She always feels a little off, like she's unsure what to do or say now that it's happened. She might come off a bit cold but she doesn't mean it negatively. She just needs a bit of time to process it. Now, if you decided you were going to give her a bit of aftercare, she'd fall head over heels in love with you.
B - Body partĀ (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partnerās)
She can't get enough of your neck and chest. She could spend hours just kissing and biting across your skin. She especially loves running a hand down your front while she makes out with you.
C - CumĀ (anything to do with cum, basically)
She prefers when you warn her beforehand when you're about to cum, but loves cumming on your face and vice versa.
D - Dirty secretĀ (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
She's thought of pegging you but hasn't brought it up in conversation just yet. She wants to wait it out a bit before she asks.
E - ExperienceĀ (how experienced are they? do they know what theyāre doing?)
All of her experience is from the trauma she's gone through. She knows what to do, but sometimes she'd rather forget why.
F - Favorite positionĀ (this goes without saying)
Any position. She doesn't really care which one you do, but her go-to is riding you.
G - GoofyĀ (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
She takes it seriously and will expect you to do the same, at least for the first time. It's a big step for her and your relationship and she'd like you to seem like you're taking it as earnestly as she is. She'd get a bit angry if you were just joking around the whole time.
H - HairĀ (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
It's the apocalypse ā is anyone well-groomed?
I - IntimacyĀ (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Cait isn't a very romantic person, but that doesn't mean she doesn't try. She'll rub her hands along your shoulder in a loving manner, gently edging you on until you finally just grab her. That's as romantic as it gets, though.
J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)
She does it a lot more now that the two of you are together. It's still not very often and is always in private, but occasionally she will.
K - KinkĀ (one or more of their kinks)
Rough Sex, Voyeurism, Blindfolds, Sadism, Strap-Ons, Edging, and Riding.
L - LocationĀ (favorite places to do the do)
Always in private. She finds it more fun when it's just the two of you with no chances of anyone walking in and interrupting the moment.
M - MotivationĀ (what turns them on, gets them going)
If you make out with her after mowing down hoards of raiders, she'll immediately start the search for a place to go at it. Cait can't help but want to tear your clothes off after something like that.
N - NoĀ (something they wouldnāt do, turn offs)
CNC and having sex in public are both a big no. They make her cringe, but she's open to doing anything else.
O - OralĀ (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
She prefers to give. She loves the feeling of being above you as she goes down on you. She's almost always in control when performing oral and won't stop till you're begging.
P - PaceĀ (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
If it's not rough, then what's the point? She wants you to hit her with everything you've got ā fuck her with all the passion you feel towards her and she'll gladly do the same. The aggression makes her feel at ease and she likes the rush of adrenaline she gets.
Q - QuickieĀ (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Cait's neutral on them. She'll give you one whenever you ask, but she always prefers the real thing over it.
R - RiskĀ (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Always. Risks are the fun part about intercourse, why wouldn't she want to take them? Of course, there are boundaries ā like no public spaces ā but she's game with pretty much everything else.
S - StaminaĀ (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As many as you do. Cait could honestly go for hours, and will if that's where the night takes you both.
T - ToysĀ (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
She personally doesn't own any but would be willing to try if you brought some around. She'd probably even ask to use some on you if you were down.
U - UnfairĀ (how much they like to tease)
A little here and there. She has a habit of grabbing your face and asking if you've 'had enough yet'. She also wouldn't mind if the roles were reversed and you teased her in a similar manner.
V - VolumeĀ (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Loud. It's one of the reasons she hates doing it in public.
W - Wild cardĀ (a random headcanon for the character)
She likes doing body shots off of you. Adding a bit of alcohol into the bedroom always gets her excited.
X - X-rayĀ (letās see whatās going on under those clothes)
Patches of red hair and pretty pink pussy.
Y - YearningĀ (how high is their sex drive?)
Cait's sex drive is so ridiculously high, that it can be hard to keep up with her at times. Her trauma matched with her adoration for you make it so she's horny just about anytime she sees you.
Z -Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
She doesn't. She spends the night staring at you ā whether you are sleeping or staring back ā she can't help it. She is so certain she's in love with you and simply cannot find it within herself to fall asleep when someone as perfect as you is lying right beside her.
A/N: Just a short little thang I felt like writing. The idea of writing a smut w/ these two is very tempting š§š§
Incubus x Gender neutral reader x Succubus
Summary: Just a normal morning with your secret succubus/incubus roommates, nothing odd here at all
āHey, have you been going into my room lately?ā
You looked down into your cup of warm tea, sticking your thumb in to feel the temperature.Ā
Your female roommate scoffed, cutting herself off with a laugh.
āWhat? No. What kind of question is that, why would I go into your room?ā
āWell,ā You chest squeezes, your heart feeling like it was about to squish and explode. āI-- Every morning, my door is open. I never leave my door open; not when Iām not home, anyway. Iāve been paying attention to it more, and itās no coincidence--ā
āWhat are we talkinā about fellas?ā A raspy voice says from behind, startling you.Ā
Your hand shakes, mug slightly tipping to leave tea on the white tablecloth. Shit, this was your grandmaās.
Your female roommate, currently still cooking with her back turned to you, let out a groan of disgust.
