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cyborg-franky · 11 months

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Can you do a yandere marco where he finds out the female he kidnapped nests for comfort and his male bird instincts kick in of gathering things for her nest and bringing her food and gifts to convince her that he’s the perfect mate for her please

I don't write female reader. I hope you still enjoy this though!

Marco x GN Reader SFW YANDERE THEMES

You missed your island, your home, your life.

You’d heard the Whitebeard Pirates were kind people, they protected places, your home included.

But you had no idea you’d have caught the eye of the commander of the first division, nor did you think you’d have ended up in this room, far away from everything and everyone you’d known and loved.

He’d said something about what if we stopped protecting your island? And you’d taken it very much the threat it had been intended and had gone with Marco without a second thought.

You hated your situation but you had a feeling you’d have been snatched by the zoan regardless of your answer and at least this way you wouldn’t feel the guilt of being the reason your home and friends would have been doomed.

The boat swayed in the storm brewing out on the sea, only a little, enough to lull you into feeling sleepy. The first time you’d truly let exhaustion overcome you and sleep fill you.

You grabbed up all the blankets you could find, making a comfy nest on the bed, just wanting to bundle up and be warm, seeking desperately the comfort the softness around could provide.

Grasping at anything to help you feel less terrified.

You were fluffing up pillows when the door opened and you glanced over your shoulder fearfully, seeing the tall blond and that growing lazy smile into a lop-sided smirk as his piercing blue eyes focused on what you were doing. He clicked his tongue and tilted his head to one side.

“Making a nest little bird?” He asked and stepped closer, shutting and locking the door behind him before he looked at the set up.

“Not a nest,” You mumbled and gripped the sheet, feeling instantly uneasy in the presence of the zoan. Who tutted before letting out a light-hearted chuckle, like he hadn’t forced you here against your will.

His birdbrain was running a mile a minute, this was his mate and he needed to provide for them.

He started to move around the room, going for a large chest in the corner and pulling out even more blankets, getting on the bed with you he started to arrange them.

You watched with wide eyes as he trilled under his breath, happy to be helping make a nest for him and his mate. You flinched when he turned to look at you again, eyes half-lided as he encroached on your personal space, pinning you against the headboard.

“This will be perfect yoi.” He hummed and leaned down, whispering into your ear about what a pretty little mate you were for him. You felt his hot breath on your ear and you felt a tremble overtake your body, feeling his hand under your chin.

Marco pulled away, tilting your chin up and looking down his nose at your terrified expression, the grin spreading across his face, a feral look on his face. “Mine.”

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ventique18 · 9 months

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~ And I will always find my way back to you. ~

- Warning: this is horror. -

My dad is a kind man.

"Forgive me, my boy. I can only do so much to make it up to you..." He says; exhaustion evident on his solemn face.

"It's alright, dad," I reply while fiddling with the locket fixed around my neck. It's an enchanted device I use to talk to my father, and it's my only connection left with him as he's been away for a long time, "I know how busy you are. Honestly, mom's still upset about you. She tries to be strong around everyone, but sometimes I hear her crying your name in her sleep..."

"She does... She does..." Dad comments. His voice is heavy, clearly missing us-- missing her dearly. I know exactly how much he loves her.

"Please," he continues, "do not tell her about our conversation. I do not wish for her to suffer more than she already has. And... I will try to wrap up my business here as soon as I can. I promise I will return to you. I promise we will live together again. As a family."

I smile a hopeful one. What I wouldn't give to have that. I'd be lying if I said I didn't dream of it everyday: of waking up to a dad reading the morning newspaper, of a mom asking me if I want coffee or orange juice. Of my dad teasing my mom about how cute she looks today too, and my mom bumping him playfully as she sits beside him. Of two parents in love, and a child laughing along with them. Just like a regular family.

"So, wait for a while longer, my son."

I nod, and he nods back satisfied.

"But for now, is there anything you'd like me to get you, as your father?"

---

My package from dad arrives. I can't keep my composure as I receive it from the deliveryman. This catches my mom's attention and she walks over to me with a grin on her face.

"What's this? Did you buy stone figurines again behind my back?"

"No, it's..."

"... Honey, what is that? A new phone..? How would you even have the money to get this..?"

I glance at her with a huge smile on my face. Is she thinking I stole money for it? Ha ha, she'd be even more shocked to know where it came from.

"I didn't do anything illegal for it! It's from dad!"

"Dad--"

Suddenly, her knees buckle and she sinks to the floor. She clutches her mouth and I hear a choked sob. "Dad..? That dad? That man?"

Uh-oh. Did I screw up? Shouldn't I have said that? I know she misses him, but I didn't think it was this bad.

"Why..! Why..!"

Why?

"Why did you tell him our address?!"

Why--

I kneel beside her to help her up. But she pushes me away and claws at the floor; sobs growing louder, louder, until she begins shouting and pulling at her hair and digging at her skin and--

Knock. Knock.

And then silence.

Knock, knock, knock.

"... Malleus--"

My mom's horrified voice.

"Beloved... I've finally found you."

And the familiar voice of my kind dad.

#i wanted to write a bit of horror lol #yandere warning #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia

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yaksha-lover · 2 months

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cw: yandere diasomnia x reader, vampire au, horror-esque, blood drinking, captivity, reader is not having a good time and none of them care, minor gore, darker than my usual stuff, so please read at your own discretion!!!

It’s always, always cold in the house.

No matter how many blankets you try to crawl under, the chill never seems to leave you, lurking just to the point of discomfort.

You’ve asked Malleus about it before (he tries to pretend, at least, that he cares about what you want), but he’d only insisted that vampires need the temperature to remain colder. The fact that he’d cooed the words, having you slotted against his chest for warmth, makes it hard to believe him.

Regardless of the truth, the rest of the household would never dare disagree with him.

Sebek is particularly vehement about his distaste for you. Or he had been, until Lilia insisted he have a taste of your blood. Before, he’d pester you, on and on, about your ungratefulness. Like you should be thankful to be forced to stay and be their little human blood bag. He’d turn up his nose at you, insisting that he didn’t know why the others, especially Malleus, took an interest in someone as pathetic as you.

After he’d tasted you, Sebek no longer complained about your lack of specialness. How could he, when he seemed so fixated on getting more of your blood? He still grumbled that you didn’t appreciate Malleus, but any real exasperation was gone. Why argue with you, when he could be sinking his teeth in instead? For how much he insisted he didn’t care for you, Sebek was perhaps even needier than Malleus. He always insisted on sharing a kiss before he took your blood; said he was ‘traditional,’ like that.

Silver was, by far, the kindest, and that only made things worse. It was hard to hate him, with how he took care of you, cleaning you up after a particularly relentless day of having your blood taken. He seemed to be the only one aware that humans had needs, thus he was the one to prepare all your meals and rub salve into the bite marks and bruises that littered your body.

He would also be the one to ask the others to give you time to recover, to let your body heal in between bites. They, of course, listened to Silver, despite the fact that you’d been saying the same thing for weeks before. It didn’t matter; if push came to shove, he would do what his family asked, regardless of what it meant for you.

Perhaps he didn’t partake in the same hedonistic activities as them, but he wasn’t any less complicit in keeping you trapped in the house. You suspected he took a certain kind of pleasure in caring for you, which made it a little less than the noble act you had once believed it to be.

Lilia was, perhaps, the worst of all.

Malleus was driven by his loneliness, Sebek by his desperation, and Silver by his need to care for something small and pitiful. Although they rarely squabbled, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say they didn’t particularly enjoy sharing you with each other.

Sometimes, Silver would keep you tucked away in his own bedroom, at the insistence that you needed time to rest from the vampiric attention of Malleus and Sebek.

Malleus, himself, often dismissed Silver and Sebek with an offhanded remark about needing ‘alone time’ with you; they never argued as he’d steal you away to spend hours in his own private chambers.

Sebek, although he denied it, quite enjoyed the days where everyone else had business to attend to and he was left behind to ‘care’ for you; it was nice to be able to keep you tucked away in his arms after he was done having his fill of your blood, instead of having you be taken away at Silver’s insistent need to nurse you back to health. It surprised you, the first time, when Sebek himself had returned with treats and supplies to clean your wound. He put on such an act of disregard when everyone else was around, but he took care of you if Silver wasn’t there.

You had to walk on a tightrope of sorts with Malleus, in order to avoid upsetting him, but he was also pitiable in a way. You understood what he wanted from you. The same could be said for Sebek and Silver. Though you still hated them for it, you did understand them in a way. They were driven by their feelings; of love, of affection, and of loneliness.

