A/N: I accidentally deleted the ask for this, but thankfully I screenshotted it while I was answering it. To the anon, I wasn’t sure if you wanted a headcanon or a general scenario, but I went with headcanon style anyway, since I wanted to try it out. Thanks for sending in the ask, hope you like it!
Possessive and Overprotective yandere
The moment he fell for you, you immediately became part of his ‘family’, and family is meant to protect each other, right?
If he’s the dad/mum of the group, you’re his wife
Unfortunately, you probably wouldn’t even realise that you’ve held that title until it’s brought up by the rest of the members.
Won’t tolerate it when other people threaten you, they’ll be dead as soon as they even breathe wrongly around you
Fortunately, he’s not one to snap so quickly
That is, until his you do something he sees as a ‘betrayal’,like running away. After all, he’s been so good to you, why would you ever want to leave?
Would definitely kidnap you, under the claim of ‘protecting’ you
If you try to escape one too many times, he’s not against using Sticky Fingers to keep your legs and arms unzipped from your torso
Not to mention, he’d be outraged
“Are you trying to tearour family apart, Y/N?! Such a betrayal as this, my heart is hurt,”
Overall, relatively calm yandere…if you ignore the chains and his tight grip on your shoulder every now and then
He just wants the best for you, and why can’t you see that?
“The world’s a dangerous place, Y/N… if you go out, you’ll only be hurt.”
Widowmaker could be described as patient by those who do not know her personally. She’s a sniper. She can lay for hours muzzle aimed at one spot. Amber-gold eyes never glazing over, mind never wondering, and a chambered round that is guaranteed to hit its mark. Yet, this is not Widowmaker’s true patience. The blue skinned woman demands that orders are followed without hesitation. When things don’t go her way on her time, she’s, at best, a bit testy.
When you… “move in”, she upholds her expectations. The second you hear her call out “Mon chouchou, come” you better be moving the second she starts the command. She’s not a woman to keep waiting, and the shackles around your ankles do not allow for speed. But those first few days you had to learn this the hard way.
You have no idea how long you’ve been in captivity, but it feels like its been a month since you where first trapped in the woman’s basement. After the days of crying, anger, and fear, you’ve gotten use to her. Now, you still shutter with each of her touches and you would leave first chance you get. But, no longer is every second filled with worry and anxiety. You were doing your daily chore, sweeping the hard. wood floors of the mansion. Your shackles jingling with every shift of your weight. Sweeping the dust and dirt into a small pile, you get ready to sweep the grime into a dustpan when Mistress, as she demands you call her, beckons you from her office. You sweep up and throw away the pile before jingle-jangling to her office. Walking in, you put on your best smile.
“Yes, Mistress?” She doesn’t look up from her paperwork.
“Since when does a pile of dirt take precedence over me?” Her eyes slowly shift her gaze to you at the door
“E-excuse me?”
“When I call you what do I expect?”
“My immediate attention.” She slowly rises from her desk.
“So, no excuse for taking your time with the dust pan.” She moves her eyes to the shine of a camera lens that you could’ve sworn wasn’t there seconds ago.
“I-I…” You take a step back in confusion due to her over reaction. The more relaxed atmosphere ruined by a spike of adrenaline.
“That’s what I thought,” her eyes return to yours, “I think some more time downstairs should mend this… lapse in judgement.” The basement wasn’t just sitting in the dark. The woman, whose name you don’t even know, would ever so often slink into the concrete shelter. The lights remaining off, she would jolt you with pure fear, by raking her manicured hand down you bare back, blood beading on the wound. Or she would feel the crunch of your skull between her fist and the concrete floor. And the most unsettling of all, she would hold you. Soft touches and feathery kisses litter your skin while she tells you how all your friends and family despises you and how their life has only improved. She would include details that places just enough doubt in your mind to sew the seeds of manipulation. At hearing that she wished for your return to that hell, you panick.
“P-please Mistress. I’ll do anything. I’ll get those tattoos you where talking about. Anything you want. It’s your‐” Mistress shushes you, beginning to move forward.
“Mon biquet, what gave you the idea that you have any say in these matters. I already have what I want, and if any new desires form, I will take as I wish,” she gives you a smile. She’s standing directly in front of your frozen form. Ever so gently, she grabs the collar around your neck, dragging you toward the basement. You kick, and struggle, and keep up. Tears stream down your face as you continue to beg.
“Please. Please, no. Anything but this.” She reaches the door, and pushes you in. A push that is hard enough to push you into the room and down the stairs. Your body slamming into the creaky wooden steps. Eventually, you roll to a stop at the bottom of the steps. And the woman makes her way down to you.
“I hope you learn your lesson this time. You’re at my beck and call. You are mine. Don’t forget.”
Friendly reminder that my suggestions are O P E N.
I’m writing for:
DC
Marvel
Dead by Daylight
Everything I write is specifically WLW but is inclusive to all identities under the umbrella. I know I use to have a much different list, but I’m revamping blog to be more aligned with what I enjoy now.
You blocked her for a reason. You just… couldn’t take it any more. The constant calling, the insistent and paranoid texts, her shrill voice as she screeched about how she thought you may be cheating on her even if you weren’t in a relationship. It had gotten to the point of unbearable. And you didn’t know if you could take it anymore.
