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missglaskin · 1 day

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“You’re such a perv!”

Aka DC Superheroes as pervs; Dick, Jason, Tim, Roy, Wally

Please don't put a community label on this (it will only shadow ban it)

Surely your friend and confidant is not some peeping tom right?!

Warnings; SMUT, female reader, vigilante!reader, Perv shenanigans, panty stealing, masturbation, dirty thoughts, corruption kink, invasion of privacy

Dick Grayson has always been your closest friend; he's the leader, the guy that everyone either wants to be like or wants him for themselves. But the boy wonder had his eyes on you, his oblivious friend. He has always been there, aiding you in missions; always saving the day, or praising you for a job well done. So how could you ever possibly know of his intense desire just for you. Dick knows his actions are downright disgusting, that small voice inside his head filling him with guilt, but his desire is just stronger.

Missions with you are the worst. Watching you be so confident and just kick ass has him feeling all sorts of ways. Trying to turn away from your line of sight so you won't see his hard-on, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his suit. Dick will use any excuse to get away, jerking off on the side of a rooftop, a hand against a wall and another stroking his cock, while he imagines it was your hand instead, and that alone pushes him over the edge.

He'll find a way to make you want him too, Dick knows you're not immune to his charms. Will it be too obvious that when he goes for a hug, it's a little too tight. Is it when he places a hand on your waist pretending to keep you in place, daring his fingers to go further down. Will you push away the hands that place themselves on your thighs to pretend he's comforting you. You won't. Just as you refuse to shove away the fingers that inch closer and closer between your legs. Is it really so bad if you want him too.

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Jason Todd knows he's a sick fuck. What kind of friend is he to even think of such things. But they are just thoughts, right? As long as he doesn't do anything creepy that is. Surely anyone dreams of fucking their best friend-that is, imagining your lips wrapped around his dick while he fists your hair, forcing you to take all of him. The guilt returns when your voice reaches him, asking him if he heard you, interrupting his brief moment of fantasy. He's relieved that the mask doesn't allow you to see how intensely he's staring at you.

It becomes a line he knows he crossed. When Jason found himself staring at your apartment window - he didn't intend to, he was just patrolling and happened to come across your apartment. Knowing you were safe and well should have been his reason to leave, until you started undressing. Seeing your tits exposed made the blood rush to his cock and when you bent slightly to remove your panties, Jason was sure he could have come right on the spot.

You went to take a shower as Jason entered your apartment. Surely you must know to keep your window locked. Finding himself creeping toward the bathroom as if you were beckoning him in, instead, he stopped and stood over the disregarded clothes; reaching for the panties. Jason would have beaten anyone to a bloody pulp if they had done that, but it was his own reflection staring at him. He is a sick fuck, he thinks as his finger brushes over the damp spot and how he shoves it into his pockets. He's not sure if he should return your panties later, given that he eagerly rubbed his cock with it, leaving it cum stained.

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Tim Drake is a wolf in sheep's clothing; he is the one person you never suspect of thinking such perverted thoughts. Tim is aware he can never justify the things he's doing. He just tells himself that he merely lacks the courage to approach you, not that it's a good reason, but it's enough for him to maintain that tiny sliver of morality. There are moments when he wishes he could just concentrate on his patrolling to keep you off his mind, but you are always there, at the back of his mind.

Tim realizes he just can't get off without thinking about you. Tim tries watching some porn, but he keeps imagining your face instead of the actress, and he hates how it helped him reach his orgasm. Or in the mornings, when his boner is becoming too much of an issue and he's in the shower trying to rid of it. His thoughts wander to picturing you in front of him, bare and wet, with your back against the glass walls and you moaning his name.

If there was ever a time that Tim was made known that he was really sick was that day. Him laying in bed stroking his cock and seeing the phone ringing in the corner. It's you. He ought to have just let it ring or decline, but Tim didn't know what possessed him to answer the call. Your voice is heard as he bites his lip to not let his whimpers be heard, tasting copper on his tongue. Tim moves the phone further away when he reaches his high, cum covering his hands and stomach as he continues the conversation, hoping you don't hear his ragged breath.

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Roy Harper was the one person you could always confide in. He had a way of cheering you up, your tears dried as your laugh echoed throughout the room. How you consider him to be your closest friend and best partner in crime as you speak to him, while Roy thinks of how the low cut of your shirt gives him a good view of your tits from an angle. When you call his name to get his attention, Roy gives you that smile of his as he uses an excuse to use the restroom.

Roy loves taking pictures of you. You knew Roy had them, just never imagined he would have them in his sights while he jerked off. Pictures of you with a skirt had Roy fantasize about wearing em while he's railing you from behind. Your face pressed against the pillow while you bubble nonsense, too drunk on his cock. Pictures of you looking up, had him fantasizing of you staring at him with those eyes of yours as you use your mouth, bobbing up and down on his dick.