You’d been the first human they got to stay, even if it wasn’t by choice.

Lilia ensured that. He wasn’t driven by his feelings, at least not toward you. No, he pushed you into the younger vampires’ arms, like a sacrificial lamb of sorts. He knew what it meant, what they were doing to you. For him, you guessed, it was worth anything, including your freedom, to see them happy.

For Malleus, drinking your blood meant sharing a close act of intimacy in whatever relationship he thought you shared.

For Sebek, drinking your blood meant satiating a temptation, in both senses, which endlessly gnawed at him; like a wolf who finally catches a rabbit.

The only time Lilia ever bit you was in punishment.

He was much more in control of himself than even a mature vampire like Malleus; blood lust never overtook him, even when you knew he hadn’t drank in a few days.

His interest in you seemed purely adjacent to those of his kin; you were simply a means to an end for him, rather than any sort of person worth considering for your own sake. In a way, it was nice to have one person in the house who wasn’t strangely obsessed with clinging to you or taking your blood incessantly.

It wasn’t so nice when you angered him.

Lilia was normally so carefree that the first time you’d seen his stare go cold - when you tried to run away - it rooted you in place. At least when you frustrated Malleus with your lack of reciprocity, his affection for you stopped him from ever truly harming you.

Lilia had no such objections. When he was finally done toying with you, letting you think you had a chance at escaping, he’d pinned you down in the forest outside the house and bit you for the first time.

The pain of it made you realize just how gentle Malleus and Sebek truly were with you. It seared and ached, like your skin was being ripped apart and a venom was decaying your flesh from the inside. Your limbs were sore beneath Lilia’s body pinning you down, and every shift against you was like tweaking a raw nerve.

The pain had gotten too much and at some point, you’d passed out, only to awaken back at the house.

Lilia had only grinned at you, insisting you keep your little discretion between you and him.

You wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, after all.

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samanthachanyandereandyandereaus · 2 years

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I do not support real life yanderes

This behavior is unhealthy

This is just fiction

#yandere warning

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gojo-mochi · 5 months

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MDNI! Dark Themes. Dubcon/Yandere/Kidnapping/Drugging? (it catnip)

HybridKitty!Reader who was a stray but a happy stray roaming around the streets, catching fish from the river, and lazing around in the sun. But, suddenly, they get adopted (kidnap) by this strange man. He takes you in his house, forces a collar on you, telling you that it was much safer in his house than the outside world. You try to tell him that you been surviving just fine without him, that the outside was your home and you liked your freedom. He just coos at you and tries to ruffle your hair, treating you like a child.

You hiss and claw at his hand and while he winces back he doesn't hurt you back. Just looks at you sadly and tries again in a couple of hours. The days passes like this for a while, he leaves food outside of the small closet you took up space in. Feeling that it was safer in there, then the room and bed he made for you, you wouldn't eat it for a while at first. But the smell got too tantalizing, the stranger would handcook meals for you and they always smell so good.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your skittish shell, hanging around the kitchen watching him cook once, but promptly leaving once he tried to pet you once again. However, after you finished your meal today, he asked you if you wanted dessert. This was the first time you heard this so you were curious enough to stay out of your hiding place to see what he had to offer.

He brings out a small bottle, sprinkling some leafy stuff on the palm of his hand and stretching it out to you. Telling you to take a sniff of it. The smell was nothing you ever smelt before, it was addicting to say the least. Even more once you actually got closer to his hand, though when your own hand stretch out to grab some of it, he pulled back, closing his palm into a fist and sealing away the treat.

Your ears flatten back on your head and a needy whine emerge from your throat, wondering why he would deny you the dessert if he was offering it in the first place. He waggles a finger at you, softly smiling, his eyes darken over just a bit. "If you want this treat, you gotta eat it from my hand, ok?" He reach out, palms open once more.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't, all your heighten senses was telling you this was a bad idea but your sense of smell was overriding everything. The treat smelt too good to be left alone so you venture forward. Tentatively inching closer and closer, leaning your face down to take a good whiff of the treat and your mind was gone at that point.

Your rough textured tongue lap out at the treat, heavy purrs emits from your throat. As you kept on licking the treat out of the stranger's hand, not even noticing or caring that he was practically drooling at the sight, his thighs shaking a little, and his hand hovering over your head. Your small hands grabbed on to his wrist, pulling him closer as you try to get every single bit of the leafy treat, your tongue caressing the skin of this palm now.

He lets out a low moan at the feeling, putting his hand down on your head and finally touchy your cute fluffy ears, fingers rubbing the softness of it, making you purr out even more. You saw drunk people before back when you were a stray and you imagined this is what they must had felt like. On cloud nine and when the treat on his hand was emptied by your lips. The man stood up, hands traveling down your back and waist as he tells you that he'll give you more if you come sit on his lap and lick it off of him again.

How you could resist after just one taste? So, of course, you agreed, leaving behind the shelter of the closet and going into the bedroom. As the door clicks behind you, the last sense in your brain gave out a final warning to run. Too bad, because now the man was also addicted. Addicted to the feeling of your tongue on him and he wasn't about to let you go so easily.

After all, a good kitten gotta work for her treat~

#yandere x reader #softy spice #dark content warning #yandere konig #konig x reader #ghost x reader #zoro x reader #i love a soft zoro ok #gojo x reader #geto x reader #OMG geto would be so maniplative hnggg #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy write #just my thoughts #sanji x reader #this could totally be a yan sanjin too

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yaekiss · 1 month

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since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs.

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching.

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps.

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?”

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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krislgfox · 5 months

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I'm cringe but I'm free

Did someone already made yandere DogDay? No? Well, I guess I'll be first :D

! Warning blood !

Well...I guess we can call it SleepyDay angst? Or not? I'm very bad at understanding this ":_]

(I rarely draw blood, so I tried my best to make it normal, sorry if it looks bad ¡v¡)

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theyanderespecialist · 3 months

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(Remake) Base Yandere Valentino Headcanons (Part 1) (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter and this one is a remake of Valentino and a warning there will be toxic traits!]

(Disclaimer: VALENTINO IS NOT A GOOD PERSON!!! HE IS A TERRIBLE PERSON AND AN ABUSER!!! It is fine to simp for him IN FICTION!!!! But DO NOT SAY HE IS A GOOD PERSON OR JUSTIFY WHAT HE DOES!!!

Disclaimer 2: Valentino is not yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life, he is also a horrible person in canon! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!)

-Remade Base Yandere Headcanons With Valentino Part 1-

.Valentino is the worst, very much terrible, the most disgusting man there is!

.Though he can be very charming.

.He is someone that a lot of people could hate fuck.

.He is obsessed with you, he claims to love you, but his love is more of an ownership and control.

.He would very much see you as his property.

.He is possessive, controlling, and demanding.

.He will use the pheromones in his salvia that he has to drug you into being a good darling.

.He is going to manipulate you into being his.

.He does not care if you want him or not, you are his and he owns you.

.That is all he sees it as. That you are the love of his life, at least to him you are.

.He would use other drugs to make you obey.

.Keeping you dependent on them so that you stay in line.

.He will use physical punishments to keep you in line.

.He would not hit you like he did Angel Dust, more so he would grab you by the arm or hair.

.Dragging you to his and your room.

.Where he will punish you by using his salvia to put you in the mood and fuck the obedience into you.

.Or spank you if he must.

.He is not going to be abusive in the way of hitting you and being overall violent persay, but he will be rough with you if he needs to.

.He is going to gaslight, manipulate, and blackmail you into being his.

.If he can have his way he is going to get your soul in a marriage contract.

.He will also most likely share you with Vox.

.But there is the sort of Air Quotes around "good" side of him.

.He is very much like an abusive husband in some sense.

.Where he goes in the cycle of abusive but then loving.

.He loves to spoil you cause he buys you all the things you could want and you know he will hold them over your head.

.In his mind if he makes you feel loved with all the items he gets you then you cannot complain about not being allowed out of his tower.

.You cannot complain about him anything.

.He would also guilt you with it, How dare you ask to leave the tower when he does all this stuff for you?

. do you not know how lucky you are to be with him?

.How much money and time did he put into you? You should be grateful.

.Though there are moments where he can be soft with you, you always are on edge cause one wrong can make him in the mood for sex or can make him pissed off.

.Having Valentino as a yandere if you do not have the power to stand up against him, is walking on eggshells.