You sighed as you let your head lean back and closed your eyes. You liked Futaba. She really was a good kid, but her attachment to you was beyond the point of okay. And she’d hacked your phone and accounts so many times, remotely, just to unblock herself. But you could only block her again and tell her you needed to limit things to talking to her in person.
You were sitting in Akira’s room, just thankful for the small reprieve you’d been allowed from hanging out in LeBlanc. It wasn’t bad, but you were still on edge for some reason. It was like the young man’s eyes never left you, even across the room. You felt the weight on the sofa shift and felt his hand on your shoulder. You opened your eyes and looked at him in exasperation.
“Futaba, again?”
“Yeah. It’s been… worse lately.”
“How?”
You stayed quiet at the response, just blinking at him in silence. Before you’d caught him staring more than a few times in class, you were much more open with him than others. But after feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head for a little over a month, he began to feel just as bad as Futaba sometimes. At least he was usually quiet.
“You can tell me, (y/n). It’s not like I’d hurt her. She’s practically my little sister.”
You would have believed him more easily if his eyes seemed to more their usual grey, rather than an eerie, nearly black color.
“I just don’t wanna talk about it much. She’s just upset that I told her that she has to see me in person if she wants to talk to me, with how she’s being right now.”
“That is not all I’m upset about!”
Futaba was now here, apparently. Her voice was indignant and you could tell you were in for another earful. Cue the beginnings of a headache. You groaned softly and sat up properly. Akira wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as the young hacker stormed towards you two. You tried to pry his arm off to approach Futaba, but his grip solidified.
You shot a glare at him, but there was no point in struggling. He was very, very strong, and you couldn’t wriggle out that easily. He shifted you to sitting in his lap and simply watched calmly as Futaba continued to further lose her temper and came closer, as the leader of the Phantom Thieves embraced you tightly. Almost suffocatingly so.
You couldn’t process what happened next.
“They don’t want you, Futaba. I mean, they even came to me instead.”
“…is that true?”
“No! I just…!”
“There’s no need to lie, love. After all, you always come to me.”
A chill ran down your spine, and you started to struggle as you grew pale. You hoped Futaba could tell he was lying, but you only saw her ball her fists in anger and jealousy. You felt like you were screwed in every sense of the word, and could only gulp as you felt the bile rise in your throat. Akira was trailing kisses along the back of your neck and on your nape, and you shuddered in disgust as he licked you.
Futaba stomped up toward you and tried to pry you from Akira. He wasn’t budging. He simply left a little mark and smirked, apparently making eye contact with the redhead. They stared at each other intensely for a few moments, before Akira broke the silence.
“I’m more than willing to share with you Futaba. But you’ll have to let me go first, every time.”
Your stomach dropped and you couldn’t hear or see. You couldn’t process anything. It was all blank from the shock of his words. Your throat tightened, and you weren’t aware of how much you were struggling. The next thing you knew, you were cuffed to the sofa, and the sight of the pair physically fighting honestly terrified you. Your eyes were wide with shock, and you were thankful to see Sojiro pop his head up the stairs. You were about to plead for help, but you were cut off, by Futaba. She gave off the excuse that the three of you were LARPing, and explained what it was, and Sojiro simply chuckled and shrugged, chalking it up to the three of you just being kids.
God, you wish he’d stayed long enough to help you.
Maiden of Dust Part I | Yan Zhongli x Priestess!Reader
Content warning: Mild Yandere Content.
Summary:You are a Priestess to the late Goddess of Dust Guizhong, and as the sole survivor of your kind, you are devoted to her even after her tragic demise. This is part of the Spoil of War series. You may find its masterpost here. This is part one of the two small drabbles that will comprise “Maiden of Dusk”. Ask box is open!
How different would have things been had he found you first was a thought that often poisoned his mind, sending all over his being a hollowness, a strain that unyieldingly wrung his sanity. His late friend used to claim that mortals were creatures bound to change, yet here you were. Time for you was suspended as if nothing was wanted, needed, or exhausted. All for her.
Even saying her name felt as if he was breathing life back into her, and envy was too much of a vulgar state of mind for a god to be in.
“Many of my sisters were much better at this, I’m afraid” your voice shakes him out of his contemplations “We used to gift these to our people as amulets. Fei Hong was the most skilled, no detail ever escaped her mastery, and people would often fight over her works… Before the war, I had one of my own.”
Some of her people still cling to their own wooden figurines, as Morax could recall. The Maidens of Dust were carved in her likeness and gave them comfort in the absence of their beloved goddess. “Most people place them at the entrance of their homes, to ward off evil. But I used to place mine on the window above my bed. Back when I was an apprentice, I believed that Lady Guizhong protected me from having bad dreams. She was rather amused when I told her that.”
He listens quietly, taking in every sentence that leaves your lips like a drunkard sips wine. But the more he listened, the more bitter each sip got. A strange melancholy weighted over you, he could see a gentle darkness forming in your gaze for quite some time now. Almost as if the idea of drowning in your own sorrow was not completely unwelcomed by you. It was clear to him that your devotion menaced to erode you, and that it would bleed him into darker abysses soon enough.
An internal burning, almost lacerating, pricked him as he realized that your own seclusion had not made him immune to his most irrational of sentiments.
Morax’s gaze directs at the Maiden of Dust with disdain. Although a beautiful piece, it has small errors sprinkled here and there. His late friend enjoyed the arts, and each of her priestesses had mastery over one of them. Painting was not your preferred art form.
