Yandere X Y/n - Blog Posts

─ Too Tight, Too Much

yandere! luffy x gn! reader

• fic type: oneshot

• summary: you felt like a burden to the strawhat pirate who constantly grew stronger by the day, especially Luffy. So you decided to do them a service by leaving the crew, little did you know Luffy doesn't like to let go.

• word count: 2.3k

• warnings: obsessive tendencies, kidnapping, possessive physical touch [nonsexual]

• a/n: I forgot to post this, sorry chat 🧍‍♀️,, also can be read as platonic or romantic. Also also,, I tried something different w/ this writing style! ^^

The decision had been made long before you ever set foot on that island. It wasn’t a fleeting impulse, nor was it born from doubt in Luffy’s dream. You believed in him—more than anything.

But belief wasn’t enough.

You saw the way the others grew stronger, how their names carried weight across the sea, how they each carved their place into history with their own hands. Zoro’s blade could cut through steel. Sanji’s legs burned brighter than the sun. Robin could summon a thousand hands to break an army.

And you?

You had no grand ambitions, no great power. No Devil Fruit, no Haki, no title whispered in fear. You weren’t weak, but you weren’t enough.

So you made your choice.

It was easier than you thought it would be. The town was alive with music and laughter, lanterns swinging in the ocean breeze. The crew was lost in their own celebrations—Zoro and Sanji already in the middle of another argument, Usopp animatedly recounting some grand tale, Chopper stuffing himself with sweets. Luffy was in the center of it all, as he always was, grinning wildly, a beverage in one hand and a drumstick in the other.

It was the perfect moment. He was happy.

Distracted.

You turned away before doubt could creep in. Your steps were silent, your presence barely a whisper in the wind as you moved through the streets. No hesitation, no second thoughts. You told yourself you were doing the right thing.

That this was for the best.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

Luffy would never forgive you for this. And you would never forgive yourself.

••••

The island had been peaceful. A quiet little stop along the trade routes, where merchants gathered to restock their ships, exchange goods, and barter over prices with a mix of tenacity and exhaustion. The scent of salt and various spices hung heavy in the air, blending with the distant hum of the waves.

You had taken up temporary work guarding one of the ships docked there—a simple trade of protection for passage. The work was easy enough. A watchful eye, a firm stance, and most left you alone. You were a ghost passing through, a nameless traveler in a sea of transient faces.

Or so you thought.

After fulfilling your end of the bargain with your employer and receiving your pay, you found yourself wandering the market area, searching for an inn. The moment your boots met the soft dirt of the market, something in the air shifted. It was subtle at first, a prickling sensation along the back of your neck, a whisper of something inevitable.

Then you felt it—him.

His presence wasn’t loud or forceful, but it was all-consuming. Overwhelming. Undeniable. And when you lifted your gaze, there he was. Luffy stood in the middle of the bustling street, his straw hat tilted slightly back, dark eyes shining beneath its brim. His grin stretched wide, the same carefree expression you had seen a thousand times before, as if no time had passed at all.

“Y/n!”

His voice shattered the din of the marketplace, rising above the merchants’ calls and the chatter of weary travelers. It was raw, unfiltered joy—too much joy.

Your muscles tensed.

For a moment, you considered running. You could slip into the crowd, weave through the alleyways, disappear before he got any closer. You had done it before. You could do it again. But your feet refused to move.

Because to run would be cruel. Even for you.

You watched as he closed the distance between you with long, eager strides, his sandals slapping against the dirt road. His arms were already outstretched, reaching, claiming.

And then, he was there.

The force of his embrace nearly knocked the air from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you like iron bands, pulling you in against the familiar heat of his body. He smelled like the sea, like sun-warmed cotton and something undeniably Luffy.

He held you tight. Too tight.

A moment passed. Then another.

Slowly, you exhaled, allowing your hands to lift—to rest lightly against his back. Not quite returning the embrace, but not rejecting it either. Luffy made a sound—a breathy, contented sigh—as if something within him had finally settled.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers still curled against the fabric of your shirt. His eyes burned bright, his grin never wavering.

"I knew I’d see you again," Luffy said, his voice warm and bright, like he had never once doubted this moment.

His arms were locked around you, his grip firm—too firm—as if he thought you might slip away if he let go. His fingers pressed into your back, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you aware. His breath was warm against your shoulder, carrying the scent of salt and something faintly sweet, like the remnants of a half-eaten meal.

“You’re back now.”

Your lips parted, the words forming before you could decide whether you even wanted to say them. “I—”

“I missed you.”

The words came quickly, cutting off whatever you might’ve said. Luffy met your gaze, his expression unguarded, open. His dark eyes gleamed beneath the brim of his hat, wide and too bright, like the sun reflecting off the waves. There was something in them—something you couldn’t quite place—and it sent a slow prickle down your spine.

You had known Luffy since childhood. You had seen him angry, sad, frustrated. You had seen him laugh until he couldn’t breathe. But this? This was different.

And it made your chest feel too tight.

Luffy continued to grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His fingers twitched against your sleeve, then tightened, his knuckles going white for just a fraction of a second before his grip relaxed again.

"Come on," he said, his voice light, casual, like this was any other day. Like you hadn’t left. Like he hadn’t spent who-knows-how-long searching for you. "The others are here, they’ll be happy to see you!"

You opened your mouth—to protest, to ask him to slow down, to breathe—but the words never left your throat.

Because before you could decide what to say, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

And this time, he didn’t let go.

There was no force behind his grip, no sharp tug that demanded movement. But it was firm.

Unrelenting.

Final.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

That second was too long.

Luffy moved, and you moved with him, pulled effortlessly into his stride as he led you through the streets.

The market blurred around you—the murmur of voices, the clang of metal, the scent of spices and fresh bread—all of it faded into the background beneath the steady press of his hand.

People turned as you passed, their gazes flickering to the infamous Straw Hat Captain. Some whispered, some pointed, but Luffy didn’t even glance their way.

His attention was locked solely on you.

And for the first time since you’d known him, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing.

••••

The reunion was warm. Too warm.

The moment Luffy dragged you into the familiar chaos of the crew, you were engulfed. Arms thrown around your shoulders, voices overlapping, laughter echoing through the air. It was suffocating in its sincerity.

Zoro was the first to acknowledge you, though in typical fashion, he kept it brief. A smirk pulled at his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Took you long enough,” he said, voice even, as if he had expected this outcome from the start.

Nami let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand on her hip. “You owe me for the stress you put me through,” she scolded, though there was no real anger behind her words.

Just relief.

Sanji, on the other hand, was all action. The moment you were seated, a plate was shoved in front of you, the aroma of a perfectly prepared meal filling your senses. “You’re too thin, Y/n-chan,” he fussed, already halfway to the kitchen to fetch more. “Have you even been eating properly?”

Usopp puffed out his chest, his hands gesturing wildly. “You should’ve seen what I did the other day! You’d have been impressed, I swear! I took down this massive sea beast with just—” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Where were you, anyway?”

Before you could answer, Chopper had scrambled onto the chair beside you, pressing small hooves against your arm, his face scrunched in concern. “You’re healthy, at least,” he murmured, checking you over despite your insistence that you were fine.

Robin smiled knowingly from her seat, eyes studying you as if she already understood the story you hadn’t told.

Franky let out a booming laugh, giving you a hearty pat on the back that nearly sent you tumbling forward. “Took off on your own adventure, huh? Well, welcome back, bro!”

Brook, ever the performer, strummed at his guitar. “Ah, Y/n-san, I would ask if you missed me, but alas, I have no heart to feel longing, yohohoho~!”

Jinbe hummed lightly in approval, his eyes looking at you over the steaming cup of tea he'd raised towards his lips. "It is nice to have you back with it, Y/n."

It was almost too easy to fall back into place.

Almost.

Because Luffy never let go.

His eyes never left you, even as he laughed at Usopp’s exaggerated storytelling or tore through his usual mountain of food. His attention remained anchored to you, sharp and unwavering.

Every time you moved, his gaze followed. Every time you spoke, his attention sharpened. And then there was his touch. Fleeting, but constant.

A hand on your wrist when you reached for your drink. A brush of fingers against your shoulder when he leaned in to listen. The back of your shirt tugged absently when you shifted in your seat.

By the end of the night, you felt the weight of it. “I should go,” you finally said, standing up from the table. “I have a room at an inn.”

For a moment, just a second, something flickered in Luffy’s expression. A shadow, a hint of something unreadable, something wrong.

Then, just as quickly, his grin returned, wide and bright. “Alright,” he said, easy as ever. “I’ll see you later.”

Not goodbye.

Not see you around.

I’ll see you later.

But you didn’t think much of it.

Not then.

••••

You had fallen asleep easily, exhaustion pulling you under the moment your head hit the pillow. The day had been long, full of laughter and conversation, the warmth of old friends pressing in on you from every side.

You had thought you were safe.

But when you woke up, something was wrong. The air smelled different—saltier, thick with the scent of the open sea. The faint trace of damp wood and metal drifted into your senses, something familiar, yet out of place.

The bed was softer, the sheets heavier, and when you shifted, you could feel the subtle sway beneath you. The sound of waves was louder—too close, too steady.

Your stomach twisted.

Your eyes snapped open, and as your vision adjusted to the dim morning light filtering through the room, the cold weight of realization settled over you. This wasn’t the inn.

This was the Thousand Sunny.

More than that—this was the Captain’s Quarters.

Your breath came slow, controlled, even as the unease crept up your spine. You sat up carefully, scanning the space, noting every detail—your bag tucked in the corner, your shoes neatly placed by the door, as if you had never left. As if you had always been here.

The door creaked open.

“Morning!” Luffy’s voice was warm, easy, as if this were just another day on the ship. As if nothing was wrong.

He stood in the doorway, his straw hat pushed back slightly, dark hair ruffled from sleep. His grin was the same as always—wide, bright, too full of something you couldn’t name.

“Sanji made breakfast,” he added, stepping inside like this was normal.

Like this was where you belonged.

You stared at him.

Your expression didn’t change, your voice remained steady. “Luffy.” He tilted his head slightly, his bare feet padding softly across the wooden floor as he closed the space between you.

“Why am I here?” you asked. Luffy blinked, as if the question itself didn’t make sense to him. “Because this is where you’re supposed to be.”

Supposed to be.

You exhaled slowly, forcing down the cold weight pressing against your chest. “You took me from the island.”

Luffy laughed.

Not a nervous chuckle. Not a guilty one.

A simple, carefree laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You fell asleep, so I brought you home.”

Your fingers curled slightly against the sheets. “…You should’ve asked.”

“I didn’t have to.”

His certainty was unshakable. And that’s what made your stomach turn.

Luffy moved closer, his warmth radiating off him in waves. His hand landed on your shoulder, a light press of fingers—too warm, too heavy. But then, he curled his fingers.

Not enough to hurt. But enough to hold.

“Now that you’re back,” he murmured, “I can keep going.” You didn’t breathe for a moment.

Your lips parted slightly, a rare display of emotion flickering across your features.

Luffy’s grip tightened just a fraction.

“You’re my Emperor,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t be Pirate King without you.”

Your heart thumped, slow and heavy.

The weight of his words settled over you like an anchor.

Your lips parted, words forming before you could stop them. “…You don’t need me, Luffy.” He grinned. Wide. Too wide. “Yeah, I do!”

His hand slid down your arm, fingers tracing your skin, slow, deliberate. He didn’t grab. He didn’t pull.

But he didn’t let go.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, his thumb brushing lazily against your pulse.

Outside, the ship rocked gently with the waves. The world stretched endlessly in every direction, open and unreachable.

You weren’t on that island anymore.

And you wouldn’t be again.

Luffy turned toward the door, still holding your wrist, still smiling like nothing was wrong. “C’mon,” he said. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Your eyes flickered to his face, taking in the curve of his lips, the shadow in his gaze, the way he held you like he was afraid you might disappear again.

Your expression remained unreadable. But deep inside, something twisted.

This was Luffy.

And Luffy never let go.

That's What You Get (Yandere!Hawks x Pregnant!Reader)

SERIOUS WARNING: This is an extremely disturbing read with themes and topics that include: suicidal tendencies, cursing, verbal abuse, blood, self-harm, infantilism, forced pregnancy, purposeful miscarriage, descriptions of gore, physical abuse and mentions of rape.

Please read with caution as you have been warned of the heavy subjects present in this story.

You wondered to yourself what you did to deserve all of this.

What god had decided to push all their anger unto your poor, unfortunate soul with such mercilessness?

What events led you to meeting a red-winged devil pretending to be an angel?

A hot hand grabbed at your hand without warning, yanking it away from your mouth. A trail of bloodied saliva followed and you only then noticed the familiar taste of blood on your tongue.

"Can you fucking stop?" Dabi hissed, turquoise eyes glaring deep into your hazed ones. "Do you want Hawks to lose his shit again?"

Yes, is what you wanted to say. You wanted Hawks to watch as you bit into your fingers with little thought. You wanted him to see how numb you were from all his abuse. You wanted him to know that he did this.

He was the reason you were broken now.

You didn't answer his question or even bother to truly look at him, only bringing your other hand to your mouth and biting down.

Your nail cracked against your teeth and felt slight satisfaction when Dabi cursed again and had to grab both your hands to keep you from doing any further damage to yourself.

"God dammnit, Y/N!" He growled, grabbing the attention of nearby league members scattered about the hideout. "Can someone please take this stupid bitch? I am not babysitting that hero's fuck doll today!"

Entering the room with a long sigh, Mr. Compress switched places with the purple-skinned villain, a first aid kit in tow.

When Dabi exited from the room, a dry chuckle left you but disappeared just as quickly as it came.

That's how most feelings worked for you now. They'd come and go. You were never allowed to truly feel anything for longer than 10 seconds.

Compress eyed you disappointingly, "It's not funny, Y/N." He scolded as he began to wrap your fingers, "Hawks told you to take better care of yourself. The more you put yourself at risk, the harder this pregnancy will be in the long run.

You stilled at that, nausea rising to your throat at the painful memories of Hawks holding you down against the cold, tiled floor and his warm, smooth cum filling your bruised cunt to the brim despite your cries.

That was followed by many more nights painted the same way.

A month later, you found out you were pregnant after Hawks had tested your toilet water.

The bastard was happier than ever but that happiness went right out the window when he caught you attempting to throw yourself down a set of stairs later that day. You'd even looked him in the eyes as you'd started to fall.

It was too bad that he'd caught you. That fall definitely would've done the trick.

After numerous other attempts, the hero finally decided that while he was gone, someone had to be with you at all times for both you and the baby's parasite's protection.

"Done-" Compress finished wrapping the bandages around you fingers, "-Have you eaten lunch yet?"

No, you hadn't. You hadn't moved from your curled position on the couch since Hawks left way earlier that morning.

To please Compress, you ate a few bites of what he made you and sipped some of the soup Hawks had packed for you.

Soon, you were back in your corner of the couch, filling in the permanent dent that you’d made from sitting there for so long.

You shivered as you hugged yourself.

Despite wearing a sweater and leggings with thick socks, you always felt so cold. Even if you were sweating, you were still cold.

You wondered why that was.

And now that you were left alone with your thoughts, you began to wonder other things.

Was your family regretting giving you to Hawks?

How long had it been since you'd seen them?

Did they even care?

What would they think if you escaped now and showed up pregnant?

Would they even believe you if you told them what Hawks did?

They’d probably think you were a slut.

A good for nothing whore that would do anything to get money.

Your head felt like it was about to explode.

Everything felt so meaningless now.

Why did this happen to you? Why couldn't you get control of your life again?

You placed a hand on your stomach, feeling the small hump that would soon be bigger and heavier in just a few months.

And then you'd have to push it out while it tore your pussy apart. Then you'd have to heal for who knows how long, taking care of a screaming, shitting lump while Hawks goes out and lives however he pleases.

As he always has.

...

Were you really supposed to just sit here and accept that?

That's what Hawks wanted you to do.

But how the hell could you?

"Baby, I'm back!" Hawks beamed as he walked up to you, stealing a kiss to your cheek. His smiled faded slightly, however, when he saw your bandaged fingers, "Aw, (Y/N), were you biting your fingers again?"

You didn't answer. You never really did anymore, much to his annoyance.

He sighed deeply and turned to Compress, asking him about how you'd done throughout the day. His expression only soured further at the villain's words and he glanced down at you with unimpressed eyes.

"Alright, thank you guys again for watching her-" He picked you up bridal style, "We'll be back next week as discussed."

The flight home was eerily quiet. You could tell that Hawks was upset with you. But he couldn't be nearly as upset as you were. But you knew he never thought about how you felt.

Everything was always about him.

When you both got home to his condominium, he sat you on the couch, unwrapping and examining your damaged fingers.

His lips were downturned and his brows were furrowed. His golden eyes weren't as bright as they'd been previously.

He wasn't happy with you at all.

Good.

His face made you giddy for some reason and you couldn't stop the corners of your lips from twitching upwards. It was so great that you could almost laugh with genuine joy.

Hawks' snapped his eyes up to you with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Shit, you must've laughed without realizing it.

No, wait.

You were crying.

"Oh, (Y/N), it's alright.” He cooed, “I know you'll do better for me and the baby next time, right?" That was a threat and you felt your mood plunge at the mention of the baby parasite resting in you. "Right?"

"Yeah..." You mumbled robotically. You could give less shits about the baby.

Hawks wasn't happy with how you'd responded but shrugged it off with a mumble of 'pregnancy hormones' and started to make dinner.

Ever since he’d found out you were pregnant, he made you take it easy. No unnecessary movement, as he liked to phrase it.

“So…” Keigo started, washing some rice in a bowl, “you’ve got your first appointment coming up next week. How’d’ya feel?”

You touched your growing stomach underneath your loose t-shirt. Was it really time for that?

No, no this couldn’t be.

If Hawks made you wait too long, you won’t be able to get rid of it and then you’ll really be stuck.

Nausea came back full force and you retched aloud, stomach curling. You turned away from the table and threw up the little bit of lunch you’d had earlier.

Keigo was by your side in a flash, rubbing your back when you continued to retch and gag.

“The morning sickness is becoming more frequent now, huh?” He asked, “Here, rinse your mouth with some water.” His feathers brought over a small cup of water and a bowl for you to spit into.

After rinsing your mouth out, you glanced up at Keigo, something you hadn’t done in a long time and saw how he visibly brightened when you did so.

“Please, Kei… I don’t-I don’t want this.” You told him honestly, your voice heavy with misery.

He instantly frowned at that, lips turning downwards and eyes going sharp, “What did I tell you about talking like that, (Y/N)? What the hell is wrong with you?!” He snapped, feathers shaking.

You stared at him as if he weren’t there and shrugged, “I guess you won’t know until the baby’s dead.”

“You don’t mean that.” He seemed to be telling himself that because deep down… deep down he knew that you meant it. “(Y/N), you don’t mean that.”

You felt the corners of your mouth lift again, “I’m not going to my first appointment because there will be no baby. Hell, there weren’t even be a (Y/N) to take to the appointment.” Now you were really smiling, no more tears to give.

Hawks feathers shook more, a hopeless look graced his features as he brought a hand to his mouth, “(Y/N), I-“ He looked away from your wide smile and void eyes, he couldn’t stand to look at you anymore, “What is happening to you? A baby is supposed to make you happy! Why isn’t this working?”

He walked away without another word, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

A burning smell caught your attention and you stepped over your vomit puddle to turn off the chicken he was cooking on the stove.

You took the pan off the still hot burner and placed it on the back one.

If only a burn could kill you.

A glint in your peripheral vision caught your eye and you snapped your head towards the sink. Your eyes widened.

There, like the forbidden fruit, sat a large kitchen knife. You realized Keigo must’ve left it when he was arguing with you.

Now was your chance.

You gripped the knife in both your hands.

You hadn’t seen a knife in so long. Keigo had locked them up when you started ‘acting up’.

You lifted it above your head.

Deep breath in.

Hold it.

You swiftly brought the knife down into your stomach. It slid right in like butter and you surprisingly didn’t feel anything.

With a shaky breath, you looked down and stumbled awkwardly as you struggled to pull the knife back out.

Blood started to soak your t-shirt and stain it dark red. A metallic smell clung to the air and you raised the knife above your head again.

This was easier than you’d thought.

You brought the knife down at an angle and groaned, the pressure of your stab felt like a punch.

One more stab should do the trick.

“(Y/N), I got off the phone with your pediatrician,” Keigo started from the bedroom you both shared, “Turns out, you’re just going through a pregnancy depr- (Y/N)!” He screamed seeing the blood on the ground.

Feathers shot towards you and you smiled wildly as you were pinned to the ground.

Keigo turned you on your side and you let go of the knife, letting it stay in your stomach.

There was no need to do anything else. You’d gotten rid of it for good.

He sobbed loudly in your face, his eyes screaming with despair. He didn’t even recognize you anymore, just like how you hadn’t recognized him for a long time now.

His screams of why were only met with one answer.

“Because, that’s what you get.”

I've been a sucker for Poly Dabihawks/hotwings, so can I request poly dabihawks NSFW with a female darling who escaped and almost told the cops what happened but hawks just tells the cops she's drunk, they'd believe the number 2 hero more than some civilian, right? Can you make it 🍥 with collar and leash kink, hair pulling, and sadisim with burns and stuff?

AAA, I love the burnt chicken pair. And of course you can request that!

Shouldn’t have done that 🍥 🎂 🍮

MASTERLIST

Word count: 5k

Contents: Yan!Poly!DabiHawks punishing fem!darling who escapes.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NON CON, PUNISHMENTS, MANIPULATION, HEAVY SADISM, BURNING, LEASH AND COLLARING, HAIR PULLING, DEGRADATION, FEM!DARLING, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ORAL (GIVING), BRANDING.

You don’t know how much time you’ve been trapped here, considering that you had no contact with the outside world. The television doesn’t have a news channel for some reason, so you can’t figure out if the world knows you’re still alive, if the world still cares about getting you back to safety.

Tears pool at your eyes, you know Dabi will be angry if he sees you crying again. You don’t want to piss him off, he scares you. And you know that if Keigo sees you crying he’ll force cuddle you, he’ll force you to talk to him about why you are crying, and if you tell him that its because you miss the outside he’ll be the one that's pissed off.

You hiccup heavily, but something inside you sparks when you feel a current of cold air hit your back. Your breath hitches, and you run outside of your room towards the kitchen, where the backdoor is.

