❥ Your work life has been busier than usual. Let's hope it's not because your boss hates you.
This must be love 'cause it's really got a hold on me... .๋࣭ ⭑
warnings: agegap (reader is +25, her boss +40), stalking, mentions of misogyny, power dynamics. just a woman very much in love with you. ♡
Paperwork, reports, emails, back pain, and the bitter taste of extra-strong coffee are all you can remember from the last seven months.
You don’t feel like you can complain, though. The heavy workload came with a very welcome raise.
Even so, your poor body doesn’t think it can take much more, even though you’re earning more than minimum wage.
Neither does your mental health.
A position at this prestigious company, recognized across countless countries, is a wet dream come true for your resume. Just getting in as an intern had already been a miracle you couldn’t pass up, but you never imagined it would become your full-time job.
You wanted to aim higher.
but here you are.
An excellent average employee for the past three years.
Three years inwhich you’ve been able to support yourself and your beautiful cat—and even send a little money to your family. Living alone has its perks—you don't spend much if you know how to manage your finances.
But these last few months have pushed your limits.
One day, your boss’s personal assistant showed up with a mountain of paperwork. You weren’t warned ahead of time, it wasn't even your department's responsibility, and no one asked for your opinion.
“She needs these ready by early tomorrow morning.”
And ever since then, you've been buried under assignments you'd never handled before, with extra money thrown your way so you wouldn't complain.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you’re happy with your current life.
You sigh as you type another email and search for the most contrived, professional-sounding words you can think of.
You’re so focused on your writing that you don’t notice how, all of a sudden, the other people working around you straighten their backs.
Or how the nosy girl at the desk across from you stops gossiping.
Or how do you not realize you're still mumbling to yourself while sitting hunched over like a shrimp.
—"I kindly ask that you send..." Ask? For fuck's sake, they were informed about this a week ago. How is it possible they still can't manage such a simple task?
You press the keys too hard, and when you’re done, you see the shadow of an imposing figure behind you.
Oh, it’s your boss.
Oh.
Yes, your boss and the source of your current woes.
A boss you don’t want as an enemy—or as a friend, for that matter.
Just as proper and terrifying as the rumors claim.
So authoritarian that anyone does whatever she orders without hesitation.
Yes, and now she’s staring at you as if you’d personally insulted her.
You quickly straighten your posture. You feel your face burning, and all you can think is that you’re going to get fired today.
She’s not known for overlooking what she considers mistakes. Much less with a nobody like you.
You swivel your chair and look at her.
—E-Excuse me... th-the report you requested... I'll send it right away. I'm sorry for the delay, you see—
—I don’t need excuses. I expect to receive what's required. Nothing less.
Without another word, she glances quickly around the office and returns to her floor, with her trusty assistant following behind her.
Your muscles relax the moment she leaves the room, and you already want to die.
....
As soon she steps into her private office, she feels her knees nearly give out.
—O-Oh my God, Daniel! I talked to her! I really… I… I said something to her! Can you believe it?!
—Of course I believe it. I just witnessed it. —her assistant replies in a flat tone, long accustomed to his boss's delusions.
—And she looked at me! At me! She looked so nervous… Do you think maybe...?
She trails off, trying to will the blush off her face.
—Yes, of course she was nervous. Anyone would be if you spoke to them like that.
—Huh?! I softened my tone as much as I could.
—If you say so…
She can't argue with him and felt discouraged. She knows she isn’t known for being a kind woman.
Truthfully, she didn't think that side of herself was still alive.
When you’re such a powerful woman, people will inevitably underestimate you. So suppressing any weakness was key to getting where she is.
But you triggered something in her that she couldn’t describe as anything other than love.
Jesus, she was hopelessly in love with you.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Of course she knows your face.
No one enters or leaves the building without going through the rigorous screening process she personally oversees.
You graduated from a good college. Not the most prestigious, but good enough to survive there. Naturally, they called you.
Your internship went well; you proved yourself more than she expected, so they don't lose time—you were hired.
She already had a good impression of you—not to mention that your pretty face helped with that.
But her feelings hit her like a bucket of ice water after she accidentally overheard a conversation between several employees.
—Our boss is such a bitch, you know? Last week, a bunch of guys got fired over insignificant mistakes, can you believe it?
—I heard she’s just a control freak. It wouldn’t surprise me—at her age, she should already be married.
You interrupted.
—I think what she’s doing is fine. The guys who got fired were jerks who wouldn’t stop harassing Ellie from accounting. So what if she’s mean? I bet if she were a man, every single thing you're calling a flaw would be praised like he was the king of kings.
Ever since then, she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.
Like a teenager and her first love.