Unaware too Roy had 'private' photos, all thanks to a few hacking tricks. Roy was occasionally tempted to send you a nude photo of himself, see how you react, and cover it up by saying it was a 'mistake'. Would you perhaps return one or get jealous wondering who it was intended for. Roy gets up, cleaning himself as he’s planning to you meet you later that day. He eyes the slightly crooked tile above his ceiling, storing all the belongings he's taken from his visits to your place. Roy thinks when the two of you are official, he should hide it in a better place.

—-----------

Wally West had plenty of opportunities to hint at his feelings toward you. He liked making flirtatious comments, complaining when he wasn't paired with you during missions, and placing an arm over your shoulders. But you just assume it's Wally's typical self, not noticing his hurt look when you claimed to be "just friends". Then again you never noticed his hurried departure and quick return, where he avoided making eye contact at all costs.

Wally feels the guilt the most. He could have just confessed to you like a normal person. Guilt consumes him when he sees your gullible smile, unaware of the horrible things he did behind your back. It's not his fault really; he was invited to your place and was simply looking around until he found a certain drawer. Wally reassures himself it's not that bad if he only takes one. But it gets to a point where you're complaining to Wally about how your clothes disappear (not telling him which kind).

A point comes where Wally reaches his breaking point. The sneaky pictures, lying on your bed when you weren't around, face in the pillows to inhale your scent could do so little. As he stares at you speaking, Wally makes a move expecting to be rejected, but you kiss him back. He was in heaven, the dreams he had in every waking point coming true. He was where he wanted you to be, on top with you full of his cock, your eyes nearly blacked out as he slams his hips repeatedly into yours. Can you blame him for moving too fast when he has been holding back for so long.

#dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #wally west x reader #roy harper x reader #dc comics x reader #yandere dc comics #yandere dc #dc x reader #dc smut #dc comics smut #smut #yandere smut #yandere x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 1 day

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Title: Puppy Love.

Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.

You heard Yuuji, first.

He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.

But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.

You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.

His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”

“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”

Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.

It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.

You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.

You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—

Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.

Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.

It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.

You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—

“Stop.”

Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”

It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.

Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.

The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.

“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”

There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”

“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”

And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”

His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.

Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”

Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.

Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”

His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”

But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.

“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”

Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #hybrid au #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jututsu kaisen imagines #yandere itadori yuji #yandere yuji #yuji x reader #yuta x reader #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

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losersiren · 2 days

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𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots.

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.” The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath.

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.”

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.”

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough.

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession.

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable.

“Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that?

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them.

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that

“Ambrose…”

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.” The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with.

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.”

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed.

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh.

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord.

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible.

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad.

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

“Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it.

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to.

Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!!

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 day

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The Concert

Yandere Male Alpha x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, crybaby reader, a/b/o dynamics, kidnapping, knotting, biting, musk and pheromones, general yandere behavior Word count: 481 (Just popped into my head, hope y'all like this mini-meal)

You were an omega and your beta bestie had convinced you to go to a punk rock concert. It wasn't really your type of music but your friend really wanted you to go. They promised you'd have fun

You were not having fun.

Your friend had very quickly abandoned you in this huge outdoor crowd of people to go make out with some random guy. Now you were alone, the loud music and large amount of people distressing you greatly.

It was evident in your scent and made you an easy target for a horny alpha looking for just such a vulnerable omega like you.

You jolted as a hand touched your shoulder.

"Sup cutie, I'm Sid."

He was a large man in his early 20s. His smell was potent, even among the scents of the crowd, it made you more than a bit dizzy. You stammered out your name nervously to be polite and tried to inch away.

"Hey don't be like that sweet thing, you smell overwhelmed. How about we go relax in my van? Do you smoke?"

"Uh, no, sorry. That's not really my thing."

Growing increasingly uncomfortable you tried to move away more quickly. You had a feeling that if you went with him you'd never come back.

He grabbed your wrist firmly.

"Hey, don't be like that! We can relax by doing other things. Got a nice knot you can bounce on."

"Let me go!"

You couldn't hold it back any longer and began to sob and cry.

"I can't in good conscience just leave an unattended unclaimed omega that smells as good as you do here all by yourself. Someone might try and snatch you up. You really should come with me."

You tried to struggle out of his grip, to scream. But the couple of people that noticed what the alpha was doing either turned away, not wanting to get involved or gave Sid a thumbs up since he was about to score.

Sid picked you up and carried you to his van, tossing you on a mattress in the back of it. You were sobbing too hard to speak coherently. He peeled your clothing off and bit your neck hard, permanently marking you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry.”

True to his word, he bounced you on his thick knot until you were relaxed, if only because of the exhaustion of going at it for so long. You finally cried yourself to sleep, slumped against his chest with his knot still embedded deep within you.