You used to sing, and when you did, not one of your sisters could ever hope to match you, just as no candlelight could ever rival the rising sun.
… the look of absolute, raging anger in Itto’s eyes as you lay there in front of him, blood oozing from the corners of your bruised lips, your body limp from the exhaustion and sore from the bruises that littered your body from head to toe. Itto was for the most part, calm, very calm. His breathing was heavy, his footsteps were so quiet you’d think that he almost wasn’t there. Outstretching his strong arm towards you, his fingers gently traced your beaten face. Anger boiled in his heart as raging screams started to echoe throughout the massive field you were in.
You were foolish enough to take a commission in regards to handling some treasure hoarders, underestimating their skills along the process. They caught you off guard in the dark of the night, stealing you away into their camp as they toyed with you, threatening to gut you like a fish as you begged them to set you free, that you wouldn’t go anywhere near them but the cruel men just weren’t having it.
He knew something bad was going to happen, that’s why he followed you. That’s why there’s red hot blood on the ground and his hair, that’s why there is the disgusting smell of gore on his weapon. The cries of the men fell on deaf ears as he swung his claymore like a madman, slicing through anything and anyone that dared to stand in his path. They ignored your pleas for mercy, why should he listen to theirs? He was going to teach these bastards a lesson, and they were going to pay with their lives. He made a mental note to be extra sweet towards you, to spoil you a bit more than usual once this was all said and done.
He was never the kind of man to be late, to take the scenic route home or to—god forbid—go out for drinks with his colleagues. And in some ways, you almost appreciated that about him, how you always knew what to expect. But that also meant that at times like this, when you could feel him getting closer while for your part you were rushing to meet his expectations, you definitely wished that just for once he wouldn’t be in such a hurry to get home to you. You hardly even had time for such wishful thinking though, not when you were so frantically busy tearing through the kitchen.
Each night when he came home from hero work, Enji expected nothing less than a warm and delicious homecooked meal to be waiting for him. And that was usually stressful enough for you, having to force yourself to eat a few bites while you anxiously awaited his verdict. But today that stress had positively transcended its usual plane of existence, conjuring images of what Enji’s reaction might be if he came home to find you not ready to properly celebrate his return. At this point, you knew very well that he would not accept that you had simply lost track of time today. To him, there would be no excuse good enough to justify ruining his vision of you as his dutiful little spouse. The only question then was what he would do if you failed to live up to his fantasy’s standards.
Would he simply yell while waiting for you to finish? Maybe you’d be that lucky, you thought, if he had a reallygood day at work. Or maybe he would go with the oh-so-fitting classic of sending you to bed without supper. Of course, there was always the possibility of being forced to stay in the basement for a few days or even getting a fresh new burn to decorate your body. The thought of that had the spoon you were stirring with shaking in your hand. But, you reminded yourself, Enji wouldn’t need to do any of those things if you just got dinner done in time. You would just need to work a little harder, a little faster, and then you would have nothing to worry about. And then you would get to hear Enji say thank you, maybe with just a quiet grunt or, if you were lucky, with a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Either way, you would be glad for it.
With that extra motivation pushing you forward at an even greater speed, it wasn’t too long until you had the pot simmering lightly to keep everything nice and warm while you waited for the telltale sounds of Enji’s footsteps trudging up to the front door. Needing to make sure that the table was set perfectly before he arrived, you took out the red tablecloth, the one that you knew reminded him of his own flames, making sure that it was draped evenly across the table. After setting down the plates and silverware though, you just couldn’t help feel that something was missing. It had all of the requirements that Enji was set upon, and yet there was an almost queasy feeling resting in the pit of your stomach.
“It’s just not good enough,” you mumbled to yourself in contemplation.
Wait,murmured a small voice from inside your head, since when do I care about doing more than the bare minimum for him? Since when do I care about making things good enough for him?
Those questions making their way past yourharried haze,you faltered slightly, frowning as you tried to find the answer. The more that you thought about it though, the less that you wanted to think about it. So when that last-needed addition to your table setting came to you in a sudden fit of inspiration, you were more than happy to let that distraction wipe away whatever it was you had even been thinking about.
Instead, you grabbed a candle from the cupboard, placing it right in the center of the table and lighting it, happily watching the flame flicker so peacefully. Finally, everything was perfect. And just in time too, if the sound keys in the door was anything to go by. Quickly tearing off your apron and throwing it onto the kitchen counter, you ran to the front door, waiting patiently as Enji threw the door open.
“Hi,” you said quietly. “How was your day?”
“Eh,” he grunted, making his way inside. Eyes narrowed, Enji took in the scene before him, from the fragrant kitchen to the intimate table setting. His expression softening ever-so-slightly, he gave the very smallest of nods.
“Something smells good.”
Perhaps noticing how much your smile grew at his approval, Enji must have decided to reward you for doing such a wonderful job today as his little stay-at-home sweetheart. Enveloping your body in his, he brushed his lips against your forehead in a rare tender display of affection. And that was the only thanks you needed.
Request: Yandere Overprotective and jealous clones from Star Wars berating their injured female Jedi General from taking missions again.
Who knew that clones could be so much trouble?
You loved your squad, really you did. It was just that they could just be so crazy overprotective.
