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bleedingichorhearts · 28 days

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𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XV

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: They didn’t make it easy, just sayin’.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // Slight SMUT/NSFW, Violence, Yandere Themes?

It’s been 4 years since I found myself with my biological child. 4 years being stuck under a house filled with camera systems that I didn’t have access to. What were they expecting? A feral marine to just slam through the wall?

I sighed, watching a shadow engulfing the front door from the kitchen. No doubt it being that cop and his Dark Angel checking up on us almost every day.

“I’ll get it!” Salem yelled out, already bolting for the door. His little footsteps echoing across the wooden floorboards while I took the dish rag off to my side to dry off my hands. Making my way towards the door myself.

“Clyde! Dacre!” My son squealed, being picked up by Clyde as he spun him around. Both of them laughing together before Clyde settled him on his hip.

“Are you causing your mother some trouble?” Clyde questioned, only walking further through the house when I nodded to them that it was okay.

“Never! I’m a good man!” Salem yelled, looking very proud of himself.

“Man? Since when?” Clyde asked, turning his head toward me. His pure blue eyes always capturing my attention.

“I may have praised him for helping me out with some ‘heavy’ chores.” I said, throwing the dishrag back into the sink from the hallway.

“Yeah! And they were heavy!” Salem explained, throwing his arms out as Clyde led the small group into the living room.

Plopping myself down onto the L-shaped sofa. Dacre sat himself besides me, making the sofa bounce a little as he rumbled. If I didn’t have Astartes sized furniture, I’m sure the sofa would have snapped in half with the added weight of his armor.

“How’s your mother doing anyway? I haven’t heard from her in quite a while.” Clyde questioned, looking over at me once more as Salem wiggled out of his hold.

“She is the best!” Salem shouted, running over and jumping into my chest, snuggling into it. “She gave me gummy worms!”

“Gummy worms?”

“What? He earned it.” I said, threading my hand through Salem's white hair as he smiled up at me.

“You spoil him too much.” Clyde sighed, his tone closer to adoration.

“It’s what a mother does.” I hummed, a rhythmic ding going off. Telling me the laundry was done.

“Can’t argue with that.” He said while I kissed the top of Salem's head.

“Excuse me boys, but laundry calls.” I excused myself, pushing off the sofa and towards the laundry room.

“Clyde! Can you play with me?” I heard Salem yell out to the copper while I left the living room. A small smile growing across my face at the childness.

“Sure buddy! What do you have in mind?”

Entering the laundry room. The scent of fresh clothing greeting my nose. The washing machine singing its tune out just before the dryer.

Dragging an empty laundry basket over to the dryer. I opened it up and started to load the basket up with the warm, fresh, clean clothes before pushing it out of the way and taking the lint out of the dryer. Then, I shuffled over to open up the washing machine and started to throw the damp clothes into the dryer. A soft thunk going off with each piece of clothing I threw in there.

Jumping in my spot, I spun around at the sound of a rumbling purr from Dacre. His hulking form leaning down a little to get through the archway.

“Dacre? Shouldn’t you be with Clyde?” I questioned, turning back to continue throwing more wet clothes into the dryer.

He purred again, his head coming forward to softly nuzzle the top of my head. Sending a twist down into my stomach that I couldn’t identify if it was ‘butterflies’ or my nerves telling me something else.

“Did you want something?” I asked, shutting the washing machine door and turning around to face him once more.

Dacre chuffs, his form practically curling over mine as he lifted me up and put me on top of the washing machine. His gauntlet taking a hold of my chin and tilted it up to him. His thin lips brushing up against mine. My stomach twisting more and more.

Shooting my hand up, I grabbed him on his gauntlet, stopping his movement. A low rumble coming from the Astartes. His russet brown eyes look down at me, questioning.

I opened my mouth, closed it then sighed. “I-I just… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

It was true, I didn’t know. This felt so right to do, but so wrong like it was unjust, cheating even.

I mean, I did have s*x with them once, but I admit, I was in a really bad spot. I haven’t had s*x in 3 long years. My fingers couldn’t keep sedating the same growing itch inside of my core for long, but f*ck was it a very pleasurable experience to have.

Dacre rumbled lowly and pressed a light kiss to my jawline then a little closer to my neck, testing what was acceptable to do and not. Not really pushing it, giving me any time to stop him; pull away from him, but I didn’t.

I let his breath fan against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine before his lips connected to mine. His tongue licking the bottom of my lips, asking if he could do more than just a sweet kiss. Opening my mouth a little, he didn’t hesitate to explore. His gauntlet coming up behind my head while I placed my hand on his chestplate, a groan leaving both of us.

“Mom! Ma!” I heard Salem call for me. My eyes widening in surprise, flickering from Dacre to the archway. His head moving back, leaving me out of breath. “Mother!”

Whipping the excess saliva off my lips, I slid off the washer. Dacre moving to the side to let me through, but before going to my sons call. I went on my tiptoes and surprised the Dark Angel with a kiss to his cheek. His eyes widening in surprise as he straightened up to his full height while I brushed past him.

“Yes, Salem?” I called back, hearing the light purr of a satisfied Astartes behind me.

“Can I have more gummy worms?” Salem asked, his tone a little suspicious.

“I don’t know. It’s nearing dinner time!” I responded, making my way to the kitchen. Spotting my child and the cop getting into mischief together. Their thieving hands in the snack cupboard.

“What are you two doing?” I asked, spooking them as they both jumped and looked behind them.

“Retreat recruit! Retreat!” Clyde yelled, picking up Salem as he squealed in delight. Taking a bag of snacks with them as they ran out the back door.

“Hey! You can’t have all of them to yourselves!” I yelled out, chasing after them.

I huffed, finally catching the little rascal with many, many snacks stuffed in his cheeks. Both of us sitting on the grassy ground, his deep blue eyes looking up at me with a grin on his face.

“I believe that’s enough for you tonight.” I sighed as Salem looked like a little chipmunk as he was still eating the sweets in his mouth.

Salem tried to say something, but it came out muffled. Though knowing my own child and any other child. They like to reject such an opposing statement to them.

“You finally caught the boy, huh?” Clyde wheezed, clearly underestimating what kind of speed and stamina Salem had. Especially on sugar.

“I hope you found your fun in letting him eat a bag of sweets, copper.” I grumbled, trying to get a buzzing Salem to sit still with my hold. “Before dinner too.”

“Haha, sorry?” Clyde apologized, putting his hand on his neck and leaning over, out of breath.

“Wait— Salem!” I yelled out as Salem escaped my hold, running towards the forest behind the house. “Come back!”

Pushing off the ground, I ran after Salem. His little giggles echoing through the forest. If the sun wasn’t resting, I would have thought his escapade would be fun, but since it wasn’t my worry skyrocketed.

“Salem! Please stop running!” I shouted out to him, barely keeping an eye on him as the sky got darker. The thickening of the flora not helping either. “Salem!”

Losing sight of my child. I slid to a halt in the middle of the forest and turned around in every direction he could have gone, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh, him and Clyde were not to ever touch the snack cupboard again.

“Salem!” I called out for him again. Hearing his giggles off in the distance. A shimmer of white catching my eye. “Salem! Come back–”

Choking on my own air, a low growl came next to my ear. My hands desperately trying to get a grip on this guy's armor. Gaining another low growl going through my ear, but then replaced by a quiet, reassuring purr.

“Hey there! Mind giving that child over?” I heard the voice of Clyde, my head turning to look where he was speaking from.

Clyde received a growl in return, the being behind me tensing up. Their gauntlets trying not to squeeze me like an otter popsicle.

“Come one now, don’t be like that. His mother is worried for him.” Clyde responded, shifting his weight. Was that… was that a Gray knight?

“Where is she?” The knight rumbled, his tone clarifying that he was not in the mood to play games. Yet it sent a familiar tingle down my spine. Did I know this Astartes?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about there knight.” Clyde said, shifting his weight again as the knight growled again, clearly not liking that as an answer.

“Look I just want–”

I jumped in the beings hold, my eyes widening in shock as the knight thrusted his sword through Clyde's body. His blood staining the ground behind him as he coughed. Clyde's hand coming up to grasp at the sword through his body. Slowly looking up between the sword and the knight before the knight pulled upward, splitting the man into two, bloody halves.

The being above me shook and kept squeezing their gauntlets hard enough that it formed a strong bruise on my skin before they took off with me in their arms.

“What are you doing?!” I shouted at the being, pounding back onto their armor. Catching the glimpse of the gray knights' visor looking at me. “Put me down!”

I needed my son! He can’t be in their hands!

“Let me go!” I shouted again, trying to wiggle free from his firm grip. “Put me down–!”

The world became a blur for a moment. My body suddenly slammed into the ground, a cry ripping through my throat. Searing heat going through my shoulder and leg. Metal clanking upon metal sounding out. What the hell just happened?

Trying to flip around on my stomach. I cried out again, the sudden pain making it unbearable to move, but I still tried. They were taking me away from my son.

I huffed, tears slowly flowing down my cheeks at the effort of trying to move my injured body. My eyes looking up at the scene before me as I used one on my knees and hand to support my body. Two Astartes going at one another. One of them shifting color before they were thrown into a tree, snapping it in half.

I hissed as the one who threw that other Astartes into the tree bent down to pick me up and started running again. A big headache starting to form.

“Mother?” I heard Salem faintly call out before he cried. “Mother?!”

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XVI

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XIV

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #tw: violence #oc: Clyde #oc: Dacre #dark angel #some f*cky goin’ on #polygamy #polyandry #polygynandry #old post #older post #astartes x reader #space marine x reader #tw: yandere #adeptus astartes

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jewbeloved · 8 months

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Hi I have to things to ask of you 1.the red panda ask is not working for some reason an I really want to read it because I love your work and 2. Do you think you can do a Encanto reader I would like Isabela powers please for Stan group with butters or Craig gang.

Ps your a great writer 😉

Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Tolkien, Jimmy, and Butters with a s/o who can make flowers grows like Isabella🌸💐🌺💖💖

My red panda post has been fixed, thank you for informing me.

Warnings: None

Gender: Neutral

💙 Craig Tucker 🐹

He low-key finds that special power ability of yours adorable.

He would probably melt if he found out you made a flower vase with the colors that matches his everyday outfit. Blue and Yellow.

Stripe also loves the flowers you make too! You and Craig would find she/he sleeping in a flower pile you left behind when you last used your power.

Cue you and Craig taking multiple pictures of Stripe sleeping in the flower pile📸📸📸📸

You would use your power to make flower crowns, necklaces, and wrist bands too! Craig would definitely wear it wherever he goes. He doesn't care if his friends tease him for it.

