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yandere-sins · 7 months

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Cupcake

Okay I will admit I've been soft-yandere yearning for a while now, but it's my birthday and I deserved them!! There’s nothing better than some self-indulgent fanfiction (;

Fandom: Call of Duty Characters: Yandere!Ghost x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Mentions of Punishments/Kidnapping, Forced Relationship, Emotional Distress

You didn't react to the sound of boots on concrete floor or the lock of the door clicking, hinges squeaking as someone entered the room.

Giving him attention was pointless.

You knew too little about him to get under his skin with words alone. Every bicker seemed to bounce off his broad chest with so much strength, it hit you right back in your face. You could never keep your arguments from sounding like childish complaints, and he chuckled at anything as direct as "I hate you!"

Instead, this man—"Ghost" you reckoned he called himself—seemed to bask in every minute of your putrid hatred. You could always assume the wisp of a smile beneath his mask, his eyes searching for yours no matter how much you glared at him. He possessed no inhibitions whatsoever, pushing, pulling, throwing you wherever he wanted, when he wanted, and not always gently mind you.

Yet, he pulled off his gloves before touching you, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks while he told you to stop crying now. That everything was okay and you shouldn't ruin your pretty face. He squeezed into the bed with you—the mattress too small for him alone, a coffin for both of you—shielding your body with his from the door so neither friend nor foe would see you first if they came inside.

Ghost made sure to top off your food with the ingredients you liked from his own plate when you were visibly upset. And on the nights when you were unconsolable, he pulled you on top of his chest despite the struggles, resting your head above his heart while he played with your hair or held your hand, intertwining your fingers.

It was hard to say what was going on in that man's head. His eyes spoke of wonders you couldn't see, but his punishments were so severe, so unforgiving as if you had personally harmed him in another life. You could be glad that you could still count ten fingers on your hands and ten toes on your feet, seeing how his mood shifted unpredictably at any moment you two were together.

So, it was best not to acknowledge him.

Even when everything inside you screamed profanities at this bastard, you tempered yourself with deep breaths. A deep inhale through the nose, and a long exhale through the mouth. Deep in, long out. Deep in, and a long breath out...

Zing.

The unique sound of a zippo reached your ear despite your meditation having been able to fade out his presence behind you. This sound was unexpected, new. Ghost and new impressions combined as well as fire and gasoline, so this was scary. You didn't know if he picked up a smoking habit or would burn you just from the sound alone.

You couldn't help the rather violent reaction to the fear that snapped your muscles tight. Jumping into action, you threw the blanket you had wrapped around yourself away, sliding into the farthest corner away from him. Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you, time coming to a brief halt as you mustered the absolute unit of a man in front of you holding a... cupcake.

Blue wrapping, yellow icing, and a flickering candle on top.

Ghost snapped the zippo shut after he had waited out your reaction, his shoulders relaxing after he concluded you wouldn't do something stupid. You had just been surprised. He let the silver square sink into his right pocket while the small flame illuminated his mask in a warm yet even more spooky way than it always was.

"Happy Birthday," he said, tearing you out of your state of shock. Your gaze jumped from the mismatched-colored cupcake to his eyes that rested on you, full of that disgusting, heart-wrenching adoration he harbored for you. Things were calm, too calm. Ghost was too relaxed, only holding the cupcake and not a weapon or anything remotely dangerous in his other hand. You couldn't trust the peace. Couldn't rely on his words or the actions you were seeing.

"Wait, what?" it suddenly hit you, your eyes widening. "Is it... Is it really my birthday?"

Prying your eyes off your captor, you looked to your right, to the small table across from the bed where Ghost had hung up a calendar for you. He'd been crossing off days diligently for you since you couldn't be bothered to keep up with the task on some days, Ghost knowing that time seemed to pass you by in weird intervals without a window in your room. And he was right. Damn.

Taking another step toward you, you didn't cower away, letting your guard down as you breathed out heavily. That meant you had vanished from the face of the earth for months now. No one would come looking for you anymore; the hope of your survival and return would have been smashed. What a depressing thought on your birthday, your family and friends surely heartbroken about your absence, just like you were.

The bed creaked as Ghost sat down, his weight shifting the mattress in a way that made you aware of his closeness. You collected your legs, keeping them away from him to not give him any chance of quickly grabbing you. But when Ghost held out his hand, it was filled by the cupcake stretched towards you, and he handed it over without another word.

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his and the pastry, but hesitantly, you picked it up, feeling the squishiness of it, a sweet smell drafting into your nose. The warmth of the ficker licked at your skin as you held the cupcake in front of you. So small yet so thoughtful. You thought a whole lot about this psycho, but to think he'd remember your birthday when not even you did? You couldn't even remember when you told him the date, much less expected him to prepare something for you.

Not like there was anyone else who'd care about it now.

Immediately, tears shot into your eyes as you realized you were truly alone. No one would come to save you, and nothing would change unless you could win against your captor. Even when he was with you, you were still alone. And even when you blew out the candle, wishing for these things to change, you knew the wish was wasted.

Sniffling, you bit into the cupcake, frosting getting stuck on your nose and lips, but you didn't care. Sugary sweet and buttery, the taste of homemade cupcakes like your mother would have made them coated your tongue and teeth, remaining there even when you swallowed, bitterness clogging your throat while the delicious treat produced enough serotonin to jump in joy.

You managed to devour half of it before the tears and stuffy nose caught up with you. Even your free hand couldn't wipe away all these emotions overrunning you. Fear, pain, hopelessness. The feeling of being stuck here and so, so alone. It needed two more hands, big, calloused, and warm, to gently hold your face between them, wiping relentlessly while hushing you softly.

"It's alright, darling," Ghost murmured, his voice invading your brain that couldn't detect all these phantom pains you were feeling but soothed them regardless. "I'm here. Everything will be okay, sweetheart."

It certainly wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it did the trick, keeping you from the panic attack that slowly built inside you. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you took another bite, sniffling and with tears falling relentlessly still. But Ghost's hands never disappeared. Instead, his thumb began to wander, brushing off crumbs as you devoured the rest of your treat, leaving nothing of this kind gesture for him as you were unwilling to share what little happiness you had been given.

