𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

yandere femboy : wasian (japanese + american).

yandere ex-military omega : white scottish.

yandere office siren : wasian (vietnamese and irish.)

yandere superhero : alien. (basically like superman but was raised in a lab like homelander).

yandere city boy : african american.

yandere malewife : romanian with a counterpart of indian descendant.

you may or may not pursue him romantically and insist on keeping things strictly about co-parenting. honestly, it doesn't matter much to connor. in the end, he'll make sure no one else gets close enough to steal your attention anyway.

he'll still greedily soak up every ounce of affection you unknowingly throw his way.

you kiss your daughter goodbye before leaving for work? he'll stand beside the doorway afterward, waiting with almost embarrassing anticipation until you absentmindedly lean over to kiss his forehead too. the first time you did it, your excuse had been, "well... you're technically family too." after that he knows that you're exactly where he wanted you to be.

connor had to lock himself in the bathroom afterward because his inner omega wouldn't stop purring. from then on, he quietly started lingering by the door every single morning.

if one day you're distracted enough to forget, he won't ask for it directly. no, he'll simply stare at you with those heavy, disappointed eyes while rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. maybe he'll sigh. maybe he'll mumble, "...must've been half asleep today."

you'll blink, realize what you forgot, then laugh apologetically before walking back over.

he practically melts whenever you come home exhausted from work and immediately ask where the baby is before you've even taken your shoes off. he'll pretend to complain that you always greet the pup first, only for you to smile sheepishly and wrap an arm around his waist too.

"happy now?"

"...a little."

he's lying. he's literally over the moon, imaginary tail practically wagging happily like rocky whenever the he gave the dog a treat just by simply exist.

watching you naturally slip into the role of a parent feeds every possessive instinct inside him. you'll spend hours making silly faces just to make your daughter giggle, patiently rocking her back to sleep at three in the morning even though you have work in a few hours, carrying her around the house while humming songs you heard when you're still a pup.

every time connor catches those moments, he falls a little harder, there's a glint in his eyes as if saying "see? you were made for this."

he'll quietly take hundreds of candid photos when you aren't looking. one of you asleep on the couch with your daughter drooling on your chest. another of you cooking with the baby strapped securely against you because she refused to stop crying unless you were holding her. one where you're laughing after she managed to grab your nose with both tiny hands.

those become his favorite pictures.

he'll frame some around the house without even asking. others become the lock screen on his phone. a few stay hidden away in a private folder he scrolls through whenever you're working late.

sometimes, he catches himself staring at them with a smile so soft it almost scares him. he almost forgot those grueling years he experienced back on the barracks.

and every now and then, he'll deliberately reinforce the image of the three of you as a family. never forcefully of course, he's still cautious. afraid that you'll pull away if he's pushed too far amd fast.

he'll introduce you to strangers as his daughter's alpha parent instead of simply saying "the father/mother/your tittle." he'll casually mention, "we're taking her to the park this weekend," or,"we've been thinking about changing her bedtime routine." always we and never me.

if someone mistakes the two of you for a married couple, connor won't correct them. he'll simply smile politely while waiting to see if you will, at first you'll quickly correct them (and he'll let you) but most of the time, you're too tired to bother.

"...it's easier this way," you'll mutter once the conversation ends.

connor has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too widely.

first it's easier to let people assume you're together. then it's easier to spend every holiday at connor's house because your daughter is already there. easier to have a drawer full of your clothes in his bedroom instead of carrying an overnight bag back and forth. easier to stay after dinner because the baby already fell asleep on your chest.

before long, you'll find yourself sleeping at his house more nights than not.

one evening you'll wake up on his couch with your daughter curled against your side, connor asleep in the armchair beside you after insisting he'd "just keep watch for a little while." sunlight will be filtering through the curtains, breakfast half-finished on the table, laundry folded neatly nearby.

you'll blink around the quiet house before an odd thought crosses your mind.

this... feels nice. comfortable even. like home.

connor won't say a word when he notices the realization settle across your face. he'll simply smile to himself while pretending to read the newspaper.

because he knows there's no rush anymore, you were already building a pack around him.

all he had to do... was to make sure you'll never found out that he planned this.

he wakes up before sunrise, takes a shower, goes through his entire skincare routine, and carefully applies his makeup before you even realize he's no longer in bed. once everything looks flawless, he'll quietly slip back beneath the blankets and pepper your face with sleepy morning kisses.

he doesn't care about your morning breath. but you've noticed that he always tastes faintly of mint and cherry lip balm whenever he kisses you first thing in the morning.

and when you ask him about it, he'll simply tilt his head in confusion.

