#stalking (implied) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grxndprix · 7 months

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 & 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯 (𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩), 𝘴/𝘢, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘥𝘬, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭

A fresh new start always felt like bull.

It was like fate itself holding her life on puppet strings. Moving her like a numb pawn in a chess game. Everything felt calculated for everything except her. She just had to wait for things to go her way every once in a while, before it fell apart again.

Right now, it was going fairly mundanely. Nothing interesting or even mildly negative had happened in a while, though nothing had either. She had already been living alone for quite some time. Moved out of her parents’ house as soon as possible and invested in a house of her own for the sole reason of hating apartments. Too rickety, and she would feel safer in a smaller, single house than with broken windows or whatever else.

[name] ran a ringed hand through her hair, huffing out a breath as she hauled her cross-body bag over her shoulder. The job down at the local cafe awaited straight ahead, and despite her fears, she wasn’t a child anymore, she could do this.

Morning pink and white skies, highlighted with gold clouds had her taking in the fresh air. In fact, it wasn’t until she picked her walking pace up again, stepping toward the cafe doors, that the slightest bit of dread began to pool in her stomach.

A sigh, and [name] reached for the handle as she made her way inside. Her eyes wandered, trailing along the gold embellishments among the otherwise green, brown, and orange-ish tints around her. She lumbered on her way to the back of the building, swiftly tugging her uniform on and starting to take orders from her position as cashier.

Customers piling in couldn’t deny the coziness, some of them staying for quite some time. [name] herself enjoyed every second spent on the job and could never imagine quitting. Or— At least… Those were her premonitions for now. It was a steady source of income while living alone, the atmosphere was nice, the people were nice, it wasn’t—

The doors opened just as the clock chimed at 3 o’clock.

Not even a divine mercy could save such a tragedy. In waltzed two figures, tall in stature and a bit intimidating with their builds. [name] gulped for a second, feeling the cozy air around her start to dissipate. Despite recognizing them as regulars, the girl was unsettled. They always came in and just… observed her every move. She averted her gaze for the sake of her own well-being, lips pursing and unpursing. The feeling of her lip gloss brought back some sense, and she snapped out of her stupor.

In the short time she’d looked at them, she noticed they looked pretty identical to the last time. Cold white hair, blue eyes that held the world in their irises, black uniform — He was the one whose gaze raked along her entire figure, always whispering obscene things to his friend. Of course, said friend had raven hair, long locks that swayed with each step. They were tied up into a bun, and his matching eyes always remained locked on her face, barely wavering. His irises held nothing but sorrow, the weight of the universe—

‘Don’t judge people by their looks,’ She reminded herself. It’s rude to do so, even in this case… Her eyes flicked back to the pair, and she physically had to hold herself back from flinching. Both of their gazes were locked right onto her, one sporting a small smirk, and the other smiling softly.

The man smirking ran a hand through his snowy white hair, whistling lowly and leaning over to whisper something in his presumed friend’s ear. The smiling man whispered something as well, raven locks swaying in the small breeze. She wouldn’t have cared about any of this had their stares not been piercing into her. Something felt off, something really felt off— What was once just invasive had turned predatory. At least before, it didn’t feel like this.

The first time the pair had come into the cafe, they took a seat and seemed to talk casually for a bit. They weren’t ordering anything, but just to be sure, [name] had made her way over and asked them if they wanted to try anything off the menu. She tried and failed to conceal her wince when their eyes snapped up to meet hers.

That was the first time she’d experienced true intimidation. Satan regarded the two of them with a shiver, and she felt her hand tremble at her side. As if they had gotten what they wanted, the pair smiled, but the notion didn’t reach their eyes.

Neither one of them spoke a word for a moment, until—

“Just coffee, thanks.” The ravenette had a gentle voice, countering his intimidating stature. She nodded, a strained ‘Of course!’ falling from her lips before she walked back to her place at the counter. Still, she felt their burning stares pierce through her back.

Fate held a scissor to the string.

She tried to mind her own business. She really did. Returning to brewing some coffee for the person in line, sliding it across the table, and giving them a smile. Her lips could barely form the words, “Have a good day,” before she cut herself off, eyes widening. The coffee she had handed them knocked out of their grasp, laying spilled on the floor.

[name] gasped quietly, eyes darting back up to meet black and blue hues. She froze a second, suddenly realizing that while she’d been on autopilot, spacing out— The rest of the cafe had gone empty. Beginning to yell at the pair, the customer the coffee had been for looked beyond pissed. They opened their mouth to continue screaming at the white-haired man, but—

A swift flick of his fingers, and the customer went flying across the room, seemingly gaining momentum as they crashed against the wall and hit their head hard enough to knock out. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, allowing [name] to freeze completely. Her face paled in horror at the sight, a horrifying entity forming right behind the customer. They didn’t get the chance to fight, head effectively bitten clean off their body.

Blood poured forth from the stump like that of the Lord, body falling limp. The crimson color had splattered all over the walls and floor, a horrifying canvas of the spiral to hell, to purgatory—

Muted noiret hair cascaded over his shoulder as the man knelt on one knee in front of the body. He seemed to observe the way a few ants had already begun crawling out of the small hole in the wall, breaths quiet. Then, he cracked a smile. “‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’… May your god have mercy on your soul, low-life.”

With that, the entity swallowed the rest of the customer up whole.

It was quiet for a second. A clock ticked in the background, but she swore it almost felt like the seconds had slowed down. [name]’s mind was running wild with the visual and implied information dumped onto her. ‘What was that entity? Why did they kill the customer? What were they gonna do to her? Was this it? Were they going to kill her too?’

Despite the icy look he sent the corpse, the white-haired man huffed out a snicker. “C’mon, Suguru, don’t be like that.” He dragged the last word out, cracking his knuckles in front of him. His sapphire eyes took their time in studying every reaction [name] had to offer. From her shivers to her darting eyes — He consumed it all.

The ravenette chuckled too, lightheartedly smacking the other on the back. “How else should I be, Satoru?”

That seemed to snap her out of her state. The girl tried to scream, all blood leaving her face, but all she could form was a weak whimper. Her hands clutched at her uniform in an effort to ground herself, trying to sprint for the back. There were about 15 steps between herself and the door. She only made 3.

A hand clasped around her wrist, tugging her backward and into a chest. “Trying to leave so soon? Oh c’mon now, princess,” Satoru’s hand trailed down to her waist, lips brushing against her earlobe and greedily drinking up the shivers he got in return. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Suguru made his way to her front, one hand in his pocket while the other grabbed her cheeks to make sure she looked right into those pools of tar. He smiled softly, a stark contrast to Satoru’s smug grin as his lips nipped at her neck. Suguru took in every little detail of her face, including the blood from the customer’s splatter. The pores, the imperfections, the perfections— He couldn’t get enough.

“You’re a beautiful thing, y’know that?” He muttered, as if it was a secret only between the two of them. Something that no one else should ever know about. She tried to form a remark, anything to tell them off— But all it sounded like to them was a puppy’s whines.

His lips came crashing onto hers with a passion that rivaled Hades as he pursued Persephone. [name] tried desperately to push them off, using every bit of the strength she had— Yet as they backed her into the backroom, she knew it was all in vain. The realization didn’t stop her though, lips finally pushing past their rest and yelling for them to stop, almost sure it might draw the attention of someone outside. Before they closed the door, she saw that it had begun to pour rain, loud enough to completely mask any and all of her noises.

Satoru was the one that pushed her down onto the counter, Suguru immediately beginning to pull her oversized shirt off. The white haired man ran a hand through his strands at the sight, a hissed “Fuck,…” pulling through his throat. The ravenette saw how [name] tried to cover herself again, face pink, and immediately pinned her wrists above her head.

“Shh… It’s— It’s okay, we’ll take care of you, right, ‘Toru?” His voice was tight, like he was refraining from saying something, doing something— She tried to tug her wrists away from his hold, yelling for help, telling them to stop, just about anything that could just end the moment here and now.

A chuckle, and Satoru leaned over her body, face mere centimeters from hers. His lips practically brushed hers as those damned jewel-like orbs devoured her own.

“Yeah, we’ll treat ya real good, princess.”

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳-𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 ☆

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angelyuji · 11 months

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the fanged man

yandere miguel o'hara x reader :)

you bumped into the wrong guy on your way to work :(

warnings! kidnapping! stalking! kinda implied noncon? breeding kink if you look super duper closely! miguel is scary! and i'm in love with his fangs! (you will definitely be able to tell) fem pet names for reader!

i'm in love with him and i need him in a way that is too graphic to describe!

you slam your apartment door shut in a hurry, “fuck, shit, fuck.” you rush down the steps, already late. ‘god, he’s definitely going to fire me now.’ your fuckass boss had told you if you were late one more time, you’re done. you feel angry tears well up, but by god’s grace, your bus was still at your stop. however, as you sprint down the street, eyes only on the bus, you slam right into someone. you’re on the ground just as fast and you see your bus speed away. you groan and look up, getting ready to cuss the person out. a man towers over you and you inch away. he was dressed in a tight shirt and baggy sweatpants, and usually you’re drooling over a guy like him, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way. maybe it was the way his hands were clenched into fists. or maybe the way he looked at you like he was going to eat you. “sorry.” you remember the horror stories you’ve heard from your friends about guys like him, and you decide to just let it go. figuring your safety is better than giving the guy a piece of your mind. he doesn’t say anything to you, scanning your face. he smiles and your eyes go wide. “do you have fangs?” he holds out a hand for you and you gingerly grab it. he helps you up.

“yeah, i do.” you quickly let go of his hand, a twinge of fear running through you. “sorry about getting in your way, sweetheart.” a smirk rests on his face and you back away.

“ha, it’s-it’s my fault.” you muster up a smile and take off, sprinting down the street. you can still feel his eyes on you as you run. you weave between the crowds of people and, somehow, made it on time. you burst in right a minute before your shift starts. your manager looks at you with an eyebrow raised before sighing.