Crumpling up the paper around the blown-out candle, you threw the trash away, finally having both hands free to wipe your own face and get a grip on yourself, your vulnerable side having come out shamefully. But even when you pushed away his hands, Ghost's presence right next to you didn't vanish, his body now much closer than before.

"Happy Birthday," he said again, gripping your shoulders. You huffed lightly, feeling exhausted after your cry, but before you could react, the sudden feeling of lips against yours threw you off.

You hadn't even noticed him pulling up his mask to reveal his mouth, lips more greedy and desperate than ever finding yours. Teeth and tongue played and nibbled, not so gently asking for entrance, and you... gave up. You had no strength to resist. Play a game you were bound to lose anyway, Ghost always cheating. And immediately, feeling your surrender, his hands slid back to your face, cupping your cheeks so he could deepen the kiss.

It didn't help. Didn't soothe the aches in your heart and didn't make the tears stop, but the intrusion of his tongue and the sweet taste now coating it distracted your thoughts. Ghost seemed to try to tell you that no, you weren't alone. You'd never be. He'd always be with you like he swore up and down. He'd protect you, take care of you, and love you.

Kidnapping, locking you away, and forcing you to do what he wanted didn't exactly scream protection, care, and love to you. But an annoying, nagging voice started to speak up in the back of your mind. He wasn't wrong. As long as you had to endure this horrific living arrangement, he'd be with you. He didn't leave you alone, didn't forget your birthday. You doubted even that he spent a single moment of downtime without the thought of you on his mind, considering how obsessed he was.

It would never be enough to satisfy you, though.

There was no way he could ever mean enough to you to make you love him. You'd never forgive him, never submit to him fully, body and soul. But at least on that day, the day that grieved you so—a joyous occasion turned bittersweet by your suffering—you weren't alone. He was there with you. He cared. Did he care enough?

"You're not going to sing for me?" you asked him, half-joking, half-challenging.

Ghost mustered you for a long moment, then you heard him huff, amused. He shook his head before pulling you towards him. You allowed it, no strength left to struggle. "Only because it's your birthday," he reminded you, and you caught the corners of your mouth turning upwards before you reminded yourself not to be amused by his banter.

His heartbeat was calm and gentle, nothing like the things you knew he could do to you. Ghost turned you both over until he could climb into bed with you, laying you down on your side, facing him and not spooning you like usual. It was a tight squeeze, but with his arms around you, face nuzzled into his chest, it was warm and comforting. Safe—for now.

Happy Birthday to you.

You almost didn't want to believe him when he began to sing, keeping his voice low. Ghost never wanted to rourse the suspicion of anyone else that possibly lived next door to you. His gruff voice didn't really fit the upbeat song, even with his accent tingling on every word. This time, you couldn't help but grin at the absurdity of the situation, but you listened, regardless, while being held in his arms as if you were meant to be there.

Happy Birthday dear darling.

Wearily, you closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat mixing with his voice. The man you hated the most was holding you and singing to you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. As if it was meant to be this way all along, almost making you forget the pain and suffering he had caused you in the past. But when he held you like a rare treasure, fulfilled your wishes, and went out of his way to care for you, you almost believed his version of love to be true. You almost started to believe the many times he said he was doing all of this for one reason only: "I love you."

Maybe he did.

Happy Birthday to you.

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lululandd · 10 months

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part-time psycho;

pairing: yandere!ghost x f!reader

wordcount: 1,921

warning: mentions of murder, implied cheating, jealousy, possessive behaviour

note: please understand this is fiction, i do not condone any of these behaviours irl (also on ao3)

summary:

He’d be out drinking with his work friends, he said. Won’t drink too much because he had to drive home after, he said. You don’t have to pick him up because he doesn’t know what time he’ll be back, he said. Some of his friends might get super drunk and he might have to drive them home, he said.

Those were the things you remember him saying before he kissed you goodbye.

You were roused from sleep by the sound of the front door slamming, and then people talking. There was an unfamiliar voice besides Simon’s, but you try not to listen too hard. But even your sleep-addled brain noted how odd that there were giggles and chuckles one moment and then… dead silence. Something felt wrong, the little voice in your head—the voice that kills people in horror movies, Simon would say—tells you to go check to see what it is. Groaning a little to shake the lethargy from your bones, you get out of bed and walk towards the stairs, but you only made it halfway down.

A woman was sitting on top of him, on the sofa. The woman Simon introduced you to months ago. His co-worker, his teammate, the person that has taken a bullet or two for him and vice versa. You can’t lie, she intimidated you from the very beginning. Their apparent closeness, their easy banter that you can never follow, the countless inside jokes, the way her hand always landed on him when she thought you weren’t looking, and her features. They were so similar to yours, and you don’t know which is worse, whether you came into his life first, or her.

Drowsiness left you as anxious dread seeps in. They spoke too quietly for you to hear, but you don’t care. Friends don’t sit on each other's laps like that, and certainly not facing one another. Feelings of inadequacy filled your mind as you walked briskly towards the front door and took off, grabbing whatever coat was on the hook. You just had to get out of there, far away from what you had just witnessed. Wiping the tears that blurred your vision, you notice your feet take you to the nearest pub, and you stand outside dumbly for a couple of seconds.

That night was bitterly cold, and you wished you had taken a thicker coat. Putting your hands in your pocket, you realise you have no money. You didn’t take anything but the spare house keys, your phone, and the coat on your way out. The slippers you're wearing are the fuzzy kind meant for indoors. Digging in your pockets, you hoped past you left a couple of quid in there. You found two tenners in the inner pocket, and you shuffled inside to get a drink or two.

The pretty bartender with the large earrings noticed you immediately and asked whether you need help and if she should call the police. Glancing at the mirror behind the bar, you saw you were a complete and utter wreck and she was right to be worried. You made sure to convince her that you were just sad and not some victim of domestic abuse before ordering some shots. She gave you a worried look before grabbing the drinks.

You downed both drinks in quick succession as soon as they arrived. The first burn hadn’t even registered fully before you chased it with another one. Today’s not the day for sane choices and comfort, you need to dull the pain as quickly as you can.

