Yandere!emperor X Dancer!reader

I am so in love with yan gov official.... I swear the moment I get more money I'm commissioning more headcanons & stories

bro ily here have some gov official crumbs

✎ yandere! government official who likes to sit you on his lap, stroking your hair as he does his work. he finds it extremely cute :)

✎ yandere! government official who's a surprisingly good singer. he sings in the shower!

✎ yandere! government official who likes to reminisce about the past, thinking back on all the cute memories you made together. don't worry, he also adores the you in the present and he'll make sure you know that <3

Eamon commission!! Thank you @violetvase!!

description: yandere gangster x fem reader, yandere themes/scenarios, fem pronouns, yandere possessiveness/obsession, stalking, some angst I suppose, mentioned killing from the last story where he killed ur coworker, going on vacation and he finds you, etc.

You made your way through the sandy beach, trudging along with a beach chair and large bag slinked around your right shoulder. You wondered if there would be any space to take pictures without having anyone in-front, you’d probably have to find the best spot, and you just did.

You set up camp right in a breath taking spot where people were somewhat distanced but still nearby, peaceful and quiet. Perfect for the vacation you so desperately needed. Your guilty conscious told you that you should’ve notified Eamon about the vacation somehow. Maybe a text that said you were going somewhere for a little awhile and that would suffice, but you didn’t.

You planned this trip to be two weeks so even if he tried locating you, you’d have a good time at the start if he ended up coming. You put on sunglasses after working sunscreen all over your body, the silky sensation felt smooth on your skin. It was warm out and you were perfectly relaxed against your beach chair.

Until you felt a large hand on your shoulder, a presence you definitely didn’t predict suddenly appeared behind you, startling you. The sunglasses you wore were taken off by him so you could get a proper view of him.

“Hey, isn’t this beach relaxing?” Eamon said with a friendly voice, but you could tell from the popping vein on his forehead and seething teeth that he was 100% pissed at you.

You didn’t care that he was angry though, he deserved to be shocked that you were gone. The fight that broke down before you flew off to a sudden vacation caused it. He was just being too jealous! Too controlling! His watchful eyes every-time you were at work pissed you off.

You had even found out that your creepy coworker didn’t kill himself, it was Eamon! You were sort of relived that the guy was gone but it was morally wrong to end someone over such a trivial matter. That was probably the cherry on top with his possessiveness.

“Heyy…” You said with an awkward length to the simple word. You weren’t sure what to say because of his casual demeanor, it was off putting and a little unsettling, he was definitely masking the immense anger boiling inside him.

“Glad I brought another chair, almost like this trip would be perfect if we were both together” He passive aggressively said, yanking his beach chair out of its folding position and placing it next to yours.

“How’d you find me?” You bluntly said, taking away the chance of foreplay before the serious topic was discussed. “Guess you could say I’m lucky” He sighed, placing your sunglasses on his face rather than yours.

“You knew I wanted to be alone but you still followed?” You instinctively folded your arms, trying to enjoy the sun even with the unexpected Eamon resting near you. Silence pursued after your words, you could clearly hear the waves crashing against the soft sand while it spanned over a few moments.

“I know you don’t like when I watch over you, but I get worried people are going to harass you like that guy did.” He grumbled, not liking the taste of defeat against his tongue. The loss of victory in not being able to make you feel safe without being overwhelming. He didn’t know how to, all he’s learned is how to track and stalk down his prey before he sees that their last breath under his doing and his alone.

“I’d like you to place some trust under me that I can handle the situation, at least enough for you to not breath down my neck when I’m at work” You looked off to the distance, watching people play with a frisbee, you wished you could be relaxing and having fun just like they were.

“I’ll try? Okay..? I just also get anxious.. anxious that someone’s going to chase after you just because you’re affiliated with me. It’s not fair for you to be in danger just because of my career and who I am, that’s why I’m so insistent on being with you..” He paused at certain times where he had to think further, making sure not to stumble or say the wrong thing. “I just want to protect you.”

The whole environment was more stressing than relaxing, it was more noticeable to him because of the topic at hand and your body language. The same feeling was flowing through you, tensing at it just like he was.