“you’re technically not late.” you smile, proud and incredibly sweaty. “just go wash your face and clock in.” they sigh once more, exasperated. as your shift goes on, you can still feel the lingering feeling of his eyes on you. you look out the window when your shift was at a lull and see the shadow of someone standing near the windows. you look closer and the shadow smiles, fangs appearing, shining bright and white. you feel your body go numb and you couldn’t breathe, your coworker calls your name and you tear your eyes away from the window. when you look back, the figure was gone. you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head. as the shift comes to a close, you and your coworker close up.

“you okay?” they lean on the counter as you wipe down with a rag. you shrug, scrubbing off a hard spot. “come onnn, (y/n). you’ve been off all night.” they look at you, concerned.

you stop wiping and turn to them, “well… i bumped into this tall, creepy-looking dude on my way here. he had like fangs and he was like… 7 feet tall? and… i don’t know…. it feels like he’s watching me. you know?”

“you feel like you’re being stalked?” their face twists in horror.

“exactly!” you widen your eyes, feeling validated.

“oh my gosh, you have to go to the cops or something. that’s fucking scary.” they grab the rag from your hand.

“it’s probably in my head, plus what are they gonna do? they’ll laugh at me.” you groan, throwing your head back.

“at least let me walk you home or something.” you look back at your coworker, seeing their worry. you purse your lips.

“that’d be nice, but you live in the opposite direction.” you laugh, resigned. they look down, clearly in distress about your situation. “hey, don’t worry. it’s probably fine. i get creeped out by every grown man i meet.” you smile. they laugh and relent, telling you to call them when you get home. you close up and go your separate ways. you walk back home on edge, careful to avoid creepy alleyways. you hear the quiet noises of the city: cars, dogs, people talking. you pray that if anything happens, spiderman will save you. you swallow as you speedwalk back to your house. you quickly get back to your apartment, breathing out a sigh in relief. you lock the door and lean back, feeling the tension seep out of you.

“god, i was acting so insane for no reason.” you laugh to yourself. you feel around the walls for a light, but just as you flip the switch, something slams against you. a body corners you against the wall. you couldn’t scream, their hand covering your mouth. one hand presses against the door. as your eyes adjust to the light, you realize who it is, his mouth widens in a twisted grin. you can see his fangs peeking through and you feel your stomach drop.

“the fact… that you are absolutely no one in this universe,” he chuckles, “is truly my luck.” he breathes heavy. he leans his head on to your shoulder and you feel his teeth graze your shoulder, and your breath hitches. your eyes drift down and you see a costume almost similar to spiderman’s. he takes his hand off your mouth and wraps it around your waist, pulling you close.

“please, please, i don’t know who you are. i’ve never hurt anyone, please leave me alone.” you plead, tears pouring down your face. he chuckles and you can feel the vibrations with his chest pressed against yours. his face pressed deeper into the crook of your neck and you can feel his teeth digging into you, almost breaking skin. he takes a deep breath and moves away, still keeping you pressed against the wall.

“oh, pretty girl, beg.” he licks his teeth, as if taunting you.

you can feel yourself panicking, you couldn’t breathe, “what?” you choke out. the hand on your waist, moves up to your throat. he tightens his hand around your throat and you widen your eyes, you can feel his claws dig into the back of your neck and black spots dance in your vision. you struggle to breathe, clawing at the hand tightening around your throat.

“beg for your life.” he growls. he releases a little bit of pressure for you to take a breath.

“please, please, let me go. i’m begging you. please,” you sob and he chuckles again.

“god, you’re even cuter than i thought.” he murmurs. he lets go of your throat and pulls you into a tight hug. you try to push him off, but his claws dig into your back and you sag into him.

“please,” you whisper, “i have a family. i don’t know what you want with me.” you lean on his wide chest.

he pulls away, holding you by the waist, he pouts at you mockingly. “sweetheart, they’re not your family anymore. we’ll be starting a family.” your heart starts racing as you understand what he’s trying to say.

“no no no, please i’m not- i don’t-” he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with a thumb.

“you’ll grow to love me, you’ll give me the family i want.” before you could blink, the man digs his fangs into your shoulder. you scream as the pain hits and you can feel something flowing into you. he holds you as your legs collapse from underneath you. he holds you as your vision swims. “i’ll make you a good mother, pretty girl. everything will be alright, (y/n).” his voice carries you into the dark.

part 2

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digenerate-trash · 6 months

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Shady underground crew!!!

Landry

He's a little worried about everything and he is desperate to keep you at arm's length so that you don't pick up on the fact that he's obsessed with you.

Really wants to just take you out on 1 (one) date so that he can figure out if his feelings are real or not but he never will He is worried about what he’ll find out about himself

Holds his breath around you. He doesn't understand why

He will often reach out to his contacts to check up on you and ensure you’re safe.

He loves that you’re so independent and reliable. Every job he’s given you you come back from. Maybe a little bruised or scuffed but you always come back.

You’re always bringing him the most valuable stuff. It’s really helped his reputation. He wants to thank you. He doesn’t know how.

He’s always making sure you know exactly the kind of danger you’re going into when he gives you a job. He wants you prepared. He loves you

He’s always gushing about his “new friend” to anyone he can. Never mentions your name. Keeps you a complete secret and obscures your details so no one can identify you fully

Lotta sex dreams about you. He’s not proud of it. But he can’t seem to stop them.

✦•····················································•✦•···················································•✦

Briar

Absolutely the worst person you want obsessed with you honestly.

Very pissed off with you for no reason. All the time. It doesn't matter how long you've been working for him or how reliable you are he's pissed.

He always thinks you are up to something with no proof. Accuses you of stealing tips, Meeting clients on the side, cutting him out of deals, and turning other employees against him. Even small things like being late or missing a show when you didn’t. Anything you could do wrong he thinks you've done wrong and he will absolutely choke you out till you admit it. Even if you didn't do anything wrong. he's not satisfied until you “confess” Afterwards he lets you go calls you a whore and continues to employ you.

And good luck trying to quit!! The second you tell him to get bent he's calling Bailey and paying double your fee so you get sent to the underground brothel.

he's always happy to “rescue” you after a week as long as you agree to come to work for him again. If you don’t agree he's happy to leave you there for another week.

he's all about the control of the situation. Sometimes he has you in his office just as a little decoration while he works.

he's not a big fan of actually fucking you. He hates how it would “give you power over him” but when he's wine drunk in his office late at night he does jerk his dick to the thought of you until it chafes.

If you do ever manage to have sex with him he threatens to “make you disappear” if you tell anyone. Of course, you assume that means hell kill you. It's Briar after all. But he's got a cage in his living room at home with your name on it. In pretty gold lettering.

Wren

Dude is itching for a partner in crime. He wants someone as wild as him. So he can live out a Bonnie and Clyde lifestyle.

Steals things for you constantly. Not shy at all about his feelings fucks you on the poker table with no mercy because you gave him a wink.

No shame a big fan of showing you off but not too big on sharing unless you're into it.

Will always kiss/lick/suck blood off of you. It doesn't matter what you've been doing either he's rabid for you covered in blood.

Wren is also a big fan of you when you are clever. He loves coming up with schemes and plans to fuck up the people around both of you. he's got no loyalty to his boss his work or anything else. It’s only you and he's obsessed with you.

Will bite the hand that feeds him.

Big fan of fire. So get ready for some burns on your hands back and thighs. he's gonna press his lighter to them and flick it until you admit that it hurts.

he's such a freak for you honestly. He’ll break into anywhere to fuck you there including Remeys place.

When you come back from a night with Wren you are a mess. Ash in your hair hickes burns bites and sometimes worse marks cover you. He keeps your underwear “until next time” (you never get them back). You always have a playing card hidden somewhere on your person and it sometimes takes a while to find it, he's getting really creative with the placements (usually it's from the winning hand of his poker games).

Wren is just such a mess for you and he doesn't care who knows it. As long as they understand that he's also not someone to fuck with on top of that. he's always got a gas can ready.

Mickey

he's been watching you since you both lived at the orphanage together. It's weird that you never noticed him. And you were the one he wanted to catch the attention of… just you

He's seen pictures of you. People talking about you on forms. It's easy to find stuff about you if you know where to look and Mickey always knows where to look.

he's so careful when he looks up images of you. He makes sure that he's never caught on those online forums. The forums where terrible creeps lurk. Where they post pictures of people they've raped and beaten and left at the side of the road. He finds those people terrible. Disgusting. Evil. but he's still there to watch. Waiting for another image of you to pop up. Just you.

He got lucky once. Someone posted an image of you passed out in an alley. He knew the location. It wasn't too far away. He covered his face and left the orphanage to go and collect you. He told himself he was just going to take you back home. But he couldn't help himself. And you'd never know it was him…

He still feels guilty about that but in a weird way, it keeps him going. He misses the feeling of your skin and how warm you are. The little noises you made you were barely awake…

And you still don’t notice him around the orphanage. he's been inside you. Just you. but you still ignore him.

Until you need something. He uses you to help himself escape. He considers taking you with him but that's a risky move. He knows how Bailey describes you to clients. He knows if you were to go missing it would put a target on his back.

So he settles for doing you a favor instead.

Every image of you online is wiped the next day. The forum is a little pissed off. Especially some idiot with an anime username. they're all wondering who hacked the place and got rid of the images of just you. It feels targeted. Some people even say that they guess they'll just have to track you down and get more. But others move on to different material.

Of course, Mickey's computer has a special folder on it. Filled with pictures of you. Just you.

#landry the criminal #briar the brothel owner #mickey the hacker #tw violence #tw burn #tw rape #tw implied rape #tw blood #tw stalking #yan dol #yandere #tw yandere #yandere tropes #x reader #gn reader

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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 7 months

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What's so special about you, huh? Why did you get to survive?

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absolute-flaming-trash · 1 year

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For my fellow readers with sleeping issues.

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2′557

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Sleep deprivation, Insomnia, Mindbreak if you squint, Noncon touching, Implied kidnapping.

“I swear to fucking god...”

You grabbed the bottle of melatonin off your nightstand and held it closer to your face, as if it would magically change the outcome of your current events.