They wouldn't be teasing him if they had a s/o who had such a unique ability that can make pretty flowers. They're missing out, but Craig wouldn't tell them or anyone about your special ability.

Unless you're okay with it, your secrets are always safe with Craig. He can promise you that <3💙💙💙🌸🌸

💛 Tweek Tweak 🍪

Oh Jesus! this poor boy freaked out the first time you showed him your power. I mean can you blame him? It's not everyday you see someone randomly make flowers bloom outta nowhere!

Please reassure him that you're not a sorceress. (Tweek....why?😭)

He is okay with it, at least it's not something evil or else he's gonna freak out.

Flowers aren't evil right? well....some can be like the venus one. But it's okay! You wouldn't use your power to harm your boyfriend in any way!

Would be impressed if you made a flower bloom with coffee beans inside of it (not meth, just your regular coffee beans you would find on trees like the ones in Jamaica)

Author note: THEY TASTE GOOD! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU BOIL IT IN A POT AND IT BECOMES TEA!❤️❤️❤️

Okay sorry I didn't mean to bore you guys with that ;-;

Ehm, anyways.

If Tweek actually made coffee with the beans from the flower you bloomed, he would be amazed with how it tastes so much better then the meth his parents put in his coffee! He might get used to this.

Tweek is now interested in your ability, please show him what else you can do with those flowers of yours :3💛💛💛💛

❤️ Clyde Donovan 💧

You aren't gonna bloom onions, right?

"CLYDE! THERES NO SUCH THING AS ONION FLOWERS!!".

"WAAAH IM SORRY N/N!!"

Definitely loves your ability and the flowers you bloom. He secretly might use the flowers and mix them into perfume.

But you would know what scent is because you know all of the flowers that you bloom. He can't fool you can he?

Would cry if you make him accessories that are made from your flowers, it's not everyday he gets a gift from anyone.

He'll wear the flower accessory, but never in front of his friends. (HE HAS HIS REASONS OKAY?! LEAVE HIM ALONE😭😭😭 definitely not because he teased Craig and now he doesn't want to get teased himself).

Whenever he's crying (if he had a bad day or rough time) you would try your best to make him happy again by putting on a show for him like making your flowers move in a silly way to cheer him up.

But if he faked cried just to get to see your ability again if you weren't using it for a while...you'd turn your back and ignore him for a few hours. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

💜 Tolkien Black 💸 (Yes I figured I was pronouncing his name wrong this entire time 😭)

He found it strange how someone is capable of making flowers bloom randomly whenever they please, but who is he to judge you? Definitely Cartman would but Tolkien wouldn't allow him to do that.

As a matter of fact, how the hell did the fat ass find out about your ability? Did he spy on you and Tolkien? He better not say a word or you will barrage his mouth shut with flowers.

If you made a huge flower field in a secret place where nobody can find it. You and Tolkien would play around in it for hours as if you guys were swimming in a pool. <3

Flower dates if you made it possible!

His parents would be confused if they see a random flower on the wall in his room and he would make up an excuse like: "Sorry mom and dad, I thought it would be nice to pick out a flower and put it on my wall...". HE WOULD BE SHOCKED IF THEY ACTUALLY BELIEVE THAT RIDICULOUS LIE!!.

But that's fine, you both can play around with your flower ability in Cartman's treehouse without him knowing💜💜💜💜💜

💛 Jimmy Valmer 🍭

I think he just found a new muse for his silly jokes. Haha with that aside he really loves your ability as well! You make a lot of colorful flowers that some people probably can't resist.

Probably made a joke about steroids while mixing with it flowers. that was a one-time joke since he didn't know what other kind of joke to make with steroids.

You suspected he probably made that steroid joke because he was taking them again💀 so you decided to hide all of the steroids in flower piles so he couldn't go on steroids anymore! ☺️

But yeah, he loves your flowers and accessories you make with them to give to him! Probably brags to Timmy about it everytime you make something for him.

Would be surprised if you bloom a flower that squirts water out like those prank outfits with the flower on them💛💛💛💛💛

💛 Butters Scotch 🍓

"Oh my (Name)! that's a really mighty special thingy you have right there! can you show me more of it?".

Show. Butters. Right. Now.

He became addicted to seeing your ability. Let him see more beautiful flowers bloom! :D

Whenever he's grounded in his room and can't come out. You would sneak him out of the window

And take him to a special place that you created for you and him. He would be ecstatic to see a huge amount of flowers around everywhere! It makes him feel like he's living in a fantasy world where all of the flowers are huge!

He would store every accessories you make them for him in a vase where his parents won't find out about.

Thinking about it, this makes him want to get you a ring that has flowers on it for the day he wants to marry you when you both get older.💛💛💛💛

HELP I HAVE A NEW HYPER FIXATION! ❤️💛💙 (These 3 hearts should hint it 😌)

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southangel · 2 months

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Masterlist

Stan Marsh

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Younger Sibling HCs (platonic)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Their Child HCs (platonic)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Twin Sibling HCs (platonic)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Kid In Fights HCs (platonic)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Younger Sibling HCs (platonic) (POST-COVID)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader Scared of the Dark HCs (romantic)

Stan Marsh x GN!Reader NSFW Alphabet (romantic)

Stan Marsh x Fem!Reader Touch Starved HCs (romantic)

Kyle Broflovski

Kyle Broflovski x GN!Reader Their Child HCs (platonic)

Kyle Broflovski x GN!Reader Twin Sibling HCs (platonic)

Kyle Broflovski x GN!Reader NSFW Alphabet (romantic)

Kenny Mccormick

Kenny Mccormick x GN!Reader Their Child HCs (platonic)

Kenny Mccormick x GN!Reader Twin Sibling HCs (platonic)

Kenny Mccormick x GN!Reader Kid In Fights HCs (platonic)

Kenny Mccormick x GN!Reader Scared of the Dark HCs (romantic)

Kenny Mccormick x GN!Reader NSFW Alphabet (romantic)

Kenny Mccormick x Fem!Reader Touch Starved HCs (romantic)

Eric Cartman

Eric Cartman x GN!Reader Younger Sibling HCs (platonic)

Eric Cartman x GN!Reader Their Child HCs (platonic)

Eric Cartman x GN!Reader Twin Sibling HCs (platonic)

Eric Cartman x GN!Reader Kid In Fights HCs (platonic)

Eric Cartman x GN!Reader Younger Sibling HCs (platonic) (POST-COVID)

Butters Stotch

Butters Stotch x Fem!Reader Adopted Sibling HCs (platonic) (POST-COVID)

Craig Tucker

Craig Tucker x GN!Reader SFW and NSFW HCs (romantic)

Craig Tucker x GN!Reader SFW and NSFW HCs (romantic) (Yandere)

Tweek Tweak

nothing yet..

Clyde Donovan

nothing yet..

Wendy Testaburger

Wendy Testaburger x Fem!Reader Touch Starved HCs (romantic)

Poly Relationships

nothing yet..

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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A Clyde (South Park) concept please!

I'm probably the only one but I really do like Clyde- I love the main four/five boys but I also like Craig's gang, lol. Aged up as usual, takes place after high school/during the end of high school are mentioned like some other fics.

Yandere! Clyde Donovan Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Flirting, Stalking mention, Emotional manipulation, Dubious relationship at times, Kidnapping, Dependency issues, Clingy behavior, Mental breakdown implied.

Clyde's character is meant to be based off of jocks from what I've seen.

Which means it would make sense if during high school he was a jock.

He's not the most intelligent in his classes, arrogant, bit into flirting, emotional at times, but has times where he's nice and caring.

Clyde most likely met and fell for you during his time in high school.

He was failing his classes and needed help.

You were one of the smarter kids in his class, or at least average in terms of grades, so you offer to help tutor.

Not wanting to fail... Clyde agrees.

Which leads to Clyde falling for you because you helped him.

He definitely fits the jock x nerd dynamic with his darling in this concept.

Although he's nerdy himself, too.

Clyde is Flirtatious, Obsessive, Self-absorbed, Slightly manipulative, Jealous, and Emotional.

I will admit the fandom makes him too emotional at times.

However, I also can't deny the fact he does cry sometimes.

Clyde during his high school days felt he was hot stuff.

He thinks you'll fall for him easily if he gives you some sweet words and longing looks.

You don't.

You just want to be his friend and help him not fail.

Clyde finds this irritable but listens to you chat with a sigh.

He may not understand what you're saying yet your voice sounds lovely.

There's a good chance after the tutor sessions you two stay friends.

When you find out about Clyde's love of movies you two bond even more.

He gets really nervous and tries to clean his room when you come over....

It's funny how despite Clyde seeming like a jock... he's also got similar interests to you.

As high school goes on you and Clyde remain very close friends.

Not like you could abandon him now anways, his grades tank when you do.

You become a big help to him getting through high school.

Even when you're not hanging out Clyde breaks off from his normal friend group to watch you.

He crushes hard on you but doesn't let anyone else know.

He'd be relentlessly picked on.

Admittedly he tries to justify his obsessive crush on you with thinking you love him the same.

You most likely don't (at this time).

Despite this he still remembers where you live... your classes... everything he can about you.

He remembers those details, not his classwork....

Clyde may also be the type to tug on his darling's emotions.

He himself is very emotionally driven, he'd think he can use your sympathy against you.

This is another way he keeps you with him during school.

A few well placed tears here... maybe a breakdown there... he learns to master it.

You have no idea he's playing into your heart to get you to care for him.

How you two start dating and his obsession speeds up can happen a few ways

You date before you graduate and continue after graduation.

You date before you graduate, break up, then meet up again after high school.

Or you never date until after high school.

Either way, Clyde gets a bit desperate.

You're both adults now and Clyde obsessively wants to spend his time with you.

If you're dating before and after high school then he doesn't worry as much.

Clyde is happy he doesn't have to part with you after graduation.

He calls and texts you often, telling you how much he loves you for helping him and coming into his life.

He's clingy, often craving warmth and contact with you.

At this point he only needs to worry about preserving his relationship with you.

Same thing if he decides to date you after high school.

He confesses his feelings and you accept, leading you to date.

Again, all Clyde needs to do is keep the relationship alive.

If you break up or reject him... there's more drama.

You have to block him on your phone as every message is him begging for you to forgive him and take him back.

He's become so reliant on you he hates the idea of letting you go.

You have to lock your door and threaten to call the cops as Clyde will not step away from your outside door.

Meanwhile Clyde is pouting at you through the window, begging to be let in.