It’s funny, being tipsy. Your brain doesn’t even know when it started, you suddenly are. It doesn’t matter much anymore that Simon had brought a woman that looks much like you home, you can live just fine without him. It’s not like he’s the best boyfriend anyway, he left so often and so long sometimes you don’t feel like lovers. Maybe he had already demoted you from that position long ago and you were too stupid and blind to notice.

It took you a while to realise someone was sitting next to you. Letting out a deep sigh that definitely lasted longer than you thought you could, you didn’t even have to look to know it was him.

“Will you be coming home tonight?”

You’ve heard this tone before. It’s the careful one he uses when he knows you’re upset. The voice that is laced with sympathy and understanding. But this time you don’t know if that question was borne out of malice or legitimate concern, so you ignored him. The glass of water that the pretty barkeep gave to you looks very interesting right now.

The silence stretched for a painful amount of time before it was Simon’s turn to sigh. “Would you believe me if I told you I was drunk and rejected her advances?”

You were bitterly reminded of how she was sitting on his lap earlier. How close her face had been to his. How her hands had been curling on his neck, and his hands probably sitting on her waist. You didn’t see or didn’t remember, but that’s where your mind placed it, the only logical place it could be.

He slid his car keys your way. “Wherever you’re going, at least take the car. Don’t take cabs this late at night.” And when you didn’t react, he left.

You left the pub after your fifth glass of water and a repeated play of Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’—the staff were laughing while you heard one yell out profanities from the backroom—to check on the car. It suspiciously had your wallet, his hoodie, some cash haphazardly thrown on the front seat, and a large knife when you checked the glove box. You looked at your phone and mass texted your friends to see which one of them was awake and kind enough to let you crash at their place for the night.

One of your best friends replied, and you decided to go there immediately. They kindly offered their place for a week or two, but you ended up leaving on the second day. You had calmed down a little, and your friend suggested you talked this out instead of just making more and more assumptions in your head.

“The longer you’re not talking, the more your brain makes shit up.”

You joked that they just wanted you out asap and it ended up in a pillow fight that made you forget about your problems for a little while.

Driving home was the hardest. The scene keeps replaying in your head and your brain racks up the jealousy. How long have they been going behind your back? Is he just dating you because he can’t have her for some reason? Was whatever he was saying true, that he rejected her advances?

You found a parking spot not far from the house because for some reason you didn’t want him to see you coming.

As you opened the front door, you were met by two set of eyes looking bewildered at your direction. Simon’s arms were still on her waist while hers were draped over his shoulders.

Fuck these people.

Fuck him.

You threw Simon’s car keys on the floor and walked out, ignoring his pleas for you to wait and listen.

There was only one place to go now. Your parents. They welcomed you graciously, knowing you had a fight and wanting some space from your boyfriend even when you didn’t tell them at all about what happened. A week went by without any calls or texts from Simon, you decided it was time to go back and pack the fuck out of your stuff to live with your parents for a while. Why should you even think about being with him when he doesn’t even try to apologise. Living with your parents has reminded you what love could–should–be. Waking up next to each other every day, knowing they’re safe and within reach and not whatever it is you have with Simon where he goes missing for months at a time without contact. It was nice waking up to the sight of your parents chattering about, jokingly telling you to not burn the house down as they go to work, reminding you of your teenage years.

Thankfully Simon wasn’t home when you went to pack. It’s decided that you’ll only take your clothes for now and leave the paraphernalia for later. If you’re lucky, his job called while you were away and you can pack in peace.

But you weren’t so lucky.

“You’ve lost weight.” You jumped at the sound of his voice. Simon was a deathly quiet man when he needed to be. You didn’t hear the front door being open and shut or even his footsteps. He looked awful, his face unkempt with bloodshot eyes, his hair mussed, and his clothes dishevelled.

“I’m not wearing makeup so I look shit.” You retorted.

You had to look away as soon as you saw him bristle. He stayed silent for a while, his gaze focused on every facet of your face before going back to staring you down.

“Why are you lying?” His voice came as a quiet snarl, a low gruff that sounded like it hasn’t been used in days.

“Because that’s also what you’re doing.” You threw the meanest look you could towards him, and you’d like to think that’s why he broke eye contact with you. Unable to help yourself, you continued, “Rejecting her advances my ass, Riley.”

Hearing his last name, he proceeded to cut across the room and reached for you, strong arms instantly curling around your waist as he turned you around to face the open armoire. You felt the need to run, to fight back, but what else could you do but submit? The man is 193 centimetres of pure trained muscles that can hold you full nelson for however long it takes him to fuck you in front of the mirror until he feels satisfied, while you run out of breath carrying the neighbour’s fat tabby for two minutes. You are a little rabbit at the mercy of a wolf.

Weak.

Pathetic.

“I'm truly sorry you had to see me when I tried to lure her into a false sense of security.” He pulled you even closer, your back gently bumping against his chest. “If I drove you to where her head is buried will you finally believe me?”

Only half the words registered in your mind, “Simon this isn’t funny.”

Trying to wriggle away awarded you with a hiss and him nuzzling on the crook of your neck.

“Wasn’t joking, love.”

“Simon.” You pleaded desperately. You felt sick. You knew he was a dangerous man, but he had told you, convinced you, that he would never hurt y–

Realisation hits in a revolting wave of nausea. He had never said he wouldn’t hurt others. “Simon?”

“Yes, dear?” He muttered, lips pressing intently against the sensitive parts of your ears.

His hold no longer felt safe, there’s desperation and a dangerous kind of hunger lingering underneath his touch. “D-did you keep a trophy? Of her, I mean.”

You think if he could just show you some sort of proof, you could somehow take it and just start running.

“Why the fuck,” Simon’s voice was suddenly laced with seething fury that you flinched in his arms. “Would I keep trophies of people that caused you pain?” His statement chilled you to your core and you stopped trembling for a moment.

A choked, terrified whisper escaped you. “S-Simon?” Sickness curled your stomach, your knees buckled as you swayed. You don’t know when your Simon had left and replaced with this monster, or whether there was a Simon at all in the first place.

You felt his lips twitch and curl into a smile on the junction of your neck. "Yes, love?"