āDidnāt know the beast woke up before noon.ā She chides.Ā
Warm hands fall onto your shoulders, holding them still as if to keep you from getting up.Ā
āYouāre up, Gabriel?ā You try to turn around to face him, but find that the male is already next to you, his warmth radiating off of him, part of it likely still remaining in the sheets he just tangled himself out of.Ā
āYou too?ā He frowns, unattractive lines forming on his pedicured face. āI donāt sleep that late most of the time, you know. I have to get up for work by 10-- usually.ā
āYeah, when you donāt have a āguestā.ā Your female roommate counters.Ā
āUgh shuddup Liz, as if youāre not the same. Besides, you know I gave that up a while ago.āĀ
For some reason, Gabriel looked toward you while saying this, you in return giving him a confused look.Ā
He massaged your shoulders, leaning all of his weight onto you as he nearly fell asleep again, yawning and closing his eyes.Ā
āYou believe me right, sunshine? Havenāt heard anything in these thin walls lately huh?ā
You cringe at how he shoves his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell so obviously it nearly makes you shudder from embarrassment. You wouldāve shoved him off if Liz had turned around, witnessing it. But she still was turned cooking, making breakfast for you. She made enough for all three of you to eat, but you knew youād be the only one with a plate when she was done.Ā
āCāmon Gabe youāre suffocating me,ā You pat his hand, hoping heād stop himself from reaching over the chair to hold you. But he didnāt, instead giving you a awkward hug from behind as he rocked you back and forth.Ā
āBlegh, donāt call me that; you know I hate it. Just gives me more of a reason to hang onā¦ā He says, noting the way you shimmy in his grip, trying to make him let go.Ā
Liz turns with a pan in her hand, dumping the eggs and bacon in it onto your plate, pulling Gabriels ear with her free hand.Ā
āLet go.ā She says, with a little more harshness than you wouldāve expected.Ā
āMind your manners, you never learned how to share.ā She glares daggers at him, flicking his nose as he backs off.Ā
Youāre too busy pulling at your neck, a wave of nausea and sleepiness coming over you, as if Gabrielās exhaustion rubbed off.Ā
āSo mean, bitch..ā He mumbles, stretching his arms as he goes to sit next to you. āWell, atleast I feel energized for the day.āĀ
His face has a newfound freshness, dark circles less ingrained as he looks around the room.Ā
Gabriel scooted his chair over noisily, sitting nearly beside you now despite your chair being at the short end of the table.Ā
You let out a small sigh of exasperation, feeling what seemed like bruises on your shoulders and neck. Had he really pressed that hard?
āStop messing with it, youāll make it worse.ā He said, bringing your hand down as you felt a strange indent in your skin.
āMake what worse?ā You questioned. Could he see something on you that you couldnāt? Well, you hadnāt looked in a mirror since you woke up.Ā
āWhat are your plans for the day?ā Liz interrupted, holding a mug with one hand as she sat across from gabriel, moving her chair with her other hand. You always admired the grace she seemed to have when doing things, her balance and lack of clumsiness making her appear so capable. If it were you, you probably wouldāve gotten the chair stuck on the rug, dropping the mug in the process.Ā
Her chair was close, but not nearly as close as Gabrielās. You watched her pour her coffee as you began to pick up your fork. Gabe held onto your other hand, petting it with his thumb as he grabbed a clean mug from across the table.Ā
Trying to pull your hand away, you found that Gabrielās came with it, holding on as if he was an extension of you.Ā
āGabe.ā Liz barked, watching the scene unfold. Gabriel was mid-sip as he let go in an offended manner, throwing up his free hand and rolling his eyes from behind the mug.Ā
She scoffed, muttering under her breath about his childness as she turned her attention to you.Ā
āSo, your plans for today, Bee?ā Liz repeated.
You perked up at the nickname, having not heard it for quite a while. You much preferred it over Gabrielās overly sweet ones-- It wasnāt even about him trying too hard, he was just naturally that sappy to a tasteless degree.Ā
You looked up like a deer in headlights, not expecting the attention your roommates were giving now, since they were previously so occupied with one another. But they both awaited your answer, watching you shovel bits of cheesy eggs and overdone bacon into your mouth. You took a scalding sip of your tea, some of it dripping down to your chin as you tried to hurry to answer.Ā
āYouāre almost as bad as Gabriel,ā Liz sneered, though with less conviction than she gave to the aforementioned male. āTake your time, donāt rush.āĀ
She pulled a napkin from the holder, grabbing your chin like a mother would to her child. Though, you didnāt feel the napkin grace your face, instead her thumb was wiping away whatever remnants you left on your unwashed skin.Ā
Satisfied, Liz licked her thumb clean, drying it on the napkin she pulled.Ā
āSo...?ā
You cleared your throat, licking your lips under the hungry gazes of your roomates.Ā
āUh, I really hadnāt planned much, since its been my first day off since--āĀ
āYou should stay home with us; what do ya know, I have today off too.ā Gabriel interrupts.Ā
You look towards him, a cheeky grin covering his face as he pushes his socked foot against yours, hip nearly touching your own.Ā
All of a sudden Gabriel yelped out, his knee hitting the table as Liz shot him a glare that you swore could paralyze. You hoped to never be on the receiving end of her wrath.Ā
āWhile I donāt usually agree with the dimwit,ā Liz commented, turning her attention back to you as her hard expression softened. āI think it could be nice to have a roomies day-- Just relaxing, watching movies, indulging in some needsā¦ You know, just simple things.āĀ
Gabriel nursed his foot, holding it as he nodded with a frown.Ā
āI could do your hair.. Liz could take you shoppingā¦ā Gabeās excitement had turned to slight pouting.Ā
You thought about it for a moment. Why not? You had hardly spent much time with the two, even though they always seemed to be around, sucking up your energy and time like vampires. You swore it was a mistake to have two extroverts as your roommates.Ā
There seemed to be something off about them too; something they wouldnāt say. But you didnāt mind-- especially since they had quit some of their more tedious habits like bringing nightly āfriendsā home, since you came along. You didnāt know how much longer you could handle the embarrassment of hearing their every move, every sound. Thankfully, you didnāt have to have much of a discussion about it, their one-night stands decreasing by the second week of your move-in.Ā
āAwe please say yes,ā Gabriel pouted, reaching for your hand as he bunched his own against the tablecloth, attention pulled back to you. āWe hardly get your-- well, any time with you. Cāmon, wonāt you do it for us?āĀ
Liz wouldāve reprimanded him if it werenāt for the way your frown turned slightly upward. You took his hand, giving a dramatic sigh and roll of your eyes.Ā
āDoes that mean yes?ā Liz questioned.Ā
āI guess so. As long as we arenāt going extreme-- I donāt need a whole wardrobe change, OR a new hairstyle.āĀ
You looked at Gabriel with your eyebrows raised.Ā
āIāll do the best I can to restrain myself.ā He cackles, rubbing his hands mischeviously.Ā
āAh, Iām excited,ā Liz says with a grin, pushing her foot towards yours. āI canāt remember the last time I got to go out with aā¦ friend.ā She gave you a smile that seemed out of place.Ā
You smiled back, slightly forced as her cold foot ran up and down your leg, stroking above your pajama pants as she gleamed at you.Ā
āWell we gotta get ready-- first, its my turn. I need to get you dressed and right for the day-- before missy here takes you for a shopping trip that counts more as an excursion.ā Gabriel pushed out of his seat, leaving his full cup there as you took another bite of food.Ā
āDonāt keep me waiting,ā He pushed your head towards his face, giving a longing kiss to your cheek as you chewed. āI know where to find youuu.ā He sing-songed, pressing a finger to your nose as he pecked the same area once more. He skipped back to his room, humming as he and Liz refused to break eye contact.Ā
Was it normal for roommates to be so affectionate? You werenāt sure, but the rent was too cheap and they were too nice for you to say no to his advances.Ā
āHeās right, its already eleven.ā Liz commented, her busty body already dressed in normal day clothes that showed off the right parts; You had to admit, you were a little jealous of how well she knew how to dress for her body type.