Finding out everything about you was ridiculously easy.
She knows where you live.
Your routines.
And a not-so-small portion of the company’s profits has quietly gone toward things you've never even noticed.
Like hiring bodyguards to watch over you 24/7.
She learned a lot about you—like how you enjoy to feel useful.
That’s why she started giving you more work—the perfect excuse to raise your salary without raising any suspicions.
And the guards’ reports come with photos of you in your daily life that she treasures more than anything.
Ah, if she could, she'd give you the sky, the sea, and the earth. Someone as sweet as you deserves nothing less.
But if you found something better, she'd stop seeing you every day through the office camera.
For now, she'll keep you pretty, busy, and stressed.
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masterlist ⠀! ⠀ do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites. ✶
His love language is acts of service.
He read that somewhere—some stupid quiz you made him take一and he latched onto it like a lifeline because it made him sound normal.
See?
See??
He's not a freak, he just likes doing things for you. It's a legitimate psychological concept. It's on the internet, go look it up. It's real.
He loves it when you want something from him. He lives for it. Thrives on it. Gets dizzy with it the second you so much as look at an empty glass.
You barely have to open your mouth. You just shift on the couch and sigh and he's already upright, already halfway to the kitchen, already aching.
"Water? Snacks? A blanket? Your heating pad? Do you want the kitten mug or the big one? Do you—"
"Just water, baby."
Baby.
His knees almost buckle.
Focus.
Water. You need water. He can do that. He's getting you water. Look at him go一such a good boyfriend, so attentive, so caring, he's fucking nailing this.
He pours the water so carefully. No ice. You don't like it too cold, it hurts your teeth, and he remembered that because he remembers everything about you, every tiny preference, every little sound you make when you're happy.
Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.
He hands you the glass with both hands like an offering at an altar. Bouncing a little on his heels. Doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until you take a sip and your throat moves and he's watching the little bob of it and his mouth is dry but that doesn't matter because—
He have to be patient.
Waiting.
Just waiting for it.
Come on. Come on. Say it. Say the words. Give him the thing. He needs it.
"Thank you, love."
Oh.
The words hit his brain like a shot of something warm and syrupy. Thank you. You thanked him. He did good. He did good and you noticed and you said thank you and now he's standing there with his heart doing backflips in his chest.
He wants more. He wants you to say it again. He wants you to pat his head and tell him he did such a good job, that he's so helpful, that you don't know what you'd do without him. He's practically vibrating with it, this desperate, aching need for your approval, and it's pathetic, he knows it's pathetic, he's a grown man getting high off a thank you like it's a line of coke—
Cute isn't he?
No.
No, he's not cute.
He's a dog. A mangy. panting. desperate dog who just got a pat on the head for fetching.
And he gets hard like a dog in heat too.
Always hard.
Always.
You could ask him to pass the salt and he'd have to adjust himself under the table.
You could ask him to zip up your dress and his hands would shake and he'd have to bite the inside of his cheek until it bled just to keep from moaning at the brush of his knuckles against your spine.
What a loser, right?
His dick twitches.
Jesus Christ.
He's hard again.
Weirdo.
Disgusting.
Pervert.
He hates himself. He hates himself so fucking much.
Why can't he be normal? Why can't his dick just stay soft like a regular boyfriend instead of twitching every time you say his name? You're gonna hate him, aren't you?
Oh god oh god oh god.
You're gonna find out. You're going to hate him. You're going to leave him. You think he's disgusting. You think he's a creep. You're gonna leave him. You're gonna walkout that door and he'll never feel your eyes on him again and he'll die, he'll actually just curl up on the floor and stop breathing because what's the point—
"Such a good boy."
Huh?
Good boy??
Him???
He freezes.
Did you just一did those words actually come out of your mouth? Good boy.
Good. Boy.
And you're smiling.
You look so beautiful when you smile. Your soft eyes and your softer lips and the way your cheek creases just a little and he wants to lick it, he wants to suck that smile right off your face and swallow it whole so it lives inside him forever—
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
He's so hard he could die on spot.
"Um... excuse me."
The words come out strangled. He's already backing away, hands positioned awkwardly in front of his crotch like a teenager caught watching porn.
Smooth.
Real smooth.
You probably think he's having digestive issues. That's fine. That's better than the truth.
He immediately bolts to the bathroom, lock clicking behind him.
You don't know. You didn't see. You're not going to leave him. He won't let you leave him anyway. He'll lock the doors and he'll nail the windows shut and he'll chain you to bed and he'll chop your pretty legs off if he has to—
no no no no no NO!!!
Don't think that. Don't you ever fucking think that about her. You sick fuck. How can you even imagine hurting her? Chopping off her perfect pretty legs? How dare you?? How fucking dare you???