When he finally slipped out he put his overly large sweaty clothing on you, instinctively cloaking you in his scent, and then put on a spare outfit that he kept for emergencies. After that he tied you up and started the long drive home, because he definitely wasn’t letting his new omega go. Best concert ever… for him…

#yandere x reader #my ocs #yandere a/b/o #yandere alpha x omega reader #gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #yandere boyfriend #omega reader #yandere alpha #My OC Sid

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i-cant-sing · 1 day

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Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere boyfriend #obsessive yandere #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #koh #yandere salauddin

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suiana · 3 days

Text

(yandere! seller x gn! reader) (slight nsfw? idk)

when he said he'd give you a special gift you didn't expect... whatever the hell this is.

you were expecting a free plushie or something, not... not a love letter and money! okay, the money was appreciated but the love letter? what the hell?

'I love you so much... you're so cute, I wanna bite you....'

that's not even the worst part! like, it gets worser from here! he talks about how he knows everything about you... how he would devote his entire life to you if you would just let him...

bro you didn't even know he existed before this online order.

and what's with this weird white stain at the end of the letter? it messed up his name and now you don't even know what to call him!

oh well, maybe you'll email him about it? i mean, he probably won't respond quick since it's a sunday and he's a small business owner but-

[email protected]: hi <3 i see that you are unsatisfied with our product and gift? use this new code for another free gift upon your next purchase!

[email protected]: SIGMA5

okay, what the fuck.

you hadn't even sent him anything.

why the hell did he respond?

how did he know you were absolutely flabbergasted with his gift?

...was he stalking you?

you immediately turn your head, frantically looking around for any hint that he was indeed stalking you. none.

you breathe out a shaky sigh of relief before your blood runs cold again.

[email protected]: that is not very skibidi of you :(

[email protected]: are you afraid of me? please don't be...

[email protected]: btw i'm in your closet lol

you stare at the new responses, blinking slowly before deciding to turn off your phone. you then stand up, walking towards your nearest wall before smashing your head against it in hopes of ascending to the next plane.

that's right fellas! if you don't want to deal with your troubles just bash your head into a wall! haha, what do you mean there's a guy coming out of your closet? just ignore him silly!

"darling! what the hell are you doing-"

ah... you must be ascending already. there's a new voice in the room! he's even trying to pull you away? he must be an angel...

"sweetheart please! this is not very fanum tax of you!"

"i'm wallmaxxing."

"oh. in that case..."

the guy that came out of your closet joins you in smashing his head against the wall.

yes! embrace the joy of wallmaxxing together!

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere seller #yandere seller x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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acid-ixx · 3 days

Text

moaning headcanons a.k.a how loud they moan (part 1)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this is supposed to be crack until it became serious and I can't back out. update: i forgot this draft existed so i hope u like me posting old writing (with me expanding on it). ask for part two with specific characters (next part will contain neuvillette) if you will, i dont mind!

tags:top!gn!reader. implied yandere. implied murder. jealousy. masterbation, jerking off to thoughts of you. (no i will not shut up about how nana's (@koinotame) portrayal of childe changed my entire viewpoint of him, he's my murder baby and he knows it.

— childe : loud. genuinely noisy especially when he strokes himself when envisioning you punishing him. ah, if you're rough enough, he whines and he sputters and chokes. sometimes, he'll increase the volume of his moans just to spur you on. he's a tease and although it's nice to be a good boy— he loves being a brat so you could manhadle him harshly. but when he's lonely and horny, he's always, always not afraid to release his desire. even gagging him with your underwear still wouldn't be enough to muffle his whines and gurgled moans of pleasure. if you hurt him for just the right amount, he'd be cumming even with his dick untouched and that's when he moans the loudest. sometimes, when he feels you don't give him enough attention, he'd be approaching you (and whatever you'd be doing wouldn't matter), latching onto your waist and whining into your ears about how you just haven't been noticing him lately. it's up to you to decide whether you want him kneeling on the hard floor giving you oral or kneading his hard-on through his jeans. just wish whoever your neighbor is a good luck because he won't certainly shut up when he pleasures himself on you. there's times when he's good, when all he does is whine and gasp, but that's only when he stabs his enemies and the crimson seeps into his clothes hard enough for him to feel it damp and stimulate him lightly, thinking of you and your complaints about him staining the carpets again— he hopes you'd use a ball gag this time, with a tight collar while you're at it, just so he could really feel the pain.