“And, you get overly jealous, it’s not just because of my safety sometimes. For example, that pushy cashier who was just trying to advertise and you snapped at him” You turned your head to make eye-contact with Eamon, able to see him scanning your body after you spoke.

“That’s true..” He mumbled, trying to refrain from checking you out too much, he needs to focus on the conversation! But it was hard not to lose his mind with how the bikini wrapped around your body, it made you pop, especially with that color.

You looked away and inhaled for a moment, exhaling quickly afterwards, you weren’t sure why but it helped. It made you feel like you had some patience, for now anyways. He looked at you in his peripheral view, trying to see if you were upset like he thought you were, he was clearly hoping you weren’t.

“So.. when did you get that bikini? Looks nice” He leaned closer, trying to change the subject, at least for now anyways.

“Huh? Oh, um.. I think maybe a week ago? I got it at that one shop near my apartment, it’s cute right?” Your tense mood almost washing away by the casual question that distracted you.

“It looks pretty, we should go to beach’s more often if I get to see you like this” He teased, bringing out a more playful tone on the table, hoping it would lighten the mood and make you joke around as well.

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle all the drooling you’d do if you kept seeing me like this, I would prefer to see you sane” You giggled, finding his stupid little compliment humorous, you could see him leaning in with pouty lips.

“Awh, you won’t even notice me going all googly eyes over you, cmon” He kissed your cheek, secretly desperate for some affection so he decided to initiate it. You didn’t mind the soft lips that pressed against your cheek so you gave him a kiss back, a short one of course, you haven’t completely forgiven him!

Yet his big brown eyes were getting to you, especially when he gazed at your lips, he was itching to kiss you more, which is what he did, bringing you in by his hand on your lower back as he leaned towards you. You could feel his tongue slip into your mouth to deepen the kiss, something you reciprocated while giggling against his lips.

Seeing Eamon needily moving his tongue while making small groans at how much he missed your touch was a rare sight. But you had to stop, you couldn’t make out in the middle of the beach after-all! Some kids or people in general could be looking around which would cause an awkward few moments of eye contact.

He whined when you softly pushed his face away, pouty face starting up as his lower lip pushed out. “What’s wrong? You don’t wanna kiss?” His whiny tone being evident, a little off sounding with his naturally deep voice.

“Someone could see, I mean we’re not in exactly in a private place” You chuckled, scanning the area even though you already planned to stop.

“Who cares.. I missed you” He mumbled, his carelessness shown by how he inched towards you once more, using your hip as a handle to tease at your bikini that he desperately wanted to tear off.

“Still upset with you, don’t think you can get away with it” Your first sentence was spoken with a playful tone, even though there was a burning ache in your heart that just had to reveal how much you wanted to escape from this man’s life threatening grasp. Yet it never happens, not once, and not now either.

You were so conflicted though. One moment you’re in a frenzied attempt to find a way out and just a few moments later you’re accepting his affectionate advances as if he hadn’t killed for you. As if he couldn’t hurt you the same way he did to them. What was stopping him anyways?

You? The police? Who??? What if he got just a little too mad one day and you’re in a situation of life or death? You’d lose to him without a doubt.. just looking at his veiny hands had you imagining how he could choke you to death, swallowing you whole after doing so, just like an anaconda would.

Perhaps he’ll let you go one day, maybe getting tired of you or falling out of love. You weren’t exactly sure if you could even “fix” him to stop being so protective, almost as if he genetically modified to be like this..

Peppering kisses at your neck and teasing at your ticklish sides by gliding his hands up and down, providing a sensation you definitely didn’t want others to guess about. God, why was this so stres—

“You look so tense baby, what’s up?” He frowned, hurriedly tending to your shoulders with a nice massage, assuming that would help. And it did, only for a little bit before it just reminded you that it was him doing it.

“Mm, nothing, just thinking about stuff, I mean I have to get back to work soon after this vacation is done” His slick fingers with vanilla scented lotion rubbed at your collarbones, enticing you to relax even if your mind refused to allow you.

“Work hmm? I’ll help you catch up if you missed a lot, just tell me if anyone’s giving you trouble” He kissed your neck, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Hah, alright” You weakly grinned. You weren’t getting out anytime soon, you and him both knew that.