If you do that you could never feel her thighs wrapped around your head while you suck on her clit. You'd never feel them tremble and clampagainst your ears while she moans your name. You'd never get to press your tongue inside her while her legs are draped over your shoulders, soft and warm and alive.
OH!!!
Okay that's better. He gets it now.
Yeah yeah yeah. See? He's not violent. He just panicked for a second. His brain does that sometimes一throws up these horrible, intrusive images that make him want to vomit but he'd never ever act on them!! He's not a monster!!! He's just... confused. Overwhelmed. He just loves you so much alright??? So much he'd unspool his own intestines into a leash if you asked him to walk himself—
Alright. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.
Deep breath.
Okay. Okay, he's fine. He's fine. Just rub one out quick and go back out there. You're waiting. He doesn't want to keep you waiting. That would make him a bad boyfriend, and he's not—he's a good boyfriend, he's so good, you just said so, and if you said so then it must be true—
Shut. Up.
Focus.
His hand is shaking as he pulls down his jeans. He's leaking already, a slick little pearl at the tip, and it smears across his palm when he grips himself. Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.
First—first, he needs something. Something to make it faster, make it pleasing, make it so he can walk out there and not immediately pop a boner again the second you breathe in his direction.
He opens the cabinet under the sink, behind the toilet paper, behind the bleach, where he hid it.
Your panties.
The ones you thought you lost in the laundry.
The lacy ones, light blue, a little damp in the center from a long day. He found them. He found them, okay? He didn't steal them. Fuck off. He found them. That's different. Stealing is a crime. Stealing is bad. He's not a bad person. He just... found them. On the laundry room floor. He was doing laundry like a good boyfriend, separating your underwears from the regulars because he read somewhere that youre supposed to do that, and they were just... there. In his hands. And then in his pocket. And now they're pressed against his face.
Fuuuck.
The smell hits him like a drug. Musky and sweet and so distinctly you that his knees give up. He inhales deep, pressing the soiled fabric to his nose and mouth, and his dick twitches so hard a bead of pre cum drips onto the bathroom tile.
He's disgusting. He's a creep. He's a freak and a weirdo and a pathetic little lapdog who gets hard from a thank you.
You'd hate him if you knew.
He hopes you never know.
He hopes you find out.
He hopes you walk in right now and see him—cock in hand, your panties stuffed in his mouth, tears streaming down his face—and he hopes you step closer. He hopes you laugh. He hopes you call him a disgusting little mutt and pat his head and tell him he's still your good boy.
Your good boy.
Yours.
He cums so hard he sees stars. Ropes of it, hot and thick, splattering his hand, the floor, the little bathroom rug. He bites down on the panties to muffle the sob that tears out of him, and for a long moment he just kneels there, trembling, fucked, still crying, still hard.
But it's fine.
Everything's fine.
He cleans up. Flushes everything. Hides the panties again and washes his hands twice. Splashes water on his face. Looks in the mirror. Practices his smile.
He looks normal.
He is normal.
He's a good boy.
Then he opens the bathroom door and smiles.
"You okay?" you ask, tilting your head.
And he could say it. He could confess. He could drop to his knees right now and tell you everything and beg for forgiveness or punishment or whatever you wanted to give him.
Instead he just nods. Crawls onto the couch beside you. Rests his head in your lap like the loyal dog he is.
"Just missed you," he mumbles into your thigh.
You stroke his hair.
He almost gets hard again.
He's so fucked up.
But you're still here. Still petting him. Still calling him yours.
notes: i was just listening to a song that reminded me of some scenes from mean girls and that's how this came about. it's really bad, but i haven't posted in a while. warnings: fem reader, toxic relationship, classism (???), manipulation, a stupid hierarchy, allusions to sex and violence but nothing explicit. to be honest i have no idea about the education system in the US, so this is a bit childish, apologies in advance.
Pre-Yan!Bully a man from a wealthy and somewhat spoiled family. His great height, combined with his muscular build, is almost proportional to how much of an idiot he is. In fact, the latter is practically all that defines him.
Pre-Yan!Bully absolutely refuses to be denied anything; that’s why he uses his strength and status to terrorize anyone who opposes him in college. He robs money from nerds, just like in a teen movie, beats anyone who tries to defend themselves, sleeps with whoever he wants at fraternity parties, and, of course, skips classes to smoke around campus, even if it’s a smoke-free area.
Pre-Yan!Bully blindly trusted his privileged position. His father is one of the college’s sponsors, contributing large sums to improve facilities. Still, the administration is tired of the bad reputation he’s giving the institution, and surprisingly, his father is the one who decided it’s best to remove him before he continues tarnishing their prestigious name.