“Why was that plural?”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #yandere simon ghost riley #yandere!ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere mw2 #scuffed writing #scuffed yandere #call of duty #yandere call of duty

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whinesandwhimpers · 5 months

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cw; murder, noncon

missionary sex with your boyfriend until you're close to orgasming when yandere!ghost breaks down the bedroom door in a fit of jealousy and rage and pulls your boyfriend off and out of you, wasting no time slashing his throat, throwing his body on the floor, and taking his place on top of you, quickly pulling his throbbing dick out and immediately pounding into you relentlessly.

you who is in shock and wailing over the fact that your boyfriend just got murdered right in front of you and now some random big man in a skull balaclava is fucking you but now you're cumming on his fat cock because you were already so close and he fills you better than your boyfriend did

#yandere!ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #my writing

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saturncodedstarlette · 1 year

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Ghost, walks up to them slowly : Everything I’ve done I did to keep you safe.

Ghost, tosses the dead body away : I killed all those people so you didn’t have to.

Y/N, hearts beating fast : I [never] asked you to do that!

Ghost, backs them to a corner : But I did it anyways.

Y/N, eyes frantically looking anywhere except him :

Y/N, tries to breathe : W-why? Why…w-would you do that for someone you—

Y/N, legs gives out to the floor : F-for someone… you barely know?

Ghost, with his bloodied hands :

Ghost, softy cups his darling’s face, stains them with blood : Because even if you don’t remember me—

Ghost, with a total untameable lovesick look : ——us, I still love you.

Bonus

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gogh-with-the-flow · 1 year

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Guys help me find this fic please I'm begging

It was a Yandere!Ghost fic where ghost stalks reader on leave and they fuck, but she regrets it, and he becomes obsessive. Reader gets scared and stays at soaps house and Ghost gets furious. Please I need help

#yandere!ghost

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blondieeu · 4 months

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killshot. konig.

konig! who has an extremely high sex drive and could go for dozens of rounds without getting tired because of how big he is.

konig! who stuffs you full of his thick cum and keeps going and overstimulate the both of you everytime you fuck.

konig! that doesn’t care that he just got home from deployment and is in the hospital for a broken leg and still wants to have sex in the hospital bed regardless of the doctors orders.

“please, i don’t care about that..cock hurts much more.. ich brauche dich..):” (i need you.. ): )

konig! who ends up fucking you to the core of the earth in that hospital bed after you pull the blinds and lock the door.

konig! who doesn’t shave because he thinks it’s hot when your slick gets caught in his pubes

konig! who you have to literally beg to stop eating you out because he’s been at it for 2 hours and you’re gonna pass out if you cum one more time!

konig! who teases you when you get all wet for him.

“hübsches kleines ding.. i make you feel this, ja?” (pretty little thing..)

konig! who keeps you from going dumb on his cock by occasionally snapping in front of your face to bring you back to reality because the stretch is so unbelievable.

konig! who’s cum oozes out of your pussy and onto his balls because he always has so much to give you.

konig! who fucks you to sleep when you’re tossing and turning at night, and it works everytime.

“what’s wrong?”

you turn towards him, your eyes wide awake as you stare into his sleepy ones.

“i can’t sleep konig.”

your eyes flickered to the red alarm that was on the nightstand behind him, reading 1:26AM.

and he’s already shuffling out of his boxers and pulling his cock out, pushing the comforter off of his lower half and beginning to roll on top of you.

“i’ll put you to sleep.”

blondieeu xx

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diejager · 5 months

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Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention.

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes.

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument.

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body.

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail.

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him.

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight.

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours.

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures.

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you.

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home.

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him.

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him.

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much.

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty.

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind.

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition.

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to.

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition.

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you.

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live.

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much.

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures.

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room.

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making.

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal.

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue.

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave.

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him.

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying.

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh.

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back.

“You’re happy, ja?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan

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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months

Text

Zombie! König NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Mentions of Breeding, Implied Forced Pregnancy/Eggnancy, Stomach Bulging, Restraining, Unprotected Sex, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Yandere König, Possessive König, Jealous König, Zombie! König, Human! Reader, Zombie Anatomy, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Your current condition, that being thoroughly incapacitated, used and spent, had been the result of König’s jealousy, his possession of you.

All it took was for him to see you speaking with another survivor – one which had materialised out of nowhere – a little too enthusiastically.

Not that anyone could blame you; he was the first living person you’d seen in months, and you to him, too.

Until König showed up. Lumbering and mammoth and disease-ridden, he rocked up to you on creaking bones and stiffened joints, his deathly condition apparent in every facet of his being, from his gait to the stale blood staining his tactical gear.

The other survivor took one look at him and didn’t even hesitate before he all but took flight, bolting in the opposite direction.

You weren’t a fool. You knew König had done it on purpose.

He may be undead, but he was smart. Too smart.

Later that evening, you didn’t even look at König, instead bundling up in your room within the decrepit confines of your hideout while König ruminated.

If he could, he was sure his heart would squeeze, his throat would constrict at the prospect of upsetting you.

But, either because of his decaying state or something more carnal clouding his remorse.

The thought of that man, just some guy, touching you…

König’s eye twitched. His teeth gritted together, grinding.

The longer he stewed in the what-ifs – what if he hadn’t been there to frighten off his competition, what if that survivor had had his way with you – the less human he felt. The stronger the parasite’s instincts became, a chanting, goading, incipient voice that urged him to succumb to his feral ways.

Despite his stature, König was deceptively quiet. As much was apparent when you turned, your anger making it impossible to get comfortable, only to see König stood over you, watching you, your bedroom door swung open.

König gave you little time to process his arrival, to process that his appearance was not the extension of an olive branch – an apology – but a siege on your defences.

It wasn’t hard for König to pin you down, both with his weight and his strength as his hands kept your wrists welded to the mattress.

He snarled, his veil doing nothing to muffle the carnality in his tone, the voice of the parasite urging him to act. Now.

You tried to fight him off. Tried to call his name – the one you’d both settled on when you first met — tried to reason with the small part of him that was still human.

Little did you know that he, the last remaining thread which tethered König to the Living, was responsible for this.

You see, König is not the sharing type. A lesson you learned too late, it would seem.

