Warnings: Yandere Behavior, past neglectful behavior, mentions of past abuse, mentions of religion.
Yandere deadbeat father who was a real work of art, once abandoned you and your momma for his side chick now is preaching about Christian values and how important family is.
Yandere deadbeat father who has apparently changed for his so called new family while leaving you in the dust like you never existed. Never once reaching out to apologize or make up for lost time oh no hed rather just ignore your existence like you arenât their.
Yandere deadbeat father who doesnât see you until Christmas where you were supposedly invited by his ma. And god he didnât realize how much youâve grown since he last say you (he did leave when you were about 9)
Yandere deadbeat father who akwardly approaches you. Not knowing what to say or do but he didnât expect and cold nod of acknowledgment nor you practically ignoring him! (God did your mama ever teach you manners!)
Yandere deadbeat father who doesnât attempt to interact with you after that, only hearing snippets about your life back in the city. (since when did were you interested in art? And what do you mean his baby has a girlfriend/boyfriend! Oh golly you are to young!)
Yandere deadbeat father who realizes how much heâs missed out on your life and childhood because he decided to go fuck around and drink (god he could still remember your face as he slapped your mama when she got to roudy)
Yandere deadbeat father who insists on letting you stay with him and his family for the time being until your winter break ends (heâs gonna make sure to slash your tires so you ainât gonna go nowhere)
Yandere deadbeat father who has your guest room decorated more childlike. He wants you to feel like home after all!!
Yandere deadbeat father who insists on you spending more time with him so he could finally get to know you better and the more he learns the more he loves you.
Yandere deadbeat father who encourages his familyâs more obsessive behavior towards you, he just wants them to love you as much as he does thatâs all!
Yandere deadbeat father who doesnât plan on letting you go, not again no youâll be his baby forever!
Ps: trying to refine my writing skills so I decided to make this little Drabble with a Yandere deadbeat!
Imagine your first love becoming your fiancĂŠ, until the weight of adult life slowly turns him distant from you.
>Part 1<
6.2k words
...
The ticking of the kitchen clock was making you sick.
You had been pacing for so long your legs were starting to ache. The food you had left on the stove hours ago was cold now, untouched. You couldnât eat. Still, you kept telling yourself that maybeâjust maybeâthere was still hope.
Has he eaten?
Is he driving home?
Did something happen?
Is he with someone else?
Tick. Tick.
That fucking clock.
You couldnât take the sound anymore.
It was already past one in the morning, and your fiancĂŠ still wasnât home. His shift ended at ten. No messages. Again. Your eyes were glued to the unread text on your phone. Your nails were chewed down to nothing, one by one, without you even realizing it.
Heâd seemed in a better mood lately. Wellâbetter compared to before. He answered your questions, even if the replies were short. He didnât look like he hated you as much.
Not completely. But it never lasted.
You couldnât take it anymore.
You couldnât keep hoping for change.
You leaned both hands against the kitchen sink when a sharp pain stabbed through your chest. Your ears began to ring, a dull noise swallowing everything as your stomach twisted violently with anxiety. It felt like being at a high altitudeâlike there wasnât enough air.
Tick. Tick.
It was too much.
So much that you didnât hear the slow, heavy footsteps approaching. Not the tired voice calling your name. It took a firm shake on your shoulder to drag you back to reality.
You looked down at the hand touching you.
It was him.
That exhausted face you once loved more than anything. The face you used to kiss every night. The same man who had left you shaking with fear and anger for hours just by disappearing.
"WHERE WERE YOU?!"
Your hands started trembling with rage. The adrenaline youâd been suppressing for months finally exploded, rushing through your body. You couldnât stop yourself.
"(Your name), look at the time. Donât yell, for Godâs sake. I was at work. Where else could I be? Why are you like thisâ"
He flinched at your tone, as if it finally woke him up. What he didnât expect was the glassâthe one you always used for coffeeâflying straight toward him.
Then another.
And another.
Plates. Cups. Anything within reach.
You threw without aiming, without thinking, just trying to rip that burning anger out of your chest. It felt like the last piece of your sanity snapped that night.
"At work?! AT THIS HOUR?! If you want me gone, then just say it! What did I do?! What did I do to deserve this, (his name)?!"
"What the hell are you talking about?! Stop it, youâre going to cut yourself- SHIT! Drop that panâ!"
Half the kitchen was covered in shattered glass. Things you had chosen together. Bought together. Built together.
Even exhausted, he dodged what he could and moved closer, determined to stop you from hurting yourself.
When you reached for another glass, he finally grabbed you.
A large, warm hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.
You gasped, your chest rising and falling too fast. Your heart was slamming painfully against your ribs. He felt it tooâthe same nervous energy flooding his body, as if your heartbeat had infected his.
You both froze.
Suspended in that fragile moment.
Time stretched, heavy and suffocating. Neither of you spokeânot because there were no words, but because any sound would shatter something neither of you understood yet.
He had no idea what had just happened. He came home half-asleep and found his fiancĂŠe in the middle of a breakdown. Had you seen something? Hurt yourself? Accused him of something again?
His thoughts were still foggy, his head throbbing from where something had hit him.
...
This wasnât the break in routine you had imagined.
Slowly, the world came back into focus. Your vision cleared, and the first thing you saw was himâyour fiancĂŠ filling your entire field of view.
But something was wrong.
Something red. On his forehead.
Oh.
Oh God.
GOD.
"(His name)⌠Iâm sorry. Oh my God, Iâm so sorry. sorrysorryâpleaseâ"
Your eyes burned as tears spilled over. Your throat closed as you stammered, barely able to breathe.
"I didnât do it on purpose⌠I didnât mean to⌠pleaseâŚ"
"...Hey...Uh...Itâs okay. Calm down⌠"â he said awkward, wiping your tears with care.
Seeing you cry twisted something deep in his stomach. When was the last time heâd seen you like this? When he put the ring on your finger, maybe.
"Itâs nothing. Really. Don't cry, please... Itâs late. Iâll clean this up andâ"
"NO! Itâs my fault. Let me take care of your head. It could be open. Iâll clean the kitchen... Please."
...
He stared at you silently for a few seconds.
He was really looking at you now.
Something inside him clicked.
"You take care of my head, and Iâll handle the kitchen. I donât want you getting hurt. Youâre barefoot. Come on."
He offered his arm and gently guided you out of the kitchen.
You grabbed the first aid kit and treated him with excessive care, avoiding his gaze whenever you could. He watched you closely. And... There was no judgmentâonly curiosity.
You wonder what he's thinking...
Those dark brown eyes had given you butterflies for years. It had been so long since you felt looked at like that that you ended up feeling shy.
When you finished, you let out a shaky sigh. Thankfully, it wasnât deep.
"Your hairâs gotten long⌠are you growing it out?"
Now, THAT caught you off guard.
You touched your hair and... OH! He was right! You hadnât really looked at yourself in a long time. And the reason was standing right in front of you.
Strangely, it didnât make you angry. Just tired.
"âŚIt wasnât intentional."
"It looks good â he murmured. â Your (Hair color) suits you at any length."
You canât control it, but your tongue clicks, unsettled. If he noticed, he pretended not to.
WHAT was this now? Was he suddenly paying attention? Or had you hit him harder than you thought?
Your thoughts faded when he put the kit away and helped you stand.
"Itâs too late. You canât stay up like this, and I... work tomorrow. Go to bed. Iâll clean the kitchen."
You didnât agreeâbut you were too exhausted to argue.
"Good night⌠darling."
"Oh⌠good night."
But this? You noticed.
Darling.
A nickname heâd used for years. Since the beginning. Remembering it felt like a double-edged blade. Thinking of that silly boy made you soft. Looking at him nowâthis unstable man who shifted between coldness and tendernessâhurt.
After the cleaning and a quick shower, he lay down beside you.
And, as expectedâŚ
Neither of you slept.
You turned your back to him. He stared at it. And you could feel it.
Weeks ago, that wouldâve made you melt. Maybe you wouldâve reached for him... But now it was different.
That night cracked something open inside you.
You loved him. Still. Even after everything.
You held onto the memoriesâthe laughter, the years together, the photos, the poems. Just look the house. But love couldnât survive only in the past.
You needed space.
You both did.
And in the darkness of the bedroom, one question refused to leave:
LightYandere! Fae husband x Wifey!reader â MDNI! TW: 1950's period, Light Fantasy in modern time setting, Fae!yandere, power imbalance, misogyny, pre-relationship, first meeting, attempted assault
[Part 1]
"No, Sean!" You repeat, hurrying your steps on the pavement, "I am not interested!"
"Come on, (Y/n)! It's just a drink, it's not the end of the world." Sean insists, following you around under the thin mist of rain.
You sigh between your teeth, the moon shining bright on the wet sidewalk, your heels resonating in the dead of night, more and more annoyed at the young man following you.
