#yandere candy store

[ayten-is-living]

Hoshiko: Honey, whatchu waiting fo-

Musume: *pushes Hoshiko* SHUT UP, HEATHER! Step into my candy store!~

#yandere simulator #yansim #yandere sim #musume ronshaku #mutsumi rokuda #hoshiko mizudori #heathers #heathers x yansim #candy store

[amaya-writes]

i love writing yandere death note

#like the possibilities with these characters! #i feel like a kid in a candy store #so many options so many ideas so many potential situations #and every single character would be such a good yandere #your honour i'm obsessed #amaya: talks

[m4nj1r0s]

Slightly!Yandere Shinichiro general headcannons

Note: I went off-track a little with cute moments 😭

- SIMP. You’ve probably heard it 100 times, so let me be the 101st, he is a SIMP.

- Has your picture as his lock screen and Home Screen, has a polaroid of you two in the back of his CLEAR phone case, another polaroid in his wallet and a framed picture of the two of you in his shop.

- Looks at you with love-hearts in his eyes whenever you’re talking. It could be about the economical state of the world and he’d still listen intently just because you’re the one saying it.

- Everyone says he doesn’t have any skills with girls, which is true, but he is genuine and that’s already better than the majority of men.

- Will hug and kiss you in front of his friends because he literally does not care what they think. They’ll all probably groan and tell him it’s gross.

- Has accidentally blown a puff of smoke in your face from a cigarette and when you started to cough he panicked. Got you a cute teddy bear to say sorry though.

- Has your skincare and makeup routine memorized, and products. This man knows your shade and the brand you use for foundation and concealer. Always stocks it up for you when he sees you’re running low. Loves to watch you apply skincare and makeup and will get flustered if you ask him to put it on for you.

- Is always so gentle with you. He hasn’t hurt you, and won’t ever. Not even accidentally. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him!

- Benkei and Takeomi give him bad girl advice. Wakasa knows better but he’s never around when the other two give Shinichiro advice… When he tries it with you, he gets genuinely shocked when you tell him you don’t like whatever he tried.

- One time, he asked you if you were on your period because you were mad at him, and when you asked him why the hell he would ask that, he replied “Takeomi told me that you’d think I was attentive and knowledgeable about women’s hormones if I asked you!!”

- They’re probably the reason he doesn’t get girls tbh

- But he has you, he doesn’t need anyone else.

- He does get jealous super easily. He doesn’t even know how he pulled you in the first place, but he WON’T lose you.

- Has and will use his connections from the Black Dragons to beat anyone who tries to get with you. He’s not going to get his hands dirty (probably because he doesn’t know how to) if he has people to do it for him.

- Celebrates every little milestone in your relationship. Expects you to remember as well. Like, what do you mean you forgot this is the anniversary of the first time he fed you?!

- Dreams of a nice, domestic life with you in the future whenever he sees you with Emma and Mikey. He wants 4 kids and a nice house by his grandpa’s dojo.

- Mikey and Emma LOVE you. You’re their big sister now! Especially Emma. It’s hard for her in an all male household, so you’re her rock when it comes to things her brothers and grandpa don’t understand.

- Emma loves to do girl things with you, like face-masks, doing nails and gossiping about boys you guys like. Although it’s only really Emma who talks about boys she likes, since she’ll get grossed out if you talk about Shinichiro in a romantic manner. That’s her stupid, goofy older brother after all..

- Mikey is constantly asking you if Shinichiro is paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend because you’re wayyyyy out of his league! Shinichiro is a bland 4 and you’re a 10!!

- Mikey and Emma definitely crash your guys’ dates sometimes. Especially if you guys are going on a picnic or to the mall.

- Grandpa Sano likes you as well, you’re keeping Shinichiro from getting into trouble and being a goof. Although, most of that is just how he is.

- Mikey definitely introduces you to Draken as his big sister. And Draken probably sees you as his big sister too, you guys probably do have cute moments.

- One time, you saw Draken sat on a bench on his own and you took him to the convenience store and got him candy to cheer him up and talk about why he was looking down. Mikey joined you guys half-way through with a bag of dorayaki (no, he did not share).

- All in all, you guys are a cute ass couple and the kids all look up to you two.

#yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers #sano #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #tr shinichiro #shinichiro headcanons #shinchiro x you #slight yandere #shin #emma sano #manjiro sano #ken ryuguji #draken #black dragons #wakasa imaushi #benkei #m4nj1r0s #headcannons #yandere!shinichiro x reader #x you #tr fluff #yandere #shinichiro x y/n

[yourheart-inmyhands]

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best. 

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #diluc x reader #diluc x male reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #dottore x reader #dottore x male reader #yandere dottore x reader #yandere dottore x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere diluc #yandere dottore #yandere zhongli

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Ruggie and his sister share the same clothes, how would Malleus, Leona, Vil, Azul, and Trey learn about this and maybe learn that Ruggie sister mentioned to their older brother that they are saving some money to the side to get herself some nice clothes in a second hand store at town near the school

What will they do? And what kind of gift they try to give them?

Ruggie’s Sibling Reader with Hand-Me-Downs | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

It's not bizarre or shameful to have hand-me-downs. In fact sometimes that makes the clothes even more special. But in this case, having an oversized uniform makes you look a certain way that makes you eye-candy to some come off a certain way. And if it weren’t for Ruggie guarding your shared way of life, you would have gone and gotten your own clothes from a secondhand store but with love like theirs this is a small feat. a perfect opportunity to make the world knows you’re his:

Malleus Draconia

“What ails you my love, it is nothing in the face of your briar prince!”

He will make sure you have clothes with his name or initials on it somewhere

Since Ruggie is so adamant about not physically marking you

He’ll just present his work to you with a mark of his own

Now should any stains come from someone who isn’t you 

Its likely you’ll never find them six feet under 

Leona Kingscholar

“You know I’ll buy it for you.”

He’s not even joking 

He’ll buy a whole wardrobe for you and Ruggie 

But you’ve got to sleep with next to him as payment

He’d still make you do that anyway but still

Give the lion what he’s due

Vil Schoenheit

“Say less. Come to Pomefiore I will make a wardrobe for you fitting of a queen!”

He showers you in outfits that are so fancy and out of your league 

It screams Vil’s property

Don’t you dare try to turn him down

Otherwise Ruggie might get suddenly unexplainably sick

Azul Ashengrotto

“If you’d like a plethora of clothes I’d love to provide, I have a contract for that right here!”

Is very eager for you to sign

If you do you’ll get all sorts of new and pricey clothes all octavinelle themed

It doesn’t matter that Ruggie’s mad you’d be wearing Azul’s clothes instead of his

But it seems he just can’t see the bigger picture

Trey Clover

“That’s a great idea, maybe we can set up a little bake sale to help?”

Of course he demands to be apart of your idea 

Spending the day before cooking alongside you

He’s going to flippantly ignore everyone who blows up his phone

He’s getting a taste of that (Y/n)-domesticity

And he’s practically drunk on it

It hurts so much to stay put while Ruggie pulls you away

But don’t be gone too long an addict can only take so much

#yandere leona kingscholar #yandere leona kingscholar x reader #yandere leona x reader #yandere leona #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere trey clover #yandere trey clover x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul twst #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus

[scary-event2369]

Yandere! Alien (ONE-SHOT)

I’m sick as hell rn and I just want to write. Sorry it’s been awhile TT

Never wrote something like this before so be nice but criticism is always welcome!!

Also been awhile since I wrote smut, so i apologize if it’s not good either

Content: AFAB Reader (no gendered terms used), aphrodisiac effect (alien’s saliva), sexual themes, alien dick (ikyk) oviposition (egg-laying/having eggs inside you), breeding, brief mention of blood.  P -> V. Cunnilingus.  This is a lighter yandere.  —

You headed up to your grandparents' mountain cabin, craving some alone time to clear your head and unplug. It was meant to be a chill getaway, a routine check. The cozy rustic vibes inside welcomed you, but what caught you off guard was the sight of an alien, looking totally puzzled by a simple piece of fruit. It was almost cute, but definitely not part of the plan.

It was not even a full 24-hours before you heard a loud crash outside. Your first thought was a tree possibly falling. To your surprise, there was this odd pod thing sitting there. 

You immediately wanted to call someone, but then you remembered. No service, no humans around for miles – classic mountain problems. However, your curiosity got the best of you, so you grabbed a stick and poked the mysterious pod. It hissed open, releasing a fog that revealed a towering alien.

This dude was something else. Humanoid, but not quite right. Terrifying yet strangely captivating. Pale, almost ghostly skin, cat-like features with pointy ears and weird dark marks all over. Antennas sticking out of his head and long silky smooth white hair flowing down. 

Now, a few days later, he couldn't take his eyes off an apple, completely captivated like a kid in a candy store. His long finger reached out, gently tapping it.

"Want a bite?" I interrupted his apple stare-down. He turned to me, his language sounding weird, definitely not from around here, but the guy picked up English crazy fast.

"Can eat this?" he questioned, his voice all deep and otherworldly, like trying to put words to an alien sound. I nod, “Yeah go ahead. It’s pretty tasty.”

He snatched the apple, giving it a good sniff and admiring its vibrant red hue. Hesitating for a moment, he finally decided to take a cautious bite. His eyes widened, almost sparkling with surprise. Without wasting any time, he went for another bite, a grin spreading across his face.

A little chuckle escaped me."So, what do you think? Is the apple a hit?” I asked him between giggles. His mouth was full of the apple, the juice pouring down her cheek. “Apple... good," he responded with a few mysterious words, likely compliments, before switching back to English. "Tastes like Earth. Want more."

"More apples?" I questioned, making sure. His face lit up with happiness as he nodded. I got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen. I grabbed more apples, including some oranges and pears for good measure. Dumping the fruity treasure on the end table, I declared, "Voila!"

He gobbled up the whole apple, even the core, and then flopped into a chair by the table. Snatching an orange, he sniffed it just like he did with the apple. A big bite, some chewing, and he declared, "Different, but good,” he mumbled with a nod. "Earth food, good." I shook my head, chuckling. "No, you can't eat the skin like that. Let me peel it for you," I said, quickly peeling it for him. "Here, give it another shot. It'll be way tastier this way." I held out the peeled orange, urging him to try it again.

He narrowed his eyes at it, unsure, then decided to take another bite. The look on his face mirrored the one he had when munching on the apple. "This is real good," he exclaimed, before launching into a stream of excited chatter in his own language. "You," he stopped to find the right word. "Smart! Lots of cool things. I wanna know more."

I flashed him a smile, saying, "Awh, thanks! I'm curious to know more about you too." We took a little pause, just locking eyes. His big, dark, almost black orbs were fixed right on me, kind of hypnotic. I turned my head and blurted out, "So, um, what else do you wanna find out?" His intense look left me a bit flustered.

I still felt his intense gaze burning into the side of my head. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and yanked me back onto the couch, plopping down beside me. I was a bit confused, but I took this as him wanting to know what this was. “Oh, this thing? It's a couch. Like a big chair, so more people fit on it," I explained.

He gave a little nod, inching closer. Those eyes were still locked onto mine, like he had something important to say but was stuck on the words. Next thing I knew, his hands were on my cheeks, squishing them, and his forehead rested against mine. Our noses touched. If you told me a few days ago that a massive alien would nuzzle noses with me and I'd just roll with it, I'd have called you nuts. However I just let it happen. Despite us knowing each other only a few days I felt a strange trust and connection to him. 

I raised an eyebrow, still kinda confused but not backing off. His fingers, long and gentle, traced my cheek, giving me a ticklish feeling. His breath brushed against my face, and he stayed quiet. “So… is this some alien custom or what?" I questioned, getting even more confused by all the physical contact. He nodded, making a small clicking noise. Then he began to say a bunch of words in his native language. I think he could notice I wasn't understanding in the slightest because he let out a huff before he kissed me quickly.

I gasped at the sudden feeling. It wasn't like any regular kiss; it was way more enjoyable, sending a tingling and numbing feeling through me. His lips still held the sweetness from the fruit we had earlier.

His hand moved to the back of my head, pulling me in closer, while the other one continued to gently stroke my cheek. A warmth began to wrap around me, it was a strange feeling, but one I wasn’t pulling away from. 

I shut my eyes and leaned in, returning his kiss. A surge of warmth enveloped us, almost like a sweet paralysis. It was too irresistible to pull away.

The hold he had on the back of my neck got a bit tighter. It didn’t hurt but it was obvious he didn’t want me to pull away, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. His soft lips were intoxicating, both of our lips moving in rhythm. 

His tongue teased my bottom lip, coaxing them to open. It felt like an aphrodisiac, a warm and comforting sensation. Slowly, I surrendered as he pressed me down onto the couch, rendering me completely immobile.

Breaking away, he panted slightly, and we gazed at each other breathlessly. It felt like we were just staring at each other for hours, even though it was only a couple seconds. The warm feeling growing in my chest and stomach was growing, it was pure need.

Gasping for breath, he uttered "Xylorvex," a word in his native tongue. Pausing for a moment, thinking, he repeated, "Mate. You're mine, all mine." With that, he pressed his head against my neck, as he began to kiss and suck the skin.

The words hit me, making my face burn as he nibbled and kissed my neck. His teeth were sharp, but he tried to be gentle, though sometimes he bit too hard, making me bleed.

Yet, he was quick to lick and clean the wounds, sending a rush of arousal through me. My body went numb, and all I could feel was the strange alien's touch. His kisses left me craving more. "P-please," I stammered, desperate.

The strange creature stared at me, clearly confused. I let out a groan and pleaded, "I need more," hoping it would catch my drift. It took a while but then he nodded, finally understanding as his long fingers slowly pulled down my pants and now slicked covered underwear.

The cold air on my bare pussy made me flitch and shiver slightly. He brought one his face down and looked at it which only made me more embarrassed but aroused. After a while he brought his hand towards it, going up and down the folds, gathering more of the wetness. I let out a shaky moan and quivered slightly. I was so turned on it was almost painful. The creature watched as my pussy convulse around nothing. He slowly brought his face towards it as he began to carefully lap the folds. I cover my mouth as I let out a loud mouth. My breathing has gone heavy yet shallow as he continued licking and sucking. It was tingling in a way that caused more sensations than ever. I grabbed a handful of his hair, not knowing whether I was pulling him closer or pushing him away.

“Sweet. Like fruit,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving my cut as it dripped leaving a small pool onto the couch. He quickly went back towards it, slurping up all the arousal that poured out of me. He was mostly silent throughout this, a few clicks that I took as happiness as his half-lidded eyes switched from my pussy to my face. Luckily enough I was making enough noises for the both. It was only a matter of minutes before I felt my orgasm building full force. He began to swirl his long tongue around my clit sucking on it before going back towards my hole pushing his tongue in. “Nghh~ ah fuck~” I moaned out loudly as I came all over his face. The slick trailing down his chin as he made sure to give my pussy a few more kisses before sitting back up and looking at me. “Good?” I nodded as my chest went up and down heavily. I have never experienced anything like that before and it took a lot of the energy out of me. He smiled slightly as he then took off his pants showing his now fully erect dick, it was nothing like you have ever seen before. It was long and girthy, with the same black markings that were across his skin. It was veiny, and twitching. Despite being quiet it was obvious he was just as excited as you were. 

He slowly rubbed the entrance, gathering my slick onto his dick. I rarely had time to think before he pushed it in slowly, filling me up instantly. We both let out a moan as he bottomed out. The clicking noise became louder as he began to mumble something. He kissed my lips before he started to thrust his and wiggle inside me.

It was otherworldly, it was like his cock was perfectly morphing itself to my folds causing a sensation I couldn’t explain. The moans I let out came off as more of screams as I gripped the couch. However they were not as loud as they could be because of his sweet kisses, almost praising and encouraging me to take it.

You quickly learned that his species had a strong stamina. He was doing all sorts of positions with you, forcing orgasm after orgasm before all you could do was cry and take the pleasure. Hours later and after your nth orgasm did he finally cum. He gave his final thrusts as he shot his load inside you. The warmth filling you as you whined. You could  feel him depositing large eggs within you. Causing your belly to bulge as he cooed and petted your head.

After he laid all his eggs within you he finally put out, a clear sticky substance pooled out of your entrance as you trembled. The alien held you close as he brought you to the bed, grabbing something he thought was a towel and wiped you up.

You quickly fell passed out as he cuddled up next to you, spooning you and continuing his pats to your head. He just knew that you’ll be such a kind and loving mate for the children slowly growing inside you.

#yandere #yandere boyfriend #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere male x reader #afab reader #spicy #alien #alien oc #alien boyfriend #yandere alien #yandere teratophillia #yandere exophilia

[crash-and-cure]

Every Minute, Every Hour (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You were out. You were out goddamnit. How was he here?

A/N: Soooo.... It’s been awhile. Writer’s block is an absolute son of a bitch. So this is based on an idea I had and requested to @venus-haze a couple months ago and which I almost completely forgot about until I got this request and I decided two birds and all that. I also acknowledge that there was another similar request made a while back, to the person who requested it don’t worry, I do have plans for it. 

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and delusional behavior. Dubious Consent in regards to coersion being involved. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), female mastubation, slight dumbification, and implied anal play. Brief depictions of choking. Touch-starvation. Mentions of Pregnancy. Referenced cheating on Elvis' part. Self-loathing. Stockholm Syndrome(?) Probably more that I am blanking on. Period-typical homophobia and closeted characters depicted. Please do not interact if you are under 18. 

Word Count: 19.8K

Masterlist

----------

You look like an angel (look like an angel)

Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You’re the devi-

It takes you longer than you would have liked to reach the radio and turn it off. And it’s only as you reach it do you realize how odd it looks from the outside when you see a customer looking at you funny. 

“Not much of a fan,” you say with an admittedly pathetic smile on your face. 