Liz grabbed her mug with her fingertips, pushing your hair back and giving a gentle peck to your forehead.Ā
āDonāt let him do too much, youāll regret it.ā Liz warned. She laughed a little as she walked away, your chewing stopping as you wondered what you had gotten yourself into.Ā
You quickly finished your food, feeling another wave of sickly nausea pressing into your sinuses as your head went heavy. You were going to need much more than your normal amount of strength to survive those two today.
āwherever you go, whatever you do, they'll always trail behind.
directory: part two here.
contents: yandere male x gender-neutral reader. yandere female x gender-neutral reader. only reference to reader/darling is 'you' and 'firestorm' as a nickname. implied murders.
notes: refurbished this old little thing, hope you enjoy!
As a child from a family who owned one of the most prestigious universities in the country, your recent transfer to another left you feeling lost, especially since you didn't know anyone. While you couldāve easily coasted through life on the backs of your parentsā power, your father wanted you to prove that you had ācapabilitiesā. Whatever that meant.
At the very least, you had enough allowance to afford a dormitory on campus. And maybe more than that. You spent some cash trying to make sure you could give positive first impressions, indulging in a few hobbies here and there, and before you knew it your first week went by smoothly.
You were able to befriend numerous groups and floated between cliques. And it wasn't long before your name was passed around and people were vaguely familiar with you. By the end of the first month, everyone knew you. You were being greeted in the hallways, given free things for your acquaintanceship, invited to every event... People were so comfortable with you that even gossip presented itself freely.
And while you may not consider yourself someone who actively looks for gossip, hearing about all the dirt on others helps you know who to avoidā¦or who to approach when you need something.
Of the gossip, one caught your curiosity: A pair of twins had just begun attending a month into the semester. But you didn't have faces to tie to the names people gave you ā The Mihailovs twins.
The circumstances around them seemed to spark intrigue amongst your classmates. You heard offhand comments here and there. Something about their origins, their sense of styleā¦and the hyperbolic rumors of a murder caused by one. You think the last one was blown out of proportion, but then again there was a certain level of truth to some rumors. You really donāt want to entertain the thought of a cold-blooded killer attending the same institute, you donāt want to grow paranoid before you even get to second semester.
You decided you could try to at least figure them out. Maybe they werenāt so bad? The opportunity to meet other classmates was also something you kept at the forefront of your mind with academics, though it wasn't very difficult to keep track of as long as you kept your priorities straight.
You first meet the older twin of the two, Vitalina, after participating in a debate in one of your classes. While you were trying your best to give your contributions, Vitalina was on the opposing end with her head hung low all-throughout. It was kind of weird, but that wasn't the only odd thing she did during class. She spent half of the lecture always alone playing cards. Sometimes, she was joined by other people who wanted to connect, but she seemed reluctant to spend time with anyone so they always backed away.
It wasn't until later that day in the library that you found her doing homework all by herself. She didn't seem to realize that you'd approached her at first, as it took her a minute to finally look at you. She stilled upon noting your presence, worried that you had caught her having difficulty understanding the material. And you did.
Her eyes narrowed as you offered to help, slowly nodding before she looked back down. "...Yeah." Her tone was soft. Sliding her paper towards you, her gaze remained distant. With her consent, you took a seat beside her.
You didn't realize it then, but you sealed your fate.
With your help, Vitalina was steadily able to keep up with her classes, and in the process, you were able to learn a lot more about her. You discovered that she had the tendency to be bored and detached from the things she became interested in, thus explaining a lot of her weird behaviors during lectures. However, the funny thing is that... She started to take an interest in you, and it didnāt seem like she was going to be bored of you anytime soon.
The changes were subtle at first, increasing inch by inch, enough for you to be unable to register them until someone else pointed it out.
Over weeks, Vitalina had begun to act strangely ā or, normally, which was unusual. Her hair, previously always unruly, was combed and taken care of. She dressed differently, in styles that you had thought to be attractive. It wasn't the same as before, but she seemed to be in a better state now compared to when you first met her. She talked more. She was smiling a lot, making small talk, and laughing along with you whenever you shared jokes with her during your only shared class and your time together in the library. She insisted that only you call her Lina, all while leaning impossibly close the more you physically backed away.
You thought she was clingy. No, not thoughtā she is clingy, youāre sure of it.
Her interest in you was the only consistent thing youāve seen since you knew her. At some point, it made you wonder what it was about you that kept her coming back. Sure, it was obvious that you and others began seeing her as a popular girl after the changes, but she never seemed to care. She was completely indifferent to it, only keen on keeping you close for as much as she could help it. And while it couldāve easily been suffocating for you, Lina knew when to snatch you up and when to let you go. You were able to spend time with your other friends with what little slivers of time you could scrape.