In moments like this... Clyde would cry.

It would be in character for him to cry if he couldn't have you.

He would not leave outside your house until someone drags him off.

You'll get increasingly more scared and annoyed at hearing him sob outside in the cold.

Once he leaves... you feel relief.

Until your old high school friend breaks into your house and abducts you.

You're terrified when a gloved hand covers your mouth, eyes wide and shushing you.

"It's okay... I just need to see you.... I can't live without you...!"

Some way or another, Clyde will make you his.

He's very affectionate towards you when you're together.

He loves to talk to you, hold you, kiss you, anything physical works with him.

He wants to feel hands on his face... praising him.

After high school Clyde always managed you two together.

Be it in each other's arms...

Or cuffed together.

He doesn't care either way.

If anyone tried to disagree with your relationship Clyde may try to fight them.

He's caring with you!

They should mind their business!

He isn't a big fighter but he'd do it enough to keep you with him.

Overall, Clyde just wants to spend his days after schooling with you.

He'll sit you down under the blankets, cooing about how much he adores you as he plays his favorite movie...

With hand cuffs keeping you in place beside him.

#yandere south park #yandere aged up south park #yandere clyde donovan

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hime-bee · 6 months

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what if leu known y/n to be the literal definition of an angel. They’re hard working, kind even to people even though they might not deserve it (like their boss), always helping someone out, and naive. Basically the type to never hurt a fly but then he sees them knocking someone out/killing them/dragging a body etc and they don’t notice leu. How would his views change about his beloved? Would he find them disgusting? would he reveal more of himself to them? I adore your blog and look forward to any updates ♥️💙 have a wonderful day

Thank you for enjoying my blog and sending in an ask, dear anon! 😊

To answer your question, if Leumin saw that his beloved had hurt/killed someone, then I think his first thought would be "why"? He certainly wouldn't be put off by this, though, because it's not like he's the leading role in moral authority either 😂 Regardless, I think he would still see them as an angel and would do more research into their personal life while also trying to get closer to them romantically

#this sounds like it could get kinda messy tho LOL #like a real Bonnie and Clyde situation oops #Leumin Holiday #inclement idée fixe #yandere #male yandere

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voidless-night · 1 year

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How do yanderes react to reader saying love them?

𝓘 𝓪𝓹��𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓲𝔃𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓮, 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝓾𝓼𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮. 𝓝𝓸𝔀, 𝓵𝓮𝓽’𝓼 𝓪𝓼𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓭.

A/N: The reader is gender-neutral!

ᴛᴡ: ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢɢɪɴɢ, ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ.

Clyde /Your Yandere Childhood Friend/

Malfunctioned most probably.

After the day you two reunited, he promised to make you his again– just like the promise you made! (Did you forget about it? Don’t worry, he’ll make sure it’ll happen then)

After processing what he heard, he'll want you to repeat it again because he didn’t listen to it at first but he really did hear it.

Will reconsider about making your food, what did he do? Nothing! Just added a few new ingredients (Beware that lately, you’ve forgotten a lot of stuff recently, Clyde told you that the things you forgot are nothing important)

Will he continue to isolate you? Of course! You already claimed to love him back, he doesn’t wanna lose you again.

He would never leave your side and is more protective than ever, whatever or whatever person has come near you, you can’t help but feel the atmosphere shift.

Will always say “I love you” more often just to hear it again.

“You already said you love me back, that is enough– enough for me to know that you have accepted my feelings, so you don’t need anyone else, k? Nobody knows you better than I do.”

Faren / Your Yandere Elf Prince/

After taking you in, falling into obsession, and wanting you to be by his side forever (Till death? Let’s see about that) and now he finally has you!

He is excited! Now that you feel the same way as him, the wedding will be set!

Will immediately take (kidnap) you to the room he has been preparing for months for you.

Will spoil you even more! Just say the word and he will get it or order his people to get it for you (Besides your freedom to leave the room)

Though the security will be high because he knows how humans tend to change their decisions in some cases.

He will be more affectionate and clingy when he comes to visit you in your room and be more touchy with you, sometimes even talking about making/adopting children for the family, or maybe just the two of you... His castle is better.

“Leave? Why do you want to leave my precious treasure, everything you need is within this room. If you wish to see the plants, I can make you your own garden. If you're not satisfied with the food, I’ll replace my chefs and get new ones. So please you do not need to leave your room, don’t leave my side, okay? I love you my treasure.”

#oc yandere #tw yandere #x reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #Faren #Clyde

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csrcreations · 7 months

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Halloween Countdown 2023

Day 5 Stalker’s Tango by Autoheart

Featuring Shay & Clyde from Tints of Black

#horror #halloween #halloween countdown #yandere #inktober #goth #drawtober 2023 #drawtober #inktober 2023 #tints of black #shay #shay foster #Clyde #Clyde attaway #stalker #serial killer #stalker’s tango #tango

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winged-self-indulgence · 5 months

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Why Do People Like Yanderes?

Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.

TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.

Introduction

If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).

It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.

Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?

Hybristophilia

‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):

“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”

In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.

However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:

Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them

If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.

Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.

(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)

After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”

But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.

Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.

The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.

The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.

Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?

The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)

It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.

PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.

But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.

In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.

Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?

I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?

No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.

This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.

So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.

When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.

While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.

Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.

Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)

Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.

In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?

If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”

Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.

Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.

Conclusion

In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.

Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below

REFERENCES

Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406

Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191

DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545

Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123

Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212

Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture

Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.

Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf

Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092

Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.

Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101

#reference list is completed!#yandere #sunny day jack #my dear hatchet man #mdhm #stnaf #ddlc #john doe #boyfriend to death #tpof #degrees of lewdity #your boyfriend #14dwy #br<3ken colors #camp willowpeak #br0ken colors #obey me #favour vn #binary star hero

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

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Yandere Manager When You Call in Sick

“Wait what!?”

Your eyes are so heavy you can barely see

Your body too is like concrete

And the Hot and Cold chills changing from an inescapable savanna to the North side of the Arctic

It’s honestly a miracle you were able to call at all

For all his nagging and disturbing actions for the time being he is your official boss

It would be unprofessional not to say something

You also must be in such a haze because you only called him and not the assistant manager

After you make the call, you return to the pillow and you slip back into a feverish sleep

Of course unbeknownst to you the Manager is losing it

The other employees have probably gotten the gist after he launched a chair into the breakroom wall and began angrily mumbling to himself

“B-b-boss, why don’t you go visit them? Like, offer to take care of them!”

“Y-y-yeah j-j-j-ust give us the keys for lock up and you can go pick up some soup for them or something. Y-you still have their key right?”

Like an instant change of night and day, the Manager is all smiles as he easily wrenches the chair from the new hole in the wall

“Thanks, guys! I promise not to secretly apply those pay cuts I wanted to. I’ll also be sure to give you a pizza party. And for good measure, I won’t slash your tires. ”

“What?!” “Wait–”

“Toodaloo!”

With a skip in his step, Clyde is on his way to your house after visiting the local pharmacy and employing his manager's discount

Ie: blackmail

“Honey, I’m home! Have you eaten today? Drink any water?”

If it weren’t for the attempts at getting this man off your property

But of course, he’ll stroll in with his copied key of yours

And for once you’ll probably appreciate it

Massages or icepack or heating pad whatever you want he pampers you beyond compare

Taking advantage of your feverish disposition to lick kiss the sweat on your body

“You’re so sweet, Honey! Even when your sick!”

After a swab on the inside of your cheek don’t ask why he wanted that+

And a little cuddle

Then he starts doing your chores

Clothes, food prep, organizing, cleaning

He gets to work

Taking the dirty undergarments or sucking on your toothbrush as compensation

It’s a nervous habit

Where he keeps himself busy because staring at your labored breathing scares him

He’ll pop into check on you but for his health he can’t be by your side 24/7

At the end of the day, if your temperature hasn’t gone down, he might call his special doctor

Now don’t try asking for their credentials–they’ll just ignore you

But they’ll make sure you’ll pull through from this

“How are you feeling, my love? Better?”

“W-what are you doing in my house?”

“Now do you want takeout or homemade chili? Also, I don’t approve of your shift changes so you’ll have to come in your usual times.”

When you are well enough to physically push him out he’ll start concluding his visit

“GET OUT! And don’t come back!”

“So mean! You’re lucky I don’t dock your pay right now!”

For all his whining he is quite pleased

The haul was magnificent this time around

Part of its charm is the fact that you were in the house when he stole it

“Ah what a good day….it’s almost so good maybe I won’t slash my employees' tires anyway…,,,who am I kidding? That’s the best part of the weekend!”

More of Yandere Manager

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere manager #yandere manager oc #yandere manager oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere original character #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n

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inklore · 9 months

Text

🩸 — 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍!

since the spooky season is fast approaching, and as a little kinktober appetizer, @psychedelic-ink and i have decided to do a little writing challenge to get us all excited and in the mood to be gripping the sheets from the spooky thrills of course.

and to keep this fun we have given you many many options! we have compiled a twelve day prompts list you can go by, or if that's not your thing we have listed twenty three different pick and choose options to create whatever kind of fic you want, even if you want to do half the days daily prompts but switch out this prompt dialogue for that au or trope or kink, you can literally do whatever your heart desires!

THE RULES.

the challenge will go on from the 19th - 30th of this month. you can do as many or as little amount of days as you choose.

any fandoms are welcome, literally any characters, ships, but please no rpf.

no minors should be interacting with let alone posting for this challenge.

dark content, light content, dubcon/noncon, is all welcomed but please tag everything accordingly. grooming, underage, and incest however are not allowed.

there are no word limits but please use that readmore.

tag #hauntedhoedown so we can read and reblog your work!

DAY ONE: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

DAY TWO: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

DAY THREE: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song (if not a lana fan then any fav song of yours) + stalker / yandere au or love triangle gone wrong

DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

DAY FIVE: gothic au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.” + a masquerade au or a good ol' priest au

DAY SIX: animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect"

DAY SEVEN: stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

DAY EIGHT: cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

DAY NINE: “do you like it when i bleed for you?” + the toxic exes trope or cult au

DAY TEN: zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

DAY ELEVEN: black swan au or inspired by your fav psychological thriller + “they die for love, you kill for it.”

DAY TWELVE: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

if following the above isn't your thing and you want to pick and choose yourself that's great! we also highly rec this random generator if you wanna live life by the edge, each category has 23 options to pick and choose from so customize the generator accordingly!