“I can see that,” he replies with an awkward smile, before going back to browsing the books. 

You bashfully turn the radio back on and quickly try to turn the knob to anything even remotely comprehensible, but it’s just your luck that this is the only station you get decent reception on in the store. With no other choice but to simply grin and bear it you put the volume on low and return to reading your book. 

You do keep an eye on your final customer of the evening, and hope he hurries up so you can finally close up for the day. Susan had been complaining about a migraine since lunch and Gina was caring for her upstairs and so it was on you to close up the shop on your own today. 

You feel embarrassed to have been seen that way but that all falls away when you hear the shop bell ring, only to be immediately followed by tiny rapid footsteps and an excited little “mama!” and you grab onto the counter before your little two and a half foot terror can knock out from behind you. Which ends up being the right call as you feel her head butt your knees and locking her arms around them nearly knocking you down.  

“Mama! Mama!” she squealed, practically vibrating, she was so excited to see you. 

“Rosie! Rosie!” you say, equally as happy to see her though you do a far better job at reining it in. She takes your hands in hers as you crouch down to look at her, and take stock. Her hair is askew with the ribbons you had tied in place this morning holding on for dear life in her beautiful curls, her face is smudgy with what you’re hoping is chocolate, and one of her socks is just gone, but both shoes are in place so you can only imagine how your little hellion managed that. Overall this is the best condition Rosie has returned to you in, after a long day with Jenny.

“Mama, Aunty Jenny took me to the Candy store!” she says, showing off the candy bracelets on her tiny wrists. 

“Really,” you say, shooting a look at your friend for giving her so much sugar before bed. The woman in question has the courtesy to at least look a little guilty about it, before giving a small laugh. 

“Mm-hmm. And we saw Danny at the playground and we-we saw Uncle Lee’s friends, and then we listened to a lotta music, and we saw a movie about a wizard and there was no one else in the whole room, and then-then…” she rapidly rambles on but you pepper her face in kisses before she can pass out from the lack of oxygen. She giggles uncontrollably and tries to squirm out of your grip, but you gotta get in one good raspberry on her cheek before you let her go.

“Alright, why don’t you go upstairs and help Aunty Gina finish up dinner,” you tell her with a smile on your face. Her “help” in the kitchen is typically watching and holding spoons and spatulas on a step stool, but she’s at an age where she believes the whole dish would fall apart without her important contribution to it, so she goes rushing to the stairs. 

But she quickly comes running back while taking the uneaten bracelet off of her wrist. “Danny said to give this to you for your birthday,” she declares. Ever since meeting Jenny’s nephew she’s seemed to hang on to every word of his, and though you’ve never met the boy he seems to be a good kid, always polite and saying hello through your daughter, but has, as you've heard, an extreme affinity towards spinning a few too many fantastical stories. But your daughter is far too young to see him as anything but a friend so you doubt you have anything to worry about as of right now. 

She’s always so eager to tell you about everything, and you’re just as eager to listen. Your folks never wanted to hear anything from you, and you pray that your attentiveness will pay off one day when she is never afraid to come to you with your troubles. Maybe if you had that with your mother you wouldn’t be where you were.

“Well tell him I said thank you,” you say, as you pull it on your wrist, placing a small kiss on her forehead before she books it back to the stairs behind the counter. As you stand back up, to your surprise you find the customer now at the counter with a good stack of books. 

“Sorry to bother Miss…ummm…” the customer says nervously. 

“Love,” you clarify for him. “Y/N Love.”

He gives a shy smile at that, “Well Miss Love, I’m ‘bout ready to check out so…” he says gesturing to his tower of books. 

“Of course,” you answer and you begin to ring him up. He’s got quite a few so at least he makes the extra time staying down here somewhat worth it. 

“Whatcha readin’ there,” he asks you, pointing to the open book you’ve left to your side. You show him your copy of We have always lived in the castle. “I-is it any good?”

“I would say so,” you answer. Though that ending did hit a little too close to home, you think to yourself. 

“So umm, d-do you like to read?” he asks hesitantly as he quietly adds a copy of the book to his pile. 

“I’d be in the wrong business if I didn’t,” you joke, and he laughs a little too hard. “How ‘bout you?” you ask, wanting to not have an awkward silence, as you’re not even halfway through the stack. 

“Yeah, I-I love reading though I don’t got a lotta time for it these days,” he says with a guilty smile on his face. 

“Why’s that?” you ask, since it seems to be the only way this conversation could go. 

“I-I just started my residency at Charity Hospital,” he says bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Sam by the way,” apparently realizing that he hadn’t made the proper introductions. 

“Y/N,” you say, giving him a small nod and a smile. “And congratulations on your residency,” you're almost done with the final few books, but you may or may not be taking your time to finish them up, wanting to prolong the conversation you’re having for a bit. 

“Thank you, and I- well, umm… I couldn’t help but overhear your daughter, but umm… Happy Birthday,” he says ducking his head, a bit embarrassed at his own admission. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say, your face heating up slightly that he had heard. 

“Your Husband’s a lucky man,” he says, though he does steal a quick glance at you, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

So this is what it’s about, you think to yourself. “I’m actually not…” you trail off, and hope that he gets the message. 

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that,” he stated before his eyes widened as he realized what he just said. “I-I mean not glad like I’m happy that you-you’re not married, bu-but glad li-like I’m relieved that I hav-haven’t been trying to build up the courage to talk to a cute girl for the past few weeks only to find out she’s married already.” he blathers on and you can’t help but laugh. 

Your heart does flutter a bit at his confession. Everything about this feels like it should be perfect. Unfortunately for the both of you, you finally get a good look at his icy blue eyes that are a little too familiar for comfort, and it feels like your throat closes up. 

You can feel your stomach churning (and not just from the baby that fills it) and cold regret for not buying an extra pair of socks as you sit at the Greyhound terminal in Nashville, your feet starting practically turning into ice blocks. That cold November morning you had made a show of telling everybody you were gonna make a quick trip down to the shops for some eggs, now you’re almost a full state away praying that the bus gets here soon, jumping every time a set of headlights passes by and you're just barely keeping dry underneath the metal canopy. 

But for as cold as you are physically, your chest starts to heat up at the prospect that you’re so close to freedom from an even colder gaze. When the bus does get there you hardly sleep a wink afraid to let your guard down even now. You know how well he could sabotage your plans if he was so inclined, from small things like spoiling the surprise party you had planned for him to the major of ruining your chances to get into another school. 

You know he’s half a world away yet that still does little knowing what the most loyal of his are willing to do for him. It’s not until you finally make it to the train station in Atlanta that’ll take you down to New Orleans that you finally give in to your heavy eyelids, willing to trust strangers with your safety, aware they can’t hurt you any worse than those you know have done. 

You shake your head as you’re brought back to the present, and you hear him say something, “I’m sorry what?” you covertly wiggle your toes as you try to ground yourself and get sensation back in them as though you were just getting them out of the cold.

“I was just sayin’ there’s this club down on Bourbon that I been meanin’ to check out since movin’ down here, and I was hopin’ a local such as yourself could show me ‘round these parts,” he says, a nervous but hopeful smile on his lips. 

For a moment you can almost imagine saying yes to him, how he would take you out on the town, how he would kiss you, how he would throw your daughter up in the air. How maybe you could be happy with him.

But like a looming black cloud, in spite of the lowered volume, you hear what the new station is now playing, clear as a bell.

Oh please come to my arms and say you'll love me forever

For with the dawn, you'll be gone 

It’s almost as though He’s following you, serving as a constant reminder of what you did, and that you’re never allowed to imagine being with another man. You wordlessly turn off the radio before you’re forced to listen anymore. “Uhh, I-I’m sorry, I-I really don’t go out much,” you say, trying to shut this down as gently as you could. 

“Oh-uhh, that’s fine I umm,” he says, pivoting hard. “I’m more of a movie guy myself, I hear he’s got a new one out, and we can go and watch anything but that,” he gives a small laugh pointing to the radio, but quickly drops it upon seeing your grim expression. 

Without knowing it Sam just shut the coffin on any potential happenings between the two of you. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I gotta close up for the night,” you say softly, and he’s smart enough to take the hint. 

“O-of course,” he says looking down at the books he has in his hands. “But can you promise you’ll think about it?” he asks as he reaches the door to look back at you. 

Even before you open your mouth, you already know that your next words are going to make you lose a customer forever. “There’s nothing to think about,” you say, trying to feign apathy. Harsh as your words may be, you know this is far kinder to him in the long run as opposed to getting more involved with you. 

You watch him leave the store with a sagging shoulders and a long face, before you feel a hand meet violently with the back of your head, and you swivel around to see Jenny with an exasperated look on her face. “So a handsome, single, doctor who loves to read, and doesn’t mind that you already got a kid, asks you out and you say…” she trails off, seeming to only get more offended with every dreamy quality he had. 

“Don’tchu get like that Jenny,” you defend yourself, as you stomp to the door in order to flip the sign to closed and lock up for the night. “I’ve got a daughter to worry about and I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now.”

“Well newsflash Y/N,” she argues, “Rosie needs a daddy.”

You feel your hackles rising at that statement. “No she doesn’t,” you state firmly, not wanting to raise your voice, because you know better than anyone how easy it is to be overheard.

She deflates a little at your obvious fury at this line of questioning, before letting out a long tired sigh. “It’s just that… when we were at the park today… she asked me why she didn’t have one. And she… she just kept pressing,” she says obviously ashamed that she hurt you, but wanting to get across her reasoning. “What am I supposed to say to that? Especially when you won’t tell nobody what happened. I only got her to drop it when I took her to the candy shop.”

You feel guilty for snapping at your friend. Jenny Hodge had been an absolute godsend since you met her almost a year ago, when she and her new husband, Lee, had moved down from Alabama. Her arrival had coincided when Rosie started becoming aggressively mobile and insisted that running was the only way to get around anymore. And because she felt she needed practice with being a Mama before she had one of her own, she insisted on being your one and only babysitter, in exchange for free books every so often. 

The story around the block is that you are were the young widow who “tragically” lost her husband in an accident before he ever had the chance to meet your beautiful daughter, and with no one in the world left to turn to, you ended up on your “spinster” aunt and her “good friend” Susan’s doorstep. And Jenny, since hearing your story, has by far been your most fervent supporter outside of this house, with her support primarily coming in two flavors: 1) helping you with your daughter so she isn’t so cooped up in the store while you work and 2) trying to set you up with any moderately successful man.

“Y/N,” she says softly. “I get that it’s hard to get back out there, but you need to think about the bigger picture, because it’s only a matter of time before she starts asking you.”

You know she’s right, and that’s the worst part about it. Your little Rosie Love is a stubborn one, not to mention smart, always has been. Didn’t want to walk because she wanted to run. Hated her diaper so much she learned how to unpin it when she was barely a year old. Wanted to try to feed herself when she first took to solid food, and would snatch the spoon out of your hand when she could. She’s broken out of every play pen she’s ever been in. Hell, she was almost two weeks overdue, and the doctors were forced to induce you, she didn’t want to come out until she was good and ready.

She, like someone else you knew, is capable of throwing a wrench into any plan you make. For as endearing as it can be, it is all the more frustrating knowing exactly where she gets it from. 

With a long defeated sigh, you concede to her point and thank her for both her input and for being a good friend this past year. And maybe someday you’ll be ready to find another husband.

She has a wide cheshire-cat like grin as you say that, “And I’mma ‘bout to be a better one,” she practically sings. “Lee’s friend is in town, and I think you two would hit it off.” 

“And I think we wouldn’t,” you state, putting books back where they belong. 

“C’mon Y/N, I thought we were past this,” she whines.

“I did say someday, not today,” you emphasize.

“Y/N, your birthday’s comin’ up soon, and it ain’t like you’re gettin’ any younger. Besides Lee and I are already trying for a baby, so I ain’t gonna be so available much longer neither,” she says in a soft voice holding your hands in hers. “And you need to find someone you can rely on too, it’s not like you wanna end up like your Aunt Gina”

You say nothing not wanting to say anything incriminating about the relationship between your Aunts, as for all that you trust Jenny, you don’t trust her enough with somebody else’s secrets. 

“Just promise me you'll think about it at least,” she pleads, hands clasped over your own. 

What is it about people that, not trusting you when you answer the first time, and thinking given enough time you’ll come around? 

Yet you're no better as you let out a long tired sigh, before ultimately agreeing, if only to get her off your back. Or so you tell yourself. 

She tells you a bit about the man she has in mind for you, or more accurately she keeps insisting how perfect the two of you would be together.  In her mind it’ll be love at first sight, how he’ll love and accept Rosie as his own immediately, how she guarantees that you’ll be married within a year and be trying to give Rosie a little brother or sister. You have to bodily shove her out the door by that point lest she get into any more specifics in her attempt to sway you. 

Jenny’s a little older than you, but she is very much a romantic at heart, you suppose, though that’s the benefit of things going right in your life. 

But your story went wrong. 

“Why you in such a hurry to get out girl?” your accomplice would ask as he handed you the money (He had made it a point of order that you were never to handle any) the day before your escape. 

“There’s someone else,” you say simply, because it’s true and if they were to ever betray your trust this would be worse on them than on you. 

You got away with quite a bit back in the day like getting out of trouble for making out in a dark empty classroom by claiming to have been caught by surprise by your monthlies and now you couldn’t bear the thought of being seen like this. Or when you got hired by the library for the summer after you approached the front desk and claimed to be the new hire ready for her first day of training and nobody really bothered to check in with anybody else. Even that one time when you confidently strolled backstage at a music hall He had wanted to perform all to sneak them in through the back door and convinced just enough people that his band was meant to perform that night.

Your ability to make up stories on the fly and map things out in your head had led you to believe that you would make for a pretty good mystery writer. You had even tried to go to school to be one, though you told everyone it was to be a teacher, a far more respectable and womanly job.

Well not everyone.

He certainly knew. 

Knew about your talent for planning and story-telling, and was practically always in awe to see it in action. But this recognition came at the expense that he was aware of your tricks and he always knew how to throw you off just enough to make any plans you made go belly up. Whether it was something relatively small like figuring out you were planning a surprise party to the major… like when you tried to end things the first time around.

He called you almost every night when he was on tour, and you had done your best to relay all that was going on back in Memphis. And in spite of his insistence that he wants to hear about it, you suspect that he wasn’t being truthful. He especially seemed disgruntled when you made any mention of doing anything with anyone else. Your friends, his friends, even your own family weren’t safe from his ire.  

When He was here you would do everything together, yet now that you tell him about all that you’d been doing, there is a slight but noticeable edge when he speaks to you over the phone. Everytime you mention how you went to the movie theater or you went to the record store or the bookshop, it was almost always met with a solemn “we used to do that together.” 

You would have gone with him, had your parents let you, and He knows that so you don’t understand why he’s so sore about the fact that you’re not simply sitting on your hands back home waiting for him to return. 

So in an effort to spare his feelings you asked him about the things he was doing, you even go out of your way to say how happy you were when he was telling you about all of the fun things he had done on the road. You’re happy to hear it all and you thought 

You miss him just as fiercely but you don’t want it to stop you from living. 

But when you got your acceptance letter, you saw the writing on the wall. You both were going in different directions: you were going to be studying, were barely going to be home and his star just kept growing and growing each day taking him further out and making him harder to reach. You know you wanted this and you begin to suspect you may want it more than you want to stay with him, if staying with him meant being alone all the same. 

This was only confirmed in the weeks leading up to Prom when you couldn’t get a straight answer out of him of whether or not He would be able to make it. It was on you to practically plan everything down to what he would wear, while his whole contribution was to show up- maybe?

Whether He did show up or not that night, you thought the result would be the same with you officially breaking things off between you two. But you still held out hope that at least if he did come you would have one last good memory. 

And to your relief He does make it, but he’s a little off the whole night. Not in the sense that his mind is elsewhere, more like he’s trying to commit everything about the night into memory, and looking at you with sad eyes when he thinks you’re not looking. 

It all comes to a head when you’re parked outside of your house, and you’re sitting in a loaded silence with him at the wheel. He’s gripping onto that thing for dear life and you’re wondering if maybe you should save it, but you think you know yourself well enough to know that if you don’t say it now, you won't say it ever. 

So as he’s opening his mouth to say something, you cut him off with his name. 

“...I-I got accepted to Southwestern,” you blurted out to him and He looked so confused at your admission, but you push through. “I start in the fall, so I’m not gonna be home much anymore, and with y-you being on the road so much, I think it best that we-”

“Marry me,” he blurts out, panic etched across his face.

Your jaw is left practically on the floor as that was the last thing you ever expected out of his mouth. 

You would later find out that he went to Prom with the same intention as you did but it was in that moment that he realized you weren’t going to wait for him to come back did he want to lock you down. But you didn’t see that in the moment. 

What you saw at the time was the declaration that he was just as committed as you were, and so overwhelmed by the love you still felt for him at the time, you had no choice but to give an emphatic yes to him. 

“We’re gonna figure this out baby,” He promises with a kiss. 

That was the first time you tried to leave him.

“-Danny’s a real good singer Aunty. He told me he lives in Neverland and one day he would take me and-and he told me this is the only place in the whole word that they sell peanut butter cups,” you would hear as you made your way up the stairs connecting to the apartment above the store. You look into the small kitchen where you see your little girl sitting on the counter talking her aunt’s ear off idly dangling her little feet while holding a spatula you're not entirely sure is necessary. Gina looks over to you and gives you a playfully exasperated look, and you simply shrug your shoulders before moving into the small kitchen to pepper your little one's face in kisses. 

“Alright sticky missy,” you announce, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and swiping the utensil out of her hand as she trills in delight. “You go wash up for dinner now, ya’ hear, and go wake up Aunty, I think she’ll feel alot better seeing you.”