— kaveh : his moans are, well, similar to the moans of exasperations he releases whenever his wallet is empty or whenever his roommate irks him. but when it comes to you, it seemingly amplifies to a more modified, girly shriek and teary eyes. he releases high-pitched whines when overstimulated, when he's on the brink of cumming whenever you jerk him off, or when your tongue ventures through his pecs, circling his areola and ignoring the swell of his nipple; and he's begging you with drool running down his shiny lips to just suck his, his "breasts" (your words, not his!) already! he gasps needily whenever you thrust inside him, releasing airy and rhythmic "ah, ah, ah!"'s with every thrust. every time you hit his prostate, he'll be sucking in a breath and gripping on your back for dear life and begging you to slow down while he pants. his dignified voice loses composure though, whenever he rides you. it starts off with bated breaths until it continues with sharp gasping and girlish moaning. he wouldn't even be aware of his own loudness in the room with how his pleasure drowns out any sort of dignity he tried so hard to maintain. it's not his fault that it's rare for you to keep all your attention to him! and he wants it all to himself. so if that means embarrassing himself for a few days just so you could forget about the man who flirted with you days ago— then so be it! he'll look at you with droopy eyes and quivering lips, begging you for more with a slightly scratchy throat and swollen lips. despite being overstimulated, he could go on for more rounds just for you.

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heartfullofleeches · 17 hours

Note

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

#Brie my oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere smut #suggestive #yandere male

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queenie-the-court-jester · 3 days

Note

fun fact bunnies do a mating dance :3 one of the bunnies will circle their mate before making their move.

so i imagine when cotten tries to do it to thereader, the reader is just like 🤨❓before cotton just pounces on them!!1!!

"what the fuck are you doing cotton"

Was the last thing you could say before cotton quite literally danced around you, before tackling you down to the ground and shoving his dick deep inside your poor hole

He made sure he put the kids to bed beforehand, surely they'd all enjoy a few more siblings.

#queenie ocs #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #queenie answers #queenie writes #ocs #yandere male x reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere male #Yandere hybrid x reader #Yandere Bunny hybrid x reader #Cotton the bunny #Yandere oc x reader #Yandere boyfriend #tw yandere #soft yandere #Mdni

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yandere-romanticaa · 15 hours

Text

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

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hotyanderedaddies · 2 days

Text

Yandere Puppy Boy Wants to be Your Good Boy

[Yandere! Puppy Boy! Boyfriend x GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You and Evan have been dating for about a year now. You met in freshman year of college, and seemed to hit it off really well. It kind of amazed you at first that you'd managed to snag a total hunk like Evan.

Evan was the epitome of jock bro: Always working out at the gym, goofing off with his fellow jock friends, and watching tons of sports on TV. Meanwhile, you were a skinny nerd who was at the college on an academic scholarship since you practically lived in the library.

Still, Evan proved to be a great boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, loving-- a total catch. Plus, he was muscular AF!

Then one day, you saw an ad online that sparked your interest, and you couldn't resist purchasing the advertised dog collar that was leather with little spikes adorning it. Once it arrived in the mail, you approached Evan in your shared apartment.

He was on the couch in just his boxers, playing video games. He eyed you, seeing the smirk on your face. "What's up, Babe?" he grunted.

You blushed a little bit. "I just wanted to try something tonight... if you're cool with it?" you asked. Your sex life with Evan was not lacking whatsoever, but it was still healthy to spice things up every now and then.

You pulled the dog collar out from behind your back, holding it up.

At first, Evan laughed. "You want me to wear a dog collar?" he snorted.

"If you don't like it, we can take it off," you shrug, walking up to fasten it around his thick, muscular neck.

The way the leather collar with the spikes fit around Evan's neck made him look really tough, but he felt ridiculous at first. His face was bright red.

You thought he looked kind of cute. "Aww," you cooed, "who's a good boy?" You playfully ruffled his hair.

Good boy...

Something clicked in Evan's brain as soon as you uttered that phrase, and he felt his entire wiring being redone, as if every single instinct he possessed was being reshaped.

Evan's face broke out into a smile alight with zeal, and he dropped onto all fours in front of your feet. "Me!" he happily gushed. "I'm a good boy!"

Holy crap!

You were shocked at how quickly Evan's mind had changed. You weren't sure he'd be into it at all, but looking down at him now, he seemed to be having the time of his life. His muscular pecs heaved with excitement as he sat on all fours in front of you, eagerly awaiting a command. His boxers were already tented out too, damn!

"You're my good boy!" you chuckled as you leaned down and gave your boyfriend some head pats.

"Woof! Woof!" Evan excitedly barked.

That night, he showed you that he was a pro at doggy style, even howling when he came inside of you. The collar was definitely $14 well spent, in your opinion.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Much to your surprise, Evan loved being a good puppy boy for you. Well... "loved" is probably an understatement.

Evan refused to take the dog collar off, even wearing it out whenever the two of you left the apartment for date nights. At first you thought at it was just him exploring his sexual side some more... but as time went on...

Every time you entered the apartment from work or classes, Evan would excitedly bound over to you on all fours, barking happily and begging for head pats and belly rubs. With his massive bulk, he easily pinned you down, refusing to let you move until he got his pets.