What does he think exactly? This is not because you accepted a dance with him that you will get charmed into the bedroom of a man just like that! Especially after what he said about your father!
"It will be nothing, you'll just enter and leave in a second!"
"I said no, Sean. This is inappropriate!" You retort, not even looking at him.
You're not especially reassured lately. A lot of your lady comrades in Uni have been attacked and terrified at night, and you'd prefer to return to your room rapidly.
You gasp when Sean grabs your wrist with strength to force you to stay.
"And what say do you think you have exactly? I paid you dinner and the ride here, and suddenly you are too good for me?!"
"Sean!" You protest, "You stink of alcohol! Let me go, we will talk tomorrow on campus." You struggle for him to let you go, but it's no use; he has way more strength than you!
"No! I'm tired of your nice girl attitude; you're no better than all of us! Come with me! It will be fun, I promise!"
"No! IâŚ! No!" You pull with all your might, but it is useless; you are so much more frail than the quarterback of the campus team!
"Come on!" He grabs the back of your head, lowering his toward you.
Your eyes open wide in panic, as you push with all your might, but it is a losing battle! You feel tears behind your eyes, and you open your mouth to scream, when-
"Hey."
Sean stops, and you both turn your heads toward the third voice coming out of the dark. You can only see the circle of fire of a lit cigarette burning in the night, moving closer with the sounds of steps and a cane.
Whoever this is, he does not appear very pressed.
"The little Lady said no." The melodious voice of the mysterious man resonates ever so closer, but still in the dark.
"That's none of your business! Move along!" Sean retorts, annoyed, painfully grabbing your hips to pull you closer, certainly toward his car parked somewhere.
"You should let her go, son. This neighborhood is not safe for young people like you."
"Or what are you going to do? I'm a quarterback, I can crush anyone's bones easily!" Sean shouts.
"Oh, I see. I am in front of a terror." The other man continues, nonchalant.
You did not stop struggling in Sean's hands, but even distracted, he has a grip of iron!
"Show yourself, coward!"
You hear a distinct sigh, before the puff of a cig, and a man appears under the light of the streetlight.
Or ratherâŚ
A Fae!
A tall, slender man with a face cut with a knife, long auburn hair, and shimmering wings in his back, lazily approaches you.
"Satisfied?" He asks, seemingly uninterested.
Sean spits on the ground, disgusted.
"You're one of those?"
The fae simply puffs with a raised eyebrow, walking forward toward you two.
"You see that (Y/n)?" Sean turns to you, "We sent good men to Europe, and they thank us by sending us their trash!"
"The trash is older than your country, boy." The fae stands right in front of him, while he stood several feet away a second ago, and huffs a large cloud of smoke in Sean's face.
Sean coughs, waving the smoke away, his fingers digging into your thin skin, making you yelp.
"How about you release the girl?"
"How about you make me, old trash?"
"But with great pleasure."
And before you can even see it coming, the Fae crashes the golden pommel of his cane on Sean's temple, projecting him to the side. Under the pain, Sean releases you, and you hurry behind the tall Fae, holding on to your purse desperately.
Sean groans, holding his ringing head, but stabilizes himself and spins toward his adversary and charges. Unshakable, the fae takes one step back before punching him in the stomach. Sean stumbles and vomits his dinner on the ground.
"Ba⌠BastardâŚ!" He manages to spit.
"Are we done? I don't have all night, son." Your savior taunts, puffing his cig.
Sean growls and, with a last roar, he sprints toward the Fae, who quickly ends everything by slamming his knees into Sean's jaw.
And Sean falls to the ground, inertâŚ
You remain frozen, absolutely stupefied, trembling in your sheer stocking.
The fae, absolutely unbothered, wipes the dust off his black coat before readjusting it. He turns to you, and simply nods.
"Miss."
And⌠Walks away.
You are left with the unconscious body of your comrade, all alone in the black night, defenseless.
"He⌠Hey!" You run the best you can on your heels after the strange man who just saved you. "You're going away just like that?"
"As you can see."
"You can't leave him like that!"
"Watch me. And you should head home too."
"How am I supposed to do that now that my date is unconscious? I can't roam the streets at night all alone!"
Finally, he stops. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in his black gloves, before spinning on his heels and returning to Sean.
With a growl, he lifts him up on his shoulder, like the man weighs nothing at all, and turns to you.
"My car is this way."
Without a word, you walk alongside your new chaperone until you reach a Bentley. He opens the door and throws Sean on the back seat before opening the door of the passenger seat for you.
"Miss."
"Thank you, Sir." You smile.
You manage to enter with your poofy skirt and watch as he elegantly sits down behind the wheel.
And rapidly, you are speeding through the streets with a roaring engine.
"We are going to leave him at his house, then I will get you home." He tells you, driving with such ease that you rarely saw in a mythical creature.
"All right."
You put on a facade because inside, you are a bit worried. This man saved you, yes, but was it really wise to enter his car as you did? You silently dig your nails in your purse, but keep it quiet.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you finally open your mouth.
"Thank you, sir. If you weren't thereâŚ"
"Do not mention it, Miss." He retorts, taking a mastered curve.
"No, really. It is not safe for us girls out here, latelyâŚ"
"I know. You should only go out with your chaperone."
"He was my chaperone." You explain.
"Do you know him well?" He asks, giving you a side glance.
"⌠No." You finally admit, "I just thought he was cuteâŚ"
He sighs, shaking his head.
"This is one of the things gone wrong in this generationâŚ" He laments to himself, "Youngs meeting without their parents' presence. Anything could go wrong, and no one could help you."
"You helped me." You remind him.
"It's different."
"How so?"
"I was passing by."
"Other people could be passing by, too. I have not yet abandoned all hope for humanity."
He silently glances at you. His eyes are not mocking, but you can clearly see he is measuring your common sense."
"Good for you. I did."
"Why?" You ask softly.
"⌠War."
Your eyes open wide, your mouth agape.
"Oh⌠I am sorryâŚ" You manage to let out.
"Do not be."
"You were drafted to Germany?"
He silently nods, looking at the traffic light.
"I seeâŚ"
"I do not think you do, in fact."
"My father was sent there."
He gives you a glance, letting out a sigh, his gloved hands firmly clasped around the wheel.
"Did he come back?" He finally asks.
"Yes. But⌠Not entirely."
"I imagine." He nods, "War takes."
You silently nod too, remembering how your father returned to you and your mother, the shadow of the man he once was.
"But Magical creatures rarely mingle in human affairs. Why did you enlist?"
"⌠A part of me felt responsible."
"Why?"
He lowly chuckles, finishing in a long sigh.
And that is all he told you.
"Is this here?" He points to a house on the side.
You look in our address notebook swiftly before acquiescing. It looks like a real Manor, with enough parking space for three cars, and you heard Sean as a pool in his garden!
"WowâŚ" you let out, "It is so⌠Big!"
The Fae frown, looking at the Mansion.
"Is it? It looks quite cramped to me."
You look at him queerly behind his back. What does he mean that the house looks cramped? Is his house even bigger? That would be quite ridiculous!
You both get out of the car to grab Sean, who moans in pain, slowly awakening. You each pass one arm around your shoulders and lift him to the door.
It is his mother who opens.
"Oh myâŚ! My baby!" She screams, discovering Sean's tumefied face.
"Your baby is a pig, Ma'am. You should make sure he receives a proper education before letting him around good Ladies, or that will happen again!" The Fae tells her, without a flinch or regard for basic politeness and courtesy.
"YouâŚ! Is that you who did that?!" She demands, horrified and angry.
"And I'll do it again if I have to. He was assaulting the Lady here."
Your mouth opens agape to be put in the spotlight like that.
"I⌠HuhâŚ."
"Is that true? My baby would never hurt a fly! I know it!" She insists.
"He⌠He tried to force me into his car and kiss me." You admit, gulping.
"If you did not dress like that, too! And you entered a perfect stranger's car?! Looks eerily suspicious! I think you both jumped him to rob him, yeah! That won't go as you planned, I'll tell you that!"
"I swear I-"
"We will see each other again with our Lawyers! Take it as read, you two!" She swears, out of herself, propping her son up.
"MadamâŚ" You try again.
"We have a lot of powerful friends, little miss! You'll see what you get for assaulting my son like that!"
And like that, she slams the door in both your faces.
"Charming." He just says, "Typical of a dominant woman."
"That's all?"
"What?"
"She threatens to sue us, and you just say 'Charming.'?!"
"I'm not worried."
"I am!"
"I can recommend a good law office." He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I don't have the money for that!" You tell him.
He considers you silently before turning back toward his Bentley.
"Get in the car, Miss."
You breathe with your mouth, slightly trembling. You don't know if the woman was serious or not, but if she was⌠You don't have the funds to go to court!