Hi!! I was wondering if you could give a quick, less than 1 sentence on the specific reason(s) why Brigitte & each of her past lives (Clara, Fawn, Lydia, Zoe, Pepper, etc.) became a maid? Love your webcomic so much!

Thank you so much!

A majority of the maids that Bridgette was needed to support their families. Individually, below there are quite a few other reasons too (not in any particular order)!

Clara (left): Providing for her mother (her father died when she was young and her mother struggled with depression, making finding work difficult), independence, looking for prosperity in Teffrah

Fawn (right): Providing for herself, helping her lady and wanted to get away from her abusive mother

Lydia(left): Providing for very young cousins, who were orphaned. She was able to have them sent to a school to continue their studies.

Pepper(right): Providing for her daughter and husband.

Zoe(left): Forced into being a maid after being "adopted" by lady Belliana's family, but was actually a slave since Belliana didn't pay her. Stayed in the house because she had hope that Nasir (who became Belliana's bodyguard) and her would become friends again. But they didn't.

Bridgette (Current Life) (right): Provide for family who are first generation immigrants to Teffrah, and expand her bilingual skills

Brooke(left): Retired from being an assassin after being swindled out of her money, wanted less stressful work. So she got a new identity and became a maid. Unfortunately, she ended up with a serial killer viscountess as a boss.

Muriel(right): Forced to work as a child by her abusive aunt and uncle, who took all her wages. She wanted to escape poverty.

Final Unseen Maids:

Anna-Maria (Center): For a chance at upward mobility.

Damla ( Right): To take care of her sick brother.

Moon (Left): Was trained from birth to be a maid to a noble house. The very few maid lives of Bridgette (that she's vaguely aware of) that wasn't born in this world and is from another world outside of Teffrah. She was from a seinen manga and murdered the pervert isekai'd protagonist on the spot after she found out he was trying to raise her in order to "mold her into his perfect girl".

This is the money Marge. Reblog for good fortune

the good wife

Pairing: Yandere!Husband x Reader Description: You don’t remember marrying Malcolm, but he remembers every version of you—and each time you try to leave, he brings you back. To be a good wife, he says, all you need to do is stay. Warning/s: Yandere | Gaslighting | Memory Manipulation | Captivity | Non-consensual Surveillance | Emotional Abuse | Obsessive Behavior | Psychological Horror Note/s: Heya! For those who have purchased Dark Roast so far, I'll be sending a better version once it's available. I can't provide the exact time, but in the future. ^^ Anyway, enjoy reading!

Masterlist | Dark Roast 50% OFF | Commission | Tip Jar | Taglist

The morning felt like any other—ordinary and mundane. You had kissed him goodbye like you always did, the scent of his cologne lingering long after the door clicked shut. His touch stayed too, warm and possessive as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the hollow beneath your eye, pausing there just a moment too long.

“Be good, love,” Malcolm murmured, voice low and smooth, velvet laced with iron. There was a sweetness in it. But also, a quiet command, like the smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“I will. I always am, darling,” you replied, automatic and soft. The words tasted familiar, worn from use, yet strange on your tongue. You loved him. At least… you believed you did. You had to. There was no reason not to. Not really.

He chuckled—a quiet, amused sound that always pulled a smile from you. You were trained to respond to it, like muscle memory. “I know. But still. Behave, alright?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. The silence that followed felt deeper than usual. The house swallowed him whole, leaving only you behind.

You wandered through the quiet halls, trying to shake the feeling that had started to gnaw at the back of your mind. You were often like this lately—adrift, grasping at something you couldn’t quite name. He told you it was nothing. That it was normal, considering the accident. That your memory would return in time.

Except… it hadn’t.

You couldn’t remember the day you married him. Or the way you’d met. Or why you sometimes woke up gasping in the dark, drenched in sweat, your throat raw like you’d screamed your voice away. You’d asked him once. He had smiled and kissed your forehead, whispering, “Some memories are best left buried.”

That day, the weight in your chest didn’t go away.

It was there again now, heavy and suffocating, like invisible fingers tightening around your lungs.

You wandered to the bedroom—your bedroom. Or so he said. You barely remembered how to navigate the house without thinking. But your body moved on its own. Habit. Routine. Familiarity programmed into your bones, even when your mind resisted.