[This is just part one we will get more onto him later! I hope that you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere valentino #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere headcanons #headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #valentino x reader #reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #twigger warning

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cyborg-franky · 1 year

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Hi Franky! I have this idea that’s been bouncing around my head for like a week now and i realized that since i absolutely love your characterizations of the OP characters, especially the WBP, i wanted to ask if you could pretty please do headcanons, or whatever you prefer, on Marco and Ace both being yandere’s in a poly relationship with reader, if that makes sense??

or if you prefer i would be okay with just your opinion on how you think that would work out because i love how you write the OP guys and i just would like your point of view. Thank you in advance if you choose to respond!! ❤️❤️

I can't believe I didn't see this one sooner, this is my jam, I am shaking the bars of my cage. Also thank you so much for the compliments <3<3 I try my best, I try and put my all in the way I write, even the chars I don't like very much <3

I hope you like!

What is scary about Marco and Ace as a team is how different they are.

Ace is overprotective, clingy, needy, and very jealous [with anyone who isn’t you or Marco and even then there are moments he’ll bristle and have an attitude]

Ace also doesn’t see the problems in his behavior.

This is backed up by Marco who knows exactly what’s going on even if Ace can’t see how he’s acting is bad. Marco will gaslight you into feeling bad questioning Ace’s actions.

You’ll go to Marco in confidence and talk to him about your problems with how jealous and needy Ace is, how you feel a little smothered and he’s handsy. Marco will just smile, pull you closer and explain that you are just overreacting.

Ace doesn’t see his issues, Marco does but Marco will excuse them. Marco is always telling you that Ace can’t help it and it just means he loves you both so much.

Marco knows what he’s doing is wrong but doesn’t care. He’ll make you and Ace so reliant on him.

He’ll make you feel so at ease, always whispering in your ear, and he’ll praise you both, He knows your weak points and how to get to them with vicious precision. He can make or break you with a single comment.

Marco will make you and Ace so reliant on his affection, his kind words, always seeking his approval,

He’s so smart and manipulative that balancing two people is easy for him. He knows exactly how much to play you against one another so he gets the most out of every situation.

Ace doesn’t notice, of course, he doesn’t, so starved for attention and desperate to hear praise and to know he’s loved.

Between how tightly Ace is clutching on to everything you give and Marco knowing to make you give up everything for him.

It’s a sticky situation.

Marco is too good, too practiced at covering up any mess that no one doubts the three of you are happy and all in love.

Ace normally approaches the person he likes and Marco decides if it’s the right fit. If Marco likes you he uses Ace as an icebreaker, since Ace is so easy to love and is blunt about his feelings.

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jessamine-rose · 10 months

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꒰ The Spider and the Fly ꒱

This is for my hormones every artist/ writer who dragged me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom. Your content is absolutely amazing, and I hope this piece can measure up to the brainrot you’ve given me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, kidnapping, manipulation, blood, violence, self-deprecation, mention of suicide, bondage, noncon, nsfw, MDNI

Note:: Female reader, double POV, ATSV spoilers, Best Wingman Award goes to LYLA

♡ 7.6k words under the cut ♡

i. spiral orb web

You’ve always been attracted to pretty things, and that includes spiderwebs.

In your eyes, the spider’s craft is the closest thing to art in your everyday life. It is a natural phenomenon marked by intricacy and utility, yet one so easily overlooked due to its associations with pest behavior.

Fortunately, public reception has shifted since the emergence of Spider-Man. It is thanks to your “Friendly Neighborhood Hero” that the spiderweb has been rebranded as a symbol of safety. Be it a weapon or a life-sized shelter, there is a certain beauty to those human creations.

Though the same cannot be said for Miguel O’Hara’s.

Spider-Man 2099’s webs belong to their own category. His are scarlet, bright as lasers, conspicuous and dangerous in equal amounts. When Miguel traps a villain in his webs, one is reminded that a spiderweb is the tool of a predator.

Miguel’s webs are not the only thing which set him apart from the other Spider-Men. He has more inhuman powers—claws, fangs, paralytic venom. His jaded personality and intimidating stature are also far removed from the public image which inspires hope in civilians.

Perhaps that is why you find him all the more alluring. Or it could be simply because he is the one who saved your life.

He’s done more than rescue you. After catching you midfall, Miguel regards you with shock and…pity, you think. It is the only logical explanation as to why he is being so gentle with you when your dimension’s stability is a greater concern.

It also explains why he allows you to follow him into the departing portal. No, follow is a self-preserving term. More like burst into tears, ran after him, then told him your pathetic life story and how anywhere is better than here.

Much to the surprise of his coworkers, he relents.

꒰♡꒱

At first, Miguel thinks you are an Anomaly.

It is one thing to find you in another dimension. It has happened before, and he always avoided your Variants for their sake. But you are inescapable.

Among every version of you, the happiest one was his Variant’s wife. Then there’s you, the one whose life would’ve ended if not for his interference.

He tries to justify his decision. Your departure doesn’t affect the Canon, so no harm will come to your universe. And judging by your personal data, you would be much safer in a different dimension.

His dimension, to be specific. Where he can keep a close eye on you.

He is also logical enough to recognize you as your own person. You aren’t his wife, and his observations support that theory. Your hairstyle is different. You code-switch more often. You sleep and wake up at earlier hours. You’re not as confident in your abilities.

You are alike and unlike her in so many ways, yet he still sees a spark of his sun in you.

ii. funnel web

Since then, you’ve resided in Nueva York.

In return for permanent residency, you are hired as a secretary for the Spider Society. It’s civilian work, nothing dangerous, but more purposeful than what you’d ever achieved in your old job.

Strangely enough, you encounter Miguel quite often.

At first, it feels totally warranted. He is the only person you know in Earth-928, so he guides you through every step of your adjustment. He gives you a Dimensional Travel Watch, shows you around the facility, and instructs you on how not to mess up the multiverse.

After your first week, he invites you to move in with him. Miguel claims that his home already has an extra bedroom, though LYLA’s remarks suggest otherwise. Regardless, you accept since it means a familiar roommate and better living quarters.

How thoughtful of him.

꒰♡꒱

“It’s easier to look after her if we’re under the same roof,” he rationalizes.

“Sure,” says LYLA. She flickers above his shoulder and watches the holographic screens with him. “And it’s not because she reminds you of a certain someone?”

Ignoring her, Miguel switches to a different camera angle. Peter B. Parker walks past your desk and does a double take, and he is promptly summoned for a meeting.

No doubt, there will be questions about you.

“What about the redesigns?” LYLA pulls up a screen showing two bedroom layouts, one collapsed and the other abandoned. “Should we pick one? Merge them? Think of a new design? Or we can ask for her input, seeing how she clearly has better taste than you.”

One of the monitors catches their attention, announcing an Anomaly in Earth-131222.

“We can talk about this later.” With that, Miguel opens a new screen and analyzes the data. On second thought, he adds, “She prefers thin bed sheets.”

Later that day, he escorts you home. Your mood has greatly improved since your change in environment, though you’re still quiet around him. LYLA compliments your coat, a purple remnant of her closet which Miguel lent to you, but he ignores her knowing glances.

You wear it differently, he notices. It’s the same article of clothing, but fully buttoned with a silver brooch on one lapel. The effect is significantly less casual.

“So, this is it.” Your expression turns hesitant as Miguel unlocks the front door. “Are you really sure that I can stay here?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” he points out.

And it means less time monitoring the CCTVs.

“And you haven’t seen your room yet!” adds LYLA. “We know you’ll love it.”

“I guess it would be impolite to back out now.” You follow him inside and remove your coat. “I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

He pauses.

That green dress…he could swear that he’s seen it on you before. Many shades lighter, paired with a bright smile, to match the T-shirt of the little girl by your—

“Miguel?” You frown at him, then your gaze flits to your dress. “Is there something wrong with my outfit? I didn’t commit a serious fashion crime in your dimension, did I?”

“It’s nothing,” he says quickly. But upon noticing your lingering anxiety, he admits, “You look good in it. That’s all.”

You nearly drop your coat. “W-What? Are you serious?”

Miguel could swear that you look more shocked than during your first meeting. If he were to come close enough to touch your face, it would surely feel warmer than average.

That’s enough.

“I meant what I said,” he replies, walking ahead. “Do you want to look around or are you just going to stand there?”

That snaps you out of your fluster. You follow him into the living room, a small smile making its way to your face. “The living room is pretty. Was it you or LYLA who designed it?”

The change of topic is a godsend. As Miguel shows you around, you recover from his comment and focus on your surroundings. LYLA is the next to admire your dress, winking at Miguel as she asks about the color, and he takes note of your reaction.

More vulnerable to flattery, regardless of speaker. Extremely happy afterwards.