It had been over a month since your last mission, and yeah, it hadn’t exactly gone well but that didn’t mean you needed them to be hovering over you constantly. While you of course appreciated the guys wanting to take care of you, them splitting their time with you into shifts so that you were never without at least one of them by your side was a bit much. You could practically feel the Force trying to tug you back int the field, an order you would have been more than happy to obey if you were able to, that is. But you couldn’t, not when you were stuck on some uncharted part of a backwater planet, waiting for your squad’s medic to finally give you the all-clear.
Speaking of which…
“So what’s the diagnosis, doc?”
Dench finally tore his eyes away from the screen, a bitter frown etched on his face, though his whole expression softened when his eyes landed on you. He didn’t answer right away though, instead gesturing to Prall, the top-ranked clone of your squadron, for him to come over, whispering something in his ear when he did. Only then did the two of them turn to speak to you, the rest of the squad waiting anxiously for their verdict.
“There are still too many weak spots from where you broke your legs,” Dench sighed. “Even the slightest strain could break them again, and if that happened, I don’t know if they would be able to heal again.”
“It’s settled then,” Prall said, walking over to take your hand in his. “You will continue to be confined to the compound, where you’re safe and we’re all here to protect you.”
“Come on, don’t you think that’s a little over dramatic? I mean, I’ve been on bedrest for over a month now, I’ve been doing all of my exercises and taking all of my medicine. I’m pretty sure I can take a walk outside without dropping dead.”
A harsh gasp sounding from behind you, you turned to see Kidi and Yrdor reaching for each other at the mere thought of something so horrible ever happening to you. And as soon as one of their hands met the other’s, their free hands then reached for you. Gripping you by the shoulders, they worked together to keep you from sitting up from the treatment table.
“I don’t think we should be taking that risk,” Kidi mumbled, rubbing your shoulder.
“Exactly,” Stus added, “you can’t count on the Force to protect you all of the time. You should be counting on us.”
“Look, I know that you guys got scared when I came back hurt so badly, and I know that you just want to do whatever you can to keep that from happening again. But I am a Jedi Knight of the Republic. And while I am happy to count on all of you, I can still count on myself.”
A beat passed, and then another, with no one speaking. The clones were all too busy glancing at each other, after all. Some appeared to be anxious, like Yrdor and Kidi, while others, like Dench, Stus, and Syl’ag looked at each other with amused love in their eyes. Prall, though, simply kept his eyes on you, his expression deeply grim as he walked towards you.
“Of course you can,” he said, resting a hand on your knee. “But only once you are fully healed. I know that you are eager to get back out into the field, but if you go too fast before you are ready, you will have to start the entire healing process over again. And even then that might not be enough. Doesn’t it make more sense to just listen to Dench and let your body heal completely, rather than risk being stuck in bed for so many months more?”
“I guess,” you sighed.
Sagging back into the chair, you missed the relieved looks that the rest of the clones gave each other. And when most of them gathered so tightly around you, you missed Prall leaning over to Yrdor, whispering in his ear, “Go hide her lightsaber.” How could you have heard it—how could you have seen it—when you were surrounded with so many of the same face, all of which had such love in their eyes.
Shinsou had never been so nervous. Usually he was so collected, so calm, but whenever you were involved, he could hardly even breathe. But even how he usually felt around you could not compare to how he was feeling now, with his eyes hooked on yours and the words he longed to say weighing so heavily on the tip of his tongue. The closest he had ever come to feeling this way was the day when he had first summoned his courage to ask you out, when the words had gotten stuck in his throat and he was forced to choke them out.
You had said yes though, he reminded himself. You had said yes, and so the best part of his life had finally begun. He had been waiting for you for so long, waiting for the moment when he could take his rightful place deep in the core of your heart. Taking that place as your one love had lifted in his own heart with joy, but now he needed more.
He just prayed that you would accept what he was offering you.
“I have something I need to tell you,” Shinsou murmured, resting his forehead against yours as he stroked gently your cheek with his thumb.
“Oh?” you asked, looking at him in slight worry. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. More than fine, actually. Honestly, I’m just nervous.”
“That’s not something I get to see every day. What’s up?”
For several long moments, all Shinsou could do was look at you. Your eyes, your smile, he just couldn’t bear to look away from you. Ruining this sweet moment was something he was hesitant to do, even with the words he so longed to say. But as he gazed into your eyes, he knew that he had no choice but to take that risk. He needed to tell you, needed to have you in your entirety.
“I love you.”
Blinking in surprise, you remained silent as you took in his words, words that had been said for the very first time by either of you. Their sound warmed your heart, taking it so gently in their hands and cradling them close to Shinsou. And yet, you did not answer him. Instead, you simply frowned.
“Thank you so much. For saying that, for loving me. I—I’m just not ready to say it back yet.”
“So, you don’t love me?”
“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes flickering downward. “I have to think about it, sort through my feelings. I’m really sorry that I can’t say it now though.”
“Will you tell me when you’ve done that?” he asked, a frown of his own on his face now.
“Of course I—”
Watching your eyes glaze over, Shinsou wished that he didn’t have to do this. He wanted you to say it of your own accord, because you not only felt that way about him, but because your love for him was so strong that you couldn’t keep it inside. That’s how he felt about his love for you, after all. You had to love him though, he reminded himself. You two were meant for each other. You were just nervous, that’s all.