Evan would pin you down on the bed, leaning down to kiss you-- but now his versions of kissing were like puppy licks. He'd lap his tongue all over your face, barking with glee despite your annoyed expression.

You'd be sitting on the couch, trying to watch TV when Evan would crawl over to you (he's been constantly walking around on all fours), wearing nothing but his spiked dog collar. He'd mount your leg and start humping it, whimpering as he rutted his hard cock against you like a dog would against its toy. (You had to apologize to your friend, who was visiting, for the awkward sight.)

You'd be trying to fall asleep after a long shift at work feeling so utterly exhausted when Evan would whimper at the foot of the bed. "Whaaaat?" you'd groan.

"Am I a good boy?" he'd whimper, his voice cracking like an injured puppy's.

"...damn it, yes, Evan. You're a good boy," you'd mutter, getting fed up with this quickly.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Your friends were starting to pick up on your change of mood, seeing that you were more irritable throughout the day, and not wanting to leave work immediately.

Sensing this, they invited you to the bar after work, to which you happily agreed.

You loved Evan, of course, but you were totally over his new puppy persona. And despite how many times you tried to tell him, all he'd do was tune you out, and beg for pets.

You really needed a break.

"Y/N?" your coworker, Joshua asked, noting how you'd practically downed your cocktail in one gulp. "What's up? What's bothering you?"

You didn't want to be one of those people who go to others whenever you had relationship problems, but you felt lost. "It's just Evan..." you muttered.

Joshua, who was actually a genuine friend who just so happened to be a guy, put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure things will get better," he smiled at you.

A large part of you felt guilty since you were the one who'd purchased the damn dog collar in the first place, but you couldn't stand the thought of Puppy Evan and having to listen to his barking or him chewing on his squeaker toys for one more night.

Before you could say anything else, a low growl made you jerk back.

Evan stomped into the bar, still wearing the studded collar, his eyes narrowed at Joshua as he bared his teeth at him.

"Grrr..." Evan bellowed out a deep growl, all of his large muscles tensed up, making him look big and ferocious.

Joshua immediately retracted his hand from your shoulder, backing away quickly.

"Evan? What are you...?" you try to ask as your puppy boyfriend wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you roughly into him.

"Mine!" he barked at Joshua, tightening his grip on you.

You were stunned.

He stopped growling when he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered. "You didn't come home," he whined, nuzzling you. "I had to come find you."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, and instead threw you over his broad shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his head up with pride, as a dog does whenever they find a cool stick at the park, and carried you all the way home.

You were mortified, wondering how you were going to show your face at work after that. All you could do was seethe with anger as your puppy boyfriend took you home.

Once you were inside, Evan got down on all fours and whined at you. "Wasn't I being a good boy?" he asked. "Why didn't you come home? I missed you all day!"

"Evan, stand up--"

Evan whimpered like a puppy, nuzzling his head against your hand as he asked for head pats.

That was the final straw for you (a small one, but it was like death by a thousand paper cuts).

"I'm done," you finally huff, walking down the hall so that you could pack up some clothes and leave.

"D-done?" Evan yelped, quickly crawling behind you. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?"

I grabbed your suitcase out of the closet, trying not to look at your puppy boyfriend as he begged in the doorway, perched on his legs with his arms out in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading.

Annoyed, you turned to sneer at him. "No!" you spat. "You've been a bad boy!"

"I'm a bad boy...?" Evan yelped.

You kept your back to him as you packed up your suitcase. Just as you were almost done, you heard that eerie growl again.

"Grrr..."

You quickly turned around and paled when you saw Evan on all fours, standing in front of the door. He was baring his teeth at you and growling deeply, his chest muscles puffed up and making him look all the more menacing. The pissed off glare on his face was akin to a feral dog, and he snarled in your direction.

"E-Evan, please g-get out of the way," you trembled, taking a small step towards the bedroom door so that you could leave.

Evan barked loudly, stomping his hand/paw onto the floor forcefully as he steeled his stance. He continued to snarl at you, lunging forward to scare you.

It worked and you stumbled back, falling onto your ass. You tried to back away from him, but Evan quickly crawled over to you.

He pinned both of your arms down onto the floor above your head, unleashing a loud snarl and he pushed his angry face up close to yours.

"Am I a good boy?" he snarled, baring his sharp teeth at you. "Or am I still a bad boy?"

Your heart raced in your chest. Evan is much stronger than you, and you knew you couldn't fight him off. Plus, the way he bared his teeth at you and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat was much more dog than man, making you shudder.

"Y-yes!" you stuttered. "You're a good boy, Evan!"

Instantly, Evan stopped growling and his broke out into a joyous smile. "I'm a good boy?" he asked, his muscles tensing with with excitement. He still kept you pinned down.