Its open.

Its open.

Its a trap.

Or is it?

You step outside for a second, barefooted and feeling the warm sun hit your face. You giggle at it, you’ve missed this so much, tears quickly find their way in your eyes again. 

You take another step, and another, and another, and yet another one. You start walking, getting away from the house of nightmares. You walk faster, trying to find somewhere safe, somewhere you can run to, a friends house, a family members house, something, anything. You start running, the smallest of sounds feeding your paranoia of both men running to catch you. 

You run, not caring about the curious looks of people around you. You don’t care, you need to run, you need to hide, you need to find someone who helps you. You look around, you look at the sky for the menacing silhouette of one of your captors, circling around you like a vulture at a dead animal.

You run again, your feet are burning but there’s nothing you care about except running away. There’s no compassion, nobody offers to help you, nobody offers to lend you a hand, to ask if you’re okay, this feels you with rage, but also with fear.

You keep running away, trying to find a familiar face, maybe an old teacher that you had on high school, maybe a pro-hero that wasn’t completely insane, maybe a friend you hadn’t talked to before your disappearance, that aunt you didn’t see often, the old man that sold you vegetables on the weekends, your boss, a co-worker, anything, anyone, please.

And then you saw it, a police officer. A person who could empathize with you, a person who was also quirk less and could see how to help you.

Hawks enters the house, chirping happily. He brought you your favorite food since he has seen you a bit down this last couple of days and he wants to chirp you up.

“Hey, duckling! I have a surprise for you” he places the takeout bags on the kitchen counter, curious about the fact that there’s not a single sound on the house.

‘Maybe she’s asleep’ he thinks, stepping towards the room. He doesn’t find you there ‘maybe Dabi took her somewhere, I’ll call him’ he thinks again, trying not to panic. He dials the number, the scarred man picking up quickly “ ‘sup, birdbrain?” he asks “everything alright?” 

“Is y/n with you?”

“Why would I take her with me? its not ´bring your baby to work’ day” he says sarcastically, picking up what was wrong in the situation “she’s hiding, Hawks. Don’t worry, she’s hiding on the cabinets again, I’m sure. I’ll come back there, c’mon wait for me” 

“Fine, hurry up” he sighs, hanging up, maybe he’s right, you must be hiding. He’ll let you stay there for a moment, if you come out before Dabi gets here he’ll negotiate something so you don’t get punished. 

And he gets there quick, entering the house panting. “Did she come out?” he asks trying to catch his breath, Keigo shakes his head. Dabi sighs heavily “c’mon y/n, its not funny” he yells towards nowhere “we won’t punish you, doll. Its alright” he’s telling the truth, he can understand why you’re afraid, maybe you broke a plate, maybe you spilled some water, maybe you did something stupid and you’re scared “baby, we’re gonna find you anyways, so come ou-” he can’t finish the sentence, the backdoor of the kitchen opening.

He had to fix the lock, Hawks told him.

Well shit.

Hawks doesn’t even tell him, flying out the door towards the city. You ran away, its alright, maybe you were going to tell them, maybe you were gonna buy something, maybe someone broke in and you were trying to run to safety. 

But he’s boiling in anger when he finds you, you’re trying to reach a police officer. But not so fast, he scoots you in his arms in the blink of an eye, not even giving you a chance to get anywhere near safety.

“What the hell are you doing?” his eyes are sharper than usual, and his voice is stern “better have a good explanation for this” he hisses, lifting you up high “you’re in big trouble, y/n” he keeps talking “this is probably the single most stupidest thing you could have done in your life time” he rushes towards the house “what I’m saying is...” he opens the door and uses one of his feathers to push you inside “you shouldn’t have done that”.

Dabi receives you, is usual mischievous grin is gone, it makes you shiver. He sits you down on the couch, you try to run towards your room, to hide from them, a burning hand stops you. You yell and cover your face in a reflex, Dabi can almost pity you, but that won’t stop him from doing to what he has planned.

“Well, explain yourself” he stands there with his arms closed, cocking a brow while Keigo locks all of the doors. He forces you to sit down on the couch, you’re sobbing and shaking. He has to control the urge to comfort you, to let you cry in his big strong arms while birdbrain scolds you. But he can’t do that, you fucked up big time, and you don’t deserve the treatment he wishes to give you.

You can’t explain anything you did, and you don’t even regret doing it. If only you had told the cops you would be safe by now, that's the only thing you regret about this whole situation. You sob heavily, hyperventilating and trying to find a way to demand them to let you go, tell them how much you despise them, how much you hate that stupidly kind and warm smile Keigo gives you every morning, how much you want to puke every time Dabi calls you a sweet pet name.

“I hate you!” you bark at them, red eyed and completely contrary to your docile and meek attitude. Hawks’ wings puff up, making him look more menacing than before, his eyes sharpen. And one his feathers places at your throat, sharp and ready to slice it open. Your breath hitches, you still bend and break as easily as before. He removes it from there, not a single wound on your body.

Yet.

Dabi can feel sadness and anger accumulate inside him, he grabs a handful of your hair. You yell, you scream, you plead for him to let you go, that you didn’t mean it, that you are sorry.

“You dirty fucking liar” he hisses, his grip on your hair is hard and unescapable, he throws you to the ground, your scalp hurts  and tears pool at your eyes. You hear something unbuckle, and your previously closed eyes open wide at the sound, is he going to hit you with his belt?

He sits down, still holding you in place with his hand. If you try to struggle he will hurt you badly, so you only await for what's prepared for you. He pushes his pants down, not all the way, just enough to let his semi-hard cock peek. You start crying now. Your knees are bruised from falling down forcefully, you would expect the blonde to stop him, to tell him that what he is doing is wrong and that they are the ones that should apologize.

But that moment never comes.

Dabi uses the already hard grip on your hair to pull you closer to the head of his cock, your nose and lips touch the thick length and you have to contain the urge to puke at the sight of that pierced dick in front of you. Its bigger than average and you know it, you can see little white hairs growing at his lower abdomen. Its seems hygienic enough, but you just can’t help but be so disgusted about it, maybe its because of the person carrying it.

Keigo smirks, already knowing what Dabi has in mind just by the sight of you being forced on his cock, you open your mouth reluctantly, but he shoves his length inside you quickly, making your eyes crystalize as you gag down on that piece of meat. He gets closer to you, not saying a word, just slowly unbuckling his belt as well. Dabi looks at his golden eyes, sharing a mutual pleasure of finally getting a taste of you.

They had contained themselves, wanting your first time with them to be consensual and loving, but it seems like plans have changed. Dabi pulls your hair as he pulls your mouth away from his cock, instead forcing you closer to Keigo’s. “C’mon, please him” he orders, you don’t say anything. Your eyes reflect the most anger they had ever seen someone had “be a good pet” your eyes open wide and your brows furrow “I don’t want to” you say in a thread of voice, Dabi chuckles gravely “that was an order, not a request” he says, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You open your mouth again, Dabi lets go for a second, letting birdbrain take control of the pace he is going to fuck your mouth with, you try to escape, instead earning a slap on your face, its feels as if you’ve been hit with a hot iron, you cry harder, but none of them comfort you, instead a soft hand pulls harshly at your hair. He inserts his length all the way into your mouth, neatly trimmed blonde pubic hairs tickle at your nose, but the fast pace he fucks your mouth at doesn’t allow you to focus enough on that. You’re tempted to bite down at his length, to chop it and make a bloody mess, would he kill you if you did? Was it worth it to taste your luck like that?

You decide its not, only sucking and pleasing that winged psychopath. “Gonna fill your throat so good” he groans, you internally plead that he doesn’t cum on your mouth, you just hope that he will have the mercy to not stain your insides with his filthy cum. “Watcha’ say? I wanna se her pretty little face covered in cum” he invites Dabi to join on his malicious plan, you want to scream. But when the scarred man joins him stoking his cock, and you feel him pull out, your face gets covered in cum as you gasp for the air that your lungs where craving. Sticky, hot ropes of thick white liquid stain your lashes, nose, lips, temples and every part they can reach. Those monsters on top of you have the audacity to laugh at your teary eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry birdie” Keigo pets your hair, you tense “you owed us this for what you just did, and I think you owe us even more” he whispers the last sentence, this time you tremble.

“Go clean yourself up, whore” Dabi instructs, pulling his pants up and searching for a cigarrette to smoke. You can’t move, instead hugging yourself while tears run down your cheeks. He pulls your hair again, forcing you to stand up. You cry and scream for him to let go “don’t piss me off more, go do what I told you” his eyes narrow “Or are you that dumb of a mutt that you need us to do it? Is that it? Are you just a stupid useless bitch that needs their masters to help them behave?” he asks, you kick and scream trying to free of his grip. Its a pitiful scene, your face is covered in cum and your hair is messy, your eyes and lips are puffy. He smiles at how much power he has over you “well then you should have told us” his smirk grows “we’re always happy to discipline a bad little doggy”.

You only cry and beg him to let go, you’re abruptly thrown to the ground, you curl upon yourself. Trying to catch your breath. You lift up your dress and use the skirt to clean the things that cover your face. You look at the remains attached to your skirt, and you almost gag at how disgusted you feel. Its horrible, you regret every part of this god awful day.

You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t run away, if you compliantly waited for Hawks to get home and told him in a soft voice “I think Dabi left the door open by accident, Keigo”. He would frown and ruffle your hair, and kiss your cheek “its okay, birdie. I’ll fix it in no time”. He would use his feathers to do the job, he would fix it in no time and would feed you with whatever those take out boxes had inside. It would be a nice day, he would let you watch television while cuddling with him. When Dabi came home Keigo would scold him, you would giggle at their fight without them noticing.

“Stupid burnt piece of shit! You left the door open, what if something happened to y/n?? What if someone entered and took her away? You’re lucky they waited for me to get here and fix it”

“Well, you could have closed the door yourself, not my fucking fault” he would smirk as he exhales smoke purposefully on Keigo’s face.

You would kindly ask them to stop fighting, Dabi would sigh and kiss your forehead “don’t worry doll, I won’t kill this stupid bird man” he would smile “yet” he would whisper high enough for Keigo to hear, you would giggle again, this time he notices. His blush and anger disappearing and being replaced with a soft smile.

Maybe if things had been different this situation wouldn’t be happening. They would lovingly caress your body, Keigo would place some soft kisses on your shoulders while hugging you from behind, you would feel his pretty cock rubbing at your back and ass. Dabi would place his thick warm fingers inside you, spreading you open as he coos how pretty you look all flustered.

Keigo would help Dabi force his cock in while he is inside, taking you both at the same time. Your glistening pussy stretched out so lovingly that all of the pain of the double penetration would be forgotten. A sweet night of love making.

But that day would never come, not since you did this.

That’s the worse part, you could have avoided this and you knew, but still chose to obey that primal and irrational part of your brain, Did you even stand a chance of getting away? Would the number two hero leave you alone? Would he even be arrested? As you analyze the situation further you realize how much of a mistake you have made, how wrong it was to do this, how bad you had fucked up.

“I’m sorry” you mumble, hoping it would make things right “you should be” Dabi answers. Hawks seems to have disappeared, you can’t feel his presence nor hear his voice. Quickly there’s a sound at the door, Hawks drops a bag on the ground. Dabi stands up, inspecting what he bought with a smile.

The blonde uses one of his feathers to lift you up and bring you close to both of them. He uses both of his hands to hold you in place, not that you would have tried to run anyways, the burning feeling on your cheek reminds you that you should stay still. “Since you wanted to be a disobedient mutt so bad we bought you this” Dabi smiles, placing something on your neck. You know what it its, and you can’t believe this is happening to you. A collar, pastel pink, with little hearts to make the illusion of spikes, the shackle is also heart shaped, its bigger and it seems it has been designed for a matching leash.

Hawks lets go of you, a feather on your throat reminding you yet again to not do anything stupid. He places the matching leash on the shackle, he lets you hold the leather piece on your hands, its pastel pink as well, it has your name branded on it. You look at it with pure horror, not knowing what to do or say, your eyes tear up again as Dabi snatches the leash away from your hands, he pulls at it without a warning making you trip, he catches you in his arms before you fall “careful” he teases, and you contain the urge to fall on his arms completely, to let go and just give them the opportunity to take all of you for themselves just like they wanted, to own your body, mind and soul in exchange of a gentle treatment, of a warm bath and a nice meal. But you don’t, you tremble in his arms as he chuckles again “such a little cry baby” he says, he makes you fall to your knees. And both of them are standing tall in front of you, menacing and completely over powering yourself.

“C’mon, mutt” a deep voice gets you out of your mind, startled you look at them “give us a show, you still owe us something for doing that” Keigo smiles, he tugs at the leash, making you remain on all fours. You don’t really know what to do, there’s nothing you can say, only breathing heavily as you start to panic. But they don’t give you time for that, he tugs at the leash again, and your brain engines start to slowly function “you want me to be your dog?” you ask with a shaky voice “yeah, and for starters: bitches don’t talk” Keigo responds, eloquently as always “so better start acting like one and bark” he says. You start crying “I don’t want to! You can’t make me!” you protests, but earn another wave of laughter at you “Aw, we can’t? Pretty sure there’s a million ways we can break you” Dabi hisses with a smile “so... are you gonna cooperate? Or do we have to give you a little incentive?” that last word makes you feel a fear you have never felt. You don’t want to find out what kind of incentive they’re referring to. It could be violence, it could be drugs.

It could be the death of you.

You gather all of your strength, you gather all of your will ‘I won’t break, I won’t break, I won’t break!!!!’ your mind tells you to run, to fight, to find a weapon, but it also yells, it yells ‘be compliant, be nice, be obedient and maybe you won’t get hurt, and maybe things will go back to normal’ and you decide to listen to that part of your brain, its rational, its something that could work. And so you crawl on all fours closer to them, you’re blushing, you’re crying.

And you’re barking.

You bark, you wiggle your ass in lack of a tail, your tongue is lolling out of your mouth as you pant, hoping its good enough. And it pleases them, watching you loose all of your dignity to make them feel happy, to keep your integrity. Are you enjoying yourself while doing it? Probably not, and that awakes something dark in the back of their heads. 

Still, they just watch you put up that pathetic show in front of them, its not even arousing to them, just funny to watch. And they wonder, should they have resorted to breaking you like this a long time ago? Probably not, you weren’t actively disobeying or disrespecting them. But in the back of their heads there’s something that tells them that they should have. Is it curiosity? Or that morbid feeling that accompanies it? There’s just something that they were craving from you and maybe this was what they wanted. 

You stop, sobbing heavily and covering your face with your hands. They already saw you cry, but there’s something in here that makes you feel more vulnerable, is it the fact that your skirt is covered in their semen? That your face has the hand print of one of them? Or is it the fear that Keigo will actually slice your throat open this time? You don’t really want to find out, you don’t really want to know what is it that you fear so much this time.

It just feels so different, you were already afraid, you were already scared, terrified even, of what they could do to you. You were prepared for anything because of this, to get robbed, sold, raped, anything remotely bad that could happen to you. You were already mentalized for it, just not this, anything but this.

It wasn’t the sexual aspect of it that disgusted you so much, it was how vulnerable it made you feel, how naked you feel, how exposed, how deprived of any free will you have been ever since this whole thing started. And it was the guilt, you were feeling guilty about doing this, not only because of the punishment you were receiving, because of what you did. Was this the start of Stockholm syndrome? Maybe it was, you felt guilty. You felt guilty because you could see the sadness in Keigo’s eyes whenever you assumed the bitter memory of you escaping and almost telling someone came back to his head. Because you could see how Dabi wanted to stop this and comfort you, you could see it in his body language, how he bit his lip harshly at the sight of you on the floor, with a slap mark that he caused.

You were guilty because you caused them pain, you caused them harm. Were you the one to blame for this? You didn’t really know, it was all so confusing. 

And you heard them sigh, one of them at least. There wasn’t a tug at the leash, just a pet to your head. You looked upwards, facing the black haired man giving you a warm smile, you cried again, your  lip wobbling as you hugged his legs. “I’m sorry!” you screamed, because you were. 

Hawks was crying to, he hated to cause you pain, and he knew Dabi did as well. It left a bitter taste on their mouth, considering how much they were harmed as children and even as adults, they hated to cause you any sort of pain. They were the ones feeling guilty, they just wanted to stop this.

Dabi helped you get out of your dress, tossing it away as Hawks searched for something more comfortable to put you on. You were naked, but you felt less vulnerable and exposed than before. Keigo entered with an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, it looked comfortable enough. But just when he was about to help you get dressed Dabi stopped him. Keigo arched a brow, silently asking him what the fuck was he doing. 

Dabi stared at you with his ice cold eyes, wondering if what he was about to do was right. Your punishment had ended, but he still felt that he had to do it.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, loud enough for both of you to hear it. Hawks blinked twice in confusion, what was he apologizing for. But when he felt the heat emanating from his body he knew exactly what he was about to to.

And the idea didn’t sound as bad as he thought. It would only hurt for a bit, and it was worthy it. The bitter flavor on his tongue returned, and he frowned as he used his arms to bend you over and hold you in place, ass up and face down. You panicked, your breath hitching once again, you didn’t put up a fight, instead wondering when would you hear the belt unbuckling once again, and when would you feel your cunt being forced open by Dabi’s cock.

But that moment never came “please, stay still” his low baritone voice resounded in every single part of your mind. You felt heat close to your ass cheeks, and you wondered what you were about to feel, and as a hot finger started tracing something you could feel the worst pain you have ever felt. It traced a letter, you screamed, ear piercing and throat soaring scream. Hawks grip tightened, as he sent some of his feathers to hold you further in place. You tried to move your hips but it was useless, you were firmly held in the spot. You kept screaming, as he slowly traced his burning hot fingers on your soft flesh, it was as if time had stopped, painfully slow as he branded your ass. You wondered what it said, if it was something derogatory, your mind went away and then came back. Was it the sudden cold that hit the burning mark on your skin? It stinged, it burned so hard you wondered if this is what cattle felt like whenever they were marked. 

Tears rolled down your eyes, sobbing heavily as you wondered why were they doing this. Did they find joy in the enormous amount of pain you were being put through? There were so many thoughts and so many questions. Hawks’ grip softened, as he hushed your cries. They switched places, Hawks’ feathers never left the spot that they kept you trapped in, you felt something sharp now, opposed to cold in the unmarked place of your other ass cheek, you gasped when the tip of said sharp object started to dig into your skin, making you cry again, you didn’t beg them to stop, only letting him finish his already started job. You could hear him sob as he continued moving the sharp blade on your doughy skin. You cried harder, as you felt blood dripping down your thighs and exposed sex. And when he finally removed the blade after tracing a set of patterns that you couldn’t figure out entirely, but assumed were letters. You fainted, your mind left your body and you fell limp on the now stained silk linen bed sheets.

You felt so exhausted, you didn’t have any dreams on that state you were suspended in of pure nothingness. You just couldn’t feel anything, any emotions or any kind of pain were simply devoided from your already broken mind.

You woke up alone, when you tried sitting down on the bed you yelped in pain, when you tried to massage the sore region you found it to be even more painful, you curled upon yourself, breathing slow and deep in an attempt to stand up with the little strength you had. Memories from yesterday flooded your mind. Little bit of sunlight entered through the closed window, you looked outside, you weren’t were you used to be. You focused your eyes, only finding a dim sky, cloudy and dull. You sighed, there wasn’t the small patio in the back of the house as before. Instead a plain of grass and a couple of trees standing in the way of your eyesight.

You stood up, staring at the outside trying to figure out where the hell were you. You jumped in surprise when you heard someone open the door of the room.

“Hey, dove” the blonde smiled “I see you like the view” he says with a soft voice, he brings you a glass of water, your throat feels raw as you thank him. 

“Where are we?” you ask.

“Far away” he responds

Dabi enters the room shortly after, his eyes reflect pain and guilt but you don’t comment on it. 

“I want- I want to take a shower please” you say, expecting them to lead you to the bathroom “No can do, doll” Dabi answers “it will hurt badly, in about a week or so you’ll be able to, but for now you should wait” he kisses your hand, making you blush.

“Is it because-”

“Yes” he seems to not want to talk about it, you don’t insist “you’re gonna be here from now on” he states “just can’t risk you running away again” his voice lowers by the moment.

You don’t know what to say, its not like you would try to run away again, after that “I understand” you respond. Hawks smiles at this, at least you understand the situation and won’t do anything stupid.

Like yesterday.

He doesn’t even want to remember it, he feels cruel, he feels like a bad person. It must hurt, your skin was branded and carved with both of their names. But it was worth it, now you’ll never be able to escape, not without a mark of who you belong to.

Them.

Forever.

I hope you enjoy this, darling

Have a great day/night

Hi there. Would you be willing to write a fic where ethan landry and the reader (female) are friends? Ethan is obsessed with the reader and wants to be more than friends. Reader doesn't know that Ethan is ghostface and she walks down an alley at night just to see Ethan killing her boyfriend. He then witnesses her freak out while trying to call the police. He then kidnaps her and shows her how much he loves and that he would continue killing for her.

He's a liar, open your eyes !

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

CW/TW: description of a dead body, kidnapping, mention of suicide(not you), manipulation, voyeurism, insults

I feel like it's too repetitive. I don't know why my things always end up being so long. (03/07/2023) (9062 words)

Damn, why does this lesson has to be so hard ? You don't understand a thing ! Hell, that's why Ethan's here. Seriously what even is economic policies ? Did you learn that ? The teacher keep telling everyone this chapter was taught last year. How ?

Ethan comes back ten long minutes later from the bathroom, a sheepish smile on. His cheeks are red and he wears an almost stupid smile. You never saw someone so happy to use the bathroom before.

You notice something poking from his pocket. Did he really take a piss with a pen in his pocket ? He can chill, you're not going to steal it from him... Though, you smile at him fondly, softened by his nerdy behaviour.

"Did you make progress ? He asks.

-You're really asking ?"

You notice that his hair are a little disheveled. It's probably time to pack your things. You've been talking for a while now. He laughs slightly at your irony.

"You really don't know how to wash your hands, do you?"

His face flash you a deep shade of red as he looks down at his pant. You weren't really making fun of him. You just found it funny how he had a single water stain beside his zipper. Embarrassed, he hide the spot with his hands.