You were tired. Painfully so. Insomnia was that bitch in your life that dangled the promise of sleep just out of reach, and would laugh at each and every failed attempt you’d make to get it.

The instructions on the off-white label were practically memorized by you at this point, but you still read them anyway on the off chance you had missed something.

‘Allow 1 tablet to dissolve under the tongue once per day or as directed by a physician. Recommended to reset circadian rhythm and for those with delayed sleep phase disorder’

You threw the bottle at the wall in frustration, ignoring the rain of pills that showered down after impact. You’d clean it up later.

It wasn’t enough. The “Extra Strength” claim on the label was nothing more than marketing bullshit since you had already taken three pills, and they had done fuck all. The tears of said frustration weren’t far behind, but you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. You were tired as hell, yeah, but nothing worth crying over just yet. It had only been about…

You counted the hours on your fingers.

...About a day and a half.

You frowned. That couldn’t be right.

You did it again, only to arrive at the same answer.

“God damnit!”

Your aggravation was emphasized with the slam of your bedroom door behind you. You were still in PJ’s, but fuck it. It was 3am and hardly anyone would be out anyways. You were going for a walk, since maybe that would actually do something for you.

You didn’t even bother to grab a jacket on your way out the front door.

The air was warm this time of year, despite it being so late… or early, depending on how you wanted to view it.

The city and all its concrete soaked up the heat from the sun during the daytime, and it would radiate it back out once the sun had set - allowing for a 24 hour rotation of heat that made you feel like a fucking rotisserie.

You smirked a little to yourself. Another thing to blame your sleep troubles on.

Like you suspected, there was hardly anyone out. The most activity you saw was at the back door at bars where the employees were locking up for the night, or at restaurants, where the work day had only just begun

You had no destination in mind as you walked. Thinking about one required too much effort, and you didn’t have the energy to contemplate such a thing. Besides, what good would it do to have one anyways if the point was simply to wander? Having one would make no sense.

After what felt like an hour, the ache in your feet had begun to override the blissful nothingness previously occupying your mind, and you leaned to rest against a stone wall that had been on your left side for the past little while.

Only then you noticed the significant drop of temperature in the air, and you looked around.

You weren’t in the city anymore.

At least not obviously. You were surrounded by vast amounts of green - illuminated only by the dull yellow lights that lined the paved walkway you stood on. It made the foliage that wasn’t touched by said light feel that much darker.

But it wasn’t just the lighting that made the atmosphere shift in the way it did.

No, something felt off. Similar to the sensation of being in a government building you had absolutely no business being in - but far more sinister. Goosebumps peppered your skin once you realized what it was.

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

Even the small ravine next to you seemed to make no noise.

You turned on your heel and headed back the way you came.

“Leaving so soon?”

A shriek accompanied the startled jolt of terror that shot up your spine. You whipped around expecting to find someone, only to be met with the darkness of the path.

“Hello?”

Nothing. Not even crickets answered you.

You chuckled nervously, not sure of what to make of your situation. You knew sleep deprivation, if pushed long enough, could result in hallucinations, but you didn’t think you were that far gone just yet. That was only supposed to happen after two days without sleep.

A fact, you realized with growing horror, that could already be a reality.

You resumed walking - a few steps backwards at first before you turned and faced the proper way to accommodate the hurry in your steps.

You weren’t sure of exactly where you were, but if you followed the walkway it would undoubtedly lead you to a better lit area where you could get your bearings and figure out a way back home.

Your hands made a motion to enter a pocket that didn’t exist, and you were reminded of the fact you had neither brought your jacket with you, nor your phone.

God, you were an idiot.

“You’re going the wrong way.~”

Okay, what the fuck.

You stopped again and listened as hard as you could despite the roar of blood in your ears. The temptation to call out again to the voice was there, but you immediately thought the better of it.

Not wanting to stick around longer than necessary, you began to speed-walk..

The path felt endless. The foliage you passed felt the same, and the bridge you were about to go under felt way too familiar. A part of you hoped the familiarity was due to having seen it on your way in, and not because you were actually lost.

Eerie laughter from somewhere in the darkness did absolutely nothing to ease the palpable fear crawling in your skin, and a whimper slipped past your lips.

That was definitely not a hallucination.

The bridge felt akin to a checkpoint once you were under it. It was by no means safe, rather safer. You felt a lot less exposed to the trees - the iron supports acting as a comforting barrier to the outside world; even if logic dictated you were no less exposed than before.

Your slowed steps echoed quietly off the metal as you weighed the pros and cons of venturing further down the path. The unknown danger was by no means gone, but the promise of the coming dawn along with the temporary, albeit probably false, sense of security tempted you to stay put.

You cautiously poked your head out from the safety of the bridge and listened again - waiting for more laughter - or anything else, really.

“Where the fuck are you…”

“Here.”

You froze. Deer in the headlights as you slowly turned to face the owner of the voice no more than three feet behind you.

There was something so incredibly unsettling about the way he looked at you. He was smiling, yes, but there was something so Uncanny Valley about it that it had all instincts screaming at you to do one thing, and one thing only.

Run.

“Hey.” He said, far too casually.

Your eyes flicked over his appearance - lingering much longer than intended on the numerous stitches that ran across his face.

When you accidentally locked eyes with him, you gulped.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” You began, “But I want you to leave me alone.”

The stranger raised his eyebrows, his three sections of pale blue hair falling to the side as he tilted his head curiously.

“What, no ‘hello’ back? That’s quite rude of you.”

You laughed, but there was no humour in the sound whatsoever. “My apologies. Please leave me alone.”

“I heard you the first time.” His expression fell into one of boredom while he flicked a piece of lint from his shirt. He clicked his tongue when his eyes came back to yours. “You’re out late, aren’t you?”

Your smile was all nerves. “I suppose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and continued to look at you. Eventually he bowed ever so slightly towards you, but you couldn’t help but feel it was completely ingenuine.

“My name is Mahito.”

You smiled thinly. “Pleasure.”

He grinned and resumed his full height with a hand on his hip. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it.”

The lull of silence that fell between you was nothing short of awful, and you flinched when he finally laughed. It was sharp as it echoed across the underbelly of the bridge.

“Well, aren't you cute?”

“Not really.”

Mahito ignored your answer and leaned in closer, if that were even possible. “I think you are.”

You felt like you were going to be sick on the spot. “Thanks…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “But if you’d pardon me, I’d like to go home now.”

You went to step around him, but his movements mirrored yours - keeping the path behind him blocked.

“Now? We only just started talking.”

His exaggerated pout made you feel a nauseating combination of pissed off and afraid. “Yes. Like you said, it’s very late.”

“So why are you out here?”

“That’s my business.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

Time stood still after he said that, and the anxiety must have shown clearly on your face because his smirk only widened. “I read humans have issues with that.”

Humans. Not ‘people’. Humans.

Your brow furrowed and you moistened your lips before you spoke.

“We do.” You said slowly, “But what makes you think I do?”

“You threw your sleeping pills against the wall, I’d say that’s a clear sign you’re still having issues.”

If the world didn’t stand still before, it certainly did now.

Unlike before, he wasn’t smirking. He said it as it was - a fact. Neutral expression and everything. It only served to make the drop of your heart into your stomach feel like freefall.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words came out as a stutter.

Mahito watched your face the entire time you struggled with yourself and used the moment to nonchalantly walk closer to you - debris crunching quietly under the soles of his bare feet as he did.

“...Still?”

He grinned and reached out to push a strand of your hair out of your face with a single finger. “Bottle says to see a doc after you use it for more than four weeks, I’d say you’re pushing it.”

You flinched back from him before he could touch you, repulsed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I told you, I’m Mahito.” He sighed and looked skyward for a moment, mumbling to himself. “Although I suppose sleep deprivation can result in problems with short-term memory…”

The tautness in your chest increased, and each breath became more difficult to suck in. It was all too much at once, and his complete dismissal of how goddamn creepy he was being only served to add to the fear.

He had been watching you, and clearly had been for a while. A fact only made worse by the knowledge that you hadn’t the faintest idea the entire time it had been happening - however long that had been.

“Did-” You cringed at the way your voice caught in your throat. The croak-like noise brought Mahito’s attention back to you immediately. “Did you follow me here?”

He cocked his head again to the side, “You shouldn’t ask questions you know the answer to, it’s not polite.”

You wanted to fucking cry.

You didn’t know what to do. Honest to god, you had absolutely no idea what to do or say anymore after a response like that because what was there to do?

You were alone. In the middle of a place you had never been with a person you had never met - one who was clearly out of their fucking mind.

Mahito giggled and he reached out to touch you again. “Your soul is trembling, am I making you nervous?”

Frankly you had never been more afraid in your life, and something in your brain snapped when his fingers made contact with your skin.

You ran.

Fight or flight was one hell of a bodily response. Gone was the tightness in your chest and back was the roar of blood in your ears as you sprinted down the path. The boost of adrenaline served its purpose - allowing your muscles to take on the inordinate amount of strain required to get you as far away from danger as possible.

A prospect that you didn’t expect to succeed as much as it did.

There was a large part of you that expected to get hit from behind - to go from hauling ass to eating shit in a matter of seconds, but it never happened.

No, what did occur was far, far worse.

There was an earth-shattering crash before the world disappeared. You had enough time to slap your palms over your ears before the scenery around you was literally pushed out by impossibly large, ink-like hands.

Whatever hands didn’t wall off your only chances of escape were used to pull you into a kingdom of darkness.

When you looked up, you didn’t see stars in this warped cosmos - only thousands of hands linked together in seemingly random patterns. There was no logic, only the horrific truth that solidified itself the more these hands clasped themselves together above your head.

You were trapped.

Even still, a part of you wondered if you were really here. If this was truly something happening to you of all people, and not some sick, horrendous nightmare conjured by several doses of melatonin at once.

That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it? That you were trapped in your mind rather than whatever horrors in front of your eyes - and it would only take a pinch of your skin along with the will to wake up to set yourself free.