“Ok Mama,” she says. She is utterly fearless as she slides herself to get off of the counter, and lands on her feet below. You can’t help the swell of pride that bubbles up in your chest seeing it, how brave your little girl is. You hope that you can take it as a sign that you’re doing ok at this motherhood thing. 

Gina likes to say that you were just as bold at that age with the confidence of someone so sure they can take on the world, and in quieter moments she’ll lament how you lost that in you. You would be offended if you didn’t already know when exactly you lost it. 

She had always been your favorite Aunt until you were about twelve and and your father would coldly tell you she died and was in hell now. Rather than a funeral, the family got together to destroy her things and swear to never speak of her again. 

That didn’t stop her from visiting you one last time and telling you she was moving down to New Orleans with her friend Susan. She would take you to your favorite bookstore one last time in Memphis and promised that if you ever needed a place to stay, to not even hesitate to come, because she knew better than anyone what your family would do to girls who stepped out of line. 

For years the only evidence that she was even alive was the annual birthday and Christmas gift you would get from her all under the guise of Nancy Drew books stamped with the name of a bookstore all the way in New Orleans. You cherished them and it’s one of the few things you took after your parents kicked you out. 

You only wished you had taken the offer when your father had kicked you out and you were forced to rely on someone else. 

“So I hear you broke another heart,” Gina idly says as she starts scooping some rice onto a plate.

You let out a long sigh, “When did Jenny find the time to tell you?” You’re more amazed than annoyed considering she didn’t leave your sight once down stairs. 

“Jenny?” she says, raising a brow. “No Sue told me earlier how Lou from King’s Cafe ‘s been askin’ after you.”

Lou who always had extra beignets to give away when you took Rosie for a walk in the mornings. He recently asked if you had ever been on the Algiers ferry, and how beautiful it looked at night.

…You’ve been taking a different route to the playground since then. 

“Is my love life just everybody’s business,” you ask frustrated that you weren’t even given a five minute break from this. 

“In this house: yes,” she states, a grin on her face. 

“Gina if this is about me movin’ out, you can talk to me, I’m a big girl,” you insist, trying to deflect and not have to think about it anymore. 

“Sweetheart,” she says solemnly, placing a hand on your cheek. I may not be your mama, but I do think that you need to think about what’s best for Rosie,” she insists as she puts place mats down on the table. 

Gina’s a little closer to the situation than Jenny, as she had asked no questions as to why you all of a sudden needed a place to stay far from your parents with nary a husband or boyfriend in sight to take responsibility for the baby growing within you. She had also been the one to help spread the tragic young widow narrative, and for as much of a gossip she can be, you know she’s a steel trap for secrets that matter. 

“What does me getting, or not getting, a boyfriend have to do with Rosie?”

“A boyfriend? Nothing,” she dismisses. “A husband on the other hand…”she says with a smile.

“Don’tchu come talkin’ to me ‘bout gettin’ a husband,” you say, handing her another plate of food. 

She laughs at that, “It’s not just about you gettin’ a husband, it’s about Rosie gettin’ a father,” she insists amused at your mulishness. 

“Not you too,” you mourn what you thought was going to be a quiet evening. 

“I’m just sayin’ that every child deserves two parents,” putting the lid back on the pot. 

“She’s got three mama’s,” you counter.

“No,” she says waving the wooden spoon in front of your face. “She’s got one mama and two grandmas that spoil her rotten behind your back.” You open your mouth to protest, until she quickly follows up with, “Oh speak of the devil herself,” as you see your little troublemaker dragging Susan by the hand to the table, whom you had to bully into taking a rest to somewhat alleviate the migraine she had been having for most of the day.

Your daughter can talk for hours if left unchecked and you're eager to hear all of it as she bounces from subject to subject at the dinner table. You had always felt somewhat guilty intruding on their space, but Gina insists nothing of the sort and Susan jokes that the two of them are getting the full kid/grandkid experience through you and Rosie, since the traditional way ain’t for them.

Between bites she regaled the three of you with all that she did today which included seeing a dog, the playground being shiny, spinning around so fast on the merry-go-round she almost went into space, made friends with some of the ducks, saw another dog, Danny gave her his popcorn, got a lot of candy from the candy shop, and gave some jelly beans to the last dog she saw today, but only the green ones she doesn’t like, and then feeling bad about it and giving it some of the red ones to even it out.

She doesn’t mention anything to you about asking Jenny about why she doesn't have a daddy, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the first break you’ve had all day. Some may say you indulge her too much, but all three grown women at this table know exactly how it feels to have their thoughts and feelings ignored, and you all had come to the mutual understanding that Rosie would never have to feel this way in this house.

“Mama, I forgot to tell you,” Rosie states after she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth. “Barbie got a new job today!” she delights as she thrusts the doll in your face. 

“Really?” you say trying to match even a quarter of her excitement. “Is she mmm… a firefighter?”

“No!” she squeals, delighted in the game you play with her. 

Making a big show of putting a finger to your temple and closing one eye, apparently deep in thought, you ask, “Is she a… detective?” 

“No that was yesterday!” she’s practically buzzing to tell you, but holds it in to keep this game going.

“Oh!” you say, pretending to have a lightbulb moment. “She’s a wizard!” You know your daughter well enough, so you’re reasonably confident in your guess knowing that Jenny took her to see that Disney movie today. 

“No,” she laughs, “She’s an actress, but she also sings in all her movies.”

“O-oh,” you say, genuinely caught off guard by that. “Why’s that?” It’s certainly not an unusual thing for a little girl to declare, but for your daughter it most definitely was. When she declared what Barbie was going to be it was always influenced by something she saw that day. Sometimes she was a baker, sometimes a ballerina, even one memorable time a bus driver, but this is a first. Even when she has seen movies with actors in it she didn’t quite understand the concept that those aren’t their real jobs on screen, and she would pick that, which is why you guessed wizard.

“Because Danny does that,” she declares, as she starts to make Barbie dance on the dinner table.

And then it made sense, your daughter’s friend, Danny, who according to Jenny, has a penchant for making up stories. To your daughter the boy’s been a cowboy, a soldier, he’s as strong as superman, can play any instrument, and now apparently is a famous actor. 

You give an amused huff, “I see Danny’s at it again,” you state, as you take her plate. It’s a literal miracle that Jenny’s impromptu trip to the candy store didn’t spoil her appetite, and but you don’t know how much of an appetite she’ll have for dessert so you decide to just split a slice of King cake with her. 

“At what mama?” she asks as Gina wipes some of her food off her face. 

“He’s telling stories again,” you say as you bring Gina and Susan their dessert plates. 

“No he’s not,” she states, furrowing her brow, and you can’t help but quirk a smile at how stressed she looks as you sit down. “I saw it myself.” 

“I’m sure you did, but Honey, it's just… sometimes boys have a habit of telling… tall tales,” you suppose that’s the nice way of putting it. It’s a fine line you walk with her, wanting to have her believe in herself most of all, but also wanting her to not believe everything she’s told, especially by boys. You’re the textbook example of what happens to supposedly smart girls who get in too deep with charming boys.

“But it’s true mama,” she insists, raising her voice a bit. 

“Sweetheart, I think he means, he wants to be that when he grows up,” you try to gently justify, as you subtly try to nudge the fork closer to her. 

“No mama, I saw it,” she asserts, getting progressively more upset defending her friend. “He is a famous actor and he was singing and dancing at the theater.”

“And I’m sure he’s gonna be a big star one day when he’s all grown up,” you try to assuage how worked up she’s getting. “But I don’t think he’s one right now.” 

“No mama!” she yells at the top of her lungs, angry tears streaming down her face. “You’re a liar!” You feel your stomach drop to the floor and she herself looks shocked at what she just said. She proceeds to cry even harder before turning tail and running straight into the room you share with her and slamming the door as hard as she could. 

When you were far enough away, and somewhat comfortable in your new environment in Your Aunties home, the first thing you did was read nearly every book about motherhood you could find. You were determined to do this right as you had made the unilateral decision for your baby to only have one parent. So you decided as a means of making up for it you would be all the parent she would need. 

Doubt creeps into the back of your throat that you made the wrong decision and that you in fact were not enough on your own and that she never would have done that if He were around. 

“You want me to go talk to her?” Gina would ask after hearing your door slam shut. 

As bad as you want to say yes from the exhausting day you’ve had so far, you’re not about to foist your duties as a mother off onto her right now. She understands but you don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Sue, as she walks away to clean up dinner, and you bury your hand in your face hoping if you wish hard enough this day will finally come to a close. 

“I remember the first time I yelled at my mama,” Sue off-handedly says after a few minutes. “Always too scared that that wretched woman would beat me black and blue if I was ever less than perfect,” she takes a sip of her tea. “And she did just that when I got fed up with all her teasing about me getting a boyfriend.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“What I’m gettin’ at is… I was never comfortable enough with my own mother to be angry with her.”

“Am I bad at this?” 

“You’re still new at this Hon,” she reassures you. “There's a big difference.”

Despite the fact that Gina was the one related to you by blood, Sue’s the only one in the world who even has an inkling as to what exactly you left behind. And that is only because she was a front row spectator to it.

You had managed to get permission to leave the hotel room for a few hours while He was on set that day. He had brought you down from Memphis, not wanting you so far out of reach and yet you were still pretty much kept confined. You had long since exhausted the books you had brought for the trip, and you were practically itching to get out. 

Books were your only escape from this place. Where you could vicariously solve a mystery or meet royalty or stop a war or any other number of exciting things in your head. But inevitably you close the book and the story ends and your back in this fucking hotel room. 

You realize by getting more books you're just masking a symptom rather than actually treating the illness. You couldn’t take it anymore and had begged Him to at least let you go to a bookstore to keep you occupied, because by that point you were willing to pay the price for it. 

Sue had been the only one in the store the day but you hadn’t really taken notice of her, your eyes had been darting around everywhere trying to find Gina. Sonny was in there as well, as you were only able to bargain your way to being in here and picking out the books, but not enough to be able to enter the store alone. Sonny had been the one to pull the short straw and had been put on Y/N duty today. Usually that consisted of sitting in the hotel and making sure you didn’t go anywhere while also completely ignoring you.

Everybody knows the story of the last guy that paid a little too much attention to you. You still couldn’t look at raw ground beef without crying.

Outside of the occasional gathering you don’t really interact with anybody out of the immediate vicinity of home. It’s funny how He can put you in a room filled to the brim with his people yet make you feel so alone at the same time. It would be amazing if it didn’t make you feel so awful at the same time. 

It’s a terrible thing He does, but it’s made all the worse that so many people can see what he’s doing keeping you prisoner and isolated and yet no one will ever dare breach it 

If anything they actually help him as they all report to him practically what you did that day, do their best to talk you out of leaving the room, and even when you do insist on going off on your own, the men are quick to remind you that He won’t like it one bit. They won’t physically stop you, (they know the worst thing they can do is put their hands on you) but you know that’s where their “help” begins and ends. 

At one point you even tried to play ball and asked for His permission last time you were in LA and you had wanted to go to the Griffith Observatory. You had asked in advance, agreed to only being there for two hours, and even gave in to being essentially chaperoned from a distance. Initially He had agreed to the terms and You thought you had done good and maybe you were finally coming to somewhat of a middle ground with him. 

But in the days leading up to the trip He would ask for favors in return. They all just happened to be things you had refused to do for him up until that point. When you refused He would at first seemingly accept your answer, and then He would idly remind you of your upcoming trip before asking you again. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the connection and so you did what you thought you had to do for just the slightest taste of freedom.

Who are you kidding?

You practically begged and did tricks for Him like a dog for just the slightest bit of slack on your leash. 

You could barely move the morning of the trip both physically and emotionally drained from what he had you do the night before, but you still persevered if only to make all that you went through worth it.

It wasn’t worth it. 

Everything you saw that day was completely soured by what you had to do to get there. Every step felt like agony, and you had to make a conscious effort to not walk funny. And before you knew it the two hours were up and Red was telling you it was time to leave. 

You don’t know what’s worse, the punishments or the favors. 

You had to go the favor route today as otherwise he would have simply sent for someone to get you whatever books they could find, rather than letting you pick. You already know you’re going to get it when he finds out you went to a different bookstore than initially planned. You thought you could at the very least make it worth it by seeing one familiar face, but even fate denied you that as Gina was nowhere to be seen. 

It was cold enough to justify wearing something to cover up most of the bruises, but that didn’t mean they were all hidden. You wouldn’t know it at the time but your skittishness coupled with the bruises struck a chord with Susan before you fully checked out of the store.

“I’m sorry if this sounds like an odd question but ummm…” you say, glancing around, making sure that Sonny was too far to hear. “Does Gina work here?”

Sue immediately tenses up, and you curse your caginess, as you reassure her that you’re Gina’s niece, Y/N. She seems to relax hearing that so at least she knows that you try to maintain a good relationship, sporadic your letters may be. 

“What happened there honey?” she asks, gesturing to your wrist that has a ring of bruises on it, which you quickly move to hide. You internally curse yourself for your sloppiness. He doesn’t mean to hurt you but he tends to lose himself and be a little rougher especially when he’s worried about something else. 

He’s been a little rougher for a few months now.

“Oh-ummm,” you steal a glance at Sonny, who was making his way to the counter. “Yes I am ready to check out.” Gesturing to the three towers of books you’ve managed to accumulate.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sue nor does she miss Sonny's statement of remembering the rules as to what you’re allowed to get, if her disapproving look is anything to go by. He’s fine with you reading but doesn’t like you reading books that will put “ideas” in your head. 

You don’t exactly know what that means as the standards seem to change depending on His mood and it’s always a gamble as to what he will or won’t allow you to have. You fear the day He grows the same hatred for fictional men that he has for any man within your vicinity. 

You're genuinely sad when it comes time to pay, (Well Sonny pays, He doesn’t like the idea of you handling money), and then Susan does something you could never have anticipated in a million years as Sonny grabs one stack and goes to put it in the car. 

You wished it had been anybody but Sonny that day. His last girlfriend, whom he swore he was gonna make Mrs. Sonny West, had made the mistake of trying to befriend you outside of gatherings. She stopped by the house frequently just to visit and even invited you out to the salon. 

And it was your mistake to believe you could have a friend that he would finally approve of. Friend or family, He eventually found something to disapprove of for everybody close to you previously. You thought that because she was already nominally part of the group, it would be fine to go.  

He made it clear by the time you got home that it wasn’t. 

You never saw her again after that and Sonny’s resented you ever since. You can hardly blame him, it’s easier to point the finger at you for not anticipating the unspoken rules, as opposed to the man who signs his checks and makes the rules. 

You know that even the slightest toe out of line will be reported back to Him in the worst light. So you had to be on your best behavior. 

“Y’know I highly recommend this book,” Sue says, sliding the book she had been reading at the counter to you. 

Wide Sargasso Sea, the cover reads.

“Oh thank you but I already paid,” you say, almost afraid of this conversation. “And besides I already have enough books.”

“Sweetheart you can never have too many,” she insists and without looking opens it up to the first page where you see a little handwritten note. She closes it up before you can see what it says and slyly slots it in the middle of a stack. 

Later on when you feel sufficiently safe enough to look at it you nearly burst into tears.

In case you need help

feel free to call

(xxx-xxxx)

Such a small thing really, but it’s the most human connection you’ve had with anyone else but Him in a long time. 

You spend the next hour or two committing that string of numbers to memory before you proceed to rip out that page, shred it, and flush the remnants down the toilet. 

Even when you were burning the number into your brain, you never thought you would have ever had the guts to use it. Back when you thought you could accept what looked to be your fate. 

It would be unfair to say it was all bad, after all there was a reason you did fall for Him in the first place. When you would read mysteries and He would listen to you criticize the culprits' plans and schemes and he would look in awe at how you would’ve gotten away with it. Or how fun it was to sneak out with him, your family none the wiser. Even when things got bad and it felt like He was the only one that would talk to you for days, you cherished it because it truly felt like he was your life line. 

When things were good they were great, it was just when they were bad did you start to recognize them. 

Things were bad a lot towards the end. 

Gladys had been one of the few willing to go to bat for you, and perhaps the only one who He would listen to. She was the only one who could set him straight when he got huffy at the thought of you having some basic independence of being able to go outside and not needing to be watched like a child all the time. 

She was the one you went to with your suspicions and early symptoms, when you were too afraid to go to the doctor that reported right back to Him. 

She had also been the only one who knew your fears about having this baby. In your mind there were a total of two possibilities for the life the baby would live. One that they would live a life like yours, isolated within the walls of the house under their fathers obsessive gaze, never to experience the outside world. Or two He would hate the baby on principle and see it as just competition for your time and attention like he did with everybody else.

She did her best to try to quell your fears, trying to assert He would never do either of those things, especially, the last one. 

But you saw it in her eyes how she knows how sour He would get when he would come home to find you playing with his younger cousins. How He gets when someone new so much as looks your way a beat too long, or has the gall to get your attention.

How you’re barely allowed to talk to other girls your own age and that’s only saved for special occasions when his friends bring their girlfriends and He’s otherwise occupied. And even then He has a penchant for just removing you from them just to have you sit with him, and you’re out in the awkward position of being the odd one out in his group.

How when you did gather up the nerve to bring up the topic of babies to him one night his answer was “I ain’t ready to share ya’ darlin’, I don’t think I’ll eva be.”

But your most hard-hitting evidence was what happened to your dog, Hardy. He had been an old stray you saw skulking around the property, and whom you took in when He was touring. Hardy didn’t have much of an interest in running around or playing fetch, just sitting by your side and eating treats. 