"what do you mean? i'm always like this."

you didn't believe that of course, but the sweet smile on his pretty face is far too distracting, so you just let him off the hook.

then again, he strives to become the most perfect partner you've ever had, so perfect that the thought of divorcing him or leaving him never crosses your mind even once.

he moves like a clockwork, cooks every meal you'll eat, packs your lunches with cute little notes hidden inside, keeps every piece of your clothing perfectly washed, ironed, and folded, and even helps you get dressed every morning. by now, he knows exactly which tie matches which shirt without you having to say a word.

while also keeping a sweet smile and cheery soft tone he always gives you, never yelled or rise his voice ever once, hell- the far he can go with you is pouting and huffing in frustration until you picked up your dirty sock you forgot to put away.

but the moment you give him a goodbye kiss and the front door clicks shut...

his smile disappears. every trace of that sweet, doting husband vanishes as fast as someone flipped a switch.

he quietly begins his daily chores without a single unnecessary movement. not even a soft hum escapes his lips. the house falls eerily silent, save for the occasional sound of dishes clinking or the washing machine running.

when it's time to buy groceries, he's already standing outside the market before the employees have even unlocked the entrance.

and the second the doors open, it's practically a battlefield for him and the other housewives.

he'll fight tooth and nail for the freshest vegetables, the ripest fruits, and the highest-quality cuts of meat (if you happen to eat meat.)

some of the neighborhood housewives have already learned to recognize him.

he's polite, but his smile seems forced. he apologizes whenever his cart accidentally bumps into theirs yet he always walks away with the last premium cut of beef and the freshest produce while everyone else is left wondering how they lost to that "sweet young husband."

not knowing that he has an absolute strategies planned out meticulously, like a subtle trip of someone's cart, a gentle little shove disguised as an accident, even goes as far as sweet talking the employees to give him the product that hasn't been opened from the box yet.

anything to make sure only the best ends up on your dinner plate of course.

he's really only sweet around you while to everyone else... he's rather unsettling. he'll casually slip between you and someone who stands a little too close and gives an eerie smile towards the pest.

his smile never falters as he tells them with a hostile tone underneath his voice, "sorry, my spouse gets uncomfortable around people." even when you literally never say anything about it, he sometimes goes as far to threat them whenever you're not paying attention.

coworkers who linger around your desk too often somehow end up transferring departments/jobs making the others spread a rumours to the point they're afraid to get anywhere close to you now.

neighbors who become a little too friendly suddenly moved out of the neighborhood (you never forget the frightened expression they gave you when they're moving boxes to the moving truck).

that overly cheerful cashier who complimented your smile once mysteriously gone, the missing poster with their face on it were hanged on the wall outside of the supermarket they worked at. when you told your husband about it, he just cooed in faux pity, wishing the police would find the poor cashier as soon as possible while trying to hide his smile.

not to mention how strict he monitors you, while he never question your loyalty- his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him would make him browse through your phone daily whenever you left it unattended.

he checks your messages, your emails, your deleted photos. your recently emptied trash folder, even your weather app- just to make sure of course. you laughed the first time you caught him staring at it.

"...why are you checking my weather app?"

"oh, i was wondering if you'd need an umbrella today."

every evening, he asks about your day while serving dinner and he would listens so attentively that anyone would mistake it for genuine insterest.

but the way his eyes never leave your face told something deeper than that. he analyzes every pause, every twitch, every nervous smile just to search for even the slightest hint of dishonesty.

and his real self almost slips through whenever he did so, when the smile on his face becomes just a little too stiff and his grip on the serving spoon tightens.

"...who were you talking to after work?"

his voice remains gentle yet his eyes darken with obsessive glint, but it vanished before you can even notice before cheerfully serving you another helping.

apologizing for asking such a silly question whenever he found you're actually being honest, nothing go worry about.

he'd much rather keep pretending to be the perfect husband than remind the world why he worked so hard to become one in the first place.

it took far too much blood to earn the peaceful life he has now. and he'd gladly spill twice as much if it meant keeping it.

like the same micah who has the entire company wrapped around his pretty little finger either from infatuation or fear, it's still one of the office's greatest unsolved mysteries.

the managers adore him, the department heads practically compete for his attention, clients purposely extend meetings just to hear him talk, even the CEO—a pathetic old man with a wife, three children, and a reputation to maintain—has shamelessly embarrassed himself trying to win micah over.

gifts like flowers, expensive jewelry even as far as a luxury vacation disguised as "business trips." micah rejected every single one with the same beautiful yet professional smile.