You wouldn't have any idea of the disdain she felt towards them. She started thinking that you wouldn't come back to her once you realized how much fun you would be having if you kept away from her. She couldn't have thatā No, she really can't stand the idea of that!
It was why she started to chat people up. It seemed like an overnight change. But to her, it was a necessary step in the long run to take the social reputation of others in her control. That way, if anyone were to do anything unsavory and threaten her budding relationship with you, she would be able to simply pull a string to ensure they'd never think of approaching you again.
She never stopped going to the library with you, making up excuses as to why she still needed you around even when you were sure she didnāt need any more help. She kept making excuses to keep your quality time together. She even brings you to go shopping from time to time, with her money always spent on spoiling you with whatever.
Even just looking at an item was enough for her to think you wanted it. If you expressed guilt at accepting all of the expensive gifts sheās given you every time you went out, it was quickly quelled with Lina telling you that sheās only trying to return how happy youāve made her by spending time with her. You couldnāt bring yourself to reject it all, not when she puts it that way.
Always unable to say no to her, and if you tried Lina was always ready to find excuses, reasons, ways to get you to stay. And it was peaceful that way, her neediness appeased knowing that you had time for her and you stuck to it when you said you would.
Then her brother ruined it.
Try as Lina might to hide it from him, he wasn't blind to the hours she spent prettying herself up for you. At night, he could always see light from underneath her door. If she forgot to close it, he would see her practicing makeup.
She wouldn't do this for herself, no. Varis knew better than that. If it were the case she'd have done it ages ago, so there had to have been a reason. It wasn't long for him to figure out the cause was you. And from what he observed during his time sifting through the photos Lina took with you, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Though that was obvious to him, he felt he hadn't discovered all he needed to know about you before deciding if you were a good or bad influence.
He wanted to observe you from up close.
It was a bold move on his part to sit directly beside you in the library while his sister was on the other side, he was sure he could feel Lina glaring his way when she realized it. You, however, were struck by the physical similarities between the two.
Lina was pretty, yes, but Varis was jaw-dropping. He couldāve easily been the most handsome man youāve ever seen in your life.
And as much as Lina wanted nothing more than to strangle someone of her blood, she didn't want you to think negatively of her. All she could do was sit tensely as Varis proceeded to make small talk with introductions out of the way. Much to her chagrin, he never left, opting to study in the library for a change with the excuse that the apartment was starting to feel stuffy. He didn't expect himself to like spending that study time with you though, considering he was never interested in socializing with anyone.
When the time came for you to bow out, the two had offered to walk with you to your dorm before they left for their apartment. The walk was silent, tension lingering in the air. For once, the attention you received from Lina was cut in half. When you asked what was wrong, all she did was flash a smile and say that all is well. And while you couldāve easily called her out, you had a feeling that this was a can of worms you didnāt want to open.
Reaching your dormitory, Lina bid you goodbye, wrapping her arms around you. āBye darling, Iāll see you again another time, okay? Just the two of us.ā Pulling away, you gave her a hum before walking inside your dorm to retire. You faintly wondered if whatever she had against her brother would be okay, but you decided it wasnāt your business. Maybe you can pry another time.
The minute you were out of sight, Lina turned to her brother. āLetās. Go?ā The bright tone she used around you was gone, replaced by clipped annoyance. Varis knew he had set her off, thinking that she was for sure going to kill him.
And he wasnāt wrong, the minute they entered their home Lina's first instinct was to grab the nearest object and throw. Varis caught her hand before she could let go of the flower vase. With her strength unmatched, her verbal yells came next.
āKuces dÄls Varis, what the fuck are you trying to do? Are you trying to kill them now? Is that it?!ā How did he know about you? Was he trying to take you away?
"Lina," Her shoulders tensed. "'m not takinā anyone." She didn't realize his other hand had gone to take something from behind him until the object taken had glinted in the dim light of their living space, a knife finding itself being pushed into her grasp. The implications were present, she could kill him right now. She can just bury the blade into the crook of his neck, drag it down his chest and watch him bleed. Itās so easy, he made it so easyā
āAnd yet, it's so hard for her to outright kill someone, unlike him.
Sucking in her breath, Lina pushed Varis and pointed the edge his way. "Try anything funny and I won't forgive you." His eyes narrowed, holding up his arms in a lackluster manner, expression blank. She was trying so desperately to keep you away from him. Why? What was it about you that had her so wrapped around your finger?
You and your effects on Lina were the only things on his mind when he retired to bed that evening.
The day after, he sought you out. He wanted to know you without Lina's presence, see what about you made her want to stick to you like glue. Though sheās never outright said it, heās sure that she wants you, more than sheās ever wanted anything else in the world. He cringed, feeling pity. Itās possible his sister mustāve seen you as an object rather than a person and thatās whatās happening. He never wouldāve been able to deduce that what she felt for you was anything like love.
But what would happen if he involved himself further? He wanted to make sense of it, and he had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last time he found himself face-to-face with you.
So now here you were, sitting in the library with your laptop open, trying to ignore how much Varis was staring holes into you. You were just trying to keep track of the things you needed to do before the semester ended, streamlining everything and trying not to miss any deadlines, then he just sat beside you without saying a single word.
Weirdo, you thought, subtly turning your head to look at him when your eyes met. ā...Varis, right? Can I help you?ā You were hesitant to give him your time considering finals week was coming, but if you had to stand another second being stared at, you might just bail on your plans of staying responsible.
āYeah, mind if I sat hereā¦?ā
Youāre already sitting there! You bit back your tongue from saying it, instead nodding. āYeah, I donāt mind.ā Not really, as long as he stopped looking at you. It was getting a bit creepy, even if he is a handsome man.
Varis, on the other hand, was perfectly aware that you were uncomfortable. He wondered how youād behave if you were, and judging by your reaction he understood how you were able to stand his sisterās clinginess. You were just too nice, or maybe too polite to decline. Maybe a feeling of guilt? Surely you knew his sister had no real friends, right?
Regardless, he wasnāt going to come to any conclusions by just observing. He figured he should come to get to know you as a person.