Everything was good until He returned. You knew it was gonna be trouble the moment He walked through the door and saw you scratching the dog’s belly. Inspite of the fact that Hardy was usually tolerant of strangers, something about Him immediately put the usually placid dog on edge. You immediately got to work on trying to find some sort of compromise in regards to him, and offered everything from making Hardy a permanently outside dog to even being willing to have him be boarded with a family member while He was home. 

You had asked Gladys where Hardy was the very next morning when you couldn’t find him anywhere, only to be told that He had taken him out for a walk. You didn’t have the heart to be told a lie when He returned alone.

He started taking you with him at that point, and you hardly knew a moment's peace after that.

Your attention is not your own to freely give away, let alone your affection, He expects it all to go to him. He did lord knows what to a dog that had had the misfortune of occupying some of your time when he was there, you hardly wanted to chance the life of a baby that would need all of it. 

However in spite of all of that, you thought with her by your side you would be able to weather his reaction, whatever it may be. Even if your worst fear came to be and He didn’t really want anything to do with the baby, you could at least have someone to love the baby just as fiercely even when you were otherwise occupied by Him. It wasn’t necessarily fair, but you could somewhat see the function of it, and in spite of the weariness he’s instilled in you by that point, you were still reasonably confident in your ability to plan for the long term.

And then Gladys died.

And you were left to navigate the hardest thing you could face alone. 

“Ain’t nobody ever talks about how hard this can be. Or how easy it is to mess up,” Sue continues as she polishes off her plate. “But maybe…” she prods. “If you had a partner to help ease the load, you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

You groan at this point wanting to truly be done with this day already. “Not this again,” you bemoan. 

“Honey,” she says with a firm but comforting grip on your shoulder. “I know a thing or two about leaving bad things behind, but I do think sometimes you need to let someone else in to help you recover,” she says. And almost like they rehearsed it, Gina comes in with a mug of tea, and a kiss to Susan’s forehead as she demands she go back to bed to rest up.

You want to argue back that you did a good enough job of recovering by yourself, but that’s hardly fair to say considering how you were about as helpless as Rosie herself that first year and a half you were here. You had thought that you would’ve been out of here maybe a couple months after giving birth, and been in a completely new place with no ties whatsoever. But the reality is that there’s no possible way you or Rosie would have survived without the help they were so willing to give. 

And that’s all they’re trying to do now. 

You take a minute to fully gather yourself, as you realize you being upset won’t help Rosie in the slightest. You also pick up the slice of cake, as you don’t want her to think she’s being punished for being upset with you. 

You find her hiding underneath the blankets of the bed you share with her and you can only hear sniffling at this point. You try to approach this delicately, as this is new territory for the both of you, so you place the cake on the nightstand, crawl underneath the sheets with her, and allow for her to come to you. Luckily you don’t have to wait for long.

“Mama!” she cries as she buries her face in your bosom, her tears already soaking through the cotton material. “Mama, I didn’t mean it! Please don’t be mad! I’m sorry Mama! Please don’t leave.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay,” you reassure her, running your nails up and down her back, as it always did the trick of settling her down when she was a baby. “Mama’s not goin’ anywhere without you. I’m always gonna be with you.” You hardly put her down her first year of life, going against all the books and holding her at just about every possible moment, so you can hardly fathom where she got this idea in her head that you would leave if you got upset with her. But remembering what Jenny had told you earlier, you have the sneaking suspicion it is related to her noticing the lack of a father in her life. 

“I’m sorry mama! I’m sorry…” she repeats over and over again, and for each time you make sure to reassure her that nothing she could ever do would make you leave. 

Finally when she’s tired herself out and her eyes are red and raw do you finally speak. “Rosie, it’s okay to be mad, but it’s not okay to be mean, because you’re mad,” you say softly to her running your nails on her back, something that has always soothed her. 

She rubs her eyes and wipes her runny nose before looking up at you again, and gives a groggy “I understand Mama.” 

“Good,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now can you help me finish this cake.” 

You see her eyes widen before she eagerly grabs the fork and dives right in. With your help, it’s not long before it’s almost entirely gone and when she takes that final bite of the cake she goes wide-eyed sticking her fingers in her mouth to pick out the errant piece. “What’s this Mama?” she says holding the little porcelain baby up. 

“Oh you found it Rosie,” you say excitedly, “This means you’re going to have good luck.”

“... Like a wish?”

“Sort of,” you answer.

She gives an excited shriek before she clasps the little figurine in her hands and whispers something almost inaudible to it, with the only recognizable words being “Danny” and “Neverland.” You’re slightly disappointed that your lesson hadn’t quite landed today, but you choose to leave it for now, as you don’t see the harm in wishing to go to a non-existent magical place. 

Once teeth are brushed and pajamas are put on, Rosie settles into bed, but not before making sure you’re not about to break your long-held tradition of storytime. She’s the type of kid who when she likes one story she demands to hear it over and over again. 

And lately she’s latched onto Rapunzel. 

The whole concept does unsettle you greatly, for how close it is to your story. But whatever qualms you have with the story you’re not gonna deny your daughter, because your problems are your own cross to bear, not hers. 

As you read it you get to the part where the witch mother casts her out of the tower and she wanders the forests with her children. You wonder if Rapunzel ever found joy in those years away from the mother who isolated her, away from the prince who could have taken advantage of her. She survived not only on her own, but kept others alive as well. WHat did she do? Did she forage and hunt for her babies, did she find a village where she could work to support her family? 

Sometimes you wonder if she did truly live happily after the end of the story, or if she traded one cage for another as you did before. 

Your daughter is long asleep by the time you reach the happily ever after part of the story. She’s still in the habit of sucking her thumb at night, so you gently remove it, and put one of her favorite stuffies in her arms. And that marks the end of your daily duties, so in theory you should be able to finally fall asleep and be done with this day. 

In theory.

In actuality you creep out of the bed you share with your daughter into the single bathroom of the apartment. Usually her steady breathing tends to be enough to get you to fall asleep, it’s been that way ever since she was a baby, but you’re left feeling agitated having had to think of Him more than usual today. 

Not just because of the song on the radio, but Rosie’s outburst reminded you far too much of her father. It feels like the worst injustice that she mimics someone who isn’t even here.

Now that ain’t my fault now is it darlin’? A familiar voice whispers in your mind. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the thought of him, not to mention the way you shamefully feel yourself pool within your underwear. You slide down the bathroom door, out of sight of the mirror, as though that will prevent you from facing what you’re about to do. You even close your eyes for good measure as your hand reaches your folds and your fingers caress the slick outer lips of your pussy. 

You had tried to ignore this part of yourself for so long. You justified it during your pregnancy, as your body had been making you want to do other stupid things like sleep right in the middle of the store or eat paint chips. Even after giving birth and your inner feelings remaining unchanged, you justified it by thinking you were just particularly lonely, and for all that he kept you isolated, you were never alone when you were with him. Or that he was the only man you ever knew that way so he’s all you had to go off of in order to satisfy these urges.

For as much as your mind curses Him for ever coming into your life, even after all these years, your body has yet to catch up. 

You’re far from unique in your desire for him, but it’s especially shameful for you as you know what he’s truly like. It’s like scratching a mosquito bite, you may know that it’ll just make the itching worse, but dear god did it feel good in the moment. 

But even that is far from an accurate description as you plunge your on fingers into your sopping channel in a poor imitation of what you remember. 

You bite your lip in an effort to keep noises at bay but it just makes you concentrate on the wet squelching sounds echoing through the bathroom as you plunge your fingers into yourself. The sharp sting of pain forcing your mind back to where you experience the most of it. 

“You’re so sweet darlin’,” he purrs, his jaw glistening from your juices having just made a feast of you for the past hour or so. He had made it a game to see how close he could bring you without actually letting you cum, something he tends to do when someone looks your way for a little too long, as though he means to re-establish his claim over you. That only he can give you pleasure like this but take it away on a whim if he chooses. 

“No more…” you beg, new tears forming and following the trail previously set, your lips undoubtedly bruised from how much you have been chewing on them throughout. “Please,” your thighs aching from the death grip he has them in, undoubtedly leaving bruises for you to feel in the morning. 

“Alright,” he says seemingly conceding. But before you can breathe a sigh of relief, he continues, “we’ll switch it up for tonight.”

He flips you over to your front, spreads your legs wide open again, and dives right back in. 

You can’t help the way you’re left trembling from the memory, but what does shake you somewhat is the when you realize that it’s not simply the ghost of the memory that is making you feel that bruising pressure on your inner thigh, but in fact your own hand keeping it there. 

Still the masochist within you that yearns for the ghost of a man you once thought you knew takes a hold and refuses to let go now that you’re so close to release. So you give in and continue your frantic movements biting down hard on your lip to prevent any errant cries from leaving, and grip onto your thigh for dear life, even now trying to deny yourself that you want him here with you.

As you’re coming down from your high, you fight back your tears of shame. Trying to remind yourself why you left in the first place. How for all the moments he made you feel amazing, they weren’t worth the amount of grief he caused you on a near day-to-day basis.

Grief he’s still causing you more like it. 

You don’t think you could have written a better love story in the beginning. You met him when your eyes locked on each other from across your favorite bookstore back in Memphis. He had oh so shyly approached you and asked what you were reading, a bit starry eyed as he listened. Back then and arguably still the concept of a man listening to you was such a novel and unique thing to experience. 

It progressed from there, hand-holding in the school hallway, shared milkshakes at the local diner, and Sunday dinners with his family. Of course there were the less than wholesome aspects of your relationship of stray hands when no one was looking and heated kisses after a particularly rousing performance.

Truly the hallmarks of the greatest love story the world had ever seen. 

If only you knew how wrong a love story can go, because your story went very wrong. 

You vividly remember your first time with him.

Undoubtedly the cruelest thing he ever did to you.

You were never supposed to find out about the other girls, well that’s not true. The newspapers sure knew about them but he had convinced you that it was all nonsense and that he would never do that to you. All of his friends knew, hell even some of their girlfriends knew, but ideally you were never supposed to find out. 

But the only chink in the armor was that there was in fact someone who had wanted you out as soon as he stepped in. Fact of the matter is that he was practically giddy as he told you what your fiance had been doing on the road up until that point. You were heartbroken and humiliated as to what he did and even more so when you learned he had been gearing up to break up with you the night he proposed, but only stopped when he realized that you wouldn’t be waiting for him, once his career settled.

He had been calling your house non-stop and sending his friends over all with the mission to coax you into talking to him. Worse still he even got your own friends in on it and now you can’t have a single conversation with any of them that doesn’t turn into them telling you how sorry he feels for hurting you and how he desperately wants you back. 

The only people, aside from his manager, that were happy at this development were your parents. They had liked him up until he started to really take off in his career, and they wanted none of the controversy, especially when it came to your squeaky clean, good girl image they had for you. 

They’ve been walking around with the smuggest “I told you so” looks ever since you announced that you were done with him. If only they knew their good girl had been sneaking in her boyfriend for the past three years and had a whole routine for doing so.

But the downside to this is that He was just as aware of the routine as you were. And despite it having been awhile he evidently remembered enough as he stood outside your window, right after all the lights in your house had gone out. 

“Get outta here,” you hiss at him, opening the window just a crack. “You’re gonna wake up my parents.”

“Baby I gotta talk to you,” he pleads, his face utterly heartbroken. Guilt eats at you, knowing how there were days you wished you could go back to not knowing at all. But then you get angry at not only him but yourself for these thoughts. 

If only all of your love for him had died the moment you found out, you would’ve had the strength to shut the window on him that night, and your life probably would’ve taken a very different course. 

But no, you’re hurt and you felt that you had to have the final word. “Talk to one a your other girls,” you say as you move to close your window but he beats you to it and ends up opening it wider, allowing for him to fully step into your space. 

“Get out,” you say severely. “Get out, or I’ll scream.” 

“Darlin’, please listen,” he begs.

“Don’tchu ‘baby’ ‘darlin’ me,” you whisper-yell. 

“I swear things’ll be different this time round,” he pleads, clasping his hands in yours. 

“I’m done with your nonsense, I want you outta my house and outta my life.” tears are already streaming down your face and you make no motion to wipe them away. If he’s gonna hurt you like this he deserves to know. 

He looks at you. Truly looks at you and sees that you’re dead serious about this, that for you there is no coming back from this. 

“Okay,” he says solemnly, looking down at you more defeated than you’ve ever seen him, unfelled tears doting his eyes, and his bottom lip trembling. 

That takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it. “Good,” you say, trying to stamp down the urge to be mad that he’s not fighting harder. There is a hurricane of emotions going through your entire being, hating him and loving him at the same time, but you recognize that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to sort through said emotions while he’s here. 

“But…”

“But?” you say, confused as to what more there is to say. 

“Let me have you,” he begs breathlessly, stepping closer to you, boxing you into the wall behind you. “Just for tonight,” he clarifies as though that’s gonna make it better.

That offends you but you can’t afford to raise your voice so you hiss at him that it’s not as though you didn’t offer when he was here. “I ain’t ever gonna forgive myself for bein’ so stupid and steppin’ out on you, I-I thought I had more time, tha-that we’d got the rest of our lives together,” he says his voice painfully small, and his eyes pleading with you to agree. 

Your heart swells hearing his words, pleading with your brain to forgive him seeing how much pain the thought of never being with you again is causing the both of you. Another, unmentionable part is also hounding your brain to accept his offer if only for the fact that you had wanted this yourself for so long.

“If-If I do that…” you say in a low voice, your face burning as to what the both of you want but aren’t saying aloud. “Then you’ll leave and never come back?” though even as you say that you’re not exactly sure how you feel over that prospect.

“Just one night sweetheart,” he begs, giving you a quick desperate kiss to your lips. “One night to know what a life with you could’ve been like, and I’ll be outta yer hair forever,” he says with a quick peck to your lips. 

He makes it almost sound romantic, not like he’s quite literally backing you into a corner, and coaxing you into something you’re not sure you want just so that you would finally know peace from him. But that's far from your mind as that little bit of contact does something to you and it’s like opening the floodgates for all the feelings for him you’ve been trying to bury. 

It feels like you're transported to almost a year ago when, he would sneak his way back into your room after having said his goodbyes to your family and parking his car around the corner out of view. How you both move your blankets and pillows onto the floor to avoid the creaky springs of your mattress, how you both keep your voices low, and muffle most sounds with the pillows, how he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt before slowly undressing you, your body being treated like a present to unwrap. 

Like this it’s easy to forget what he did, easy to forget the pain he’s caused when he’s treating you so sweetly. Kissing every inch of skin, nipping at your sensitive skin every so often, before laving at the bruising area with his tongue. You bite down on your lip hard, willing yourself to keep a cap on the filthy moans and declarations of love alike. 

You had done things with him before but it had never felt quite like this. He had always been insistent that you wait until the wedding night for that, wanting to savor you and all you had to offer before the time came. Which made it feel all the worse when you did find out about those other girls. Your friends had tried to justify it by saying that he was just getting in some “practice” for you, but that hardly made it feel any better. 

But the way he touches you, so sure of his newfound skills, it’s almost easy to forgive him. He treats you almost deceptively sweet, and for as hard as you try to keep yourself quiet, you admittedly don’t do a great job at it. But you manage to keep a good enough lid on yourself. But as it goes on it feels like he himself forgets that he had to do the same, as moans and groans alike continue to escape from his mouth. 

That should’ve been your first clue that he was up to something, but by then as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, you can’t focus on much else. Had you been thinking straight you would remember he arguably has better control of himself than you do, as he often would tease you over it. 

But in the moment that’s not what you’re thinking about. All you had on your brain was him, and how good and right he felt.

If you could go back in time you think you would’ve strangled your younger, far more naive self, as now in retrospect it became clear what he was planning on doing. He had no qualms to exposing what you had done already with him if it meant merely getting a chance to talk to you, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to go full scorched earth if given the chance. 

He continues his steady rhythm, and when he whispers in your ear, “It’s only ever gonna be you, darlin’,” you find yourself letting out a silent scream. Your eyes screwed shut, so lost in the pleasure of it all, you would only get the tail-end of the disdainful look he would give upon failing to get you to crack. 

Still you vividly remember how conflicted you did feel in the moment, how for all that it felt good, it also made your stomach turn, for all the hurt he’s caused you yet how deceptively sweet he could be to you. It just gave you a serious case of whiplash. 

But you were so focused on keeping as quiet as possible not even being able to fathom the heap of trouble you would be in should your parents ever find out. You could hardly fathom the agent of your destruction laid within you, but it wasn’t until it was too late did it truly click. 

That devious look he had in his eyes, the one that spoke nothing but trouble. The very same look that seemingly first trapped you all those years ago when you caught it staring at you from across the bookstore. He picked up his rhythm, not allowing for you to fully recover, from the last time, as he pistons into you seeking out release for himself.

You were so dizzy in that moment you didn’t register how he raised his hand onto your night table, before quickly slamming it three times into the wall. 

The very wall you shared with your parents. 

Even in the moment you didn’t fully recognize what he had just done, everything sort of blurring together. Before you can even hope to get your bearings, he’s spinning the both of you around so that you now were on top of him, his fingers digging bruises into your hips, as he thrusts back up into you, no longer trying to feign tenderness, as he seems to rip another climax from you as he lets an unrestrained groan fall from his lips, while your inner walls tighten around him. 

Even in your haze, you realize that this is bad, and you manage to gather yourself enough to slap your hand over his mouth, but that does little to muffle the singer. Especially as it seems as though he's hellbent to be heard. “What did you just do?” you ask unbelieving, frozen in fear even as you hear the muffled shouts of your father through the wall. You feel underneath your palm as his mouth curls into a grin, as he shudders and you feel his hot seed burn you from within. And that’s when you hear the powerful footfalls of your father burst out of his room before he slams open your bedroom door. 

You can only imagine the image you make at that moment, naked sitting astride the nearly fully clothed boy you had sworn up and down for weeks you were done for good with. “What in the hell is going on in here!” your father shouts at the top of his lungs.