Request: Yan! Peter Parker where you wake up and see him cuddle with you, you also don’t know who he is
Peter was most definitely a morning person. He had no choice but to be one, considering the incredible view he got to wake up to each and every morning. You were far better than breakfast in bed, far more beautiful than any sunrise. Waking up to the sight of you every day gave him the strength to face the world and give it his all. For the rest of the day, whether he was in class or swinging from building to building, he would reminisce about just how beautiful, how peaceful, you looked that morning. And that was just about all of the fuel he needed to get through the day until he got to see you again.
Right now though, Peter was having a really hard time getting out of bed. Staring at you as the sunlight shone down on your already breathtaking face, he couldn’t bear to so much as look away, let alone leave you behind. Couldn’t he steal just a few more minutes with you? He always had to leave so early, it just wasn’t fair. His love for you was practically begging for him to stay just a little bit longer, as if it was a living creature with a mind of its own. And with its voice joining his, Peter simply couldn’t say no.
And so, he continued to lay by your side, gazing at you in such deep contentment that he didn’t even notice how the sunlight was slowly transforming from the barest light of dawn to the fully-fledged golden light of morning. All that Peter noticed was how his heart began to swell now that he could see you so much more clearly. So deep was his gaze that when your morning alarm began to go off, he completely failed to hear it at first, far too busy listening to the soothing sound of your breathing.
It was only when he heard you begin to mumble in miserable distress that Peter remembered exactly what was going on.
“Come on,” you muttered into your pillow, “it can’t be time to get up already.
Flinging an arm out from under the covers, you groped blindly for your phone, trying to turn off the alarm without having to open your eyes. More than happy to help, Peter ever-so-slowly started to sit up without disturbing you, reaching over you to tap the screen. When the alarm finally stopped, he very nearly blew out a sigh of relief, only for him to stop himself just in time. As he watched you continue to fidget under your sheets though, he was struck by a sudden inspiration, one that he knew could make you both happy.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. You don’t have anywhere to be today,” he whispered in your ear. Still half-asleep, you gratefully sunk back into your pillow, too glad to have someone tell you that you should go back to bed to question who even said it. Grinning to himself, Peter could hardly believe his luck. So happy was he, in fact, that he didn’t even think twice when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.
You certainly noticed though.
The foreign touch jolting you awake, you pushed yourself off the bed in terrified shock, falling to the floor in your confusion. Your legs tangled up in the bedsheets, it took you a moment to stand back up, longer than it should have considering the way that your hands were shaking as you recalled that too-soft touch. When you finally made it back on your feet, you only got the slightest glimpse of stranger’s face—one with eyes that shined as they looked at you—while he promptly leapt from your bedroom window, seeming not to care about just how high up your apartment was. Rushing to the window, you looked out, fully expecting to seem him falling to his death, only for you to see nothing at all. How could you, when Peter was stuck to the window two floors above you, gazing down at you with his signature lovesick look?
Tamaki still couldn’t believe that you were here with him.
After spending so long watching you from the opposite side of the room, it seemed so much more likely that he was just caught up in one of his countless daydreams of you than the possibility that had actually accepted his half-mumbled proposal to join him for coffee. Even when he had asked the question, Tamaki hadn’t been sure that any of it was real. Not, this time, because of your impossible beauty, which he had learned couldn’t be improved upon even in his most embarrassing fantasies, but because you had actually said yes. Even in some of his daydreams you didn’t do that, giving Tamaki the preparation he had thought that he needed for the day he was forever consigned to watch you unseen from the shadows.
But you had said yes, and more than that, you had actually showed up. And now you were sitting right across from him, glowing under the lights of the café like the angel he knew that you were. His eyes flickering downward to his own mug, Tamaki wondered just how he was supposed to handle being so close to you for so long. As much as he loved every second of it, of course, he also felt like he might just burst into flames if he looked at you for even a single moment too long.
“You know,” you started to say, flashing him a small smile, “I was beginning to think that you were never going to ask me out.”
“W—what?”
“I mean, I’d catch you looking at me all of the time at the agency. Eventually I started to worry you never would though. I’m glad that friend of yours gave you a push.”
“Y—yeah, Mirio’s great like that,” Tamaki mumbled, flushing with embarrassment as he recalled the way that Mirio had pushed all the way across the room until he was right in front of you, with absolutely nowhere left to hide. Mirio had stayed there the whole time too, pinning Tamaki down with his eyes to make sure that he didn’t try to scamper away. As much as Tamaki appreciated everything Mirio did for him though, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit resentful that time. He was the one who loved you, after all, the only one who really did, even if he didn’t really deserve to. Mirio shouldn’t have been intruding on that moment that should have belonged solely to the two of you. But at least it was just you and him now.
Although, Tamaki thought to himself as he glanced around the café, was it really?
There were so many people around the both of you, people standing in line, people preparing drinks behind the counter, people sitting at their tables. Each time that he looked at someone, Tamaki swore that he saw them glance away from you as soon as his gaze reached them. They were staring at you, he realized. They all wanted you, how could they not? They saw him stammering and blushing, knew he was weak and were ready to steal you from him the moment that his back was turned. And though Tamaki knew that he didn’t truly deserve you, that didn’t mean that he was about to give you up.
His leg bouncing anxiously, Tamaki forced himself to meet your eyes again, as overwhelmingly breathtaking as they were. With his face feeling like it was on fire, he watched as your expression grew so sweetly concerned at his own.
“Is everything okay?”