But any hope of that was shattered by the call of your name and the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

He knew your name. Of course he did. It would be incredibly stupid to think he wouldn’t if he had really been following you for as long as he alluded to. He had only been playing dumb beforehand so you would offer up your name to him freely.

On top of everything else, he was a fucking hypocrite.

You let him turn you freely - offering little resistance as he had you face him once more, and he cupped your face in his hands. You closed your eyes, unable to deal with the intensity of the blue and gray staring into your soul.

“Normally I hate this, but I have to thank you.” He murmured, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “The pills were only meant to wear you down. Coming out here… you made this easy for me.”

The burn of hot tears behind your lids worked as an incentive to keep them shut, and you bit your cheek hard - hoping that the taste of your own blood would keep you grounded enough not to break in front of whatever creature that held you in its grasp.

But unlike Mahito, you were only human.

And you tasted salt when cold lips pressed to your own.

Taglist: @sai-my-beloved, @we-are-so-close, @biby-24k, @forcefulkitten, @siphite, @meefy, @liquorishred, @kateaesthetic

#riri writes #Mahito #Mahito x Reader #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #Yandere!Mahito #tw yandere #tw stalking #tw sleep deprivation #tw mindbreak #tw noncon touching #tw implied kidnapping #tw insomnia #I'm tired as hell but I hope I didn't make him too soft here #that sort of thing is for my other house

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rowiewritesstuff · 1 year

Text

TFP Yandere Bumblebee- The Devoted Yandere

Really hard bot to write for- he's too dang wholesome

Bumblebee had first noticed you when you were walking around town. You always had a skip in your step as you hummed to whatever music that was playing through your headphones.

You were the music teacher at Raf’s school, one that he spoke very highly of. You were one of the kinder teachers. You often let Raf hide away in your classroom from bullies, or even stopped them yourself.

You began to get worried when you noticed Raf get into a sports car everyday after school. Sometimes he would come to school with bags under his eyes. He said it was just some nightmares- but what child has this many nightmares?

You began investigating his home life to make sure he was safe. Every time he would come into your room, you would question him about his daily life. How was his relationship with his parents? Was he happy at home? He would often be short with his answers. He always spoke kindly of his parents though.

Then you asked about his friends. He went on about his friend Bee (which you assumed was a nickname). Bee was his new friend, who was in the same robotics club Jack and Miko were in. Bee owned the sports car.

You were instantly suspicious of how anyone could afford a sports car in Jasper, Nevada. So, one day, you were determined to make sure all of the kids were safe.

You followed the sports car into the desert from a distance. They caught on pretty quickly and circled back into town.

The next day after that happened, you got there before that car did and parked behind a huge rock formation. You saw the yellow sports car begin to drive towards the mesa wall in fear when it opened up.

You sat in your car for a moment before you feared the worst and drove immediately to where the car had disappeared from. All you could hope was that Raf wasn’t in something horrible.

You looked around the rock wall, and felt around until you felt an oddly metal-feeling part of the rock. You pulled it open only to find that it was a door.

As quickly and quietly as you could you snuck into the long hallway, pulling out your pepper spray.

Soon you entered a large hangar, only to find giant robots.

Your feet froze in place. Before you could stop yourself, a small whimper of fear left your throat.

That made everyone in the room turn to look at you with their piercing blue optics. One of them cursed under their breath, which snapped you out of your stupor. You quickly pulled out the pepper spray and aimed it at them with shaking hands.

“There was a boy that came in here. Where is he?!” You yelled at them.

“Teacher (L/N)?” a small voice came from above. There stood Raf, looking over the railing down at you.

Soon enough, everything was explained to you. You were hesitant to leave Raf there, but he seemed happy. You had scolded him for not being honest up front- though you understood why.

You officially met “Bee”, learning that his name was actually Bumblebee. He seemed kind enough, and you could understand what he was saying. Bumblebee was super excited that another human could understand him!

Bee became a guardian to you, since you hung around Raf a lot. Bee’s infatuation with you was pretty quick. He would often follow you around like a puppy would its owner.

Whenever Bumblebee would drive you home, he would wait outside of your house for as long as he could. He believed that cons were surely after you! After all, who wouldn't want someone as cute and wonderful as you? Whenever he wasn't on a mission, he would trail behind you- never enough so that you'd notice, though. He's a scout and he knows how to track people. If you ever did catch him, he'd say that he was wondering if you needed a ride anywhere, or as if you were going to base that day.

Sometimes, you’d leave small items in his alt-mode. A pencil here and there, a paper with your writing on it. A scrunchie that you either kept for yourself or your students. A shirt with your scent on it. Maybe you left you phone in the car while you ran into the store that he so graciously offered to take you to. Maybe he downloaded pictures that you'd taken of yourself and your friends and sent it to himself.

All of it he would stash away in a secret drawer in his habsuite. He didn’t mean to start his collection at first- he was just keeping it there to return it to you later. He just forgot at first but surely you wouldn’t miss a few things? And Bee would always return it if you asked. Maybe.

You’d never notice any change in his behavior. He is much too shy to let you know his feelings. As long as he’s friends with you, he won’t have to do anything rash- so he hopes you’ll never try to leave him. He’d hate to have to lock you away until you learned to love him too.

If a con ever dared to touch you, they'd learn just how far he'd go to protect you. They might even confuse him for a con' with how brutal he'd be.

#bumblebee #yandere bumblebee #yandere Bumblebee x reader #yandere bee #yandere tfp #yandere transformers #yandere #transformers #tfp #tw implied stalking #tw yandere #yandere transformers prime #yandere transformers prime bumblebee #maccaddam

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mara-xx217 · 2 months

Text

A Match Made in Hell- (A DBD Commission) Jed Olsen (Ghostface)/Reader

This was a paid commission! I hope you enjoy~

How could he think that you wouldn't learn this fact? How could you not think that he would learn the same about you? Really, you are a match made in hell...

Warnings: Serial Killings, Murder, Stalking, Arson, Murder, Super Toxic Relationship, Choking, Implied NSFW

You came across the find of the century. There was another on the turf of your home city serial killer. No matter what the police say and your newspaper prints, you know that it was someone else. A new face but someone that wasn’t new to the game. You had gotten a peek of a crime scene that the police had only just arrived at. Blood was everywhere but it wasn’t haphazard or sloppy, almost as if the killer had tried to make art out of their kill. You managed to snag a handful of photos before the police shoved you out of the way, calling you a ‘vulture’ as they threatened to arrest you should you obstruct them further. As much as you wished that you had gotten some better pictures, this was more than enough to prove without a shadow of a doubt that there was another murderer in Roseville.

“You… do realize that we can’t publish any of this, right?” The chief editor of the Roseville Gazette had a sickly pale green hue to his face as stared at the photographs you presented to him. Several of the other editors had to turn away, some shaking their heads and others leaving the room entirely as they claimed they had ‘other things’ to do. The giddy rush of your find was quickly soured as the chief editor flipped the photographs around, so that they faced the desk underneath them.

“W-Wha-? Are you being serious?! Do you have any idea of what this means? Doesn’t the public deserve to know just how dangerous the streets are-?!” The sudden wave of a hand has you silenced. Of everyone in the room nearly everyone seemed almost scared that you had brought such information inside of their building. What are they? Cowards or something?! There was only one person that didn’t seem perturbed by what you had shown them. Only one, and unsurprising to you, they were the one person that has irked you from the moment they set foot into your place of work.

“Just-! Get this shit off my desk and burn them for God’s sake! Jesus Christ-!” The chief editor sat back in his chair, looking exhausted.

“And get out of my office while you’re at it!”

You snorted as you picked up the photographs. You didn’t spare a moment before you stomped out, yanking the door open with enough force that it bounced off the wall behind it. As you took a step out of the chief editor’s office, your eyes locked onto the new guy’s, the one that you didn’t like for… whatever reason. For a fraction of a second, you saw… something. Whatever it was, it was over before you even had the chance to internalize it but in your core, you knew exactly what you saw.

A challenge…

What kind of challenge was it…? One between reporters? Or was it-?

It kept you up all night. There was a gnawing in the back of your head like a nagging question. It made the hairs on your body stand on end but it also made excitement pool in your gut. Could it be…? What would be the odds of such a thing? Low, almost improbable… But likely not impossible, right? You remember the interviews that the new guy had with two people that were killed by the new serial murderer- what was his name? Jed?- and remembered that they both were stalked and received phone calls and photographs of themselves from within their homes days before they were found killed in their homes. One was stabbed to death in the shower, ‘Psycho’ style and the other looked like they were surprised as they were cooking breakfast, their house nearly catching on fire from the unmonitored stovetop that was still on.

You got up after the clock struck two a.m. and glossed back over all the articles that the Roseville Gazette had published over the past few months. Indeed, all of them were written as though the same killer had perpetuated all the recent hot topic murders in the city. You frowned at the fact that all the articles that you had written were nowhere to be found. Actually… the more that you read, the more that you realized that all the articles on the new murders were written by the same reporter. You quirked a brow. Oh?

Now this is interesting…

As you looked over more and more articles, the hairs on the back of your neck began to rise. A thrill ran down your spine and pooled in your gut. You just knew that something was going to happen. What, you didn’t know, but whatever it would be, it would be exciting. You sat back in your chair and waited, exhaling sharply through your nose as you stared at your cell phone that was resting on the table in front of you. You knew this guy’s type very well.

He’ll call you, without a doubt.

Unsurprisingly, your phone began to ring. This asshole is probably watching you as you sit at your kitchen table… If he wasn’t watching you through a crack in your blinds, then he was likely inside of your house. As excited as you were, you couldn’t help but to feel a wave of apprehension washing over you at the thought of this creep being in your house. What was he? A dirty pervert? You scoffed to yourself and picked up your phone, answering it with your name.

“....” There was soft breathing on the other end of the phone. You felt your eyes nearly roll out of your skull as you listened, leaning back further and propping your feet up on your table.

“Sweetie, if this call isn’t going to contain some ‘Black Christmas’ level of obscene caller shenanigans then I’m not interested.” You quirked a brow as you heard a snort then a short bark of laughter.