AUs:

steampunk / cyber punk

fairytale retelling

revenge

mythology / monster

virtual reality

gothic

taboo (see great options here)

slasher

game gone wrong

witchcraft

addams family

bonnie and clyde

spy / secret agent

assassins

x-files

circus / carnival

hitch hiking

basement wife

time travel

urban legend(s)

american horror story inspired

vampire / supernatural

pirate / mermaid

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

"i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it."

“this fear you feel? it won't last.”

“you are mine, whether you agree or not.”

“why do you keep following me?”

"i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together."

"you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

"i'm so close, can you feel it?"

"tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it, no matter the cost."

"you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left."

"i want to see you bleed."

"they're dead...because of you."

“i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

“everything i've done.. every horrible atrocity, it's been for you.”

"it's just a little blood."

“don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

“i would burn the world for you.”

"this is so fucked up." "you like it."

"finders keepers."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

"tell me you want me back. tell me i'm forgiven."

"you're a monster." "that's never stopped you before."

"i've killed for you, who else can say that?"

TROPES:

mob / mafia

soft!dark

dubcon / noncon

soulmate / fated mates

mind control / telepathy

cheating

final girl

once is not enough

haunted manor

dark academia

enemies to lovers

haunted object

vengeful ghost

coven

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

unrequited love

creation / creator vs monster

'i'll find you in every universe / century'

reverse harem

cursed / fuck or die

curiosity killed the cat

theatre phantom

fate worse than death

KINKS:

biting

corruption / authoritarian

somnophilia

begging

dacryphilia

breath play

knife play / blood play

jealousy / sharing / possessive

aphrodisiacs

hunter / prey

humiliation / degradation

mirror sex

deprivation / immobilized / bondage

costume

size

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

body worship

shotgunning / swallowing / facial

gagging

torture / surrender

hate sex / make up sex / phone sex

magical healing [redacted]

soft!dom / pleasure!dom

ETC PROMPTS:

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

1970s porno filming (turned into a blood bath)

touch her and die except who the hell are you and why are you obsessed with me?

a trip to the circus (or carnival) ends with you stuck there...forever

you just inherited this creepy mansion where people where murdered what could go wrong?

a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon

if 'this person' ever found out about this they would kill both of us (literally)

oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

passionate professor tells me to prove my devotion to the craft / class by doing something insane

we're the last people on the planet and you will be mine

daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late

i got casted out of my world and ended up wounded and bloodied in your backyard, convince me why i shouldn't destroy your world out of anger

vampire has a taste for specific blood and looks like you have it

the creepy neighbor is too hot to be insane, right?

i keep seeing them in my dreams and i wake up with bruises and marks on my skin, it's definitely just wild dreams, right?

loving you is easier than hating you

got stranded in some little town that seems so cute, until night hits

'this person' ordered me to kill you but i actually think i'm in love with you

my lover is wearing the same costume as you and i can't tell the difference but i'm pretty sure it's them i'm fucking in this closet...pretty sure

confessing to a murder via a silly little ghost story around a campfire (but someone reads through the lies)

how far would you go for love? for the one you love?

in a past life you were the cause of my death so i'm here to exact revenge now that i've found you

we're at a fun little horror movie reenactment except people are really dying

we tried to make this writing challenge as fun and very 'choose your own adventure-like' as much as possible because we know how hard it is to stay motivated when doing these things.

so please feel free to use any and all of the prompts, tropes, kinks, etc as you wish. we're just super excited to see what ya'll come up with!!

so good luck and stay slutty spooky <3

#if yall don't participate in this i will actually cry lmao #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #kinktober #! challenges

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 | eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | maybe you're a little spoiled, but the fact of the matter is, you're used to getting what you want. you want eddie, and he wants you— that means you're going to do whatever it takes to stay together. if only you knew how far he would go to keep you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | 8.6k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | smut (18+ only; including some dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, and referenced loss of virginity), graphic violence/murder, kidnapping, abusive parents (verbal and briefly physical), innocent reader, innocence/corruption kink, assorted crimes escalating in severity, controlling/toxic relationship, starts consensual gets fucked up quickly, yandere!eddie, romeo and juliet goes bonnie and clyde

THIS IS A DARK FIC. eddie's dark, smut's dark, whole thing's dark (by the end at least). it's not for everyone. if depictions of SA, murder, and manipulation sound like they might be triggering for you, please do not hit 'keep reading'.

"That boy is no good for you," she hissed. "That boy is no good at all."

"Mama, don't say that!" you whined, sounding just like the impetuous child she'd accused you of being moments earlier. "He's good to me and he loves me!"

"He's good to you because he wants something from you," she insisted. "He says he loves you because—"

"He doesn't just say he loves me," you interrupted. "He really does, Mama."

"Oh, does he?" she sneered, stepping up closer to you. "He doesn't only love you with words, does he? What else does he do?"

Her line of questioning made it obvious that she already knew. The terror of that realization made your eyes sting with tears.

"Don't tell me you spread your legs for trailer trash," your mother warned, and your fists clenched at your sides. Rage gave you the courage to look into her eyes and you found her own fury there— but it couldn't beat yours, not when you had your love for Eddie in your heart, telling you what to do.

"He made love to me," you informed her though your teeth, "and I—"

You didn't get a chance to finish your thought before the back of your mother's hand collided with your cheek, spinning your whole head to the side. It stung especially hard where her massive diamond ring had cut your face, and when you pulled your hand away from where it held your tingling skin, you saw little dots of blood on your fingers.

You started to sob loudly, so much louder than you already had. You were crying so hard you couldn't even form words.

"Okay, that's enough," your father decides, getting up from where he'd been sitting in his chair, staring disapprovingly at all that had been going on. When you told your parents that Eddie Munson was your boyfriend and that you would not be attending equestrian summer camp in Cape Cod this year because you wanted to stay with him, your mother was the one who had flown into hysterics while your father had just sighed and sat down, looking overwhelmed. You didn't see him looking like that too often, since he was such a respected businessman who handles so much every day, but it made sense that he was out of his element here.

"Daddy," you sobbed, running to him and colliding with his sweater-vest-clad torso, "Daddy, please, I love him…"

"I… I know, sweetpea," he sighed, "but… sometimes what we feel and what is expected of us don't….match up."

You buried your face into his chest, soaking the argyle cotton with your tears. "Daddy, he's not a bad person. He's so kind and he takes care of me—"

You heard your mother scoff, but thankfully she didn't interrupt you.

"You'd like him if you met him," you promised, pulling back enough to look at your father with hopeful, if teary and bloodshot, eyes. "Daddy, if you really gave him a chance—"

"Sweetpea," he said, such an adoring pet name losing its charm when he said it so sternly, "it's too late for that. You had sex with this boy, didn't you?"

You choked, looking away.

"Just don't make me go to camp this year, please," you sighed. "Please, Daddy, I wanna stay in Hawkins—"

"So you can do what? Spend more time with this boy who doesn't even have the respect to come speak to me himself and ask me for permission to court you?" he frowned. "Ride around in his decrepit van? Get pregnant?"

You let go of the tight hug you'd had him in; you'd spent your life crying to your Daddy about whatever upset you, and up until now, you'd pretty much always gotten your way. Eddie used to make fun of you, call you Daddy's little girl, call you spoiled rotten— but you never really understood what that meant, until now. Until you felt so stupid as you realized he wasn't as kind as you thought he was. He'd buy you anything, he'd let you skip a Latin lesson because you wanted to run around outside or not eat your greens because you didn't like them, but that wasn't love. You always thought he was proud of you, and that was why he liked to show you off at debutante balls and dinner parties.

But it had never been about you… it had been about him, and his perfect family. His beautiful wife and demure, well-behaved daughter. You were more like a porcelain doll to him, dressed up in little silk outfits and put behind glass.

You stepped back, bewildered and heartbroken by the way he was looking at you.

"You asked not to go to Cape Cod this summer? You won't," he informed you, but his tone made it obvious this was not going to be good news. "You'll go to a Catholic program for wayward girls—"

"No," you blurted out, under your breath.

"In rural France—" he continued.

You couldn't breathe, you felt like you were going to faint. "No, no no no…"

"—where you can practice your French, relearn your morals," he added, especially pointedly, "and spend time with the nuns. They'll set you straight."

"Daddy, no!" you yelped. "I won't go! You can't make me go!"

"I absolutely can!" he bellowed in return. Daddy was scary when he was angry, his voice was loud and echoed around any room, and you'd always run away and hid when you heard him yelling at a business partner who made a mistake or a housekeeper who broke something… but the way he spoke next was nothing like that. No yelling, no stomping his foot or pointing his finger, just a red face and breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. It was much scarier.

"If you act like a whore, you get treated like one," he informed you with searing coldness. "You remember that when you're with that boy, telling him that you will never see him again—"

"I hate you!" you choked out with your sob, shoving your father away before running for the door.

You heard your parents calling after you, but you tumbled out onto the porch and down the steps, grabbing your bike where you'd left it leaning against the whitewashed wood.

It was sort of tricky to ride a bike while constantly wiping tears away, but you made it all the way to Eddie's trailer without falling off. You nearly jumped off your bike to run to his door, never properly braking and just letting it fall on its side— the little bell dinged quietly when you dropped it, like a weak protest to the mistreatment, but you ignored it as you stumbled up to Eddie's door and knocked frantically.

It was a little too cold out for just your yellow dress and a cardigan, but you hadn't been planning to be out this late. You'd been planning on getting out of going to summer camp in Massachusetts, going to bed with a smile on your face, and waiting until after school tomorrow to tell Eddie the good news. God, you were so stupid…

Shivering and clutching your arms across your chest, you knocked rapidly on the door again— and Eddie finally swung the door open.

"I was just— oh, princess, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching for you instantly as you started to cry harder again. "Are you okay? Please tell me everything's okay…"

"Everything's…" you started, sniffling and trying to compose yourself enough to speak intelligibly while he ushered you inside, "everything's gone wrong, Eddie, it's so wrong…"

"Hey, shh," he soothed, pulling you into him and guiding your head to rest on his chest. His hands rubbed your back and you sighed, melting into him. "Just tell me what happened."

"I-it was going to be a surprise," you explained. "I was going to get out of equestrian camp this summer, and I was going to stay here— with you! We were gonna have the whole summer together… a-and it was gonna be perfect."

Eddie sighed; he must've realized where this was going, to a certain extent.

"But when I asked my parents if I could miss camp and stay home, they… Mama knew, she asked about you right away… I'm not much of a liar, Eddie, you know that."

In fact, he told you all the time: I know something's wrong, don't try to pretend. You're not a very good liar, princess, I know you want me. Don't lie, princess, I can tell you're getting wet…

"She said the most awful things," you whimpered, "and Daddy… he said he was going to make me go to France, just to keep me away from you. H-he called me a whore."