Everything after that happens in a blur of your fathers harsh shouts and the sharp sting that comes from your mothers hand across your face as she calls you a whore. By the time it’s all said and done you’re on your knees at the front door begging them to let you back into the house. 

“Take her with you,” your daddy practically spat at him as he tossed you to your knees outside of what was once your home. “I didn’t raise no whores, and you seem to now be in the business a collectin’ them.” 

You can almost hear the sound of a rattlesnake as his arm coils around your shoulder, laying his jacket over your weeping form like a gentleman. “Don’tchu worry baby,” he whispers in your ear. 

He’s almost angelic in his appearance, playing the savior role well, having escaped your home relatively unscathed and in remarkably high-spirits for the situation. But you don’t have much of a choice in the moment, remembering Gina’s words of how easily this family will toss aside wayward women, but it never truly sunk in that you were liable to become one. 

He would tell everybody that your daddy had thrown you out after asserting that you still wanted to be with Him in spite of all of that he’s done, and your folks practically disowned you for it. You let him say what he wants because you don’t see a point in telling the truth and if you’re being honest, part of you wants to believe it. It was a far more romantic story than what had actually happened. 

As you’re coming down from your second and somehow less satisfying orgasm, does the guilt start to creep in. Even after all these years you still yearn for his touch. 

But that is so much easier to admit than the alternative of missing Him.

It eats at you that you still think of Him like this after all that he did to you, and worse still it’s almost like you want him to come back.

Your heart practically leaps out your chest when you hear a soft knock at the door and for one horrifying second you think you’ve somehow summoned him to you. 

“Mama…” you hear a small voice whimper behind the locked door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Mama, I threw up.”

You don’t know if it’s a consolidation of three different people telling you the same thing in one day, the culmination of your late night loneliness for the past four or so years, or the noxious fumes of the truly unholy combination of stomach acid, red beans, and Jelly Beans that you had to clean up in your sleep deprived state, but you come to the conclusion that you can no longer do this by yourself. 

Being a mother tended to be enough of a deterrent to most men in the city, which didn’t bother you one bit, but it did make you feel all the worse when you did meet the few who were still willing even after learning about Rosie. 

Sam or Lou may very well have been as nice and understanding as they seemed to be, but because of Him, you now look suspiciously at every man trying to get close. 

Perhaps the women in your life were onto something and it is about time for you to move on with your life. Because if you resolve yourself to being for all intents and purposes a shut-in who never knew another man’s touch other than His, then you ran for nothing. 

So it’s with a semi-defeated sigh that you tell Jenny the next morning to send over Lee’s friend to the shop while you’re working to “see how it goes.” 

You do admittedly put a little more effort into your appearance than you would on an average day and you perk up every time a man who looked close to your age walked in. But if any of them were sent by Jenny they didn’t mention it. 

You only ever had one boyfriend when you were a teen, so it feels more than a bit intimidating to go into this, but you can’t deny yourself a life anymore. 

Afterall if you don’t then you may as well have stayed in Memphis. 

The day goes by and of the few men that do enter the shop, of the few that seem interested in you, none of them knew who Jenny was.  

It’s well past closing and feeling both tired and rejected, however the bane of your existence you call Jenny has yet to return, so you instead just flip the sign without properly locking up and hope they’ll be back soon. This isn’t necessarily unusual but you’re just eager for this day to end and hope that a nice cuddle with your daughter will be enough to lift your spirits. 

But for now there are books that need to be out back.

Soon you finally hear the shop bell ring, but instead of the comforting tiny footsteps or the recognizable clack of Jenny’s heels, you instead hear an unfamiliar pattern of heavy footsteps over the low volume of the radio. You look between the shelves from where you’re stocking books in the back and while you can’t make out specific details you see what is undoubtedly the shape of a man standing at the counter. 

“I’m sorry Sir,” you announce still from behind the shelf. “We’re closed for the evening, but please feel free to return tomorrow.” 

“Oh I ain’t going anywhere sweetheart,” a voice drawls.

A voice you would recognize anywhere.

You think you begin to understand at that moment why some animals will chew off their own arms to escape a trap. After all, what is a limb or two in the face of inevitable doom? And even when they do eventually die, they will at least go with their head held high knowing that they did all that they could, because better dead than captured.

But you stand there frozen, barely capable of breathing at a steady rate. You feel like every drop of blood has been drained from your body. Like someone reached into your lungs and snatched the air right out of them. Like your bones have lost all integrity and you’re only kept standing by the mere fact you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. 

He is here. 

Elvis is here.

Not only that but the footsteps getting louder tell you he is getting closer. 

Fuck.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour to try to get out of this, but all of them fall flat when you remember your daughter is not here and if you were to run that would just leave her in his clutches. So rather than act on any plan, you walk out from behind the bookshelf, because there is no point fighting the inevitable. 

You’re hoping your look isn’t so much deer in the headlights and more awestruck and in disbelief that he found you. Which is true to some extent as you thought you had been so careful all these years, so all you can muster out when you see him for the first time is a pathetic little “h-how?”

Your hackles raise slightly as you see him reach behind him, and to your surprise he pulls out an old battered copy of Nancy Drew. You’re so confused for a second until you recognize it as yours. 

One of the many that Gina would send you periodically when you lived with your parents.

One of the many that had the name of this very store stamped to the inner cover. 

One of the many you took with you when you were kicked out.

One of the many left behind at Graceland. 

Fuck.

You want to kick yourself both for being so careless in your haste to leave, but you have no time for that as he says, “I ain’t as smart as you baby, but I figured out your breadcrumbs eventually.”

He thinks you wanted him to find you. 

Didn’tchu though?

“E-Elvis…” you whisper, the single name somehow feeling wrong as it comes out of your mouth. You’ve avoided even thinking about it all these years, as though if you try hard enough you’ll be able to purge him from your mind and thus from your life. As though simply uttering it will somehow summon him. 

That theory isn’t disproven as he, as usual, wastes no time in getting straight to what he came here for, his long legs carrying himself to you as he moves to engulf you within his arms. You stave off the immediate instinct of putting your hands up and allow this to happen, remembering what used to happen when you would deny him. 

He even goes so far as to spin you around, and you lose your footing and have to rely on him in order to not face plant onto the floor. But this works all the better to create the image of the long-lost lovers joyfully reuniting after so long. 

But as he gazes into your eyes, it isn’t fully complete until he leans down to capture your lips. You would like to say you had to force yourself not to flinch away, but even you would know you’re not that good of a liar.

It’s a kiss for the ages truly, both all-consuming and yet leaving you longing for more. The pitfall of having denied getting close to anyone these past few years now show themselves full-force as you on instinct lean full-force into his touch, and welcome his kiss, even fully knowing how precarious your situation is.  

All these years you never could’ve imagined how much you could miss touch- how much you could miss his touch. The kiss itself isn’t even broken until he roughly moves you against the bookshelf and forces his thigh between yours and your left gasping for air as you feel him for the first time. 

And you can’t help the little whine that leaves your lips before you gather yourself once more to look him in the eyes. 

“Did’ya miss me sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips. 

“I…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ve thought about you every night.” 

This is not a lie.

His fond expression doesn’t crack an inch as you say that, but before you can sigh an internal breath of relief, you feel a tight grip on your wrist as well as on your jaw.

“Then where’ve you been all these years,” he says, low and dangerous. 

It’s certainly not an unfair question to ask. But you’ve been prepared to answer this question since the moment you stepped foot outside of Graceland for a quick errand.

You don’t know what he knows yet, and that’s terrifying.   

“I…I…” you say in a quiet voice, all your years of preparation failing you when you needed it the most. 

In the back of your mind, though you are loath to admit it, you think you always knew this day was coming, that he would find you, and the only thing you could do was to try to lessen the blowback you would experience. It’s why yours and your daughter’s last name is Love. It’s why you never tried to get involved with another man. It’s why you even made that goddamn deal in the first place. 

“I’m going to disappear,” you say, casually taking a sip of your tea, not truly a fan of the taste, but lately it’s been one of the few things your sensitive stomach could handle. “And you’re gonna help me do that.” You couldn’t just ask anyone for help on this, you were surrounded only by sychophants who would do practically anything for Elvis, so you had to look elsewhere to the person whose only side he was on, was his own. 

“And why would I help you?” The Colonel said, idly stirring his coffee, but obviously trying to mask the spark of interest in his eyes. For as much of a slimeball as he can be, you would be a fool to not acknowledge that he’s a decent enough businessman at the end of the day to recognize  a good deal when he sees one. 

“Because you want me gone as much as I wanna be gone,” you state. He hated that Elvis kept you around, even more so when Elvis made it clear he had no intention of staying a bachelor once he finished service. 

Truly under any other circumstance he would be the last person in this house you would confide in, but though your desires were very different they did often run parallel. Something you realized when he talked Elvis out of eloping right before he got shipped out and into a long engagement. Truly the greatest boon you’ve been given since you’ve gotten here, the lack of recognizability or association with the rockstar will serve your purposes all the better.

“Can’t argue with that logic girl,” he says, taking a bite out of the muffins you had baked this morning as a peace offering to him. “Why do you even need my help?” he questions.

“Because I need someone to make sure that he doesn’t ever find me,” you declare, you had practiced this in your head so many times, too afraid to ever voice it aloud or write it down should any of it get back to him. Even an Ocean away you still feel his breath on the back of your neck, with the only safe place being inside your head. 

You had excused yourself from following him to Germany by feigning sickness with the promise that you would join him as soon as you felt better. Which wasn’t hard to do considering your symptoms before he left, left you practically bedridden.

Ever since you figured out your… condition (it felt too scary to even think in your head, let alone voice out loud), your mind had been running rampant with all of the possibilities of how he would react. None of which you're willing to risk coming to fruition. 

“And if I said No?” he asks, but from the look in his eyes he’s all but ready to pack your bags himself. Part of you feels guilty to leave the boy you once loved with such a man, but you have bigger things to worry about now. 

“You’re absolutely free to say no, Parker,” you assure, but he’s savvy enough to know that’s not the end of it. You don’t know whether it’s you mimicking the late Gladys Presley, or something that comes natural with becoming a mother, however you do know you need to assert yourself now of all times, not just for your sake but your baby’s. “Regardless of your help or not, I’m gonna to leave. Now whether I’m gone for twenty minutes or twenty years, will all depend on you, but know that this will also determine how long you’ll be able to keep your position as Manager.” 

He seems to bristle at your words, “And how do you figure dat Lil’ Miss?” he says with a dangerous look in his eyes as you seem to threaten the only thing he happens to care about. But once you do explain it he looks at you with no small amount of respect in his eyes as he mulls over your plan. “Quite devious,” he comments, literally tipping his hat at you. “I think I’m beginnin’ to get what he sees in you.” 

You're far from proud of your plan, and the slimeball’s admiration of it doesn’t help either, but you know for a fact it will work, and Parker is gonna make damn sure that he doesn’t ever find you. 

You made that plan practically bulletproof, but you never factored into account that you would choke in the moment that it truly matters. “Elvis I…” you trail off, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, clutching your hands on his shirt to keep yourself somewhat steady, trembling from the effort it takes to maintain that makeshift barrier. You’re either about to give the performance of a lifetime or… or…

No 

You can’t think like that otherwise…

This has to work. 

Your brain is going a million miles a minute, trying to remind yourself that you have to make this work if you have any hope of getting out of this without him ever having a chance of finding her.

But in real time you watch as this notion turns to ash in your mouth. 

You feel as your blood freezes in your veins when you hear the door slam open only to be followed by the familiar little dashing footsteps. Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear your daughter stop dead in her tracks and you want to throw up at the thought of him laying eyes on her. This is truly what all your nightmares have been building up to, but even they paled in comparison to the reality of what would actually happen. 

“Danny!!!” she squeals at the top of her lungs, before sprinting right into the arms of the man you were so desperately running from. You’re too shocked to do anything about it at the moment, and only watch in horror as something beyond your worst nightmare plays out before your very eyes. 

Even when your instincts kick in to keep her away from him, he casually moves your hands out of the way as he easily scoops her up and over his head, practically playing keep away as you try to take her back. “Is today the day!?!?” she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could, giving him a kiss on the cheek, none the wiser at the danger the two of you were in.

“It sure is baby girl,” he says with a mile wide grin on his face. “Why don’tcha go pack everything you’re gonna need in Neverland?” You don’t miss the way his eyes slide your way, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction. 

She squeals in delight, as she jumps out of his arms and makes her way to the stairs, completely oblivious to your state. 

Everything your daughter ever said about “Danny” suddenly makes a whole lot more sense, and you can’t help but want to kick yourself for not paying attention. You thought she was safe with Jenny, you want to throw up at the thought that you unintentionally sent her into the lion's den without her.

She doesn’t even have the decency to face you in that moment, seeing her right outside the window, in Lee’s arms -or Charlie as you would later learn- pointedly not looking in. 

You don’t have the luxury of being mad as you feel his attention focus back on you in that moment. 

“Now…,” he says as he brings your face closer to his, tenderly grabbing your chin, wiping away a tear. “You wanna try again, sweetheart,” he grins maliciously, knowing you’ll have no choice but to be “honest.” 

And that’s it you have only one card left to play and you pray whatever forces that have written the story of your life will be merciful and let this plan work as you hoped it would all those years ago.

You fall to your knees and begin to sob uncontrollably into your palms. It’s actually easier than you had initially hoped, it in fact takes more effort not to cry when you think about him. It’s a miracle you’ve been able to stay this intelligible up to this point.

“Elvis,” you cry, trying to sound as pathetic and heartbroken as you possibly could. “Elvis I-I-I’m so sorry,” you stutter trying to really sell it. “He-he told me that you kn-knew and you didn’t want me anymore,” you hiccup for good measure. “Ho-how you couldn’t have a baby weighing you down, and that-that if I ever came back, he would make sure I would lose her for good.”

You start to hyperventilate, but it’s far from intentional, as you know your very life is at stake in this moment. If he doesn’t believe you… you can’t think like that. 

You know him well enough to know that he won’t believe your words specifically, but he does believe in the world he’s created in his head. That regardless of what you feel, what you say, or even what you do, you love him and want to be with him- always. It’s just others preventing that from happening. It was the women who tempted him on the road, and then it was your family speaking poison in your ear, and then it was the men he couldn’t trust to not look your way. It was never you personally, regardless of how he would sometimes lash out at you, you wanted to be there because he wanted you to be there. 

In the back of your mind when you had just barely begun to formulate leaving, you knew it would be foolish to believe there wasn’t a chance, no matter how slim, that he would find you. And you knew that it wouldn’t go without punishment should he ever find you should it ever occur. So you had to formulate a plan not just to leave, but how best to set yourself up if he ever returned. 

(There have been some nights that you lay awake believing that you prepared so well not because you were paranoid, but because it was an inevitability.)

You hear his clothes shift as he kneels down before you, and he takes your chin into his hand though much gentler this time. 

“Who’s ‘he’” he demands, voice as cold as a tomb. 

He’s buying it, you think, though you have no time to celebrate. You let out a truly pathetic little blubber through your tears, purposefully unintelligible trying to sell the emotions. 

“Who?” he asks, softer this time around, but no less urgent.

“The co-” you cut yourself off taking a deep steady breath. “The Colonel,” you whisper as though you fear speaking his name aloud will bring him to this very spot.

Parker’s far from innocent but you feel a slight twinge of guilt that his downfall would be for something he didn’t do as opposed to all the things he had done. But you can’t think like that anymore, it was gonna be either him or you. 

Someone would need to suffer because of what you did, and you would be damned before it was you or your daughter. 

And so Parker is now the villain who cruelly kept you and your daughter away from him, and not that you wanted so desperately to get away from him that you practically disappeared off the face of the Earth. But it seems like a fair trade. Parker loses his job, you lose your life. Maybe not in the literal sense, but in all the ways that matter you’ll be gone. 

You don’t relax at all when you feel him gently cup your face in his hands to softly wipe your tears away. You look upon the devastatingly handsome man, as he looks as if he means to take you in his arms to never let you go.“Don’tchu worry baby,” he says, wiping your tears away. “You don’t gotta worry bout that rat bastard no more.” You let out a small cry, hoping it sounds more out of relief than out of devastation to his words. “So now you and Rosie can come home,” he states with a delusional smile on his face. 

Despite the fact that you knew this would realistically end one of two ways, you can’t help but balk at the words. You try your best to smile at his words, but even you realize how hollow that gesture is, in spite of the part you know you’re meant to play in the moment, between the two of you, only one of you is an actor.

He’s having none of it as you feel the previously gentle hand cupping your face wrap around your throat. “Now. You. And. Rosie. Can. Come. Home.” he grits out, his grip around your neck tightening with each word emphasized. 

He knows what your answer is, no doubt he’s just trying to rub salt in the wound knowing that it’s not a choice he’s giving you. This is all the proof you need that he doesn’t fully believe you, but is willing to play along. Leaving may have been forgivable, staying away for so long is another matter entirely. 

He’s just punishing you for not being as enthusiastic as you should be at the prospect of coming “home,” as you should be.

You’re not playing pretend well enough.

“Mama!” Rosie squeals excitedly and when he lets go, you turn to see her making her way back downstairs, her favorite blanket now a makeshift rucksack of what you assume to be all toys dragging behind her. “Mama it worked!” she said, as she ran full tilt toward you, holding something in her palm. “Danny’s gonna take us to Neverland today.”

You see the little porcelain baby from the king cake and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else. But you know better than to believe in wishes.

“Can we go now?” she says, her little hand grasping one of Elvis’ fingers and shaking furiously. “Now please,” she begs, before he scoops her up into his arms and propping her on his hip. He holds her close and you're forced to face what you have been ignoring all these years. The shape of the nose, the way her lips curl in such a specific way, there is only one place she could have gotten all of that from. It feels like just your luck that your child would be practically a carbon copy of the man you so desperately tried to get away from. Really it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. 