His wife wasn’t like that. Usually, she’d be the one teasing Miguel with praises, pick-up lines, and inside jokes which he pretended to understand.

Still, it’s nostalgic to sit next to you on the sofa. He could get used to this again.

iii. lace web

In the following months, you fully adjust to your new life.

Your job in the Spider Society is manageable, fun even. Aside from the Spider-Man of your dimension, your close coworkers are kind enough to welcome you into their group. They look out for you, include you in their conversations, and appreciate your hard work.

They even indulge your aesthetic interests! One word from you, and they are already comparing webs. Among the various designs and techniques, however, none have fascinated you as much as Miguel’s.

…You do wish he’d let you roam Nueva York more often.

In case of Canon events, you need to get his permission first. Then you have to wait for him or an assigned Spider-Man to accompany you, and the latter is always a stranger whom you find difficult to bond with. Conversations with LYLA can only do so much.

You’ve recommended your coworkers before, but Miguel doubts their reliability. And every time you invite them to go with you, a new mission cancels your plans. If not for the official records, you’d suspect them of making excuses.

It’s a bit frustrating, honestly, but you know better than to complain.

You should already be satisfied with Miguel. He is an agreeable roommate, he trusts your capabilities, and he acknowledges your efforts. And no matter how closed-off or overworked he is, he's still deemed you worthy of his company.

…He is also very nice to look at. Muscular physique, handsome face, a serious gaze occasionally tinted in red. It’s a shame that he rarely smiles.

In another dimension, a better version of you would have definitely pursued him.

꒰♡꒱

“...and get this, he can shoot webs with stabilimenta. The designs are so detailed!”

“Oh, wow.” Miguel barely looks up from the monitors, grimacing at yet another Anomaly. He quickly sends an alert to the dimension’s Spider-Man. “What else?”

Behind him, you suddenly grow quiet.

“Now that I think about it, you must already know that since you recruited him. Sorry if that wasn’t anything worth listening to…are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“You’re not.” It comes out faster than intended.

He turns around. Once again, you look surprised by his words, but you don’t ask for confirmation this time. You just nod and return to your digital reports.

Why did you visit his laboratory again? You said it was a false alarm from LYLA, who’d likely sent it on purpose. Lately, she’s been on his case about how rude it is to “avoid” you through extra work. He thinks he could easily do without distractions or triggered memories, however.

Miguel opens a private file and thinks of what you’d just told him. Apart from concerned looks from Jess and Peter B, most of the Spider-Men haven’t given you any trouble. Your coworkers, however, are a different matter.

23) ______ laughed because of some stupid pickup line from Web-Slinger. Smiled when he complimented her outfit (purple blouse, black high-waist skirt, favorite heels, pearl hairpin).

24) ______ talked about the other agents’ webs again.* She admires stabilimenta.

“You should be careful with your friends,” he tells you. He types a few more observations and closes the screen. “The last thing I need is for you to get involved in their mess. Don’t think that I can’t see them slacking on the job.”

To your credit, you don’t apologize. “Noted.”

“Miguel!” LYLA appears and moves the screens around him. “We have an Anomaly in Earth-332. Spider-Woman called for backup.”

Great, another one. It must be a persistent villain if Jess needs his help.

“I’m on it.” He types the coordinates on his watch and activates the portal.

“How dangerous is it?”

He stops, just a few meters short of leaving.

You leave your desk, an anxious look on your face. “I know you told me not to worry before, but I really have no idea of what your battles are like. So…will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. A hug comes to mind—it always calmed her anxieties—but he instead gives you a shoulder pat. “Don’t wait for me. If it takes a while, LYLA will call someone to escort you home.”

“Okay.” You’re still standing in front of him, but he can feel the tension leaving your body. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, right? I’ll prepare a nice victory feast so look forward to that.”

A few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t have to.”

You pout at him. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not fair that you are so good at making my favorite meals. I still haven’t perfected yours.”

Secretly, Miguel thinks your cooking tastes better than his wife’s. But whatever keeps you distracted while he is saving the multiverse.

It’s also…nice to talk about work with you. With her, he had to act normal and make up excuses for his sudden disappearances. It’s refreshing to see your concern and know that you are praying for his safety. To imagine your relieved smile when he comes home.

“Miguel!” LYLA reappears between the two of you. “I hate to ruin the moment, but Spider-Woman could really use some help right now. I know you’re counting the seconds!”

No more time to waste.

“I’ll see you later.” He lets go of you and walks into the portal.

“Take care!” you call after him.

iv. triangle web

“Welcome home, love!”

As the door opened, Miguel resisted the urge to flinch. The lights were always too bright.

His Variant’s wife wasted no time hugging him. “What took you so long?”

“Something at work came up,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Again?” You closed the door behind him, a frown replacing your smile. “That’s the third time this month. Is there a problem in your office?”

“It’s…classified information. But nothing to worry about, mi sol.”

The house felt lively, even with Gabriella temporarily away. Warm lights. Family photos. Personal belongings scattered about. Your cheerful presence leading him.

The TV in the living room was on, paused at the beginning of a new film. Movie nights were an old family routine, he’d learned. The first time Miguel arrived in your husband’s place, you and Gabriella had agreed on an animated classic.

“Okay then. I’m just glad your office isn’t in the same area as that crime from earlier. Was there any debris blocking the road?”

“Not much.” And definitely none on the route to your workplace.

Upstairs, Miguel took a shower and contacted LYLA. The Anomaly had been returned to its original dimension. If he were lucky, none would appear tomorrow.

You were on the sofa when he came back. Wordlessly, he sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. The film began playing.

“I called Gabriella,” you murmured. “She and her friends are already planning their next sleepover. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you gift-wrapped her present?”

A pearl ring glinted above your intertwined hands. “It’s in my closet.”

Note to self: Ask LYLA to record the party. It will be a nice memory to revisit.

He smiled at you. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

The movie had a happy ending. It was, in your words, a cinematic masterpiece.

“That’s how it ends?”

Your outburst prompts Miguel to face the opposite end of the sofa. In the dim light, he can easily make out the unimpressed look on your face.

“The ending looks decent to me,” he muses. “If you ignore the logistics of their reunion, the film is entertaining enough to rewatch.”

“I think it could be more realistic. And you’re saying that across the multiverse, this is the most common version of the movie?”

“In five dimensions, to be exact. Others have the same ending but different actors.”

You pause. “I’ll admit that Earth-928’s version has superior costume design. But I still prefer my dimension’s neutral ending. Maybe it’s because our societal values are different.”

The closing credits continue, but neither of you leave the sofa. You’re still criticizing the film under your breath, unaware that Miguel can understand every word. He does agree that the happy ending causes a few plot holes.

At least with you, he can adjust the brightness levels.

“We can watch your version next time,” he offers, reaching for the remote with his webs.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

He turns off the TV. “We can do it on my next day off.”

Knowing LYLA, this won’t be the last time she plans a movie night without telling him.

“Well, what else could I do?” she asked after he privately demanded an explanation. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Miguel. You could really use a break, and so does ______.”

You take the remote from him and untangle the web fluid. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

Miguel gives you an odd look. “For what reason?”

You twist the web in your hands, forming string figures.

“As a decoration, maybe. Oh, and for the record, I don’t go around collecting webs from your coworkers. I just find yours particularly interesting.”

Weirdo. “My webs are functional like the others’. That’s all there is to it.”

You look him in the eye this time. “Hey, you should give yourself more credit. It’s my belief that every spiderweb is a work of art. And before you call me overly romantic, there have always been artists who thought they were worth noticing."

The web loops around your ring finger, in the place where her wedding ring used to be.

He averts his gaze. “I don’t see it that way. But whatever works for you.”

Another moment of silence.

“There is another reason,” you add softly.

He side-eyes you. “Is it about that day? You don’t need to keep thanking me for saving your life. As I said, I was doing my job and anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I wasn’t talking about you catching me.”

Oh, you meant that.

The web tangles in your hands.

“Listen.” You take a deep breath, eyes on your lap. “I know you’ve been avoiding this subject. Maybe it's so I don’t feel indebted to you or pressured into reliving bad memories. But…I just want you to know that I’m glad you foiled my plans.”

…It would be best to let you finish first.

Your voice shakes. “I mean, you’re smart, aren’t you? Even without my meltdown, you would’ve figured out that my fall had nothing to do with the Anomaly in my dimension.”

He did. And that was precisely why Miguel mistook you for one at first. It wasn’t just your identity but the fact that you were found in danger after the Anomaly had been captured.

Ten minutes post-battle. The undamaged state of the nearby buildings. The passive acceptance in your demeanor.