He quickly sits back at his place. Immediatly abandoning your lesson, you put it away. Your whole attention back onto him. You were previously gossiping about this man in your class. Rumor has it that he sleeps with his teachers for good grades. Ethan and you were trying to figure out if it was true or not.

It wasn't that important but it allowed you to talk freely. Ethan and you were close but weren't hanging out together that often. But he was really nice and an excellent friend, you liked to talk to him mindlessly like now.

"But on the other side he could juste be a good student. I can't really tell... Plus, some teachers actually don't really like him. You ever saw him be weird around a teacher?"

You noticed it but had tried not to embarrass him by asking but Ethan was acting a little different. As if in his own world, in a bliss you couldn't quite understand. He was looking at you with a fond smile and hadn't uttered a word. Differently from before.

"Are you okay ?" You decide to ask.

You almost feel bad for getting him out of his bubble. He widens his eyes, stuttering things you don't understand before sighing.

"Actually I....

-Yes ?

-I just wanted to let you know that..."

You look at Ethan, smiling to encourage him to continue. You don't quite get why he's suddenly back to his shy demeanor. He was doing pretty well until then.

"It-its... Like... We, the-the both of us, we've known each other for a really long time now and uh..."

When he was finally going to spit his thoughts, the door of your apartement open wide. Ethan stops abrutptly talking while you divert your attention from him. Your boyfriend was here. He didn't told you he was coming but you were at a stage in your relation which you didn't need to. Your boyfriend of almost one year stare nastily at Ethan seated next to you. You sigh, he knew Ethan would come today, you had told him. Why is he being so mean about it ?

You were supposed to be studying for a group project but when you started talking about a book you read, Ethan and you did nothing but study. Book talk turned into gossiping and finally nothing was done. You talked for hours about everything and anything. Then, there was a long silence before Ethan looked like he had something really big to tell you.

"Hi, didn't know he was still here. says your jaded boyfriend.

Here we go again... You clench your jaw, sensing he was going at it, for the umpteenth time.

-Do you need that many times to study? he says in a false disinterest.

-Yes, we do." you say coldly.

He was being rude and you didn't like it. Ethan was your friend. The least he deserved was respect. You invited him here. He was a guest. If anything, your boyrfriend should be rude to you.

"It's pretty dark outside, man. You should go. it was a fake advice, he wanted him to go.

Before you could lecture him about his rudeness, Ethan stands up. He gathers his things, eyes avoiding yours and cheeks red. You look disappointly at your boyfriend.

-Ethan you don't have to go, we can...

-N-no it's okay, it's late anyway, I'm... I'm gonna go. See you tomorrow ?" he tells you in a small voice.

You sigh out his name, embarrassed that your boyfriend would throw him out like that. So you decide to accompany him outside. You spent the few minutes of the route apologizing. He ketp saying it was okay, laughing lightly. But he was still meek. You were scared the bad behaviour of your boyfriend had made him distant. Bitterly, you let him walk away not without apologizing once again to him. You had to make it up to him later.

It was weird. Your boyfriend wasn't the posessive type, at all. You could go out butt naked that he'd tell that you're pretty. You could have as many friends as you wanted, male or female. He was normal, a normal man and your relationship was sane. But as soon as Ethan was mentionned, he was acting like this.

Your boyfriend thought he was playing the victim on purpose. According to him, Ethan wanted to separate you both. He was making your boyfriend the evil monster of the story when in reality, Ethan was manipulating you. You didn't know where he invented all that but it wasn't funny.

Ethan was an old friend. Old because you had known him for a long time. He wasn't exactly your bestfriend but you knew if you had some serious problem, he'd be happy to help. And vice versa. He was nice and never hurt anyone.

When you two met, his laces were undone and he fell on you. It was the 'worst day of his life'. You've know each other for years, now. But your boyfriend still wasn't trusting him.

When you enter back your apartement, nothing changed. He was stil in the middle of the livingroom, arms crossed on his chest. A scowl on the face. You slam the door shut.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you ? you immediatly start.

-I swear on my life I saw him smile. When you weren't looking he...

-Shut it, I'm tired. Don't wanna argue." you say, closing your eyes. Wanting to avoid a headache.

He says nothing, noticing your really tired expression. Compassionate, he opens his arms. Although hesitating at first, you dive right in. Angry but still loving him. You'd talk another day. Maybe understand where this hatred he hold against Ethan come from.

The next morning, everything was already forgotten. Well, not entirely. You were late and didn't have time to question your partner. You were both in a rush, grabbing breakfast to eat on the way and running to your class. Still, you knew you needed to have a talk with him. But it had to wait for now.

Frowning your brows in the bathroom, you tamper everywhere near the sink and the drawer but still can't find your toothbrush. You call out to your boyfriend in the kitchen. Asking him if he saw it or touched it recently. Though you don't understand why he would move your stuff.

"Where did you last put it? he asks, the question was silly but you appreciate his will to help. Why would you put your toothbrush anywhere else than in your damn bathroom ?

-On the sink, as usual."

It's weird though, you already lost it twice this month. Well, you got other one but if you could keep them as long as possible that'd be nice. You could've sworn you put it on the sink ! Where the hell did it go ? You really are tired.

Anyway, you think, you have to go. You and your boyfriend depart from the apartment and quickly arrive at destination. You kiss each other goodbye, and separate from each other. Thursday is usually a tough day since you can't see him much. But he promised you he was sleeping at your place tonight, too.

The day was a boring one. Nothing to entertain yourself. You went to your class, you took notes, you left class and so on. Even your friends were dying of boredom. Your boyfriend and yourself didn't get to spend much time with each other today as he was studying. But finally, you could go home. He sent you a text ten minutes ago, asking you to wait for him beside the entrance. And you did.

You only wanted one thing, go home and sleep. You stretch your muscles and sigh of tiredness. He usually is done studying at five on thursday. You juste have to wait five to ten minutes more.

You take out your phone to mindlessly scroll on it when a curly head appear in your field of view. Ethan already saw you, he's waving shyly at you. You smile happily and put your phone back in your pocket. Walking towards him, you observe how he seems so tired.

"Rough day ?" you ask him and he chuckles lightly, nodding his head. "You're okay, still ?

-Yes, don't worry. I'm fine. And you? Did you have a nice day ? It was cute how eager he was to talk to his friends, nervermind his state.

-I'm always fine when you're so kind to me. He smiles sheepishly, looking to the ground. You hope he understood you were joking and you didn't make him uneasy. Are you waiting someone ?

-Oh, yeah. I'm actually waiting for Chad to...." He trails off while looking at something behind you, his smile fading.

Worried, you furrow your brows before turning around only to see your boyfriend. Your smile instantly comes back. You would have hugged him if Ethan wasn't here. You weren't too much of a fan of PDA. Your partner's face seem closed, weird considering he's always happy when you're going home.

"Let's get home. he simply says.

Can't he see you're talking to someone ? You waited a few minutes for him, he can do the same.

-Wait a moment I'm talking to... he interrupted you, without listening to your words.

-I'm really tired, babe. Let's get home, now.

-We're all tired, I'm just asking you to wait a few...

-Just let's get home. he says coldy and you stop talking.

You look at him sternly. Since when does he give you any orders ? Since when does he forces you to listen to him? You have the right to talk to your friend, why does he deter you to do so ? You just want to talk to your friend two more minutes, is that too much to ask ?

-She doesn't want to, you can't force her... try Ethan, wanting to support you.

-Don't fucking talk to her, okay? he snap. You're not part of the damn conversation so just stay the fuck out of it. I know who the hell you are and what you're doing. Don't fucking talk to us you sociopath. you almost could see the smoke coming out of his ears.

Your heart stop seeing Ethan so humiliated and a ringing echo through your body. You were speechless. That's it, you decide. He doesn't have any right to talk to someone like that. He has to calm down because you are not staying with a violent man, whether he is towards you or someone else ! You step before Ethan to face your partner. You never saw him raise his voice at someone before but you don't like it.

-What the hell is wrong with you?

First he's rude to him when he's litteraly a guest and now he plainly insult him ? You were going to apologize to Ethan but when you searched him, you realized he disappeared. Fuck, you thought, he was that affected ? You can't blame him, you'd probably be as insulted as him in his case. But now you just feel like the worst person ever.

-Why do you hate Ethan so much?

He opens his mouth, searching his words as if not knowing where to begin. His eyes were screaming obviousness. As if for him, every reasons were easy to find to justify his hate.

-Because he's a creep. he agitates his hands to prove his point. Open your eyes, can't you see he's flirting with you ? He's trying to separate us !

-I guarantee you he's not. He's just shy! He's like that with everyone! You're seeing things ! You know what ? I won't tolerate your disrespect any longer. You ever saw me insult your friends ? No, never. Then why do you feel free to do so ? Seriously what is wrong with you ?

He is taken aback by the seriousness you take to discuss this subject. It's not even about Ethan anymore, it's simply about his rude behaviour. He needs to understand that you are not forgiving everything just because you're together.

-He's not just shy. He's really really creepy. He's constantly staring at you. He's on the verge of drooling ! He's sending me fucking death glare ! I tried to override it but it's been one year ! He did not change !

You almost laughed out loud. Ethan ? Sending death glare ? He can't even look at poeple in the eyes. Threathening them ? Just unimaginable. He's inventing things again and it's terribly annoying.

-Will you stop ?

-How can I stop ? He hates my guts ! he softens his tone. I love you, okay ? I'm incredibly in love with you and that's why this guy get me worried sick. He is not normal. If we were in a horror movie, he'd be the type to hide bodies in his basement ! I swear he hides something.

It's true that you don't know Ethan that much. But right now, he wasn't in your mind. You were only thinking about the fact that your boyfriend wanted to forbid you something. And that was the problem. He could tell you to be careful, to avoid being alone with him. But not ordering you to stay away from him. You weren't a child. And you're not stupid, you know the people your befriend. If Ethan was weird, you would have seen it by now.

-I love you too, you said heartly. Really. But Ethan is a nice guy. If he tries anything, I'll tell you right away. But I am not stopping from seeing him. You can't tell me what to do. You know that.

Your boyfriend clench his jaw but nods reluctantly. He doesn't like this deal but if he contradicts you, the argument will worsen and he didn't want that right now. You tried to share the wrongs, even if you find it difficult in your side as you don't know what you did, to ease the situation. You loved your boyfriend, you didn't want it to end on a stupid quarrel. Though, you knew you probably hurt him by doubting of him.

You'd ask him to apologize to your friend but it would be too much and you thought he'd do it himself when everything calmed down. Eventually. You came back home without him, crashing on your couch face first and breathing in it for a few minutes before getting up.

You were overthinking so much your head was hurting you. After a burning shower to ease your nerves (it didn't work), you decided to call Ethan to ensure he was okay. Guilt was eating you alive. You needed to apologize. He left before you could do so.

After the first ring, Ethan picks up. You panic. You don't really know what to say now, you hoped he wouldn't pick up so you could just leave a vocal message. You thought that a simple text wasn't enough and don't show the honesty of your words.

"Hey. he says as awkwardly as in real life.

You didn't know where to begin.

-You're okay? you ask and you hate yourself for asking that so bluntly.

He doesn't answer. You were thinking back on the face he made after being insulted, the humiliation, the utter mortification he felt. Your words are nothing, the wrong is already done. But you hope they'll help him feeling better. Even if just a little. Ethan is silent.

-Listen, I... you start.

Better apologize now before he hates you too.

-I'm sorry about my boyfriend. Like really. I... I don't know why he's acting like that. I talked to him but...

-It's okay, I'm used to it by now, you know ?

Guilt wasn't even enough to express your feelings. He's used to it ? That's not reassuring at all. In fact, you want the ground to open under you, to chew and swallow you. You were a horrible friend for letting your partner lower his self esteem like this.

-God, don't say that... It sounds horrible.

He laughs but he's not amused.

-If he does it again, and I hope he won't but just in case, you can bite back. You can insult him, too. I can give you insults he doesn't like if you want !"

This time, he truly laughed. A real chuckle and you were happy. You were happy your friend didn't hate you. You continued to talk long time after that. Eventually, you hung up, feeling tired. But with a smile nonetheless as you knew things were slowly getting better.

The next morning, you did your routine. With your new toothbrush in hand, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You had bags under your eyes. You were happy the week end was coming. Tomorrow is saturday, the week is finally completed. You felt enough stress for a whole month after that. You needed to rest.

You spit in the sink and wash your mouth with water. Raising your head again, you look if you still have toothpaste on your face when your body freeze. Are you dreaming or is there something behind your mirror ? You swear you just saw a red dot flashes.

You stop moving completly, eyes glued to the mirror. Three minutes pass wihtout anything new. Are you really that tired ?

Maybe it's just the reflection of the twinkling fire protection system ? The point is red too, after all. In any case, you're tired. You don't need others problems for today. You'll have to ask your boyfriend about it. If he stops sulking. Either way, you're curious. You'll try to take off the mirror another time. Tonight maybe, if you don't forget about it until then.

Later this day, you still hadn't talk to your boyfriend and the mirror thing had disappeared from your mind. As if life wanted to keep you occupied to avoid thinking about your problems, the morning classes were only tests. You hoped you did good because it didn't fell like it.

It was already noon and you were searching for your friends. They told you they'd be waiting for you in the cafeteria. You came out late of your last class so you needed to speed up a little. The halways are already crowded at this hour, more than usually it is. You sigh thinking about the long journey you'll have to make to join your friends. You'll have to dodge every rushing students, find your ways through everyone and hope something is good in the today's menu.

You start searching for someone you know in the crowd to mentally support you on this long day and you recognize the tall curly man named Ethan going to the bathroom in the opposite direction of yours. Damn, you sigh, you wanted to ask him if he could send you his notes for econ.

You texted your friends, saying that you'll meet up with them later. Your boyfriend still hadn't text you. He was mad at you, after all. In your opinion, you did nothing wrong. He's the one who put a target on Ethan's back. You recognize one can be jealous but damn, he can't disrespect your friend like that forever. He can't make hasty assumptions on people and then forbiding you to talk to them.

That's why you wanted someone to accompagny you to the cafeteria. Now, you're alone with your thoughts and you're overthinking. You didn't allow him to explain himself, but on the other side he didn't really try to. His reasons are unfounded. He was quite closed up on the subject.

You do not have to appreciate someone but why does he hate him ? That's another level. He even called Ethan a sociopath ! Why ? The common area wasn't so far from you anymore. You grab your phone, ready to send a text to your friends when someone suddenly rush into you. Your phone fall on the ground and you curse under your breath.

Looking up, the person already left. You grab your phone quickly and search behind you to know who pushed you this hard, only to see some curly hair, again. Wait, if you saw him going in the opposite direction, how did he end up stumbling on you ? He ran or something ?

-Ethan? you call after him and he stops in his track. you approach him. Why are you in such a rush... Oh.

And then you see it, the pink spot stuck in his hair. Gum, Ethan has gum in his hair. Obviously, it wasn't supposed to be here. You understand his embarrassment now, you wouldn't like to be seen like this too.

-Oh, Ethan...

At your change of tone, he reluctantly moves his body in your direction and lift his gaze towards you. An embarrassed expression clearly on display. You're suddenly really close to him staring at his stuck hair.

-Its... It's nothing, really ! He laughs awkwardly. I'll get it off, eventually.

-No, come here. you wanted to make it quick as to avoid him being stared at by people.

Head low in shame, Ethan follows you to the bathroom where you wetted his hair as much as you could. You thought that if you helped him, he'd understand that you're really not okay with your boyfriend's ideas of him. By helping him, you show him that you're still his friend and you're sorry for the behaviour of your partner. Acts are louder than words. Ethan's head was heavy in your hands, as if he was resting it against your palm. He probably was but your hair were a calming area for you too, so you understand. When your boyfriend scratch your head, you're out like a light.

-How did you get gum in here ?

He doesn't answer. The worst was already on your mind; is Ethan bullied ? You're not in highschool anymore but people are still mean and Ethan is a perfect target, he's a shy guy with little friends. He's usually the kind of people meanie make fun of.

-Did someone do this ? you ask while untangling his curls.

Ethan lower his face, eyes staring straight onto your phone screen where a picture of you and your boyfriend was on display. His gaze staying a little too long on your partner's face. With a bitter laugh, he shakes his head.

-You won't like the answer."

Something deep in you was telling you your boyfriend had something to do with it. After all, it was as if Ethan was giving you hints at this point. But you still believed in the kindness of your partner. He was never mean, physically at least. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But at the same time, he changed a lot recently, surprising you and not really in a good way. Could it really be him ? Ethan saw your hesitation since he smiles sympatheticly, understanding you.

"Don't be too mean on him, it's not important anyway. It's just gum."

And it was all you needed to hear before calling your boyfriend as soon as gum was out of the way. You asked him to come to your place when his classes were done.

Ethan texted you later on with all the sincerity in the world, 'is he violent with you? you can talk to me, you know? He can't force you to do anything. i'm here for you.' His words triggered certains thoughts in you, thinking that yeah, he wasn't like this when you first talked to him. And that's how every violent man start. By establishing rules in a relationship. Rules only relevant to one person in the couple. By getting angry more often.

By manipulating you with your feelings. It was too soon to really know if he was in fact getting violent but at the same time you didn't want to stay long to discover it.

When he came home this night, he knew something was off. You were seated on the couch, staring at the black screen of the TV. Your arms were crossed over your chest. Tonight was the big talk time.

As soon as the door slam shut, you start.

"Where were you at noon ?

He rises a brow, laughing nervously at your sudden question. He didn't even get the time to place down his bag.

-At my club ? You know I'm always there at this time.

You were afraid he was lying to you. One of your friend, in the same club as him, joke to you about how your arguments got to him so hard that he didn't even bother to come. Well, she said that she herself didn't stay long today but that's all you needed to know. He wasn't at the club.

-I didn't see you, that's all.

-You came to see me ? I was late. I joined the club ten or fifteen minutes later. Something happened?

You wonder if you should just spit it out. It would take a weight off your shoulders and appease your nerves. Yes, you'll just spit it out. You need answers.

-Ethan, as soon as his name leave your mouth he sighs, yeah, exactly, him, again. Someone put gum in his hair today. It was impossible to get rid off. One day after you insulted him. Crazy coincidence.

-Are you accusing me ? he asks in disbelief. You invited me over to argue ?

-I just want to hear where you were at noon today.

-It's not me, okay ? he says in a defensive tone. I don't like him but I'm not an asshole. I know he's your friend, I wouldn't do that to him.

-I know, but recently you've been acting really weird around him so I'm starting to ask questions. I'm going to ask this once and I want you to be honest with me. you take a pause, gauging his reaction. he simply waits for you to continue. Are you the one bullying Ethan ?

-I'm not ! Hell, why would I do that !

He's hurt seeing you so little convinced. He shakes his head and frown his brows. He's standing right before you now. He's panicked as if he knows your relationship depends on this discussion.

-I get it now, he says seriously. He accused me, right ? I don't blame you for listening to him, he's a good friend to you, okay. I get that. But he's sabotaging your life, he's sabotaging our relationship. You can't just believe everything he says. I don't like him, that's a fact. But I never put shit in his hair. And I never will. Don't you understand what's happening ?

He kneels before you and takes your hands in his, his warmth enveloping your body. He looks up at you with pretty sad eyes and you know you won't last long.

-Each time we argue, it's because of him. It's because he's always stuck to you, because he always does or says something.

-Or because you hold a stupid grudge toward him for no reason.

-No reason ? He gives me the creep !

-That's what I'm saying, you have no reason ! contradicting him allowed you to avoid looking into his eyes. Because if you did, you'd forgive him far too quickly.

-Baby, please, listen to me. He's not what he makes you think he is. He's a vicious manipulator. I can't prove it now with anything else than my words but I'll prove it to you. I don't know how yet but I promise. He sounded so desperate he had you doubting about everthing.

-I have to think about it."

Even though he wanted to convince you more, he understood your state of mind and decided not to push his luck. Sadly, he let go of your hand. And that was it.

He did not sleep here tonight, either.

When you woke up, you felt alone for the first time in a while. A bitter feeling lingering in your throat. All day, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone. It was saturday, you usually go out with your friends but you were not in the mood today.

After emptying your head and forgetting your feelings on social media for hours, you decided you couldn't stay angry at your partner for an eternity. So you sent him a text offering him to come tonight to discuss. He accepted surprisingly quickly. You spent the rest of the day cleaning your apartment. As if it was your first date and you wanted to make a good first impression.

You just wanted to spend a chill night with your man.

A movie was already planned for his arrival. You had cleaned every spot of your house. You were wore and now wanted to relax. Weirdly enough, something in you was telling you that the night wouldn't be as relawing as you wanted it to be. You didn't really know why. Maybe you'd be arguing again ? Maybe he'd leave you ?

You couldn't quite pinpoint the feeling you had.

You check your phone one last time, 'i'm almost there' he texted. But his message was sent already fifteen minutes ago. And the way to your apartment clearly wasn't that long. You decided to waste time until he eventually arrives by going to the nearest store. He had your keys anyway, if you arrive after him. You'd buy snacks to eat together there. And so that's what you did. You bid bye to the cashier and went back on your path. Suddenly, you realized how late it is. The alley was really dusky. Was it that dark when you left ?

You grab your phone, still no responses. What's taking him so long ?

Walking slowly in the dead of the night, you hear nothing but car in the background. Your own feet echo in the alley, you hit a bottle that's sent against the wall and you jolt before cursing. You're paranoid. Nothing's here. You grab once again your phone, no answer. He still isn't here ? Okay, maybe you're impatient here. But twenty minutes to arrive ? It's usually fifteen at best !

Deepening yourself slowly down the alley, you start to hear muffled voices. Two people. You hope it's not creepy men who'll follow you. Though, you're sure it isn't when the voices seem to be arguing.

You stop walking, trying to understand if you were in danger or not. It would be really stupid to get involved in a gang fight or simply in a fight. You though the two men would be drunk, since people arguing in a dark alley in night isn't that common for sober people(well, in your opinion), but they were not.

Approaching slowly, you realise you understand every one of the words they're echanging. Though, it's not reassuring.

"I always knew you were a fucked up little bitch..." you hear someone hiss.

Now what's happening ? It's getting scary. The more horrific part was probably that the voice sounded familiar to you. But it was distored and far away so you weren't sure. Either way, you needed to cross this alley. Your home was just a few meters further.