āDo you play?ā His question puzzled you, turning to see his laptop out and open as well. The offline dinosaur chrome game on the screen, and the absurdity made you chuckle and shake your head.
āDo you?ā Your reply got him quirking his brow, pleasantly taken back. A corner of his lips tugged upwards, feeling drawn to you at that moment.
In a flash, hours passed by. Your responsibilities forgotten as you talked amongst yourselves about your interests and games you played. The more time he spent with you, the more he began to be aware of a growing feelingā A selfish desire to keep you all to himself. He couldn't explain it, but he couldnāt bring himself to get his eyes off you.
He continued to pursue your time and attention after that day, trying to pinpoint a reason why.
And somewhere along the way, the need for knowledge slipped, and what replaced it was the rush of just being with you. And fuckā Now he knows. Now he knows why Lina had been acting strange, why she's changed, why she's so desperate to mold herself into someone you could desire. He understood, now all that was left was this feeling of yearning.
If Lina was doing her best to keep others away from you, he was making sure to erase those who he deemed a threat.
Slowly, people around you trickled less and less. Sudden decisions to relocate, disappearing into other cities, students turning up missing... It started to feel worrisome to you, but Lina was always there to chat you up and take the occurrences off your mind.
She knew who was behind it all. Had it been anyone else, she would've swept you along to a much safer place, taken you into her arms and told you what she knew.
She decided she needed to have a chat with the man behind it.
When Lina finally confronted her brother, ready to fight; Varis could only keep seated, relaxed. During the time she was unable to face him, he had been contemplating. He didn't want to kill his sister, but he will if she tries to trick you away from him, his parents would know and people might catch on. While he was able to outrank her in strength, she would still be able to leave evidence on him. And if she succeeded in killing him instead, she would have difficulty disposing of the body privately.
You would inevitably find out, either way. And you would come to hate them both. That's why he has another idea in mind.
"I know a way to get what we both want." His words struck Lina dumbfounded yet guarded, he took her inaction cue for him to continue.
The next time you saw either of them, they were together. It was a surprise, given that both often spent time with you separately. When they noticed you, they glued themselves to your side in a matter of seconds. Lina had wrapped her arms around one of yours with a sweet smile, and Varis blankly towered comfortably over you with a hand around your shoulders.
Lina started affectionately calling you firestorm, and when you asked why she chose to call you that, she only gave a vague answer.
āBecause weāre drawn to you, silly!ā ā¦Whatever that meant.
Everything went by smoothly during the next few times you hung out with them, not a single ounce of hostility shared between either. You weren't incredibly dense enough to pick up on the fact that the twins had their disagreements, so you were simply glad they'd set aside whatever was driving a wedge between them.
In turn, they were spoiling you little by little. Lina's always inviting you to try new things together, while Varis always somehow keeps himself physically close and acts as a source of comfort. You'd receive gifts of things you needed or were running out of, and it essentially came to the point where the three of you were always together even on campus.
It was only a matter of time before they would decide it was time to whisk you away.
And they'd make sure you would have no reason to refuse.
blowjobs, knife play, degrading, large bottom, small top āą±Øą§Ėā”Ė ą£Ŗ
You were out and about camping on a little trip with your friends when he first had seen you, staring and blinking over at you like a frog. Something inside his cold body came back to life like a zombie breathing air once again. He had to have you and he would have you no matter what he had to do or who he had to clear. Taking you in the middle of the night after dealing with your friends, heād have you dragged back to his cabin and just stare at your sleeping form for hours.
Heād blink over at you blushing under his mask obsessing over your every muscle and your short frame, you woke up screaming shouting any sort of insult just trying to escape only to fail each time with him frowning and locking you back up in his bedroom. āIām not your fucking pet you big idiot! You canāt keep me!ā Youād shout at him angrily but heād only tilt his head as though he didnāt understand what you were speaking to him but he did understand you were upset by the tone you were using.
The slasher would keep you for months, heād feed you and cling to you leaving you never alone because he was by your side each and every hour of the day. His arms held you in a bone crushingly tight spooning position in bed leaving you conflicted on how you could fall for a man like him? Maybe you were in live or maybe it was all the stressful hormones combined with the built up Stockholm syndrome that had you all over him by the end of the second month.
The first time you had sex with him was during your most recent escape, you found his knife, you tried to attack him from behind but with his tall stature you failed only having him on top of you pinning you to the ground. not before you shoved the knife against him threatening him going feral in anger. The hard feeling beneath you is what brought your mind to a clearer thinking. He was hard, how could he possibly be hard in a situation like this? You just tried to kill him and make your escape āare you seriously fucking hard right now? Youāre a horny gain arentācha!ā Youād mock him feeling a smile creeping on your face.
Not even thirty minutes later youāre completely stripped holding him up on top of you with your hand shakily holding the knife to his thigh only grunting when he lifts himself up and down on your cock āo-oh shit, wasnāt expecting thisā the slasher is even more infatuated with you at this point, the size of your cock had him intimidated at first when he seen a proud seven and a halfā eight inches when hard cock looking at him for the first time since this was his first sexual encounter, shockingly sex wasnāt common for a crazed serial killer.
After that moment on the kitchen floor of his cabin this manās silent and cold demeanor shifts into more, you fucked him into being domestic, wanting to make you happy trying to get you to want to willingly stay with him even if it means he had to please you. His face in your balls with his knife thrown to the ground while he attempts to give you a blow job ācāmon you can take a little more right, youāre a big man so shove it a little down that throatā you couldnāt help but be cruel to him with your hand gripping the rubber backing of his mask and forcing his face down on your crotch reminding him that while he kidnapped you, he lacked all his control when you were in the mix.