He can vividly recall the rest of that day. Those hours spent studying your personal data, identifying every action and condition which diverged from his wife's path.

A loud sigh. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? I thought it would be easier to put an end to my mistakes, then you had to show up. And thanks to you, life has been great! I like this world, I’m not alone, I still have my personal issues to work through but I’m trying to do better. But yeah…I’m just sorry for forcing you to get involved.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists. He scoots closer to you and puts his hand on top of yours. “I made the choice to bring you here. And I couldn’t exactly leave you, knowing your situation.”

That is a lie. Rather, half of his thoughts were about his wife and how he’d been able to sustain her happiness. How that farce proved he could do the same for you.

“Either way, I’m grateful.” You look up, your lips curving into a shy smile. “I’m really happy now, Miguel. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll never regret my decision to follow a cryptic stranger into a portal. Even if it meant learning that the multiverse is in constant danger. Or that my favorite film has an alternate ending which makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

Has his wife ever looked at him like that? There is a soft brilliance to your gaze, wholly reserved for him. It triggers a warm feeling in his chest.

The moment is quickly ended when you cover your face with a cushion.

“Anyway! If you don’t mind, I’d really love to move on and talk about something else. How was your mission earlier? Is Earth-199999 still giving you a hard time?”

You’re still seated next to him, legs touching. Your tone leaves no room for objection.

He lets go of your hand. “You would not believe what kind of shocking messes we’ve had to deal with. We are never recruiting Dr. Strange or his little nerd.”

“You can tell me all about it.” You untangle his web from your hands; it loops around your pinky finger this time. “I’m here for you, okay? For as long as you’ll have me.”

v. mesh web

There have been more Anomalies lately.

You walk past the detained villains, silently counting them. Their increase in numbers has kept the Spider Society on high alert for the past weeks. While it means more documents for you, the effect on Miguel’s stress levels is concerning.

Come to think of it, has he returned from his mission yet? If not, you hope the cafeteria’s takeout boxes have a self-heating function. As you get closer to Miguel's laboratory, you hear the door open. The sound is followed by two sets of footsteps.

“Do you think it’s healthy for him?”

“I’m more worried about ______.”

You stop walking.

Is that Peter B and Jess? Why are they talking about you?

Jess’s tone is reproachful. “The poor girl has been through so much already. It’s not safe for her to be here, at least in HQ. He knows that she is a different case from Gwen.”

“You know how Miguel is. I’ve already asked about her, and he won’t tell me anything new. Not even my Super Adorable Mayday album could convince him.”

“I don’t like this, Peter.”

Their footsteps become louder. You go back to the entrance of the hallway, just within earshot but hopefully far enough to evade their Spider-Senses.

“Neither do I. But you should’ve seen him when he lost their daughter, Jess. Now think of his wife: He never got to see ______ before she disintegrated. Then one day, out of nowhere, after staying away from countless Variants, he finds a version of her who needs him.”

…What the hell are they talking about?

The walls close in on you. You take a step back, followed by another.

Then, at the sound of a sharp “Is someone there?”, you drop the takeout box and run.

Their daughter. His wife. A version of her.

You already know that Miguel lost a family in another dimension. It was briefly mentioned when he warned you about Canon disruptions, but he refused to share the details. Is this why?

This whole time…you are a Variant of his wife?

You aren’t followed. Your coworkers cheerfully greet you, but you ignore them and return to your desk. It’s arranged the way you like it, complete with personal decorations. The drawer holds a stress ball in your favorite color, a gift from Miguel of all people.

You never did tell him that it is your go-to stress reliever. Was it the same for her?

You squeeze the ball and take deep breaths, but the action does little to calm you.

It all makes sense. Why else would Miguel take an interest in you?

Your gaze lands on your Dimensional Travel Watch before you remember that the idea is futile. Yours is only a modified version which prevents glitches but can’t be used for travel. And the Go-Home Machine would require Spider-Byte’s help.

…Why are you even wasting your time on an escape plan? How are you sure that you won’t mess up and make another mistake?

“______?” LYLA appears in front of your face. Her greeting sounds different.

He knows.

You force yourself to answer. “Y-Yes?”

“Miguel is back.” She flickers as usual, but it doesn’t change the nervous look on her face. “He wants to see you.”

꒰♡꒱

Peter B will be dead when he gets to him.

Several screens surround Miguel, each playing CCTV footage. He focuses on a live recording of you on your way to his laboratory.

At least you are complying with his orders.

The platform is fully lowered by the time you get there.

“Hey…welcome back,” you stammer. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” he replies brusquely. “Jess and Peter B spoke with me as soon as I came back. I was just confirming the status of Earth-67 when I checked the CCTVs. Care to explain?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. LYLA is nowhere to be seen.

Your panic is evident. Your gaze wanders, at everything but Miguel, until it stops at the dented takeout box on his desk. “Is that…is the food still warm? Or have you already eaten in Earth-67? I forgot to ask in advance.”

He glares at you. “Are you seriously worrying about my lunch right now?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?” you shoot back. The anger in your tone is unmistakable. “‘Hey, Miguel, when was I supposed to know that we were a family in the dimension you accidentally collapsed?’ Does that sound any better?!”

“Believe me, I was going to leave you alone at first.” He grips the edge of his desk, resisting the urge to raise his voice. “But how could I do it after the way you reacted?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You could’ve easily said no! This whole time, I wondered why you were so willing to help me. I thought you were being nice, that you believed giving me a better life was worth all these risky accommodations. Was…was I wrong?”

Your voice cracks at the last part, and you hastily wipe your eyes. It’s reminiscent of your first meeting, the distressed shock which Miguel had never seen in his wife. Only that time, you had sought out his comfort.

“Tell me, was it because of her?” you whisper. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that all you’ve ever seen in me?”

“You have the wrong idea.” Miguel approaches you, but you instinctively back away. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “If you would just listen to me—”

“How can I?!”

Your hand settles on your wrist, unconsciously fiddling with your Dimensional Travel Watch. The clasp loosens, and his reaction is immediate.

He grips your arm. “Don’t do that! You’ll get yourself—”

“Let go of me!”

You pull back, clawing at his wrist, but Miguel's grasp only tightens. His other hand taps the watch’s controls to activate the Lock feature.

“This is for your own good, ______." In the split second that he releases you, his webs shoot out and bind your limbs together.

“No!” You collapse onto the floor. The scarlet threads dig into your skin, emitting a harsh glow in the dark. “Please, just let me go!”

After everything he’s been through, he is not losing you again.

Ignoring the stab of guilt, he picks you up and salvages what is left of his composure.

“You see, this is why I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

You’re still shaking in his grasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I…I’m not—”

His kiss easily silences you. It’s far from intimate but the sensations are familiar. Warm lips. The scent of your perfume. The addictive rush of euphoria. Physical and chemical reactions which couldn’t be adequately explained in words.

And the whimper that escapes your lips when Miguel pulls back to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“We can continue this conversation when we get home.”

vi. cobweb

Your days in the Spider Society are over.

Not permanently. Miguel says that you can resume work once you’ve calmed down, but you doubt it will happen under any pretense of freedom.

Since your confrontation, you’ve been confined in his home. As it turns out, Miguel had already prepared for this—locks, alarms, hidden cameras, a comprehensive speech which only elevates your horror.

“She wouldn’t want this,” you keep insisting. You writhe against your restraints, but the webs remain taut against your skin. “How would your ______ feel if she knew?!”

“She’s not here anymore.” Miguel looks away from your face, as though the reminder physically pains him. “What matters now is that I have you. The both of us can start over.”

“How can you say that?!” At this point, you’re on the verge of hysteria. “You…you don’t actually love me. You’re only doing this because I’m the closest you have to getting her back!”

The hand on your cheek makes you flinch. The gentle caress does little to soothe you, not with the underlying threat of his claws. His eyes flash red in the dim light, brimming with—what do you call it? Grief? Desperation? Obsession?

You can’t tell, not when those sentiments are for someone else.

“You only say that because you don’t know any better,” he says softly. His lips meet yours, trapping you in a deep kiss. “Now get some rest, mi sol. It’s been a long day, and we know how you get when you’re stressed.”

My sun. What a lie. Since when have you done anything to deserve such a title?

You can’t bother to fight back. You’re too tired to think, to resist the kiss, to move an inch as Miguel undos your restraints and tucks you into bed.

Instead, you close your eyes and retreat into slumber. But even in your last seconds of consciousness, his gaze is strongly felt.