Hell no!

But you didn't want him to maul you or bite out your neck with his teeth. So instead, you slowly nodded.

"You're the bestest boy," you cringed.

Evan's smile grew wider. "'The Bestest'?" he repeated. "I guess if that were true... then you'd never, ever leave. Right?" He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

His chest rumbled as a growl began to form, warning you to answer correctly.

You force a smile onto your face, but it's pained.

"O-of course not," you stammer, your heart falling as you sealed your fate. "You're... my, *gulp, good boy."

Evan smiled widely as leant down to lap at your face as he gave you puppy kisses. "I'm a good boy," he playfully growled as he began to rut his hardening cock against you.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #yandere daddy #possessive boyfriend #yandere puppy boy #puppy boy #good boy #yandere good boy

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 days

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Hi I can't see if requests are open but if they are can i have the third years plus Riddle and Jamil with a reader like Ms Frizzle? like they are very cheerful and school oriented and always willing to demonstrate something for a classmate whos struggling, and going on cool field trip like adventures. like Adeuce struggling with botany? here boys a trip to the botanic garden to study up close is in order. Epel whining about makeup? MC thinks it would help if he saw the whole process, and suddenly theyre making their own face creams for fun. they make mini terreriums with Jade to grow mushrooms and observe the growing process. you get the point. (its also a hc of mine that ms Fizzle sewed all her dresses herself, because just, theyre too cool and specific to be from a store. however you want to put that in)

Frizzle Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Yes having a classmate and lover like that would be fun but imagine a teacher. Like when the mirror brought you and Crowley just assumed you were a student, you bring a finger to his lips and laugh. “School? Honey, I haven’t been on the other side of the desk in a good while!” And suddenly you’re the newest wacky teacher on his payroll. Of course the students can’t help but adore your spunky take on science. But the ones most effected are the staff you end up educating on the art of falling in love obsessively:

Divus Crewel

“This pack of rowdy pups hardly know the first thing about chemistry!”

“Then let’s teach them my Dear Divus! Seat belts everyone!”

“You’re insatiable.”

He absolutely loves you

He just wishes you wouldn’t reward the misbehaving pups so easily

The way their eyes sparkle when you teach and how no one sleeps

He’s jealous

Not because they listen to you

But because they all get to admire you so openly

He’s got a reputation to keep

He can’t be kissing the tips of your shoes in front of everyone

So he’ll settle for letting you teach in your unorthodox way

Dire Crowley

“Actually (Y/n), I was hoping you could do these filings for me! I have this uh thing I have to–”

“Now that’s not right. A man who should be filing isn’t too good at lying!”

“What I’m not–Look if you could just–”

“I have a glorious idea! Let’s explore the molecules of a stack of papers!”

“Nooo!”

At first he hates how you drag him into adventures especially when he tries to shirk his duties onto you

But it soon evolves to him begging to be included on the adventures you take the students on

And by then it’s not just an excuse to skip work

He’s desperately trying to spend some private time with you

But leave it to the pesky roadbumps students who blackmail and threaten him if he gets too close to you

“W-w-w-ait please! I-I’m the adult!”

He’ll have to resort doing something more drastic to get you alone

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere dire crowley #yandere divus crewel #yandere crewel #yandere crowley #yandere nrc staff #yandere x gender neutral reader

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bunny-yan · 2 days

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I feel like “Theodore” would suit the yan!Duke! Just my humble suggestion, I feel like the name holds a certain melancholy to it which is so fitting for his character, sophisticated yet distant. ☺️

TW: power imbalance, suggests noncon, minors DNI

—

“Theo,” you whispered.

He felt your hand gently rub his shoulder to wake him, though his eyes were already open. He was pulling you into his arms, eliciting a laugh as you told him to stop.

He asked you to wake him from the short nap you requested he take since he’d been bent over his desk for the last couple of days, unmoving and looking increasingly exhausted with each passing glance you took as you so happened to pass by his office.

He was stubborn, but he could never say no if he peered too close into your eyes, into that warm concern that threatened to engulf him, swallow him whole. And he would let it. There would be no struggle for escape, and he’d silently beg that you had no intention of letting him go.

It was much warmer than he’d thought it be, than he ever imagined when you held him. You shared it with him for years and yet he still experienced it as if it was the first time when your arms would wrap around him, offering peace.

Comfort.

It was a better high that possessed greater depths than he could ever hope to achieve.

“Theo,” you whispered as if you were sharing the greatest secret.

He loved his name on your lips.

“I hate to wake you, but it’s time to get up.”

Closing his eyes, he pulled you closer, a strange aching in his chest.

An uneasy feeling bubbled and grew the more he questioned it. He didn’t want to let you go.

He wanted his lungs to fill with this warmth, this ecstasy of happiness that would wear off and leave him craving more.