When you finally come around to the slasher, youāre grueling with him in sex, your arms would wrap around his body jerking your hips harshly between his thighs fucking him like a manic and pulling his mask back making him groan feeling more exposed and vulnerable before you, āare all serial killers preening sluts?ā You couldnāt help but just egg him, not when you felt his walls gripping you back every time you spoke them making you a mess burying your face into his chest heaving and moaning on top of him fucking him like you need it.
yandere! popular girl x gn!reader x yandere emo boy
A/n: "Mimi" is 18 years old and a senior! This post is nsfw so minors do not interact! Sorry for the shitty ending, I'm too sleepy
šyandere! Popular girl who first introduced herself as "Mimi", refusing to tell you her real name as she found you sitting alone at lunch. Riley having left to go and get a lunch for himself
"saw you by yourself and I couldn't leave such a cute thing all by their lonesome! What's your name sweetheart?"
šŗMimi follows you everywhere, much to Riley's displeasure, she quickly becomes someone fun and reliable for you to hang out with. You never seemed to notice the tension she had with the aforementioned goth
š·Mimi slowly pushes the boundaries of your friendship, Getting very touchy feely and claiming it was how she was with all her friends! Which isn't much of a lie since you've seen how she acts the same with them.. but still, you could swear she was more personal with you..
šMimi starts getting dirty thoughts of you 3 months into your friendship, desperately needing to touch herself to get some relief. It was such a problem since she had a high sex drive, just a horny virgin really
"ah.. hah.. babydoll.. fuck, wish you were here.. wonder how you'd take care of me.. ah..! cumming.."
šŗMimi secretly has low self esteem and confidence, seeing you as her only saving light despite being surrounded by people who love her. She doesn't need them! All she wants is you.
š·Riley and Mimi who start getting sexually frustrated because you're either so dense to their advances or you're just choosing to ignore the signs. They come to an agreement to satisfy eachother until they can get you, whoever reaches you first wins fair and square
"Riley! Slow down, w-wait not inside-!?"
"...whoops"
"goddamnit Riley... You're so lucky I'm on the pill.."
šRiley and Mimi who slowly start falling in love, their dates often involving stalking you and/or mutually masturbating to hearing you get yourself off in your room, through the camera Mimi hid under your bed one time when she was over
šŗMimi has a big breeding kink, and loves it when she gets her clit slapped. Cumming almost instantly. Riley is more than happy to help. (They totally aren't planning on going 10x more roughly on you)
š·Mimi and Riley who kidnap you as soon as you all graduate, keeping you locked in Riley's basement. Mimi moves in soon after and they both take turns going out to work or looking after you
šif you're afab Mimi will beg Riley to knock you both up once you're financially stable. If you're amab Mimi will beg you to give her a baby. She's desperate okay
šŗ5 years later they managed to forge a three-way marriage contract, keeping it under wraps as you're all now legally married! Congrats to the happy couple
š·Mimi is incredibly happy, but she can also feel her grip on reality slipping.. hm,must be nothing, right?
The USS Arleigh Burke (DDG-51) pitched and rolled violently as it struggled through the raging North Atlantic storm, its bow rising and crashing into the black, foam-capped waves with the force of a battering ram. The wind screamed through the shipās mast, rattling the radar arrays and sensors mounted atop the superstructure, while rain lashed the deck in thick, stinging sheets. The sky was a swirling mass of dark gray clouds, their bellies flashing with the occasional flicker of lightning, casting jagged streaks of light across the churning ocean. Visibility was nonexistent beyond a few dozen yardsābeyond that was only the void, an unrelenting wall of water and wind that had swallowed them whole.
Somewhere out there, the fleet was moving without themāa vast armada of American, British, French, and Norwegian warships and landing vessels, all steaming toward the northern Soviet stronghold of Murmansk. After thirty-six years of war, since the day Soviet and Warsaw Pact forces poured through the Berlin Wall in 1953, the world had become little more than a battlefield, a wasteland of attrition, with nations locked in an endless cycle of violence. And now, in 1989, the war still raged, with Murmansk as the next target in the Westās desperate push to break the Soviet war machine. But the Arleigh Burke, one of the most advanced warships in the American fleet, was lostāseparated from the invasion force, alone in the freezing hell of the North Atlantic, with no way of knowing if they were steaming toward safety or straight into the jaws of a Soviet hunter-killer group.
Inside the bridge, the tension was suffocating. The space was alive with flashing indicator lights, the sharp electronic hum of radar and sonar equipment, and the tense voices of officers and enlisted men desperately trying to regain their bearings. Commander Thomas Garrett stood at the center, gripping the edge of the chart table, his knuckles white from the strain as the deck shifted unpredictably beneath him. His sharp eyes flickered between the rain-streaked windows and the flickering navigation displays, but neither gave him any comfort.
"Navigation, where the hell are we?" Garrett snapped over the din, his voice barely carrying over the stormās howl.
"Sir, GPS is downāinterference from the storm," Lt. Junior Grade Mathis, the navigator, called back, his hands working feverishly over the plotting table. "Weāve been dead reckoning for the past hour, but these swells are throwing off our estimates. Last confirmed position put us north of Sweden, but without a visual fix, I canāt say for sure."
Garrett clenched his jaw. "Comms, tell me youāve got something."
"Nothing, sir," came the frustrated response from Lieutenant Ramirez, head of communications. "SATCOMās fried in this weather, and HF is nothing but static. Even ELFās spottyāstormās playing hell with long-range transmissions. We might be able to raise one of the subs if we hold transmission long enough, but itās a long shot."
Garrett exhaled sharply, glancing at his Executive Officer, Commander Bill Carter, a grizzled veteran with deep lines carved into his face from years of war. Carter stood with arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his posture was clear.
"Weāve got two choices," Carter said, speaking low enough for only Garrett to hear. "Oneāwe hold position, ride this bastard out, and hope the fleet circles back for us. Twoāwe push east, try to slip under the storm and reestablish contact."
Garrett frowned. "Push east where? We could be sailing right into a Soviet patrol line, Bill."
"Or we could get back to the fleet and not miss the landing," Carter countered, his voice firm. "Weāre needed at Murmansk, sir. If we donāt make it, those Marines and Royal Commandos are going in with one less destroyer covering them. The fleetās counting on us."