The reason why König was bearing down on you now, trying not to rock his hips against yours as he collared your wrists together beneath his palm and fumbled with stiffened fingers for the zipper of his trousers was rooted solely in envy.

And now, freed of his pants, König’s cock stood stiff against his stomach. His hand, free now, gripped your jeans by the hem. Tore them off. A button pinged into a corner. You yelped.

Despite having dreamt of this moment for almost the entirety of your travels together, nothing in König’s dying mind could have prepared him for the rush he felt as you writhed, tried not to enable him with your whines when his drooling tip caught you.

König stuffed you full of him, and a sword of ice penetrated you, filled you.

You gasped, your back arching and your mouth dropping open as you struggled to take both his size and his piercing, freezing, bulbous cock.

You felt it twitch inside you. Pulse. And the only thought that crossed your mind was that something of a parasitic nature must be crawling through his veins, trying to get to you. Get into you.

Of course, that was not the case. König ever would have acted on his instincts if he’d known you were at risk of leading an almost-eternity of rot like him. He cared that much for you, at least.

Even if he had perceived your talking to that other lone survivor earlier as an act of disloyalty.

Deep down, he knows it wasn’t. You and König weren’t even dating, so how could it be?

Zombie instincts. And König’s naturally domineering, possessive nature. That’s how it could be.

König had to hold back the feeling, the need, to pump you full of his cum right then and there as he saw a long, thick bump form in your middle.

Him.

König growled. You whimpered. Something cold, viscous, tricked into you.

The avantmath of König’s excitement.

König’s eyes, though mulled over with a haze that suggested vacancy, were still an ice blue. Watching and heavy.

As was his cock halfway mounted inside you. It almost pinned you to the mattress itself with just how much of it there was, no doubt enlarged some by the parasite, the disease. Which, if the rest of König was to go by, wasn’t the only thing it engorged.

König’s frame possessed muscularity you didn’t even think possible on a man, his arms bulging, larger than your head, his thighs almost bursting from his pants as he bent over your figure, his trousers pulled taut over his muscles, just below his hips.

You stifled a sob, the air knocked out of you, as König began to move. Slowly, at first, the notion of intimacy having become a lost skill to him.

As he grew used to the motion of withdrawing and plunging back in, he grew faster. Harsher.

He could see from the furrow in your brow, the gritting of your teeth, the clenching of your jaw, that taking him was painful. Un-customary for your…relationship.

And though his chest would have panged with the knowledge that he, of everyone in the wasteland, was the one hurting you, his body was no longer privy to such reactions.

Instead, he pressed his hips to yours, tried manoeuvring you so that he could take you from a deeper angle, and slid further.

He bit back a grunt, his grip about your wrists tightening. You let out a yelp, these new inches of not only length but girth almost splitting you open. At least, that’s how it felt.

König built to and kept his feral pace, fucking you like an animal, giving you little time to breathe and him little time to think about what he was doing.

All he thought about was making you his. About making sure everything, living and otherwise, who came upon you in the wasteland would know you belonged to him.

Though, with what he was planning on doing to you, he knew you wouldn’t be going outside again.

Against your mind’s judgement, your body wanted König. That much was clear in the way you ceased fighting him off, instead trying to push into him, trying to take him deeper.

Your actions were not lost on König. But, given how his face was clouded not only with his veil, but with his lust, you wouldn’t have been surprised if they were.

Eventually, König’s weight and speed proved to be too much.

You cried out, as if for the only other survivor in the city to hear you, to save you.

König released a growl, a howl, as his cold, congealed, thickened cum pumped into you.

You could feel it, like water through a hose. Could feel König’s veins twitching, feel yourself getting full from his load.

Against your better judgement, you wrapped your legs about König’s torso, as if to stop even an ounce of his semen from escaping.

You didn’t have to look down to know that your stomach was filling up like a balloon – that König had completely and utterly made you his from the inside out.

You couldn’t see the way König’s jaw hung open, couldn’t feel the way his fantasy made his body lock up with electric anticipation.

Not that you knew this, but König knew the infection — the parasite — was evolving.

Once it fully matured, it would give König an opportunity he wouldn’t perceive as golden — gold dust — until he met you.

The ability to lay eggs in a host.

Granted, the idea was not to spread the infection in the living host but to enable the birth of more parasites. But for König, it worked all the same.

And, as he looked down at you, taking his load so easily now, he knew this was not just a possibility, but a reality.

You would start a new life. Together. Him as your protector, your sword and your shield, and you his perfect little incubator, swollen with your shared offspring.

It wouldn’t be long until you’d be begging to bear his offspring. And it wouldn’t be long until he could grant your wish.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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dolliestfairy · 9 months

Text

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑈𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐹𝑎𝑤𝑛 ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪ 🦌ೀ

𔓘 Tw: Kidnapping, Noncon, Forced breeding, Pregnancy, Bondage, and a little of housewife kink ig? This fics is kinda suffocating tho. read at your own risk. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.

𔓘 Authors note: this fanfic is kinda fcked up. this more like a Psychopath Hunter x Fawn fairy than a yandere. some may found this kind of disturbing so.. if this isnt your taste then please gtfo..

Minors do Not interact!

i'm thinking abt yandere hunter who is obsessed with chubby!fem!reader who is a fawn fairy.

yandere hunter who swears on his thumbs that he will kill anyone who tries to take away his wife from him who tries to hurt you.

yandere hunter who doesnt realize his obsessed nature over you. and called you "delusional" for calling him a crazy person.

yandere hunter who kidnapped you as soon as you placed one of your foot in his traps. shusing your cries while saying he would take care of you after.

yandere hunter who wants you to be his wife and bear his child. it doesnt matter if it was a mating season or not, he would try and no one could stop him.

yandere hunter who puts a rope above your chest and under your chubby belly just so you cant fly away.

yandere hunter who is almost dying from happiness because he just cant handle the cuteness of you with tears rolling down onto your tears.

yandere hunter who showed no mercy on you while his cock sliding into your pussy with an unexpected pace of speed. making you yelp.

yandere hunter whos one hand is on your mouth, covering you and muffling down your tears and cry, while his other hand plays with your nipple.

yandere hunter who suffocate you with affectionate after what all his done to you. shusing you and putting his plam hand on your cheeks and rubbing it while your body felt the cold air hitting every parts of your skin and wings, making you trembling.

yandere hunter who is 8 months later now is rubbing your swelled bellies, a bellies that now is filled with his unborn triplets. while he's thanking you for giving him this amount of happiness. which little did he know that he was far from a thing that was called "sane".

how can you even escape this madman when you're literally carrying his babies at the moment?