No.

He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want-

“Theo?”

“Duke Theodore.” that familiar voice said.

Cold and harsh, it raked across his skin as his eyes snapped open. They drifted from the ceiling to where you were standing, body rigid and tight at the end of the bed to the two of you shared.

Or, used to.

You hadn’t stepped foot in this room since his King brother visited.

It was as if your positions switched.

The days you used to try and convince him to quit his work early, the two of you would cocoon yourselves in these sheets, knowing nothing was more significant than those moments. The two of you would talk or sit in silence, simply enjoying the comfort of each other’s company.

Most nights his lips would find yours, drinking in your laughter and pulling you closer as your smile shifted to something longing, something unfamiliar these days.

On the nights sleep found you before he did, he’d retreat to his own quarters, not wanting to disturb your rest, the only exception being if he wasn’t able to get a glimpse of you all day.

Theodore would seek you out as if he was in a drug-induced haze, a heavy feeling in his chest that could only be relieved by your presence, on the really bad nights, by your touch.

He felt awful when he climbed into bed next to you, wondering if you’d scorn him for pulling you away from wherever you went when you slept. But you alleviated all of his fears when you murmured his pet name, sleep-filled eyes smiling at him. Beckoning him closer, you’d wrap him in your arms and whisper against his skin that you missed him.

It sent shivers down his spine.

The gaping cavity in his chest ceased to ache.

He wasn’t sure if he was still grateful for the love you shared. If he hated you now that you had taken it away, ripped it from him like everything else he’d come to learn was never his.

He couldn’t deny the devastating hope he felt every time he came to the doors of the bedroom you shared, a hope in and of itself that you’d answer his silent expectation that you’d be on the other side. He’d open the door and greet him with that familiar smile and outstretched arms that he could collapse into.

But it was empty.

You slept in your personal bedroom.

Without your express permission, it wasn’t a place he was welcome and he didn’t dare imagine you waiting for him in his own chambers.

He hated when memories of the younger version of you would surface in his mind.

Nervous but bright-eyed, somehow, you had bypassed the maids who would’ve explained that you weren’t allowed into his private chambers without a prior appointment.

Your marriage was arranged and he could only imagine how you felt about being forced into an engagement with a complete stranger. Theodore was content to leave you to your own devices, no stranger to having distance in his relationships, but you sought him out, going so far as to climb into his bed, looking embarrassed as you undressed.

It was such a pleasant surprise that he made sure to inform the maids not to stop you if you came directly to his chambers and continued in his neglect to inform you of that specific clause in your marriage contract.

You didn’t know then and you still had no idea of the innocent secret he kept.

He could enter your room and you would have no idea that he had no right to be there, but he couldn’t bear to see the distaste in your expression as your gaze landed on him. So he only visited at night when he was sure you were asleep.

Standing on the side of your bed, he longed for the closeness you once shared. He stood so close he could’ve reached out to brush your hand across your cheek, hoping to alleviate whatever caused you to wear such a tortured expression. He felt such urgency to pull you from whatever it was, but his fears won these days. Not wanting to risk your expression worsening when your eyes opened.

He stood close, not at an uncomfortable distance like you were at now, close enough that he had to physically resist the urge to take your hand in his and squeeze until you won whatever unconscious battle you were fighting.

Theodore sat up, watching as your folded hands, pressed tighter into your body. He felt like a child, caught with their hands in a cookie jar as you narrowed your eyes on him. Sleeping in this room the two of you were meant to share did little to hide his desires.

Clearing your throat, you crossed your arms as a comforting gesture, telling yourself that you were fine. Despite having avoided this bedroom like the plague since the night it happened.

“The maids told me that they had difficulties waking you.”

He thought back to the dream he was pulled away from, mourning the fuzzy edges as it began to fade from his mind.

It was no wonder.

“I’ve woken you up, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Turning, you continued, “I’d appreciate it if you could give this responsibility to the butler in the future.”

A line meant to further separate you.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “When can I expect your presence in this bedroom?”

He watched as your jaw clenched before you turned to face him once you mastered your emotions.

“If it is up to me, you’ll never have the pleasure of my company again.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, his gaze wavering.

You frowned. He’d never looked at you like that before.

“It’s a part of your matrimonial-”

“Duty. You love to remind me.”

Any guilt you felt disappeared as you considered what he was asking of you.

You hated this room.

It took what felt like hours just to work up the courage to walk in.

You were sleeping, unable to stay awake as you waited for your husband to finish talking with the King. He seemed tense and you wanted to ask him about what was on his mind.

You’d woken up cold, to the feeling of hands slipping underneath the shirt you were wearing. You blinked the fuzzy haze away murmuring the name you called him, before your heart stuttered in your chest and your blood ran cold at the sight of harsh golden eyes.