You sit back in the car, fidgeting with your fingers on your purse's strap. He readjusts his front view mirror and makes the engine roar across the street. Several windows light up and open at the sound.
And he rushes off like a shot.
"Maybe⌠Do not rush like that, sir?" You propose.
"I'll think about it."
But despite the high speed, you have to admit that he handles his car better than most people you've ever come with.
"Are you a pilot, Sir?"
"None of the sort."
"Really?"
"I just love speed. It reminds me of flying." He explains nonchalantly as he passes by other drivers with ease.
"You can fly with those?" You ask with round eyes.
"What do you think they are for?"
"I don't know. They look so⌠FrailâŚ"
He shifts gears with grace and speeds across a crossroad.
"Never say that to a flying creature, Miss. It is wildly offensive."
"Oh⌠I am sorry." You present your excuses honestly.
You never really cross paths with a flying creature until now, and Fae are pretty much nonexistent in the USA.
You look through the window, all the blurred lights you're speeding past with, the barely noticeable pedestrians, the illuminated signsâŚ
"You're going to University?" He asks out of the blue.
"Oh⌠Yes, I do!"
"What Major?"
"Economy, but⌠It is really hard⌠Mum told me I should have gone to nurse school."
"She is right. Nursing is so much more appropriate for a young lady, and we are always in short supply of them."
"Your wife is a nurse?"
"I am not married."
Ah?
"You want her to work?"
"Absolutely not." He simply responds, sternly.
Your eyebrow rises at such a response.
"Why?"
"Work is not meant for women. They are designed for household tasks and childbearing."
"⌠You think so?"
"I know so."
"Oh⌠OkayâŚ"
"Listen to me. Study just enough to still be allowed in school and search for a good match. Once you get one, get out of here, or they will fry your brain." He explains, "I've seen so many good women lose themself in studies and miss their chance at founding a happy family⌠It is always so tragic to see."
"But I can't do thatâŚ" You tell him.
"Why not?"
"My father is wounded; he can barely work anymore. So they took on a debt to send me to college so I can make good money and support the family."
"You can support them by marrying rich."
"I know⌠But a lot of men do not take care of their wives' parents. They leave them to rot on the side while all their money funds their family."
"This is ignominious. What do those men have in the skull?"
"Plenty of my male comrades asked me to leave my parents behind for them⌠But I cannot abandon them like that!"
"Filial piety is also a rare resource in this day and age. You are a good daughter, Miss, a precious one."
"Thank you⌠I hope I'll be able to get by fineâŚ"
"I am sure you will find the correct man."
You silently nod, looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror.
You are all disheveled, and your makeup is ruined! Not to mention a strap of your corset top is dangling by a thread! You gasp in horror and grab your powder compact.
"Oh my Lord! I didn't realize I had such a face! I am sorry, sir!" You profusely excuse yourself, touching up the disaster on your face.
For only a response, you hear a short chuckle.
You let out your breath when you close your compact, having saved your face from dishonor.
"Here?" He asks.
"Yes! Thank you, Sir.
"Call me Ambrose, Miss."
You smile at him, shaking his hand.
"(Fake name) (F/n)!"
"Ambrose Allamand."
"Do you want to take a coffee inside, sir?"
"I am not sure this is very appropriate to enter your house as a stranger, Miss (Fake name)." He eyes your house, "I'd prefer not to meet your father's rifle."
"He is not like that!" You laugh at his silliness, "And you're not a stranger, you are my savior!"
And like that, you grab his hand and force him out of the car and pull him inside.
"Ma! Pa! I'm home!" You shout across the house.
"At this hour?!" Your mother responds, indignant, "You have exams tomorrow!"
You grimace, taking off your thin jacket and getting rid of your heels. You smile as you grab Mr. Allamand's black coat and put it in the closet. You guide him to the living room to sit on the sofa as you go grab a tray to put on coffee cups and biscuits.
"Who are you?" You hear your mother ask Mr. Allamand from the other room.
"Ma, meet Mr Ambrose Allamand, he helped me tonight!" You shout across the room.
"Do not shout. If you want to say something, come here!" She berates you, shouting back.
You shake your head with a smile and bring your full tray to the living room.
"It's nothing, Ma. He helped me with a problem earlier."
"Ah." She just says, looking at Mr. Allamand queerly.
You roll your eyes discreetly and lower the tray for Mr.Allamand to take a cup.
"A biscuit?" You propose smiling.
"Homemade?" He asks, looking up at you.
For a second, you are surprised by the depths of his eyes⌠They are not just brown, they have an amber and honey tint that illuminates them in the light of the living room, mesmerising you on the spot.
"I⌠Huh⌠Yes! I made them in the afternoon." You tell him after a short second of admiration.
"Then yes, thank you, Miss." He grabs one of your cookies delicately and gently bites into it, savoring it for a moment, "Those are delicious, you are a great baker, Miss."
"Oh! It's nothing really, an old recipe!" You laugh, embarrassed by the compliment.
"I am sure you are also a great cook." He adds, cracking another bite.
"I'd say I hold my own."
"You will have no difficulties finding a good man in those conditions."
"Thank you!" You cannot help but simper.
"We'll see about that!" Your mother retorts, grabbing you by the arm to pull you aside, "What did you have in mind, young Lady?" She whispers to you once you are in the nearby corridor.
"What?"
"A Fae!?"
"Relax, Ma. He just helped me."
"Tell me you did not give him your real name, at least?"
You growl.
"Do you take me for an idiot? Of course not, to him I am '(Fake name)', not (Y/n)."
She lets out a relieved breath.
"All right, he drinks a cup, and he gets out! I don't want someone like⌠Them in my house!"
"Try to be easy on him, Ma⌠He helped me in a dire moment."
"Yeah, yeah, a coffee and then shoo!" She repeats, clearly not hearing you.
You sigh behind her, your shoulders low, but reenter the living room with a wide smile.
"Is that to your taste, Sir?" You ask, sitting down on the other armchair.
"It is quite delectable." He nods appreciatively, "I should give you the address of a good coffee brewer, he has better beans than those supermarket ones."
"I'd love to!" You shut down the fact that real beans from a reputable brewer are an overpriced treat for you.
You fidget your fingers with the hem of your poofy skirt while he slouches on his armchair, at ease like in conquered territories, looking around him.
"Will it be okay? With your comrade, I mean." He turns his face toward you.
"I, huh⌠I do not know. I cross paths with him each morning going to campus⌠I hope he won't notice me tomorrowâŚ"
"I see." And he drinks his cup in one swift gulp and stands straight, "Well, it was short but pleasant, Miss (Fake name), but I am awaited."
"OhâŚ! Yes, of course!" You jump to your feet to guide him back to the door.
You wince seeing your mother already waiting next to him to shoo him out. You frown at her as she turns the doorknob and gestures toward the cold night.
Mr. Allamand puts on his long black coat and exits your small cocoon with a courteous nod and heads to his car.
"Is that⌠His Bentley?" Your mom murmurs to you, flabbergasted.
It has to be said that this shiny, brand-new car stands out a lot in your neighborhood.
He pulls out and leaves you with your mother on the porch of your small house.
"I did not anticipate that he had so much moneyâŚ" Your mom whispers.
You growl, rolling your eyes.
"It's not like I'm going to marry him, Ma!" You spit, returning inside.
"I know, I know⌠But maybe⌠Staying in his good graces could be a good idea." She follows.
"MaâŚ" You sigh.
You don't have it in you to argue, especially on something so stupid. Instead, you take a bath, put on your pajamas, and grab one of your notebooks for your exam tomorrow. But⌠After 15 minutes, you realize your eyes are drawn to your window, giving on the starry night outside.
You see the face of the mysterious Fae floating in the sky, and unbeknownst to you, you smile.
LightYandere! Fae husband x Wifey!reader â MDNI! TW: 1950's period, Light Fantasy in modern time setting, Fae!yandere, power imbalance, misogyny, pre-relationship, first meeting, attempted assault
[Part 1]
"No, Sean!" You repeat, hurrying your steps on the pavement, "I am not interested!"
"Come on, (Y/n)! It's just a drink, it's not the end of the world." Sean insists, following you around under the thin mist of rain.
You sigh between your teeth, the moon shining bright on the wet sidewalk, your heels resonating in the dead of night, more and more annoyed at the young man following you.
What does he think exactly? This is not because you accepted a dance with him that you will get charmed into the bedroom of a man just like that! Especially after what he said about your father!
"It will be nothing, you'll just enter and leave in a second!"
"I said no, Sean. This is inappropriate!" You retort, not even looking at him.
You're not especially reassured lately. A lot of your lady comrades in Uni have been attacked and terrified at night, and you'd prefer to return to your room rapidly.
You gasp when Sean grabs your wrist with strength to force you to stay.
"And what say do you think you have exactly? I paid you dinner and the ride here, and suddenly you are too good for me?!"