“Well, well! I’ve never had that kind of reaction before!” The man on the other side sounded totally unfamiliar to you. His voice was deep and smooth, almost a purr as he was no doubt staring at you lounging in your dining room.

“Hmph, perhpas… I think that you’re just the rest.” You could hear the squeak of leather on the other side of the line.

“Oh? Like what?” You sighed heavily as you inspected your fingernails.

“Disappointing.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, as though the new Ripper of Roseville was genuinely surprised. Everything about you screamed that you were bored: your posture, your voice, your sheer nonchalance in the face of someone that you knew was stalking you and who was incredibly dangerous and no doubt homicidal. It was…

“Hmm…~ I want to play a game.” The man’s voice was as smooth as it was at the beginning of the call. He was judging your reaction, wondering if what he was seeing was real or if you were going to be another disappointment for him.

“A game? No, I don’t think so-”

“C’mon… What’s the harm in a little game?”

“If it’s not ‘what are you wearing’ then I’m not interested.” Again, the squeak of leather hit your ears. To say that your own pulse wasn’t quickening and that heat wasn’t pooling in between your thighs would be an outright lie. Many men have tried to play a dangerous game but they always pussied out just as it was getting good.

You just knew that this one would be different.

“I like how you think.” The man’s breathing was slightly laboured, as though he was out of breath.

“Are you already jerking off, you little pervert?” You let one of your legs slip off your dining room table, revealing the nice lace panties that you had worn to bed. It wasn’t like you were expecting such a thing to happen. No! Not at all… Not at all…

“Aw, you aren’t wearing the red ones? What a shame…” Your heart skipped a beat. An electric pulse shoots through your body as you hold your breath.

So he can see you…

“Those are my favourites… Red really suits you-” From your cracked bedroom door, something was thrown out of the darkness. You yelped and jumped, nearly falling backwards in your chair from surprise. A pile of what sounded like paper was thrown, whipping all over the floor of your living room. No, wait- Not paper.

Photographs.

“-just like blood.” His laughter made your heart pound in your ears. You shot up from your chair and snatched a kitchen knife from the knife block in your kitchen. As you stormed towards your bedroom, the photographs caught your eye. T-That’s-!!!

Unsurprisingly, there was no one in your bedroom when you kicked your door open. No one was in the bathroom, in your closet or underneath your bed… Son of a bitch-! Your breaths come out in short bursts as you throw your bedroom door back open, it bouncing off the wall behind it and likely creating a dent. Your eyes were trained on the pictures strewn across the floor. You already knew what was on them but you were still hoping that you weren’t that sloppy-

“GODDAMN IT-!!!”

The knife flew out of your hand and clattered to the floor across your home. How could you be so fucking careless?! That- That fucking asshole-! He-! H-He had fucking-! Your fingers trembled in rage as you quickly collected all the photographs. None of the photos had your face in them but they were damning. If this asshole is using them as blackmail, then he knows- One of the pictures especially caught your eye, one that did show your face. Your breathing hitched and caught in the back of your throat as you looked at yourself, masturbating beside- b-beside- a-and covered in- i-in-

These weren’t the only photos of you, you were certain of that. You were about to burn them but… Shit, you’ve got a serious problem. As damning of evidence this was, you just… couldn’t destroy them. You felt a sick, twisted sense of pride as you looked over them more and more. Wow, he had actually captured you wonderfully… You aren’t sure what you were feeling at the moment. Anger? Definitely. Rage? Absolutely. Flattered? Y-Yeah… Turned on? W-Well…

You dragged your feet on deciding whether or not you wanted to go back to work or if you were going straight over to that asshole’s house and killing him for getting involved in your business. Actually, there are many different reasons why you wanted to kill Jed Olsen: for stealing your promotion at the Roseville Gazette, for being a creep, for being an all around piece of shit, for trespassing on your turf-

“Hey-” You didn’t immediately look up from your work to answer him. You continued typing for some time, slowly tearing your eyes away from your work as you looked up at him with a scowl.

“What?” God, you hated how much more attractive you’ve found Jed after learning the truth about him. His face was smug and confident, punchable and kissable-

“Now, is that any way to talk to a partner?” You felt your ears heat up as he leaned against your desk. He licked his lips as he looked you over.

“You’re going to get some coffee with me.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“What’s the magic word, jerkwa-” The words were choked in your throat as Jed grabbed you by the throat. Your eyes went wide, not wide like his other victims, but still showing your surprise plainly. He felt your pulse throb beneath his fingers and he pressed into it with enough force to make your face turn red.

“Coffee. You. Me. Got it?” Jed’s thumb pressed against your lower lip, calloused from working with his hands for the majority of his life. Your tongue reflexively flicked out, gently trailing against his thumb. You don’t think he was expecting this, as his grip relaxed for a fraction of a second before it became so tight that you felt something pop in your throat.

“You fucking slut-” The look on his face was dark and there was no warmth in his smile. He forced you to lean up as he leaned down, meeting you halfway.

“What do you say we burn this shithole to the ground and get the fuck out of this town, hmm?” There was a dark violence in his eyes that you were intimately familiar with. You had often seen them staring back at you in the mirror whenever you were washing the blood off your body after a successful hunt-

“G-Go w-where?~ H-Huuuh-?~” You were getting light headed from lack of oxygen but you were still acutely aware of what was happening around you. Your coworkers were going about their daily routines, totally unaware that you were talking to another coworker that was actively strangling you as the two of you talked about killing them all. They were so stupid it pissed you off.

It’s just natural selection at this point if they are killed-

“Anywhere… Just me and you…” A soft wheeze escaped from between your lips as your airway was crushed in Jed’s palm. There was a crossroads that was forming before you: say ‘yes’ and your life is over as you know it or say ‘no’ and your life is over as you know it.

Fuck, how can you pass up the opportunity to go out with a ‘bang’?

Your body was still sore from when Jed had dragged you to the supply closet at work. Fuck, how did no one hear the two of you?! He was not gentle with you and even though you were able to hold your screams of pain and pleasure at bay, the sound of your body being repeatedly banged against the closet wall as Jed fucked your brains out. Ah- You keep calling him ‘Jed’, even though you’ve known for a while that it was merely an alias for him. Danny… It’s something that you could get used to saying. Or maybe you should say screaming his name…

It was so spur of the moment for you… for you both. Spontaneity was something you and Danny both were known for but pure impulsiveness? Well, maybe you both had been lying to yourselves. It’s much easier to do stupid, dangerous things when you have an equally dangerous and stupid person encouraging you to go further and further, until you both had two canisters filled with gasoline each and you both had broken into the Roseville Gazette and doused the whole place. One small spark would be enough to engulf the entire building…

What a shame your ex-chief editor was locked in the supply closet…

The Roseville Gazette went up in flames within seconds. The heat of the flames exploded outwards, engulfing both you and Danny within its harsh light. The two of you were dressed in your murderous best: black and masked as you both heard your ex-chief editor screaming from within the hot inferno. Your entire body was trembling with excitement as the fire continued to rage hotter and hotter. It could spread to other buildings if things keep up… God, you fucking hoped that it did. You fucking hate this place and you guess that Danny did too, because he was just as turned on as you were as the screams of agony died down from within the destroyed Roseville Gazette.

“Ha… Ha… F-Fuck-” You pulled off your mask and your face was flushed. You’ve never committed arson before… It felt pretty damn good, even if the smell of gasoline stuck to your clothing and skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Danny pull his own mask off, your eyes going wide as you felt him grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head backwards. As he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

It was all tongue and teeth… You moaned as you felt your teeth bounce off of his, nipping at his lower lip and at the tongue that forced its way into your open mouth. Danny’s kiss was wet and overpowering but you wouldn’t let him win easily. You bit him hard enough to draw blood but instead of instantly pulling away, he moaned and kissed you even deeper.

It left you breathless, even after he began to pull away. Even though you knew that the two of you shouldn’t be sticking around for much longer, you wanted to watch the Gazette continue to burn. This had to be the stupidest thing that you have ever done in your entire life, and you are including going to work for a newspaper that was in your active killing grounds. You always got hot and bothered when you reported on your own murders and you guessed that Danny was the same way with his own. He had grabbed you by the neck and was dragging you back towards the car that he had used to drive you both around for the night. You knew exactly what he had in mind, which was the only reason why you weren’t fighting him every step of the way. He’s the only man that’s ever made you sore after doing the deed…

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather, @horny-3

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd ghostface #dbd danny johnson #jed olsen #dbd ghostface x reader #paid commission #stalking #implied murder #arson #toxic relationship #choking

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whumpers-inc · 2 years

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"When I first saw you, I thought it was impossible to fall in love more than I did at that moment." Whumper paused to cup their former lover's chin in their hand, forcing eye contact.

"Now I realise that was only a crush. Having you here, covered in blood and bruises, completely under my control? This is true love."

#creepy whumper #intimate whump #intimate whumper #abuse #control #possessive whumper #whumper x lover #stalking implied #blood #bruises

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

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Otome au-Character introduction: Rollo Flamm

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR GLORIOUS MASQUERADE EVENT, Yandere themes, death, murder, implied stalking, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, violence, family problems

Position:

Judge of the city of flowers

Backstory:

It was no secret that judge Rollo had a rather… radical streak when it came to magic users. Whenever he could hear someone utter a spell, or simply someone voicing that they liked magic did not matter. Although, you did earn a pityfull look from him before being questioned if you knew someone with the ability to wield magic if you were a normal person. No magic. Simply normal.

Judge Rollo despised magic. It took and burned everything away like the destructive force it was. And as such, the young judge saw himself in a position in which he needed to be equally as destructive when it came to cleansing the world of that power. Even if it meant lying to himself. Although less lying, more like burying a part of him deep below where even the ghosts of the dead could not reach. Rollo was aware that he was also someone “impure”, someone tainted by magic.

Although sometimes he remembered a small boy, equally as stained and yet also so full of light.

If only the light hadn’t gotten burned to ashes.

How did he become Self-aware?