“Now hold ya’ horses yittle,” chucking her under the chin in a far too familiar manner, as she giggles in his arms. “Yer mama’s gotta get ready herself.”

“I… do…” you say, playing along, trying to keep a cap on your distress for your daughter's sake. “I-I gotta pack a few more things baby,” you say, giving her a kiss on her forehead, hoping she misses the tears in your eyes. “I’ll b-be right back.” you manage to stutter out.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” his voice so saccharine sweet it makes our teeth ache. “We’ll be right here.” 

As you turn around you feel a hard smack on your ass, and you fully stop, burning in humiliation that he would treat you like that, especially in front of your daughter. 

The humiliation only further ramps up as you walk up the stairs, and you can feel the slick already gathering between your thighs. Less out of titillation you believe and more out of a defense mechanism, knowing what will more than likely happen the second he's able to get you alone.

Or is it?

It doesn’t feel real as you step into the upstairs apartment, you see Gina at the stove and Sue filling out a crossword puzzle, her glasses threatening to fall off her nose, none of which suggests they have any idea of what’s going on downstairs. You’re almost angry about that, like it would’ve been easier to walk away from them if they had also been in on it as well. 

“Where’s Rosie so eager to rush off to?” Sue asks idly, not looking up from the paper.

“Oh ummm…” you say, trying to think on your feet for a decent enough lie. “ Sh-she’s going to a sleepover with-with Jenny.” 

You’re usually a better liar than this, but him being so close again has you all out of sorts tonight. Not to mention your mind is running rampant with all the worst case scenarios possible at the moment with the most egregious being that he’s gonna take her and run, forcing you to chase him down the same way he’s undoubtedly done for you these past few years. You’re practically feeling every second tick by, fearing the longer you take the greater the chances will be that they’re both gone. 

Is that how he felt when he was away from you? A small voice in your head asks. It’s an awful roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if the person you loved most wasn’t where you left them. Would he be so cruel to do that to you?

“Did that fella Jenny setchu up with ever show up?” Gina asks, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Ye-yeah and… and I’m gonna get dinner with him,” you swallow, the lie tasting like bile in your mouth. As you turn to your room, already mentally mapping where the important documents were in your bedroom, preparing to pack a few outfits for Rosie, and whatever other odds and ends you would need. 

Your answer catches Gina off guard, and Sue immediately looks up from the paper sharing a look with your other Aunt. “Ain’t that a little fast, Hon?” 

“Maybe…” you say, hesitating as you try to hold back your tears. 

“Ya don’t gotta go if you ain’t ready for it,” Sue says behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, that you flinch away from. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong If it’s still a little too early for you.” 

That’s the worst part about it. You know they would fight tooth and nail for both you and Rosie if you just asked. But you know the type of mess Elvis can and will bring into this house should you decide to fight him on this. After all they’ve done for you, keeping them out of the type of spectacle he brings is the least you can do.

“I have to go,” you say sternly. 

One look at your squared back shoulders and your far away look they know there’s no stopping this. You hold back your tears as you accept their hug and accept their well wishes. You say your goodbyes promising to be back soon, unsure if you will ever see them again, and you put on your biggest fakest smile as you let go of them, wanting to at least leave them with one happy memory.

Relief floods your entire being seeing her at the bottom of the steps, only for the dread to return seeing him there with her. Especially when you hear the story he’s telling her. You don’t miss the glance he steals your way before focusing on your daughter once again. “I thought to myself, ‘thas the girl whose gonna be mine.’”

“Like-like love at first sight,” Rosie asks, and you can practically hear the stars in her eyes.

“Exactly yittle,” he drawls out. “Took her awhile to figure it out though but she learned eventually. Now we’re all gonna go home.” His eyes slide right off her and cut directly to you. Her eyes follow him and she quickly scurries off of him to reach you. 

“You ready Mama?” she asks you as she takes you by the hand leading you to the door where you see a car parked right out front.  It may as well have been a hearse in your mind. 

You pick her up and you look down the darkened streets and you briefly flirt with the idea of just sprinting and never looking back. But the hand on your elbow guiding you to the car puts a halt to those thoughts. 

You still don’t know how much of your story he does actually believe, so you sit yourself down in the car without so much as a fuss and resolve yourself to your fate. Though that doesn’t stop you from seating yourself in the middle and placing Rosie by the window, as you still aren’t totally out of the mindset of keeping her as far away from him as possible. Neither of them seem to mind as she eagerly presses tiny hands up to the glass in awe of the nightlife of New Orleans, while he slithers an arm over your shoulder bringing you closer to him. 

As you contemplate what your life will look like from now on, you pass by so many places you’ve become familiar with these last four years, but what nearly breaks you are the unfamiliar places. Record stores, movie theaters, restaurants, and so many other places you avoided all due to an irrational belief that he would somehow be there. You did your best to limit your time in the outside world to only when you absolutely had to be out. 

Maybe that’s why you were so willing to trust Jenny and her altruistic generosity to watch over your daughter and take her places you were too anxious to venture to. 

You caged yourself into your new seemingly better life, but you didn't live at all. You were hiding. Always so afraid that he would somehow find you, you neglected to live. You put yourself in a different cage and convinced yourself you were free. 

“Mama? Mama, why are you crying?” your sweet little girl asks. 

But you’re gonna do what you’ve always done for your daughter. What you’ve always done when it comes to Elvis. You’re going to play pretend. 

“Mama’s just so happy we’re going baby,” you say with a solemn kiss to her forehead as his grip further tightens on your shoulder. 

“I know what’ll cheer you up!” she declares and completely unaware of the salt she’s about to pour on your wounds, she pulls something out of her little rucksack. “Danny, do you know the story of ‘Punzel?”

“Can’t say that I do darlin’” he says, eyeing you over her head. She sets the Grimm fairy tale book down on her lap and opens it to the worn pages she’s seemed to memorize by heart. She proceeds to read to the both of you, in the sense that she recites the story she’s heard maybe half-a-million times before word-for-word, going off pictures more than the actual words on the page to know where she’s at in the story. You try your best to focus on the book for your daughter's sake, but it’s nearly impossible to do when you feel Elvis' familiar bruising grip on your inner thigh. 

You shoot him a look and grab a hold of his wandering hand, trying to signal for him to stop and pay attention to Rosie. He gives a mirthful smile to you as he feels the slick there and seemingly tightens his grip in retribution, as though he wants to get a head start on re-establishing his claim over you. You in response bite your cheek and bear it, until at one point it nearly becomes too much and one lone tear rolls down your cheek and onto the page of the prince wandering blindly through the forest.  

Your daughter is far too sweet for her own good, as she notices this and gives you a gentle pat on your cheek, trying to comfort you the same you’ve done for her before. 

“Don’t worry Mama,” she reassures you, mirroring what you’ve done for her when a story gets her a little too worked up. “They always live happy ever after.”

You give a shuddering sigh as Elvis finally let’s go of your thigh. You clutch onto that little porcelain figure in your pocket and hope she’s right.

You make it to Memphis in record time, Rosie having long since tired herself out, is wrapped securely in your arms, but you’ll find no suh peace with his arm coiled around your shoulder as he sadistically whispers how Rosie’ll have a blast meeting the rest of his family while the two of you get “reacquainted,” of course he used more colorful language but you don’t want to have to think about that for right now. 

When the familiar gates come into view 

“Ahh, my baby missed home that bad,” he whispers, giving a deceptively sweet kiss to your tear-stricken cheek. “Why don’tcha hand the ‘lil one over to me and you just head up to bed and get ready for me?”

Despite the questioning lilt in his tone you know for a fact he’s not asking. And so going against all of your instincts screaming in your head, you let go of your daughter and watch as he takes a hold of her. To your relief she’s at the very least on the same floor as you, but you can only hope that she, at the very least, will sleep through the rest of the night, because you doubt he’ll let you out even a minute sooner than he has to. 

The bedroom has changed in many ways since you’ve been gone, though the most striking thing  was how your side of the bed looks as though it were converted into a little shrine for you. Small baubles and trinkets you left behind on the stand, you even find an old nightgown of yours on your side of the bed, the last thing he ever saw you in. It doesn’t fit you like it used to, having and breastfeeding a baby will do that to you, but you put it on all the same knowing he will want to see you in it. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing your breasts straining against the silk material and the bruises peeking out beneath the scandalously short hemline, it really does settle in that this was all inevitable. This is the very same image you saw the night before he left for Germany.

The same image that confirmed your decision to leave in the first place. 

This moment, feels like the dread you always felt when getting to the last few pages of a book. As things were wrapping up and you would have to face the harsh reality of your situation...

You’re back in the fucking hotel room.

You won’t even have the luxury of daydreaming of your escape, because there is no world where you leave without Rosie, and he knows that. He knows she’s the reason you ran, and knows that without her you’re never gonna run again. That’s why he went to the lengths he did to endear himself to her first before you ever had an inkling as to what was going on. 

Your thoughts turn to Jenny, and how you entrusted what you loved the most to her, only to have her spit in your face by turning around practically handing her over to him on a platter. Either she knew that he was her father and didn’t bother to question why you were so desperate to get away that you faked a whole other life, or she didn’t and handed over your daughter to a stranger. You don’t know which is worse. 

You also can’t forget how she was perhaps the most vehement about you dating again, which you can’t even begin to understand if she was working for him the whole time. But you can’t put it above him that he wouldn’t have Jenny push the issue if only to further twist the knife if you ever did take up her offer. As though to remind you that you never had a chance of moving on. 

Because it always goes back to him.

You want to hide from it all and you give into the urge, and crawl under the silky sheets of the bed, for all the good it will do to protect you. 

Monsters don’t hide under your bed. They crawl into it. Those are your last conscious thoughts as you feel the bed shift 

“Welcome home Satnin,” he whispers before you feel the sheets being ripped away from you.

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #austin butler #yandere #yandere!elvis #yandere!austin!elvis #yandere x reader #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis movie #elvis presely smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin butler x reader

[hp-hcs]

Yandere Theo & Enzo x male muggle reader

Where they both go out one night to see what the outside of the wizarding world is like and bump into a muggle (the reader) who lets them stay at his house and shows them around, thinking they’re tourists.

But they fall madly in love with him and now when they have to go back to hogwarts they kidnap him and take him with them.

The reader is stuck in their room, a spell cast where he can’t leave and he’s freaking out.

+ can they be like super touchy with him and affectionate and possessive and he’s just thinking that it’s like a normal thing from “whatever country they’re from”

T h a n k s (:

OH i wish i had a tenth of the imagination y’all have i mean cmon y’all be out here bringing the most well thought out ideas and my fics are all just like “l i ght hu ose 👍🥰👍”

oh also i don’t speak italian so if i fucked up that’s why lmfao i took fucking latin in high school, not anything actually useful 🥲

requests open!

BIC — yandere! enzo berkshire x male! muggle! reader x yandere! theodore nott

warnings: kidnapping/abduction, infatuation (?), implied tobacco use

(also ik they wouldn’t be using US dollars but shhhh)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh, Merlin, my father is going to kill me-”

“Relax,” Theo rolled his eyes, a bit winded from Apparating. “Think of it as just a… fifteen minute excursion. Tops.”

“Right, tops,” Enzo mumbled anxiously, rubbing his freezing hands together as another gust of snow blew past.

As he stamped his feet in an attempt to get feeling back into his frigid lower limbs, Enzo looked through the windows of the damned store Theo just had to show him. (There’s this one boy there, Enz, and he’s just gorgeous. You gotta see him.)

Large posters dominated most of the windows, advertising things Enzo had never heard of before, like whatever a ‘Monster Java’ and ‘Geekvape’ was. Stacked outside the store was an entire shelving unit of something called ‘propane’.

Through the windows, Enz could see rows upon rows of candy, chips, snacks, sodas, all in obnoxiously saturated colored packaging. A buzzing neon sign that hurt to look at flashed the word OPEN in blue and red.

This store was awesome.

Lorenzo looked up at the half burnt-out sign above the door that proclaimed this magically wonderful place to be the shop of ‘Jacksons’.

A small bell chimed when Theo pulled open the door, startling Enzo. He followed his much more confident friend inside the store, looking around with wide eyes.

Theodore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“Okay, the guy I was telling you about? He’s kind of under the impression that I’m like, a tourist from out of the country, and that’s why we’re so unfamiliar with their wares. If he asks, we’re Italian exchange students and only speak shitty English, got it?”

Enzo nodded. As if on cue, a ‘Jacksons’ employee popped up out of seemingly nowhere, startling the fuck out of him.

“Hiya, Theodore!”

The employee—a boy around their age, maybe seventeen at the most—was unusually chipper for 10PM on a Sunday.

This must be the guy.

“Who’s your friend here, Theodore?” You asked, smiling.

“Hello, Y/N! This is Lorenzo.”

“Hello,” Enzo greeted softly, his cheeks flushed pink from the snowstorm outside (and that’s the only reason, Theo, stop laughing.)

“Can I help you boys find anything or’re y’all just looking around?”

Enzo couldn’t look away from you. How small you seemed in comparison to his awkwardly lanky height, the way the harsh fluorescents cast dramatic shadows of your eyelashes across your cheekbones, the light blush on the tips of your ears as you looked at Theodore.

Theodore.

He’d said your name. You’d said his name. You knew each other?

How often does he fucking come here? Enzo wondered, a sharp stab of jealousy running through him.

“Cigarettes,” Theo said immediately, exaggerating his usually undetectable accent to an honestly ridiculous amount. Enzo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his friend’s ridiculousness.

You just smiled and ducked behind the counter. “Same as last time, or’re you trying something new?”

“Same, please. And un accendino, please,” Theo made a clicking motion with his thumb, indicating a lighter.

You nod, easily pulling down a pack of Marlboro Red without a second thought.

How often does he come here? Enzo wondered for a second time. Enough that you know his favorite kind of cigarette.

“Cheap lighter or d’you wanna go fancy?”

“Cheap, please.”

“Alrighty, one BIC lighter coming up for ya,” you grabbed a lighter off the back wall behind the counter, setting it down by the cash register.

Enzo couldn’t help himself as he stared at the bright blue chunk of… what did Muggles call it again? Plastic.

“Bic?”

You glanced up at his timid voice, shooting him a grin that was just a bit friendlier than the classic customer-service smile. “BIC. It’s just the brand. They make cheap lighters and also pens, for some reason.”

Enzo wanted to ask what a ‘pen’ was, but he had a feeling that that was a terrible idea.

“$7.98. Cash, I assume?”

Theo, for the first time, genuinely faltered, cringing apologetically as he laid down the mess of all-identical green papers on the countertop.

You smiled patiently, plucking one paper out of the spread and pushing a few buttons on the cash register, then returning two papers and a handful of coins to a baffled Theo.

Fucking Muggles, with their impossible-to-memorize currency.

“Damn. It’s really coming down out there,” you shook your head as you peered out the front window of the store, waiting for the long white piece of paper to stop moving from the odd humming machine that sat next to the cash register. “Where’re y’all staying? I don’t think you guys should try to drive home in this.”

They follow your gaze, eyes widening when they see how high the snow has risen. The storm had gotten much, much worse.

“Hey- where is your car, anyway? The parking lot’s empty,” your eyebrows furrowed as you turned back to them with a quizzical face.

Enzo mentally panicked. He knew the word ‘car’—he probably heard it while only half-paying attention in Muggle Studies—but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what a ‘car’ was.

“We walked,” Theo said quickly, jumping in and taking hold of the conversation.

“You walked?” You asked, clearly horrified. “No, no. I can’t in good conscience let you two walk back in this. Haven’t you seen the weather? It’s supposed to be like, nearly a blizzard! Worst snowstorm of the decade!”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened.

Muggles could predict the weather? Holy Salazar, his parents might’ve been wrong about Muggles’ intelligence.

You misinterpreted the way his eyes widened. “Listen, this sounds crazy, but would you guys like, consider crashing at my apartment? Just for the night? Maybe the snow’ll clear up overnight.”

Theo opened his mouth to protest, no, really, we couldn’t take advantage of such hospitality, Y/N, but Lorenzo interrupted.

“We would much like that,” he said firmly. “If it is no problem for you.”

Staying at this hot guy’s apartment for the night? Duh, that’s an obvious yes.

“It’s no problem,” you wave off his concern. “‘sides, wouldn’t want a pair of pretty boys such as yourselves to freeze to death, now would I?”

Theo stiffened and blushed bright red at that, a dopey smile spreading across his face.

Oh Merlin, were you two flirting with each other? Enzo felt that sharp spark of jealousy flare up again in his chest, dampered only by the fact that it was Theo, and not anyone else.

“It’s just right across the street. Lemme close up shop for the night, and we can make a run for it,” you say with finality, ignore Theo’s weak protests.

They watched as you lock the cash register and counter with the practiced ease of someone who had done so many, many times.

You pulled the grate down over the cigarette shelves on the back wall, flicking off the overhead lights and tugging a tiny metal string that made the painfully bright OPEN sign go dark.

“Alright, let’s go,” you said, shooing them out onto the sidewalk, buttoning up your heavy winter coat, and locking the front door.

As you stuffed the keys back into your jeans pocket, Theodore rested his hand on the small of your back.

“Lead the way, bello,” he said with a charming grin. You nodded, smiling at the difference in cultures, wow! and motioning for them to follow you.

The boys followed you in a comfortable silence, shoulders hunched up as they braced themselves against the furiously icy wind.

You all crossed the street, Theodore and Enzo both baffled when a tiny light that looked like a person indicated it was safe to cross.

Your boots clanged on the shaky metal stairs up to the third floor of your apartment building, and your boys followed resolutely.