"...i'm flattered, sir." no he wasn't, he want to wrap his lithe fingers around the fat of his neck until he turned blue.

but micah is a natural flirt and everyone knows that, it's one of the reason why people practically grovel on the floor for him. he smiles sweetly as he compliments people, laughs softly at their jokes, his effortless charm is enough anyone's heart skip.

but those charms are nothing compared the way he look at you, or interact with you. it's SO obvious that you are his favorite since he's not afraid to show that you're off limits even though you two are not a thing (yet).

he'll lean against your cubicle wall while you're working, tie already loosened from the day.

"you're ignoring me again."

"...i'm finishing this spreadsheet."

"...the spreadsheet gets more attention than i do."

"...it's due in thirty minutes."

"...and i'm due for your attention."

he says it with the most pitiful little smile imaginable, before reaching over the table and fixed your tie effortlessly, his fingers lingering a tad bit too long on your collar before pulling away with a sweet smile even though you never darted your eyes away from the computer.

everyone is always pretending they aren't eavesdropping, some even gritting their teeth in jealousy and he absolutely abuses the fact that he's prettier than almost everyone.

tilting his head in a faux innocent, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking up at you through embarrassingly long eyelashes. his voice drops into that soft, velvety tone that makes entire conference rooms fall silent. just like a real siren. whether it works on you or not it totally depends on you btw.

micah only acts genuinely tempting around you and never anyone else. people mistake his public flirting as promiscuous behavior, but it's all surface-level—practiced smiles, playful teasing, just enough to keep people enchanted without giving them the real thing.

with you tho? he'll worship the ground you walk on, and would kill just to get your attention all for himself.

yes, he'll do anything to get your attention. his sleeves are rolled up because he knows you've absentmindedly stared at his forearms before. his cologne changes to the scent you once casually mentioned was "nice."

he'll loosen the first two buttons of his dress shirt after work, claiming he's "too warm," before wandering over to your desk just to ask if you're finally ready to go home.

he'll lean in close enough for you to hear him over the office chatter, his minty breath paired with a scent of peach balm he just applied-brushed over your skin as he talked with a slow and quiet voice so only you could hear him.

sometimes he'll catch you absentmindedly straightening his collar or fixing his tie, he's definitely not going to touch the tie until he clocked off afterward. yes he'll walk around with it crooked for hours if it means keeping the way you touched it.

now let's get into the spicy part (you can end here if you want to skip the nfsw part).

micah is a power bottom, no debate in this. he likes to be the one who receiving but of but also still pretty much in control. because honestly, control is pretty much the thing he's always good at.

he like to use toys pretty decently, not a really huge enthusiast but he'll use them whenever you like or whenever he's in the mood.

he loveeee to dress up, mostly lingerie, he'll even wear it underneath his work uniform.

he's not exactly vanilla nor a hard bdsm guy, he's perfectly in the middle, just a perfect ratio of praise and degradation, if you're into punishment or something like that, he'll be happy to do it (or if you want to punish him).

he's a person that is open to try anything new, whatever the hell you want, he'll do it. no matter how freaky or weird it is like bdsm, cnc or roleplaying, etc. though what he's not open with… is sharing you.

he's fine if you want to see him get fucked by other people if you're into that, but seeing you with other people? hell nah, he'll shut you up even before the idea came across your mind. he's not sharing even if it's only for one time thing.

he's a whimpered and moaner btw, is not afraid to get LOUD, so expect a noise complaint from your neighbors or his by tomorrow morning.

you would always greet each other with the sweetest smiles that never quite reached your eyes whenever your cliques crossed paths in the hallway. every conversation came out passive-aggresive, every compliment filled with backhanded remarks and sugar coated insults while both of you trying very hard not to claw at each other's throats with your freshly done acrylics.

and there were unwritten rules everyone simply understood. if his clique wore pink on tuesday, yours would wear pink on wednesday.

if your group claimed a table in the cafeteria, his would take the one directly across from it.