"He what?!" Eddie snapped, lifting your head away from his chest to look down at your face with wild eyes. "Princess, how could he say that to you?"

"I— I don't—"

You stopped when he reached up, holding your face and carefully swiping his thumb over your right cheek. You remembered there were cuts there, and you glanced down at the floor sheepishly, focusing on his dirty combat boots standing on either side of your shiny white Mary Janes. "Did he hit you?" Eddie asked, seriously and softly.

"No…" you whimpered, getting nervous to tell him the truth as he waited silently for the rest of your answer. "Mama did."

He sighed slowly, saying so much with just one breath. You'd realized you'd never really seen him angry before, not genuinely. But the weight of his breath showed how furious he was. "Those people…" he trailed off. Shaking his head, the anger seemed to fade and he gave you a gentle kiss right on your wounded cheek. "This pretty face, all cut up… it's just not right, princess."

You shut your eyes as he kissed your lips next, as tender and gentle as ever. If only your parents could see this, if only they could understand how sweet and patient he was with you, then maybe they wouldn't be trying to ruin your life.

"I can't let you go back to that house," he informed you. "If you go back there, they may not ever let you back out again— they won't let us see each other again."

You blinked up at him as he carefully wiped your tears away.

"So, don't go back," he pleaded. "They'll hurt you again— I can't let that happen."

You chewed your lip for a second. "Eddie, I can't stay here, they're going to send the police for me— they probably already have…"

"Then they won't find us here," he decided. "We'll go somewhere!"

"Where?"

"Anywhere! Wherever you wanna go. We'll drive there together and it'll be the way it's meant to be— us, just us."

He pulled your face closer and kissed your forehead, squishing your cheeks in his ringed hands. "Eddie," you mumbled, wincing playfully. "Are you offering to kidnap me?"

"Offering? Princess, I'm deciding," he grinned, grabbing you at your shoulders as you started to laugh a bit through your tears. "Just tell me where we're going."

You bit your lip as you thought about that. In a way, you were proving your parents right: this boy was about to steal you away, take you far from Hawkins in his beat-up old van, with no money and no plan.

"Come on," he encouraged, "you know just as well as I do that we're meant to be together. Forever."

It was a promise you'd made, just before he took your virginity. You were raised to believe that was something you saved for your soulmate, and though you knew it was certainly not what your parents would want for you, not being married yet didn't bother you much. Before Eddie, waiting never felt like a chore— and then suddenly it was excruciating, and he'd stopped you from taking things further more than a few times due to his fear that you would regret him being your first time. And then there was that perfect night, just over a week ago now, on a blanket by Lover's Lake. It was everything you thought it was supposed to be— sweet, sensual, beautiful— and so much more. And you'd sworn then that this was it, that there was nobody else for you and that you'd hold each other for the rest of your lives. Maybe it was your girlish naivete, but in your mind it was all but an engagement.

And this? Escaping together, fleeing your parents and Hawkins and everything you'd ever known? This felt like eloping.

You looked into Eddie's eyes, warm and brown and waiting for your answer with that sparkle in them like almost always. "Um…" you stalled, "well, when I was little, my whole family went to the beach in California. I've wanted to go back, see the ocean again…"

He grabbed you by your face again and kissed you, eyes shut tight; you could taste his latest cigarette and you could smell his aftershave, you could feel his optimism in the way he moved his lips against yours.

When he pulled back, he had another massive smile on his face that made the anxiety just melt away in a moment.

"Everything's gonna be alright now," he promised. "It's gonna be how it's supposed to be: us, together, with nobody there to stop us."

You nodded, still sniffling as you recovered from crying, and smiled as he kissed your tears away.

"I-I'm just gonna grab some stuff," he decided, "and we're gonna leave tonight. We'll be in California by Saturday."

~ ♡ ~

Not having had a chance to pack your own clothes, you'd been borrowing Eddie's for a while. You didn't exactly feel like yourself in a Motörhead shirt, but you loved being wrapped up in the smell of him.

That first night, Eddie had driven for fifteen hours straight before you insisted that he get some rest. The mattress in the back was straight from his bedroom in the trailer, so it brought some much-needed familiarness to such a foreign situation.

Breakfast at hole-in-the-wall diners all along the highway, stops at scenic outlooks and parks where you could stretch your legs, nights spent pulled over in the woods so you could sleep in peace (or, maybe, not sleep at all)… it was all a routine now, and the luxury of your old life was just a collection of memories now.

At times, you missed your family, your friends from school, your room and your shower and your favorite stuffed animal. But being with Eddie all the time was worth it, and you’d seen more of the country than ever on your road trip adventure.

“Can I help you find something, sweetheart?” a woman asked, and you turned to see an employee with a plastic name tag— DARLA, it read— watching you peruse the aisle of pre-packaged snacks.

“O-oh, no, thank you,” you smiled.

“You seem pretty young to be here by yourself,” she noticed.

“I’m eighteen— and I’m not by myself,” you assured, “my boyfriend’s here— he’s just using the restroom.”

“Oh, I see,” she nodded. “Your… parents know you’re here, don’t they?”

You wrinkled your eyebrows together. “Of course,” you lied, “we’re driving to visit them now, while we’re on break from college. Wh-why do you ask?”

“I’m sorry to pry, honey,” she sighed, “I just saw something on the news, and you look a little bit like this missing girl out of Indiana—”

You didn’t even hear what she said after that, you didn’t even stay to listen— you stormed across the gas station store, towards where a small TV mounted under the corner of the ceiling was showing the morning news. It was just politics at first, until the banner across the bottom of the screen changed to DRUG DEALER KIDNAPS INDIANA GIRL. You nearly screamed when you saw a picture of you, and a picture of Eddie, next to each other in the superimposed graphic.

“This news coming out of Hawkins, Indiana,” the reporter read, “the parents of an eighteen-year-old girl—”

Eighteen, as in, an adult, who left consensually, you wished you could yell at the TV, but all you could do was start to numbly cry.

“— are asking national authorities for assistance in locating their daughter, who disappeared from their home Wednesday evening. Local police suspect that a known criminal in the area, Eddie Munson— who is also missing— may be responsible and is wanted for his potential involvement.”

You saw the door to the men’s room start to open, and before Eddie could walk out, you dashed over to him and shoved him back in, locking the door behind you. “Hey!” Eddie protested, though he gave you a tilted grin as you pinned him to the wall. “Hey,” he purred, apparently misinterpreting your intentions with locking yourselves in the bathroom together.

“Eddie, oh god,” you breathed, “I—”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching down to hold your face. “Did something happen?”

“I— the news,” you managed to choke out, “we’re on the news, they’re saying you kidnapped me—”

“Well, I mean,” he shrugged, “I sorta did—”

“Eddie, please,” you whimpered, “this— this is really bad… the police are looking for us. Both of us.”

You weren’t sure how this happened, but you could guess; the Hawkins police probably, rightfully, told your parents that a woman of majority leaving her parents’ home is not a crime, and neither is having a boyfriend that they dislike. And then your parents flashed their money around until someone listened, and they managed to convince some sheriff that because Eddie had a past with the law, you were in some kind of danger. And then they took their money to any news station that would take it, and spread the story across the country. You were supposed to make it to the beach today, but you weren’t sure if it was safe to go anymore, or where this news was being shown…

“I don’t wanna go back,” you cried quietly, and he clicked his tongue sympathetically as he pulled your head into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he promised, “you’re not going back.”

“They’re gonna find us, Eddie, they’re gonna take me away from you—” you began to rush, your head swirling with thoughts and your heart pounding with anxiety. He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look up at him, and you tried to calm yourself a little with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Nobody can take you away from me,” he insisted sternly. “Ever. Do you hear me?”

You nodded, and he softened a bit, kissing your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

“We’re gonna work this out,” he stated confidently. “We’re gonna figure something out, okay? And everything’s gonna be how it’s supposed to be.”

Quickly, he had a plan, and he told you all you had to do was keep watch. He told you to stand near the back of the gas station, and stop anyone from coming to where he’d parked the van. He never told you why, but you figured it would make sense soon. Nervously tapping your foot, you tried not to look suspicious— or noticeable at all, really, with your face all over the news now— and waited for Eddie to finish whatever he was doing.

You could hear what he was doing, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was… just random clinking and banging of metal, not much to work with. “Okay, finished,” he announced, and you turned the corner to find him smiling as he stared at the back of his van, a screwdriver tucked under his crossed arms. “Voila!”

Stepping next to him and looking at the back bumper with him, you reacted instantly to the sight of a Nevada license plate. “Wh— how did you—?” you began, but you glanced over to a beat-up old truck with a missing tire that was apparently abandoned behind this gas station— specifically, you saw that it suddenly had Indiana plates.

“It’ll slow them down,” he promised, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and giving the top of your head a kiss. “Told you I’d work it all out, didn’t I?”

You swallowed, a little nervous to know he’d had to take these measures for your sake. Up until now, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong… this, though, was an actual crime. Still, a lot of people do little things like this— like dealing weed, like making an illegal U-turn or being late to get their registration done.

That was what you kept telling yourself as you sat in the passenger set, legs curled up to your chest while you bit your nails and blankly watched the Nevada desert roll by: that this was normal. That this was all fine. Not great, maybe, not ideal; but fine.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice, and it tore you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” you mumbled, and he kept his eyes on the road as he swatted your hand away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that,” he corrected.

“Sorry— m’just nervous,” you admitted.

“What for?” he wondered.

“I mean— this is all pretty crazy, Ed,” you admitted. “I knew my parents weren’t going to understand, but getting the police involved? I just didn’t think it would be like this…”

“Listen, princess,” he sighed, “I get it. It’s scary— and your parents, they’ve been, like, over you your whole life, telling you what to say and how to dress and how to conform and everything… so they seem like this huge threat, like you can never really escape them, right? But you can. You did.”

He gave you a glance, as long as he could while driving on the highway, and you offered him your best I’m-totally-not-freaking-out smile in return.

“And the cops? Cops are no big deal,” he scoffed. “Deal with ‘em all the time. Still, if you wanna throw them off a little more, I could always do something to, you know, look different—”

He reached up with one hand to tousle his mane of wavy hair for a second, and you gasped. “No, Eddie,” you interrupted, “not your hair— you shouldn’t have to do that.”

“Okay, okay,” he smiled, “you’d miss it too much, I know. So would I. Maybe we should cut your hair, though…”

You nervously reached up to your own hair, suddenly self-conscious about it in more ways than one. “You think so?” you pressed quietly.