Pre-Yan!Bully no matter how much he fought with his parents over the sudden decision; he was sent to continue his studies at a public college.
Pre-Yan!Bully who is fully determined to vent his frustrations on the weaker students in this new hell. To his surprise, this plan is interrupted when he realizes someone is already terrorizing everyone in the hierarchy of this college.
Mean!Reader the queen bee of the place, or something like that. She shows up everywhere in mini outfits, glossy lips, practically a walking pink stain in the hallways. Her typical “dumb girl” look is a distraction, everyone knows it’s better to have her as a friend than an enemy.
Mean!Reader who is sweetly hypocritical to everyone. If she smiles at you upfront, don’t doubt she’s tearing you apart behind your back. She doesn’t need to get her hands dirty to hit someone, physically or metaphorically. Just letting a little false information slip casually about anyone is enough for it to become the next gossip of the month, destroying reputations.
Mean!Reader who, upon seeing Yan!Bully, immediately knew what kind of boy he was and realized she needed him if she wanted to keep everyone exactly where she wanted.
A rich boy? Clearly handsome and strong? He’s sure to be surrounded by people sooner rather than later, that’s why Mean!Reader acts ahead of time.
Pre-Yan!Bully sees you approaching to greet him with that charming deer-like look that, honestly, intrigues and attracts him more than anything. How can someone with the brightest eyes he’s ever seen have nasty rumors spreading about them? He needs to find out.
It doesn’t take him long by your side to realize you’re a manipulative bitch, giving compliments without a shred of sincerity to earn everyone’s admiration. Those who speak ill of you were simply unlucky enough to fall out of your favor.
God, your stupidly tempting lips do nothing but spew lies to seduce him, and sadly, he’s a very simple man.
He thought hooking up with you at that shitty party you invited him to would be enough to have you as a lapdog and gain maximum status there. He was painfully wrong when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed with an empty space beside him.
He truly thought you’d be fascinated and in love with him. The fact that you left him alone was a harsh blow to his ego, but bitches come and go, right?
Yan!Bully who started bullying and tormenting anyone who crossed his path in the hallways of this poor place. Damn, besides mingling with the most average and unbearable people alive, he has to deal with you haunting his memories and ears, because, of course, in this damn college, nothing is more important than everyone talking about you.
Yan!Bully who really wants to get your attention again. Every time he finds out you’ve spread a new rumor about an innocent student (whose only mistake was spilling coffee on your favorite Juicy outfit), he expands and exaggerates it. Who would distrust a man with a powerful last name? Of course, if he confirms it, it’s true!
Yan!Bully who flaunts his expensive car wherever he can and knows you’ll be there, trying not to look so desperate when he honks at you and, for the first time in his life, nearly stutters saying “Want to go to the mall, babe?”, a cringy phrase you used to mock him with your group of friends.
Yan!Bully who, despite being a dream for many, wants (needs) you to look at him again like you did when he first arrived. The ghost of your hands on his body leaves him breathless at night.
He knows perfectly well that you only sweeten others’ minds. He knows he shouldn’t be losing his mind over someone like you, so condescending, so selfish, but that’s what attracted him in the first place, and now, all he does is admire how you have everyone wrapped around your finger without even physical violence, like he used to.
Yan!Bully who is cornering and hitting all the boys he knows you’ve ever hooked up with. He knows you haven’t looked at them again, but the disgusting feeling of jealousy makes him act primitively.
In his life, he’s never been discarded like trash, he’s never been denied anything. Why should you be the exception? But even when he offers you jewelry, makeup, and the most expensive clothes, you refuse to see him as anything but disdain.
And that’s why, at another random party, he’s getting drunk on alcohol far too cheap for his taste, but it does its job of making him stupid. He doesn’t think much when he sees you flirting with a guy he recognizes as the nerd in his major, it hurts his ego absurdly. He doesn’t think much when he drags you out, grabbing you too hard, surely leaving a bruise.
He doesn’t know what to say, he just looks at you, and you see him. You’re not angry, just looking at him with boredom, as if he’s worthless. That’s when he kneels and starts.
“O-one chance, a chance to be your boyfriend and… and I swear you’ll have everything you want. Sh-shit, just nod and I’ll give you what you desire! I’ll tear apart any loser or whore who dares to contradict you. Just one yes, p-please.”
Mean!Reader who just laughs and pets his head, like a dog. Everything went exactly as she planned.
Now Mean!Reader has a guard dog, following her through the hallways as if she were the empress of everything. Yan!Bully, who doesn’t mind being a pawn in his pretty girl’s game, is happy to be there.
notes: idk if this is a yandere thing, but i love tsunderes too, maybe I'll do a part two with more content. warnings: misogyny, insults, a bit suggestive at the end.
