be fine. You’ve been fucking him for three months, him acting weird doesn’t mean today will be any different.

After a few deep breaths you open the door and as promised, he's waiting for you, but not how you expected him to be. Normally, he’d be rolling his hips into his fist by now, impatiently demanding you get on your knees in front of him, but today he’s fully clothed, penis nowhere in sight. Instead, his hands cup a white mug of steaming liquid—an identical one that you presume to be yours sits on the opposite side of his desk—and he seems… tired. Pale and weighted; certainly not aroused in any way.

“You can sit, you know. I’m not angry at you.” he calls vacantly from across the room, not looking up from his cup.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, realizing you’ve been staring. With a thick swallow, you make your way over to him, mustering up as pleasant a smile as you can. When you finally sit and get a good look at him, however, the grin drops. 

He looks… awful. Weary and bleak, with red, puffy circles around his eyes like he’s recently been crying, his hair is mussed and a five o’clock shadow is growing on his chin. It’s jarring, to say the least. He’s normally so put together, you can’t remember if you've ever seen him disheveled. He’s a hard man to shake typically, his job demands it, but he looks utterly distraught. For a brief moment, you feel kind of bad.

Gross.

A halfhearted chuckle leaves his mouth, “I’m sorry. I must look pretty pathetic, huh?” 

Immediately you straighten, rectifying your smile. You can’t show cracks. There are no cracks, “Not at all Sir. What can I help you with?” 

A meaty hand waves you off. “Don’t bother with professionalism, Y/N. We both know we aren’t here to talk about work.” he runs a hand through his already mussed up hair and shuts his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a long breath, thinking deeply or maybe steeling himself, before slowly exhaling, pushing the second mug towards you “Here, take a drink. This might be a lot.”

“Oh no, I’m not thirsty–”

“Drink.” he interrupts, and you’re startled by how sharp the command is. It’s far cry from the playful orders you’re used to receiving when he growls at you to get on your knees or bend over his desk. Instinctively, you find yourself rushing to obey.

When you bring the mug to your lips, his face relaxes. The alarm balls start jingling in the back of your head again.

“I’m going to be blunt about this,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “My wife found out about the affair and she wants a divorce.”

Oh. That is a lot.

It takes you a few seconds to process what he’s saying, a few more for it to sink in, but when you’ve finally got a stable grasp on the information, the faucet of emotion is turned on. It doesn’t twist off until your body is on the verge of overflowing.

But not for the right reasons.

Your heart should be sinking, guilt twisting in your gut like a knife. You should be on your knees, groveling in shame; apologizing with your whole chest for ruining this poor man's marriage—but you aren’t. Not a flicker of remorse fills your body.

You feel positively giddy.

Elated. Euphoric. You are on cloud fucking nine. Months, you’ve been waiting for this day; when you could finally take your medal and put it around your neck. It’s not really a matter of him being yours, moreso confirming that you’re hot enough to break up marriages. Fuck the morality of it all. You did it. She’s gone. You won. 

You aren’t tactless enough to start jumping for joy, however. You do your best to put on a genuine-seeming soberness and reply, “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, eyes down-turned, “I’m equally if not more to blame. What’s done is done.” 

He stands then, aimlessly walking to the window. It’s all rather dramatic, you feel, but you're not the one who’s marriage just got destroyed. Quietly he looks across the skyline, face clouding with regret as he speaks, “You should have seen her, Y/N.” You wish you had, “I-I could see her heart breaking in her chest when I admitted to it.”

Oh, the delight that runs through you when you hear that crack in his voice—it makes you dizzy.

“I managed to find an apartment somehow between then and now. I’m in the process of moving in. I thought it was only right to give her space. God, the poor girl…” His cheeks are wet when he turns back to you and another jolt of glee zips through your body. But this one is stronger than the first one. It makes you wobble a little in your chair; you have to clutch the armrests to keep yourself upright.

The bells have started clanging again—painfully loud—and your heart beats in time with each stroke.

“Seven years. We’d been together seven years.” he laments, walking back to you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Despite the touch's innocence it’s searing hot, burning into your skin like an iron, only serving to make the bells louder. You try to jerk away but your body goes slack and when you try to pick yourself back up again, you can’t; no matter how hard you strain and lift, your muscles won’t move.

Your heart is pounding in your head now. His large hands hook under your armpits, hoisting your limp body back up onto the chair like a ragdoll. 

A sick, crawling feeling of dread fills your chest, like when you get to the very top of a rollercoaster. It creeps up your spine and wraps around your chest, squeezing the air out of your lungs. His face… he looks like a madman. Pale and wild; eyes manic and pupils dilated. He swallows heavily, breath shallow and frenzied as he desperately rasps, “I don’t think I could live without a wife again.”

The bells are deafening now and any ounce of joy you might have felt earlier has been drained to oblivion. You aren’t fine anymore. You need to run. You need to scream. Anything.

But you made the realization all too late. Your vision is going spotty and he’s already hoisted you up in his arms. Despite every muscle in your body fighting with all its might, you can’t make yourself move.

For the first time in your life, you’re completely powerless. 

The last thing you remember before being swallowed by the dark is his hot breath puffing against your ear:

“You promised you’d take care of me, didn’t you?” 

—

You wake up to the feeling of something warm and wet on your clit.