Garrett knew he was right. The USS Arleigh Burke was more than just another ship in the fleetāit was a spearhead
Beneath the raging storm, in the crushing black depths of the Arctic Ocean, K-27B Komsomolets moved like a phantom. The Soviet attack submarine, a heavily modified offshoot of the Victor III-class, was built for exactly this kind of huntāsilent, patient, and deadly. For the past two hours, she had been shadowing the USS Arleigh Burke, stalking her through the storm like a predator trailing wounded prey. The Americans didnāt know it yet, but they were no longer alone.
Inside Komsomolets, the control room was bathed in dim red lighting, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of instrument panels and sonar displays. The atmosphere was thick with tension, but not a word was spoken above a whisper. Every man aboard knew his job, and every movement was made with careful, deliberate precision. Captain 2nd Rank Alexei Gromov stood near the periscope housing, eyes locked on the tactical display. His crew worked with the quiet discipline drilled into them through years of serviceāthere was no need for orders beyond the occasional low-toned command.
"Contact still holding steady, bearing zero-eight-five," Senior Lieutenant Mikhailov, the sonar officer, reported in a hushed voice. His headphones were pressed tight over his ears, listening for the telltale signature of the American destroyerās LM2500 gas turbinesāa sound unmistakable even in the chaos of the storm above. "They have no idea weāre here."
"Range?" Gromov asked, his voice calm, almost casual.
"Four thousand meters. Closing, but slow. Theyāre likely adjusting course," Mikhailov replied, eyes never leaving his screen. "No active sonar pings, no rapid turnsāstandard lost-ship behavior."
Gromov nodded. The Arleigh Burke was a formidable opponentāAegis-class radar, sonar arrays, towed decoys, and a magazine full of anti-submarine rockets and torpedoesābut she was blind in this weather. The storm disrupted their sensors, and they were relying on dead reckoning to find their way back to the fleet. That made them vulnerable.
The K-27B was equipped with MGK-540 "Skat-3" sonar, a system that had proven itself capable of detecting American ships well before they ever knew a submarine was in the area. More importantly, her anechoic coating and improved noise-dampening technology made her a ghost in the water. Even if the Arleigh Burke decided to sweep with passive sonar, all they would hear was the roar of the storm.
"Weapons status?" Gromov asked, eyes flicking toward the torpedo control console.
"Four Type 65-76A torpedoes loaded, tubes one through four. All systems green," reported the weapons officer, a young but seasoned Lieutenant Stepanov. "We can fire on your command, Comrade Captain."
Gromov folded his arms. He had no orders to attackāonly to observe, report, and, if the Americans got too close to Soviet territorial waters, eliminate. His orders were to let the Americans make the first mistake. If they turned their active sonar on, if they altered course into contested waters, if they even hinted at detecting himāhe would strike.
He glanced at the plotting table. The Arleigh Burke was still straying dangerously close to Soviet-patrolled waters. If they kept their current heading, they would be within engagement range of Murmanskās coastal defenses within a few hours. The fleet they were searching for was likely steaming ahead without themāan American warship alone in these waters was an opportunity the Soviets wouldnāt ignore.
Gromov took a slow breath, considering his options. "Hold position. Maintain shadowing distance. Keep tracking but do not engage unless ordered," he said, his voice cool and measured. "Let them wander a little longer."
Mikhailov smirked slightly under his breath. "Poor bastards," he muttered.
Gromov said nothing. He just watched the silent hunt unfold, knowing full well that the USS Arleigh Burke had no idea she was being followed by something that could end her in a matter of minutes.
For hours, K-27B Komsomolets stalked the USS Arleigh Burke, its silent presence masked beneath the thunderous chaos of the storm. The American destroyer, blind and lost, continued on its erratic course, trying desperately to reestablish contact with its fleet. But there was no fleetānot here. If they had been anywhere close, the Soviet submarineās sonar would have picked up the distant hum of turbine engines or the steady ping of radar sweeps. There was nothing. The Arleigh Burke was truly alone.
Captain Alexei Gromov stood motionless near the periscope, his face illuminated only by the dim red light of the control room. He had hoped the Americans would unwittingly lead him to the invasion force, allowing Soviet naval command to position their own assets for an ambush. Instead, they had led him nowhere. They were drifting toward deeper waters, away from the primary invasion corridor, and if he let them go much farther, they might slip away entirely.
The radio operator, Senior Lieutenant Petrov, adjusted his headset, listening intently to the encoded message coming in on the low-frequency ELF transmission. When he finally turned, his face was unreadable.
"Captain," Petrov said. "Orders from Northern Fleet Command. We are to sink the target immediately. No survivors."
A silence settled over the control room, thick and suffocating. Every officer within earshot straightened slightly, their expressions unreadable, but the weight of the order was clear. This was no longer an observation mission. This was an execution.
Gromov inhaled slowly, his fingers tightening behind his back. It was not an order he had been hoping for, nor one he particularly relished. The USS Arleigh Burke was a fine warship, and her crew had fought in this war as long as he had. But war had no room for sentiment. The Americans would not hesitate to sink a Soviet vessel in the same situation.
"Helm," Gromov said quietly, his voice smooth but firm. "Adjust courseābearing zero-eight-seven, speed five knots. Bring us into the optimal firing position."
"Zero-eight-seven, five knots, aye," the helmsman repeated, hands steady as he made the adjustments.
"Mikhailov," Gromov continued, turning to the sonar officer, "confirm firing solution."
"Target remains steady on bearing zero-nine-zero. Range: 3,500 meters. No course corrections. They still donāt know weāre here," Mikhailov reported, eyes fixed on the sonar screen. "We have a clean shot."
"Good," Gromov said. His gaze shifted to Lieutenant Stepanov, the weapons officer. "Prepare tubes one through four. Load two Type 65-76A torpedoes and two USET-80s. Set warheads to maximum yield."
Stepanov acknowledged the order without hesitation. The Type 65-76A torpedoes were designed for killing carrier groupsāmassive 24-inch weapons, capable of ripping a warship in half with their high-explosive warheads and 50-kilometer range. The USET-80s, though smaller, were reliable and extremely maneuverable, ideal for ensuring a confirmed kill if the first strike didnāt finish the job.