A guy who doesn’t know what he feels.
Poor thing, he's your coworker. From the moment he saw you, he knew there was something about you he disliked. He looked at you with pure contempt when you spoke to him about some office papers. You just gave him another fake smile and went back to work.
He acted with total disdain whenever you tried to start purely professional conversations with him.
—Can I use the printer?
—Can’t you see it’s busy? idiot... —The last part he whispered, but oh God, you heard it.
It was a nightmare trying to deal with him, but in your attempt to romanticize your life in the dull office, you invented a little game for yourself: “How many times can I irritate my bitchy coworker?” Easy to play, and it kept you entertained.
It started with you “accidentally” bumping into him. Efficient and practical, his insults were music to your ears.
—Can’t you see where you’re going? purposeless scum... —But as always, he whispered them.
Then, you simply decided to play some pranks on him, like hiding his stapler.
—Fuck, where the hell did I leave it? —It was clear his pride wouldn’t let him ask to borrow another one.
And your favorite: flirting with him jokingly.
—Sir, you look extra handsome today. Did you do something different?
—S-shut up! You're distracting me from important things, stupid… —You just smiled when you heard him insult you under his breath, and went back to your tasks.
But even though you gave him way more attention than you should have, you didn’t notice how he focused entirely on you—or how he blushed from staring at you too long. And hopefully, you’ll never know how you awakened the most primal urges inside him, the fucked-up desire to put you in your place for being such an annoying little bitch.
He hated you. He hated you more than you could ever imagine.
He hated how you thought you'd get away with this little game you were playing with him.
And how, after being the center of your attention, you’d casually walk away to chat with other guys.
Shit, he shouldn’t feel this jealous—but it was inevitable.
And after one particularly unusual bit of teasing from you, when you touched his chest and finally made him insult in your face, he found himself in his room, on the night trying to get his frustrations out, moaning as if his life depended on it.
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notes: I feel like this is very of movie stereotypical or something but I don't know. reader use glasses. warnings: stalking, description of a panic attack, kiss without consent.
Yandere!Cheerleader being the popular girl she is, is obviously dating the university’s star athlete—and she absolutely despises the classic nerd: you.
She hates you, she deeply loathes you. Yandere!Cheerleader can’t believe someone so... boring and lacking even a hint of charm could exist in the same world as her. How can you be buried in books while she’s out cheering for the home team? Maybe you should start acting more like the other girls.
Yandere!Cheerleader thinks you’re the most pathetic creature alive. Who else but a friendless loser would spend day and night buried in textbooks? And of course, she tries to convince herself that you’re ugly. I mean, seriously—glasses? You’re obviously the ugly duckling.
Still, she spends more time than she should analyzing your face and your loose clothes every time she sees you—right before making some snide comment about your outfit of the day. Then she desperately tries to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks when you look away, flustered.
Yandere!Cheerleader struts through the halls with her boyfriend by her side. And yet, if you’re within sight, her eyes always wander toward you.
The truth is, she’s starting to lose her mind a little.
You keep occupying her thoughts, and it drives her crazy.
When she practices her routines, she messes up more than usual—just because you happened to be studying in the bleachers that day.
When she doesn’t see you for a while, the only thing she can think about is what the hell you’re doing.
When she tries to fall asleep, for some reason, images of you flood her mind.
“Gross” she tells herself.
Even so, she finds herself stalking your social media… and your friends’.
Even though you don’t post much, she came across a harmless photo of you at the beach with your dad, wearing a beautiful swimsuit.
She blushed just imagining you like that that night—and of course, avoided you at all costs afterward.
But then she realizes you’re actually interesting.
Yandere!Cheerleader who after avoiding you for some time, decides to be your friend… just to find out what you do, what you think, and why no one’s ever around you. That’s all. After that, she’d go back to casually mocking you.
You’re passionate, smart, and it shocks her that you have no friends.
You talk to her so deeply about the things you love that… it makes her want to kiss you.
Wait… what?
Slowly, you two start to grow closer.
She starts spending less time with her boyfriend and her cheer squad, and more with you.
She thinks you have no one else, and she kind of likes the idea of being the center of your world.
That’s why Yandere!Cheerleader breaks down the day she sees you talking to someone else.
She starts trembling and hyperventilating, runs to the bathroom, and cries until her makeup runs.
One of her friends finds her and takes her to her boyfriend. But she can’t stop imagining what it’d be like to have you by her side.
To be your girlfriend.
And that’s when it clicks
She likes you.
She loves you, actually.