As it turns out, Miguel really did consider all possibilities. Your Dimensional Travel Watch has an exclusive Lock feature, should you ever be tempted to escape him through death. It can only be removed during your scheduled baths, with LYLA acting as your timer.

You rarely talk to her, either. She clearly feels sorry for you, but not enough to help. She monitors your daily activity, keeps you company when Miguel is away, and tries to cheer you up. She has yet to accomplish the last task.

Against your better judgment, you ask her about your Variant. She is resistant at first, knowing the negative outcome, but you are persistent. In the end, LYLA decides that it’s better to show you a few videos than for you to ask Miguel directly.

…Your Variant is perfect. Pretty. Carefree. Successful. A calming presence. You can see why Miguel would fall for her, with how she effortlessly puts a smile on his face.

Among your Variants, isn’t there one who bears a closer resemblance to her? Or were they too important to leave without disrupting the Canon? Is that why he settled for you?

“You have a better sense of style,” LYLA offhandedly mentions. “It was Miguel who said that. And do you know that he calls you one of our best workers?”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

As LYLA predicted, the information only makes you feel worse. You can’t stop thinking about your other self. How did she turn out like that? How did she succeed in your failures? How has Miguel perceived his moments with you, as new memories or a replica of lost time?

You don’t want to ask him. You’ve had enough disappointments for one lifetime.

Neither do you make an escape plan. On the low chance that you succeed, you don’t have anywhere to go. The Spider Society, or most of them, is loyal to Miguel. And it’s not like you’d be better off in your dimension, back to your empty home and dead-end job and daily reminders of your insignificance.

At least here, you can feel valued. Even if you owe that to someone else.

꒰♡꒱

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.”

Miguel doesn’t look up from the screens. “Now is not the time for this.”

LYLA is anything but smug. ”Are you sure? Because you said that when I asked if you’d ever tell her the truth, and look where that went. A civil explanation might’ve been nice.”

“How is she?”

“No better than with you.”

The CCTV switches to the kitchen. By now, you've established a new routine—lie awake in bed, rearrange your room, watch TV, cook your own meals. It's repetitive but easy to follow.

He zooms in on the ingredients. “Do you see anything suspicious?”

“No potential poisons,” LYLA responds, equally focused. “Oh, is she cooking dinner again? Last night’s meal looked really good.”

“It probably helps. Gives her something to preoccupy herself with.”

In the end, you’ve chosen the docile route. You’re still tense around Miguel, but your behavior can’t even be counted as malicious compliance. You just go through your new routine, trying to create some semblance of normalcy in confinement.

Though internally speaking, he has no access to your thoughts.

“She’s quite different from his wife, isn’t she?” asks LYLA. “I like this version of ______.”

Miguel zooms in on you this time. In your current state, you’ve revealed more contrasts to his Variant’s wife. It actually doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

When did his feelings for you begin? Was it when he saved you? When he saw a spark of his beloved in you? When that spark turned out to be your own brilliance?

All he knows is that you’re the one who consumes his thoughts nowadays. Your distinct preferences, your little quirks, your quiet words, your uncertain expressions, your attitude towards him and no other Miguel.

...There must be a way to persuade you. If Miguel was able to play along with his Variant’s family, to the point that his love for them became genuine, the same can be said for you. He just needs to prove that you can and will be happy together.

The only thing missing would be Gabriella.

vii. sheet web

You’ve been promoted to Miguel’s bedmate.

His room isn’t much. It is dark, minimalist, often empty due to the nature of his work. There are zero mementos of his lost family, not even a framed photo or something of her influence.

They’re probably hidden somewhere. How considerate.

On most nights, you act oblivious to your new sleeping arrangement. You just say good night to Miguel, lie down on your side of the bed, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

…That turns out to be more difficult than expected. Try as you might to feign sleep, you can’t relax in Miguel’s grasp. He holds you tightly in his sleep, your back pressed against his chest. You wonder if it is a familiar position or a means of keeping you close.

Lately, he has switched tactics. Movie nights have become a regular pastime. You’ve received permission to work from home, sans contact with the Spider Society. The two of you have even gone outside for a few dates, though his grip on your hand discourages any escape attempts. Awkwardness aside, he’s been more physically affectionate.

It’s absolutely jarring, but you’re somewhat grateful for the added comforts. If your choices are different from his wife’s, Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

This should be fine. It’s better than when he was acting like an overprotective control freak…even if those methods had left no speculation as to who the intended receiver was. With this approach, you can never be sure if Miguel sees you or his wife in front of him.

You try not to dwell on it more than you already have. You’re still here. Your living conditions have marginally improved. Miguel doesn’t expect you to be more like her.

You just need to keep it together, like you always have.

That is what you keep telling yourself, up until the night Miguel asks for your thoughts on starting a family.

“No. Please, stop!”

Red. In the dark, all you can see is red.

The lurid color wraps around you, binding your wrists to the headboard. The webs are taut, no-frills, effective in their sole purpose of keeping you trapped.

No, what’s worse is Miguel. His gaze is trained on you, scarlet orbs alight with crazed desire and your own terrified reflection.

“Stop struggling,” he sighs as he pins you down. Blood decorates his bare arms, from where your scratches failed to stop him. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You continue, anyway, only to scream as he leans down and sinks his fangs into your neck. It hurts, the flesh burns, everything feels heavy—

You can’t move.

It doesn’t take long for the venom to kick in. The numbness spreads throughout your body, leaving you dizzy and helpless. Your limbs won’t cooperate at all.

Yet despite the paralysis, the pain stays with you. It’s the only sensation you can feel—the sharp ache in your neck, the chafing around your wrists, the sting from where Miguel accidentally scratched your thigh while tearing off your clothes.

“Mi sol, you are still tense,” he mutters. His lips remain on your neck, administering light kisses to the fresh wound. A clawed hand presses down on the bed, puncturing the fabric, to support his weight. “You need to calm down.”

You can only bite your lip as he moves on to your chest, tainting the skin with love bites. His other hand retracts its claws and strokes your stomach, tracing—are those patterns supposed to be her stretch marks?

Of course he memorized them. She must be on his mind right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but the ministrations continue. His thumb strokes your hip, eliciting a stifled moan, and the self-inflicted darkness gives way to the sight of Miguel’s irritated expression.

“You’re not listening to me, ______.” His eyes flash, daring you to try again. The sight of his exposed fangs, speckled with your own blood, triggers another wave of dread.

Should you even be surprised that he knows your sensitive spots? He already made it clear that any form of escape is in vain.

It's pure torture. It would be easier if Miguel would just have his way with you, use your body to his heart’s content, leave you to your thoughts. But no, he is taking his time and making sure that you physically enjoy this. Ensuring that you will be ready for what comes next.

“S-Stop.” Your lips are still numb, but you manage to form words. “I said…I don’t want this! I’m not ready!”

“Shh.” He silences you with another kiss, his palm pressing down on your stomach. “You’re only saying this because it’s our first time. You have to trust me.”

It’s hard to believe him when you know that his composure is slipping. What is he trying to hide? His ragged breaths? The hardness pressed against your inner thigh? The urgency with which he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders?

“You’ll understand once our child is here,” he says. He breaks off the kiss, his voice hushed to a reverent whisper. “We will be so happy, happier than you can ever imagine.”

“You’re lying…I can’t—!”

You can’t stand to look at him. His gaze is so cruel, clouded with love, adoration, hope. Skies, he looks so hopeful. You don’t want to wait for the day he looks at you differently.

Was this how he looked at her? How did she return his gaze? It must’ve been passionate. It must’ve been romantic. It must’ve been so promising.

“I can’t give you Gabriella!”

The world stops as soon as those words leave your mouth.

“...What did you just say?” Miguel stares at you, eyes wide.

Of all Variants, why did it have to be you?

That is when you burst into tears.

How humiliating. It’s hard to breathe, it must be an ugly sight, and you can’t do anything to cover your face. But it’s enough to make Miguel stop and listen to you.

“I can’t give you Gabriella,” you repeat in choked sobs. “It requires an exact time, specific cells and DNA. And even if we succeed, I can’t raise her into the child you knew. I...I can’t restore your family. I can’t be her.”

In the end, you will only disappoint him.

“______…” He raises his hand to wipe your tears, but you interrupt him with a glare.

“Honestly, why did it have to be me?!” you shout. “Why couldn’t you have found a better duplicate of your wife? This wouldn’t be happening if you’d chosen the right ______!”

He doesn't respond.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is your own pitiful weeping. You vaguely register the feeling of your legs hitting the mattress, of the absence of Miguel’s touch, but you keep your eyes closed. It’s easier that way.