You couldn’t understand why you ever thought they looked alike.

“You call him Theo? How cute.”

When you could force air into your lungs and you could finally listen to your brain yelling at you to move, you scooted backward, using the blanket as a flimsy shield.

“Your Highness,” you began, breathless as you struggled to find an appropriate response in this incomprehensible situation. “I apologize if the maids directed you to the wrong bedroom, but your chambers are located on the third floor.”

You didn’t like that smile that remained plastered on his face as he watched you.

“I’m aware of where my quarters reside.”

Then why was he here? Why was he standing over you while you slept? Why were his hands-

“I’m not sure I understand Your Highness.”

He remained quiet.

Swallowing to bring moisture back to your throat, you asked, “Does Theodore know you’re here?”

It was a weak attempt to move the conversation along, but asking after your husband seemed like the best thing to do at the time.

He smiled, expression bordering malignancy as he answered with two words. Two words you didn’t expect to rattle you as much as they did.

“He does.”

The King began pulling at the cloth at the edge of his fingers, removing his gloves lazily.

“From what I understand, this bedroom directly connects to both your private chambers, so I suspect little Theodore has sought refuge in the library on the far side of this manor or outside on the training grounds. I can’t imagine him wanting to be close for this.”

The paired condescension and amusement were almost enough to distract you from your overlying question.

For what? is what you wanted to ask, but your throat lost its moisture at the sight of the King beginning to undress, quickly painting a picture you were trying not to accept. You’d heard about his promiscuity, with nobles, some of which were married, but not like this.

“One thing you have to understand about my brother is that despite his acts of bravery or his stone-cold appearance, it is all the bravado of a coward.”

He removed his coat to begin unbuttoning the shirt underneath. The fear that gripped your insides allowed you to find your voice.

“Your Highness,” you licked your lips, feeling your body seize with alarm, but trying to maintain a modem of calmness so your voice wouldn’t sound so stilted. So alarmed the more exposed his chest became. “I apologize if there is any perceived rudeness in my question, but why are you getting undressed?”

He laughed.

Slow, grating laughter that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

“I can’t very well make love fully dressed, can I?”

Your heart sank, but you didn’t dare to comprehend his answer to your foolish question. You were rooted in place. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move.

His words refused to register in your mind.

Any moisture you attempted to retain had dried, making any sound you tried to emit, little more than a voiceless whimper.

This was the King.

What could you say to refuse? Were you even allowed to? The constant dread was beginning to grow, your heartbeat loud in your ears the more exposed he became.

Theo.

Theodore. Where was Theodore?

There was no way he would be okay with something like this happening. He would say something to defend your honor. The King was his brother.

But the King said he knew. Was he lying? Were his words a mere falsehood to placate you into silence? It couldn’t be true.

“Your Highness, please wait a moment,” you said, your voice hitching as the bed dipped from the unfamiliar weight. It snapped you out of your frantic deliberation. “I don’t think this is right. Please allow me to speak to my husband.”

“Be silent.” The King ordered. You were too panicked to hear the strain in his voice.

Irritation was present on his features as he stripped himself of his shirt and began to reach for yours.

“My word is law. Your feelings matter none in what is about to happen and there is no use seeking out your husband because he has already consented to this arrangement.”

His words struck a new sense of fear in your heart, but you couldn’t help it as your hands shot to his wrists to prevent him from exposing you any further.

With narrowed eyes, he said, “I’m not interested in making this a contest of strength. You will lose.”

You looked into his eyes, a lump forming at his gaze that was unashamed in its indifference.

“If you insist on making this difficult, I am more than willing to pay your Baron father a visit with the Royal Guard.”

The night was a blur after that.

A truly unforgettable experience.

You weighed the livelihoods of your parents, your younger and older siblings against a crack in your soul, and you still failed to come to an answer that you felt you could live with.

Somehow, Theodore couldn’t understand this. You didn’t think he ever would as he demanded the same act in the same room regardless of how it made you feel.

Maybe they were alike after all.

“If the Duke desires to push this issue then please schedule the appointed time for the end of the month in order to give me enough time to prepare myself.”

He grit his teeth. It was a slap in the face. His hidden pleas for affection were met with professional indifference, that of which he had never experienced before.

Not from you, at least.

“I wish-”

The words caught in his throat as your cold eyes met his.

I want things to go back to how they were. I want you to love me like you used to. I miss the way you used to look at me.

The longer he remained silent, the deeper that emotion that couldn’t quite seen to name became.

“By your leave,” you said, not wanting to feel inclined to feel sorry for him, knowing the guilt would creep back in if you stayed any longer.

After another moment of silence, you tried not to make it look as if you were running to get away.

You didn’t want to picture the regretful longing on his face.

It gave you yet another reason to never want to set foot in this room again.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere duke x reader #yandere duke #yan!theo

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