Yandere!Cheerleader decides she wants to be with you—even if she tries to deny her feelings.
At one of your little get-togethers at her house—just as friends, of course—she makes you try on her cheer uniform, just to tease you a little.
But once she sees you wearing it, she has to muster all her willpower not to drop to her knees and confess her love.
She tries to resist.
But without realizing it, she’s staring at you so intensely that you joke.
"What? Do you like me or something?"
Yandere!Cheerleader doesn’t even think. The “yes” slips out of her mouth so naturally that you blush—and she just laughs, just as embarrassed.
And then she kisses you.
“Who would've thought a nerd like you would steal my heart?”
Hi! so, I'd like to be more active from now on, I would love for you to leave me ideas or suggestions :) sometimes I just go blank and don't know what to write (╯︵╰;) eso bye chao (reqs are open btw!) :D
Just...imagining a Yandere!Bully with a Fem!Chubby!Reader
notes: just getting this out of my head, any spelling mistakes plz let me know:) warnings: fatphobia, dacryphilia, toxic dynamics, not much is said about the reader but hates the yandere.
Yandere!Bully who looked at you with disgust after coming back from vacation.
"What the hell happened to you?"
Yandere!Bully who used to bully you to the point of making you cry and forcing you to do whatever he wanted. He loved doing it, it satisfied him — until now, when he can’t help but observe you from a distance and finds you even more annoying than usual.
Now, running into you means getting completely distracted by your body, which looks so fucking soft that just cornering and pushing you around no longer feels like enough — and that pisses him off.
Yandere!Bully who absolutely hates the way you dress. Fuck, are you not aware of your figure? The way that skirt rides up in the back, and how stupid you are for not noticing. He was this close to yelling at you to change those damn thigh-high socks, the way they seemed to spill the flesh of your thighs makes him lose his mind.
Yandere!Bully who used to see you only as an easy target, someone to vent on. Sometimes you crossed his mind, but not like now — not like when he's trying to fall asleep and can’t get your chubby little face out of his head, or the times he stared too long at your chest while cornering you.
Yandere!Bully who thought that by bullying you even harder, he’d get you out of his head — that he’d finally feel satisfied. God, how wrong he was.
When tears roll down your face again, it feels completely different now: his stomach turns and his chest tightens. He never really thought much about being the reason behind your crying before. But now, with your wrists pinned to the wall after he insulted you, he’s way too aware of it. And he loves it.
Now, Yan!Bully is crueler than ever, pinching your skin and leaving marks so hard that your beautiful tears appear again from the pure pain — and that’s when he stops.
Yan!Bully who once insulted you in front of his friends, and one of them join in — and a rage he had never felt before flooded his entire being. He was supposed to be agreed with that— after all, he lives to torment you — but all he did was punch his friend in the face.
And on one of those sleepless nights because of you, he thought maybe — just maybe — he had always been a little in love with you.
"Fuck that. I’d never be with someone like her" he thought uselessly, trying to shake those thoughts away.
Until the next morning, when Yan!Bully sees you talking to another guy, smiling and laughing at whatever he’s saying. That strange feeling of rage returns — and being who he is, he simply walks over, grabs you, and pulls you away.
notes: english is not my first language and all that :p if there are any mistakes let me know. warnings: toxic relationships, implicit dub-con, and I don't know what else (just a quickly thought-out idea.)
When you presented the divorce papers in front of his eyes, all you heard was a soft chuckle escape his lips—that damn laugh that once—even now—could bring you to your knees, as captivating as he was himself. He smiled, and in response to your proposal, simply said, “Fine, if that’s what you want.”
Your look of confusion was like a poem written on your face, so much so that he laughed again, with that elegance so unique to him. Given his… possessive and controlling nature, his reaction was the complete opposite of what you had expected.
And a part of you felt deeply disappointed; after all, maybe you wanted him to stop you and makes your body his one last time before you walked out of his life for good. He signed the papers and left. He left you with a bittersweet feeling in your chest, but it was what you wanted: a bit of freedom. You decided to hold onto the good that came from it all.
That was all you were thinking about now that, after five months, you haven’t run into him again, and he hasn’t come looking for you.
— It was all a lie, huh? —you muttered quietly, holding a drink in a run-down bar.
Determined to forget the man you once thought was the love of your life, you finished your drink and ordered another… and another.
— Y/N?
You heard a deep voice that froze you in place—and then turned you to stone when you saw who the voice belonged to. You didn’t even question what someone like him was doing in a place like that.
— W-what do you want?
The tremble in your voice gave away everything you were feeling, and the strong scent of cheap alcohol around you only made it clearer what you were doing there.