"Sean!" You protest, "You stink of alcohol! Let me go, we will talk tomorrow on campus." You struggle for him to let you go, but it's no use; he has way more strength than you!
"No! I'm tired of your nice girl attitude; you're no better than all of us! Come with me! It will be fun, I promise!"
"No! IâŚ! No!" You pull with all your might, but it is useless; you are so much more frail than the quarterback of the campus team!
"Come on!" He grabs the back of your head, lowering his toward you.
Your eyes open wide in panic, as you push with all your might, but it is a losing battle! You feel tears behind your eyes, and you open your mouth to scream, when-
"Hey."
Sean stops, and you both turn your heads toward the third voice coming out of the dark. You can only see the circle of fire of a lit cigarette burning in the night, moving closer with the sounds of steps and a cane.
Whoever this is, he does not appear very pressed.
"The little Lady said no." The melodious voice of the mysterious man resonates ever so closer, but still in the dark.
"That's none of your business! Move along!" Sean retorts, annoyed, painfully grabbing your hips to pull you closer, certainly toward his car parked somewhere.
"You should let her go, son. This neighborhood is not safe for young people like you."
"Or what are you going to do? I'm a quarterback, I can crush anyone's bones easily!" Sean shouts.
"Oh, I see. I am in front of a terror." The other man continues, nonchalant.
You did not stop struggling in Sean's hands, but even distracted, he has a grip of iron!
"Show yourself, coward!"
You hear a distinct sigh, before the puff of a cig, and a man appears under the light of the streetlight.
Or ratherâŚ
A Fae!
A tall, slender man with a face cut with a knife, long auburn hair, and shimmering wings in his back, lazily approaches you.
"Satisfied?" He asks, seemingly uninterested.
Sean spits on the ground, disgusted.
"You're one of those?"
The fae simply puffs with a raised eyebrow, walking forward toward you two.
"You see that (Y/n)?" Sean turns to you, "We sent good men to Europe, and they thank us by sending us their trash!"
"The trash is older than your country, boy." The fae stands right in front of him, while he stood several feet away a second ago, and huffs a large cloud of smoke in Sean's face.
Sean coughs, waving the smoke away, his fingers digging into your thin skin, making you yelp.
"How about you release the girl?"
"How about you make me, old trash?"
"But with great pleasure."
And before you can even see it coming, the Fae crashes the golden pommel of his cane on Sean's temple, projecting him to the side. Under the pain, Sean releases you, and you hurry behind the tall Fae, holding on to your purse desperately.
Sean groans, holding his ringing head, but stabilizes himself and spins toward his adversary and charges. Unshakable, the fae takes one step back before punching him in the stomach. Sean stumbles and vomits his dinner on the ground.
"Ba⌠BastardâŚ!" He manages to spit.
"Are we done? I don't have all night, son." Your savior taunts, puffing his cig.
Sean growls and, with a last roar, he sprints toward the Fae, who quickly ends everything by slamming his knees into Sean's jaw.
And Sean falls to the ground, inertâŚ
You remain frozen, absolutely stupefied, trembling in your sheer stocking.
The fae, absolutely unbothered, wipes the dust off his black coat before readjusting it. He turns to you, and simply nods.
"Miss."
And⌠Walks away.
You are left with the unconscious body of your comrade, all alone in the black night, defenseless.
"He⌠Hey!" You run the best you can on your heels after the strange man who just saved you. "You're going away just like that?"
"As you can see."
"You can't leave him like that!"
"Watch me. And you should head home too."
"How am I supposed to do that now that my date is unconscious? I can't roam the streets at night all alone!"
Finally, he stops. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in his black gloves, before spinning on his heels and returning to Sean.
With a growl, he lifts him up on his shoulder, like the man weighs nothing at all, and turns to you.
"My car is this way."
Without a word, you walk alongside your new chaperone until you reach a Bentley. He opens the door and throws Sean on the back seat before opening the door of the passenger seat for you.
"Miss."
"Thank you, Sir." You smile.
You manage to enter with your poofy skirt and watch as he elegantly sits down behind the wheel.
And rapidly, you are speeding through the streets with a roaring engine.
"We are going to leave him at his house, then I will get you home." He tells you, driving with such ease that you rarely saw in a mythical creature.
"All right."
You put on a facade because inside, you are a bit worried. This man saved you, yes, but was it really wise to enter his car as you did? You silently dig your nails in your purse, but keep it quiet.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you finally open your mouth.
"Thank you, sir. If you weren't thereâŚ"
"Do not mention it, Miss." He retorts, taking a mastered curve.
"No, really. It is not safe for us girls out here, latelyâŚ"
"I know. You should only go out with your chaperone."
"He was my chaperone." You explain.
"Do you know him well?" He asks, giving you a side glance.
"⌠No." You finally admit, "I just thought he was cuteâŚ"
He sighs, shaking his head.
"This is one of the things gone wrong in this generationâŚ" He laments to himself, "Youngs meeting without their parents' presence. Anything could go wrong, and no one could help you."
"You helped me." You remind him.
"It's different."
"How so?"
"I was passing by."
"Other people could be passing by, too. I have not yet abandoned all hope for humanity."
He silently glances at you. His eyes are not mocking, but you can clearly see he is measuring your common sense."
"Good for you. I did."
"Why?" You ask softly.
"⌠War."
Your eyes open wide, your mouth agape.
"Oh⌠I am sorryâŚ" You manage to let out.
"Do not be."
"You were drafted to Germany?"
He silently nods, looking at the traffic light.
"I seeâŚ"
"I do not think you do, in fact."
"My father was sent there."
He gives you a glance, letting out a sigh, his gloved hands firmly clasped around the wheel.
"Did he come back?" He finally asks.
"Yes. But⌠Not entirely."
"I imagine." He nods, "War takes."
You silently nod too, remembering how your father returned to you and your mother, the shadow of the man he once was.
"But Magical creatures rarely mingle in human affairs. Why did you enlist?"
"⌠A part of me felt responsible."
"Why?"
He lowly chuckles, finishing in a long sigh.
And that is all he told you.
"Is this here?" He points to a house on the side.
You look in our address notebook swiftly before acquiescing. It looks like a real Manor, with enough parking space for three cars, and you heard Sean as a pool in his garden!
"WowâŚ" you let out, "It is so⌠Big!"
The Fae frown, looking at the Mansion.
"Is it? It looks quite cramped to me."
You look at him queerly behind his back. What does he mean that the house looks cramped? Is his house even bigger? That would be quite ridiculous!
You both get out of the car to grab Sean, who moans in pain, slowly awakening. You each pass one arm around your shoulders and lift him to the door.
It is his mother who opens.
"Oh myâŚ! My baby!" She screams, discovering Sean's tumefied face.
"Your baby is a pig, Ma'am. You should make sure he receives a proper education before letting him around good Ladies, or that will happen again!" The Fae tells her, without a flinch or regard for basic politeness and courtesy.
"YouâŚ! Is that you who did that?!" She demands, horrified and angry.
"And I'll do it again if I have to. He was assaulting the Lady here."
Your mouth opens agape to be put in the spotlight like that.
"I⌠HuhâŚ."
"Is that true? My baby would never hurt a fly! I know it!" She insists.
"He⌠He tried to force me into his car and kiss me." You admit, gulping.
"If you did not dress like that, too! And you entered a perfect stranger's car?! Looks eerily suspicious! I think you both jumped him to rob him, yeah! That won't go as you planned, I'll tell you that!"
"I swear I-"
"We will see each other again with our Lawyers! Take it as read, you two!" She swears, out of herself, propping her son up.
"MadamâŚ" You try again.
"We have a lot of powerful friends, little miss! You'll see what you get for assaulting my son like that!"
And like that, she slams the door in both your faces.
"Charming." He just says, "Typical of a dominant woman."
"That's all?"
"What?"
"She threatens to sue us, and you just say 'Charming.'?!"
"I'm not worried."
"I am!"
"I can recommend a good law office." He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I don't have the money for that!" You tell him.
He considers you silently before turning back toward his Bentley.
"Get in the car, Miss."
You breathe with your mouth, slightly trembling. You don't know if the woman was serious or not, but if she was⌠You don't have the funds to go to court!
You sit back in the car, fidgeting with your fingers on your purse's strap. He readjusts his front view mirror and makes the engine roar across the street. Several windows light up and open at the sound.
And he rushes off like a shot.
"Maybe⌠Do not rush like that, sir?" You propose.
"I'll think about it."
But despite the high speed, you have to admit that he handles his car better than most people you've ever come with.
"Are you a pilot, Sir?"
"None of the sort."
"Really?"
"I just love speed. It reminds me of flying." He explains nonchalantly as he passes by other drivers with ease.
"You can fly with those?" You ask with round eyes.