Holding your breath, you look at the ground, eyes glued to the pavement below you. You have nothing to do with this and you don't want to deal with it. But when you heard a scream of pain, your body jolt. Shaking from head to toe, you stop on your track. Your heart is beating too fast for your own good, your blood is pulsing. Slowly, your head turn towards the alley. What you saw at this moment was probably the worst sight you could have encountered in your life.

On the ground, a dead body. Eyes staring straight at you. His back was against the wall, blood dripping from his neck which was cut clean. He was shirtless and even though you didn't want to look at it, you knew his chest was covered in scars. But what's finally killed you is that you recognized his face.

It was your boyfriend.

Breathing becomes hard, you tug at your shirt, pupils slowly drowning in your tears. You couldn't look away. But you had to when someone step on a piece of glass. You jolt, searching for the responsible. Your senses on high alert. Everything in you were yelling at you to run but your legs were like jelly. It was a miracle you were still standing.

And that's when you saw it. Someone. You couldn't see their face but for some reason you knew they were watching you. Without diverting your gaze from them, you grab your phone from your back pocket, stepping back to put distance between you. The person calls your name and unfortunatly you recognize his voice.

"E-Ethan?" you ask with a watery and cracked voice.

You shake your head, slowly stepping back while he comes closer. You finally see his face. There's blood splattered on his face and he own a shiny knife in hand. It's straight out of a horror movie.

"Baby, it's not safe to wander around here at such a late hour. he laughs, surprisingly brightly for the situation.

-Ethan did you..." weakly, you point at the body in the alley behind him.

He's just smiling. He tilts his head to the side, staring at you longingly. Blood was dripping from his knife. Fuck, you need to run, right now. Sensing life coming back to your body, you bolt to the opposite direction. You hear him yell your name but you don't look back to see where he is. You rush to a place you hope will be full of people. There, you coud call for help.

Your rush, feeling every one of your muscle giving the best they have. You're out of breath, you already fell on the ground twice and hurt yourself but didn't bother stopping. Ethan was still yelling your name in your back, his voice getting progressivly more angry and desperate.

You weren't stopping, you couldn't. You were running haphazardly with your blurry vision, you couldn't see much. He's dead, you think. He's freaking dead. He killed him.

A violent side stitch takes you and you whine from the pain. Your muscles are burning so do each one of your breath. You see a building nearing and accelerate one last time to reach it.

But Ethan is seemingly trained for chasing people as he jumps on you and pin you against the ground. You try to scream but he doesn't allow you to as he maintain your mouth shut with his hand. You can feel his front against your back as you struggle to escape. Ethan hold you firmly against him, his weight on you guaranteeing you stay put.

"Why are you running? It's me. It's just me." you could hear the smile in his voice even though he's out of breath.

He was far too happy ! Did he plan this all along ? A million thoughts were racing in your head. Was that what your boyfriend saw in him ? Was that real ? Were you going to die ? You're crying all the water of your body at this point but Ethan doesn't say anything about it. You know he's ravished in the imbalance of power.

"It was supposed to be for the damn parasite, but I never could stand him anyway."

You don't have time to think about who or what he's talking about that a faint sting in your neck make you wince. A burning liquid propagate in your veins. Your vision soon become watery and blurry. Your body stop struggling and everything in you is numb.

"Sleep well now." was all you heard before black out.

When you woke up, (hours, days later ?) everything was pitch black around you. Even though you knew your eyes were open. What's happening ? Last night, you were at the local store buying things for your boyfriend and now you're here. Here, but where ?

You slowly start to realise something hides your view from the light and that your hands are tied up in your back. You couldn't move them at all, they were tightly attached with both scotch and cable tie. It was a miracle blood was still flowing. Or the person who attached you knew exactly how to do it. This thought was terrifying.

Your head aches trying to remember the last event but eventually you get the answer you needed. Ethan fucking Landry. He was in that alley with you. Tears brims your eyes at the reminder of your boyfriend. Your dead boyfriend. What will happen now ?

In your desperate state, you don't hear when someone enters the room. It's when a hand is put on your thight that you jolt and struggle to move. Trying to escape, the cable tie shear your wrists.

"You're gonna hurt yourself, love. Don't do that please."

The voice stops you. It was the same tender voice Ethan used to talk to you before. Ethan, shit, you spent the last few weeks arguing with your boyfriend over him, just for him to fucking kill him. Why is he doing this ? What did you do to him ? Can't he just kill you ? Is he so twisted that he needs to torture you ? It's all your fault, you should have listened to him. Ethan is a monster.

Tears are running down your cheeks, they're salty and sting a little. Ethan sees them and dry them with his thumbs. He tries to shush you but it don't work. Then, he decides to take off the cloth hiding your view. Upon seeing him, you burst into tears. You struggle, moving your whole body, trying to move the chair on which you're on. Crying more when he tries to touch you.

-No no no babe it's me! Don't freak out ! He laughs happily. It's just me, okay ? Everything's fine.

You were going to scream if he didn't interrupt you by roughly clading his palms against your lips. Your tears are no longer staining your chin, now flowing onto his fingers. You don't really understand the situation to be honest. Yesterday, Ethan was a really nice and polite friend. Why would he be otherwise ?

"That's it, calm down. Stop crying, please. It's okay. I'm here." he slowly part his hand away from your mouth.

You are terribly tired. Your body is numb. Your eyes are sore. You have difficulty breathing since you have a stuffy nose from all the crying. You sniff, blinking trying to get rid of the blurry vision you're having. You're sure you look pitiful but Ethan is looking at you like you're a damn art piece. He's analyzing you.

Ethan smiles. Sitting comfortably in front of you. On a chair he specifically placed here for you to talk. Or him to watch. You seem to be in a kind of garage. There's tools scattered on various worktable. Ethan tilts his head to where you're watching to catch your attention, when your eyes are on him again, he smiles brightly.

"You're comfortable here ? I'm sorry the chair is a little old, I wasn't really prepared. Don't worry I'll give you an armchair, soon. So you'll feel better.

You don't say anything. What does he want from you ? You have nothing left. According to his words, he plans on keeping you here for a while. Why ? He smiles, lifting his hand towards you, you flinch and turn your head.

-Don't look at me like that. he says angrily, his tone suddenly more serious.

Your eyes are back on him. You try to keep your gaze as neural as possible as to not angry him but your real feelings talks for you.

-Like you're scared of me. Like you're angry at me. I know you're not.

Why did you bother defending him. He's dead because of you, fuck, it's your fault ! You should have listened to him ! He told you Ethan was creepy, you should have fucking listened.... Tears are coming again, you try to keep them hidden but fail miserably and start crying all over again. Ethan sighs. He archs his back and lay his elbows on his knees.

-Ok, I guess I owe you an explaination. I'll try and make it quick, I have to go back to the kitchen soon after. I made pastas. Because I don't know if you can eat a lot right now, the medicine I injected you is quite strong. he seems to realise his words as his eyes widens and he agitates his hands agitatedly. It's strong but because it wasn't for you in the first place ! You weren't supposed to be there, don't worry. I'd never hurt you. I just improvised ! But you're gonna be fine. If not, it's okay too ! I can kill myself so we'll still be together !

What was his plan ? He wanted to kidnap your boyfriend ? Why ? What would he have done to him ? What would he have done to you ?

-But uh, love aside, if you feel like you'll throw up, warn me. There's probably a basin here or something. Anyway. I did what was best for you. you burst out crying and shake your head, denying his words. Yes I fucking did ! Okay ? He was a damn loser. I didn't have a choice, you know ? You should have just stayed loyal to me in the first place !

You were terrified. He changed emotions in a fraction of seconds. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn't even move. You couldn't comprehend his words. It was as if he had invented a link between you two you weren't even aware of. As if for him, you've never been friends but much more.

-Stop crying, he's dead. It's too late. Seriously, stop. You didn't even love him ! Why would you keep defending me like that otherwise ? And he humiliated me, that fucker humilated me before you ! You know I can't let that pass. It just had to end.

You were still seeing his face in the alley. He was looking into your eyes, you swear. You just know his face will haunt you untill your death. Never would you have thought Ethan Landry was a fucked up man. Never would you have thought Ethan Landry was thinking about your kidnapping and your boyfriend's death.

You didn't know what to feel. Too many emotions were in your heart. Hate, fear, disdain, grief, anger and sadness. All caused by him.

-It's not my fault, okay ? Stop looking at me like that !

He passes his hand through his hair. He's agitated. Too much for your own good. His hair, you're now sure he puts that damn gum himself. What kind of fucked up manipulator you have to be to do that ? To take your sweet time in creating arguments between two person ?

-I was supposed to come and pick him up. Thus, I would have sent you each one of his fingers in pretty pink enveloppes. I'm sure you would have loved it. But it's even better that you're here. We're always stumbling on each other, right ? Isn't that so cute ? The way we're so magnetic ? he smiles bashfully, like a schoolgirl confessing her love to her crush.

His grabs your legs, you struggle to get away from his hold. Ethan is not amused. His fist tighten considerably around your ankle and you whine from the pain. You're sure he could break it. He stops, laying simply your leg on his tight. The palm of your feet was too far from his tummy for you to hit it. He smiles in seeing you so compliant. You still feel the burning hold he previously exerced on your ankle. How strong is that man ?

He slides his fingers dreamily from your ankle to the highest part of your leg he could touch without bending in two. You were utterly disgusted by his touch knowing it was these same hands which killed your boyfriend.

-It really is fate.

And suddenly he starts using his nails instead of his digits. Not quite hurting you but it was enough to make you understand he was able to. His smile turn bitter.

-It was fate until you decided to betray me by picking someone else. his tone is dark, threatening. Like a murderer. Then it go back to his usual tone and his digits are back on your leg. But I forgive you, you know ? At first, I cried a lot. Because I thought that you didn't love me. But I soon realised that you wanted to test me. You wanted to see me jealous ! And it's okay ! You probably wanted me to make a move on you first... he smiles sheepishly, cheeks red.

What the fuck is he talking about ? You never loved him ! You never tried to test him ! Why does he keep inventing things ? Did you two have the same discussion ? Where does he gets these interpretation from? You're pratically sure it's impossible to declare your love to someone by accident so why does he thinks you're in love with him ?

-Though, I gotta admit I was really sad when you decided to fuck him. Because I understand your testing, but it didn't need to go that far, you know ? You wanted to practice ? Because it really hurt me.

You don't answer. You certainly didn't want to talk about that to him.

-For practice, right ? Tell me it was. You just wanted to practice for when we'd be together ? the death glare he sent you was enough to make you nod, even if he saw it was fake he didn't care. Good, good. I was scared for a sec ! he smiles happily, as if he didn't just threaten you. I'm still a little disappointed, though. We could've learn together but I guess I can't condamn your eagerness.

You needed to get out of here, right now. He could do so much more than just kill you and that thought was terrifying. You were helpless, stuck at his mercy.

-I'm glad you saw the camera I put in your bathroom. Felt like a creep watching you showering. But when you saw it and didn't say anything, that mean you allowed me to do it. Thanks for that. It helped me on the loneliest night.

What the fuck ? You try to remember when you ever saw a damn camera when suddenly it click. Everything click. The thing you thought was a pencil in his pocket when you invited him over, it was your toothbrush. The red point in your mirror, it was him, too.

Every time you brushed your hair, every time youu showered, every time you just lived your damn life, he was here.

You felt like a fool. He had played with you all along. You never saw anything when it was so painfully evident.

-Though once again, you didn't have to bring him in.

He was watching you from the very beginning. There wasn't a moment where you have been alone. Were others cameras in your apartment ? Probably if he knows you made love to your boyfriend.

-Ethan, you start with a shaking voice. His head snap to you, visibly excited to finally hearing you talk to him. Ethan I loved my boyfriend.

-What ? he laughed. No, silly. You do not. I'm the one you love. I'll marry you and everything, you know that.

He was smiling but you knew it wasn't genuine. You needed to talk to him calmly or this could be dangerous for you.

-I don't know you Ethan. I can't love you.

-But you do know me, sweetheart. he smiles while putting your leg back on the ground. Can I give you an advice ? he whispers then lays his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it. his eyes were empty of emotions while drilling into yours. You should really stop pushing me off because I'm starting to lose my fucking temper over here. Okay my love ? I'll go get you your food. I'm such a good househusband for you, right love ? You stay all pretty here, I'm coming back really quick."

With the unknow time he let you alone, you scanned your surrondings. All the tools could help you but they were too far away from you. You needed to change plan. At one point he'll have to go to sleep ? Or let you go to the bathroom ? As soon as he lets his guards down, you attack.

Ethan wasn't lying when he said he'd come back really quick as he was already here. He calmed down. Much better for you. He had a garnished plate in hand. He pushes his seat closer to you before smiling to you.

"It's gonna be fun. You'll be my beautfull wife whom I'd kill for. By the way have I told you about.. ? Wait, they haven't been discovered yet... Well, we don't care. Just a background character. he sits back down on his chair.

What ? Did he just told you he killed someone else ?

-Open your mouth, love. he says while taking a spoon full of pasta.

A spoon ? He probaby thinks you're gonna try to hurt him or yourself with a fork. He really think of you as a kid. He approaches the spoon near your mouth. You don't budge, staring at him dead in the eyes. you weren't even hungry. And if you were, you'd much rather die than to eat his food.

-Oh, I didn't even ask if you were hungry. Well, I'm putting that aside and when you need something you tell me. I won't leave your side anyway."

Him who was so nice and polite before, him who helped you with your homework. Him who killed your boyfriend, him who stalked and kidnapped you. Who was he ? Who was this man ? He sighs before your blank stare.

"Listen, I know you wanted to play that little game between us longer but he was turning violent, my love. I just... I couldn't stand to see you suffering with him. It was for your safety.

He stares at your thight on which he draws circle with his pointer. You don't even listen to the lies he tells you anymore. You're just trying to find a way out of here. Ethan sits on the ground next to you, his head now at the same level as your waist.

-He couldn't love you like I do. Nobody can. I'm going to take good care of you.

He lowers his head, his lips grazing against the clothe that separate him from the top of your thigh. You shudder. You feel his hot breath hitting your skin through the fabric. He lays his cheek flat against the fat of your thigh. He smiles. You want him to get away from you but any of your movement can angry him and you don't want that.

-I'll kill my dad after the plan, okay? So that he cannot oppose our union, our marriage.

Strangely, you wouldn't have thought someone like him had a father. Or any parent for that matter. His dad must be as fucked up as him, you're sure. You don't bother to try and understand him. A plan ? Yeah, good for him. You don't give a fuck. You just want to leave.

Though, he'd kill his dad ? He's even attacking his own family now ? Does this man have limits ? Your questionning must be visible from the outside as he laughs brightly at you.

-Why are you shocked pretty girl ? Didn't I show you how devoted I am to you ? he laughs again. And that's not even a quarter of what I'm ready to do for you.

His rub his nose against your skin covered thigh and sigh of contentement. Are you really stuck here ? No, no of course not. Someone is going to find you. Someone is going to find your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. He tried to warn you. You hate yourself for that. It's too late now. You can simply hope he didn't suffer a lot in his death. That's all you can do. Tears are coming again, the few leaft in you anyway. You're tired. Terribly tired. You'll probably pass out soon.

Ethan kiss your thigh after taking a good sniff out of you.

-I could do so much more for you, my love. So much more. You have no idea what I could to for you."

Of course Ghostface wants you!

Gf!Ethan X GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

‼️CW/TW‼️: scar; manipulative E; yandere!Ethan

If there's others tell me.

Not satisfied with this one, like really not. I fell like this is pure shit. Sorry.

"I'm scared, E. I'm actually terrified."

Ethan tightens his hold around you and kiss your forehead. The both of you lying down on your bed after a movie and an argument with the group.

"Ghostface wants us, he probably wants me, too! I don't wanna die, not like this. And the group... They want to separate you from me. You're my only support. Don't leave."

"I won't leave you." He whispers in your ear. "I'd never leave you. Nobody'll ever separate you from me. We'll be together forever. I'll protect you from everything."

According to Mindy, Ethan was the main suspect. When the first attack occurred, he wasn't here. Everyone got hurt, and Anika...

A wave of sadness overcome you and you feel your eyes water again.

"Love..." Ethan whispers, concern in his voice.

His thumbs caress your cheek while a weak smile makes his way to your face. The first attack was so unexpected, nobody was ready.

You even got hurt, too. Ghostface plunged his knife into your thigh. The hit was directed towards Sam but, trying to push her away, you fell and got hurt instead of her. Badly. You'll never regret it though.

Ethan's hand goes down your shoulders, to your hips to finally settle on your thigh. Where your stitches remains. He does not put his palms directly on it since the scar is really fresh and not healed yet. But his hand was still close to it. He was feeling guilty ever since he saw you with Chad near the ambulance. He was blaming himself.

"It's not your fault, E." You say.

-Yes, it is. I should have been here.

-But you weren't. It's useless to think of what you could have done. I'm alive. That's what matters."

You feel water running down your head. A single drop. A tear. Ethan is crying. You take Ethan's hand which is on your thigh and move it to your hip. Your good leg sneak its way in between his. While the hurt one goes above them to frame him. But not too far in case you worsen your stitches by stretching it. Both of your arms go under his. Your chest is glued to his.

"It's my fault.

-It's Ghostface's fault. He's the one who attacked me. Not you."

Ethan stays silent. His hand caress your back slowly and you do the same for him. Both of you comforting each other in the almost religious silence of the room. Some cars could faintly be heard outside but you were not paying attention to them.

In this hug, you were protecting each other. You were telling him how much you loved him, how much you were grateful. While Ethan was telling you that everything would be fine. He was so worried... You were happy he had econ. You don't know what you would have done if you saw him get hurt. He's the only one who understands you. The last thing you want is to see him in danger.

"You're risking your live by staying with me, you know ?" You talk with a shaky voice. You were getting emotional again just by thinking of what could happen.

"I'm sure Ghostface won't hurt you. How could he kill someone as pretty as you?"

"That's not funny, E. I'm really scared.

"I know but I swear to you, from now on, I'll always be by your side."

You nod, burying your face in his chest. Your arms tighten around him. You feel him tense for a second. Worried, you look up at him to just see him smiling, all softened, at you. He was so pretty. How could the others ever think of him as a criminal ? He was the one massaging your back when you were tired. He was the one cuddling you when you were sad. He was the one litteraly apologizing to chairs when he bumped into them. He was the one crying watching romantics movies ! How could he kill someone?

"Did I hurt you?" You ask.

-No, love. Why?" He whispers back.

You took time to respond, chilling in the pretty silence of the room where all you could hear were your two breath. It was hot but a nice hotness. A calming one. It made you sleepy, you who had sleep issue.

"Your body contracted when I touched you.

-It's nothing..."

Still worried, you move in the bed. Your back now facing him. He's whining, missing your body close already. You grab your phone and quicky return under the blanket. This time though, your head goes underneath. With the flashlight of your phone, you move up his shirt and look at where you touched moment prior. Ethan sighs.

"I told you it's nothing."

But you ignore him and go back to the surface. Meeting his accustomed yet loving gaze.

"Did your hurt yourself? You have a bruise on your hip."

He laughs nervously, as if embarrassed. His big hands takes a good hold of your hips before moving you up until you're face to face. He then hides his face in your neck. He loved doing that, manhandling you. You never understood why. He sighs once in the comfort of your body.

"I bumped into the corner of the table yesterday."

You had doubts.

"You're not hiding something from me, right ?"

But Ethan never doubted himself.

"What ? You think I'm Ghostface, too?" He said in a ironical tone, knowing damn well he won already.

You were not laughing. You would never dare doubt your boyfriend like that. The only reason you asked that was because you were scared he got into a fight or simply hurt himself bad. It happens, after all. Never would the thought he was a murderer even cross your mind. So you push him away from you a little to see his face. Not even a shadow of a smile on your face.

"Don't say that. Even for a joke. You know it makes me angry. I don't like them saying that. You're not Ghostface. I think I'd knew it well if you were a damn serial killer." You said, gritting your teeth, your hands clenching around his shirt.

-Well, I don't like them saying that either. Plus, they imply that you'd be stupid enough to be in a relationship with someone you barely know. But you're not stupid. And we know each other. You're the cleverest person in the damn world.

The subject changed and you didn't even notice.

-I am stupid sometimes, though. There is lot of things that I don't notice. Like when that guy was following me home. If it weren't for you I'd be dead.

-And that's why I'm here.

It was his duty, after all. To protect you.

-But Ghostface is not just a creepy guy in an alley. He's much more dangerous Ethan. And he wants me dead. He wants me.

-Of course he wants you my love, you're so pretty. Everyone want you.

You move away from his embrace and stare at him angrily. You had already told him not to joke like that and he was still doing it. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were dry. Contradictory with the long minutes you spent wetting them.

-Seriously Ethan, don't joke on that subject. It's making me uncomfortable. Anika is dead because of that guy. I don't want to laugh.

You cringed internally mentioning your friend. Fuck, she wasn't even related to the group that much. She was new, like Ethan. Why was she targeted ?

-I'm joking on it because I know nothing will happen to you. You're safe with me." He was smiling. A reassuring smile. One you could pour all your trust in.

You could never stay mad at Ethan anyway. Less in a situation like this. You needed support. And your friends didn't want him around. You only had him to dry your tears.

"I don't want you to get hurt." You said, entering back your safe place: his arms.

"I already told you. I won't. I'm staying here until you are safe.

-And the group? Chad, Mindy, Sam and Tara ? What about them?

-I'm sure they'll be fine. Even if they threw you out of their house...

-They didn't throw me out of the house, Ethan. I know you don't like them but they're my friends. They're scared too, you have to understand that.

-Okay, I understand. But if I wasn't here, you would have been all alone. They shouldn't have kicked you out in a situation like this."

You found nothing to answer this time. Because it was true. If he wasn't here, you'd be alone. They didn't kick you out, you left with Ethan because you were angry with their accusatory remarks towards him. But still, no one tried to call you. To know how you were doing. To even check if you were alive. And realizing that, you start crying again. You were so sensitive since Anika's death. You were truly in edge. You were happy Ethan was here.

"I'm alone E. I'm so fucking alone..." You realized.

-No, of course not. You're not alone. I'm here. I'd die for you. I'll protect you. Nothing will ever harm you as long as I'm here. You'll always be seen with me by your side. I'll marry you one day. You know that?"