You saw his stupid lips curl into a smile, and maybe—it was the alcohol talking—you saw his eyes devouring you, just like you remembered on those passionate nights.
— Y/N, darling, are you drunk? —he asked, feigning ignorance, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. He stepped closer, wrapped an arm around your waist, and touched your forehead with the other, giving you a look of concern that still held that fierce spark deep down.
You felt like you could melt in his arms right then, but the still-sane part of you tried to weakly push him away… and failed.He let you go, but grabbed your hand to guide you out of the bar. Too drained to resist, you barely managed to follow his steps until you reached his car.
— Get in. —he ordered, with such an authoritative tone that it made you want to disobey… and so you did.
— W-why should I listen to you? We’re nothing now. You’re not my husband… not even my boyfriend.
And just as you remembered, he opened the car with an anger and force that frightened you. He shoved you inside roughly and slammed the door shut with fury.
Once inside the vehicle, he spoke.
— Did you really think I’d forget about you, sweetheart?—the nickname made you shiver.
He looked at your trembling body, his eyes dazzled by the sight.
— An eternity could pass and you’d still be thinking of me. You said it yourself—you’re as much mine as I am yours.
Without another word, he kissed you, and this time, you truly melted into the taste of his lips… a taste you hadn’t realized how much you missed. You could feel him smiling against your mouth during the heated kiss, and when you finally pulled away to breathe, the dim light gave you a view that made your knees shake.
— Mine. You’ll always carry a piece of me inside your heart.
Maybe it had been foolish to think you could ever live without him.
Yanderes who hurt their darling aren’t exactly my favorite thing, but there’s something about a certain kind of cannibal yandere that lives rent-free in my mind. The kind that gently wraps you in his arms while his abnormal teeth hover over your skin, before delivering a brutally strong bite—strong enough to tear away a small piece of you. You cry, of course you do, but soft whispers about how full you make him feel and how perfect you look in that moment make your heart burn more intensely than the wound he's inflicted. He bandage your bruised arms, caress the skin of your face with his thumbs, and give you butterfly kisses on your cheeks. Maybe, being loved so cruelly is not that bad.
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notes: english is not my first language, if there are any mistakes please let me know. warnings: manipulation, dub-con, unhealthy relationships.
Having a good boy (too good to be real) as a friend is... strange. His kind, warm, and slightly anxious nature makes you want to protect him from everything and everyone. He reminds you of a little bunny. What harm could a bunny do in a world full of predators?
You defend him when someone gets too bold, comfort him when he comes with the news that someone made fun of his appearance—again. You tell him how incredibly handsome he is, and how any girl would be lucky to be with him. You don’t notice—or pretend not to notice—how he melts in your arms during those comforting hugs, and ignoring how he breathes in the scent from the curve of your neck. After all, he’s your adorable friend.
The exhausting task of being his friend is... draining. That’s the strange part of all this. Friends support each other and give each other space, but that’s not the case with you two. Want to go out and party? He shows up in your arms, saying he needs time with you, that someone humiliated him again in class. Need to study with your group? He calls, needy, saying he wants to be with you again. He suffers so much for being such a good person—people take advantage of his kindness. His voice slips through the phone in soft murmurs
"Oh... you know, I understand, I just... wanted to spend some time with my favorite person... I guess I’ll be alone again. After all, you’re the only one I need..."
You have a weakness for him—everyone knows it. It’s no surprise that after hearing his voice, you cancel on your classmates and head straight to his house.
It’s no surprise that he manipulates you—whether he means to or not. He only knows that you’re his special girl, the one who’ll be there when he needs someone most. That’s why he isn’t surprised to find you now, on your knees between his legs, savoring him.
All it took was his signature pout and those puppy eyes to tell you how embarrassed he feels that you have experience and he has none, that no girl ever comes close to him. You helped him, under the condition that it would be just that.
But the way you tighten your thighs while working his dick tells him that this won’t be the first—or the last—time something like this happens. After all, he’s just your sweet good boy. What could he ever do to hurt you?
notes: i decided to give him a name, it's a bit too short, sorry :( if this contains errors, please let me know. warnings: knife play (cuts), blood, bondage??, sadistic reader, dacryphilia...??
Isaac thought he was completely yours.
You wanted and praised him; in his mind, you loved him and saw beyond the perfect boy that everyone thought he was. You kissed the scar on his forehead that he got as a child, intertwined your hands with his, injured from long training sessions, gently held his face to caress the freckles on it, made his tense muscles relax in your arms, and sweetened his ears with whispers in the form of promises of protection and eternal love. You were perfect.
That’s why it didn’t matter too much to him to now be sitting on your bed, bound by the wrists, immobilized by you on top of him while he bit his lips.