"What do you think they are for?"
"I don't know. They look so⌠FrailâŚ"
He shifts gears with grace and speeds across a crossroad.
"Never say that to a flying creature, Miss. It is wildly offensive."
"Oh⌠I am sorry." You present your excuses honestly.
You never really cross paths with a flying creature until now, and Fae are pretty much nonexistent in the USA.
You look through the window, all the blurred lights you're speeding past with, the barely noticeable pedestrians, the illuminated signsâŚ
"You're going to University?" He asks out of the blue.
"Oh⌠Yes, I do!"
"What Major?"
"Economy, but⌠It is really hard⌠Mum told me I should have gone to nurse school."
"She is right. Nursing is so much more appropriate for a young lady, and we are always in short supply of them."
"Your wife is a nurse?"
"I am not married."
Ah?
"You want her to work?"
"Absolutely not." He simply responds, sternly.
Your eyebrow rises at such a response.
"Why?"
"Work is not meant for women. They are designed for household tasks and childbearing."
"⌠You think so?"
"I know so."
"Oh⌠OkayâŚ"
"Listen to me. Study just enough to still be allowed in school and search for a good match. Once you get one, get out of here, or they will fry your brain." He explains, "I've seen so many good women lose themself in studies and miss their chance at founding a happy family⌠It is always so tragic to see."
"But I can't do thatâŚ" You tell him.
"Why not?"
"My father is wounded; he can barely work anymore. So they took on a debt to send me to college so I can make good money and support the family."
"You can support them by marrying rich."
"I know⌠But a lot of men do not take care of their wives' parents. They leave them to rot on the side while all their money funds their family."
"This is ignominious. What do those men have in the skull?"
"Plenty of my male comrades asked me to leave my parents behind for them⌠But I cannot abandon them like that!"
"Filial piety is also a rare resource in this day and age. You are a good daughter, Miss, a precious one."
"Thank you⌠I hope I'll be able to get by fineâŚ"
"I am sure you will find the correct man."
You silently nod, looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror.
You are all disheveled, and your makeup is ruined! Not to mention a strap of your corset top is dangling by a thread! You gasp in horror and grab your powder compact.
"Oh my Lord! I didn't realize I had such a face! I am sorry, sir!" You profusely excuse yourself, touching up the disaster on your face.
For only a response, you hear a short chuckle.
You let out your breath when you close your compact, having saved your face from dishonor.
"Here?" He asks.
"Yes! Thank you, Sir.
"Call me Ambrose, Miss."
You smile at him, shaking his hand.
"(Fake name) (F/n)!"
"Ambrose Allamand."
"Do you want to take a coffee inside, sir?"
"I am not sure this is very appropriate to enter your house as a stranger, Miss (Fake name)." He eyes your house, "I'd prefer not to meet your father's rifle."
"He is not like that!" You laugh at his silliness, "And you're not a stranger, you are my savior!"
And like that, you grab his hand and force him out of the car and pull him inside.
"Ma! Pa! I'm home!" You shout across the house.
"At this hour?!" Your mother responds, indignant, "You have exams tomorrow!"
You grimace, taking off your thin jacket and getting rid of your heels. You smile as you grab Mr. Allamand's black coat and put it in the closet. You guide him to the living room to sit on the sofa as you go grab a tray to put on coffee cups and biscuits.
"Who are you?" You hear your mother ask Mr. Allamand from the other room.
"Ma, meet Mr Ambrose Allamand, he helped me tonight!" You shout across the room.
"Do not shout. If you want to say something, come here!" She berates you, shouting back.
You shake your head with a smile and bring your full tray to the living room.
"It's nothing, Ma. He helped me with a problem earlier."
"Ah." She just says, looking at Mr. Allamand queerly.
You roll your eyes discreetly and lower the tray for Mr.Allamand to take a cup.
"A biscuit?" You propose smiling.
"Homemade?" He asks, looking up at you.
For a second, you are surprised by the depths of his eyes⌠They are not just brown, they have an amber and honey tint that illuminates them in the light of the living room, mesmerising you on the spot.
"I⌠Huh⌠Yes! I made them in the afternoon." You tell him after a short second of admiration.
"Then yes, thank you, Miss." He grabs one of your cookies delicately and gently bites into it, savoring it for a moment, "Those are delicious, you are a great baker, Miss."
"Oh! It's nothing really, an old recipe!" You laugh, embarrassed by the compliment.
"I am sure you are also a great cook." He adds, cracking another bite.
"I'd say I hold my own."
"You will have no difficulties finding a good man in those conditions."
"Thank you!" You cannot help but simper.
"We'll see about that!" Your mother retorts, grabbing you by the arm to pull you aside, "What did you have in mind, young Lady?" She whispers to you once you are in the nearby corridor.
"What?"
"A Fae!?"
"Relax, Ma. He just helped me."
"Tell me you did not give him your real name, at least?"
You growl.
"Do you take me for an idiot? Of course not, to him I am '(Fake name)', not (Y/n)."
She lets out a relieved breath.
"All right, he drinks a cup, and he gets out! I don't want someone like⌠Them in my house!"
"Try to be easy on him, Ma⌠He helped me in a dire moment."
"Yeah, yeah, a coffee and then shoo!" She repeats, clearly not hearing you.
You sigh behind her, your shoulders low, but reenter the living room with a wide smile.
"Is that to your taste, Sir?" You ask, sitting down on the other armchair.
"It is quite delectable." He nods appreciatively, "I should give you the address of a good coffee brewer, he has better beans than those supermarket ones."
"I'd love to!" You shut down the fact that real beans from a reputable brewer are an overpriced treat for you.
You fidget your fingers with the hem of your poofy skirt while he slouches on his armchair, at ease like in conquered territories, looking around him.
"Will it be okay? With your comrade, I mean." He turns his face toward you.
"I, huh⌠I do not know. I cross paths with him each morning going to campus⌠I hope he won't notice me tomorrowâŚ"
"I see." And he drinks his cup in one swift gulp and stands straight, "Well, it was short but pleasant, Miss (Fake name), but I am awaited."
"OhâŚ! Yes, of course!" You jump to your feet to guide him back to the door.
You wince seeing your mother already waiting next to him to shoo him out. You frown at her as she turns the doorknob and gestures toward the cold night.
Mr. Allamand puts on his long black coat and exits your small cocoon with a courteous nod and heads to his car.
"Is that⌠His Bentley?" Your mom murmurs to you, flabbergasted.
It has to be said that this shiny, brand-new car stands out a lot in your neighborhood.
He pulls out and leaves you with your mother on the porch of your small house.
"I did not anticipate that he had so much moneyâŚ" Your mom whispers.
You growl, rolling your eyes.
"It's not like I'm going to marry him, Ma!" You spit, returning inside.
"I know, I know⌠But maybe⌠Staying in his good graces could be a good idea." She follows.
"MaâŚ" You sigh.
You don't have it in you to argue, especially on something so stupid. Instead, you take a bath, put on your pajamas, and grab one of your notebooks for your exam tomorrow. But⌠After 15 minutes, you realize your eyes are drawn to your window, giving on the starry night outside.
You see the face of the mysterious Fae floating in the sky, and unbeknownst to you, you smile.
Imagine your first love becoming your fiancĂŠ, until the weight of adult life slowly turns him distant from you.
1k words
...
You met when you were fifteen.
Old enough to swear eternity without understanding the weight of the word.
Your high school years together were simply unforgettable. Thinking about him feels like a giant wave of nostalgia and precious memories. You transferred to that new school, and he was the first to welcome you. From then on, you permanently entered his social circle. You made friends, yes, but he was the protagonist of your life â always there to laugh with you or tell jokes. You shared snacks and did homework together in the school courtyard until dusk.
You started inviting him to walk around the mall or just talk while wandering the streets, simply to have more time by his side. And he returned the gesture by inviting you to play old console games or feed stray animals.
God, you had so much to talk about. You were like two souls in one body. There was no hesitation between you, and that was the most comforting thing of all. Everyone at school noticed you two and started calling you âthe school coupleâ â even the teachers. You died of embarrassment but never denied it, and he laughed, satisfied, teasing you because he knew how much you loved it.
And he loved that too. He was obsessed with love for you. He holds your hand tightly, longing to never forget your gentle touch.
Never, huh?
When you finished high school, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend during golden hour by the small lake in the park. He was red as a pepper and sweating, even though he had planned it for so long â and there he was, stuttering in front of you. You had waited patiently for that moment, creating countless scenarios in your mind, but nothing prepared you for how perfect that day was. It felt like, deep down, you were already dating â but nothing beats a declaration said out loud.
Your first kiss was both relieving and electrifying at the same time⌠you were truly, deeply in love. Remembering that moment made your heart sink when you realized you had no power to turn back time. If you could go backâŚ
What exactly would you change?
...