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ The MadMans are : DABI, MAHITO, Shigaraki, SUKUNA, GOJO, Itachi, OVERHAUL, DILUC, PANTALONE, Nanami, Geto, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima Kei, BACHIRA, OBITO, Sasuke, TOJI, Douma, Michael Kaiser, KAKUZU, KISAME, QIN SHI HUANG HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Alec, Hatake Kakashi, Horangi, Simon Ghost Riley, ALEJANDRO.

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yandere-sins · 5 months

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Just read your yandere!Ghost HCs and I am absolutely in love!! What are your thoughts on a shared darling between an all yandere!task force 141? Do you think it will make Ghost less possessive cause he doesn't have to worry about protecting their darling all the time or even more so cause he has to share? 🤔 Also curious about the other members interacting both with their darling and each other.

You're an amazing writer and I love all of your works so much!! Have a lovely day!! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for your request! ♥ I only did the core members I know of and about, hope that's alright!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Price

♡ John has undisputed dips on you in this dynamic. He doesn't take the active role of caretaker for you, but he gets to hold you first after a mission, be the first to kiss you, and ask if you've eaten and if you were good while he was gone. He's the one giving orders concerning you after consulting with the others, and he's the one to cozy up to if you really want to better your living situation, even though he doesn't easily fall for tricks. You'll have to behave in front of him because the punishments he orders are all the harsher. Putting you into your place never feels more bittersweet than when he gives you both carrot and stick to remind you of your position by his side. That you are nothing without him. That you need him. But as long as you indulge him a little whenever he asks for it, his presence in the group isn't much trouble to you.

♡ Price mostly hands over taking care of you to the boys, laughing when he jokes about "being too old" to clean up after you. But he has that authority no one can argue against. If he wants you in his bed for the night, the others won't complain as they send you to his room, and if he dislikes your attitude, he'll treat you like a rookie soldier in need of some discipline—just without professionalism holding him back. But it's so easy to get along with him if only you let down your pride a bit. When you catch him watching you across the table, get up from whoever's lap you are on and climb on Price's. Allow him to knead your thighs and ass while you cuddle against his chest, and you'll have this grown man melt with affection for you. And when he asks whose bed you want to share that night, never hesitate to ask for his. If he doesn't want to, he'll send you away anyway, but showing him how devoted you are will earn you lots of browny points that might help you out of more complicated situations with the others. Price never forgets what you do—neither good nor bad.

Soap

♡ Soap is, undoubtedly, the social butterfly of the group, and you are his unwilling victim. He so loves to hang out with you, every bit of attention going straight to his ego. Then again, he's also your best bet when it comes to food, bathing, and other basic needs that you want met from your captors. He's the easiest to ask for anything because he wants your attention desperately and will try to fulfill your wishes like a dog trying to impress his owner. He's also your main chaperon around base, gladly escorting you to the kitchen, the bathroom, or wherever the rest of the group is. If no one else claims you for the day or night, his room is basically yours, and you are often collected from it, as John will claim all your time and your sanity if left unchecked.

♡ Regardless, behind all the smiles and jokes, he's definitely the most obsessed. You'll find him wide awake, watching you sleep at night or licking your cutlery after you eat. There have been no fewer than three times that he didn't accompany you into the shower, taking advantage of you whenever he can. It's hard to look into his eyes sometimes, wide open and swirling with madness while he watches you, always right there to catch you when you fall. Soap will gladly lick the blood off your wounds if he's not pulled away by the collar of his shirt. King of not caring what the others think, he's not even realizing how weird he's being, but you know. You know what he does with your underwear at night. You know the crazed rambles he whispers into your ear when he thinks you're asleep. You wholeheartedly believe he's tempering with your food sometimes, and you know there's hell to pay if you make him snap. John will take a lot of screaming and fighting back. However, you still have bruises from the last time his composure cracked, and no amount of him kissing them better helps to forget the way he can and will crack your skull on a wall if you defy him one too many times.

Ghost

♡ The reality is that Simon profits greatly from the arrangement but isn't too keen on it. He'll tolerate it; watch quietly as everyone else salivates over you. But nothing can convince him that any of the guys are better for you than he is. Even if he gives in to Price's authority, Soap's efforts, and Roach's right to you, doesn't mean he thinks they should have you. He's known for stealing you out of beds and sometimes kidnapping you to someplace the others won't find right away to get some undisturbed alone time. However, being with him is terrifying. You won't be able to relax, your heart pounding against your ribcage when you're with him. After all, it's Ghost, and he's a big, unpredictable meanie, at least in your opinion.

♡ Doesn't help that he's usually the one to diffuse any problems the others have with you before taking you with him and giving you the punishment you'll feel for the next few days. The others trust him to do the right thing, to make you obedient and sweet again. And he does, most of the time. There's only so much pain and torture you can endure. But he's also the one to mend your wounds and patch you up, gently asserting authority over you when you get fussy while he helps you stay alive after one of the others caused havoc on your body. You told him so many times you wanted to die, and he was the one to soothe you, hold you until you fell asleep. Sometimes, you think about thanking him. But then you remember his other side, the one that enjoys your pain, enjoys your dependency on him. The Ghost that loves cornering you against walls and kissing you breathlessly while you struggle, the one that broke and put your ankles into casts after you tried to run away. The shadow that is always there to remind you to play nice but who never rewards you in return. He must love you, somewhere, deep inside his shrewd brain. But you hate him with every fiber of your being. He's your worst nightmare, enemy, the bastard of the group. And your savior, protector, and most devoted lover at the same time.