“I mean, if you’re up for it,” he shrugged, “but like I said— we’re gonna be fine. It’s really not that bad, princess— people go ‘missing’ all the time, and they’re really just going somewhere new like we are. And speaking of somewhere new…”

He pointed to the road ahead, and you saw the sign: Thanks for visiting Nevada— and then you saw the next one— Welcome to California.

“We made it,” he smiled. “Just a few more hours until we reach the ocean.”

But the sun had already set, and the last tints of orange were leaving the sky— the desert would be in total darkness in less than ten minutes. “Should we pull over for the night soon?” you asked. Something about being late made you especially nervous, even though if you were thinking more clearly, you might’ve realized that night was the safer time to travel while on the run from the law.

“If you want to,” he offered. “You wanna cuddle, don’t you?”

You nodded, and he smiled wide.

“Of course you do,” he hummed, “just lemme find a good place to park the car and we can go to bed, okay?”

When he pulled off the highway, kicking up clouds of red dirt with his tires on his way to a good, shady spot to rest for the night, you leaned back in the seat and shut your eyes. It’s going to be okay— Eddie said so, it’s really going to be alright…

“Come on, hop on back,” he suggested as he put the car in park and turned off the engine and headlights. You climbed over the console first, plopping down onto the mattress in the back with a sigh. He smiled at you as he followed you, climbing on top of you as his necklace dangled over your face. With his hands on either side of your head, he bent down to kiss you, sweet and familiar; it made you feel better, and took your mind off of your worries.

You reached up to start trying to push his denim jacket off his shoulders, and he moved his kisses down to your neck. “Oh!” you gasped when he grazed his teeth over your pulse. It almost hurt, it was almost too much— but then again, you were wrapping your legs around his hips, so it must not have bothered you that much.

A quiet, but deep, chuckle from him echoed inside the crook of your neck, just before he pulled away to look down at you again. “You look so good in my clothes,” he smiled, reaching up under the borrowed shirt to touch your waist, “but you look better without them.”

You giggled as he helped you take the shirt off, groaning a little at the sight of your bare chest underneath. He instantly latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it as his hands held onto you a little tighter, and you relaxed into his embrace with a sigh.

“Princess,” he mumbled against your skin, reaching lower to start tugging your panties down, “fuck, you’re beautiful. And you’re all mine, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yours— forever.”

You’d started saying that, since the first night on the road; you were just so ecstatic to be together, not having to hide it anymore or worry about your parents or sneak out quietly in the middle of the night. The problem was, that was sort of what this thing had become, in the end: hiding, worrying, sneaking in the middle of the night. Wasn’t that what you were doing right now?

That thought fell to the back of your mind as he gently opened your legs, taking off his own clothes hastily before slotting his body right up to yours. “Eddie,” you moaned as he slid his cock over you, soaking his erection quickly in your arousal. You never kept your resolve for long when he teased you like that. “Please, I-I need you…”

“Where?” he asked. “Where do you need me, princess?”

“M-my… in my—” you choked, struggling to say the word. You managed to get it out (he’d been helping you get more comfortable with all this, slowly), but only when you whispered it: “my pussy…”

He laughed a little, and it made you feel even more insecure until he pushed his cock inside you— and then you weren’t thinking about anything else but how incredible it felt. “Aw, so innocent,” he cooed, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes as he began to move his hips back and forth. “Not as innocent as you used to be… guess I ruined you, didn’t I?”

You whined. “N-no, you didn’t— you made me perfect, Eddie…”

Laying down over you, he kept himself propped up on one bent arm as the other reached for your thigh, squeezing the delicate skin every time he filled you to the brim. “Fuck, you are perfect,” he agreed, “and so tight for me, always… still feel like a virgin, princess.”

You moaned far louder than you meant to when he started to suck on your neck, reaching up to grab onto the backs of his shoulders as your back arched harder.

“Y’don’t act like one anymore, though,” he added with a short laugh.

Grabbing your hips, he pulled you up to meet his own, forcing you to take him deeper than before— and you choked on your whine, digging your nails into his back.

“Not too much, is it?” he panted. “You can take all of me, right?”

Admittedly, you hesitated, but you did nod and he kissed your cheek.

“I know you can,” he agreed. “Such a good girl for me, yeah? Gonna take all this dick in your little cunt?”

The next thrust hit so deep, and so hard, that tears immediately sprung to your eyes— but you nodded again.

“C’mon, baby, say it,” he encouraged.

“I— I’m gonna take it all,” you promised, your own voice higher and more wavering than you expected it to sound.

“Yeah you are,” he grunted, fucking you faster, and you buried your face in the space between his neck and shoulder— you gasped in breaths against his skin, and he held you a little tighter.

His pace was speeding up, making your whole body rock as it was forced to go limp. “E-Eddie,” you sobbed. He started to kiss just under your jaw, and you knew that he knew how close you were— and yet, you still felt the need to announce it. “I’m gonna come, Eddie!”

“Shh, I know,” he soothed, “let it happen, princess— just come on my cock, fuckin’ soak me.”

Whimpering, your thighs started to shake and your head fell back. It gave him the perfect view of your face: he watched you with dark eyes and a mouth gone slack as he fucked you through your orgasm. He told you before that you scrunched your whole face up right before you came, and that he thought it was adorable. You were still a bit shy about it, but you did like knowing that he loved the way you reacted to how he made you feel.

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, and you felt his fingertips dig into your skin a little harder. He slipped one arm under your neck, grabbing you at your shoulder, and used it to keep you steady as he started fucking you even harder, and faster… just ruthlessly, really.

“Eddie!” you shouted. You were trying to get him to slow down, but the words just wouldn’t come out, it was all screaming moans as he relentlessly slammed into your spot— more sensitive and swollen than ever, having just come and all.

Hoping to get your message across non-verbally, you reached down and tried to push on his thighs, but he was so much stronger than you and it didn’t seem to deter him at all. “You can take it,” he insisted under his breath, his own groans getting louder as he chased his release.

You dug your nails into his skin, not even really intentionally— you just needed a break, just a moment to process everything. Your eyes were shut tightly, but you heard him growl as his hands moved down to yours. He grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them down on either side of your head, rubbing his thumbs over your palms soothingly.

“Don’t fight it,” he ordered, “I know what you need.”

And god, he was right— he changed his pace, slower if not quite slow, passionate and focused. You breathed more naturally then, giving into the onslaught of sensation while he kissed you again. His kiss was just as gently dominant as everything else, his tongue exploring deep into your mouth— like he was trying to taste every sound of pleasure you made. You were babbling your affections from the moment that he broke away from your lips. "I love you, Eddie," you sobbed softly, "I love you so much…"

"Shh, I know, princess," he whispered back, "I love you, too."

He didn’t take much longer to come, filling you with a long, low groan and a whisper of your name. He released your wrists eventually, opting to hold you tightly instead. In a moment he seemed to gain all his energy back, rapidly shifting from panting and exhausted to peppering kisses all over your face. “Eddieeeee,” you whined, but you were laughing, too.

“Love you so much,” he mumbled. “God, you can’t even imagine how much.”

“I bet I can,” you replied. “I bet it’s how much I love you.”

“No, no— more than that,” he decided.

“What?! Eddie, don’t say that,” you frowned.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “I love you so much that this pretty little head of yours would explode if you knew—” he accented his statement by holding his fingers up to the side of your head and spreading them, making a pshh sound through his teeth to do his impression of an explosion.

You laughed and shoved him lightly on his bare chest. “You’re silly,” you mumbled, laughing more as he nuzzled his face against you, tickling you with the tip of his nose and his fluffy hair.

That was the way you fell asleep, tangled in his arms. You never slept as well as you did when he was holding you, even on a ratty old mattress in a beat-up van in the abandoned desert, even separated from your loved ones and so painfully far from home.

~ ♡ ~

The knocking didn’t wake you up— only Eddie grabbing you and shaking you awake, whispering to you in a rushed voice, made you begin to stir. “Princess,” he snapped, and you awakened as quickly as you could. It was still pitch dark outside… except for the flashlight shining into the driver’s side window.

“E-Eddie, what’s going—?” you started to ask, but he pressed a finger over your lips before pulling the blanket up to your neck.

“There’s a state trooper outside,” he informed you, just as there was another knock on the window, and your eyes went wide but you remembered not to say anything.

“Stay in the van,” Eddie hissed. “Don’t move or say anything until I come back, you hear me? Stay in the van.”

You nodded quickly, blinking away the watering of your eyes. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before he tossed the blanket over your face and hopped back up into the driver’s seat.

Another knock on the window made you startle with a jolt under the blanket, but you did your best to stay perfectly still and completely silent. “I’m sorry, sir— is this a no-parking zone?” Eddie asked as soon as he’d started rolling the window down.

“That’s not the issue— I was just noticing that your van matches the description of a suspected kidnapping out of Indiana,” the officer explained.

“Oh! Huh, that’s… actually not that unlikely, is it? A lot of cheap old vans out there on the road,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yes, but yours has a hole in the bumper, in the same place the one we’re looking for does,” the officer replied.

You struggled to keep your crying silent; was Eddie going to be arrested because of you? This was all your fault, you knew it—

“You don’t know anything about a missing girl, do you?” the trooper pressed. “Eighteen years old, about yea high—” you stopped paying attention as he continued rattling off a few basics of your description. They’d been right on your tail the whole time, hadn’t they?

“No, can’t say that I do,” Eddie answered.

“Well, then it shouldn’t be much trouble if I search the back of your van, right?”

You shuddered, biting down on the blanket over your head and praying that Eddie would find some way out of this. “Honestly, officer, it’s a bit inconvenient— I was just sleeping here and now I’m being asked about some girl, but I don’t know anything about that. I’ve been living out of this van for weeks, so it’s like you’re asking to search my home. And I really would just prefer to get back to sleep, honestly, I’ve got a lot of driving ahead of me tomorrow—”

“It won’t take long,” the officer insisted.

“That’s not my concern,” Eddie replied firmly. “You don’t have a warrant and I’d just prefer that you leave.”

“Your lack of cooperation could be considered probable cause,” the officer shot back.

“Only if you don’t care much for the constitution,” Eddie spat.

“And if I call the station and have them run your plates,” the trooper countered, “they’re going to come back to this vehicle, correct? Not, say, a 1967 Ford that reported its plates stolen this morning?”

There was a silence. A long, terrifying silence. Eddie said nothing. You weren’t even breathing. The trooper was the one that spoke next.

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle.”

