#darling!reader

[msfantasy-taboo]

She’s Freakier than me

Yandere x Darling

Summary: Yandere kidnaps darling. A woman he’s been obsessed over… only problem is that she’s a nympho — a complete freak

A/n: idea taken from this post

Taboo: Captive + Non Con

Yan had no idea what kind of woman you were

He just saw you and fell in love

You’re just so pretty

He had to have you

And so he did— plucked you from the dark street where not a soul could witness your capture

After parking the van he crawls in the back where your wriggle and struggle in your constraints

Gag still tucked between your lips, muffling any sounds you make

Yan! Who rips all your clothes off and lines himself up

Yan! Who sinks into your core and begins to thrusts. Getting real caught up in the heat of kidnapping you and having sex with you— the excitement hits him hard

Yan! Who quickly unloads into you at the rush of it all— but no matter, he can just use you whenever he—

Darling! Whines out since Yan! Stopped thrusting

Yan! Who’s looking down at darling, completely absorbed with the sound you just made

Darling! Who bucks her hips up, trying coax him to keep going

Yan! Confused— but begins to thrusts his sensitive cock into darling especially with how needy she’s acting

Darling! Who’s releasing muffled moans, back arching, hips bucking up chasing her own high as Yan!comes undone again

Yan! Who sits back on his heels, feeling completely spent as he pulls your gag from your mouth

Darling: Fuck me again— but this time on my knees

Wait what?

[hearts4hughes]

— darling!reader and clark kent meet !!

clark kent x darling!reader warnings: lovesick clark (once again) note: so excited to introduce this au! send in reqs for blurbs or one shots!

the open sign is still flickering to life when you start tying your apron. pale yellow light spills in through the front windows, catching dust in the air like gold flecks. the bakery smells like rising dough and powdered sugar, warm and familiar, and you’re humming in that mindless and angelic way as you portion out raspberry jam into tiny thumbprint cookies. your voice barely breaks the silence. just a soft, melodic hum, like honey slipping over porcelain. it fills the space between clinks of metal trays and the slow thud of the oven warming up. your hips sway a little as you work, cotton skirt brushing your thighs, lips sticky with the sugar you just taste-tested.

the bell above the door jingles as the first costumer of the day arrives in, but you don’t glance up. you’re focused, wrist flicking as you pipette filling into a tray of buttercups. behind you, a man barrels in. tall and broad and so obviously flustered. clark kent stumbles as he regains his balance. his sleeves are rumpled, tie askew, hair a mess like he ran a hand through it ten times before stepping inside. there’s a smear of ink on his thumb, and his glasses are fogging up from the indoor warmth.

he was running late this morning after chasing krypto (his menace of a dog) around the house trying to retrieve his glasses. when he finally got ahold of the thick, black frames, he glanced at the clock—ten minutes until his shift begins and he was a twenty minute walk away. after hastily grabbing his things, he practically sprinted down the street and stumbled into the bright bakery. it wasn’t his usual choice for pastries and coffee, but the pink building neighbored the daily planet.

the door shut behind him with a soft thud and a jingle of the bell. when he finally wipes the sweat from his forehead and looks up, his eyes find you. you’re wearing a a pastel mini skirt and a pink top with a white, ribbon apron tying the outfit together. and your scent, he swears it alters something in his body because suddenly he’s breathing not just for sole purpose of oxygen, but to smell your aroma.

he swallows and blinks. his throat runs so dry that he cannot speak. then, he glances down at the floor like it’ll give him directions on how to not make a fool of himself. “uh—sorry, I, uh…” he coughs into his fist. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you finally look up. the corner of your mouth lifts, bright and open. “you didn’t.” you nod toward the counter. “we just opened. you’re right on time.” god, even your voice was something close to ethereal. you don’t know it yet, but he’s going to remember that forever. you’re right on time. he’s been late all morning. but somehow, here, with you, he isn’t. “how can i help you?”

he just stares for a moment. the thought of coffee and baked goods is far from his mind. he blinks again—hard—like that might reset something in his system. like maybe if he hits ctrl-alt-delete on his own brain, he’ll stop staring at the way your gloss catches the light or how your apron bows in the back like it was tied by someone who wanted to be gentle with you. “coffee,” he finally croaks. “please. i mean—yeah, just coffee.”

you nod, already moving toward the espresso machine. he watches as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers delicate and precise. your nails are painted, soft and pink. everything about you is soft and pink, and he’s a walking stormcloud with mud on his shoes and a deadline in twenty-two minutes, standing here like he has nowhere else in the world to be. you hand him the cup a minute later. “cream and sugar’s on the side,” you say, smiling again. that same city-flattening smile. “unless you take it black?”