Suddenly, there is the sound of threads snapping. Then the sensation of strong hands coming under your back, lifting you upwards, pulling you into an embrace.

Your eyes fly open. “What—”

“Ya, calladita.”

Miguel…is he hugging you? He holds you tightly, repeating the words in a hushed tone. The message is followed by a string of curses which, judging by the way he turns away from you, must be solely directed at himself.

Paralyzed, you can only stare down at your lap. At his webs, still wrapped around your wrists but no longer connected to the bed. “What are you—”

“Could you let me talk for a second?" he snaps. He tilts your face upwards, allowing you to take in his glare. “You are my first choice. Not the version of you from Earth-94, Earth-835, or any other dimension in the multiverse. It doesn’t matter that you are different from her.”

This can’t be true. “Still, I—”

“As for Gabriella, you’re right." There is a flash of resignation in his gaze, so sorrowful that it clashes with his words. “I knew that from the start.”

“...Then why?”

Your head spins. His hands are still on you, caressing your cheek and keeping you in his grasp. The numbness gives way to warmth.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that any child from you will be ours,” he answers. His voice softens, as does his gaze. “Just as you are mine and I am yours.”

The words get stuck in your throat. “Are…are you sure?”

How can he say such a thing? Your sense of hearing must be damaged. It is the only logical explanation as to why—

The look in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. “I promise.”

...What else can you possibly say?

Your vision blurs. Miguel is still speaking, another quiet reassurance from the sound of it, but it’s all static in your head.

What the hell are you supposed to do with this information? It’s beyond your comprehension, too subjective and unproven for the likes of you. And yet you feel…good. Happy. So, so happy despite everything you have been through.

Skies, you are truly pathetic.

No, what’s more pathetic is the way you cry harder and melt into Miguel’s embrace. It’s the way you listen to his remaining praises and beg him to keep talking. To list everything about you that is good and faultless and desirable to him, everything he thought was worth noticing.

And when he kisses you, you willingly reciprocate.

The darkness is soothing.

The dim lights cast the bedroom in shadows. It’s a blessing to your dizziness, your eyes tired from crying. With this obstacle to your vision, you can pretend that the previous hours never happened.

Almost. The soreness, the deft hands tending to your injuries, and the immense euphoria are impossible to ignore.

It’s also painful, unbearably painful now that the venom’s effect has fully worn off. You can only sit up and wince as Miguel disinfects another wound.

He looks up in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” You give him a weak smile as he bandages your thigh and mumbles a second apology. “I feel better already.”

His own injuries are equally evident, from your hesitant love bites to the scratch marks on his back. As guilty as you felt, you could only say so much before Miguel silenced you with a withering look.

…You will make it up to him tomorrow. If you are still capable of walking.

The thought leads you to cry into the pillow, muffling your curses. If Miguel can understand you, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he closes the first aid kit and holds your hand.

“I’ll draw a bath,” he tells you. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

Your thumb brushes against his pulse point. His heart rate is frustratingly calm, perhaps slightly above average if you are to flatter yourself. Maybe you can count the number of beats and ask LYLA tomorrow. She will be happy to confirm it.

You meet his gaze, intertwining your fingers with his. “Sure.”

You’d like to think that his last kiss is another promise.

With that, Miguel stands up and leaves the room. As for you, you lie down and go back to screaming into the pillow. Tired as you feel, you haven’t felt this thrilled in years.

Then the spiderwebs catch your attention. They’re still stuck to your wrists, albeit frayed. There are loose threads from where Miguel broke them.

Red. Illuminating the dark, holding you close, keeping you safe.

Carefully, you pick apart the threads and twist them around your hand.

No string figures this time. Your technique is clumsy, irregular, lacking beauty and order. Nonetheless, you continue until your left hand is covered in a glovelike pattern.

The final knot is above your ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

It is the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

♡

Author's Note ๑ Side Story 1 ๑ Prologue ๑ Epilogue ๑ Side Story 2

“I’m just going to write a short post to purge my brainrot,” I say, shortly before Miguel O’Hara unlocks a core memory of me reading The Spider and the Fly and inspires me to write 7.6k words with literary references.

Thank you so much to @diodellet for beta-reading this and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish phrases!! As for my readers, I hope you enjoyed my take on Yandere! Miguel and his darling. Do entertain me with your comments and brainrot ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @kocherry @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @h2o2-and-baking-soda @ansy-tea @yandere-wishes @weebsinstash @curesi @robindere @crystalcrynight @mrlidocaine @handsomeunderwear-art @blughxreader @chiikasevennn @fortheloveofleon

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cherryglitterp4lace · 9 days

Note

Yan! Miss circle w/ a fem!teacher reader when?💪🏻🔥🔥 (I'm so sorry I'm getting interested in how you write😢)

✮⋆˙HOTLINE BLING ୨୧

Yandere Miss Circle x Fem Teacher Reader

A/N:YESS, I AM BITING THE BARS OF MY CAGE, TYY ANON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼 MY LIST IS NOW COMPLETE, also, sorry for the delay, i went to hang out with some friends and also, THANK YOU!!! IM SO HAPPY PPL LIKE MY WRITING

Tw: Yandere topics, killing mentions, descriptive gore, toxic relationship, breaking bones mentions, Remember: Yanderes can be extremely dangerous! do not approach nor interact with people who acts like this towards you.

✮⋆˙ Okay, this was probably love at first sight, i just see Miss Circle as someone hard to get a crush but when she gets it, its probably love at first sight and she would be REALLY obsessed with her crush, she would probably the 2nd worst yandere to have in the school. (along with ms grace, Alice is the 1st)

✮⋆˙ Miss Circle shows lots of signals and obvious hints that she loves you and that she really wants you, but she thinks she is being very discreet about it, so if you ever find an eyeball in your teacher desk written with blood: "be mine ♡" it was definitely not her.

✮⋆˙ Miss Circle would have no problem in eliminating anyone who she sees a threat or who falls in love with you and she wouldnt even try to hide it, you would just see the multilated body who was missing half of their skin of the someone who gave you a good morning too kindly.

✮⋆˙ Miss Circle is controlling, aggressive, narcissistic, mean and clingy, she would often be mean to you too, but in a passive aggressive way because thats how she shows you love, by controlling you and bully you into doing what she demanded asked and when she is not showing her love to you in words, shes just clinging into you like a cat.

✮⋆˙ Like, if you were just chilling, she would come with a ":3" face with her eyes closed and would rest her head on your shoulder, if she could purr, she would, thats probably the only way she shows love without making your mental health 5x worse.

✮⋆˙ She would kidnap you but she feels like she could break you, so she decided against it to not take the risk of losing you and your charm to insanity.

✮⋆˙ Would have no problem in teaching you a lesson if you tried to leave her, a scratch or two on your arm or leg, enough to draw blood would probably do the trick, if not, she could break some bones to make sure the letter is passed.

✮⋆˙ Miss Circle would definitely stalk you, in school, on your way home, everywhere, if she gets the possibility to, she WILL do it, she does that to make sure you are safe and of course, to admire you.

✮⋆˙ But of course, she wont stop saying and thinking that you are very lucky to he with her, someone so feared and respected because of her hostility and merciless brutality and she will say it to your face.

✮⋆˙ If you try to leave her... i dont think things will end well for you, lets say that... she thinks you are just flawless and beautiful, she needs you at all costs, but if you dont want that... well... if she cant have you... No one can.

✮⋆˙ "I love you."

#fundamental paper education x reader #fluff #fpe #fpe fanfiction #fpe x reader #fundamental paper education #x female reader #fpe yandere #yandere headcanons #tw warning #miss circle #୨୧ cherry works

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tosuckmyweenis · 9 months

Text

Bee's fic inspired me to finally get this one out of the drafts😵‍💫

On a day of freedom, Leon takes you to a donut shop, one that has your missing posters.

CW Yan!Leon, Smut, PinV, kidnapping, non/dub-con, Leon being a dick.

Two months of monotonous hell and not a chance of escape.

Waking up, the sun began filtering through the blinds, painting the room a soft, orange hue.

Carefully steadying your breath, you lift your head off Leon's chest to glance at the clock.

Too early, don't wake him up.

You slowly lay back down, gazing at him. His features were so peaceful in the golden morning light, highlighted by sunbeams that danced through the window and made him look almost angelic. A small smile touched your lips as you let yourself imagine a different possibility that was much sweeter than this one.

If only you had met him normally. If only he had just asked you out on a small coffee date, you would have said yes in a heartbeat; he was everything you were looking for.