You heard the door open, and shut. Steps around the vehicle outside, some talking you couldn’t make out. Knowing you were alone in the van, you let yourself start to quietly weep. It’s over, it’s all over—

The unmistakable, deafening sound of a gunshot outside made you scream in shock. “Eddie!” you shrieked, jumping up and using the blanket to cover your nudity as you hastily swung open the van doors from the inside.

You weren’t ready to see it, to see your boyfriend bleeding on the road, to see that cop point the gun at you next— you weren’t ready to imagine how your life would go on without him.

So, maybe it was a good thing that that wasn’t what you saw. But what you were looking at instead terrified you possibly even more. Eddie was standing there, holding a revolver, still as a statue as he looked at the officer on the ground beneath him. The man on the ground was still alive— breathing shakily, wide-eyed and shivering violently as his hands moved towards the growing patch of deep-red blood on his chest, but still alive. The click of the revolver turning made you look at the gun again, seeing Eddie aim it once more and begin to press down on the trigger.

It was like a horrible nightmare, the way you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The second gunshot was so loud, it forced you to wince— which spared you from seeing the exact moment that hole appeared in the trooper’s forehead, the moment his expression went blank and his whole body went limp.

When you opened your eyes again, Eddie was looking back at you over his shoulder. “I told you to stay in the van,” he reminded you flatly.

“E-Eddie,” you breathed, feeling light-headed and sick all of a sudden. “Eddie, what… what have you done?”

He turned to face you, stepping over the body and slipping the revolver back under his belt; you instinctively moved back when he took a step towards you, and his expression changed. “Princess…” he sighed, sounding heartbroken— like he couldn’t believe you were scared of him, but how could you not be? You didn’t even know he had a gun in the van— you didn’t know he could ever hurt someone.

You swallowed thickly. “Eddie,” you whispered, one more time. “What did you do?”

Something entirely new flashed across his expression— it reminded you of the way he looked when you told him that your mother hit you. But this was much, much worse, because this time, it was directed at you. “What did I do?” he repeated, livid. “What did I do?”

You started to cry harder, your ears still ringing from the gunshots, as Eddie stormed up to you, grabbing you by your shoulders roughly.

“I did what you told me to,” he insisted, raising his voice. “I saved you! And now you’re looking at me like I’m a fucking monster!”

“No,” you cried, “no, Eddie, I’m just scared— tell me you didn’t really kill him…”

“What are you scared of?” he laughed— actually laughed, at a time like this, though he didn’t seem particularly amused anymore as his lips curled into a snarl. “You didn’t mean it, did you? When you said you loved me, you were lying—”

“No!” you denied, sobbing so hard that it was barely intelligible anymore. “Eddie, I swear—”

“When you said we’d be together forever,” he continued, his jaw tight and his nostrils flaring. “I meant that, I meant every fucking word, princess.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know— me too, Eddie, I love you!”

“Really?” he breathed, holding the sides of your face as you sniffled helplessly. “Do you really love me, princess? Don’t lie to me.”

“I love you so much,” you promised, “I’ve only ever loved you… I’m just so scared, I don’t understand—”

Your voice was starting to break, and he soothed you with a shhh and a kiss on the height of your cheekbone. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered, switching back and forth between each cheek, “it can be scary, being in love for the first time. I said nobody’s ever gonna take you from me, princess, don’t you remember that?”

You nodded, but when you glanced away from where his eyes were boring into you, you could see behind him the lifeless hand of the man he’d killed, the puddle of blood navigating through the cracks in the dusty orange earth.

“Hey, don’t look at that,” he corrected you, turning your face so you’d have to look up at him again. “Look at me— that doesn’t matter. This, you and me, this is the only thing that matters, okay? I love you. I love you.”

Swallowing only seemed to make the lump in your throat bigger.

“Do you fucking hear me?” he growled. “I love you!”

“I-I love you too!” you finally choked out.

He slammed his lips onto yours, holding you there long after you tried to push yourself away from him. “Now,” he announced when he pulled back, “get back in the van. We need to go.”

~ ♡ ~

When you got sick on car rides, Mama always told you to look out the window. Well, you couldn’t see out the window from where you were curled up in a ball in the back of the van, your limp body jumping and swaying each time Eddie hit a bump or a turn— but somehow, you didn’t think getting in the passenger and looking at the desolation of rural California was going to help with this particular bout of nausea.

“Come on, come back up to the front,” Eddie pleaded. “I miss you, princess!”

You said nothing, burying your head into one of the pillows strewn over the mattress. It smelled like him— it reminded you of how it felt when you were only safe in his arms. Now you just cried all the time.

When the vehicle came to a stop, and Eddie got out, you wondered if maybe he was just getting gas. Until the back doors opened and he stood between them, arms stretched out wide to each handle, giving you a pouty look with a tilted head. “Poor thing,” he cooed, climbing in with you and shutting the doors behind him. You turned away, you even tried to scoot up closer to the wall, but obviously there was nowhere else to go as he laid down behind you and started to run his hands over you through the thin blanket. “I know you’re… not happy right now. Just tell me how to make you feel better.”

You tried to shrug him away, but his fingertips tickled your waist a bit while his whole body moved a bit closer, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

“Princeeeesss,” he sing-songed, leaning in a little closer to kiss the back of your neck where the blanket didn’t cover it; you flinched and pulled it up over your head, only for him to yank it off of you roughly. “Hey,” he snapped, “don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m not here. Talk to me.”

Sighing, you rolled onto your back and gave him a quick look— it was all you could stand right now— before you stared up at the rusted ceiling of the van. “What do you want me to say, Ed?” you breathed.

“I want you to say that you’re not mad at me,” he admitted. “I want you to say that you still love me.”

You let out a long breath, reaching up to rub your eyes with the lowest part of your palm, just by your wrist. “I… I’m not mad, Eddie, I’m—”

“Scared, I know,” he finished for you, “you only told me a thousand times.”

You groaned and turned away again, curling up even tighter as he started to backtrack instantly.

“N-no, come on, don’t be like that,” he protested, sliding up behind you and spooning you even though his touch sent a rush of conflicted feelings through your body. “Princess, please— you can’t do this to me, you can’t treat me like this! You’re gonna kill me, I can’t take it— I can’t take not holding you, not kissing you…”

To emphasize his point, he started to kiss a trail along your neck; and as much as your mind swirled with confusion and fear and hurt, your body did respond to it. There was a warmth between your legs, a cry for something familiar and comfortable that only he could provide.

He turned you on to your back again, looking down at you with a tilted, sympathetic sort of frown. “Okay, so maybe I can’t make you happy right now,” he relented, “but…”

He moved a little closer, holding your waist with one hand as he mouthed at your neck.

“But I know I can make you feel good…”

You turned your face away, but he reached up and guided it back with a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft, patient kiss.

“I know you didn’t forget this, princess,” he breathed in between moments of slotting his lips with yours. “I know you can’t forget that we’re made for each other. You can feel it, can’t you? When we make love. It’s so right…”

You didn’t stop him when he pulled you closer, when he climbed on top of you, not even when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You were just about ready to give into it, actually, when his hand started moving lower; and you instantly fought to push his hand away while it was slipping into your shorts. “Eddie, don’t—” you whimpered, but he brushed your hands out of the way and got back to what he was doing.

“No, don’t do that,” he instructed you softly, “I’m just making you feel better, princess— I’m gonna make it better…”

As his fingers expertly explored you, finding those familiar places right away and exploiting them for all they were worth, you shut your eyes tight and struggled to relax beneath him. You knew if you opened your eyes, you’d find him there, staring down at you with those eyes. You could see it all: the way his eyes looked when you first met and he made you feel so dizzy and strange and special; the way they looked when he took your virginity— no, when you gave it to him, when you begged him to have it— that night on Lover’s Lake, under the stars, promising you that this was forever; the way they looked when he told you he was going to whisk you, save you from a summer of solitude in France, that forever wasn’t just real, it was now; the way they looked at you over his shoulder, the gun still in his hand, the world completely still and quiet for a moment, once the sounds of an innocent man begging for his life were silenced.

You didn’t know you were crying, until you felt him kiss your tears away. “You’re doing so good,” he praised, “just like that— so good for me, you’re so beautiful…”

Hoping for a moment of comfort, you clung to him tightly, the building pleasure forcing you to let all of your emotions out; you sobbed, openly, and let every touch awaken your body and silence your mind.

“There you go,” he cooed, holding you tighter in return, “come on my fingers, princess— nice and easy, you know how, just let go—”

Whining his name, the first one hit you. ‘The first one’ because, immediately after that, he held your legs open and climbed on top of you and fucked you, taking you to the edge again as you held onto him for dear life. He didn’t stop talking for more than a moment the whole way through it, promising you that he was going to keep you safe, begging you not to leave him, reminding you of every time you’d told him that you loved him and that you were his.

When he was finished, he kissed all over your shaking body, whispering about how perfect you were. “Do you feel better now, princess?” he asked quietly when his journey of kisses brought him back up to your collarbones.

“I… I feel…” you panted. You didn’t know where to start. “Sleepy,” you finally decided, and you felt him press a smile to your cheek.

“Then fall asleep,” he offered, “I’ll wake you up when we get there, okay? Get some rest… you’ve earned it.”

You were exhausted physically and emotionally, so it didn’t take more than a minute or so once Eddie started driving again for you to lull into dreamlessness. Sleep was a welcome reprieve from existence, from thought and fear and pain. From trying to figure out if you were Eddie’s lover or his prisoner. From remembering how simple, how idyllic your life used to be— no, not perfect, but much easier. From imagining what would happen to you if the police found you again; from wondering what would happen to them if the police found you again.

It was just a shame you didn’t get to sleep longer.

~ ♡ ~

“Wake up, princess,” his voice gently wafted into your ear. “We made it, baby, look…”

You blinked your eyes open, feeling Eddie’s arms wrapped tightly around you— a little too tight. Maybe he still thought you’d run.

But where would you run to? All you could see out of the open back doors of the van was ocean, and sand. The beach was empty; and it was just as beautiful as you remembered. “We’re here,” he told you, kissing your cheek as he held you from behind, cradling you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “This is it— me and you, together. And we can go wherever you wanna go next.”

Shivering slightly, you felt your eyes water again. “I… I wanna go home.”

You should’ve been afraid that it would make him angry, but by now you were so numb… you just said it without thinking. He didn’t get angry, though, at least not on the outside. He just laughed a little and told you, “princess, we are home.”

He seemed to get a little more serious, sighing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re my home,” he belabored the point, “you’re my everything, princess. I know this is hard… love is hard, especially when it’s real. Just remember that you love me, okay?”