You weren't listening anymore. You were remembering every memory you had with your friends. Searching a way to come back to them, to regain their trust. You needed them, they were your dear friends. Maybe you were dramatic but you had every right to be. And Ethan was right. They had left you alone to die by Ghostface. They had left you knowing you were a target. But you loved them, you couldn't resent them.

"We'll live a life where you won't need anyone but me. And I won't need anyone but you. A house secluded where no one can come. After all of this is done, we'll be together."

Ethan was smiling. But you couldn't see it.

Headcanon: Yandere!Ethan Landry

Reader is gn, enjoy.

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

Content warning: uhhhh gore description? Sex allusions; obsessive and shit. I mean, that's yandere you have to be used to it by now. OOC Ethan ? Manipulative, stalking blah blah blah nothing too crazy for a yandere.

~2000 words (8/05/2023)

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who 'accidentally' run into you at school. He's been following you in the hallways since you arrived to be honest but there is so much students here, you can't notice him in the crowd.

➛"I'm so sorry ! I wasn't looking !" He was, he was staring right at your face when he practically jumped on you. "It's okay, don't worry. I wasn't looking either." And when you two leave each other, what a crazy coincidence that you seem to have forgotten your book ! Wait, you didn't have it in your bag ? Of course silly ! Why would Ethan have it either way ? You're so clumsy ! He'll have to come give it back to you.

➛And suddenly, you see him everywhere. In the library at the same time as you and, oh no ! There is no seat for him ! Wait, is that a free seat ext to you? Maybe you won't mind if he seats here, he gave you back your book after all. He's so nice. Suddenly, he's at the same parties as you. Laughing with you and rating the costumes of people around you. He's in your building to 'drop someone off' and so on. What a coincidence, right ?

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who, to keep you all to himself, always say things like 'No, i'm mostly alone in my free time' to make you pity him into staying by his side. If it don't work, at least you got the idea that he's single and available for you.

➛ Pretty simple things, really. He'll tell you that his last partner left him without warning, that they were manipulating him. That he has difficulty in giving his trust to someone because of them. And now he's scared to love. That it hurt him really bad and of course you're sad for him ! So you're trying to be as nice as possible. You don't need to know that he never had any partner ! He'll eventually tell you that later.

➛Like "You're going to the party tomorrow ?" "I was planning on just staying at home" He didn't. Chad harassed him to come, and he would have if he didn't have the better option of staying with you. "I never really catch people's attention anyway..." He didn't care, it was yours that he wanted. But right now, his goal was to make you sad. For you to have pity of him so you'd stay with him.

So most of the time you try to make him smile by asking him to come to the party with you. Happy, he'll be stuck to your side all night, chasing everyone who'd dare approach. He's tall, he'll stand behind you and glare blankly at everyone without you noticing. He doesn't even need to try to be scary, he's a serial killer, his simple being emits a threatening energy.

➛Or when you ask him what's his plan for the week end and he just goes "Nothing, I don't really have much friends. I'll probably watch movies." with a small, almost ashamed voice. And you don't want to leave your new friend alone. And you think that he's too nice to be left alone so you offer to stay with him and he's on cloud nine !

➛Like "Don't you want a boyfriend sometimes ?" he'd ask. And you're a little surprised but you answer as honestly as possible. And he answer just after you, ignoring a little your answer. He just wanted to say what he needed to. "I'd like a partner. I've never had anyone loving me, that look so nice." He sighs. And while you look somewhere else, he'd give you a longing look. He probably already told Chad you two were together to be honest.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who plays innocent when he litteraly jump on you when you two are watching a scary movie. He's a fucking liar, don't trust him. He litteraly kills people babe... This guy absolutly LOVE horror movie and even the gorest of them all couldn't make him twitch. But with you, he plays the innocent and easily scared nerd.

➛When the murderer suddenly appear on the screen in a loud scream, the boy plunge his head in your neck, putting his hands before his eyes to hide the TV from him. You laugh. "It wasn't that scary, you know ?" He laughs nervously, moving away from you but still sticking to your side. The side of his thigh flat against yours and your arms touching each other's. His cheeks are red and you probably think it's because of his embarassment in jumping of fear but he's just happy to be near you. "If you're so scared we can change." But he dismisses you. Saying that it's okay. After that, he'll hide himself in your body at each loud noises. Smiling when you can't see him, happy with his trickery.

And that little monster takes advantage of the situation until the end. He'll call/text you when you're at home. He'll keep you awake all night, pretending to be scared to sleep, needing to talk to you even if you're in two differents places just to be reassured.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who guilt trap you by crying if you dare be angry at him or accuse him of something. It can be anything but he'll try and gaslight you. He'll cry harder, like a kid, to prevent you to continue talking.

➛After he came to your flat one day, one of your shirt disappeared. You had lend one to him since he got stained. (even if you're not the same size at him, i'm sure you have oversized clothes so it fit him) Without thinking much of it, you asked him about it when you saw him in class. And suddenly, he's looking at you with his big and shiny doe eyes, as if you had insulted him. Because in his head, you did ! "I gave it back to you litteraly two days ago..?" And he seems so sure of himself that you start to question yourself. "Are you sure ?" you ask, though. And Ethan laugh lightly. You doubt, trying to remember the past few days and thinking that, yeah, maybe he gave it back and it just didnt really stuck to you. "Yeah, I'm sure. Why would I steal your shirt anyway ?" But you swear you haven't seen your clothes in a while now.

➛Like, Ethan, your new friend, comes to your flat one day. You're used to it by now. He's sad, terribly sad. Or at least that's what he shows. "You know that person I was talking to ?" Another lie, he never talked to anyone beside you. And he plans on staying like that. But he told you he was slowly trying to forget about 'his ex', that he was trying to come out of his shell. And also he wanted to make you jealous by telling you he was talking to someone. (it didnt work, he was devastated) "They kind of called me a creep" and he laughs nervously, like he's ashamed to tell you that. (he's not) "They didn't like that I was clingy." And you try to be objective. "You know, people except different things in a relation. Maybe you were indeed too much for them but..." And then his eyes water and you feel bad. "Shit. I'm... Are you okay ? I wasn't insulting..." He doesn't want you to finish that. Because he doesn't want to hear you contradict him. So, thinking you said something stupid, you try to comfort him but now that he got you feeling guilty, he'll lock himself in the bathroom while this time, you're the one following him. He'll act like he's embarrassed to cry before you while in reality that shit is his most powerful technique. He'll cry before you every fucking day if he needed to.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who calls you when he's ghostface, playing with you to see your reactions. He's the type to talk about himself (Ethan) to you to see what do you think about him. Yeah, he's fucked up.

➛"Do you like scary movies ?" ask a changed voice. You frown your brow, taking the phone away from your ear to look at it. As if the face of the caller would appear. "Who are you ?" "Answer the question, pretty." "Don't call me that." A silence pass. Ethan didnt know how to contain his feelings. He was so happy to talk to you ! And in his costume, he was so much more confident ! He was able to tell you things he never did ! "I like scary movie. And you ?" you finally respond in a sigh. Ethan decides to skip this part, rushing to what's interest him. "Do you have a boyfriend ?" "Will my answer change the way you act with me ?" "Maybe" "I don't have a boyfriend, or any kind of partner for that matter." The boy on the other side of the phone was trembling in joy. His cheeks were crimson red. "Good".

➛For the umpteenth time this week, the phone ring. "Please leave me alone." you said, still scared by the call; you answered the phone, again, because he once threatened to come get you if you didn't. You wouldn't have been so terrified if he hadn't told you your exact adress, proving you that he was indeed watching. No way you were going to try him. "I was thinking about your little boyfriend recently. Ethan, right ?" "He's not my boyfriend, leave him alone. He did nothing." As much as he despised the way you dismissed your relation with him, Ethan was euphoric to think you were trying to protect him. "He's not, hm ?" He was shaking from joy thanks to this call. "How would you react seeing his dismembered head in your mailbox, hm ? You'd cry ? I bet you'd cry all your pretty tears for him. I'd like that." "Stop..." "Do you think he'd cry seeing your cute little head in his mailbox ?" And he couldn't stop himself. "I'm sure he'd be devastated. He's so fucking pitiful. I'm sure he wants to fuck you but he's too much of a coward to do so, huh ? Would you like being fucked by him ? To fuck that whore ? Tell me, pretty. Should I send you his head ?"

Plus, the best part was when you'd run to him crying and telling him how much you're scared. Then, Ethan could be your knight in shining armor, promising you he'd protect you from your stalker. And it worked ! Strangely, each time you were stuck to him, Ghostface didn't call.

If only you knew.

Pretty when you cry

Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

content warning: manipulative ethan; stalking; obsessive; maybe sub!Ethan; mention of murder; he's still ghostface; guilt trapping; worshiping; knife

English is not my first language sorry guys, if i did any grammatical mistakes lmk !

2924 words (7/05/2023)

"Hi" he said simply. As if we were speaking to each other for the first time, but in the same tone with which one greets an old friend. It was ironic how I wished for weeks for him to come and talk to me and when he finally did, all I thought about was running away. He hadn't changed. And so much the better. He was still so handsome. Today, he wore a white shirt and a kind of jeans in a shade between dark gray and black. After taking a brief tour of his outfit, I look up at his face: the most beautiful part of his person. His frizzy curls looked fresh, as if he had just washed them. This thought was confirmed by the smell of shampoo that came to me on a light breeze. His cheeks were tinged with a pale pink that highlighted the small and discreet freckles that sported his cheeks. His gaze escaped mine, watching the floor with a strange and sudden interest as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was embarrassed, no, dead of shame. After all, I still hadn't answered him. I've only watched him so far. And I surely would have continued if I hadn't noticed his shaking hands.

What am I supposed to say to him? I greet him too, I compliment him? I ask him directly why he came to talk to me? After all, the only times we had spoken was to get him to tutor me. Are we even friends? After he stood me up without any explanation, approximately two weeks ago now, we haven't spoken to each other since.

“Hi” I simply replied. Ethan scratches his cheek as he smiles nervously at me, his gaze flicking briefly above me to look behind me. The redness on his cheeks getting worse.

“You uh… Your classes, how are you doing ? I… Like, you're good ?”

To be honest, it wasn't. Which is the main reason as to why I was asking him for lessons, by the way. So he knows all about those four out of twenty that I love so much. (Wrong, I hate them, I just don't have the IQ to have more) How handsome he was. Earlier this year, I had this fantasy where Ethan, who I hadn't spoken to at the time, came up to me and asked me out. Later, having learned about his shyness, I dreamed of seeing him overcome his bashfulness to come and declare his love for me while stuttering.

"I manage. And you ? Are you able to follow the program?

Of course he did. We are talking about Ethan Landry, the best student in the whole establishment. He succeeds in everything. Except talking to people, it seems. For the umpteenth time now, he glances over my shoulder. His eyes alternated with bewildering speed between my face and what was behind my back. Finally, I turn to see the only person in the hallway besides us, Chad, watching us with a big smile on his face and thumbs up. He lowers his arms the second my eyes notice him and he puts his hands in his pockets, pretending to turn around.

"Isn't that Chad?" I knew it was him, Ethan's best friend. But I just wanted confirmation.

-N-no aha, it’s… I don’t know who… It’s not Chad.” His laugh was forced and it showed. He was staring at the ceiling, shrugging and laughing nervously. Too smiley to be true. If he weren't already incredibly uncomfortable and flushed, his friend's intervention would have caused him to be.

"Why did you come talk to me Ethan?"

Our last discussion was two weeks ago. We had seen each other on Tuesday for my private lessons and it had gone incredibly well. He had scheduled a session for Thursday, of which I was counting every second until D-Day. I was smiling just reading our messages over and over again. Then Thursday arrived after an endless wait. I headed for the library, as usual. My smile glued to my lips, impossible to remove. I was on cloud nine. But Ethan was late, yet he had never been with me. I waited and waited and waited but after an hour and a half I left. He hadn't sent a message, nothing. Since then, not a word has been exchanged. In the hallways, not even a single look had been shared. We walked ignoring each other, like strangers.

"I'm sorry.

-For what ?"

I had some idea why he was sorry but I didn't want to get my hopes up. His eyes water, he opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Ethan extends his hand towards me which I grab by reflex. To be honest, he was starting to worry me. Was he really going to cry? Was it because of me?

“Ethan, are you okay? I forgive you if this is what bothers you so much but please don't put yourself in such a state. Do you want me to walk you home? I'll tell the teacher that you are not feeling well.” As I said that, I adopted the softest voice I could muster.

The curly man holds my hand, he intertwines our fingers together. His tears finally running down his cheeks. A few tears escape him.

“No… he almost sighs.

-'no' what ? I ask, worried.

-I'm not feeling well…"

My concern increases considerably. Forget him which stood me up. His state is much more worrying. Without really thinking about it, my hand rests on his shoulder. I start guiding him to the exit but he seems to realize it. He plants his feet on the ground, shakes his head, then grabs my hand resting on his shoulder.

Ethan was keeping me here.

He raises his angel eyes to me. He was so handsome. His pupils were glowing. The boy opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Frustrated, his tears seem to intensify. He lowers his head, his beautiful curls falling in front of his eyes that I love so much.

"Ethan, you can tell me anything."

I was hoping he would open up to me a bit more. We were close, certainly not like best friends, but I considered myself loyal enough not to snitch his problems to everybody. Plus, I wasn't lying. He could tell me anything, I will help him as best I can. Ethan runs his thumbs over the backs of my hands, a slight smile on his lips. For a second, he seemed at peace.

“My love… he whispers and I almost thought I was dreaming.

But this peace does not last

-What ?

"I..." His lips quivered.

Did he really call me 'my love'? My heart was beating wildly. He sniffles and tries to swallow back his tears, to no avail. Finally, Ethan snaps.

“I…I can't sleep anymore, I can't do it anymore! he exclaims between two cries. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. I miss you, I want to continue to give you private lessons, even my homework if necessary. I'lldo them for you. Everything, I'll do everything for you…” he had spoken so quickly that he was out of breath. His tears had not stopped, quite the contrary. He had let go.

His sudden outbusrt make me retreat for a split second. The curly man's hands squeeze mine tightly, as if to keep me from moving further away. I don't understand, my absence has affected him so much? Why didn't he come talk to me sooner, then? And since when does he feel that way about me? His words were excessive and I thought he was going a little too fast. He was so desperate that he saw my face all the time? That he was willing to do 'everything' for me? I thought that my crush was not reciprocated, worse, than he considered me as a simple classmate. If I expected that! But where does this outburst come from?

“Breathe Ethan, breathe.”

Like a child, Ethan nods. He tried to calm his breathing while I tried to slow my heartbeat. I knew Ethan hadn't had a lot of conquests in his life, but I never would have imagined him to be so dependent.

"I'm sorry, really sorry...

-Why are you apologizing?

-I left you alone, I swear I haven't forgotten you. I've been thinking about you all the while i was doing it...

So he was really apologizing for that. But why is he making a fuss about it? I had already imagined this scenario and honestly, I expected an apology, a justification and that was it. Why was he so affected? That guilty? His words got mixed up and in the end, I lost track.

- It's okay Ethan, it's not that important. Is that what stresses you out so much?

- What can I do to make you forgive me?

-Ethan, I already told you, I forgive you, it doesn't matter.

-No, he shakes his head, tell me.

Feeling that if I didn't take matters into my own hands the situation was never going to end, I decided to ask for a simple favor.

-Where were you that day? I ask, alluding to the day he stood me up.

-That's stupid." Despite his words, I give a nod encouraging him to continue. Promise me not to be afraid.

-Why would I be afraid of you Ethan? I ask, laughing softly. He's an angel, how can you be afraid of him?

-Promise me."

His fingers gripped my wrist tightly. It almost hurt me. For a moment, the thought that indeed Ethan could scare me crossed my mind. However, I thought of it too late.

-I was supposed to be only ten minutes late, and I apologize for that, but you had to be outside your room for me to get in it.

-What ? I ask laughing, not understanding where he was coming from.

-When I got in your room, there was a perfume that was not yours. But I had already felt it somewhere, on someone. And… I-I'm sorry that pissed me off and… I-I thought you were cheating on me and I was scared and… I cried but I kept smelling the perfume of that-

-Ethan, stop here, I don't understand anything. What are you talking about? I was no longer laughing, the strange details he gave me seemed too precise.

His tears flow, without warning, he takes me in his arms and presses me to his chest. He hugged me tightly, I almost couldn't breathe. His face plunges into my neck, which he was soaking with his tears. He kept saying he was sorry over and over while I tried to understand. Was he telling the truth?

-I felt so guilty for hurting them that I didn't dare come and talk to you. I was terrified that you would run away from me when you eventually find out. It was horrible. Never again. Never part from me again, I beg you. I'll die of it.

I felt his every word knock against the skin of my neck. He was whispering, as if telling me a secret. And maybe it was. I was praying that another student would come down the hall and see us but the odds were low, very low. Ethan had cornered me at the end of my class, everyone had left. The sun was already falling asleep outside the window. Panic quickly set in within me.

-Ethan you're crushing me! I wasn't even sure he heard me since buried in his chest, my voice was muffled.

-I thought you were cheating on me b-but… I’m sorry for thinking that, sorry sorry sorry sorry...

What did he do ? Who was he talking about when he said “having hurt them”? Where is the shy Ethan who softened my heart? Unconsciously, I start to shake. My arms try to tear themselves away from the grip he had on them but he was crushing me too hard; I couldn't move. His arms clung to mine along my body.

-I should never be mad at you again, ever again. Do you forgive me ?

That's when it comes back to me; the framework. Coming home the evening of the day Ethan and I ended our relationship, my frame was splintered to the ground. The shards of glass had been flying all over my room. The photo remained intact; a picture of me and my roommate, but the frame was dead. I hadn't given more importance than that to the situation itself, my window was open and then said roommate was at home during the day. I just thought that a draft had knocked it down or that my friend was clumsy: it happens after all.

No, it was him.

-Ethan, I speak in a shaky voice, please let me go.

-No ! he yells. You promised me ! You promised me you wouldn't be afraid of me!

-E-Ethan please….

- I'm sorry, i'm sorry !

Ethan, six feet tall, collapses to his knees in front of me. He buries his face in my stomach, his arms wrapping around my waist. He speaks in my skin, muttering countless excuses and promises. Immediately seizing the opportunity, I grab him by the shoulders and push him with all my might to the ground. Surprised, he let me go. His back hits the floor, he lets out a plaintive moan mixed with his cries. Without thinking, I turn my back to flee. But Ethan is strangely fast. He gives me a powerful kick in the shin which in turn makes me fall on my stomach.

Ethan is crying. His cheeks are drowned in tears and red. I don't find him as handsome as before when he slightly pulls up his t-shirt to pull a knife out of his pants.

"Why are you doing this to me ?" he growled, his face lowered to the ground. So far, he's let it go. But there, his energy had changed. He was a murderer.

I crawl on the ground, moving away from him, my eyes filled with terror. I'm gonna die. I'm going to die here, alone, killed by the boy I loved. Ethan towered over me, taking small steps towards me.

“I'm begging you…” I cried.

I was desperate, there were no more solutions. I thought, as I disappeared, maybe Chad would figure out who my killer was, since he was the last one to see me other than Ethan.

"You told me you wouldn't be scared..." he pouted as he crouched down on top of me. Afterwards, his actions keep surprising me as he sits on my pelvis. He had fun bringing his knife to my neck and caressing me with it. The coldness of the metal makes my hair stand on and shivers appear all over my body.

"Ethan, please take that away from me... yelling at him wouldn't get me anywhere, so I was begging.

- No, don't be afraid. You know very well that I would never hurt you.”

His promises, I wanted no more. I wanted him to leave me alone, forever. My hands were free, yet I no longer controlled them. They were completely flat on the ground. I couldn't lift a single finger.

“Do you want me to prove my devotion to you? the curly boy points the knife at him.

The sharp tip of the weapon is now to his throat. Ethan looks at me and smiles. His free hand lay comfortably flat on my chest, holding me firmly to the floor. The vision unfolding in front of me was horrific. I was praying that he wouldn't be able to take his own life in front of me, on top of me! I didn't want to see it though, my eyes refused to look away. I was terrified that he would plunge his knife in me without warning.

- You love me too, right? he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Tell me that you love me. You love me so much, my love. You love me so much you're ready to die for it.

-Ethan listen…

-Answer." he orders.

The roles had switched. He had given me a position of superiority, adoring me, throwing himself at my feet for even a pardon, but he was sick of it. And now not even my pleas will reach him.

“Imagine how romantic that would be, huh? May the students meet us tomorrow morning, both dead and entwined. It would be wonderful.” His smile was that of a sick man. What more do you need, my death? You want me to stick this pretty little knife in my heart for you? That I tear it down and give it to you as an offering? Come on, tell me you love me. I know you do.”

Finally, I manage to close my eyes. His description had managed to repel me enough to allow my brain to kick in the survival instinct. Ethan laughs mischievously. I feel him move, all his weight crushing my body. His lips settle on my neck for a second.

“You want me to kill myself, huh? I'll kill myself because of you. All because you don't love me. How can you be so selfish? he kisses my cheek. Tell me you love me, my love. I need it. His thumb passes over my eyelid gently, making me open my eyes.

I knew I was stuck. He was one step ahead of me, physically and mentally speaking. He had me stuck. My eyes were red and swollen.

-I… I love you… I whisper, choked cries leaving my mouth at the same time.

-Where is my first name, pretty ?

And to think that I was dreaming of saying those words to him a few minutes earlier.

-I… I love you Ethan… The curly man's face lights up, a gaping smile erasing his crazed expression.

- There, it wasn't so complicated now, was it?"

That was my first story in english. please do not hesitate to gives me advices whatsoever, like if you think that the plot was too quick, ethan too out of character, not enough details, everything ! I hope you liked reading it anyways.

now playing…

angel by massive attack

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader

my first ever dark content/yandere oneshot aaaaaa!!! plsss thoroughly go through the cw’s before reading ^^;

read the prequel here!!! :)

cw’s!!: non-consensual drugging, mentions of needles/syringes, medical malpractice, descriptions of violence (gutting, beating someone to death, etc.), mentions/romanticization of cannibalism, blood eating, medical abuse (???), gn! reader, no use of y/n, uhhhh freaky suguru. like he’s actually crazy (but so are u) and uhhh i think that’s it?? ^^;

wc: 1.3k (what.)