The drawer in the corner of the room called to you. You didn’t mean to open it. Not at first. But your hands were already reaching for it before your thoughts caught up. The compulsion was too strong. Something inside you needed to know.

And when the drawer opened, you froze.

Photographs. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. All carefully arranged. All tucked neatly between delicate tissue paper, as if they were precious artifacts. At first, the faces didn’t register. Different hairstyles. Different expressions. Different clothes.

But the same eyes.

Your eyes.

They were all you.

Laughter frozen mid-breath. Smiles that never reached your eyes. Dresses you didn’t remember owning. Bruises you couldn’t place.

Some photos were newer. Others older. You recognized none of them, and yet they were undeniably you. A collage of versions—happy, scared, serene, desperate. But all of them shared one common trait: they were being watched. In each frame, subtly blurred in the background, a shadow lingered.

Him.

Sometimes only his hands were visible, placed possessively around your waist or brushing your hair. Other times, he was fully in frame—close, always too close—smiling with a calm, calculated gaze. The kind of smile that made your skin crawl now that you saw it from the outside.

A ribbon. A perfume bottle. A dried rose, still tied with a bow. A necklace—broken at the clasp. A fingernail. You didn’t know whether it was yours, and that uncertainty was the worst part.

And then, the flash drive. Sleek. Unmarked. Black as night.

Your hands moved like they weren’t your own. You crossed the room, plugged it in, and opened the file. A single video.

The screen flickered. Static.

And when it played, you saw a familiar face.

You.

You were strapped to a chair. No… a bed. Bare shoulders trembling, your mouth gagged, eyes wild with terror. You writhed against the restraints, muffled cries choking in your throat. You didn’t remember this. You didn’t remember this. But it was you.

Then came the voice. Soft. Steady.

His.

“You always try to leave, my love. But you never make it far.”

The camera panned slowly, almost lovingly, to reveal him sitting beside the frame. Calm. Smiling. Watching you.

“I’m not angry,” he continued. “You don’t need to remember. You don’t need to understand. You just need to stay.”

He leaned closer to the lens, his eyes dark and glinting with something sharp beneath the surface.

“I’ve loved every version of you. Every time you run, I find you. And I bring you home.”

Your blood ran cold.

“I know you don’t remember. That’s alright. I’ll remind you. Over and over, if I have to.”

The screen flickered again. Another scene. Another you. This time crying. Another version screaming. Another begging. Another… smiling.

Each version more twisted than the last. You watched as he carefully recreated scenarios—like a director obsessed with a single actress. A thousand variations of the same obsession. A thousand attempts to preserve the perfect you.

You yanked the flash drive from the port, heart hammering. Your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat. You stumbled backward—

Knock knock.

A soft, deliberate sound.

You froze.

Another knock. Louder. Measured.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You turned to close the laptop, to hide everything—but you were too slow. The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Framed in the hallway light, still in his work clothes, tie loosened, his smile too pleasant to be real.

“Love?” he called gently. “What are you doing?”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “I-I was just… cleaning.”

He took a step in. Then another. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

“You never clean in here.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

He stopped behind you, his presence a wall of heat and silence. You felt his breath on your neck. Then his hand on your shoulder, light as a feather.

“You opened the drawer, didn’t you?”

You said nothing. But the tremble in your body gave you away.

He leaned in, lips grazing your ear.

“You always open the drawer eventually.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“How many times has it been, hmm?” he whispered. “Seven? Eight? I lose count. Each time you forget, and each time you find your way back. And I… I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

You whimpered, the sound dying in your throat. His hand stroked your hair with practiced gentleness.

“It’s okay,” he said sweetly. “We’ll start over. Again. Just like before. I’ll fix everything.”

You tried to move, but he tightened his grip. That same voice, that same gentle cadence, coiled around you like barbed wire.

“You’re mine, love. You’ve always been mine.”

And this time, you weren’t sure you’d ever escape.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl

Hi by

Hi! If you are willing, can you please draw some Stupid Sexy Douman?

Where is the police?????????

Redesigned the Archon outfits! Just for fun of course ⭐️