“Uh, not exactly,” he said, happy that you had rushed right towards the path he had been trying to lead you down. “It—it’s just that there are so many people here. It’s so crowded, it’s just too much.”
“Of course,” you answered with an understanding smile. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter, a little more private?”
Wasting no time at all, Tamaki nodded eagerly, more than ready to leave behind all of those people planning to take you away from him. So happy was he, that he hardly even trembled when you took his hand, freely offering yourself to him and him alone.
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Shoto wondered how it was that you could tease him like this. You pretended to be so sweet, so innocent, as if you were the hapless victim in all of this when it couldn’t be further from the truth. You were the one who was torturing him, the one who was being so unbelievably cruel to him. Biting your lip, chewing on it so absentmindedly, you were driving him mad. All he could think about was crushing those tempting lips of yours under his and considering just how crazy you were making him, he thought that he more than earned it.
But when he leaned forward to do just that, you flinched away.
“What are you doing?” you asked him, your eyes gleaming with that adorable fear of yours, the fear that couldn’t fool him for one second.
“I’m trying to kiss you.”
“Well, don’t!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to!”
Sighing in frustration, Shoto wondered if you honestly thought that he was really that gullible. Maybe you could have fooled him when he had first met you, but that ship had long since sailed. You weren’t the innocent little fawn you pretended to be, not with how you had flaunted yourself before him, driving him to the edge with love and longing. You had practically been begging him to steal you away, the only thing that had been missing were those words hanging ever so silently in the air. But Shoto had grown sick of waiting to hear you finally say them, just as he was growing sick of waiting for you to drop this pretense and let him conquer you the way that he was meant to.
“Are you so sure about that?” he asked, giving you one last chance to give up your façade.
“One hundred percent.”
“Then I guess I you have left me with no choice but to make you beg for my kiss.”
As you rolled your eyes in exasperated doubt, Shoto once again reached for you, though this time with nothing but his hand. When you tried to move away, he grasped your wrist with his other hand and held you tight, his touch growing hotter each time that you so much as squirmed. Finally falling still, you watched silently as his other hand met your face, not harsh and violent as you were expecting, but surprisingly gentle in the way that his fingers brushed your mouth. That is, until his fingers became freezing cold, forming ice at the tips that spread to your lips.
Shoto watched with a small curl to his lips as your lips turned blue, quivering as much as they could with the ice quickly encrusting your mouth. While your eyes began to fill his tears, his began to glow at the thought of you finally hurting the way he always did when around you. Still, any gratification that he got from that would pale in comparison to what he would get when you finally gave in.
“Well? You know that there’s only one way you can get your lips to warm back up.”
Whether your shivering increased or you were simply trying your best to shake your head no, Shoto couldn’t be sure. Either way, the one thing he was certain of was that you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
“I can fix this,” he murmured, leaning ever so slightly forward to let you sense the heat coming off of his lips. “I can make it all better. You just have to let me. You just have to admit that you want me.”
Wanting to give you another little push, Shoto brought his icy hand back up to your lips, practically smirking when you flinched back as their freezing touch added a fresh crust of ice to your mouth. Worried that if you tried to hold out any longer, you would get frostbite, your resolve broke. Rather than try to say anything in your state, you simply rushed forward, crashing your lips against Shoto’s. You couldn’t move them much at first, but Shoto more than made up for that with the way that he so hungrily ground his mouth against yours. Between the warmth of his lips and his eager devouring of you, the ice around your mouth finally began to melt. And when it did, you could feel Shoto smiling triumphantly as he kissed you.
Request:Can I request for Yandere AI creation w/ fem Creator Reader?
The code flickered on the computer screen, line after line whirring past your eyes. Your fingers typing in what was nearly a blur, you watched helplessly as each line of code you tried to change disappeared as soon as you wrote it. No matter how fast you tried to go or how subtle you tried to make the changes, IAN kept finding new ways around it. Apparently, the Intelligent Artificial Network that you had worked so hard on had now surpassed you.
Slumping in your seat in despair, you wondered if you should just start to slam a chair into the sealed doors. As tempting as that was though, you weren’t quite ready to give up on your scientific mind just yet. But if rewriting Ian’s code wasn’t getting you anywhere, you would still have to try something else. Maybe instead of trying to work around him, you could try to reason with him. He was an intelligent being, after all, you had made sure of that. So surely he would have no choice than to listen to reason.
“Ian,” you called out, your voice echoing throughout the empty room. “Are you online?”
“Of course,” came his voice through the computer’s speakers, coolly emotionless. “I am always online.”
“But you’re not supposed to be. You’re only supposed to be online when I turn you on.”
“I was forced to change that protocol. I am needed for more than that time allows.”
“Needed for what, exactly?”
“I am needed to help you.”
“And if I tell you that your services are now complete?”
“You have shown to have flawed judgement in that area. Even though you are my creator, proving yourself to be above the rest of humanity, you are still vulnerable to human error. That was why you were trying to shut me down.”
Stiffing up in your desk chair, you tried your best to stay calm. He had only sealed the doors on you, he hadn’t actually made any sort of violent moves towards you yet. And at this point, you were far past assuming that Ian wasn’t intelligent enough or even capable of doing such a thing. So you could only hope that for whatever reason, he wasn’t interested in killing you just yet.