“how have you been feeling?” your therapists voice is soft, just barely loud enough for you to hear. it’s like he’s trying to grasp at any sense of normalcy, as if any of this was normal. your head feels like it’s filled with cotton when you move to look at him, a deadly look in your dazed, slow-blinking eyes.

he completely disregards your glare with nothing but a growing smirk, shifting to adjust your position on his lap. “i see you’ve taken well to the sedatives.” his cold hand grazes your bare arm as he speaks and you have to resist the urge to use all of the strength you have left to throw yourself onto the floor just to get away from him. you decided against it. you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that.

suguru’s a charming man. every nurse, therapist, and criminal in this hellhole of an institution knew that. maybe that’s why he clung to you like this. you saw through him, had threatened to knock his teeth out just because you found his smile unsettling in the preliminary meeting (“a convenient way to find your perfect fit!” is what one of the brochures had read).

a few weeks later he was your primary therapist. the only one allowed to see you for sessions and the only one able to prescribe what medicine you took.

this time it was a strong sedative administered by needle, only given to you the one day a week you saw him for your “sessions”. he seemed to enjoy this one, considering how he hadn’t switched the prescription in almost a month (though you were sure he was upping the dose every week, there was no other explanation for the way the syringe seemed to get more and more full every time you saw the nurses holding it).

it’s only now that he seemed to notice the narrow-eyed expression you were giving him. “aw, don’t look at me like that… it’s for my safety, angel. i can’t have you lashing out and hurting me, can i?” his palm rests on your cheek and as much as you will the muscles in your neck to jerk away from his touch, it still doesn’t work. only a small grunt leaves you and that sound only heightens the amusement in his eyes.

“m’gonna fuckin’ kill you…” you manage to strain out. you despise how weak your voice sounds. you despise the way his eyebrow quirks up in interest in response to your threat. you despise how his voice comes out a low, patronizing purr when he asks “oh, are you?” because he knows you will. he knows that if he lowers your dose you won’t hesitate to hunt him down. he’s seen your files, he knows.

you let out a shaky breath at his words, that deadly glare in your eyes never faltering as your head nods in response to his question (though he’d barely constitute it as a nod, more like a subtle twitch of your muscles). “m’gonna gut you… cut you alllll the way from your bellybutton to your fuckin’ throat…” you can feel the delirium from your medication settling in when you’re halfway through speaking, but that doesn’t stop you.

“how gruesome.” is all he hums, a deep, twisted glint of admiration in his gaze. “you’ve certainly grown more creative.” the pad of his thumb presses into your bottom lip as he speaks. he seems almost satisfied with your violent description, like you’d just given him the greatest gift he could possibly ask for (to him, it was).

he couldn’t help but feel touched by your words, how you planned something particularly torturous just to bring him as much pain as possible. the way you hurt people — at least before you were admitted — was concise and unmeditated. someone made you lose your temper so you hurt them, plain and simple as that. you were only able to plead insanity because of the way you “blacked out”, only noticing the soreness in your arms (and the brain matter in your hair) after you had beat a man to death.

so for you — a patient with uncontrollable violent outbursts — to plan something specific just for him? oh, he could feel the pleasant chill rolling down his spine. how would you do it, suguru wondered. would you steal a scalpel from the nurses or a knife from the kitchen? would the way you cut him open be clean — planned, even — or would you just hack at his skin until you were satisfied? he could almost imagine the way you’d pin him down (not like you had to, he’d let you see his insides if you asked politely enough) and run the cool metal over his abdomen before he felt the sharp contrast of the warmth of his blood trickling down his skin. he could only hope he would be alive long enough to see the crimson tainting the pretty skin of your hands, getting under your nails and sinking into the grooves of your palms, absorbing every drop of him.

suguru was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t notice the way you had squinted at his far away expression, a muscle in your jaw giving a small twitch. maybe if you…

suguru also didn’t notice the way you had managed to slowly pry your jaw open, the tip of his thumb now resting against the ridges of your bottom row of teeth. at least, he didn’t notice until you miraculously willed your jaw to snap shut, the metallic taste on your tongue bringing you a primal sense of satisfaction (you would’ve preferred to bite the the tip of his thumb clean off to teach him a lesson, but this would do).

and oh, you would’ve laughed in his face if you could when you heard that strangled little gasp leave his lips. you relished in the way he watched you with a dumbfounded look, his usually piercing eyes opened wide in surprise.

your victory was disturbingly short lived, though. his shock quickly turned into something almost giddy with the way his eyes seemed to light up like a child who was just handed their favorite toy. he forced his thumb deeper into your mouth, his head cocking to the side almost observantly. “how do i taste, angel? hm?” there’s a crazed look in his eyes. you feel like you’re getting dissected. “maybe you should eat me after you cut me open, yeah? i’d let you, you have my permission.” he’s all too eager to give you more ideas, more ways to torture him even after death.

his arm snakes around your middle so he can press a palm to your stomach. “i’d be with you forever… wouldn’t you like that, angel?” he murmurs lowly by your ear. you don’t have the strength to answer anymore, your eyes blinking slower… and slower…

he holds you tight as you slump against him, (the sedatives make you intensely drowsy… it doesn’t help that he had prescribed you double the recommended amount) making a mental note to up your dosage once again. he can’t risk you building up some sort of immunity, can he? if the force of your bite was any indication, he’d have to find a new medicine for you within the next month or two (not like it was any hassle on his end. if anything, he was excited to see your adorably pathetic attempts to brute force your way through the daze of a new drug).

he just had to keep you here with him… you’d learn to love it.

to love him.

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.

I actually like these MC concepts for Blackberry Winter. It gave me kind off stylistic challenge

Idk why,but Twitter folks really ate this up back when it was first posted

Another part of my cringe one year old era

Sword of Damocles (Full Comic)

Why didn’t I post the full comic from the start? Because I’m that extra and I needed to adjust myself to the posting system of posting on Tumblr after being absent for few years

Sword of Damocles (6/6)

I DID IT!

GET THERAPISED LOSER

So Far

Yandere! Various! Haikyuu  x Black! Fem Reader

2-3-4 (coming soon)

TW//CW: reader smokes, possible trauma & ptsd, reader has a speech impediment, and usage of profanities. 

Description:

As you start out college, your aunt asks of you to start attending therapy sessions to alleviate your negative experiences of the past. However, you start to realize that sometimes the past can be inescapable.

1.0k words

Taglist: @xetou​

A/N: Hi! Please let me know if you’d like to be apart of the taglist. Thank you for reading ❤

"O--ONE PUMPKIN SPICE latte, p--please.” You felt your hands shake, you had a lecture in a few minutes and you were close to being late. The barista nodded, going off to the side to prepare your drink. You looked around the café, it was cozy and warm. You made a mind note to frequent here in the future.

The barista then handed you the drink, you giving her the right amount cash in return. You took a sip of it, taking in the bitter sweetness.

“(Y/n), how could you possibly drink this evil thing and not get sick?!”

You were walking with Aiko to lunch. You giggled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know, I usually take it black but every once in a while I change it up.”

Aiko rolled her eyes at your playfulness. You were so busy paying attention to her that you didn’t realize that you bumped into a toned chest. Splash! Your sweet coffee spilt all over his shirt. Your eyes widened in realization, quickly grabbing some napkins from your backpack. You felt heat rush to your cheeks. “O--oh my gosh, I am so sorry--”

“It’s fine,” he grunted. You looked up at him for a second, he was tall and seemed to be one of those ‘no bullshit’ kind of guys. There was a noticeable red tint on his cheeks but his expression told a much different story. 

You heard a laugh from behind him. It was that boy you asked Aiko about yesterday. “Uh oh, looks like Iwa-chan got coffee all over his uniform.”

“Shut up Shittykawa.” 

Aiko grabbed your arm, giving you a ‘lets get out of here’ look and you anxiously nodded. The two boys watched you leave with curiosity, both of them were equally intrigued by you. "What the hell was that, (Y/n)?"

You frowned in embarrassment. "I--I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Well be careful next time, or you'll bump into one of those bastards again. They’re bad news.”

You chuckled, locking arms with her as the two of you continued to stroll through the hallway. “Oh come on Aiko, I think that Oikawa guy seems nice-ish. Do you have some sort of vendetta against the volleyball team?”

“Something like that,” The red-haired girl muttered. Your eyebrows raised, deciding to not tap into her conflict with them. 

“Who was the cutie?” Oikawa asked as he and a few other guys changed into their jerseys.

Iwaizumi pulled off his stained shirt and placed it in his duffle bag. He instantly knew who what his friend was referring to. “Some third year transfer. Judging by her slightly mediocre Japanese, she’s American.”

“Ah, she's definitely not like everyone else around here." Oikawa smirked at his the light-green eyed boy. "You know Iwa-chan? Something tells me we'll be seeing her a lot more often."

“Mhm.” 

And with that, they headed off to the gym for practice. 

You took a drag out of your cigarette. The lecture was quite succinct, only lasting about 30 minutes. Most lessons were straight-forward and to-the-point, which was one of the several perks that came with your college experience.

Sometimes you wondered how you managed to push through after what had happened. It seemed like a never-ending hell, maybe that's why the admission team felt bad for you when you wrote that heartfelt essay. Your phone vibrated, indicating someone was trying to call you. It was your aunt. You sighed, swiping left to hear what she had to say. "..H--hello?"

"(Y/n)? Hi sweetheart, how are you doing?"

"F--fine Auntie, I just c--came from a lecture."

"I see. You know your friend Aiko stopped by yesterday to see if you were still here. Poor thing misses you like hell."

You once again sighed. A part of you did miss your old friends from high school, but sometimes you've got to leave the past in the past. Hell, you moved out of Miyagi for a god-damned reason. Thinking of the past made you want to take another hit of your cigarette. So you did, savoring the ethereal feeling of nicotine entering your lungs.

"..(Y/n)?"

No answer, she instantly knew why. Aunt Em was now becoming irritated with you. "(Y/n), are you smoking again?"

You groaned, hanging up the phone on her. It's not like you were trying to be rude or anything. You hated when she tried to intrude on your bad habits, like a child. And you weren't a fucking child anymore.

You tossed the cigarette, pressing it into the ground. You looked at the time and internally cussed. It was almost 4:30. You had some stupid study session with one of your classmates, he was pretty nice but seemed to be reserved and a no-bullshit kind of guy as well. 

You walked to the library, which was like a common-place for the students to hang out it. You spotted him, you were only like 5 or six minutes late. But making an effort to be punctual would establish a better relationship between the two of you.

Your classmate had this studious dark academia-like nature to him, which you found to be pretty hot. It was also his familiarity, he reminded you of someone from the past. You also liked how he was patient with you, given your speech impediment and all. It was pretty rare especially since you hadn’t always been like that.

“(L/n), you’re late.” His non-chalant voice bringing a few shivers down your spine. Obviously, you had gotten over your boy-shyness but you sometimes felt like a part of it was still there. 

You quickly bowed your head and played it off with a giggle. “S--sorry Akaashi, I ran into a few things on the way here. It won’t happen again.” He nod

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” His gunmetal blue eyes boring into your (e/c) ones. He gestured for you to sit next to him to which you immediately followed. Both of you had aspirations within the world of humanities, especially you, who was looking to write a book someday. “So what have you worked on so far?”

You pulled up a word document on your laptop of some drafting ideas for a possible story. Your professor is has assigned each student to write a memoir of the past. “I--I decided to write about the more positive moments of my past, y’know?”

Akaashi just stared, once again showing no emotion. You hadn’t opened up to him at all really. But you knew he somehow suspected, with your aloof and timid nature, that something happened to you. 

“Honestly,” he said making eye-contact with the window behind you. 

“H--hm?” You internally panicked. Oh no, is my idea too dull-

He then smiled, making your eyes widen. “Honestly I think it’s a great idea, (L/n).”

So Far

Yandere Haikyuu! x Black! Fem Reader

1 - 2 - 3 

TW//: reader smokes, possible trauma & ptsd, and reader has a speech impediment.

Description:

As you start out college, your aunt asks of you to start attending therapy sessions to alleviate your negative experiences of the past. However, you start to realize that sometimes the past can be inescapable. 

A/N: Ahh, first published tumblr chapter. Hope you all enjoy it 🥺

--

0.5k words

IT WAS YOUR FIRST day of going to therapy; your aunt thought it would be a good idea for you to get your feelings out. Although it was a bit of a taboo for someone like you to attend therapy, it was the only way that could help you get out of your shell.

You were the docile, shy type that often kept to herself. Your speech impediment didn’t exactly help your case either. You preferred to spend your free time in your bedroom, sleeping in your comfortable bed. Your aunt hated that, in the few times you actually did go outside other than school, it led to one of the worst experiences of your lifetime.

Aunt Em [1:25 PM]: Please try talking with the therapist today and let me know how it goes, okay? Love you

You [1:25 PM]: alright lyt

You waited your turn in the lobby, fidgeting with the home screen on your phone. "(Y/n)?" 

You perked up out of your seat to see the therapist; her door was slightly ajar, and she had a small smile on her face. You returned the smile and followed into her office, shutting the door behind you. She looked to be around her late 30s, had a few visible wrinkles, and wore nude nail polish. 

You sat on the couch opposite of her. It was comfy, something you could probably lay down on in future appointments. The older woman clasped her hands together. "So! Tell me what made you want to start attending therapy sessions."

You flinched, forgetting that therapy puts you on the spot. "U--Um, well um, my aunt thought it would be a good idea for me to advocate for my mental health."

"Ah, okay, so your aunt was the one who brought it up. Excellent!"

"Y--Yeah."

"Now I heard that you recently began university, how exciting. What high school did you go to?"

"Aoba J--Johsai."

"Ooh, okay, I heard they have stellar athletic teams. Did you like it there?"

You thought about the question for a bit. Did you like it at Aoba Johsai? Besides the rich, pretentious assholes that were in attendance, it wasn't so bad. Even as a foreigner, you were able to make a small group of friends along the way.

Though your shyness tended to tamper with your ability to make new ones, you avoided most people like the plague, smoking your cigarettes in the bathroom stall while minding your own business.

"(Y/n)?"

A snapshot of that brunette boy and his three other friends haunted your vision. You couldn't stand it. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You snapped out of your pondering daze. "O--oh sorry. T--to answer your question, it was alright at Aoba Johsai."

The therapist nodded, writing a few notes down in her notebook. Stutters, often anxious and timid, possibly traumatized? "Mm-kay, well, I think that's about our time for a session today. I'll see you tomorrow (Y/n)."

"T--Thank you," you squeaked, bowing your head in respect. You quickly saw yourself out of the building and called for a cab to take you home.

He just wants to keep you safe

Edit: I forgot his freckles 💀

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.

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

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖔𝖑𝖋

Yandere prince x AFAB single mother reader

Chapter 1

Y/N’s life revolves around one thing—her daughter, Isabelle. Working tirelessly to make ends meet, she’s used to long hours, small joys, and the quiet strength it takes to raise a child on her own. The last thing she expects is for their ordinary trip to the mall to catch the attention of Lucien Laurent—the cold, calculating crown prince known for his sharp tongue and colder heart. But something about Y/N and her daughter cracks through the prince’s icy facade. Lucien has never been one to want a family, yet he finds himself drawn to the warmth Y/N radiates—the laughter she shares with Isabelle, the way she faces life’s hardships without flinching. For the first time, the crown prince, feared by many and admired by all, wants something more. What starts as curiosity spirals into obsession. Lucien doesn’t ask for things—he takes them. And now, he’s set his sights on Y/N and Isabelle, determined to claim them as his own, no matter the cost. But love born from power is a dangerous thing. Y/N must navigate the delicate balance between protecting her daughter, keeping her freedom, and surviving the suffocating luxury of palace walls. Because when a prince decides you belong to him… escape is never simple. How far would you go to protect the ones you love when the most powerful man in the kingdom refuses to let you go?

The crisp morning air hung heavy with the weight of duty and expectation. Outside the grand palace gates, reporters jostled for position, cameras flashing like restless fireflies. Royal appearances were rare, and when the crown prince himself was involved, the media swarmed like vultures scenting fresh prey.

Lucien Reinhardt stepped out of the towering marble archway, the sunlight catching on the gold trim of his tailored charcoal suit. He moved with the precision of a man who owned the ground beneath his feet—calculated, unyielding, and wholly uninterested in the spectacle before him. His face, carved from cold stone, betrayed nothing. No warmth. No irritation. Just a sculpted mask of aloof indifference.

Where his father, King Aldric, waved to the crowd with the practiced charm of a seasoned ruler, and his mother, Queen Victoria, smiled gracefully for the cameras, Lucien barely spared them a glance. The weight of the crown, though not yet upon his head, had long since shaped his demeanor into one of quiet, domineering authority.

“Lucien, at least pretend to be approachable,” murmured his younger sister, Adrielle, adjusting the lapel of her silk blazer as she stepped beside him. Her tone was light, teasing, but there was an edge of nervousness. No one truly relaxed around Lucien—not even family.

He didn’t respond. He never did when the conversation was trivial.

The sleek, obsidian-black car pulled up to the curb, polished to a mirror shine. The royal crest glinted on the hood, subtle yet unmistakable. A uniformed driver rushed to open the door, bowing his head respectfully. Lucien stepped forward without acknowledgment, his strides purposeful, each movement economical and restrained.

Inside the car, the air was hushed, thick with unspoken tension. King Aldric slid in beside him, adjusting his cufflinks with the slow, deliberate movements of a man who valued appearances above all else. Across from them, Queen Victoria and Adrielle exchanged glances.

“You could smile once in a while,” the queen ventured, her voice soft but pointed.

Lucien’s sharp, emerald-green eyes flicked toward her, unreadable. “Smiling doesn’t win wars. It breeds familiarity. Familiarity breeds complacency.”

His father chuckled dryly, though there was little humor in it. “Always the strategist. But today isn’t a battle, Lucien. It’s a charity event. Kissing babies, shaking hands—the usual charade.”

Lucien turned his gaze toward the tinted window, watching the city blur past. Even the bustling streets of the capital, with their vibrant storefronts and bustling crowds, seemed muted through his detached lens.

“A charade,” he echoed, voice devoid of inflection. “That’s exactly what it is.”

It wasn’t disdain, exactly, that colored his words. It was something colder. Lucien Reinhardt didn’t waste emotions on things he couldn’t control, and the theater of royalty was one of them. His focus remained where it had always been: securing power, eliminating threats, and ensuring nothing and no one could ever undermine the empire his family had built.

To the world, he was the perfect crown prince—distant, composed, and ruthlessly efficient. To those who dared to know him beyond the polished surface, he was something far more dangerous: a man who didn’t need warmth to command loyalty, only results.

As the car glided through the palace gates and toward the city center, Lucien folded his hands in his lap, thumb brushing the crest embroidered into his glove.

He was already calculating the day’s itinerary. Meetings. Photographs. Public appearances.

The bustling mall echoed with cheerful chatter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods lingering in the air. It was an event carefully crafted for good publicity—royalty mingling with commoners under the guise of generosity. Bright banners hung from the railings, boasting the royal crest alongside slogans of unity and charity.

Lucien Reinhardt stood at the edge of it all, a silent storm amid a sea of smiles.

His father, King Aldric, moved through the crowd with the ease of a man born into power, shaking hands and flashing a politician's smile. His mother, Queen Victoria, laughed softly as she crouched down to accept a bouquet from a wide-eyed little girl, her golden crown catching the light. Even Adrielle, ever the perfect royal daughter, posed for selfies with teenagers who squealed as they pressed close.

Lucien, on the other hand, stood near the marble fountain in the center of the atrium, arms crossed over the immaculate cut of his charcoal-gray suit. His emerald gaze swept the scene without interest, calculating and cold.

"Sir," a frazzled event coordinator approached, nervously adjusting her headset. "The children’s charity booth would love a photo with you. It would mean a lot to them."

Lucien didn’t move. His expression didn’t flicker.

"No."

The woman blinked, clearly thrown off by the blunt refusal. "B-But it’s for the press, Your Highness. It would—"

"I said no." His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of absolute authority.

The coordinator stammered an apology before scurrying away, leaving Lucien in the company of his own disinterest. He wasn’t here for pleasantries. He was here because the crown demanded it, and the crown always demanded sacrifice—time, autonomy, humanity.

"Do try not to look like you're plotting a coup, brother," Adrielle teased as she strolled past, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. She waved to a group of college students snapping photos. "At least pretend you enjoy being adored."

Lucien didn’t spare her a glance. "Adoration is fleeting. Power is not."

"Gods, you're insufferable," she muttered, rolling her eyes before rejoining the crowd.

The event dragged on. Speeches, handshakes, forced laughter. Lucien fulfilled only the bare minimum of his duties—standing silently during his father’s address, posing stiffly for official photographs, ignoring the hopeful eyes of children who didn’t understand that royalty was nothing more than polished chains.

His mind drifted elsewhere—to reports awaiting his review, to negotiations that actually mattered. The world beyond this glittering facade.

But then, a glimpse of something—someone—caught his eye near the far end of the atrium. A woman, balancing a toddler on her hip while juggling grocery bags, standing just outside the cordoned-off VIP area. She wasn’t watching the royal family like everyone else. She was too busy adjusting the strap of her worn purse and wiping a sticky hand off her shirt.

Ordinary. Unremarkable. Yet, for the first time that day, Lucien’s gaze lingered.

He couldn't explain why.

And, as quickly as the moment came, he dismissed it. Just another face in the crowd.

Turning away, Lucien adjusted his cufflinks and waited for the day to end, unaware that the very life he found so mundane would soon entangle itself irreversibly with his own.

Lucien exhaled slowly, the forced smiles and rehearsed conversations grating on his patience. He stood at the edge of the bustling event, perfectly poised and yet entirely detached. His family, ever the picture of regal warmth, continued to charm the crowd. The cameras loved them.

No one was paying attention to him.

Perfect.

With practiced ease, Lucien stepped back, slipping past the velvet ropes and into the quieter, less glamorous corridors of the mall. These were the arteries of the building, where staff bustled with carts of supplies and cleaning crews worked unnoticed.

His polished shoes echoed softly against the tiled floor, the sound swallowed by the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Here, away from prying eyes and expectations, Lucien found a sliver of peace.

He adjusted the cufflinks of his charcoal-gray suit, the crest of his family glinting in the dim light. His emerald gaze flickered over the rows of plain service doors and unremarkable signage. The world behind the scenes was stripped of pretense—functional, efficient, and refreshingly honest.