The quiet hum of machinery filled the control room as the massive torpedoes were silently cycled into position. A moment later, Stepanovās voice cut through the stillness:
"Tubes one through four ready and flooded. Target locked. Awaiting launch authorization."
Gromov took a slow breath, then nodded once. "Fire tubes one and two."
"Firing one and two!"
There was a low mechanical thump as compressed air ejected the torpedoes into the freezing depths. They drifted momentarily before their engines ignited, streaking toward the Arleigh Burke at over 50 knots, their guidance systems locked onto the American destroyerās hull signature.
Inside the bridge of the USS Arleigh Burke, they never saw it coming.
The first Type 65-76A torpedo struck the USS Arleigh Burke amidships, port side, just below the waterline. The explosion was instantaneous and catastrophicāa massive detonation of 900 kilograms of high explosives designed to kill carriers, now unleashed against a lone destroyer. The blast ripped through the hull like paper, sending a towering column of fire and seawater into the storm-lashed sky.
Inside the ship, the world turned upside down.
The bridge erupted into chaos as the impact sent a violent shockwave through the vessel. LCDR Mark Talbot, the shipās executive officer, was thrown from his chair, slamming into the bulkhead as alarms screamed through the shipās internal PA system. Red warning lights flickered, and the acrid smell of burning electrical wiring filled the air.
"What the hell was that?!" Talbot shouted, struggling to his feet.
"Weāve been hit!" one of the junior officers yelled, clutching onto the chart table as the ship listed hard to port.
"Sonar, talk to me! Where the fuck did that come from?!" Captain James Weller bellowed, gripping the damage control phone as the ship groaned beneath them.
Before an answer could come, the second torpedo struck.
This time, the detonation was even worse. It struck aft, near the engine room, obliterating one of the gas turbines and rupturing the shipās fuel lines. Fire and superheated steam exploded into the compartment, instantly incinerating the sailors working there. A massive fireball shot up through the ventilation shafts, bursting into the passageways above and turning them into tunnels of flame.
"Main powerās down!" an ensign screamed as the bridge lights flickered once, then cut out completely, leaving them in near darkness except for the emergency lighting.
"Weāre flooding! Port sideās taking on water!" a damage control officer barked over the 1MC. "Engine roomās gone! Fireās spreading to the aft magazine!"
Wellerās stomach turned to ice. "Get damage control on itāNOW! Sound General Quarters! All hands to battle stations!"
Throughout the ship, fire crews scrambled. Men grabbed CO2 extinguishers, trying desperately to beat back the flames licking through the passageways, but the inferno was spreading too fast. In the mess deck, sailors stumbled over each other as smoke filled the space, choking out all visibility. Someone was screaming for a medic.
Below deck, the flooding was getting worse. The torpedo had ripped open the hull, and seawater was rushing in through the gaping wound. Damage control crews fought desperately to seal the bulkheads, but it was a losing battle.
"We canāt stop the flooding! Sheās going down!"
On the bridge, Weller clenched his fists. "Get a mayday out! NOW!"
The radio operator, face pale with terror, tried. "Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is USS Arleigh Burke, we are under attack! Taking on water, multiple casualties! Coordinatesā"
The transmission cut off as another secondary explosion rocked the ship, tearing through the port-side munitions locker.
Weller grabbed the bridge rail, his knuckles white. "Goddamn itāabandon ship!"
Dipper (nervously pacing, hands gesturing wildly): "Stan, I swear, the cops are gonna raid the Mystery Shack any minute now. Youāve been way too careless with the tax stuff! Theyāre gonna find everything! The fake receipts, the off-the-books sales... the whole thing!"
Stan (sipping coffee, unfazed): "Pfft, kid, they canāt touch me. Iām untouchable! Iāve got everything under control."
Bill Cipher (in the background, flailing wildly, caught in a net Mabel tossed his way): "HEY! GET ME OUTTA HERE! This isnāt fun anymore, you littleāARGH!"
Dipper (facepalming, trying to focus): "No, you donāt understand! Tax fraud, Stan! The IRS doesnāt care about yourā¦ questionable methods of profit!"
Mabel (in the background, gleefully swinging on her grappling hook, zooming past Bill and narrowly missing Stanford): "WHEE! Itās like a bungee jumpā¦ only with more strangling!"
Stan (still completely unfazed, shrugging): "Ah, tax fraud, shmax fraud. The real crime is how much the IRS charges for these tiny little bottles of maple syrup! They should be paying ME!"
Stanford (rushing to stop Mabel mid-swing, looking horrified): "Mabel! Get down from there! Youāll destroy the shack! And stop using the grappling hook on that poorā¦ what is that, Bill Cipher??"
Bill Cipher (still struggling in the net, deadpan): "You donāt have to worry about me, you weirdos, Iām just dying over here!"
Dipper (groaning, holding his head in his hands): "Iām pretty sure the IRS is gonna be the least of our problems soon, Stan!"
Stan (grinning mischievously): "Kid, you really think thatās the worst of it? Iāll make the IRS my best friendānow help me get this sweet deal Iāve been working on with the government!"
Dipper (sighing): "I cannot believe this is happening."
Harley Quinn: sitting across from Batman, legs crossed, holding a clipboard "Alright, Batsy, letās start simpleāwhy do ya dress like a bat and punch people instead of, I dunno, processing ya trauma like a normal person?"
Batman: gritting his teeth "I do not need therapy."
Alfred: calmly loading a shotgun in the corner "And yet, here we are, Master Wayne. Now, kindly cooperate before I must take further measures."
The Bat Family: all sitting stiffly on the couch, looking like hostages
Jason Todd: whispering to Dick "Blink twice if weāre being held against our will."
Dick Grayson: deadpan "We are absolutely being held against our will."
Tim Drake: half-asleep "Iām just here for the free snacks."
Damian Wayne: arms crossed, scowling "This is a waste of time. I require no therapy. I am perfect."
Harley: pointing at Damian "Aaaaand thereās our first liar! This is gonna be fun!"
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