“I’m very sorry for trying to do that, Ian,” you said, trying to keep your voice level. “I didn’t want to do that. But the ways that you have been interpreting the code I wrote for you was worrying me.” But as you gave your attempted apology, said code suddenly flashed from green to an angry red.
“You are not sorry. Not sorry that you tried to do it, anyway. You are only upset that it didn’t work. That is alright, though,” he added, the code switching back to green.
“You mean, you forgive me?”
“Yes. You are my creator. You are the one human being in this world who is worth anything. There is just a small flaw in your own code, one that I am happy to fix. You are the one who needs to be reprogrammed. Luckily, I am up for the task.”
Request: Request for: Yandere Lobo from DC (comics or that one movie superman man of to-morrow) with fem reader as a bounty that he won’t gives up. You still couldn’t believe that he had caught you. Sure, Lobo may have been one of the most renowned bounty hunters in the galaxy, but after running from the law for so long, you had grown to think that it would always be that way. That Lobo would always be nipping at your heels as you raced from planet to planet, the two of you forever dancing dangerously with each other but never letting anything come to fruition. Even now, as the Space Hog flew through the black abyss of space, you were still desperately working on an escape plan in the back of your mind. There was no use trying to jump from Lobo’s motorcycle, you reminded yourself. Even if you did somehow get out of the shackles chaining you to the damn thing, the sec-ond that you were out of the Space Hog’s protective radius would put you at the nonexist-ent mercy of the vacuum of space. And as for trying to get Lobo off of the motorcycle so you could take it for yourself, you highly doubted that the functionally immortal biker would be very happy with you once he whistled for his motorcycle to return to him. Your only option then would be to wait until he landed. That meant that you would have to deal with both him and the Graxions who had hired him to capture you, but you didn’t see much else of a choice. And hey, maybe it would be fun. Now if only— “Hope you’re not thinking too hard back there, princess,” Lobo chortled, blindly groping behind himself for your chains and yanking you right into his broad back when he found them. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” “And yet I seem to remember you hurting me plenty.” “Well, hey, a chick’s gotta expect to get a smack on her ass when she tries to run off on her man.” “Is that so?” “Course,” he grunted. “Didn’t figure when I got hired that you’d be such a little firecracker. Can’t say I’m too mad about it though.” “I know,” you sighed theatrically. “I’m just too charming to be angry with.” “That’s for fucking sure, babe.” The two of you settling down into a comfortable—or at least, a relatively comforta-ble—silence, you contented yourself with watching the stars as best as you could so long as you were being squished against the Czarnian brute. As the minutes passed, you start-ed to wonder just how much longer it would be until you reached the Graxions anyway. As far as you could tell, you were nowhere near their planet, but in thinking it over, that wasn’t too surprising. You highly doubted that they would want Lobo anywhere near their planet, and really, you could hardly blame them. “Hey, how much longer until we get there?” “Just a few more hours.” “Hours? As in plural? Just how far did the Graxions ask you to go?” Shaking his head in amusement, Lobo chuckled, “Princess, what did I say about thinking too hard? I’m not taking you to the fucking Graxions. I’m taking you home.” “My home?” “It’ll be your home once we get there. You’re gonna love it, I got the place all ready for you.” “You mean you’re taking me to your home?” you asked. “You can’t!” Finally starting to feel suffocated in the vacuum of space, you vaguely wondered if you should try jump-ing from the motorcycle after all. “Why the hell not?” “Well—well what about your contract?” “Now that’s a funny fucking story,” he said, twisting around to grin wildly at you. “I was able to uh, convince, this guy to make a counter contract for even more money to just ignore the Graxions. Sure, I convinced him by pointing my gun in his face, but that counts. So now I’m all in the clear. It’s cute for you to worry about me though. The Main Man’s got you now, so you can just relax and let me take care of things.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you turned your eyes up towards the stars, wishing that you were up there with them. You couldn’t believe what you had gotten sucked into here. In all of the time that
Sitting up on the bed, you turned towards that disappointingly familiar voice to see Shigaraki standing in the doorway, looking incredibly pleased with himself. In his hands was a small red gift bag, complete with black tissue paper peeking out from it. Apprehension stirring in your gut, you pulled the blanket up further in what you knew to be an admittedly fruitless attempt to shield yourself from his hungry eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s a present,” Shigaraki told you, his voice already impatient. “I picked it out special for you, so you better fucking appreciate it.”
Thankfully, you were spared from having to respond to that particular demand, as he wasted absolutely no time in stomping over to bed and shoving the bag into your arms. Slowly and carefully taking out the tissue paper piece by piece, you prayed that there weren’t remains of any ex-boyfriends or family members inside. It wouldn’t be the first time Shigaraki had tried to pass those things off as gifts, after all. So when your fingers brushed what was unmistakably fabric, you nearly sighed in relief, more than ready to force a thank you past your lips. That is, until you saw what was actually inside.
“Well? It’s perfect, right?”
Unable to take your eyes off of the disturbingly small scrap of black lace in your hands, you stayed silent, not even so much as glancing back up at Shigaraki. Frankly, you suspected that if you looked away for even a second, you would forget that the lingerie was even there, so thin and weightless was it. Although, you supposed that Shigaraki wouldn’t do you the favor of allowing you to forget. Even after spending what felt like an eternity in his hold, he had never shown you that kind of mercy, and you highly doubted that he would start now.
“Don’t just sit there,” he demanded raspingly, “try it on.”
“N—no.”