The years passed, and you kept filling each otherâs lives more and more. You practically grew up together. Ten years of photographs stored in boxes, laughter captured in shaky videos, promises made while lying on the bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling as if the future were written there.
When you graduated from college, he surprised you with an engagement ring â and God, how you cried. He always loved catching you off guard because he adored your reactions. Finally, you bought your house with the money you had been saving since adolescence. It was the second best thing in the world. It was so cozy and beautiful, and you didnât wait long to decorate it with your shared past.
It really felt like a fairy tale. You fell asleep and woke up beside your beautiful fiancĂŠ, prepared breakfast for him before he left for work. You decided that he would provide and you would take care of the house â and it was a great decision, especially because you loved domestic work.
Everything was fine.
So how exactly did it all fall out of alignment?
Your husband got a job many workers dream of. But the job came like a shadow that didnât respect schedules. The exhaustion he brought home was sometimes unnatural â dark circles formed even when he slept on time. You did everything you could to try to stabilize him: herbal teas, massages, which he always thanked with a kiss.
But eventually, they stopped working.
He began refusing your help or changing the subject. You sadly chose to ignore it.
The exhaustion turned into irritation. That phase arrived like a slap in the face. You didnât blame him at all â how could you? He started grumbling that he was too tired for anything, arguing over small details: the food, the organization of the house⌠and then yours⌠appearanceâŚ? What? Since when did he stop liking it? You had always taken care of yourself the same wayâŚ
You started changing yourself to please him. You understood. Yes. But that didnât stop you from waking up in the middle of the night to cry in secret, replaying his words in your mind. You DIDN'T understand. Was this just your own drama? You werenât used to this kind of behavior from him â it scared you. You began biting your nails, questioning yourself. Maybe it was your fault for constantly irritating him, wanting his attention like an annoying child.
You started measuring your words, watching his mood to see if it was safe to have even a simple conversation. You never imagined youâd have to walk on eggshells around your fiancĂŠ. He was your soulmate. He still loved you.
âŚ
Still? When did you start questioning that?
You let out a broken, uneven sigh. Your chest rose and fell irregularly, and for a second it seemed like you were going to cry. But it didnât happen.
It didnât happen because you remembered the fifteen-year-old boy who held your hand and talked about the future he wanted with you. About how he wanted to travel with you, share hobbies, sleep on a mattress on the floor of the house you would buy together. You didnât cry because ten years canât be thrown away like a broken object. Because you still loved him â and for you, loving had always meant insisting.
Irritation turned into restlessness. That was the beginning of your complete mental collapse. He no longer replied to your messages at work, started coming home late, and when he did, he went straight to the shower and then to sleep. You werenât accusing him of anything anymore⌠but your mind began planting things â or rather, people â in your head.
Did he hate you?
Did he feel disgusted looking at your face after all these years together?
Was this the worn-out relationship youâd been researching on the internet?
Had he found someone else?
Was she younger?
Prettier?
No. No. No. No.
Had he simply stopped loving you?
There were so many cruel, filthy questions in your head that you had to go to the bathroom again to calm yourself down. You saw stars in your vision.
You looked at yourself in the mirror with unfamiliar eyes.
You are ugly. You are no longer attractive. He got tired of seeing your face every single day.
Someone predictable and boring.
You began isolating yourself inside the house, only leaving to buy groceries. You no longer had the energy to talk to neighbors or friends who called you occasionally. Your self-esteem vanished completely, and now⌠you barely ate and started avoiding your fiancÊ out of shame. You stopped eating with him and only went to bed after he was already asleep.
What a miserable life this had become.
How did this start? When will it end?
Maybe itâs already over, and this is the result. A man who must feel agony at the thought of lying beside you.
You wonât endure this for much longer.
This will build up and explode in a way you donât know how to face.
U said that u were terrible writing NSFW even though u like it, but could u give us some crumbs of ur OCs and sexual facts about them?
I headcanon old hubby has a pregnancy kink and likes a dumb and needy wifey who cries if she burnt the cake n cookies
Hitman I feel like he likes sensory deprivation kink and low key shibari
Ofc!
That old man was a complete dominator in his youth â you have no idea⌠he definitely has a breeding kink AND a pregnancy kink. What could he do? You were made for this, darling⌠just look at our children now, so independent and healthy. He regrets not having had more children while he still could.
He would be over the moon having a dumb little wife who only thinks about what sheâs going to make for dinner and ends up forgetting the cake in the oven. But donât worry, your husband already turned it off. See how you still need him? He would love for you to end up feeling embarrassed, becoming needy and teary⌠come into my arms, darling.
You were spot on about the hitman! That sick man has a sensory deprivation kink. He likes the idea of low-key shibari. But he needs to learn, because if he tightens it too much heâll hurt you, since youâre very sensitive. He likes you being dependent on him all the time. It sends a shiver down your spine to have someone who needs him. I think these two kinks are, in a way, connected to partner dependency.
So often for the skinwalker doppelgangers or the eldritch creatures fitting into the skinsuit of your partner theyâre a typical joe. A nobody that has no sway on people other than you and them. Either theyâve taken over the comfortableâsalaryâaverageâaffectionâhaving boyfriend or the abusive husband who you can immediately tell has been switched because they are so much nicer. The situation is so much worse when the host is an EmperorâWarlord over the Rising Dynasties of the World. A tactical decision to take over the strongest human available to them; without factoring the repercussions of a very complex and vital piece to the hierarchy of the time.Â
âThe Emperor demands your presence.â
â....Now? But my Grace is still on their walkâŚthey always go at this time!â
âMel itâs fine.â
âHe also demands youâŚ.bring your appetite.â
â...â
â...â
âHis eminenceâs words. Not mine.â
Being married to a tyrant emperor isnât pleasant. Even if you are the prized partner sharing the title as Consort to the Emperor that doesnât mean itâs smooth sailing. Considering the harem of concubines and their plots, the nobles attempting to curry favor, the newly appointed provinces by the latest conquests of your tyrant Emperor husband. Itâs like walking on ice, simply existing by the wrathful Emperorâs side is hard but being his spouse is harder. Obligation masquerading as a relationship is mind-numbingly torturous. Your familyâs assets frequently demanded of by the Emperor, your input occasionally over managing new conquests, and then the duties of the bedroom. Brutal, violent, hours dedicated to a man who feels so insecure and entitled that he must maintain the image of spiked pedestal of glorious victory on the privately and on the battlefield. Suddenly demanding you hold hands even in private and be honest when reporting your day.
âBaabbyy~! That mean advisor said Iâd have to wait to see you while I sign these papers! Wonât you visit me!â
The one masquerading as your husband is doing a terrible job and itâs up to you to repair the damage done and steer the thing with your husbandâs face the right way. Which means crafting a rumor about the Emperor having his mood lifted by the conquest of the surrounding kingdoms. That you advise the staff about mentioning âjust how good of a mood the Emperor is inâ and postponing meetings with the conquered leaders for another month. Lastly youâll have to put a wrangle on the one wearing your husband like a cheap suit.Â
âI donât know what you are but youâre not acting at all like my husband.â
âAwww~canât I just be in a great mood?â
âNot when you need to invoke fear among the court. If youâre going to keep being him you need to know somethings. Vital things that wonât make you stand out.â
âAaand this will not make others suspicious of me?â
âYes.â
The creature thatâs in his body is merciful. Something the Emperor would know nothing about. When you advise he execute the chef that served him something heâs allergic to, he sighs and whines. âDo I really have to?â âUgh that means the execution ceremonyâs gonna take even longer.â
So youâll have to remind him that they did choose the âEmperorâs face. Which means all the annoying things that come with it.â
For their goofy and childish actions in private they adapt pretty quickly. Using his olive gaze as a tool as deadly as his sword in meetings. Threatening to crush towns based on minor discrepancies like he used to and even executed rebellious staff without the blink of an eye.Â
Only in the privacy of your room does that change. Back to the relaxed, playful demeanor of the one who walks in the Emperorâs skin. Who delights in a play-by-play of your entire day and your expert assessment of the responses he made posing as the Emperor. Answering his many many many questions about the human race and the different customs. Always listening eagerly as you tiredly regale such simple truths before embracing the tug of sleep.Â
âMy spouseâŚâ
âYes.â
âThereâs something else Iâd like to ask you aboutâŚâ
âWhat is it?â
âMarriage is a sacred vowâŚone we have with each other.â
âThatâs correct.â
âThen why are thereâŚconcubines?â
It shakes the sleep off of you. The usually light tone of questioning about different sayings and court manners transitions into something sincere. Sitting up in bed you explain how an Emperorâs goal is to multiply, to make sure it will be their heirâtheir name that occupies all the Emperors and Empresses to come. They donât jump to the next questionâŚinstead wrestling with the idea.Â
âThen why donât they just impregnate you multiple times? Why have others?â
âBetter odds and Iâm politically more powerful then the concubines. If any should be born it will be I who rules until theyâre an adult.â
They donât speak. Simply staring at the ceiling as the night burns on. It isnât until morning where theyâre not in bed and your maid informs you of something grim. One of the concubines your late husbandâs favorite was missing and her room drenched in blood. It was a bizarre mystery for a concubine as guarded as she to be suspected as nothing more than a stain now. No one saw anything. No one heard anything. But thatâs all that happens in a Emperorâs palace. Only when all the sleuths are stumped and the room cordoned off do you question him. Which you expect a clear resounding ânoâ or even a terrible attempt to lie.