if you hosted a party this weekend, he'd conveniently announce one the following week that somehow managed to outshine yours.

it became less of a coincidence and more of a battle batween the two of you- and while you saw it as nothing more than a fun competition between two people with equally inflated egos, he was dead serious, obsessively so.

lucy had people keeping tabs on you. your social media, your online shopping, your schedule, the cafés you frequented, the restaurants you planned to visit with your clique on weekends- nothing escaped him.

he even hacked into your phone, just to know what outfit you planned to wear next monday.

before you could even show off your newest designer fit, he'd already be wearing the exact same outfit, strutting through the front gates with that infuriating little smirk before casually flicking his perfectly styled hair, letting it brush (slapped) against your already irritated and heated face as he walked past.

you hated how smug he looked while he loved seeing you annoyed.

if you were attentive enough, you'd eventually notice something... strange about the tension between the two of you that's not just hostility.

there was something weirdly intimate behind his sarcastic smile, every prolonged stare, every step into each other's personal space. to the point people often found themselves awkwardly looking away whenever the two of you started bickering, as if they'd accidentally interrupted something they weren't supposed to witness.

of course, nobody would ever dare point it out as they valued their social lives far too much.

and despite everything, he never truly saw you as a rival he needed to eliminate, it was quite the opposite actually.

lucy saw you as the only person worthy of standing beside him. rather than seeing you as someone who would be a threat to his social status- he saw you as someone he needs to constantly had to keep up with or someone he refused to fall behind.

back in kindergarten, when he was still that timid, sheltered child constantly mocked for being different, you carried yourself with a confidence he couldn't even imagine possessing. you spoke without fear, dressed however you pleased, and somehow made people follow your lead without ever begging for their approval.

you became everything he secretly wished he could be. and without ever realizing it, you became his standard, and his inspiration, his idol.

every sharp words he perfected, every sharp smile, every effortless display of confidence, they all traced back to you in one way or another. but he would rather die than admit it, of course.

so instead, he convinced himself that he simply needed to surpass you, to become better than you or in another worda- to become the only person capable of matching you.

because if he could stand beside you as your equal... then maybe you'd finally look at him the way he had always looked at you.

which was precisely why anyone who tried to insert themselves between the two of you quickly found their lives falling apart.

that one dumb jock who kept flirting with you every single day, to the point it crossed into harassment?

next morning- a neatly organized 40-page document exposing his affair with multiple teachers somehow landed on the principal's desk, complete with screenshots, photos, timestamps, and witness statements and that dumb jock was expelled before the week ended.

those desperate social climber girls who tried to befriending you as a ladder?

another documents- this time is years of bullying throughout the middle school, including testimonies from victims and grieving parents after one student's death was linked to their abuse and every single one of them transferred schools just the next day the documents were revealed.

for him, it was nothing but a flick of hand, his family's influence reached places most students couldn't even imagine.

eliminating competition was easy for him, people disappeared almost overnight the moment whispers started spreading.

no, this battle is only for you and him, no one else can and he will make sure of it.

the entire cafeteria laughs while you just scratch your head and laugh along with them, never realizing that you were the punchline.

but god forbid anyone other than him says the exact same thing- that smug smile immediately disappears from his face.

because he calls you dumb because he finds it ridiculously endearing while everyone else is just purely insulting you and that's an entirely different matter.

i had stated multiple times that his whole thing is literally just "he's the only one allowed to bully you." but it's even prominent in this one because people saw you as a prime victim.

once he caught one of your classmate asking you to buy them something on the cafetaria, and you of course without a thought just happy to help- even though break time almost over in 2 minutes and the cafetaria was on the other side of the building.

oh he was furious. who the hell that guy even think he is??? he'll grab the guy by the shoulder making him winced, the jackass froze when he realize it was him. he was smiling sweetly before telling the jackass to fuck off- which the guy immediately did, running with his tail tucked between his leg.

the next day, that same jackass was cornered by a bunch of school delinquents, they ripped him off all of his money before pulling him to the back of the school, no one knows what happened after that, because the guy never showed up to school anymore.

now- when the two of you are alone, though, the teasing changes completely from a mocking ones into something more like of a scolding instead.

he complains about how oblivious you are, how you always trust strangers too easily, how you keep giving people second chances after they've already hurt you, how you somehow never notice when someone's obviously flirting with (manipulating) you. (brother, you are on the same boat).