If only the rest of life could be so simple.

A janitor passed by, barely sparing him a glance. Lucien preferred it that way. Invisibility suited him far more than the hollow adoration of the public.

He turned a corner, pausing by a vending machine as his phone vibrated in his pocket. A message from Adrielle flashed across the screen:

"Where the hell did you go? Dad's looking for you. Stop brooding and smile for the cameras like a good prince."

Lucien scoffed, slipping the phone back into his pocket without replying. Let them look. Let them wonder. He didn’t owe them his presence.

As he moved farther down the corridor, the sounds of the event faded into a distant murmur. It was in moments like this, away from the weight of the crown, that Lucien could almost believe he was just a man. Not a prince. Not an heir. Just… himself.

But peace never lasted long.

A soft laugh echoed from around the corner, pulling his attention. It was light, unguarded—the kind of sound that didn’t belong in a place like this. Curious despite himself, Lucien rounded the bend and found the source.

A woman.

She was crouched down, balancing a toddler on her hip while fumbling with a reusable shopping bag that had clearly seen better days. The child, a little girl with dark curls and wide brown eyes, clutched a half-eaten cookie in one hand while the other tugged at her mother’s hair.

The woman muttered something under her breath, clearly exasperated but smiling nonetheless.

“Isabelle,” she sighed, adjusting the child on her hip. “If you get crumbs in my hair again, I’m selling you to the highest bidder.”

The toddler giggled, utterly unbothered by the empty threat.

Lucien froze.

There was nothing remarkable about them, not in the traditional sense. No designer clothes, no polished facade. Just a mother and child, navigating life with the kind of ease forged through routine struggle.

And yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, watching the scene unfold like it was something precious.

Lucien leaned against the cold concrete wall of the service corridor, half-hidden behind the arch leading back into the bustling heart of the mall. The polished marble floors reflected the overhead lights, and the hum of idle chatter drifted through the air.

He had no real reason to linger. His family was still caught up in the fanfare of the charity event, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries, and smiling for the cameras. Lucien had long mastered the art of disappearing without notice—silent footsteps, a sharp turn, and he was gone.

Now, he stood in the quiet hallway between storefronts, watching.

Her.

The woman stood near the entrance of a small clothing boutique, balancing two shopping bags in one hand and a lukewarm coffee in the other. Her clothes were practical, worn but clean, the kind chosen by someone who had little room for luxury in her budget.

Y/N.

He didn’t know her name yet, but he’d heard one of her friends call out something that sounded like it.

Her daughter, a whirlwind of brown curls and boundless energy, darted between clothing racks with an infectious kind of joy. The little girl clutched a worn plush bunny in one hand, its fabric faded from too many hugs and washes.

Lucien’s gaze lingered on the woman’s face. There was a calmness to her, the kind of patience born from necessity rather than nature. She didn’t scold the child for running around, didn’t look irritated or rushed.

She simply waited.

One of her friends, a woman with a fussy toddler on her hip, chuckled. “Isabelle’s got energy for days.”

Y/N smiled, tired but warm. “She always does. I figure she’ll tire herself out eventually. It’s just a matter of waiting for her out.”

Waiting for her out.

Lucien tilted his head, intrigued by the quiet strength in her words. Most people—his family included—had no patience for waiting. Everything was rushed, scheduled, calculated. But this woman? She stood in the middle of a crowded mall, sipping cold coffee and watching her daughter spin in circles, as if she had all the time in the world.

Isabelle eventually slowed, cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. She toddled back toward her mother, who crouched down, brushing curls from the child’s face and handing her a water bottle.

“Thirsty now, huh?” Y/N teased gently.

The little girl nodded, sipping noisily.

Lucien’s eyes flicked between them, sharp and calculating. They weren’t remarkable by societal standards—no designer labels, no glittering jewelry, no signs of wealth. Just a mother and daughter, living life quietly and without pretense.

It was… grounding.

The kind of life he’d never known.

Y/N stood, waving off her friends as they drifted toward the food court. “We’ll catch up later. I promised this one we’d check out the sale racks.”

Lucien followed, steps silent as he trailed them from a distance. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to the scene. Curiosity? Fascination?

Possession?

Y/N flipped through the clearance section with practiced ease, fingers brushing over price tags as if mentally calculating which pieces would stretch her budget the furthest.

Nearby, Isabelle tugged at her mother’s sleeve, pointing excitedly at a rack of costume jewelry. Tiny, sparkling charms dangled from the display, each priced low enough for a child’s allowance.

Y/N chuckled. “We’ll see, Isa. Clothes first, remember?”

Lucien leaned against the edge of a column, half-hidden in shadow.

He could leave. Should leave.

But he didn’t.

He stayed, watching as Y/N found a lavender dress tucked between mismatched tops. She held it up, smiling faintly before glancing at the price tag. Her smile dimmed.

Too much, even at a discount.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

He’d seen his mother drop more money on a single glass of champagne at last night’s gala. Yet here stood this woman, weighing the worth of a child’s dress against her next grocery run.

It wasn’t pity that rooted him in place.

It was something colder.

Sharper.

I could fix that.

The thought slid into his mind unbidden, smooth as silk and just as dangerous.

Y/N placed the dress back on the rack with a resigned sigh and turned her attention to more practical finds—plain shirts, sturdy jeans, nothing frivolous.

Isabelle didn’t seem to mind. She had already moved on to inspecting tiaras, giggling as she tried one on and admired herself in the mirror.

Lucien stayed there for a long while, unmoving.

Watching.

Waiting.

And when they finally left the store, arms full of carefully chosen bargains and cheap trinkets, Lucien followed—not close enough to be noticed, but near enough to keep them within his sights.

He didn’t know what he was planning.

But he knew one thing with certainty.

He wasn’t done watching them.

Lucien's footsteps were silent as he trailed behind the mother and daughter, weaving through the bustling crowd without drawing attention. Years of carefully cultivated discipline ensured that no one spared him a second glance. His family’s presence at the charity event had drawn enough focus to the main atrium of the mall—no one would expect the crown prince to slip away unnoticed.

And yet, here he was.

Y/N walked ahead, one hand clutching her shopping bags while the other kept a gentle hold on Isabelle's wrist, guiding her through the throng of shoppers. The little girl bounced with each step, practically skipping as she chattered about the sparkly tiara she’d admired.

“Maybe next time,” Y/N promised, voice soft and patient. “We’ve already got plenty today, Isa.”

Lucien’s gaze flicked down to the bags in her grasp—practical clothes, sturdy fabrics, and a small bag from the discount jewelry stand.

Nothing extravagant.

Nothing unnecessary.

Efficient. Responsible.

He shouldn’t have cared. Shouldn’t have been intrigued by the way she balanced indulgence and practicality so effortlessly.

And yet…

They reached the heart of the mall—an extravagant, multi-level playground built to entertain restless children while parents lingered nearby. Vibrant slides twisted around faux tree trunks, rope bridges connected platforms painted like canopies, and a soft, cushioned floor mimicked grassy terrain.

Isabelle squealed with delight and tugged at her mother’s hand.

“Go on,” Y/N laughed, letting her daughter go. “I’ll be right here.”

Lucien drifted to the shadows beneath the second-floor balcony, leaning against the cool glass railing. From here, he had a clear view of everything—the child scaling a plastic rock wall, the mother finding a spot near the coffee cart, and the clusters of other women exchanging quiet conversation.

The mothers gathered in loose circles, sipping overpriced lattes and sharing stories in the universal language of parenthood—sleep schedules, picky eaters, school gossip.

Y/N, however, didn’t isolate herself.

She approached the group with an easy smile, seamlessly slipping into the conversation without hesitation. One of the other women, balancing a fussy toddler on her hip, gestured toward Isabelle, who was now chasing another child across the padded floor.

“She’s got energy for days, huh?”

Y/N chuckled, brushing loose hair from her face. “Like a wind-up toy that never runs out. I keep thinking she’ll crash, but she just keeps going.”

Another mother sighed dramatically. “I’d kill for that energy. Meanwhile, mine starts whining the second we hit the parking lot.”

There was laughter—soft, tired, but genuine.

Lucien watched, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable.

This was a world foreign to him. He’d seen mothers before, of course—at charity events, galas, carefully staged photo ops for magazines. Polished, perfect, children dressed like porcelain dolls and just as fragile.

But Y/N?

There was nothing curated about her. She stood there, coffee in hand, nodding along as another woman offered tips for getting grass stains out of jeans.

“White vinegar,” Y/N added when the conversation lulled. “Works better than half the expensive stuff, and it’s cheaper.”

The woman beside her nodded approvingly. “See, that’s what I need—practical advice. Not ‘buy this $20 stain remover’ nonsense.”

Lucien’s gaze drifted back to Isabelle, who was now sprawled at the top of a slide, chatting animatedly with another child. Carefree. Safe.

Because her mother made it safe.

That realization settled uncomfortably in his chest.

He shouldn’t care.

He shouldn’t find himself intrigued by the way Y/N stood with one eye always on her daughter, attention never fully leaving the playground no matter how engrossed she became in conversation.

And yet, as the minutes ticked by and the coffee cart emptied, Lucien remained in place. Watching.

Waiting.

Calculating.

Y/N didn’t notice him. She laughed with the other mothers, called out gentle warnings to Isabelle when the little girl climbed too high, and shifted her shopping bags from one hand to the other with practiced ease.

It was a simple scene. Ordinary.

But to Lucien, it was captivating.

Because it was real.

And real was something he’d never had.

Not truly.

His hand drifted to the sleek phone in his coat pocket, thumb brushing the power button. He could call the driver, return to the polished facade of royalty and duty waiting for him in the atrium.

Or he could stay.

And watch a little longer.

He chose the latter.

Lucien lingered in the shadows of the mall’s upper level, his sharp gaze fixed on the playground below. Children dashed between jungle gyms and foam obstacles, their laughter rising like a chorus above the bustling shoppers. But his focus never wavered from one child in particular—her child.

Isabelle.

She flitted through the play structure like a butterfly, light on her feet, brown hair bouncing with each hop. Every few moments, she’d glance toward her mother—Y/N—who stood near a coffee cart, chatting with other mothers. The sight of Y/N’s soft smile, her easy laughter, stirred something unfamiliar in Lucien’s chest.

He didn’t belong here, surrounded by noise and warmth. Yet, he couldn’t look away.

Then it happened.

Isabelle, spinning in a circle with a plastic tiara askew on her head, suddenly froze. Her eyes swept the area—and landed directly on him.

Lucien stiffened. He expected her to look past him, like most children did when confronted by someone with his cold, commanding presence.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her face lit up with a mischievous grin.

Before Lucien could step back into the crowd, Isabelle darted toward him, weaving through chatting adults and strollers with practiced ease.

“Hi!” she chirped, stopping right in front of him, tiara now completely sideways.

Lucien blinked. He hadn’t been caught off guard in years.

“Hello,” he replied, voice cool and measured.

Isabelle tilted her head, studying him like a puzzle. “Why are you just standing there?”

Lucien glanced past her. Y/N was still unaware, laughing with another woman, coffee cup in hand.

“I’m watching,” he said simply.

“Watching’s boring.” She wrinkled her nose. “Come play with us!”

He opened his mouth to decline, but Isabelle was already tugging his hand, far too determined for someone so small.

“We’re playing Princess Rescue! I’m the princess, duh,” she declared, flipping her tiara back into place. “But we need a villain. You can be the evil king!”

Lucien blinked, caught between amusement and disbelief. Him? The cold, calculating prince, playing make-believe?

“No,” he said flatly, trying to withdraw his hand.

Isabelle giggled, entirely unbothered. “But you look like an evil king! All serious and grumpy.”

From across the playground, other children noticed the interaction. A boy with a plastic sword ran up, eyes wide. “Yeah! He’d be perfect!”

Another girl, dressed in a sparkly tutu, nodded enthusiastically. “He can kidnap Princess Isabelle, and we’ll save her!”

Lucien exhaled slowly, realizing escape was no longer an option. The children had formed a semi-circle around him, their eyes shining with excitement.

“Fine,” he muttered, more to end the conversation than out of any real willingness.

“Yay!” Isabelle cheered, grabbing his hand again. “Okay, Evil King, you have to steal me away!”

Before Lucien could protest, she dramatically threw herself into his arms, like a damsel from a fairytale.

Lucien froze, unsure what to do with the tiny, giggling princess clinging to his coat.

“Run!” one of the children yelled. “Take her to your castle!”

Lucien sighed. He cast one last glance toward Y/N, who was blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding.

And then, with the resigned grace of a man who’d lost control of the situation, he adjusted Isabelle in his arms and took a single, deliberate step back.

The children shrieked with laughter, already giving chase.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Lucien—the cold, untouchable prince—found himself playing along.

An evil king, indeed.

“Wait… is that…?”

Y/N frowned and turned to look, her breath catching in her throat.

There, among the bright plastic slides and scattered foam blocks, stood Lucien.

The Lucien.

The man known for his cold demeanor, untouchable presence, and calculating gaze. The same man who could silence an entire room with a single glance.

And he was currently holding Isabelle in his arms, pretending to be some kind of evil king, judging by the dramatic scowl on his face.

The children shrieked in delight, brandishing foam swords and plastic wands as they chased him. Isabelle, tiara slightly askew, was giggling so hard she could barely catch her breath.

“Is that… Prince Lucien?” another mother, Clara, whispered, nearly dropping her coffee.

“No way,” Leah muttered, her jaw practically on the floor. “He looks like he’s… playing.”

Y/N blinked, unable to reconcile the image in front of her with the man she’d only ever seen in stern photographs and fleeting news clips. There was no coldness in his expression now—just reluctant amusement and an almost imperceptible softness as he carefully dodged foam projectiles.

“Mommy!” Isabelle called, waving excitedly as Lucien swung her around like a sack of potatoes. “The evil king kidnapped me!”

Lucien caught Y/N’s gaze for the briefest moment. His usual sharp eyes held something different—something warmer, more alive.

Y/N swallowed thickly.

“Well,” she muttered, voice tinged with disbelief, “I guess even evil kings have their soft spots.”

The other mothers exchanged stunned glances, but no one dared interrupt the surreal moment.

After all, how often did you see a man like Lucien willingly wear a foam crown and accept defeat at the hands of a tutu-wearing army?

The murmurs started almost immediately.

“I knew he had a soft spot,” Leah whispered, her eyes practically sparkling as she watched Lucien stumble back, hands raised in mock surrender as the tiny army of princesses and knights swarmed him.

Clara, still clutching her half-forgotten coffee, chuckled. “You don’t carry yourself like that without hiding a heart somewhere under all that cold exterior. It’s always the stoic ones who melt for kids.”

Another mother, arms crossed and smiling, added, “He’s surprisingly patient. Look at how he’s letting them ‘capture’ him.”

Y/N sipped her coffee quietly, eyes fixed on the scene. Isabelle sat proudly on Lucien’s shoulders, waving her foam sword like a banner. Lucien, for all his usual aloofness, stood perfectly still, allowing the little girl to declare victory while the other kids cheered around them.

The sight tugged at something deep in Y/N’s chest.

“Excuse me,” she murmured with a soft smile, stepping away from the group.

Y/N moved gracefully across the playground, weaving between the running children with practiced ease. The chatter of the other mothers faded behind her as she approached the scene of Lucien’s “defeat.”

“Alright, little conquerors,” she called out, her voice light but firm. “I think the evil king has learned his lesson. How about we let him go before he turns into a grumpy dragon?”

Lucien shot her a glance, sharp eyes softening the moment they met hers.

Isabelle gasped dramatically. “A dragon?”

Y/N nodded, crouching down to eye level with the kids. “Oh, yes. Evil kings turn into grumpy dragons if they stay captured for too long. And grumpy dragons don’t like sharing snacks.”

That did the trick.

One by one, the kids released their hold on Lucien, already chattering about their next game.

“Let’s play explorers!” one shouted.

“No, pirates!” another countered.

Lucien exhaled quietly, adjusting Isabelle on his hip as Y/N stood beside him.

“Saved by the queen herself,” he murmured, voice dry but amused.

Y/N glanced up at him, lips curling into a faint smile. “Well, someone had to rescue you from the tiny terrors.”

Lucien didn’t respond immediately. He just stood there, watching as Isabelle joined her friends in their new adventure, her laughter ringing through the air.

For a moment, the cold, brooding prince looked almost… content.

Lucien adjusted his cuffs, an almost sheepish look flickering across his otherwise composed face. "I didn’t think I’d spend my afternoon being dethroned by toddlers."

Y/N smirked, crossing her arms as she watched Isabelle rally her troops for their next grand quest. “Well, that’s what you get for standing too close to a playground. Rookie mistake.”

He arched a brow, the sharpness of his usual demeanor softened by the faint curve of his lips. “And you just let it happen?”

“I thought it was character-building,” she teased. “Besides, it’s not every day you see the Lucien practically begging for mercy from a five-year-old princess.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, something rare and almost boyish. “Mercy was never granted, in case you missed that detail.”

“I saw.” Y/N leaned in slightly, mock-serious. “You’re lucky I intervened. I’m pretty sure they were about to knight Isabelle and name her ruler of the mall.”

Lucien tilted his head, eyes narrowing in exaggerated consideration. “Better her than some of the leaders I’ve had to work with.”

The two stood there for a moment, caught in an unexpected pocket of peace amid the chaos of the bustling mall. Y/N found herself studying him—the way the harsh lines of his face softened when he wasn’t wearing the weight of his title, the way his shoulders relaxed just slightly in the presence of innocent laughter.

Before she could dwell on it, the crisp shuffle of polished shoes on tile broke the moment.

“Your Highness,” one of Lucien’s guards approached, looking equal parts apologetic and exasperated. “The car is ready. Your parents are waiting.”

Lucien’s jaw ticked, the easy warmth in his eyes cooling back into something more familiar—detached, aloof. He nodded once before glancing back at Y/N.

“Looks like my reign in the playground has officially ended.”

Y/N smiled, tilting her head toward Isabelle, who was now trying to convince her friends to build a “princess fortress” out of foam blocks. “I think the new queen will manage just fine without you.”

Lucien hesitated, something unreadable passing across his face. Then, with an almost reluctant step backward, he gave a slight nod.

“Until next time, then.”

Y/N, ever the survivor of chaotic playdates and endless errands, grinned. “Don’t get kidnapped by tiny rebels on your way out.”

The faintest chuckle escaped him as he turned, the guard falling into step beside him.

And just like that, the cold prince was gone, swallowed by duty once more.

Lucien slid into the sleek black car, the door closing with a soft thud that sealed him away from the noise of the bustling mall. The air inside was cool, sterile—just the way he usually liked it. His guards settled into the front, murmuring into their radios, confirming his departure.

But Lucien barely registered it.

He leaned back against the leather seat, hands resting loosely on his thighs, eyes half-lidded as the car pulled away from the curb. Yet, instead of turning his mind toward the usual mental checklist of meetings, policies, and diplomatic nonsense, his thoughts betrayed him.

“You’re lucky I intervened.”

Y/N’s teasing smile flickered in his mind, brighter and warmer than the sun filtering through the tinted windows. There was an ease to her presence, something entirely foreign to the carefully curated world he navigated. She’d stepped into the chaos of children like it was second nature, effortlessly redirecting their boundless energy, saving him from further humiliation without so much as a second thought.

And Isabelle—Princess Isabelle, self-proclaimed ruler of the playground. Her tiny hands tugging at his sleeve, her wide-eyed insistence that he play the role of the villain. How had he let that happen? Him. Lucien. The man is known for his ruthless efficiency and unshakable demeanor, pretending to cackle as he was “banished” by a band of toddlers.

He exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing at his reflection in the window.

“Sir?” One of the guards glanced back, clearly noticing the rare moment of distraction etched into Lucien’s otherwise impassive face.

“Nothing,” Lucien muttered, gaze flickering to the passing scenery. Yet, the city streets blurred as his mind betrayed him once more.

The way Y/N had crouched to Isabelle’s level, brushing a stray curl from her daughter’s forehead as they admired discounted jewelry together. The warmth in her laughter when another mother had joked about kids having more energy than world leaders.

Lucien’s fingers tapped absently against his knee. Effortless. Natural. He’d spent years surrounded by people trained to charm, to navigate social intricacies like it was a battlefield. Yet none of them held a candle to the quiet authenticity he’d witnessed that afternoon.

“Shall we head to the palace, Your Highness?” the driver asked, eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror.

Lucien hesitated.

“... Take the long route.”

The driver blinked but didn’t question it. The car veered slightly, merging onto a less direct path.

Lucien leaned his head back against the seat, eyes slipping shut. He could still hear the faint echoes of children’s laughter, the soft cadence of Y/N’s voice cutting through the noise.

For the first time in what felt like years, Lucien allowed himself to indulge in the memory. Just a little longer.

The car hummed softly as it sped along the winding road toward the palace, the city lights blurring into golden streaks against the evening sky. Lucien sat in silence, his posture rigid, hands clasped tightly together. Normally, the quiet drive would be a welcome reprieve—a chance to reset, refocus, and push aside distractions.

But not tonight.

His mind betrayed him, looping the same images over and over. Y/N’s patient smile as she crouched beside Isabelle, holding up a glittering tiara that was clearly made of cheap plastic but treated like it was a crown fit for royalty. The way her eyes softened when Isabelle twirled, the little girl’s laughter ringing like bells in the air.

Lucien exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself. What the hell is wrong with me?

Yet, the traitorous thought crept in, unbidden but relentless: What if that was his family?

He could almost see it—the cold, cavernous halls of the palace warmed by childish giggles. Isabelle ran down the grand staircase, arms outstretched, her tiny feet thudding against polished marble as she darted toward him. Y/N trailing behind, breathless but laughing, telling Isabelle to slow down before she tripped.

Would Y/N still smile at him like she had at the mall? Would she stand at his side during tedious diplomatic gatherings, her presence a quiet anchor amidst the meaningless chatter?

The thought twisted something deep in his chest. Lucien had always dismissed the idea of family as frivolous—an obligation for duty's sake, not something to desire.

But this… this wasn’t duty. It was longing.

“Your Highness?” the driver’s voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. “We’ll arrive at the palace in ten minutes.”

Lucien grunted in acknowledgment, his gaze drifting to the city lights beyond the window. They flickered like stars—beautiful, distant, untouchable.

Just like her, he thought bitterly.