The process of noticing that this world was controlled by a higher power on a whim was something he did not start on his own. Quite the contrary. One day when Rollo was once more looking over papers, trying to get some sort of order into the sea of pure chaos on his desk, a place always seemingly to be full with these, he did notice something odd though.

Hadn’t he seen this case before? But it wasn’t noted down in the records. Then why was he so certain the lead investigator had been given a large sum of money to hide details, leading to an innocent person being locked away?

And like this it began. At first Rollo thought that it was his “impurity” which told him these things. Much later though he did notice that this was not the case. A strange individual set foot into his beautifull city, bringing with them the wind of foregin lands. Rollo heard a voice saying something along the lines of finally getting the DLC, whatever that was, even though the stranger did not talk.

As such his descend into the depths of the truth of this world started but if he was honest, he didn’t mind. He did not mind as he flung a spell at someone, making them breathe their last breath all so they wouldn’t get between him figuring out who, no what kind of enigma, you were. He did not mind to do all of that as long as he could follow that light at the end of the tunnel, you.

To not even meant to be part of your path throuh this world and yet to foster such feelings, wouldn’t it be only fair for him to act upon them?

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holyhounddog · 5 months

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Mutsuki birthday drawing I completely forgot to post.

The background is unfinished but I ran out of steam and continuing this felt like pulling teeth, so I apologize

#procreate #tokyo ghoul re #tg:re #tokyo ghoul #tooru mutsuki #cw knife #cw blood #implied stalking #allanart

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foxgloveprincess · 1 year

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Summary: What do the boys talk about when their wifeys are all locked up safe at home?

Word Count: 1,216

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Lots of Implied References to Dark Themes/Actions, Kidnapping, Death/Murder, Stalking/Surveillance, Possessiveness, Banter, Cursing, Callous Regard for Life. Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: This stemmed from an old idea that bloomed into this about a week ago. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue it!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

“So, tell me. How’s your little chickadee doing?” The man crosses his arms and slouches in his chair. His legs spread wide and bump into the ones beside him.

Ari sighs with a scratch of his fingers through his greying beard and cuts a glare in his direction. “She’s doing fine, Hansen.”

“Her old man still looking for her?” Lloyd pops a sucker in his mouth—though no one knows from where he got it. Only that they’re abundant in his presence, making him smell just a little sickly sweet.

“You want me to take care of him?” Robert asks, a gristle in his voice as he shuffles around to find his pack of smokes in his pocket. “I got a job up that way.”

“I have it handled,” Ari answers. His jaw ticks. His hands clench into fists on his thighs. “That asshole won’t be a problem for much longer.”

No one has the chance to comment more as a chair scrapes loudly across the floor to join their circle. A familiar, beleaguered man slumps into it. Lloyd crows a laugh and uses his lollipop to point.

“Someone’s being a pain in your ass, aren’t they?”

The man grumbles under his breath, incomprehensible to the members of the group around him.

“Come on, Barber, tell us about it,” Lloyd goads with a shit-eating grin, “your housewife not everything she’s cracked up to be?”

“Shut your mouth,” Andy replies with a fierce glower and a sharp point of his finger. “She’s adjusting.”

“Give him a break,” another man says, clapping Andy on the back and sitting in the seat beside him. “It’s his first time taking a little honeypot for himself.”

“I don’t need your help, Drysdale,” Andy grumbles. He brushes the man’s hand from his shoulder. His head rests back on his shoulders as he sighs. “She’s still trying to break out of the basement.” His hand reaches up to massage his forehead, working out the strain around his eyes.

“Your neighbors starting to get suspicious yet?” Robert asks with a quirk of his brow. His glasses glint in the overhead fluorescent lights.

“Not yet,” Andy replies, shifting in his seat and crossing his arm. His face pinches in discomfort. “Jensen set me up with good soundproofing.”

The man’s head perks up at the mention of his name, previously content to filter out the conversation in favor of watching his phone. “What?”

Ransom sighs and reaches out to knock Jake’s shoulder in admonition. “Why did you even come if you’re just going to stare at your screen the whole time?”

Jake pouts and adjusts his glasses. “I can’t help it,” he protests, turning the device around to show the group a glimpse before tucking it close to his chest. “She’s just so precious. Can’t get enough of her.”

“You move her yet?” Robert asks, resting his forearms on his knees. His wide shoulders rolling into the position like he’s getting ready to pounce. “Cause it looks to me like she’s still at home.”

The youngest man of the group grimaces and hems. “I’m still working on relocation.”

“The contractor still giving you guff?” Ari asks, leaning forward in interest. His brow smooths at the subject being far away from his girl, tucked away safe at his cabin. His lips twist toward a smile just thinking of her.

Jake’s shoulders lift in a shrug. He won’t meet their eye. “I think he’s pissed cause I have tech add-ons that I need to keep classified. Messes up his flow.”

The snick of Robert’s lighter interrupts Jake’s thought. “But you’re good for what you owe him?”

“Of course,” Jake scoffs, a stormy look of affront clouding his normally cheery features. “Why the fuck would I think of taking my girl if I couldn’t provide for her adequately in all the way she needs?”

“Calm down, Jake,” Andy counsels with hand lifting in placation, “You know we only have the group’s best interest at heart.” His cool eyes scan across the circle. All five of the other men stare back. “We look out for each other.”

“It’s the basement,” Lloyd pipes up with a nod toward the D.A. Curious eyes turn toward the man and his non sequitur. “Too fucking cold down there, I bet. Give your housewife some nice lovin’ somewhere warm and she’ll be putty in your hands.”

“There is a reason we all favor attics,” Ransom adds with a contemplative nod.

“Aside from the fact that jumping out a window on the upper floor stings like a bitch,” Lloyd adds with a cheeky smile.

“Still remember cleaning up the splat at Pronge’s first place,” Ransom adds with an exaggerated wince.

“Shut the fuck up,” the hit man barks, crushing his cigarette between his fingers like a threat.

The tension smothers the group for an elongated moment. No one breaks it. They shift in their seats, and wait for someone else to crack. The clock on the wall ticks. The air conditioner rumbles on.

“At least,” Ari broaches, tone cautious, “we learned a valuable lesson.”

Robert puffs a cloud of smoke from a new cigarette with a click of his teeth. “And my princess would never,” he adds in a growl.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Ransom intones with a smirk. Only to be met with sharp daggers in the gaze of the hit man.

“Well, you’ve had plenty of that,” Jake snorts, distracted again by his surveillance.

Ransom cuts a harsh glare at the young man. His lips purse on an excuse and colorful curse when Andy interrupts his thought.

“Have you settled on anyone yet?”

“I weeded out a few more,” Ransom replies, wiping his mouth with his hand. “The contractor did a great job with my attic, I just gotta find the girl who fits up there.” His hand gestures around in a play of defeat—as if he weren’t the sole reason behind all the delays.

“How many are still on your radar?” Ari asks, curiosity underlined by ire.

“Just a baker’s dozen.”

Quiet outrage follows his statement. Each of the five faces surrounding him screw up with disbelief or vexation. Ransom drinks it in like a fine wine.

“Indecisive piece of shit,” Robert mutters under his breath.

Even Lloyd, a kindred spirit to Ransom among the group, stares in incredulity. None of them understand his ability to resist the siren call of the one. None of them had been able to.

“You obviously haven’t met the right girl yet,” Andy sneers before glancing toward the oldest member of the group.

“You wouldn’t be spouting this bullshit if you had,” Ari agrees with a tilt of his head, not moving his scrutinizing gaze from the trust fund baby.

Robert starts putting away his chair, stacking it with a clang on the pile by the back door—adjourning their meeting without a word. Jake’s head pops up from his screen before he does the same with a smile on his face. Andy and Ari both leave with one final glance at Ransom who sits with his brow furrowed.

Lloyd chuckles as he stands, the sound dark yet giddy. He slaps a hand down on the other man’s shoulder. Ransom flashes his gaze to the mercenary.

“Oh, playboy, it’s gonna bite you in the ass.”

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envy-of-the-apple · 1 year

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Yandere!Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

I haven’t written my man in soo longg. i claim to be an illumi stan but i only have like two fics for the guy. im so sorry illumi your dead fish eyes are the only eyes for me i swear. Highly inspired by this drabble made by flamingtrash. The way bestie writes illumi just lamenting just sends chills down my spine.

Target

(Warnings: Yandere, stalking, murder, more stalking, planning to murder, mentions of suicide)

Kill the husband, do whatever you want to the wife.

His mission is one of the simpler ones. He considers this busy work. His target is a regular civilian, a break from the numerous other assassins, hit-men, nen-users he typically was hired to do.

Still, Illumi takes his time, because every target deserves his vigilance, his dedication. It wouldn’t be right to just finish and go. He offers each life respect.

He remembers the reason why your husband has to die. Bribery, company theft, among many other things. The men who wanted him gone needed for him to disappear completely, not a trace of him left behind.

He has a feeling you wouldn’t go away just as easily.

It was a love marriage. You two met right after you graduated college, and it bloomed from there. Coffee dates, light night strolls, candlelight dinners. Domestic activities.

You loved your husband. Though Illumi isn’t intimate with the feeling, it’s clear to anyone who’s willing to watch. You’d been married for years, yet you still get so flustered at the mention of him. Twiddling thumbs, nervous laughter.

Your husband loves you too. Maybe just as much. He’s not as quick to show it. He’s close to inheriting the company from his father. He has a lot of work to do. It’s probably why he’s doing so many gray things. Your husband is stressed. He knows one day this will all catch up to him.

That day came when Illumi was handed 20 million jennies and a picture.

He watches because making it look like an accident is much harder to accomplish than it sounds. He considers pinning the blame on you, before he discards the thought. Insufficient.

But you really did love your husband. He isn’t usually so interested in his target’s marital affairs but he thinks he admires your loyalty. You’re so loving to him. Despite the busy lives you two lead, you manage to still think about him.

Like today, when you’re setting up the breakfast table. You place two bowls, despite the fact your husband’s still asleep in the bed you two share.