The blade was slowly sinking tortuously into his skin, leaving an open wound; the pain, strangely, felt good. A whimper escaped his throat that his mouth didn’t emit. He didn’t realize how hard he was biting his lips until the taste of copper reached his tongue. Tears clouded the bloody vision on his body, but he refused to shed them. He wanted to fulfill all your fantasies; he wanted to be just as perfect for you as you were for him, he wanted you to mold him to your measure.
You noticed this and smiled, your classic sinister smile that few had the fortune (or misfortune) to know. You murmured "You’re doing well” before petting his head. And it was worth enduring. His heart swelled with pure devotion and love for you. His skin felt raw, and it was worth it: if that meant receiving your compliments and caresses, it was worth enduring a few cuts for you to officialize him as yours. Now it was not just a thought; it was a real contract that you cruelly signed on him.
Thinking of aYandere!Popular boy with a Creep!Fem!Reader
Part two: here
notes: english is not my first language, if this contains errors, please let me know. warnings: mentions of dead animals, reader is also a yandere?, mentions wanting to cut someone, stalking, non-con photographs. idk if I miss anything, let me know too.
Yandere!popular boy known for being the richest in the school, yet despite that, he offers a kind smile to everyone. Wherever he goes, he is greeted and invited to all the parties. If you want to boost your popularity level, just a minimal interaction with him is enough. His great size and strength make him ideal for the school’s football team.
Creep!reader surrounded by rumors. who has been seen collecting dead animals for an anatomy research in biology and a serious face what seems strange to everyone; remains unfazed—except when, with an old digital camera and a strange smile, takes pictures of her deceased pets. Others move away when she sits at their table during lunch, excluded from group projects, and make she the target of ridicule. Yet, maintains an unshakable façade of seriousness.
Creep!reader who notices him first. Accidentally walked past the playing field during practice and stared at each student on the team. When saw the brute strength with which Yandere!Popular played, swore her heart stopped for a moment. Now, had a new reason for her lips to curve into a smile.
Started to spent her free time researching him, taking photographs, drawing him, writing about him, and imagining what it would be like to break someone so radiant down into nothing but a puddle of tears and misery.
Yandere!Popular who one day caught you stalking him, taking pictures while he walked home, decided to let you be. Soon, he would find out why you was watching him so closely.
The next day, Yandere!Popular sneaked into your classroom to snoop through your belongings, eventually finding your diary. He flipped through the pages, finding nothing truly interesting—until he came across a drawing of himself alongside several written passages.
"I wish I could get closer to him. I wish I could grab his strong arms and open them up. I wish I could see his beautiful lips twist in pain. I just wish I could have him."
Yandere!Popular heart ignited in a way he could not bear. He had never felt so flattered before. He shut the notebook and tucked it away desperately before rushing to the bathroom.
Locked in a stall, he read and reread the diary, a foolish smile adorning his now deeply flushed face, feeling as if he might cry from sheer emotion. No one had ever taken such an interest in him before. Sure, he was popular and all, but no one ever looked beyond that. But you—
You didn’t just stalk him to get to know him better. You wanted him so much that you wrote about him, drew him so majestically, and, most of all, desired him only for yourself.
Yandere!Popular decided to give you exactly what you wanted. After finding out your address, he skipped school that day to sneak into your room, only to discover that you had his photos plastered all over your wall. His heaving chest could hardly take it.
You were made to worship him.
You entered your room after a few hours, only to find the boy you had recently obsessed over sitting on your bed, sniffing your pillows. You weren’t entirely surprised—you had already noticed your beloved diary was missing and suspected he had caught you in the act of taking pictures of him.
A choked gasp escaped him at the sight of you, and you stepped closer, grabbing his cheeks with one hand, forcing his gaze to meet yours.
The only thing he could manage to say was a sweet:
Just imagining Shigaraki playing on his pc with his friends while you are under the desk sucking his cock, you had asked him to please turn off the microphone but he just teased you, he wanted everyone to hear how well your mouth sucked his member and your gagging when you shoved it deep down your throat, sucking his balls as if your life depended on it and kissing his glans, Shigaraki practically saw hearts in your eyes for his cock and when he cum inside your mouth, the first thing he did was take a picture of you without your permission to send it to his nasty friends.
Tomura is really hungry for physical contact, so it's no surprise that when he's inside you he can't help but sobs on your neck for more, with moans saying he feels too good and tears on he's cheeks that you quickly kiss and then dry.
Every onslaught feels like he could die at that very moment. The sound of his hips crashing into your butt floods the room as shigaraki cries, cries for pleasure, cries because he loves to touch you and especially loves you more than anything.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