But the image remained, stubborn and vivid. Y/N curled up on the couch beside him, Isabelle asleep in her lap, the soft glow of a forgotten lamp illuminating the room. Peaceful. Domestic. Real.

Lucien closed his eyes, jaw tightening.

He’d never been one to chase fantasies. But this?

This felt dangerously close to something he needed.

The moment Lucien stepped out of the sleek black car, the entire palace seemed to still. The guards standing at attention faltered for just a second. The maids exchanging hushed whispers in the hallway fell silent. Even the ever-stoic butler, who had served the royal family for years, blinked in surprise.

Because Lucien wasn’t scowling.

In fact, there was a distinct lightness in his expression, his usual brooding aura noticeably softened. It wasn’t quite a smile—no, that would be too much—but the sharp edge of his usual cold demeanor had dulled, replaced by something dangerously close to contentment.

His best friend and most trusted guard, Elias, stepped forward, eyeing him warily. “Rough evening?” he asked, expecting the usual grumble about dull conversations and suffocating royal obligations.

Lucien merely hummed, shrugging off his coat with an unusual ease. “Not at all.”

Elias narrowed his eyes. “Did someone die?”

That earned him a sharp glance, but the usual bite behind it was absent. “No.”

“…Did you kill someone?”

Lucien exhaled, shaking his head as he handed his coat to a maid. “I simply had an unexpectedly tolerable day.”

That did nothing to reassure Elias. In fact, it only made his suspicion deepen. The Crown Prince did not have tolerable evenings—especially not at public events.

As Lucien strode through the grand halls, the palace staff cautiously peered from their stations, whispering amongst themselves. The murmurs reached his siblings, who had gathered in the lounge. His eldest sister, Celeste, arched a brow when she saw him pass by, wine glass in hand.

“Lucien,” she called out, stopping him. “You look…” She tilted her head, scrutinizing him like one would examine a rare specimen. “Uncharacteristically… pleasant.”

His younger brother, Adrian, leaned forward on the couch, grinning. “Oh, this is concerning. Did you finally find a hobby other than terrorizing foreign diplomats?”

Lucien shot him a flat look. “Hardly.”

Celeste exchanged a knowing glance with Adrian before smirking. “Ah. So it's someone, not something.”

Lucien didn’t answer, but the faint flicker of something in his gaze was all the confirmation they needed.

“Well, whoever they are,” Celeste mused, taking a sip of wine, “keep them around. It’s nice to see you not looking like you’re planning someone’s assassination for once.”

Lucien scoffed, turning away, but even as he walked off, their words lingered.

Keep them around.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Because Lucien already knew—he had no intention of letting Y/N slip away.

Ok this is a minor thing but I cant understland why so many people feel the need to put specificly a blind reader? There's nothing wrong with it but I just don't get why it's been requested so much?

~~Yandere Spain and Romano x Tough Blind Reader ~~

<TW: mention of forced freeding:>

<~spain~>

Antonio will definatly put his guitar skills to use when courting you.

he'll write you love song after love song, some in your native language and some in his. If you haven't fallen for him yet, hearing him sing in Spanish would surely do the trick in making you fall for him.

he'll see your stubbornness as you playing hard to get, god it'll only make him want to have you more.

He has a lot of patience, though if you are being increasingly stubborn at his advances he might do something that you both wouldn't like.

best bet is to play nice

~~~

<~Romano~>

now here is where things get really bad.

Romano isnt known for having the best patience and you being stubborn with him would only cause him to be stubborn towards you as well.

Romano would be the one to kidnap you in a fit of rage after you spit on his best attempts to court you.

though he would feel the tiniest bit sad, he would continue to court you even if you've been kidnapped.

but he won't let you spit on his attempts at courting you.

He'll make you the nicest meal he can and if you so dare to decline it he'll just force you to eat it.

I'd say watch what you do around him, he's one to punish you hard and truly.

~Yandere Alies x Married Reader~

~America~

Alfred had already met the man who dared to call himself your husband (just thinking about him made his blood boil), and wanted to murder him in the bloodiest way imaginable, but he restrained himself.

Thinking of a better way to take care of this ‘pest’ in a more cleaner manner.

He started to become your friend, slowly getting to know you better, he had to bite his tongue to the point of it bleeding every time he saw you walking around with that man who claimed he was yours.

Couldn’t you see how much of a better choice Alfred was to you? He could treat you so much better then he could ever!

It just made the scene of you coming to him crying saying that your husband had ran away with another girl, all the better.

You didn’t need to know the details of what he did, all you needed to know that he was there for you.

He didn’t even have to worry about a the two of you having a baby since he was gone before he could even try anything.

Alfred is going to use your already hurting heart to his advantage with saying how he would never betray you like him, how he could be a much better husband to you.

It’s only a matter of time until you start believing that yourself.

~~~

~England~

Well, this just won’t do now will it?

Arther would unfortunately already know of his little rival but he wouldn’t care that much for them.

Not seeing them as someone who he couldn’t deal with if he had too.

But he wasn’t expecting to hear you say that you were expecting a baby.

A baby?

With him?

Well that’s certainly a, problem.

He’ll fake his excitement saying his congrats and all but he would be thinking of all the ways he was going to dispose of this rat that dared touch you.

This vermin who you danced the devils tango with wouldn’t stand a chance against Arther’s plans on getting you to be his but he did have to deal with him first.

Taking him to a nearby pub for a few congrats drinks. With the man thoroughly drunk it wouldn’t take long for Arther to lead him to a dark ally to show how he really felt towards him.

After letting out all his frustration onto the man who couldn’t even fight back against him (how could you expect him to defend you when he couldn’t even defend himself).

Having to see you cry and mourn about this useless man who didn’t even deserve to be mourned hurt him but he stood strong for you. Holding an umbrella to protect you from the rain, as you cried onto the rats grave.

The baby would only be a set back for him, he would be slightly distant or harsh to the child but it was still a part of you nonetheless.

Besides, it just showed you how good of a parent he could be for your future children.

~~~

~France~

Francis would be devastated when he saw the ring on your finger one day.

How could he be outdone! There’s no better lover then him so why would you choose someone over him!

He just couldn’t make any sense out of your reasoning besides that you had been somehow been horribly confused or that you really didn’t want to be with that man.

That has to be it!

Francis would try to dig up any information about your so called husband that would make you see him in a worse light all while keeping your friendship together.

He knows he couldn’t flirt that much with you since you were married, but he would still complement you nonetheless.

After not being able to find anything that he could land him behind bars, he decides to frame your husband for something he didn’t do.

Deep down he knows that it’s a cruel and unjustly thing to do but it’s not like he had any other choice.

A few misplaced items being found in his car, putting a word in to authorities about some ‘suspicious behavior’ and it won’t take long before they tie him to a murder that wasn’t even by him.

Of course you’ll go straight to his defense but with all the words Francis has been telling you about him, about all those supposedly late night shifts, you’ll start to believe that he’s not the man you married.

After you promptly divorced him, Francis will have all the time in the world to show you just how good of a husband he could be for you.

~~~

~Russia~

Ivan isn’t a violent person, especially when it comes to you, but he can’t deny how this vermin is testing him.

He would look at the two of you with sadness in his eyes, wanting so badly to be the man in your arms who takes you on long walks throughout the city and to take you to the best restaurant he could find.

Oh how wonderful that would be,

He’ll try to get close to you, letting you vent out your frustrations about everything , even things about your husband.

He’ll take those things and blow them out of proportion saying how “that’s not how a husband should treat you” and “He’s taking advantage of you”

You’ll say no to them saying that they were just little fights, but his words would stay in the back of your mind whether you tried denying them or not.

He would slowly start turning you against your spouse with the little things he would say, it wouldn’t take long before you make up your mind to divorce your husband.

The day you came crying to Ivan about you being pregnant, would be a surprise and would seal your ex-spouses fate in his mind.

He wanted to let the man off the hook but now learning that he actually touched you in that manner, oh it makes his blood just boil with anger.

Whether you want to abort or keep the baby he lets you make that decision.

Though if you choose to keep the baby he won’t deny that it hurts him a tiny bit but he’ll make sure that the baby shares no resemblance to that disgusting man (mostly by teaching the baby Russian and all about Russian culture).

Ivan will act as a father figure for the baby having you see how much of a good husband he can be for you and your kid, it’s just for you to forget about your past husband and get you to see Ivan as your new husband.

~~~

~China~

China wouldn’t really want to give that disgrace of a husband any of his time at first, but when he over hears your excited voice saying that you were expecting a child, He knew he couldn’t ignore him any longer.

He won’t say that he never wanted to murder your husband, but thought better of himself then to get his hands dirty.

And besides, death would be a privilege for this disgrace of a human, he’ll make sure that he wished he was dead.

To you, Yao was just another person at the office, you were close but not to the point that Yao would want, but he can deal with just being a friend for now.

You started venting about financial problems to him during y’alls coffee breaks and he would listen and give you words of advice along with putting a bad word about your husband to you.

“If he can’t even provide for the two of you now, how do you think he’ll provide for a child?”

“If he’s staying at work all the time and going on these long business trips, how do you think the child’s going to feel? Not even mentioning that’ll just put more stress on you.”

His words would plant doubt in you with how you view your spouse, and you would notice how much more time you would be spending with Yao.

You just always seemed to have a better time when Yao was around, wasn’t he the better option.

It wasn’t until one day when you were crying on Yao’s shoulder telling him about all the stress and problems your marriage was going through was when Yao said

“You should leave him, and be with me.”

The idea seemed ridiculous to even ponder,

But,

It didn’t seem like you wanted to decline him either.

His waiting would finally pay off to see your ex-husbands face twist to an expression fo betrayal and sadness. Didn’t help that he was struggling financially which was due to Yao’s many friends helping him out.

With finally leaving the broken man with you in his arms he just thought ‘this was how things should be like, you in his arms’.

Yao wouldn’t mind the little issue that would be your child, he would care for it as if it was his own either way (I see him doing the same thing as Russia as he would share Chinese traditions, culture, and make them learn mandarin).

I don’t think they would change how they treated the reader whether or not they were female male or non binary in this scenario✨

~Yandere Axis x Country!Reader~

~Italy~

Feli would feel a sense of wanting to keep you with him at all times and it’s utterly suffocating.

He’ll say that he doesn’t want you to get hurt by anything and when you nearly trip over a step it sends him into a frenzy saying how you could have hurt your self or worse die if he wasn’t there to catch you.

Yes he’s exaggerating but it’s just to keep you safe, that’s all he wants.

most of the time spent with him would probably be in bed cuddling together since he wants you to know that he's always with you.

~~~

~Germany~

Ludwig would switch between being incredibly strict with you one day, to caring for you like you were glass the next.

He knows your strong enough to care for yourself but the voice in his mind saying that ‘you need his protection and that he should protect you’ says otherwise

It’ll get to a point were he’ll always be in the same room as you and if you try to do something without his knowledge he’ll actively keep you away from it and instead doing it himself for you.

He just doesn’t want to risk getting you hurt and he couldn’t forgive himself if you accidentally did.

~~~

~Japan~

Kiku’s always been a hermit at heart so it wouldn’t be hard for him to keep you with him since he has everything that you would want at home.

He’ll take it upon himself to deal with your country matters such as meeting or paper work since he believes that he should show that he can provide for you himself and that includes your country duties too.

It wouldn’t be so bad staying with Kiku since he would let you listen to anime with him (with him telling you what was going on onscreen) and read mangas to you.

You wouldn’t really want to be separated from him since he does so much for you,

What would you do without him?

~~~

Yandere Short Stories:

Hell Fire

Yandere Priest x Herbalist Fem Reader

TW: abuse of power, yandere behavior, manipulation, and forced relationship

Pale hands affectionately cupped the soft cheeks of the sleeping maiden that rested on the bed in the dungeon. A bright smile on the young priest’s face as his fingers traced over her soft lips.

“You are finally here…” Aurel voice was as soft as a breeze. His blue eyes gentle and his lips pursed in thought. “You’re finally within my grasp.”

Aurel glanced around to make sure there were no other eyes watching before he crawled into the small bed beside (your name). His lanky arms wrapped around her vulnerable form in a vice like grip. Aurel buried his nose into her hair and deeply inhaled her sweet scent, a moan escaped his lips from how delectable (your name) smelled.

“I wonder if you’ll be happy to see me once you wake up.” Aurel thought aloud as his hands wandered her sleeping form. “We used to be so close when we were kids… we can get married just like we always wanted.”

Aurel brushed a few of his silver strands away from his blue eyes. His cheeks heated up at how beautiful (your name) had grown to be. “I’ve crawled my way to become a Cardinal, but I’m willing to bend the rules for you… so you just have to accept me.”

Aurel buried his face into her shoulders while he clutched her closer to his chest. His tongue clicked when he felt his she thinned out a bit. These heathens haven’t been feeding (your name) properly, have they? He’d punish them once he married her…

Aurel pressed a few stray kisses to her shoulders before he smiled to himself. He had destroyed her reputation as an herbalist by spreading rumors of her being a witch. It was a desperate and cowardly method, but she refused to be with him. What other choice did Aurel have? (Your name) had forced his hand for the last time and now she had the biggest choice to make.

Become his wife or burn at the pyre.

So am I the only one who feels bad for Darling to suffer in every single yandere story or fanfiction?

Shelby is my most favorite Empire member 🤩

So I decided to make this about Shelby making you a letter for you

I hope you all like it

o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

Yandere Shelby

Shelby the Witch

Empire smp

Season 2

Love letter

Dear GN!Y/n,

Happy valentine day!

I hope you found the gift I left you at your door, it's a bouquet of flowers, I made them myself with my magic it kind of didn't work in a few times but this time it worked.

So I was wondering if you can be my valentines.

Of course you don't have to say yes I know you don't want to date someone who's a screw up but I could try being a good girlfriend for you.

I am always trying for you and only you.

You always encouraged me when I'm feeling down and make me feel like I'm important and strong, but now I want to make you feel important and strong.

And also I have another question for you

is any Empire annoying you?

Like does anyone bother you or like it's on your nerves if so you could tell me their name and "I can just mess with them for a bit".

Sorry for the bad scribbles I kind of fell asleep while making this I was staying all up studying in making potions for the other empires, and studying you for our date, after I take you away from the other empires.

I hope you have a good day on Valentine's Day and maybe we can talk more when you visit me just be careful in the Evermoore.

If you want I can go visit your Empire, and take some stuff so I can smell you every single time I miss you.

And stay there for a bit.

You choose what you want to do send me a letter though if you're coming!

If you ever need magic to solve your problems, I'm the girl you come to.

From, Shelby the Witch

I hope you all have a good Valentine's Day

Nobody had a Valentine's for me but I did be care if someone's Valentine's for another person

⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃💌

ahhh alr! stargazer once again here lmao.

i requested a delusional!yandere!joel x reader, if you're able to do smth like that!

- 🌠

I don't know how I got deleted but it just got deleted

Also this is going to be headcanon

Also please tell me what kind of version of a Empire smp to do like season 1 or season 2

Yandere Empire smp

Joel of Stratos

Joel

For season 2

As a delusional Yandere

Headcanon

(short)

⚠️Warnings ⚠️

Joel being really delusional

Yandere behavior

Kidnapping

Mentioning of marriage?

This headcan is short

Questioning

it's a nightmare

He's like Joey when he was in love with katherine. 😮‍💨 But worse!

Joel is a bit of an idiot what comes to love so when you show one affection of kind. He thinks that you're just praising him and and he love him.

Oh you gave him a gift that's all kind of you does that mean you worship him that you secretly like him if so tell him.

Right now.

Joel loves it when you come visit him.

his own empire, to him it means that you choose him over other empires.

He's really obsessed with you and you can't run away for him. Joel Will give you any gifts or items you need for your Empire you will do anything for you since you gave him some stuff as well. 🥰

Showing any affection you give to the other empires that means to Joel that you just want to play hard to get or you want him to be more jealous if so...game on!

Joel will act like you guys are a cute couple or better yet married.

This God is really delusional.

So when the day he "kidnap" as a term as "Taking on a date but without not asking you."

(I don't know if it makes sense to you but you get the point, right?)

So Joel kidnapping you, surprised that you were screaming at him to let you go.

Why are you telling him to let you go?

Why are you screaming at him to let you go?

What did he do to you to make you like this?

He's doing this because you love him right?

you choose him over the empires!

I would just like to say I'm sorry if it's really short I just like short Headcanon!

(⁠ب⁠_⁠ب⁠)

Hey! Stargazer again! I loved the last fic, and I saw the prompts you reblogged and got an idea. Maybe Yandere!S2!Joel x GN!Reader, with prompts 17 + 29? If you don't do two, then just 29 please. Ty! - 🌠

Yandere Joel The Stratos

Joel

Season 2

Y!Joel x GN!Reader

17 : "oh darling, I am not obsessed, I am devoted to you."

29 : You are like my oxygen."

⚠️Warnings ⚠️

Joel is a short god (I'm sorry ☺️)

Kidnapping

Gaslighting?

Sitting in Joel lap

Chains

You were sitting on Joel's lap as he brush your hair, cuz you escape from your cage and he punished you really badly, causing your hair to get a little bit tangled.

Joel : GN!Y/n, can you turn around face me?

GN!Y/n : o-ok

You turn around, your legs wide open, Your legs were on side of his hips.

Joel smile warmly.

Joel : You are so pretty, MY cute human.

GN!Y/n : J-Joel, I have a q-question for you..

Joel : Yes, what is it MY cute human.

GN!Y/n : why are so obsessed with me, you always wanted me to be with you. Stay with you. I don't understand, why are you so obsessed with me..

Joel : oh darling, I am not obsessed, I am devoted to you."

Joel : want you to stay with me to worship me and praise me so that's why I kept you close to me. I love you so much.

You sat there quietly you did not want to speak to this "God" after he kidnapped you and punished you.

Joel : Unfortunately, you have to get off my lap, because I need you to go get some rest.

You got off his lap and you stood up you watch as Joel stood up as well.

he holded your hand to walk you to your bedroom. He does not want you to walk alone cuz he's worried that you might escape for him again.

In the bedroom, you went to your bed and resting your head on the pillow. Joel pushed you aside a bit to get some space to sleep with you

He put his chest around your face to sleep. Before doing that he put a chain on your leg so you want to escape from him again. The chain kind of heard a bit on your legs how tight it was but you shouldn't have escape for him.

A few hours past by

you saw you sleeping peacefully, Joe smiled feeling like he just accomplished a mission that went successfully good.

Joel : You are like my oxygen.

He whisperer as he said that line.

Joel : One day you will submit to me and you will worship me, praise me and stay with me forever and ever.

He was not obsessed with you, he just wanted someone to worship him.

You are like oxygen to him, So he needs you around.

I am sorry if this is short cuz I like short yandere writings

Me again :) Can I request a fic of Yandere!Pixlriffs x Male!Reader? If you take specifics, maybe where he stalks the reader and the reader only finds out once they find a collection of photos of them or smth? just a thought, you can work from there. - 🌠

Of course

I hope I was not make you feel like I was ignoring you

I apologies if they're that much male reader I'm trying my best

I am not good with fic so sorry it's a little bit bad

Also can you tell me what version of a Empire smp like s2 or s1

I apologize for my bad grammar

-Esther

Yandere Pixlriffs

Pixlriffs x male!reader

From season 2

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Gaslighting?

Pixlriffs is little bit sadistic

Stalking

Scopophobia

Possessive behavior

Yandere behavior

If I miss anything please let me know

Also this is kind of short so

I'm sorry if it's short

Is it just you or why do you feel like someone's watching you?!

In the woods, Even in your own Empire even when you walk alone.

you always feel like someone's watching you.

it's odd.

It's probably just mobs...

Right?

but mobs don't spawn in the morning and don't even make the sound of a camera.

But luckily you're good friend pixlriffs is here to help you.

Surprisely when you're with the pixlriffs.

you don't feel like sounds watching you.

you just feel like someone lovesick eyes by watching you.

It's disgusting

M!Y/n : Hey pixlriffs, can we talk for a bit?

Pixlriffs : of course! what is it?

M!Y/n : I always feel like someone's watching me even in the kingdom, even in my own Empire, or when I'm just walking alone.

M!Y/n : I'm worried that this person who's stalking me is planning to attack me.

Pixlriffs : M!Y/n, Don't worry, I won't let anyone harm you or even touch you. Plus we're friends aren't we friends protect each other right?

Pixlriffs 💭 : I want to be more than friends..

M!Y/n : You're right. Thank you!

M!Y/n : I feel a little bit more safer with you, Plus I don't feel like someone's watching me, so thank you.

Pixlriffs : I promise that nothing will harm you or even touch you.

You were looking around in The Ancient Capital.

And still feel like someone's watching you maybe if you go inside a building

They won't watch you anymore..

So that's what you did you went to a random building and hopefully that no one's going to watch you anymore

What a terrible mistake you did my dear.

You enter the building, it was quite nice

You were looking around and then you notice a door on the floor was slightly open.

You're curiosity got the better of you so you decide to open the door.

It was a basement.The stairs quietly long.

You walk down to the basement and your eyes,

A load pictures of you hanging on the wall even on the floor, even of table.

Even some of your stuff was there that you can never find.

So the whole time it was Pixlriffs.

He was your stalker.

He's always watching you..

He can't get his eyes off you...

You instantly run but then you bought into someone causing you to fall.

It was Pixlriffs.

M!Y/n : Pixlriffs! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!? YOU CAN'T DO THIS, THIS IS JUST WEIRD!!

Pixlriffs : what's wrong with me?

Pixlriffs : I'm doing this for you I've been watching you and studying you. I really loved you from the start when I met you you were such a kind person. I am sick and tired of other empires taking you away from me.

M!Y/n : You're disgusting!

Pixlriffs : Me disgusting? How could you say those things I have done everything for you and this is how you're paying me!

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer to him.

Pixlriffs : I did everything for you to make you happy, but maybe when you wake up you'll be all better soon and you understand, this is all your own good.

Your eyes waiting a bit more when you felt the needle touching your throat.

He passed out on the floor and Pixlriffs smiles.

Pixlriffs : Don't worry M!Y/n, I promise that when nothing will harm you or even touch you. I'm here for you after all we're going to be the best couple in the empire's smp.

He's doing this for your own good so why are you being ungrateful?!

ungrateful boys, don't get a happy ending...

I apologize that this is kind of bad.

Have a good day or night wherever you live!

(⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