He’s been busy lately, constantly running from meeting to meeting. After a bit of scouting Illumi realizes that he’s only ever in two places: at the office, or in bed with you. Sometimes, just twice since Illumi has been observing, your husband crawls into a dark alley, filled with underdwellers, whispering about their latest schemes. He barely has time for breakfast.

A routine is being set in place. You make two plates, continuing to bustle away in the kitchen as you wait for him. He’ll leave in a hurry, as he always does, yelling out a ‘bye darling’ before slamming the door shut. You’ll come out of the kitchen a few minutes later to see the bowls untouched, and then you’ll frown. Like you always do.

And that worries Illumi because when your husband is gone and if you start putting together the pieces: always rushing everywhere, constantly being stressed, not eating breakfast anymore. He’d rather you be in the dark. He’d rather not waste his time killing you too. He wants you to play the part he set out to you; the heartbroken wife wondering how her husband could do this to himself when he was always so happy.

Today, Illumi decides to intervene when your husband leaves like that for the fifth day in a row. You hadn’t even realized the intruder when he casually steps into the dining room, too busy in the kitchen. He decides to dispose of your husband’s bowl in the bushes, where the stray cats can have their fill. It’s clean when Illumi drops the dish back to its place on the table.

You come out a few minutes later when Illumi safely retracts to his usual hiding spot. He watches you keenly, noting the perceived disappointment you have on your face like you’re already preparing yourself.

And then you stop, staring at the empty bowl.

A soft smile adorns your face. Your eyes crinkle.

You look so happy, as you sit down, eating your own breakfast. It confuses him, just how happy a small action made you.

It didn’t matter. This was good. If he kept this up, your husband’s demise would be a heartbroken tragedy, rather than suspected foul play. He shouldn’t be bothered by the details.

Days later, he still thinks about your smile.

He watches you more than he does his target.

Illumi can’t help himself. You’re so distracting. He doesn’t understand why. He should have been done with this mission weeks ago but he’s still here because he can’t understand you.

You’re normal by any standard. Completely average. You work a desk job, and come back home when you get off the clock. You have normal friends. You have a normal family. Nothing you do should surprise him.

But you do, nearly every day. He realizes you have these faces you show to others. Towards your co-workers, you’re polite and resigned. People who you’re closer to, family, close friends, your husband, you’re more sincere. You smile more. It’s fascinating to watch you switch depending on who you interact with.

It shouldn’t matter because everyone has different faces. Everyone does this, this is basic socialization in regard to his targets. You aren’t special.

Sometimes, Illumi catches himself wondering what face you would show him if you two ever met.

You’re so disgustingly normal as you sit in the living room of your house, watching a TV show he hardly cares about. You don’t seem to care either, more interested in babbling on the phone to your friend about some nonsense at work.

He should just kill you off too. It would be easier, less work on his part. It’s not like his clients care about what he does with you. You are an anomaly, but in the grand scheme of things, you are dispensable, irrelevant to his job. You won’t matter.

You shouldn’t matter.

You’re clumsy, it’s a common trait Illumi has noticed. You show your skill off almost every day. Take this moment, for instance, as you get up, you nearly drop your phone, catching it in the knick of time. You laugh to your friend about it in relief and Illumi thinks you wouldn’t be a good fit within his family. He strangely doesn’t mind your helplessness, however.

He catches himself again. He curses. He really should just kill you.

It’d be so easy to, it’s not like you made it hard. You don’t have any combat experience, you don’t even realize he’s there, right behind you, watching you work away in the kitchen as you continue to talk to your friend in utter obliviousness.

He’s close enough to smell your perfume.

When you turn, he’s back in his perch, onlooking the window. As usual, you don’t spot any evidence of the stranger being in your home, close enough to touch you. You continue stirring away a dish, still on the phone.

He really should just kill you.

Illumi thinks your friends serve their purpose.

Since he is unable to interrogate you, your friends do it for him. They get you drunk in the restaurant you three had booked weeks ago, tipsy on a strain of alcohol he’d barely consider strong. It’s enough to spill your deepest secrets he could never uncover himself. A childhood past files could never tell him.

Your friend makes a comment about how the kid version of you would probably be scandalized at how you turned out. A slurred laugh bubbles out of your lips. Illumi thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“You sound just like my husband,” You say with mirth. Your friend frowns.

“Speaking of him…are the two of you okay? He didn’t show up to the dinner party last week.” Your husband hadn’t. Instead, he’d left you alone while he went to go and make more blood money. You frown, like you’re remembering it too.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s been busy lately. It’s something at work.”

“Has he been specific?” Another friend presses. You look pensive.

“Not really,” You respond. They frown at eachother, casting a knowing look.

“Stop,” You say, your voice losing all humor, “It’s not like that. You two think so lowly of him. He’s not that kind of man.” And it’s true. Your husband doesn’t cheat. He bribes and launders instead.

“He’s been…really tired lately. He sleeps like a rock all night, but in the morning it looks like he hadn’t even gotten a wink. His eye bags have eye bags.” You frown, taking another sip of your drink. “I always feel so guilty, like I should be doing something.”

“Have you tried speaking to him about it?” One asks.

You smile without mirth.

“He doesn’t talk to me. Sometimes-sometimes I feel like he really wants to, but is afraid to, which is so stupid. It’s like he doesn’t know that I’ll love him no matter what he does.”

Illumi believes you. He really does. He suddenly realizes that if your husband admitted everything he’s been doing right now; you’d forgive him, you’d accept him, you’d still love him.

You’re so loyal to him. Only him. Even when your husband doesn’t really deserve it, it was love. True love.

That’s why he was so drawn to you. He wanted a wife just like you. Hell, if he had a perfect wife, he’d launder, and bribe, and steal to keep you too.

He leaves after that. The mystery was solved. He could finally complete his mission.

He wastes no time getting to your home, getting to his target.

Killing the man was easy. Illumi barely breaks a sweat. Your husband is dead, and at his feet, within seconds.

Then he waits.

He waits for you to come home, he waits for you to see the scene. He decides that he’ll let you grieve for thirty seconds. Half a minute, before he breaks your neck, and then you’ll join your beloved.

He isn’t usually so gracious, but he feels indebted to you. He’s grateful that you showed him that something like this exists. Utter devotion. He wants someone like you in his life. Someone who will smile and laugh and be intertwined with him, forever.

He’ll pay it back by giving you time with your husband. It’s the least he can do.

The door clicks an hour later. He patiently waits. Waits for you to see your lover, waits for you to scream, waits for you to see him. He’ll give you thirty seconds. Just thirty seconds.

Forty-five seconds pass.

Your eyes meet his first.

You smile.

“Hey.”

You’re intoxicated. He can smell the wine from your lips as you stumble forward, lightly tripping on your heels. He’s close enough that you fall into him. He could have moved away, avoiding your clumsy body, letting you fall on a heap to the floor.

He’s never minded your clumsiness.

Illumi stays, gently pressing his fingertips into your shoulders, stabilizing you. You’re so soft under his touch. Delicate. He’s suddenly afraid a single move might snap you in half.

You laugh, and although your voice is heavy with alcohol, it’s so light and free. You look at him, really really look at him. Your eyes are glimmering and he’s wondering if the night sky itself was etched into your eyes.

“My hero,” You say so so lovingly and it clicks.

You think he’s your husband.

Why else would you be so happy? You can’t see him that well, not with your poor eyesight, an average human’s ability. Not when you’re so drunk off of the sweet wine he can practically taste from your lips.

You don’t see the dead body right at your feet. You just see Illumi.

Still, he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either, choosing to wrap your arms around his waist, drawing him closer. You’re so warm. You fit perfectly against his body.

If he presses himself any closer, if he brings his hand up, right by your neck, and squeezes just so slightly, he’d be able to feel all of you. The blood pumping in your veins, sending oxygen, nutrients, everything that keeps you here. You’re alive. You aren’t dead, not yet. That’s why you’re so warm, not a cold corpse.

He thinks he prefers you this way.

“Sorry I was so late,” You’re slurring your words, but he understands them anyway, “I hadn’t seen the girls in a while. Hope you’re not too mad.”

He doesn’t reply. You don’t seem to care, pressing up against him again. It feels so intimate, he’s not used to this. For once, in the many years he’s lived without doubt, he’s stuck.

You managed to do that to him. Disarm him. You are surely the most dangerous opponent he’s had to face.

You’re pulling away, a pout on your lips.

“I knew it, you are mad,” You sigh, “Is there any way you can forgive me? Maybe…”

You don’t finish your sentence, pressing up, messily pressing your warm lips to his. He’s kissed before, he’s not unnerved to the notion of touch, contact.

But he can taste the ambrosia on your tongue. It’s addictive.

“Sorry,” You whisper when you pull away. He doesn’t want you to. “I’m sorry.”

You’re looking at him again, and your eyes are simmering, smoldering with a feeling that looks so dirty. You’re looking at him with absolute adoration and he strangely feels like he’s about to break.

“You forgive me, right?”

He makes his decision when you intertwine your hand in his, leading him to your bedroom. He makes sure you avoid stepping over your husband, guiding you away from the body. You’re giggling in his arms, caressing his hands. His face.

Why would he give a fuck about having someone like you when he could just have you?

When you reach to turn on the bedroom light he’s quick to intervene, pinning you against the bed. Your intoxicated mind is eager to forget, clumsily reciprocating.

He reaffirms his decision when he bites your neck, hearing you moan and writhe beneath him.

He’ll keep you. After all, he’s worked so hard over these years. He deserves an award.

You’ll love him, the same way you loved your husband, the rotting corpse he hopes will burn somewhere far far away from you two.

And if you don’t. That’s okay too. Illumi has more than enough love to go around.

#dark content #yandere illumi zoldyck x reader #Dark Illumi Zoldyck #yandere #x reader #stalking #murder #Illumi laments about killing you a lot #he's just shy i swear #hired gun #suicide mention #implied dubcon #delusion #yandere hxh

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kit-williams · 4 months

Note

If you want prompts to work on you got any ideas for being stalked by an astartes? I got into the rogue trader game andy god the astartes companion is doing something to me.