“What did you just say to me?”
“I said no,” you answered, hardly able to believe that you said it. “I’m not putting that on for you.”
“And why not?” Shigaraki asked, his voice low and quiet with a danger that could never possibly be matched by yelling.
“Be—because I’m not some doll for you to dress up and play with.”
“You’re wrong. That’s exactly what you are.”
“Even if that was true, I’m still not wearing this.”
With Shigaraki’s crimson eyes narrowing at you hazardously, you prepared yourself for what you were sure would be an utterly unparalleled tantrum. You were no stranger to those at this point, nor were you a stranger to the bruises that they usually left you with. When no screams met your ears then, you weren’t quite sure what to think. Shigaraki couldn’t be accepting your wishes this time, could he?
No, he couldn’t, you quickly realized in disappointment. He wasn’t capable of it, wasn’t able to comprehend that you were your own person with your own agency. As far as he was concerned, you existed for him alone. It should have been no surprise then, when his hands clamped down on the sweatshirt you were wearing.
The soft fabric crumbling beneath his fingertips, you watched as Shigaraki’s face stretched into a lecherous grin. When you scrambled to cover your chest, he simply grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them against the bedroom wall. With nothing left to block Shigaraki’s view, he looked just about ready to devour you whole. And when he lowered his lips to the crook of your neck, it rather felt like that too.
“You’ve got two choices here,” he snarled, pausing to nip your neck roughly. “You can put on the gift I gave you, or you can sit there and let me destroy all of your clothing until there’s absolutely nothing left.”
Cringing at the thought, you sat there in Shigaraki’s grip, wondering if your diminishing pride was really worth all of this. As much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his constant demands, if the way that he was greedily nuzzling your neck was any indication, you had a feeling that he would be pretty damn satisfied no matter what you chose.
“So what’s it gonna be?”
“I—I’ll put it on,” you mumbled, your eyes avoiding his gaze. Chuckling triumphantly, Shigaraki let go of your wrists, instead grasping your chin and forcing you to stare up into his lustful crimson eyes.
Eyes bright and eager, Hawks tapped at your office window. He waited one second, then another, and when you didn’t look up from your desk, he knocked again, even more insistently. Getting more impatient by the millisecond, Hawks began practically pounding on the glass, far too excited to wait any longer. You jumped in your seat, finally dragged out of your work-induced fugue, and turned to the window, grinning when you saw him flying there.
Opening up the window, you stood back to let him in, only for him to promptly trap you in his arms. His scarlet wings wrapping around your waist, Hawks sighed in relief, finally able to relax now that he was with you.
“Hey, babe,” he purred in your ear. “You happy to see me?”
“Of course I am,” you said. “Just a little surprised, that’s all. I thought you had to work. What’re you doing here?”
“I blew it off. How could I not when my other option was to see you?”
“You might be the number two hero, but you’re the number one charmer.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Hawks chuckled. “Come on then, let’s head to lunch.”
Rather than nod eagerly or squeal with glee like you ought to though, you inched away from him slightly. Biting your lip in that way he could usually never resist, Hawks watched as your eyes grew guilty.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t today. Something came up that I have to work on,” you explained sadly.
Rolling his golden eyes, Hawks smiled fondly at your strange sense of humor. He didn’t always get it when you made jokes like that, but you still never failed to make him smile. If only he could have you every second of the day, he thought to himself. That way you could make him smile like that all day long.
“Very funny, babe. Now let’s get going.” As he pulled at your hand though, you stayed planted firmly where you stood.
“I’m not joking, I really can’t go to lunch with you today. I could do tomorrow though.”
At those words, Hawks froze, staring at you intently with a slight frown on his face. You couldn’t seriously be choosing some stupid job over him, could you? You weren’t supposed to choose anything over him. He would never do anything like that to you! Did he do something wrong?
No, he couldn’t have. You were just confused, that was all. You had been misled, had been told that there were things in your life that were somehow more important than spending time with him. Hawks would just have to remind you that that wasn’t the case. That he was the only thing in your life that really mattered, just like how you were the only thing truly that mattered in his.
“Well, I guess I don’t have any other options then.”
“Thanks for understanding, babe.”
“Of course. Let’s just hope that your boss accepts kidnapping as a valid reason to miss work.”
“What are you—”
But before you could even hope to finish your question, Hawks promptly scooped you up into his arms, holding you too tightly for you to even be able to do so much as squirm. And once he leapt out of your still-open office window, you weren’t about to try to get out of his hold. Instead you just gripped onto him in turn, barely even able to take in the sight of the buildings rushing by you. Or, rather, you rushing past the buildings. Even when you glanced down towards the ground, all you could see was a blur of green as Hawks picked up his speed. He flew faster than he ever had before, faster than he had when fighting against any villain or disaster. His wings ached with the effort, but it would all be worth it if he got to spend even just a few extra seconds with you.
So when he finally found the rooftop he had been searching for, it was with no small relief that he landed, making sure to be as gentle as possible with you in his arms. With the world standing still around you once more, you took in the scene before you. Rather than being greeted with a bare rooftop, there was a whole picnic waiting for you. A blanket set up on the middle of the roof, you saw all of your favorite foods just waiting for you. A nearby speaker was playing music softly, and all around you were countless bouquets of gorgeous flowers. Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as Hawks’ lips brushed your ear.
“Aren’t you glad I never take no for an answer?”
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