Your body tenses as his hand rubs your back, pulling you out of your musings.

So close

"Good morning" his sleepy voice croaked.

"Good morning; how'd you sleep?"

"The best in a while, thanks to you."

His hand continues to leave feather-light touches; as much as you want to hate him for what he's done to you, a part of you is drawn to him. Maybe it's his charm because he made sure he's the only person you have left, and you craved interaction.

He pulls you in for a kiss; His lips are soft and warm.

You know that you have to play along in order to survive. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he deepens the kiss you can taste last night's alcohol on his breath but ignore it. It's better to pretend that you're enjoying this, better to keep up the façade that you're falling for him.

Gently rolling into the soft mattress, you pull him over you; he stares into your eyes, laced with slight confusion, waiting for the resistance he was sure to come like it always did; when it didn't, a small smile creeps across his face.

Cupping his face, you pull him in for another kiss, heart pounding in your chest as his hands move to your hips; he deepens the embrace, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine as your fingers entwined in his hair.

You lean into his touch as his fingers glide to your thighs with an electrifying tenderness, teasing you with the barest graze.

He runs a finger along your slit, drinking in the quiet moan that leaves you as he dips into your already soaked slit, your hips rolling into his hand.

"Please..."

"Shh...Be a good girl and take this for me."

He pumps another finger inside you, curling it rhythmically. His thumb rubs circles against your clit.

You throw your head back, pushing over the edge, bucking against his hand. He works you through your orgasm, slowing the pace of his fingers, bringing you down gently.

Groaning at the divine sight of your head pushed into the pillows, mouth opening in a silent cry, he pulls his fingers free before shoving them into your mouth.

"Suck."

You hazily comply, closing your lips around his digits and swirling your tongue over them sloppily. His breath shudders, cock twitching against you as his fingers thrust between your lips, fucking them into your mouth.

He pulls them free, pulling your lip down as he grins. "Good girl."

You whimper as his fingers knead your thighs again, parting them wide before settling himself in between them.

His cock slips up against your dripping cunt, slicking along your folds. His hand settles on your hip, pressing down firmly as he guides himself inside you.

You whine, toes curling as he pushes in

His eyes focused on his cock disappearing into you again and again.

"Fuck- you feel so good"

His words are mumbled, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder as his hips thrust into you, moving your fingertips to slide over his shoulder and down his back, feeling his muscles tense as he moves.

His hips snap forward, your lips parting in a breathy moan as his cock drags over your walls, and you clench around him.

"I'm not gonna last if you keep that up"

You feel his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to look up, sweat dripping from his temple. You kiss him softly and he groans, his thrusting picking up again.

"Gonna make me cum acting all sweet like that" nipping at your skin as he drives into you.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper as you grip the bedsheets beneath you. You can feel the tightening in your abdomen, your core clenching around him.

His cock twitches, dragging over you in thick, pulsing thrusts as his moans grow louder and louder in your ear.

His voice cracks as you feel his cock throb, a groan muffled into your skin as he pumps you full.

You tremble, arching your back as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, his mouth on your neck as his thrusts slow. His soft moans in your ear are muffled by his teeth scraping your skin.

"Fuck" his hips stop as he falls against you; you can feel the thud of his steady heartbeat against your chest.

You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself sink further into the pillows as your eyes close.

The room falls quiet, you both taking the time to catch your breaths. His head shifts, nuzzling to your shoulder before he lifts himself up onto his hands, kissing you softly as he pulls himself free from you. You shudder at the feeling.

"Come on, let's go shower," he murmurs, his voice low.

Letting him help you out of bed before he leads you into the bathroom, running the hot water before stepping in with you.

Pulling you close as the hot water pours down over both of you. You sink against him, leaning into his chest as his hands slide down your back to your hips.

"Isn't it much more enjoyable when you behave?" he teases, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Finishing the shower, you turn off the water and step out, handing him a towel as you do. He dries himself, then helps dry you, letting his hands wander over your body again.

"I have to go to work now, but I'll let you stay up here, alright?."

you nod

He waits a second, expecting you to continue talking. He's slightly annoyedby your lack of response

"I have a special plan for tonight as a reward." He pulls you in for a final hug; then he lets go.

You watch him get dressed, admiring how the suit hugs his form. You've seen him wear it a few times now, and it looks good on him. When he's finished, he looks over at you.

"Don't disappoint me."

You wave him goodbye as he leaves.

The thought of escaping crossed your mind, but you hardly think you could make it very far considering you had no idea where you were. so you tuck the idea away for now, not wanting to dwell on hopelessness of your situation on your free day.

You get dressed in one of the outfits he laid on the dresser for you.

The day was long, so you do the next best thing and explore.

You sit on the couch, flipping through channel after channel, not finding anything you really want to watch, you make your way to the bedroom and start looking through everything, theres bound to be something for you to do

you find books and magazines, but nothing worth wile.

You opt to just lay in bed, maybe he'll bring you something to do next time if you'd ask him nicely.

You wake up to light pushing on your shoulder, in your groggy state you slap it away alot harder than you intended to

"That wasn't very nice of you."

his dark voice ripped you from your sleep, shooting up, you apologize profusely not wanting to end up on his bad side when you did so well all day.

"Fix yourself up and meet me at the door."

His was being short, which meant he wasn't happy. the nasty feeling of dread sinks in the pit of your stomach and stays there like a stone.

The car ride was awkward, the silence hung heavy and it wasn't going to be you that brakes it, the running air conditioning being the only grace.

He takes you to a small donut shop you've never heard of; he ushers you to a small booth in the corner.

Shuffling into the seat facing the wall, you glance around; it is cozy.

Without giving you much time to adjust, he pushes the newspaper towards you, his expression unchanging.

"Look under there."

Furrowing your brows, you pull the newspaper to the side

It takes you a second to process what you're looking at.

You stand transfixed on the poster, eyes widening as you absorb its vivid red and black colour

you know the face is supposed to be you, but the person that stares back looks nothing like what stands in front of the mirror anymore; it's a haunting reminder of the life taken from you, a life he took in a matter of seconds.

The rage boiling within your veins sears your skin from the inside out.

No wonder he let you come with him today; he wanted you to realize just how unrecognizable you had become. The fight was over.

Your eyes sting with tears; you don't even care enough to try and wipe them away, the tear splashing onto the paper, seeping into it so the ink bleeds slightly when you run your thumb over your printed-out face.

"Be good" his voice heavy with expectation

It wasn't a choice; it was a demand.

He expected obedience: not an answer or a sound out of you.

Sliding out of the booth, he makes his way to the counter.

Clutching the poster to your chest, you slump into yourself; the once spacious room feels like it's suffocating you. You take a deep breath, just wishing there was some way you could wake up from this nightmare.

Pushing the poster back under the paper and shoving it as far away from you as possible, you can't stand to look at it anymore.

"That bad, huh?"

his voice breaks through your misery, along with the clanging of the tray on the table and clinking of the glass as he sets yours in front of you

Looking at the tray, a donut. You haven't had sweets in a while, so you should be excited, especially since he kept you on the bare minimum to keep you complacent.

Grabbing one of the donuts, he takes a bite before speaking, pulling the poster back into your view and taunting you.

"It's so sad, isn't it? A poor helpless girl, just up and gone with no one to find her" his faux 'concern' dripped with sarcasm

"I wonder what happened to her. Cut up on the side of the road, perhaps? Or maybe floating down some river with weights attached to her ankles."

He took a sip of his drink with an overtly faked smile

He kept going

"Or maybe, she just ran away to live a happy life with her loving husband, so he can protect her from all the dangers in the world; I like that option much more. Now eat your donut."

Staring at him unblinking as he shoved the donut closer to you,

you felt a deep sense of disgust for the man sitting across from you.

"Eat, or we're cutting our little date short."

You know that disobedience never ends well. So you reluctantly take a bite of the donut; normally, it would be a welcome taste, but this time it makes your stomach churn, the sweetness of the pastry contrasts heavily with the bitterness of your thoughts

can you live a life where you are constantly under the control of a monster?

You take a deep breath, trying to push away these negative thoughts.

Finishing the donut, you put the plate back on the tray; he finishes the last of his coffee and places the cup down.

"It's time to go now."

You trailed behind him like the loyal pet he had trained to listen and respond. You wished you could defy him, but you knew that any resistance would only lead to more hurt and after today, there's no fight left in you, nothing but a gnawing emptiness of a life you can never live.

#dont look at him too hard. good renders are scarce to come by #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #yandere leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #tw noncon #tw dubious consent #fair warning i read this like once #so god bless ignore any mistakes

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