Roach

♡ Gary is the yandere that you want to get along with. Who you actively try to pull on your side against the others, thinking he'd give you some leniency and compassion. After all, he ensures you get what you need when everyone else is too busy fawning over you. He brings in the goods to play with you, and makes you little gifts that you know are from him but he never claims your thanks. Roach is the last escape when you're in for another punishment, and you gladly disregard the fact that he's turning a blind eye to what his mates are doing if it means escaping whatever Soap or Ghost are planning to do with you. He's the eery presence at your back, his eyes always drilling into you, but his hands never forcing you towards him. He feels safe. Safer than anyone else, at least. But still waters are deep, and you don't know how you and his delayed gratification affect him.

♡ You are in for a rude awakening when you run to him, beg him to help you, and plead with him to make the others stop. Suddenly, his hands are all over you, and you are pulled into his lap, tightly secured in his arms, face burying into the crook of your neck as he breathes you in. It feels like you're imprisoned in his grasp, your body crushed between his and his arms. He's patient, always laying in wait for you to come to him, so when you do, you are all his. No one dares to disturb him when he traps you against him. The others might sigh and groan but will retreat and give him the time he's owed, considering he never asks for it. And Roach plans to use his time with you wisely, give you all the attention and care he's been holding back or doing in the shadow. You'll belong to him all night long without a second to breathe while he devours you, devotes all his love to you. You'll only be given back once he's done smothering you in suffocating adoration, leaving his marks all over you, and making you thoroughly regret the trust you put into him to help you and protect you. He's just as bad, if not worse than the others, and he'll gladly lure you into the fake sense of safety again with his presence and subtle touches that will keep them away as no one knows when Roach is ready to claim you again. Now that he had a taste, it's hard not to want more...

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heartfullofleeches · 1 month

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Retailer: Now, I have to warn you - previous owners of this home have reporting seeing a ghost. A bride from what I've heard. I'm sure you don't believe in such things, but it would have been rude of me not to inform you.

Yan: Hm... I am not one for roommates, but it is such a lovely home I will find a way to send her to her final resting place.

Retailer: Actually, the bride has been described as an attractive young male.

Yan:

Yan: Will I be able to sign the paperwork today?

Ghost Bride Darling: Who....is here... Those lights...ahhh

[Yan sits at the dinner table in front of an spirit board - romantic candle lights strung all across the room]

Yan: Darling! You've finally come to join me for dinner. You look even more ravishing than your obituary showed you to be.

Ghost Bride Darling: I...am a man. Can I still be... your wife?

Yan: In that dress?? You could be my executioner and I'd view you all the same~

#ghost reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere text #male reader

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starryylies · 1 month

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Loser! König fucking your panties

Poor baby he’s so needy and desperate half the time

Hes so touch starved ong :((

Gets hard even if your hand brushes his

But he's so gentle with you

But sometimes he can't control himself

How could he with a pretty lil thing like you

Who would’ve thought though

That the big mean and brutish soldier is humping his dick into your dirty panties that he stole from the hamper to get himself off

Nasty, nasty pervert

so nasty that he doesn't stop fucking it even when you enter the room

Instead the shameless brute locks his eyes with yours as he fucks his angry red cock into your panties

But you're not any less are you?

Locking eyes while you’re rubbing your thighs

Looking up at him like a needy lil pup wanting a treat for being a good girl

His raspy voice groans lustfully

“C’mere Schatz, look at what you did”

“Be a good little girl and fix it f’me yea”

A smirk plasters his face as

You move closer towards him

Slowly,

Like a predator carefully approaching its prey

Your soft hands grip onto könig's cock, stroking it languidly

Stroking his cock into the soft material of your panty

How disgusting

But looking at him being such a mess

Was heaven

"Kö daddy you wanna cum?"

"Y-yes schatz, fuck please"

Dirty bastard fucking your panty like it's your cunt,

Dirty fucking bastard cumming into those panties

And you dirty little slut wearing those cum soaked panties for the remaining day

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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months

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puppy reader, who gets annoyed if 141 smell like someone reader doesn't know and sad if she smells them on each other, knowing that this little puppy was left out of fun

Cute puppy reader who will literally try to bite Ghost's dick off because a)it will regenerate anyway and it's fun and b) because she can smell Ghost on Soap and she is jealous because she wasn't invited( needy pups are getting punished, of course, by both her lieutenant and her sergeant, but it doesn't stop her from whining like a dumb puppy. She wasn't even invited to watch them, and this is makes her extremely anxious and sad( poor little baby, she really needs to get her pussy played with, or else she will whine the whole time she is left out of fun( It's not fair, honestly, when she can smell someone else on Gaz when they are cuddling...harpy is trying to understand why his usually chill and happy pup become so sad, but you just want your favorite people to stop treating you like a dumb pet who doesn't know anything( if they are playing with someone else, you can play with them too, you have energy! Turned out that Gaz was just in the training session with some other hybrid, and the scent lingered a bit too long - still, you will bite and scratch at him, and he accepts his punishment with grace. Out of everyone, even Soap, he is the softest - always allowing his pup to run around freely. It's hard to smell anything on Price besides cigarettes, but you are still able to pick up on bitter scents of other people - and even though he doesn't sleep with anyone else, he will still get angry at you for even suggesting that. Dumb pup is going to get her butt spanked and plugged with the biggest plug he could put in you without breaking your sorry hole - but this is the only mercy you will get. If you dare to bite him out of selfish desire to mark the bear hybrid, he will put a really uncomfortable muzzle on you, making you whine and scratch on it as he bounces you on his cock( dumb pup should have know better than to question him!

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cookiepie111 · 8 months

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Men who slip a wedding ring on your finger while they're fucking you dumb. You're as married in his mind now

Tag your favourite fictional man

#yandere könig x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #könig x reader #ghost x reader #i think this could work really well for older men #cod x reader #x black reader #anime x reader #yandere ghost x reader #yandere ghost #crocodile x reader

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unorthodoxfaithxx · 2 months

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Yandere Ghost Headcannons

Afab reader ; nsfw ; ghostly somnophilia

He was orphaned at a young age, but adopted by a widow who eventually passed away during his 20s. She left him with a hefty inheritance so he was well off for a while.

He eventually met the love of his life, your past reincarnation. Unfortunately for him, you were only using him for money and ended up burning him along with the house down in an attempt to take the life insurance money. You succeeded, leaving him nothing but a broken heart and a vengeful spirit.