“i’ll drink it however you made it,” he says, a little too fast. he kicks himself mentally when you raise a brow. “i mean—whatever’s fine.”

you cock your head, amused, and he swears it almost kills him. “not very decisive for a man in a tie.”

he glances down, startled, like he forgot he was even wearing a tie. “yeah, well…you kind of scrambled my brain the second I walked in,” he says softly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. but he did and you heard it. your fingers pause, just briefly, on the edge of the pastry case. you don’t say anything, but your cheeks go warm, and there’s a flicker of something shy in your lashes when you turn away again. “so, um,” he tries again, voice clearing. “did you just open? i don’t remember ever seeing a bakery here before.”

you hum, the sound light and sweet, like a bird fluffing its feathers. “mhm. just a few weeks ago.” you twist toward a nearby tray, adjusting a row of frosted cupcakes with delicate precision. “but it took a lot of work. this place used to be hideous,” you say with a little crinkle of your nose, your disgust soft and endearing. “the walls were this muddy shade of brown and the floors had these awful green tiles. it felt like a dentist’s office in the ‘70s.”

clark smiles, watching you with the kind of quiet reverence people usually reserve for miracles. you run your finger along the glass case like you’re drawing stars. “but after a lot of paint, glitter, and sugar,” you continue, your voice warm, “here we are.”

thank god—he thinks. because suddenly, this entire block has a different atmosphere. clark sways where he stands for a beat too long, eyes trailing the movement of your hands as you adjust a swirl of whipped cream on a cake like it’s an art piece. he should probably say something else—ask for a muffin, maybe, or give you his name—but all he can do is look at you like you’ve tilted his entire day off its axis.

you glance up again, catching him in the act. “did you want to order something else?”

“oh! yeah. yes.” he nearly jumps. “i’ll just, um—i’ll take one of those.” he points vaguely toward the croissants, even though he’s not actually hungry. you wrap one up carefully, nestling it into a pale pink paper bag. when you pass it over the counter, your fingers brush his again. it’s brief, but it happens and it makes his stomach twist. “thanks,” he murmurs, gripping the bag like it might float away otherwise. then he hesitates. “i’m clark, by the way.”

“hi, clark,” you say, voice lilting like a song. “i’m y/n.”

he swallows hard. your name sits on his tongue like spun sugar. how can everything about you be so perfect? your voice, your smell, your complexion, even your job is. “right. uh, well…i should get to work before lois murders me.”

your brows lift. “lois?”

“coworker. scary. very punctual.” he shifts, bumping his hip into the door on the way out. “i’ll see you—uh, maybe…again. probably if you’re—still open. not that you’re closing. i mean, you just opened, so of course you’re open-”

you giggle, soft and bright. “bye, clark.”

he opens his mouth, then closes it. finally, he stutters a well thought out, “b-bye.” the bell jingles as the door swings shut behind him. you watch the empty space for a second longer, your smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth. then you return to your cupcakes, quietly humming, a little sweeter than before.

taglist ~ @leynetto @illumoria @witchofswans @mauvesmax @dollarbillsflying @jimmys-tiara @blushhbambi @sunnliqht @bugisastranger @whyistheskypink @soul-of-daises @take-it-on-the-run @hi346736 @iamthepawn @athenaluvsu @makiplan @replaythatrayrae @maralovescassianandmark @namgification @xsimbaaa @erisemptyskull @bangtanevermore @sugarplum444161 @ursogorgeous13 @rinakran @fran-the-man @mslflvrss @angel06babysworld @deafeningbearhottub @biancasisstuff @chamorunsmiles @fattynana @howiswhatawhy @kissmxcheek @mama-a-girl-behindyou @bribria @ryileeee @bbsaeko @allllium @differentcandycreation @claudiwithachanceof @yeonalie @lambmurdock @yurmom444 @princessofheartaxhes @frogalor @lil-angxlll @elladora-winter @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @iconicgorl @7-53-6-8 @yzuposts @existentialcrashoutqueen @timotheel0ver @xoxcharlottexoxo @bemybabyxos @eatingyourboyfriend @yyiikes @urlittleangelbaby @nebdo-a @maaaahhhiii @mistbornwithawritingproblem @misonesaturou @sarcasm-n-insomnia

[callme-holly]

HIII new anon can i pretty pretty please req darling! reader with dally (this is my first time requesting you can do like whatever prompt idk🙁)

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ˎˊ

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. in which you & dallas despise each other equally but keep drifting back to one another regardless 𝐚/𝐧: tysm for the req honey! i had some fun with this, but it is definitely not a happy fluffy fic. i've been consuming a lot of 40s-60s media atm so the language in this is heavy with it xx. 𝐰.𝐜. 1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. canon typical derogartory language from both parties, enemies-to-lovers arc ig, toxic!dallas, very toxic situationship, implied smut..

⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆

Ideally, there were meant to be no feelings involved in whatever this was. You were simply using one another for relief, to seek lust in places neither of you could be bothered to search elsewhere for. 'Friends with benefits' was a term you used very lightly when referring to your citation with Dallas; you could barely tolerate one another on the best of days. To him, you were a spoilt girl who hadn’t seen the true world, who had been pampered and bowed to whenever it suited you. To you, he was a brute, someone with no true feeling aside from resentment and a cynical outlook on the world. 

But when you both fell into bed together, all of that was put to one side for at least an hour. 

The room is quiet when you stir, not silent—never silent—but enough that it feels blissful until you come fully to, your eyes searching the dim confines of the space. The walls are empty and pallid, so different to what you’re used to, and the sheets tangled around your limbs are scratchy and thin. The pillow is lumpy, the air too hot, and the steady thump of some warbling country song plays beneath the floorboards, finally dragging you from sleep.

Dallas is already awake beside you, propped up against the headboard with a cigarette between his teeth and a magazine open in his lap. You don’t need to glance at the glossy spread to know it’s crude, and you rise with all the dignified gaiety of a princess, stretching once and turning your nose up at him.

“You’re disgusting." You remark, sauntering over to the pile of clothes on the floor, picking through them and holding up your dress with a frown. The silk has been marred with wrinkles, and one glance in the mirror tells you everything you need to know. 

“Yeah?” Dallas grunts, hardly looking up from the pages. He blows a ring of smoke towards you, and you wave it away, huffing sharply.

“Yes. Who do you think you are? Smoking around me and reading this—” You pluck the magazine from his lap, pinching it between your forefinger and thumb, waving it around exasperatedly. “This filth!” 

Dallas slumps back further, watching you with a half-amused gleam in his eyes; he’s a mess, his hair sticking up in every which direction, tousled by your fingers the previous night, the pale skin of his collarbone peppered with stark bites and bruises. “You sound like my mother.” 

“Poor woman!” You snap, turning sharply to pull your dress on, smoothing it as best you can and heading to the dresser in the corner. It balances precariously, and you pick up the hairbrush that lies there: not yours, not his. Some other poor girls who had the misfortune of waking in his bed and leaving in a rush. 

“You always do this.” His voice is a languid drawl as he stretches like a cat, joints popping. He slinks from the bed, grabbing his jeans and tugging them on, not bothering with the belt before crossing towards you, standing just close enough that you can feel his presence. “Is it normal for women to be salty after sex?” 

You gasp incredulously at that, whirling on him and launching the brush at him, watching as it thuds squarely against his chest and falls with a clatter to the ground. “You’re such a pig! You really should watch the way you talk to girls! Why, you’re lucky I’m here at all!” 

Dallas scoffs, bending down to grab the brush, twirling it once in his hands before tossng it back to you lightly. “Cool it, toots. Ain’t nobody askin’ you to sleep here.” 

Your brows raise. “That’s not what you said over the phone last night.” You fall back into the chair by the window, the back of your hand pressed to your temple, feigning a swooning damsel. “Oh, darlin’.... Please. I need you, baby. C’mon, sweetheart. Oh— Oh…” 

He watches you with clenched teeth, the filter of the cigarette now crushed down to nothing, and he yanks it from his mouth and tosses it into the ashtray with such aggression it makes you smirk. 

“You’ve got a lotta mouth for someone who gets what they want all the damn time.”

“And you have a lot to say for someone with no respect.” You straighten up, fixing your hair one final time before grabbing your purse and shoes. 

“Where’re ya goin’?” He calls, his grin almost predatory as he trails after you to the door. 

“Home!” You snap, wrenching it open and wincing when the hinges cry out in pain. “It’s a lot better than this dump.” 

Dallas grabs your wrist suddenly, not enough to hurt you—never enough to hurt—but certainly enough to startle you, evoking a dramatic, wounded gasp. “I’d really watch it, sweetheart.” 

“Or what?” You seethe, levelling his gaze, lips pursed. 

Dallas scoffs, shoving you out of the doorway just enough to send you stumbling over your heels. “Get the hell outta here!” 

“With pleasure!” You scream, tossing your bag onto your shoulder and turning away sharply. “I never want to see you again, Dallas Winston! I was a fool to believe there was a better man deep down and I was a fool to ever bail you out and then sleep with you after the matter!” 

“Goodbye, doll!” He interrupts, levelling you with a half-amused stare, belittling and derogatory. You would damn him widdiful if you could and would slap him hard enough to leave a mark for days; however, you’ve made a big enough scene and wasted enough energy on him, and so you turn sharply on your heel and storm down the stairs with such a display that the people in the man stare at you as you pass, entirely aghast that someone—especially someone with such class—would be hanging around here at all and that they would speak to a patron in such a manner. 