In your groggy, half-conscious state you don’t have the capacity or desire to figure out what it is, all that matters is that it feels good. It flicks lazy little shapes over the twitching bud, enveloping it and your folds in a warm, welcoming heat, and for a moment, you think you could die happy just like this. Your hips instinctively buck up towards the source and a low, wonton moan passes your lips. 

“Mmm, thats it darling. Good girl~”

Your eyes fly open.

Every ounce of blood drains from your face when you see his head bowed between your legs, cheeks messy and shiny with your slick, hips rutting needily against the mattress. Your kidnapper.

Your first instinct is to fight, but your limbs still won’t obey you—even if they would, a shift of weight reveals that your hands are bound tightly to the headboard of the bed.

The bed. There’s no bed in his office. Where the hell are you?

It’s all you can do to let out a low, displeased whine. Weakly shimmying your hips away from him only to have them immediately yanked back. He peaks up from your legs, “Shh honey, calm down.” he purrs, not breaking eye contact as he gives your clit a sweet peck, “Just relax and let your husband make you feel good.”

Husband.

Husband.

Your heart picks up in your chest, galloping like a racehorse as you try to process his words. “W-what?” you choke, even drugged your voice is sharp with terror.

He noses gently over your inner thigh, carefully pressing a chaste kiss to the soft plush before addressing you, “Your husband, dear. And you’re my wife~” he hums pleasantly, licking a long lazy stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, “I’m sure you can feel the ring, right?”

Your heart drops as you wiggle your fingers. On your left hand, a cold band of metal topped with some kind of stone wraps around your ring finger. A bout of vertigo flashes through your body. He must notice the horror on your face because he chuckles.

“It was kind of short notice so I had to use hers, but I’ll buy you a new one if you want…” he trails absentmindedly, too focused on laving at your cunt to give the thought his full attention. 

He’s doing it just like you taught him too. The irony could make you cry.

A knot the size of the watermelon grows in your stomach. Whether it’s from the panic or your equally distressing impending orgasm you’re not sure. Regardless, it’s there, and your head is spinning, and he’s starting to climb on top of you and take off his—oh god.

You cry and struggle as much as your leaden body will allow but he easily counters it all with one steady hand on your belly, the thumb of which he moves down to nurse your spit-soaked clit with easy circles. “I know it’s sudden,” he coos, paying no mind to your cries and pleas for mercy as he pulls out his rock hard cock, “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You’re the one who chased after me so desperately after all. I know you were just jealous of her.” 

Loud, wet sobs curl up your throat as he rubs his cock up and down your dripping folds, hypnotized by the lewd, clicking sound your juices make. “P-please.” you beg, trying your best to buck him off of you, “M’ sorry! I-I didn’t mean to—Please let me go.” 

A displeased hum then, “It’s too late for that, honey, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of you.” his frown flips to a soft smile. “You’ll take good care of me too, won't you? just like you promised.”

You feel like you might faint. The blunt head is pushing against your entrance now, threatening to sink into your heat, and though you’ve taken his cock hundreds of times, you’d rather stick your hand into an open flame then take it again. “P-please.” you blubber, “I’ll do anything, just please—Ah! S-stop!”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, only continues his rambling. “You’ll take good care of our children too, I'm sure.” those deranged, lovesick eyes bore into your skull, “Oh, baby. You’re going to look so beautiful when you’re pregnant, I can already tell. So, so pretty, all swollen and glowing~” he groans.

Your eyes blow wide and you start screaming. Half of it is incoherent, but what else are you supposed to do when you can’t fight? You nearly choke on your own sob as he leans over your body, starting to push in with a low, heady groan. “You can’t!” you cry, near hysterics, “Please, you can’t! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything! I’ll-”

“Shhhh,” he cuts you off, clamping a rough hand over your mouth, then bottoms out inside of you with one languid push. You feel like you’re on fire, like a million ants are crawling up your skin and down your throat.

Beads of cold sweat trickle down your back as he rocks into you. Behind his mitt you plead for him to let you go, but he doesn’t notice, or more likely, he doesn’t care. “I think I want three." he muses, "Two girls and a boy. But we can have more if you’d like. What do you think, darling?”

He removes his hand then, you greedily suck in air. It proves to be a difficult task, however, with his dick poking it all back out again with each snap of his hips. Finally, you collect yourself enough to make one final attempt. You stare up into his eyes, hoping to somehow access whatever humanity might remain there. “Please. I don’t want kids. I want to go home.”

He pauses, ceases his thrusting, and stares back down at you. For just a moment, your chest swells with hope.

But then he laughs. A sick, evil chuckle that rings through your bones, punctures your lungs and splits your heart straight down the middle.

“Oh honey, you are home.” he croons, a snap of his hips punctuates the sentence. “And of course you want kids. All husbands and wives who love each other very much become Mommies and Daddies. Besides—”

His hips start driving into you with a brutal sort of ferocity, and he grins so wickedly you swear you can see the devil in his eyes.

“--Won’t it be cute to tell them how Daddy and Mommy fell in love at work?”

higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, satoru gojo, izuku midoriya, kirishima eijiro, kaminari denki, kotaro bokuto, tooru oikawa, kuroo tetsuro, erwin smith, armin arlert