The house the two of you lived in was eventually torn down and rebuilt. His ghost resided, watching apathetically as family after family moved in, only to run off when they realized the house was occupied with his spirit. He couldn’t move on because he had too many attachments to the world — namely, still being in love with you.

When you eventually move in with your cat, his heart stops. You’re back. You act a little different, but you’re still the woman he married. He falls in love all over again.

He watches you from both afar and up close. He loves to follow your every movements. When you sit in the reading room, he’s on the other chair eying you dreamily, enjoying the way you react to whatever is happening in your novels. He’s sometimes behind you, reading with you with every page you flip. He finds it cute the way your face scrunches up when you find a bug in the house. He can’t get rid of them, but he does his best to scare the bugs off so they scurries away. He thinks you’re very kind for taking in the stray cats in the neighborhood and feeding them in your backyard. He sits next to you on your back porch while you feed them.

He loves the way you laugh when you watch a funny video on your phone. He laughs with you. He eyes you pitifully, wanting to lick the tears off your face when you cry after watching a sad movie.

He thinks you’re fucking hot when you touch yourself in the shower. He’s there with you, too.

He wishes he could touch you, but he can’t. He’s just a ghost after all. At least, that’s what he thought until he finally made contact with your skin one night. He knelt over your sleeping form, wishing he could give you a kiss. Apparently wanting was all he needed, because when he bent over to kiss you, he was able to manifest a slight physical form and land a peck on your lips.

The revelation makes him ecstatic. Soon, he can’t get enough of your skin. Every night he wills himself to form a physical manifestation, one that gets stronger, lingers longer with every attempt. At night, he would hold you in your sleep, admiring the way your beautiful body was draped over the sheets.

But soon, just kisses aren’t enough. With physical form comes a carnal need for your body, your touch, your taste. He finds your used panties and masturbates to them, loving that he could feel pleasure for the first time in ages. He wants to share that feeling with you. So push comes to shove, and he develops a habit of groping you in your sleep, moving clothing aside to admire your naked body. He fingers you while you lay there, listening with joy as you moan and quiver in your sleep.

You’re so fucking adorable.

He wishes you knew he existed. But he knows you’d be terrified of him. Who knows, maybe one day, you’ll see him for who he really is - not some ghost haunting your house, but the man who has always and never stopped loving you.

When he hears you on the phone with your friend, talking about a man you might be interested in, all hell breaks loose in his mind.

No one can love you like he can. No one cares about you like he does. No one knows you like he does . Your smiles are reserved for him And him alone.

He begins touching you more, every night even. You start to complain to your friends about something being amiss, but he doesn’t care. He needs you to know he loves you. He needs you to need him.

Just when he thinks he will never get through to you, you wake up on a night he manifests.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere male #ghost #yandere ghost #yandere drabble #male yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you

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obsessivelullabies · 3 months

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— being mafia!tf141's assistant.

warnings : possessive, yandere behavior. fem reader.

a/n : i've never written mafia before? i hope this makes sense?? i plan to write four different parts for each of them individually!

— in all honesty, your relations with the mafia were completely accidental. you were a naive young woman in search of work. being some rich guy's assistant sounded easy enough. you did find it a little funny how there was no traditional interview process, just a bunch of slightly sketchy paperwork sent your way. luckily for you, you got the job!

— you were told an address, so you showed up. it turned out to be a massive house, which was even more shady. as you stood outside the door, a little too frightened to knock, you realized how sketchy it all was.

as you were lost in thought, the door swung open, revealing a muscular, shirtless man. he was only adorned in a pair of black boxers, he looked slightly peeved.

"who the fuck are you?" he acknowledged you after eyeing you up and down.

your eyes gazed on his firm chest due to how he nearly towered over you with his height. "i'm the new assistant.." you practically squeaked back at him.

the man grinned suddenly, his demeanor changing. "come in," he stepped aside, allowing you inside their home.

— the place was slightly cluttered as he showed you around, he introduced himself as soap. you assumed, or rather, hoped, it was a nickname. soap was immediately very touchy feely with you, slinging his arm around your waist or shoulder, running his large hand down the small of your back, stopping at your hips.

— soap showed you what your jobs were, things such as cleaning, cooking and basically whatever one of the men needed at the moment. he told you about the three other men, gaz, ghost and price. from what you gathered; they ran some kind of business. every mention of it was vague, yet you picked up that price was the 'boss' of sorts.

— after a lot of chatter, soap left your side and allowed you to work. the next man you met was just coming home, he was dressed fancily, seeming to be in a rush. he was quiet and polite, taking the time to introduce himself. gaz. soap hadn't said much about him.

— gaz was a sweetheart to you, asking you questions about yourself, apologizing for the slight mess in their home. you were excited to work for the two; both seemed pleasant to be around.

— the first two weeks of your job went by smoothly, soap and gaz would often lounge in whatever room you were in, chatting mindlessly to you. you would even say you bonded with the two.

— soap adored how good of an assistant you were. he loved eating your cooking, how you always made sure he liked your efforts. you were so obedient. so perfect for him.

— gaz had grown attached to your pretty little voice. you were so polite. he found it so cute how naive you were, how you never questioned what he did for work. he had a petname for you, ‘gorgeous’. with how much he called you it, you wondered if he even knew your real name.

— when price and ghost returned from their ‘business’, they were both relived to finally have some help. they showed it in different ways.

— at the start, ghost basically ignored you. his skull mask frightened you anyway. he only spoke to you to give you commands, yet over time, your charm grew on him. still, he wasn’t very talkative. he’d request your silent company. something to make him feel less alone.

— price, the boss, was very dominating. he appreciated your hard work, which soap and gaz had told him about. price thought you were adorable as a small animal. something to be protected and pet. every morning when you first got to work, you would make his tea for him. these slowly became his favorite moments.

— the longer you worked for them, the more mysterious they all became. they were vague whenever you hinted at your curiosity. you decided not to pry.

— you were unaware how possessive they’d all became. how they vied for you and yours affections. when price practically demanded you work longer hours, you just assumed you were a super good assistant.

— the four men became obsessive over you after only a few months. your life had gotten.. complicated ever since. especially when you learned what they really did.

masterlist.

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