When they reached the landing, they were met by the image of your rather quaint front door, a tiny, clearly homemade wreath hanging on the center.

“This is it. Not much, I’m afraid,” you sighed, your freezing fingers fumbling with the key as you twisted it in the lock, opening the door for them. You flicked on the lights, illuminating the interior of the small apartment. “Do you guys want tea? Hot chocolate? Coffee, if y’all are psychopaths?”

“Perhaps it is a bit late for coffee,” Theo snickered at your dry humor as he stepped inside. “Tea, if it is not a hassle?”

“‘Course not. Make yourselves at home. My mother won’t be back for hours,” you chatted happily, setting a kettle of water on the stove to boil.

Theodore tentatively sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, looking around the small apartment in surprise. At your reassuring smile, Enzo sat down too, drumming his fingers against the table anxiously.

The kettle whistled after a few minutes, and you poured three mugs of tea, setting them on the table and settling down in one of the empty seats.

Theo reached for one, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours.

After that, it all goes blank.

~~~

Your eyes slowly cracked open, your head pounding and your stomach twisting and turning. You blinked away sleep, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you sat up in bed.

What happened last night?

You startled when your brain finally registers that you’re not in your apartment.

You sat up in a panic, looking around horrified when you don’t recognize your surroundings. The room itself was decorated with an honestly abhorrent amount of green and shiny silver. There were three other beds, identical to the one you were laying in, set up intermittently around the room.

A dorm? You wondered.

A huge window dominated the wall adjacent to the bed you were in, the view on the other side of it oddly distorted and warped.

You leaned in closer, confused, when a tiny yellow fish swam by.

You gasped, and put your hand on the glass to peer out even further.

Were you underwater?

Your amazement was interrupted by a large unidentifiable shadow filling the window. You frowned, your hand drawing back from the glass, when the shadowy shape moved, opening.

A giant fucking eye.

“Jesus fucking-”

You scrambled backwards, falling off of the bed with a yelp. While you fought with the blankets that seemed hell-bent on getting tangled around your legs, the giant eye slowly blinked before the shadowy form started moving again.

A giant squid, you thought with astonishment. There was a giant fucking squid outside of this dorm room’s window.

Finally wrenching yourself free of your blanket prison, you scrambled to your feet and sprinted towards the only door in the room. You jiggled the handle, cursing when it didn’t open.

There wasn’t even a lock, a keyhole, nothing.

How the hell was this door so firmly locked shut then?

Something tacked to the door- actually, there wasn’t a tack either. How was it stuck there?

But what caught your eye was a small scrap of… paper? Parchment? It looked like the paper your art teacher once showed you how to stain with tea.

Who the fuck still writes on parchment? You wondered, scrunching your eyebrows up in confusion as you examined the perfect swoops of calligraphy on the page.

Darling – We’re really sorry for taking you with us (please don’t hate us) and we'll be back here around noon Xoxo, Theo & Enzo (those actually are our real names we promise!!)

((we also might’ve made your mother forget about your existence so she doesn’t try to find you. you’re safe though, don’t worry!))

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

wow! people actually like my stuff enough that i now have a taglist??? (some of y’all weren’t showing up, so lmk if i need to troubleshoot 😭)

@gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #hp #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #male reader #theo nott #yandere theodore nott #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys

[lab1rynth]

YAN!PRETTYBOY

(100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL)

Yan!Prettyboy who you saw one day while scrolling through Tumblr, he had posted a Yandere x Reader that had honestly captivated you. You loved the character and you had wanted more content like that, so you clicked follow and binged all of his fics.

Yan!Prettyboy who you started interacting with more often, you became a regular! Talking to him through anon almost every single day when you could, just doing check ups and flirting with him here and there, sometimes sending in requests. You had gotten quite close to him, he was basically apart of your daily routine at this point.

Yan!Prettyboy who you dmed and talked to for a bit, before figuring out, wow you guys live nearby each other! He was a 30 minute drive away from where you lived, which had honestly excited you. You could probably stop by, if he'd allow you, of course.

Yan!Prettyboy who you met a few months later at his farm, he showed you around and let you see all of the animals, the sheep, chickens, horses, bunnies, cows. Hell, he even introduced you to his cats, which you could tell were honestly quite spoiled by the way they acted around him.

Yan!Prettyboy who was honestly a lot taller than you expected, you new he was 6'8 but you couldn't exactly comprehend it until you stood next to him. It was similar to his accent, you couldn't really comprehend how he'd sound until you heard him, his deep, yet loud voice mixed with his country accent making you blush every time he spoke to you.

Yan!Prettyboy who takes you out to dinner so you can eat before your car ride home, he made sure to pay for the dinner, despite your protests. He's the one who brought you there, after all!

Yan!Prettyboy who decides to give you his number before you leave, giving you a big hug before you enter your car and drive off. The next day you ask if you could visit again, why would he say no? You guys met up again and just went for a walk, the town center was nearby so you both just strolled along, talking to each other and looking at the different stores.

Yan!Prettyboy who you see almost everyday for the next few months, if not face-to-face, then over the phone. He tells you that you are one of the closest people to him now, that he honestly enjoys your company. You feel quite honored and tell him the same.

Yan!Prettyboy who after being bored all day, decides to try to find your social media's. With a little work, he found most of them, he would definitely use them to do stuff you enjoy with you! You post something about your favorite restaurant, he's taking you there. You post something about a hobby of yours, he's into the hobby too. You post something about someone else that you like, he's finding their social medias and sending them a few 'friendly' messages.

Yan!Prettyboy who shows up to your house one day with a basket of baked goods, fruits from his farm, and candies, handing them to you for you to eat. He told you that they were just a symbol of gratefulness towards you for being such a kind friend to him, you smile and accept the gift basket that he made you.

Yan!Prettyboy who starts writing about you, every time he writes a yandere story he keeps you in mind as the reader, he thinks of you as the person his characters would fall in love with, you're just so...perfect.

Yan!Prettyboy who decides to confess to you after a while, telling you how you're the only thing that's been on his mind, the only thing that matters to him. That surprised look on your face frightened him, and honestly his fingers were crossed, he hoped to the gods that you loved him back.

#x female reader #x fem!reader #x gn reader #male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #yourprettyboyswriting #x masc reader #x f reader #x female y/n #x m reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #yandere x you #x y/n #yandere writing

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Pretty admirer.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x chubby reader

Warning: Augst, Fluff, Stalking, Death Threats, Kidnapping, Bondage, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Daddy kink, Toji's kinda sadistic, Unconsent-photo taking, Masturbation, Yandere!reader, reader's a little creep, stalkerish gifts, Creampie, Slapping, Oral(Male), Degrading kink, Mean Toji, Baby-trapping, Fingering, Multiple orgasms, Face-fucking, Choking, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Rough sex.

Summary: Your love story with Toji Fushiguro was far from normal but you come to love it. By god, do you love it.

Dark, gloomy clouds blocked the Illuminating sun, It was like the weather felt what you were brewing inside. 'It's perfect' you glowered in your mind while you took a sip of the bitter coffee, watching as the sky reflected your mood. Your beloved ex and you were crazy for each other until he met his true love, You wanted to do something to her and you would have done so if he hadn't warned you of what would happen, and you knew better than to test him.

You rolled your eyes at the memory, Now you boredly watched people walk by the cafe window you sat in, the people looked just as boring as you felt. Until he strolled by, you would've missed him at first glance, simply because he was wearing such casual clothes if it wasn't for the flashy woman under his arm you'd completely miss him, through my. He was gorgeous, unbearable mesmerizing the clouds moved for the heavens to shine on him.

Ebony hair reached his ears and nearly covered his irises, they were green like the rainforest, and a scar on his right lip. it made him look ragged yet handsome, and certainly, his masculine body didn't help. His white shirt was two sizes down, every muscle of his was outlined and he wore simple blue jeans.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath shorted, it felt like you couldn't breathe, you needed him to live, he was your lifeline. he. was. yours.

You fumbled to get your stuff and rushed out of the cafe, Staying only a few feet behind you followed the couple to a modern, traditional Japanese-style house. The two entered the house, while you stayed back and wrote down the mysterious man's address in the notepad you carried around 'Fushiguro? So that's his last name.' you hummed, checking once again that nobody was watching you and no one was. Everything in you screamed to stay and learn more, watch him but it was daytime people would notice you snooping and you couldn't risk being caught. You left with one last glance at the Fushiguro household.

Day by day, you learned about your love, His full name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's in his early 40s, he has a son named Megumi, who's in college, his number and his hobbies consist of going to the gym your favorite, gambling, and your least favorite, fucking that homewrecker. There was still much more to learn, like his favorite things and what was his job, his work demanded most of his time. You overheard that Toji would be gone for a week on a business trip as he spoke to his employer in his favorite gambling place and you could finally put your plan in action.

You waited for him to leave, wishing him silently to be safe, and hurried to his door after the taxi he left in was out of sight, you took the copy key that you had printed out of the spare key he left under a rock, out of your bag and unlocked the door. You walked in and shut the door unworried that anyone would see you, it was six in the morning and still dark. You leaned on the closed door, a grin on your face, a warmth in your chest, and butterflies in your stomach, you felt like a kid in a candy store. You pushed off the door and walked around his home, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the small messes around the house .'This can't do. When I'm his wife, I will make sure it is clean around here-' your cheeks heated up, you needed to focus! inhaling you continued. You passed the rooms you were least interested in, and stopped once you stumbled upon the laundry room, it was surprisingly clean, some clothes were on the dryer, towels were on the washer door, and a bin of dirty clothes. You gripped the sliding door and bit your lip, should you? It's not like he'd notice, it was wrong to steal but- without giving any more debate you grabbed a tank top, its dark green with a strong scent of musk, a smell of comfort.

You put it in your bag and moved on. The upstairs, had a second bathroom, a bedroom that looked like would be his son's room, your heart beating fast as you walked down the mini hall, into a master room, his room greeted you. the bed inside was at least a queen, he had a flat-screen TV opposite from his bed. A dark oak dresser and strangely a few weapons lying against or on the dresser, a closet, and a bedside table that had a basic lamb. Overall it was basic and little of characteristics. You sat down your bag and lay on the bed, your eyes slowly closed, you could nearly imagine him beside you, his arm around your naked body after passionate lovemaking, imagine him pushing your rotund thighs to your chest as he humped your pussy, and his balls covered in your slick, smacking against your ass, you imagine-a ring- wait, a ring? Your eyes shoot up as the doorbell rings. You rushed downstairs with your bag "Toji!" a high-pitched voice shrieked, the homewrecker you scowled "TOJI?!" she banged on the door, what the hell is she doing? She is trying to make him look bad? Your eyes widened as you hid as she used the spare key "God he's a fucking jerk, he didn't even tell me he was gone." She huffed walking to the laundry room, unaware of you following her.

You glared at her backside as she bent down in his dirty clothes picking out some of her panties, each more scandalous than the last, she was so..so pretty, seemed just like his type, you wanted to hurt her, you placed a foot in the door, No! no..not here, soon. you reassured yourself, slipping into the other room as she moved to turn to leave the room and the house altogether. You left a minute later, you had some planning to do. Instead of basking in Toji's home, you had to stalk your love's little fuck buddy Mayu, she seemed to like partying, getting shit-faced drunk, and sleeping around, you couldn't believe it. Did Toji have feelings for her? She isn't remotely marriage material. Scoffing you watched her stumbled and trip into her apartment, 'pathetic' You rolled your eyes and put the black hoodie over your head and walked across the street, the door was left unlocked. you quietly walked to the kitchen you had mapped in your head the first time you broke in, the knife block was like a twinkle that shone on a gold bar in your eyes, but what to choose? A thud came from her bedroom, you grabbed a long, sharp jagged knife and sauntered to her room with purpose.

The door of her bedroom was opened a jar and she laid on the bed in a star pose, unaware of the danger she was in. You sneaked in, your stare trained on her akin to a predator, waiting for the right time to pounce on unfortunate prey, Her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. You straddled her waist, pointed the blade to her throat, and slapped your hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with terror shot open "Don't even try." you hissed as she struggled under you, pressing the knife to her neck, enough to scare her to stop. "Now listen. You're gonna stop seeing Toji, and I wouldn't tell him about me, or of course, you want that neck of yours slit." you smiled as she began to cry and frantically nodded. "And just to make sure that you listen." you cut her chest before she could react, ultimately making her cry more. You left her there sobbing, with a wicked grin on your face, and sick joy pumping in your veins. Despite her wild side, she was smart, and knew enough to know you'd do more than simply scare her if you visited her again.

The rest of the week flew by, he came home unexpectedly barely giving you time to hide in his double-door closet. Toji mumbled something you couldn't make out though you wouldn't find yourself caring as you watched with wide eyes, Toji threw off his black shirt on the floor then plopped down on the bed, and his fingers ran through his raven hair. Scars littered his build, big and small, it didn't if not only add to his beauty, but the simple action of moving his bangs heated your core, you wanted to pull on those locks as he took his pleasure from your body. you take your phone from your back pocket, turn off the volume, and flash, you begin taking photos, two, three, or four times. You almost whimpered as he took off his pants and left the room to what you think bathroom, you had to go before you outed yourself.

Even at night, his very being was stuck with you, turning and twisting to get comfortable was futile, sighing you stared at the wall, you itched to do something, show him he was loved, how? You shot up with a smile, love letters! Of course! You tear the blanket away and get out of your bed, you grab some paper and a pencil, turn on the lamp on your desk.

My beloved Toji.

You don't know me, but I know you, and I have come to love you. I fell for your snarky and coarse personality, you can't estimate the length that my love stretches. Nobody would love you like me. I'll show you exactly that.

I'll take care of those who fail to be everything you could want, you deserve the best, and I can be the best for you, only you. I'll spend every waking instant to prove that.

Yours Truly, your devoted admirer.

You hummed this would do for now. You kiss the paper, hoping the love you feel transfers. You folded it and began another. You sent these letters with a flower of different meanings, one with roses, another orchid, and another with Tuberose. Some letters with pictures taken of his beauty. The days you're able to break into his house, the flowers you send are in vases, and your letters are in the bedside drawer, videos of you using his pillow to rub your throbbing clit, yet..yet he continued to find quick fucks, the bitter, burning rage you felt was worse than you found out your ex cheated, the women were met with threats, some times more. He was yours and they won't forget that.

My dear Toji.

Why do you like hurting me so? You know of my feelings yet you keep fucking those unworthy women, you are mine. I should be the only thing you think about when you pleasure yourself. Think about how tight I would be, how the thickness of my body would feel against you.

I will rid those girls of you. You. Are. Mine.

Your devoted admirer.

You sent this with a dead flower, if you had to kill them, you would. You won't live in a world where he wasn't in your life, sure you didn't introduce yourself but you will, it will be so cute, that what you thought.

Toji was gone for another business trip, and you took it upon yourself to watch over his house, it seemed to be in a bigger dilemma than the last time you visited, but you didn't put too much thought into it. You beelined it to Toji's room, tiredness of the hardships of love, became unbaring. You wanted to smell him all around you, once your sight landed on his bed, you flopped on it and giggled as the bed bounced your soft, pudgy body. The comfortable scent of your beloved carried you to sleep, and dreams of him danced in your unconscious mind. When you came to, a few things made themselves known, the bed you laid on was now a swing of some kind, the ground was black marble, and a couple inches away, your ankles and arms were tied together in a thick rope. Looking up from the floor view, you realized that you were in a basement, not a normal one but a sex dungeon, and as naked as the day you were born. a bed with a pillory between the pillars of the bed frames, set a few feet ahead of you, and on the walls were paddles of different sizes, leather whips, and horse whips "Sleepin' beauty finally awoke?" a deep baritone voice mocked, pushing the swing just a tad to have you in motion. Your heart flattered and jumped up your throat, carnivorous butterflies ate at your stomach "Oh the possessive whore can't speak now? Y're fine telling me what I can and can't do in that little letter." it was him, this wasn't how you were supposed to meet! You had it all planned- you yelped, a sudden sharp sting was left on your ass cheek from Toji's hand "Speak." that one word spoke pure, unmoving authority "I-I'm sorry! I-" A smack cut you off "You're sorry? You're sorry? Nah but I'll make you sorry." he gave your ass one last hit before he walked in front of you. You only saw him from afar, never this close or bare..no pants, no underwear nor shirt blocked his sculptured body, his length stood proud, twitching to be touched and licked, and a small bead of pre-cum poured from the pinkish slit, his balls hang shapely, and heavily, a mass of dark hair surrounded the base. Your mouth watered "Like what you see?" Toji chuckled cruelly taking his shaft and giving a jerk "Y-yes. It's so beautiful." you admitted in a trance-like state "Then be a good girl and open wide." he grinned lazily poking your bottom lip with his tip. Your mouth dropped and he didn't waste any time to shove it in, your eyes rolled back and you gagged, it so hard, hot, and heavy, his hands held onto your hand as he humped his cock down your throat, the saltness of his pre-come dragging against your taste buds. Deep grunts and groans heaved out of his chest, his head thrown back and his cum-filed balls smacked your drool-covered chin while he used your mouth as a fleshlight. Drool escaped the sides of your lips and pornographic gagging sounds intertwined with his pleased noises.