A gentle kiss landed on your shoulder, then your neck, then your jaw.

“Remember when we promised forever,” he continued, and as tears rolled silently down your expressionless face, he pressed his lips right up to your ear to speak directly into it. “And remember that if your parents come for you, I’ll kill them, too.”

One of the arms that he’d had crossed over your chest reached up, his thumb wiping your tear away on the opposite cheek from where he’d pressed his face up so close to yours— you could feel his hot breath on your skin, and it, along with his body holding yours so tight, kept you from shivering in the chilly morning breeze over the beach.

“You believe me, right?” he whispered, and you nodded slightly. “Good,” he cooed as he kissed your cheek. “I love you so much, princess… you can’t imagine how much. Your pretty little head would explode.”

He held his fingers up to your head, and stretched them out in a mock explosion, hissing the sound into your ear: pshh…

#dark!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson dark fic #yandere!eddie munson #yandere!eddie munson x reader

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dreamauri · 8 months

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♪ — 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 dark! rbr! sebastian vettel x fem! reader (dark / yandere + smut) “. . . your life and heart no longer belong to you. sebastian plucks you out and makes sure your love is his and only his”

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests | taglist )

"you're mine, you."

your were finally able to pry your eyes open. your hazy vision did not give you much information. you could see the warm lights from the lampposts come and go as the boy carried you on back, walking with you through the night.

you could hear his words and sentences, you can feel the vibrations from his back as he hummed a song yet you couldn't make out the lyrics. you couldn't move your limp body or arms, nor open your mouth to speak. just a bag of bones being carried around.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Stop fighting me." He raised his voice, gripping your bicep tightly and harshly. Hiccups and quiet cries left your mouth as you dropped to the floor trying to resist.

"Stop it, Y/N!" "No!" You wriggled and fussed, trying to free yourself from the German, unsuccessful as all your other tantrums have been.

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." You breathed heavily, looking up into the blue eyes you hate so much.

"You’re going to regret saying that, Y/N." He warned. This was probably when you should’ve stopped. You wouldn’t want to cross the line, especially with such an unpredictable man like Sebastian Vettel.

"I do not. I hate you. You’re the worst driver in history! I wish I never met you. I wish I’d stayed with Mark, who’s much more of a man than you—" Your words got caught in your tongue from the loud slap. You shook it off, feeling your cheek start to sting as you glared up at him.

Fresh hot tears pooled in your eyes as he forced you from your chin to look up at him. "You belong to me, Y/N." He indented his words to try and get the words in your head. "Mark my words you will regret even thinking of using your pretty tongue and lips, that belong to me, to say any other wretched beings name!"

And like it was nothing, he tossed you on the floor. You tried to catch him before he exited the hell hole of a room, only to trip on your cuffed ankles and miss the opportunity. Laying on the cold floor, you looked up at the small high window, indicating you were underground in the basement.

"Let me go." You cried, crawling and sitting against the door, hugging your knees. "I will never free you. You’re here with me to stay!" You heard him shout. The tears finally trailed down your cheeks as you sat and waited and waited and waited.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A loud gasp left your mouth as you watched your former co-worker's body be dumped on the floor. It wasn't the most pleasant surprise to receive in the middle of the night, especially with Mark's bare skin all bruised up and bleeding.

His name fell on your lips several times as you tripped and crawled to his side, pulling his pattered and purple body into your arms. He was cold and barely breathing.

"Aww, look at you." You winced upon seeing Sebastian walk into the room, red crowbar in hand. You flinched at the loud slam of the door, panic starting to set in with each step forth the shirtless man took. His chest and sweatpants splattered with the blood on the Australian man. You tried to pull Mark and yourself away, but the Australian was too heavy for you.

You held Mark tightly to your chest only for him to be ripped from your embrace. Sebastian flipped the crowbar in his hand before slamming it down on Mark's back.

A shrill scream left your lips as you saw the red piece of metal clyde with Mark's chest, emitting a bone crushing sound. "Stop! Stop! Please stop." Tripping on your legs, you hugged Sebastian’s thigh, trying to pull him away or hold him back.You flinched and cried with each swing.

Pushing yourself to stand up, you hugged Sebastian's chest, standing in between him and his teammate. "I'll be a good girl!" You gave in, anything to make him stop. "I'll be a good girl. I'll be here everyday waiting for you. I'll hug and kiss you and—" you gulped deeply. "and have sex with you, whenever you want. All the time!" you promised.

". . . Any time?" You nodded quickly, looking fearfully into his dark eyes. "Any time. Just don't hurt anyone. Promise me you won't hurt anyone." "And why would I do that?" "B—because I'm yours." You wiped your tears. Sebastian could only smile, tilting his head as he looked at you. "I'm all yours. You have me." You begged.

"So," he put his hand on your back pulling you in his chest, that sickening smile covering his face as he leaned down, licking up the side of your neck to your ear. "If I were to undress you and fuck you on the floor, right now. . ." he waited for you to answer or react.

You gulped, taking in a deep shaky breath as you felt your heartbeat patter and thump in your chest. And with no hesitation and shaky legs, you quickly unclasped your bra, throwing it away and pulling your panties to fall down at your legs. "No, Y/N.” You ignored Mark, closing your eyes.

And with all the strength you could muster, you held Sebastian's neck, pulling him down into a rough kiss. You could feel his smirk on your lips and the bulge in his pants pressing in your stomach. Sebastian felt himself grow stronger as he pressed you to the floor, his fingers digging in your core and lips biting on your skin. You tried to hold your body still. You felt no pleasure.

His fingering was rough and his bites were so aggressive he could almost draw blood. "Stop it, you're hurting her." the barley conscious man a few feet away tried to interject only to receive a kick to his ribs.

"Are you jealous?" Sebastian haunted. You felt yourself whimper as the German gripped your hips, getting on his knees. And with one thrust, your scream filled the room, body catching fire. "Shhhh." Sebastian covered your mouth with his palm, an eager smile on his face as he began moving, feeling like heaven was served to him on a plate.

You didn't know how much longer it was, but you were cross eyed, tongue sticking out, moaning and heaving, all bruised over with hickeys and love bites. Sebastian was gently singing in your ear with his forearms leaning on either side of your head, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your neck, opposite to his earlier demeanour.

He must've let out all your negative energy now that he’s handling you so gently and lovingly. His thumb trailing down your skin from the flesh of your stomach to your clit. The slightest touch had you bucking your hips and arching your back, grabbing onto his shoulders.

"Oh you like that?" He whispered in your ear, starting to rub circles and lines. "You're close, I can feel you, Meine Liebe." [my love] with a gasp and a whimper, you felt your coil break and the blonde's thrusts slow to a halt. Must've not been your first orgasm if it hurt.

"Love me strong or sweetly. I need you night and day." He sang quietly as he pulled out, standing up and pulling his sweatpants up. "arm in arm," he hoisted your tired and curled body bride style. "Hand in hand. We will be found together." Seb kissed your cheek gently, walking atop of Mark's, now dead body, as he carried you out of the room. "Arm in arm, lips to lips. we're chained and long together . . . I own you."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat on the counter, watching Sebastian cook breakfast over the stove. It's been months now. And he's been singing the same song, driving you nuts. "I don't need to buy love. you're a slave to my love." He chuckled as he flipped the pancakes, turning to you with a smile. "Sing with me, Y/N."

you gave him a small smile, shaking your head with a small giggle. 'Just play along. play along.' you thought over and over. "In every way, you're mine."

You grew used to his gentle yet dark eyes. Sleeping beside him was no longer tough if you just let him. He's not going to hurt you, you learned. He's too obsessed with you, too in love. too busy worshipping you.

Showering wasn't hard if you ignored his hungry stares or roaming hands. eating felt like dying because the food, yet delicious, was made by the hands that drained the blood from your co-worker’s and friend's corpse to teach you a lesson. His mouth felt like fire when it touched you, and if only you really were on fire to rid yourself of the skin he touched and ruined.

You spend your days with him, pretending to be happy. Being hand fed and carried around. Being spoiled with gifts didn't make you as happy as you wished it would. The princess treatment felt like hell.

But you had to learn to love it. You had to learn to live like this. This was your life now after all. "Arm in arm, hand in hand. We will be found together. Heart to heart, lips to lips. We're chained and long together." You and Sebastian sang together.

You eyed his bare back gritting your teeth, watching the man that had turned your life miserable pour pancake mix onto the pan. red, was what you saw and blood fell from your angry eyes.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Augh, dang it. I forgot to get towels." Sebastian sighed as he looked around the steamy bathroom. He turned back to see your shaking boy sitting in the tub, waiting.

"Stay right there, I'll be—" the blond leaned down, kissing you gently. "I'll be right back." He promised with a smile that you returned before he left. As soon as the door shut behind him, your smile dropped and body shaking stopped.

And with the courage you've built up, you disappeared.

"Schatz?" [darling] Sebastian looked around the bathroom confused, holding the towel he promised you.

"Schatz? Y/N?" He called through the house, stepping down the stairs holding up the towel around his waist. He was starting to get worried, jogging around and searching frantically.

"Y/N? My love?" He called louder and louder, going through each door, room and closet, the panic of losing you starting to set in as cold seat trailed down his skin and forehead. "Nein nein nein! Nein, Y/N! O GOTT, NEIN." [no no no. no, y/n. oh god no] he cussed and cussed as he started to heave.

Running and re-checking every spot in the house, Sebastian gripped on his hair, feeling tears beginning to pool in his eyes, already missing and needing the feeling of your skin on his.

prick, he felt the needle slide in his neck.

And within seconds his body collapsed on the floor. He felt someone turn him over with their foot, and when he was finally rolled on his back to see his assailant, he saw you, gently kneeling down and sitting on his chest.

"I, own you." You sang gently, throwing the needle aside as you gently wiped your warden's hair off his beautiful eyes and sweat from his forehead. "I don't need to buy love. You're a slave to my love." you raised the kitchen knife above your head, gripping it tightly with both your hands. "In every way you're mine." you ended the song.

"Y/N—" he hiccup, tears trailing down his eyes and temple, looking up at his inevitable fate. "Please, Y/N—"

Plorkk!

you hated that your name was the last thing on his lips. Blood spurted on your face as you watched the boy beneath you choke and heave on his own blood.

When that was finally over, you pushed yourself up on your feet, dragging yourself a few good steps away from the fresh German corpse. Tears mixed with the blood on your face as you processed the events. Laughs turned into sobs as you fell on your side, hugging your bare body, curling in on yourself.

What have you done?

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