"...just stay close to me. it's easier for your empty brain, that way."

but in the end, it depends on your reaction.

if you simply laugh it off, he'll roll his eyes sassily before dragging you away by the wrist, grumbling under his breath about how hopeless you are.

but if you ever quietly admit that you've always been insecure about it, that people have called you stupid your whole life and you started to think that maybe they aren't entirely wrong... he'll just scoff.

"please, don't start crying over something that pathetic."

he'll sound completely uninterested, as though your feelings don't matter in the slightest but then the very next morning, you'll find a neatly packed lunch waiting on your desk.

all of your favorite sandwiche, fresh fruit already peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces. little containers of snacks and sweets. even an extra drink, because you always forget to stay hydrated whenever you eat a huge amount of food.

there's never a note nor a name. he simply walks past your desk later that morning, notices you happily eating, and clicks his tongue and begin to think about a way to warn you to not just accept random things from unknown people- you're lucky it's from him.

and the lunches never stop, it keeps coming every single school day, all the way until graduation.

yan! puppy boy immediately snapped his teeth the moment you stepped into the room. the staff quickly tried to calm him down, eyeing you warily.

"he's very aggressive. are you sure about this?" one of the staff members asked.

it turned out you were a regular volunteer at the shelter. you fostered hybrids until they found their forever homes, and you had a good track record of being able to "tame" even the most aggressive ones.

which only made yan! puppy boy even more alarmed. you had to be doing something awful to make those hybrids so obedient.

so he did everything he could to make sure you wouldn't take him home. he growled, tried to bite your arm off more times than anyone could count, and even went as far as scratching one of the staff members who was holding him back, leaving the poor man with permanent damage to one of his eyes.

but, to his annoyance, you were one tough nut to crack as you came every single day to check on him, willingly locking yourself in a room alone with him. during the first few days, he would do nothing but snarl at you. if not for the muzzle and collar around his neck, you would've gone home missing a limb.

even so, you kept coming back almost every day.

and he would never admit it, but he found himself growing a little calmer around you. he was still hostile, but at least now he only growled whenever you got close, no longer tried to sink his teeth on one of your limbs.

you're an odd one, he noted.

you were nothing like the other shelter staff. you never cooed at him as if he were some helpless and wounded stray, even though he technically was one. you never pushed him past his limits. you spoke to him the same way you spoke to the other staff members.

with that same quiet, monotone voice and sometimes he wondered if you'd ever raised your voice before. would you scream if he managed to bite you? would you finally give up?

he'd never know as the muzzle kept his jaws locked shut, preventing any accidents from happening.

after roughly three months of visiting him, he finally began to trust you—at least enough that he no longer growled whenever you approached, and his ears would perk up whenever you walked into the room.

that alone was enough for the staff to let you take him home, at least until they found a family willing to adopt him permanently.

even though he was still somewhat defensive around you, you had slowly grown on him, so moving into your house wasn't much of a problem.

and...it had been okay. great, even.

you treated him more like a roommate than a pet, you saw the human side of him far more than the animal one and somehow, for the first time in his entire life... he felt appreciated, it was nice being treated like a normal person, despite being half animal.

although he was still skeptical of you. who knew? maybe one day you'd stab him in the back and pull out a shock collar or something equally cruel. but you never did.

you were indifferent, yet kind and thoughtful. his opinions actually mattered in your house. back at the breeding farm, he had no autonomy whatsoever. even at the shelter, things were better, but he still had little freedom to make his own choices.

but in your home? you always asked him first before making decisions that involved him. whenever the two of you disagreed, you actually sat down and talked it through.

and he was delighted. for the first time in his life... he felt like life was worth living. amd before he know it, the longer he stayed with you, the more he lowered his guard, and eventually he finally understood the other hybrids you had fostered before him.

he was more than a pet to you as you were more than a caregiver to him. you were his savior. sure, the shelter had been the one to pull him out of that living hell.

no.

he wouldn't let that happen.

but you are the one who actually gave him back a warmth he never even realized he had lost, let alone deserved as he was born and raised in a cold, and dirty breeding house.

and just as he had finally found peace... it was threatened once again by the fact that he could never stay with you forever. of course, he was only a foster hybrid after all and he dreaded the day the shelter found another family to take him away from you.

if he had to rip out another person's eye for it... then so be it, he'd do anything to stay with you.

his sunshine, his savior.