âShe attempted toâŚtouch me.â
The pieces of a puzzle fit at their horrified revelation. She organized a private meeting, likely done in secret to meet the Emperor. Something not above the normal for her with the original Emperor. Attempted to advance as their routine dictated and instead offended something entirely non-human. Something with a dedication to their spouse stronger than any temporary pleasure.
âIâve already promised myself to youâŚitâs blasphemy to let your spouse have another!â
When you do sleep with themâit itâs soft and idolizing. They touch you like a treasure and kiss over your scars with a reverence youâve never felt. Itâs now that you see the greatest change in character.Â
With this doppelganger you are a gift. One that they prize above the Empire, actively telling you so through every kiss and grasp at your robe. In no time at all they offer to execute the other concubines and only at your beck and call do they not and it is only at your command do they even emulate your late husband in public.
Because the second they assumed the Emperorâs identity they were promised to you. And should you ask that they revert to their true-self and eliminate all.Â
[author's note] f!reader x ex boyfriend turned kidnapper, domestic abuse (tw physical abuse)
The slap was deafening.
He hadnât meant to hurt you.
This was the one thing that heâd promised to himself, repeated in his head over and over as he prepared the basement and stalked followed you around the city before bringing you in. He had reminded you of this many times during the first few weeks of your abduction.
As if his words were supposed to comfort you. It was obvious they were for his own sake and peace of mind. It made him feel less like a horrible, horrible person; how could he be bad if he was doing all of this for your sake? Keeping you safe?
But it was evident now, as you crouched over in front of him, clutching your reddened face, that his motives were all wrong. What was that phrase? The road to hell is paved with good intentions? He couldnât keep the one thing that heâd promised you. You didnât need his protection; you needed to be protected from him.Â
For a long minute after his cursed hand struck your beautiful face, there was only silence. He stared at his hand in disbelief like it was a disjointed foreign entity and not an extension of himself. Tears were welling up in your eyes. You willed yourself to blink really fast and really hard.
âI didnât mean to,â his voice came out like a ghostly whisper. He didnât mean to do what? Didnât mean to hit you? But how can you not mean something you promised you would never do? Was it an accident? Did he accidentally raise his hand and slap you across the face?
What if you hated him now? What if you went back to giving him silent treatment? Would he have to beg you to talk again? What if you began refusing to eat again?Â
The questions began to blur in his head and overwhelm him all over again â the clarity from slapping you was quickly beginning to disappear, becoming stained with his new panicked thoughts â and his voice came out frenzied as he tried to reassure you. âYou were just-- you were making me freak out! You were saying all of these terrible things-- Iâm not a stalker or a creep or evil or whatever you think I am. Youâre wrong, canât you see that? Canât you see that this isâ I am â,â he paused to swallow, breathing frenzied, âGood for you?âÂ
You looked at him for the first time and you couldn't help but think about how pathetic he looked like this, hands hovering around you, wanting but too afraid to touch you; the way his sweaty hair stuck to his forehead; ironically, the fear and worry in his eyes. He swallowed again, Adamâs apple bobbing nervously.Â
âDonât look at me like that. Câmon. What can I do to make up for it? Iâm sorry⌠Iâm so sorryâŚâÂ
Heâd take one of two paths at this point, you were sure of it. Heâd either burst into tears and fall to his knees and take your hands in his and kiss every fingertip and mumble a broken string of apologies in between each kiss.
Alternatively, heâd keep demanding you look at him kindly, lovingly, sweetly, and when you deny him, youâd be met with another slap across the face. You werenât sure which one you dreaded more.
An even more cynical part of you expected a combination, the worst of both worlds: crying while punching and slapping. He had yet to say the phrases, âYou made me do this,â or "This hurts me more than it hurts you," but thereâs a first time for everything, isnât there?Â
He sat down on the cold floor in front of you. It seemed he would neither beg for your forgiveness nor continue to hit you.Â
âArenât you tired of living like this?â you asked him plainly. He let his head drop in shame.
âI am. But what can I do about it?âÂ
âYou can let me go!â you exclaimed a bit too readily. You began crawling towards him. You could see he was beginning to form thoughts in his head, ideas of disagreeing with you immediately.
If you said the right words, pulled the right strings, you might just be able to get yourself out of here. âWe can live like normal. Like the good old days, again, do you remember that? I can pack you lunch in the morning, and you can cook dinner, and we can go on dates togetherââÂ
His face was neutral, but you could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He was considering your idea! This might work! That was what he wanted, wasnât it? Domestic bliss? For things to go back to how it was before your break-up?Â
But then it seemed he was processing the break-up all over again. His face fell, and he slumped back onto his knees. âNo,â he said in a small voice. âYouâll leave me again.âÂ
âNo, no!â you insisted, taking his face in your hands, but it was obvious heâd made up his mind. He evaded your gaze and, for the first time ever, tried to pull himself out of your grasp.Â
it's a common trope for a shitty guy to be surprised that his wife wants to leave him ("she left me because I didn't do the dishes!" no, she left because you mistreat her...) but in the case of yandere!ex-husband, he truly has no idea why you want to leave him.
he'd rushed home like he always did every evening, clocking out not a second later than he had to stay at work, excited to see you. imagine his confusion when there's no sign of you in the house. imagine his confusion when there's a manila envelope lying on the kitchen counter, and within it are papers with the words PETITION FOR DIVORCE emboldened at the top.
he can't believe his eyes. this genuinely makes no sense. he slowly sits down on a chair, gripping the counter for dear life -- he thinks he might faint -- and goes through everything in the past few months that could've led up to this.
he's certain, absolutely positively sure, that he hasn't forgotten a single anniversary or birthday. shit, he celebrates your half-birthdays. work events? holidays? no way he's forgotten anything of importance, ever. on to the next point...
has he been... bad to you? rude, mean? belittling? has he left you unsatisfied in any way? nonsense.
his mind drifts to the possibility of you finding someone else. it's a fear that has always lingered in the back of his mind. his fingers curl into a fist and the knot in his chest gets even tighter. he didn't even know that was possible. he feels like he can't breath. you... wouldn't do that to him, right? wouldn't leave him for another guy?
no, no, no. he can't suspect that of you. surely he would've smelled cologne on you, or something. there's no signs you'd been cheating on him. you never stay out unreasonably late, shit, you never stay out late at all. maybe, he slowly realizes, that's why you want to leave him?
because he's too controlling? because he monopolizes all of your time and demands you spend every free moment with him instead of your friends?
what are the chances you found the box hidden in the attic? the collection of your things, the hair from your hairbrush, nearly empty perfume bottles?
whatever. he nervously bites his nails and simply stares at the divorce papers lying on the counter for a long, long moment. and then he finally notices the shiny little ring lying on the edge of the table.
?!?!?!
you've officially gone too far. divorce papers -- you're just being dramatic, silly you, he'll win you back somehow (or so he'd believed), but leaving your ring behind?
did that mean you were walking around in public without a ring? were you really looking to replace your husband?
Your writtings are so fire girly pop. You are inspiring me to write so thank you for that and i loved that last murderer yan.
About the murderer yan also, is he more calculated on his approach to the reader? (Like trying to make her fall in love with him) or simply telling her like 'oh i kidnapped u lol gotta love me now'?
You have no idea how happy I am to read this đ me being an inspiration? I feel honored! Thank you so much!
To answer your question:
Yandere Murderer was completely caught off guard by your approachâactually, you were the one who approached him first! I think that left him speechless, unsure of how to act in that moment. He isnât used to interacting with people unless theyâre his clients or, sometimes, prostitutes. Yes, he has desires despite being the way he is.
Iâd say heâs 100% the second option. He acts purely on impulse, and kidnapping you and taking you to his house was one of those impulses. In his mind, it wasnât about loveâafter all, he doesnât even know what love is. Heâs never received it.
It was simply his desire to get to know you, and how easy it would be, considering you canât see anyway. How would you report him? By describing his voice? Such a silly little thing. He almost feel pity. Almost.
Will old yan get any more content? He just seem so precious and I wanna kiss him lots and lots đâşď¸đ
He ok handling a girlie whoâs actually very affectionate and is digging his yan tendencies like kidnapping her?