Idk I just enjoy the idea that on planet or in a ship you can only hide from something stronger and smarter then you for so long.

So you and @bispecsual both were inspired by the Rogue Trader game so I will be tying together both of the asks. Though theirs was more about "holding a lot more power than the usual darling but still having this man be rabidly devoted to her." and "oh he’s a freak… jokes on you I’m into that 😏"

However neither of you gave me a chapter so I asked my husband what chapter to write it for his pick: Drumroll

ALPHA LEGION

Also Serax's voice is based kinda off of the way Warrior Tier does in his alpha legion video

As for Rowena Beaumont... her appearance is whatever the reader wants to be however given a rogue trader prompt I could not resist giving them an over the top name!

tw: SEX THERES SEX also yandere behavior... implied stalking and manipulation... obsessive

Serax had quite a good deal going on. He enjoyed the Rogue Trader he was attached too Lord Captain Rowena Beaumont... Lady Rowena in proper company... Beau to those whom she lures to her bed... and his teasing calling her -ena. Ah yes wouldn't it be nice to have his 'ena call him Serax at night instead of Sven. He was playing the roll of a Vlka Fenryka and perhaps he was playing it too well... for the Mistress of the ship had gotten under Serax's skin.

She was horribly over the top. She was loud. She was a brat... such a brat and he could tell she loved it when he, as Sven, scolded her. Of course, he couldn't do much to her and much less given his cover... but why would he want to drive her away? But it was so easy to play the roll of the brutish Vlka Fenryka as she had told him when he had tried to 'scare' her away from getting too close... she was a gremlin and had announced "Jokes on you I like that!"

Everything was perfect... The blare of the horn as he could tell the gelar field flickered and one of his hearts sank. But that was probably from being thrown by the sudden demonette, that he quickly crushed, before he rushed down the halls to find Rowena. He felt a second hand embarrassment as he howled like the wolf that he was pretending to be.

"SVEN GET YOUR HAIRY ASS OVER HERE!" He hears her shriek before firing her weapon a few more times as she has to make her way to the bridge to get her ship under control. "IF I GET ONE MORE CALL FROM YOU LOT I WILL MURDER SOMEONE!" Again she screams, he sees her only half dressed but no armor on at all as she swings her saber.

"What are you daft puppy?" He snarls out like the protective wolf he was being as he picks her up before backhanding a warped individual. "Is my pup alright?"

"No! Someone tried to kill me in my sleep! I did not get my full rest! And now my ship is falling apart!" She lets out a scream as she grabs a gun and just shoots into one corrupted individual a few too many times. "Puppy lets get you to the bridge."

Rowena clings to her smelly Sven... it wasn't bath day yet. But she watched him be the killing machine that he was always so skilled in what he does... though she found he, like a lost dog, followed the hand that fed him. Which in that case was hers and Rowena did not mind one bit of having a space marine to her beck and call. Besides it was also a bit of a flaunt to also get her world rocked by Sven nearly every night.

"Look out!" Sven shouted as he turned his back to the corrupted crew shooting at them. Rowena watched Sven's pauldron turn teal for a moment... seeing a green hydra in the place of a wolf before it returned to normal before he fired back.

"Oh Sven." Rowena cooed, "You keep me so safe what would I do without you?"

"Hmm probably be dead. Full of a lot more holes... maybe," He lowers his voice an octave, "be less stretched out... less ruined for mortal men perhaps." He laughed as he looked down at the Rogue Trader biting her bottom lip and looking at him with bedroom eyes. Serax grunted looking away, "Not now puppy." He growls softly.

"Later?" She coos rubbing his chestplate.

"If you're a good girl." He feels her lean back, giggle, and kick her feet in joy. She was such a funny little creature.

------

Rowena drums her fingers as she finally got her ship back in order but something was bothering her. The sigil that was on his pauldron... it itched a memory in the back of her mind. Grandpapa told her to fear the hydra though... there was a hydra in their heraldry... a bloodline that could be traced back to when the Emperor was walking around. She always figured it was to mean fear of betrayals but what did the hydra mean.

She hummed as she dismissed herself from the bridge and returned to her room and went into the forbidden library. Oh yes she was suppose to hand these books over to the Inquisition for being heretical and some in xenos origin. Some were heirlooms and she grabs the ones she remembers that had a hydra in them.

Hermetic Tablets of Black Conspiracies, Yesteryear of yearning, Demented Book of Lost Poems, Restoration Of The Frontline, Avoiding The Fires, Dog Of The Forsaken, Omnibus of Enigma, Mistress Alayne's Text of Runes, Invader Of The Void, Neighbors Of The Forest, Armies Of The Curse, Thieves Of Time, Understanding New Technology, Scrolls of Whitchcraft. She frowned not understanding what all of these have in common but Rowena hardly has the time. Besides she is the Rogue Trader and he is on her ship!

She hums as she heads to his room.

----

Serax looks to Rowena feeling his stomach drop as she says just looking at one of his trinkets. "Hiding anything?" He forces out a laugh, "Lady Rowena I'm but a simple wolf. I hardly need to hide anything from you."

"So why did your pauldron turn teal? And don't you fuckin gaslight me! I am the fuckin' queen of Gaslighting, Gatekeeping, and Girlbossing!"

He sighed and watched Rowena jump as the door locked behind her and her microbead and other tech cutting her off from the rest of the ship. She turned around and was grabbed and pressed to the door as red lenses glowed in the dark of the room as he tilted his head his voice sounding different. "Lady Rowena." He purrs and he watches her eyes widen... not expecting that reaction?

"Wha-wha-wha-" Is all she can manage. Before he puts his thumb on her tongue.

"Hush puppy," He rumbles in that deep and to Rowena very seductive timber, "you're not suppose to know about this. Normally... puppies who find out get put down. But... you are my puppy. And normally I would want an adversary to figure out what I am verses your accidental discovery." He watches her tongue move against his thumb tasting the bitter tang of sweat and some iron from what he was tinkering on, his chest rumbles. "Always a naughty puppy. Aren't you? Yes you're Serax's naughty girl." He knew where that rumble went... watching her latch onto his thumb and suck as her thighs closed tightly. Yes Mistress Rowena was always in control... prim... proper... always playing chess with foes around her... political machinations and she was very much like a puppy playing with rabid wolves.

Emperor bless her that Serax found himself in her service to help keep this little puppy alive and in charge. "You know puppy... how much I've been helping you? I deserve to be rewarded... " He groans just looking at his Rowena. He had stalked her before as he originally just needed to be ferried from one place to another and her family was deeply tied to the legion. But she was hardly what he expected from a rogue trader... young and eyes full of stars.

"What do you want..." She moans softly just whimpering as Serax moved his fingers against her groin fingering her through her clothes.

"I want you to scream my name. My name is Serax by the way... get on the bed. And yes 'ena... I'm going to continue to ruin you for mortals." He lets her go and watches her scramble to get onto his bed just looking at him with an eager vibration as she starts to strip and he walks to the machine that will remove his armor. He looks to his puppy and see how eager she is given how her legs are spread wide and two fingers are deep in her sex. "Yes play with yourself." He hums just lazily stroking his cock as he looks at her with the same devotion he would look at her as Sven. "Such a silly puppy... you practically walked right to me. Face down ass up puppy. Good girl. You just needed a firm hand to help guide you. And my legion is all about being the faceless guiding hand working in the shadows... oh yes puppy you're going to keep rejecting those marriage agreements because you have me." He says as he crawls up behind Rowena.

She whimpers into the pillow, dripping wet, as Sven no Serax's voice is pure seduction. She yelps as he slaps, gently for him, her ass causing her to moan into the pillow. He pushes into her inviting cunt as he starts a slow pace. Oh yes he's wanted and imagined fucking the Rogue Trader here in his simple quarters verses her pompous room. His hand grips her hair pulling back as he notices her burying her face into his pillow, "Bad puppy I said I wanted you to scream my name."

"SERAX!" Rowena yelps out as he thrusts into her hard. His girthy cock tickling her clit as his balls clap against her flesh. "Oh God oh Throne oh God!" She pants out in prayer.

"No Emperor here only me. Oh yes tell the Sister of Battle what I said... we both know whom you're going to pick, puppy. Tell me who is puppy going to pick?"

"You... " She moans as he lightly spanks her, "You Serax!" She can feel sweat start to form as fucking a space marine is a full contact sport almost. While Serax was just casually fucking she felt like her whole body was being thrown through the paces.

"Good girl." He groaned as he picked up his pace as he holds her hips tighter being as gentle as he can but really... she can afford to get her hips fixed from an Astartes fucking her. He grunt louder as she screams his name again feeling her walls form a vice grip around his cock. He lets out a low strained groan as he tries not to cum bucking his hips and fucking her through her orgasm. He pants out 'puppy' over and over. Yes he really does just sees her as a cute little dog for him to dote upon and train.

He flips her over grabbing her under her knees and spreading her legs watching her as she gets glassy eyed watching the way his cock vanishes into her sex and causes her to bulge slightly. Its the way she looks at him so helplessly and just putting so much trust into his hands that's what gets Serax off groaning and cumming deep in her. Bottoming out and rocking his hips as his toes curl and he groans softly.

He pulls out and leans in kissing her hard as she whimpers so helplessly... oh yes he made sure that she was the perfect little puppy... making sure she got her write of passage... making sure she would be open to him... he moans into the kiss pulling her to his lap. But of course he won't tell his little puppy just how perfectly he made her for him... she might try to get rid of him. Of course, she was going to get Sven outside of this room but whenever she wanted to experience a far more honest version of himself... all she had to do was come to the Hydra lair.

#This is not the Yandere Alpha Legion don't worry he is coming #tw: sex #tw: yandere #tw: implied stalking #tw: stalking #tw: manipulation #tw: obsession #Yandere #Yandere Space Marine #Space Marine #Yandere Alpha Legion #Alpha Legion #Rogue Trader #OC: Rowena Beaumont #Space marine x oc #warhammer 40k

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