He was close, his groans raised in volume and his fingers tightened a bit around your head "Fuck!fuck!fucccck!!" he growled as a thick load shot down your throat, almost causing you to choke. Once he pulled out a string of saliva and cum followed before snapping, landing on the floor. "Ya like that huh?" Toji chuckled looking into your lust-glazed eyes "Answer" "Loved it s'happy..Daddy" you muttered the last part, tasting out what the girls he fucked called him, this wasn't lost on him "Fuckin' whore." he hissed, his dick twitched, he's been called that for so long but the way rolled off your tongue made him want to ruin you, not just ruin you but destroy you for any man. He pulled your hair back and forced you to look him in the eyes "'m finna ruin you." his voice dropped a little lower, he let go of your hair and walked behind you. For a second nothing happened until a big finger forced itself way into your drenched core "So fuckin' wet, might just make ya my personal slut." toji groaned, his finger thrusted into your fat cunt, his other hand kneading the flesh of your ass. You whined and clenched at his words, "More..please Daddy!" you begged tearfully which rewarded you with a harsh smack and a second finger "Since ya asked so nicely." he said, tone akin to conceding, his fingers sped up and a curled right on that spot "yes" you cried, the sound of your squelching pussy brought heat to your cheeks at the filthy noise, a third finger joined the two and it seemed like Toji was holding up against you before because his fingers pounded your vagina. The knot inside became so tight that it snapped, and your juices gushed out, spilling all over Toji's digits and the smooth floor "So messy." Toji tsked, you looked over your shoulder and moaned as he slowly licked his hand clean of your slick, his big hand took hold of your hip while he guided his tip to breach your hot sex once the head entered you, his other hand took its place on your hip and he snapped his hips, forcing himself entirely inside you. "Ya want to be mine?" he groaned, slowly pulled out then slammed back, and set a ruthless pace "Yes, please I'll be a good girl f'you Daddy." you cried as Toji growled and pounded into your cunt, your breast bounced out the slit in the swing "I'll make yar dreams come true, make you my baby mama" he grunted, using the sex swing to reach deeper, his cock head bullying your cervix harder "'m gonna make ya my fuckin' slutty housewife, waitn' for me and clean after me." he hissed, your tight sex clenching at his words, "Please..please! I'll be the perfect wife and m-mama" you babbled, tears falling down your puffy cheeks, Toji's hips quickened, driving his cock into your sweet spot and cervix, his fingers came to rubbed at your clitoris. The overestimation was becoming too much and the knot was about to snap "I'm gonna cum Daddy!" you moaned "Cum." Toji ordered, feeling his own inching closer. Just as the words left Toji's lips, your juices coated his cock, and your walls pulsed uncontrollably, milking Toji's cum as he spilled into you.

You were in a state between unconscious and consciousness, you felt the ropes that tied your arms and ankles together cut free. You felt yourself being picked up and carried to a bed, "Toji?" you muttered as you felt a wet cloth clean your puffy pussy and a stern "Sleep." Was all you got in return. The offer was too tempting to pass up.

You fall asleep in the comfort of Toji's bed.

Toji groaned as he stretched his muscles in the door of his house, his stomach growled and the thought of food was appetizing, Toji set his weapon by the door, took off his shoes, and made his way to the kitchen. Toji felt a small smile come onto his face as soon as he saw your portly body cooking dinner with a baby sitting on your hip, a baby girl that had your skin tone with your eye color, his hair, and eye shape. "I'm home," Toji called out, smile growing more as you made a happy noise and rushed to hug him "Welcome home my love!" you greeted with a smile "We missed you," you said as you handed over his daughter who immediately started to play with his bangs "Dinner will be ready in a minute. Sit." you smiles and kissed his cheek before going back to cooking. Toji sighed contently and sat down in the dining with his daughter, since he had let you live with him and eventually made you his wife, the cold and lonely house was now lively with love, laughter, and pitter-patter of feet.

Toji groaned as he rolled off you after showing how much he missed you and pulled you into him, your head on his pectoral "My love." you spoke up a few seconds of silence, drawing shapes on his other spec "Hmm?" Toji simply hummed as he rubbed his thumb on your love handle "How long did you know I was following you?" you asked, Toji had long ago told you off his occupation, being a hitman. It was a part of his job to beware of his surroundings "Since the beginn'." he answered honestly, you looked up in shock "Why didn't you do something sooner?" And why didn't you kill me? You wondered, "You were intriguing," He smirked "Nobody, no woman had tried that before besides..with a body like that how could not let you have your fun?" he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his scar "It's time for bed, we have so much to do tomorrow..." you laid your head back on his chest before mumbling "I love you." and like that sleep had taken hold of you. Toji kissed your head and whispered "I love ya too." he fell asleep soon after with you in his embrace.

Taglist: @18lkpeters , @ablondehoe.

A/n: Hey guys, sorry it took so long to upload. I hope you guys liked this like I did writing it. The reason I posted this instead of Guilty Love Three is because the poll I posted ended in a tie so I picked this story. I am still working on Guilty Love it will be out soon. If you'd like to be tagged for more of my toji fanfics you can ask here or in my ask and I will immediately add you to the list.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji x chubby reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fanfic #yandere reader

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Okay i lied , im not cutting off yandere sources cause i need Yves to cope with the high stress.

So here's some Yves content at the supermarket

Yves pays close attention to how and where your eyes linger at. Especially at grocery or other retail stores where there are a wide variety of objects. He notes down what catches your attention first, next and last, what caused you to do a double take and for how long. What colour, what texture, what shape and etcetera etcetera. He keeps count and remembers the sequences too.

It's fascinating, your habits change depending on the lighting, temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, smell and loudness of the area. Even the feeling of the flooring beneath your shoes would affect the duration you're willing to look at a product.

Yves would pretend to check the nutritional information of an item that claims to be "healthy" and "organic". But in actuality, he's watching you; do not underestimate his peripheral vision, it's almost as if he has eyes on the back of his head.

He would get a small rush of excitement whenever he predicts your next move successfully, shock and slightly more delightful when he's wrong; because that means he has discovered something new about you and must document his findings immediately.

How strange, you're exhibiting signs of under stimulation despite the fact that supermarkets usually fulfill your sensory needs, most of the time, overloading you. So Yves peruses the aisles even more, letting his heels clack against the tiled floors, pushing the shopping cart slowly and observing if the extra disturbances around you will do anything to your predicament.

But no, you're still uncomfortable. How interesting, how can Yves help you? He's dying to know, but he must run multiple tests discretely to find out.

However, before he could proceed, you walked up to him and stared at Yves in the eyes.

He replaced the can of diced tomatoes back onto the metal shelf before peering down at you. Yves intentionally chose to wear one of his taller heels to create that subconscious "guardian" role, making him ridiculously tall.

"Yes, dear?" He asked, bringing his fingers to your hair, gently brushing them away from your face. This seems to improve your mood, it made his heart skip a beat when he realized that you were craving for his touch.

You told him that it's nothing, you just wanted to see him.

Now that's not true, you wanted more but you're too shy and nervous to outright ask for it.

Yves smiled, softly coaxing you closer to his side, which made you automatically cling onto him and bury your head in his torso. Yves stroked your back rhythmically up and down.

While he lets you recharge in the side hug, Yves uses a free hand to inspect more canned items, he also likes guessing what additives might be added into each product and how much of each nutrient does it contain.

It's impressive how his brain works like a supercomputer with trillions of servers, his eyes, nose, ears, skin and tongue work as the world's best sensors. Yves is actively gathering the smallest, most detailed information about you, the environment, himself and whatever he has on hand. All that, without a struggle, without any clashes in thoughts or confusion in data. All that without overwhelming himself, not at all. He's in fact, very relaxed.

You let go of him when you had enough, but it seems you're not willing to fully part from his form yet as you're holding onto his large, smooth and manicured hand.

He walks to the next section of the aisle, pushing the trolley along with him and enveloping your smaller hand in his. He noticed that you've lost interest in looking around as canned goods bore you and you would very much rather look through shelves of candy and other junk foods. Where the companies work their predatory marketing tactics on unsuspecting customers like you.

If you wanted to, you would have left him alone to entertain yourself by now. But you're still stuck next to him as he reads the next list of ingredients.

He doesn't need to hide a delighted smile from you, as you're pushing your face against his lowest rib. Yves can express his glee at your very sweet and considerate gesture to accompany him despite your boredom.

He wanted to see how long you would last before he loses your consideration. That's why, Yves kept going through each can with you inching along next to him. Surprisingly, you're durable. But you're not exhibiting signs of weariness anymore, but instead, you're simply content and comfortable.

Strange. The buzzing, blinding lights above you and him, the monotony of the labels, the droning and other bustling noises would have driven you out of this aisle five minutes ago, let alone allow you to express... Happiness for being present. This isn't usual, Yves knows. He has observed you more times than you can count in this exact setting. Everything is more or less the same: the luminescence, the air quality and the decibels that your ears are picking up.

Except, the only variable that changed was him. His presence.

He gently called out your name, which prompted you to look up at him.

Yves pecked you on the lips, leaving a faint stain of his lipstick on your kisser.

"I love you." He whispered, biting onto his tongue immediately because he wanted to say much more. So much more. But he couldn't, it would be horrific for you to learn what he sees without your knowledge.

You stared at him, confused. Of course, you returned his words of affection. What baffled you was this glimmer in his breathtakingly beautiful, smiling eyes that would only appear if you did something extravagantly sweet and loving for Yves without expecting anything in return.

Like giving him a meaningful gift that you toiled for, trying your best to serenade him with an original piece of romantic music, going above and beyond to please or pamper him... What did you do?

Yves lets out a soft laugh as he watches you struggle to contain your excitement at the prospect of receiving that reward later at home. He can feel your tremors as you hold onto his hand.

Well, whatever it is, it surely earned you a very big reward. You're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you gracefully accepted the silent message from Yves.

But for now, he must buy the groceries needed for the week, and all the ingredients to make your favourite dish of all time.

He pushed the cart to the next aisle, bringing you along with him.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[compact-turtle]

Can we get some fun facts on Orion? He's such an interesting character to read about the way you write is immaculate

Of course!! Don’t know if these are fun facts lol but here’s a little bit about Orion, the yandere space explorer…

-was not meant to land on your planet. An unexpected asteroid through him off collision to his original destination. 

-weak baby with noodle arms (at least in your eyes).

- master manipulator and gaslighter. 

-likes when you accidentally hurt him (scratches him, playfully bites too hard, etc…) because it means you give him more attention. He’ll play it up saying he’s gonna die from it because humans are so weak compare to you. 

“I didn’t know I could be in this much pain. I’m afraid I’ll die from this injury. Could you hold my hand and sing me a song so I feel a bit better?” 

-a bit emotionally dumb and hasn’t realized his feelings for you. Just knows he doesn’t want to share you or your world with anyone else. 

-has two different journals. One dedicated strictly to you. Another for whatever else he deems important. 

-can do bare minimum cooking. Uhhh safer for you to do it though. 

-but amazing at cleaning and organizing your house :) 

-He says you go foraging “together” but it’s just you babysitting. You have to make sure he isn’t eaten by a creature while he’s scribbling notes in his journal. Has happened multiple times ( ；´Д｀)

-is the epitome of the kid who touches stuff at the store when their parents (you) tell them not to. 

-got offered the mission because the original explorer died. He was the only one who volunteered. The team was on a tight schedule from their superiors and had no other choice but him.(Otherwise they wouldn’t have let someone with no survival skills go) 

-complains a lot.You’ll take him on trips and he’ll complain about his his feet hurt. Ends with you carrying him. Thankfully he feels as light a feather to you so it’s not a big deal. 

-adores when you play with his hair. He enjoys the feeling of you running your fingers through it or when you braid it. 

-will die if he doesn’t receive at least one instance of physical contact . Could just be snuggling together in bed or you carrying him through the woods. 

-loves doing culture exchanges with you. He’ll tell you stories about his people and you’ll sing songs from your culture. 

-hates when you feed him vegetables. Would rather starve 

-on the other hand. Loves sweet things and has the biggest sweet tooth. 

-has become spoiled because of you. You adore your new friend so you often bring him presents. 

-tried to adopt a dangerous creature until you told him to put it back in the wild :( 

-enjoys that he doesn’t have to pay for things. Back on his planet, his salary was pretty low since he was only a junior researcher. Didn’t help that he lived in the capital where everything was expensive. 

-his diet consisted of energy drinks, caffeine, ramen noodles and candy back on his home planet

-can do a backflip if you ask (only cool trick he knows)

#male yandere #tw yandere #yandere drabble #yandere alien #male yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #Yandere space explorer #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc imagine #yandere oc #male yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere thoughts

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Platonic Yandere dad Dabi has consumed my heart tbh. Especially when it’s just the little domestic moments.

Him giving Toddler Reader a bath, him teaching them how to walk. Dabi just showing up to the LOV bar with little you strapped to his chest.

(Shigaraki and Hawks being a certified DILF fuckers now-)

I’m especially in love with the idea of Dabi and the LOV robbing a store and you just casually picking out stuff that you want. It’s weird considering that the LOV, this terrible villain group, is letting toddler you put plushies and candy into a cart. Dabi casually squaring up with one villain who was being a bit of a jackass.

Things only get complicated when the Todoroki family finds out that they have a grandchild now.

(I know it’s never gonna happen but let me have my delusional thoughts-)

#platonic yandere #yandere mha #yandere dabi #child reader

[invidiia]

Can i request yan!Ranpo with an oblivious darling? Like he could look them dead in the eye and say "i like you" and they'd be like omg i like you too bestie :DD (sorry if this has been requested before-)

꒰ yandere ranpo edogawa ꒱

꒰ and an oblivious reader ! ꒱

notes ; OOHNO NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, IT'S A FAIRLY NEW BLOG SO NO ONE HAS REQUESTED IT YET! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!

warnings ; TOXICITY BABYY, stalking, mentions of murder, manipulation, kidnapping in the end, not sure what this is called but he's just making the reader out to be some dummy who needs him to survive !! he's mean and a little delusional but aren't we all, he's such a red flag and that's really hot

⋆ he's so nice and mean to you at the same time

⋆ he has written you countless letters confessing his love to you. he's made it the most obvious it could get! and you still don't get it! everyone in the agency knows it too, everybody sees the way he looks at you, pats your head when you do something right, even buys you some candy of your own! he's never done that for anybody else in his whole life! and you still think you're JUST his best friend!

⋆ hell, he even confessed to you, giving you pretty little flowers, a box of chocolates, anything you could give to someone you love. he told you he loved you straight to your face!

⋆ and all he got was, "i love you too! you're the best friend i could ever have!" he even slightly looks down on you because of this. you are SUCH an idiot! but he still loves you, of course.

⋆ and the JEALOUSYYY THE JEALOUSY

⋆ every single time he confesses and you tell him you appreciate your friendship, it feels like a deep papercut on his hand. it's so unbearably painful! he's asked you about your love life and what you look for in someone, asked you about your favorite things, conveniently picking them up at the store, showing up late to work just to give them to you. but it's not like he gave them to you secretly, no. he wants you to KNOW he wants you

⋆ and he definitely just conveniently walked closely behind you while you went into stores and bought your favorite foods, and the next day, he's taking you out the a nice restaurant with the best of your favorite food in the whole city!

⋆ sometimes, he just does your work for you, pulling back your rolly chair and snatching your paper, finishing it in about 3 minutes max while you swing your feet around and wait. afterwards, he complained about how easy it was to finish that paper, rambling about how if it wasn't for him, you would only have about five papers done. by now, it was a little obvious he views you as some idiot- of course, some idiot that he loves

⋆ he then waves you off and gives you the last marshmallow in his bag, asking for you to go pick up some more candies and something for yourself, pushing some money in your hand that should probably be enough to cover it.

⋆ for the record, he didn't count the money.

⋆ oh, but if you eventually get the message that he likes you romantically, and decide you don't feel the same way, then he could always just, you know, kidnap you and keep you at his place until you feel the same!

#ranpo x reader #yandere ranpo #yandere ranpo edogawa #yandere ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #bsd x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader #klya..requests

[mochinomnoms]

What would PTM Jade do if MC kept giving him deeply useless trinkets? Things like those candy bracelets that taste like chalk, plastic dollar store wind-up toys, and singular unused, fresh from the box tissues?

The silly answer is that he keeps them on a semi-shrine thing that he's dedicated to them on his shelf.

I'm joking, he doesn't have a shrine. I didn't write him yandere enough for that.

But he does keep them alongside his terrariums, in fact, each time he gets a new trinket from them, he puts them next to his latest terrarium. Kinda a way to track when he gets each one.

#mochi asks #archetypal-archivist #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #jade leech x reader #ptm #He's great a remembering important dates like their anniversary #then he'll use the terrarium assigned to a trinket as an anniversary gift the next year

[yandere-kokeshi]

What kind of princess treatment would Yan! 42! Miles Morales would give to his darling?

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: I'm sorry this is short. I rushed this, I was anxious to get this out and it might've be what you want. Hope you enjoy regardless!

To be honest, mostly anything you can think of. While he's not the most affectionate, he does try.

Instead of physical touch or words, he does spoil you with gifts and acts of service; often doing things to make you feel more comfortable or listened to.

While he doesn’t spoil you to the point where you believe that you can get whatever you want from him. But, he’s the type of guy to let you get a few things from the grocery store when you’re there for a reason.

Of course, he will spoil you with things you love. Stealing Buying you rare figurines from that TV show you love, getting you an entire book collection that you’ve been eyeing on Amazon for a long time, and getting your favorite takeout dinner after he comes home late.

You'll feel listened to. He pays attention to the slightest details in the conversations; concentrating on parts that may be important later.

One minute, you're talking about how you're craving candy, and the next day, a bag full of sugary treats and a soda is delivered to your bed; a sticky note of, 'got ya' these. Make sure to not eat too fast.'

He's more than willing to steal buy you all types of makeup, bedding, and anything you ask for. Miles just ask in return for your kisses and loving jokes.

—

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© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#kokeshi!! #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere headcanons #anonymous asks #anonymous #anon ask #kokeshi anons #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x willing reader #yandere across the spiderverse #yandere 42 miles morales #yandere 42 miles x reader #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #the icons are not mine #they belong to their rightful owners #all queued up