I just posted something about him!
WHAT?! You like this?! That means you wonât be traumatized and wonât hate him! He wasn't expecting that.
You know, thatâs a HUGE relief, and heâs already thinking about the future. Still, he will definitely test you to see if your words are true. If you pass the test, know that you wonât be kept in that basement for longâthereâs no reason to. Youâll stay with him. Right, darling?
I made this a while ago and completely forgot to post it!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they?)
His affection is as natural as breathing. Youâre already used to how needy this man can be. Still, an old retired man wanting to hold your hand and confess his love for the 51,929,167th time is quite a sight for you.
B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Itâs funny to think about that, considering youâve been married for 30 years. Back in the beginning, when he was stalking you, he was already thinking of ways to approach you based on your personality. Your friendship was short-lived because you quickly started dating! He didnât waste timeâhe won you over easily.
(He was a huge heartthrob in his youth and many women flirted with him⌠Old!Reader was over the moon when she started dating him.)
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?)
As I said, this old man is needy and values his privacy a lotâand his favorite hobby is invading yours. You only sleep cuddling, and since heâs naturally tall (he didnât shrink much with age⌠unlike you), heâs always the big spoon.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
At first? Terrible. Get this man out of the kitchen before everything catches on fire. Old!Yandere used to live off restaurants and fast food. When he trusted you, heâd let you cookâunless you couldnât cook either lol, in which case it was microwave meals for a long time until he learned.
Heâs great at cleaning, though. Nowadays, you both cook together using recipe books, and when youâre tired, you just hire a cook and a cleaner.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Youâve been married for far too long to joke about divorce. He doesnât like that kind of jokeâdonât say it again. Old!Yandere will let it slide this time. Go to sleep, dear. Youâre tired.
F = FiancĂŠ(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How fast would they want to get married?)
FAST. HE IS DESPERATE TO LOVE YOU ASAP!
That said, he only marries you once you finally give in. YesâStockholm Syndrome your way into loving him back. Old!Yandere has iron patience.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they physically and emotionally?)
Physically, he has never been violent with you. God, never. He would never forgive himself. The cruelest thing he ever did was take away your freedomâwhich is already terrible, lol.
Emotionally, though⌠heâs manipulative. He can use his feelings, yours, and even the childrenâs (and grandchildrenâs!) to win a psychological battle. You always give in because youâre too tired to fight, you know?
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are they like?)
A huge hugger! Warm and comfortingâlike hugging your comfort plushie. He can hug all five grandchildren at once. No one is left out.
I = âI love youâ (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He was already saying it in his head back when he stalked you. Officially, he said it when he confessed and you started dating.
Nowadays, surprisingly, he says it moderately. His true love languages are quality time and acts of serviceâbut that doesnât mean he doesnât say it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do?)
When he was young? Not jealous at all. He was every womanâs dream. You were the jealous oneâbefore everything happened, of course.
Old!Yandere, though? Oh yes, he gets jealous of his beautiful old lady. Other retired men in the neighborhoodâsingle or divorcedâkept complimenting you for the smell of your cakes and pies, AND YOU OFFERED THEM SOME!
But dear⌠wasnât that cake for him? :(
He always walks with you to show how happily married you are.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Favorite spots?)
The cutest thing in the world. Heâs a true gentleman and a romance lover. He kisses your hands a lot, especially.
L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)
When he became a father for the first time, it was chaosâmostly because your son was a little menace. That phase passed, and he bonded strongly with him⌠since theyâre both yanderes.
With your daughter, he had no trouble at allâshe was an angel! Coincidentally, she looked a lot like her mother, so he spoiled her endlessly, becoming the ultimate girl dad.
He swears he doesnât have a favorite child!
M = Morning (How are mornings with him?)
Calm. You donât need to wake up early for work, but elderly people are biological clocks. Always up around 5 a.m. Coffee ready, omelets for breakfast, then your morning walk.
N = Night (How are nights with him?)
Fireplace lit, coats on, socks on your their feet. Usually you read something before bed or listen to music. When the grandchildren are over, sleeping gets harderâthereâs a lot of excitement!
O = Open (When do they reveal personal things?)
Iâm not entirely sure, but probably somewhere between the kidnapping and your time in the basement⌠yeah.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Againâheâs extremely patient. But that doesnât mean he tolerates everything. Heâll do anything for you, but keep pushing and youâll get burned. When he gets angry, itâs⌠a little scary. No one wants that.
Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)
EVERYTHING. Whatever he thinks he might forget, he writes in a notebook or turns into family album photos.
R = Remember (Whatâs his favorite moment?)
Moments when youâre genuinely happy. A trip, a meal you loved, a piece of clothing you bought, a recipe that workedâif he sees your smile, he photographs it in his mind.
S = Security (How protective are they?)
Very. Not just with his wife, but with the entire family. Donât fuck with him.
T = Try (How much effort do they put in?)
Listenâyouâre together because of his effort. YEARS of it. That says enough.
U = Ugly (Bad habits?)
He still stalks you sometimes even though you live in the same house. Itâs honestly funnyâprobably muscle memory lol.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Just because heâs old doesnât mean he doesnât take care of himself! He was immaculate when young and still wants to be handsome for you. Call him your handsome man and heâll melt instantly.
W = Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)
âŚI donât like thinking about what would happen if you died first. I think heâd try to kill himself with medication. But the family would be there to stop it. He would try to live for the grandchildren. He wants to see them grow up.
...Youâd want that, right?
X = Xtra (Random headcanon.)
He had a rock and roll band when he was a teenager. You like to tease him about it, and he laughs shyly. Heâs all red!
He was the singer, actuallyâhis voice is very beautiful.
Y = Yuck (What do they hate?)
Loud noises in the morning, bad music, when his children donât reply to his messages, nosy people, and gossipers. (He only likes gossip if itâs coming from family!)
Iâve been thinking about this for a while and I really wanted to share it.
Just imagine a yandere hitman who entered the criminal world while still a teenager.
His mother abandoned him after the divorce. He didnât really care tho, His relationship with her was very superficial â he never liked her that much anyway.
His father, on the other hand, was a drunk bastard who forced him to steal so theyâd have something to eat.
And he was very good at it.
He didnât hate stealing. He hated obeying that piece of shit.
It didnât take long before he âaccidentallyâ swapped his fatherâs high blood pressure pills for something bought on the black market.
From there on, he decided to stay in crime â but this time as a hitman.
Easy money. No being stuck in an office. No working at a convenience store.
A yandere hitman who was already cold by nature. Killing felt as natural as drinking water.
Ofc he gained a reputation quickly. Powerful men started contacting him â politicians who needed to disappear, rivals, personal grudges.
The amount of money he earned in just a few days was absurd.
Sometimes the payment wasnât even cash, but mansions, private jets, etc etc.
The job itself was demanding.
It required traveling from country to country to complete his contracts.
Thatâs how he met Blind!Reader â in a foreign country where both of you were strangers.
Blind!Reader had traveled there in a desperate attempt to feel independent. A last-minute decision.
Your parents treated you like a burden, locking you in your room all day so you wouldnât cause âproblems.â
You knew how to take care of yourself â how to move around, how to find things. But this was different.
You were in another country⌠and you got lost at the airport.
Wow. Brilliant decision.
Despite being careful, you were innocent about many things. You barely ever left home.
One of those things was believing he was a good man.
You asked him for help with something simple â directions to a cheap hotel.
He noticed immediately that you were blind.
How the hell did you notice him?
Despite his height, he was extremely discreet â something that helped a lot with his... âwork".
So this caught him completely off guard.
Really⌠only a blind person would ask him for directions. His intimidating appearance usually drove people away.
Out of pure curiosity, he decided to help.
It was supposed to be just that.
Curiosity.
He chose to delay his mission.
The gentle way you spoke to him stirred something in his mind. When was the last time someone talked to him like that?
Why did he suddenly care?
He had always been antisocial â and now look at him, doing a good deed.
How ironic.
He offered to help you cross the street, carry your luggage and guide your steps.
During that time, you talked a lot about yourself â excited just to speak to someone new!!!
The stranger barely replied, except to mention that he was also a foreigner in that country.
When you finally arrived-
Huh.
The building didnât exist.
At least, thatâs what he told you. It was just a bar full of passed-out drunks.
Panic set in immediately. What do you mean it doesnât exist?
Was it a scam? You had already paid for EVERYTHING.
God â not only blind, but now homeless too?!
The yandere hitman cut off your spiraling thoughts by calmly offering:
You could stay with him. Just for a few days until you found another hotel or an Airbnb.
Blind!Reader let out a deep sigh of relief and accepted with a soft, relieved smile.
What a considerate man!!!
Blind!Reader, that ever saw the smile on his face at that moment. It was inevitable, you were extremely naive.
I think we already know it wonât be just a few days.