Dallas doesn't stop you, watching you from the window as you get into your Corvette and speed away, hair whipping in the early rays of the morning, disappearing like an apparition. 

And despite both of you claiming finality on your “relationship”, you both know you’ll drift back together once everything dies down, because whatever this is, it is a routine habit so hard to break that you both keep falling back into it.

And because, deep down, you know there’s more behind the facades you both put up, and you’re both determined to discover it first. 

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐞_𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔.

||۶ৎ dallas masterlist

[jennzfuckingthots]

CAN I REQUEST A FLIPPIN YANDERE VERSION OF YOUR OCS???

- 🫶

Of course.

Lilitu Apollyon - Aggressive

TW: Fighting, Manipulation, mentions of being K.Oed (loser), kidnapping, mentions of death

Yandere!Lilitu would first meet you for 2 reasons, either you caught her fighting or she was fighting you.

Yandere!Lilitu is mesmerized by your personality, you don't take shit. She likes that. (directed at Hime)

Yandere!Lilitu asks you to hang out once in a while, but that turns into weekly hangouts, daily hangouts. I mean, why wouldn't you wanna hang out with her?

She's so cool.

Yandere!Lilitu starts by fighting off bullies, which turns into people who bother you, transforming into anyone who even dares talk to you in a rude manner.

They call you names? Dead.

They talk bad about you? Dead.

They breathe on you weird? Nose ripped off and then Dead.

Yandere!Lilitu would slowly tear you away from society, claiming, "everyone is so bad to you, stay with me, I'm all you need..."

"They don't deserve you"

"You don't need them"

"I'm the only one who cares about you"

Yandere!Lilitu would knock you out if you weren't willing to stay with her and her only.

Yandere!Lilitu would keep you in Diavolo's secret labyrinth, locking you away until you understood nobody cared like she did.

Yandere!Lilitu would hold you close to her, shushing your cries when you finally got the memo...

Nobody cared like she did.

Abbie Lepidomery - Desperate

TW: Smoking, illegal tracking, panty-plant/framing, manipulation, boobies mentioned, shotgun kissing, drugging(?)

Yandere!Abbie would meet you in the enchanted forest, it was out for a smoke.

Yandere!Abbie invites you to smoke with her, if you refuse, that's okay, if you accept, even better.

Yandere!Abbie likes you, you're chill around it, and you accept her. Fuck the blue skin, you like her, don't you?

Yandere!Abbie gives you a tour of Heartslaybul, making sure to stay away from dorm members. They don't need to know who you are!

Yandere!Abbie who let's you in its room, where you chat about your hobbies and other things like favorite foods, colors, smells...

Yandere!Abbie walks you back to your dorm, making sure you're safe and sound before letting one of her mini caterpillars go into your bag. Don't worry, it only works like a tracking device!

It's not that serious!

Yandere!Abbie who knows when she gets goosebumps, you're near. All thanks to her little friend~

Yandere!Abbie who tells you in private that everyone is plotting against you. She isn't setting them up by sneaking your undergarments into their possession!

Never!

Yandere!Abbie who "confronts" the people for you! She's kind-hearted isn't she? I know.

Yandere!Abbie who cries when you catch onto it's scheme, sobbing into your chest when you tell her off.

"I-i'm sorry! I just wanted your attention... sometimes it feels like you don't love me like you used to!" She clings to you as she sobs, hugging you closer and crying harder. (Bonus points if you have tits)

Yandere!Abbie who purrs as you gently pat her head, ceasing her cries. She looks up at you with her big eyes, the void like black sucking you in.

Yandere!Abbie who pulls from her blunt, rushing in to give you a shotgun kiss. Blowing the smoke into your mouth, her wings sprout from behind her.

"Sweet dreams, darling~"

Yandere!Abbie who doesn't regret using her unique magic one bit, kissing you was unnecessary, yes, but she did it anyway.

Now, you were hers forever...~

Ozias Apollyon - Seducer

TW: Shooting mentioned, kidnapping, chloroform, illegal cameras, stockholm syndrome, NSFW, missionary, fluffy-ish ending

Yandere!Ozias meets you at a shooting range. He sees you shooting beside him and your aim is pretty nice.

Yandere!Ozias wastes no time, he knew you were the one anyway. He may or may not have cameras in your house already.

He wasn't watching you.

Yandere!Ozias whose best friend is chloroform! When you leave the shooting range after about 2 hours he goes in for it.

"Hush, it's okay, love. You're gonna be just fine~"

Yandere!Ozias who makes you comfortable in his home. Letting you roam around freely, even letting you walk outside!

Yandere!Ozias who knows you'll try running away, but can't because he always has someone watching, high level security everywhere.

Yandere!Ozias who takes care of you and respects your boundaries. It only makes you fall harder for him while he treats you like royalty.

Yandere!Ozias who proclaims his love to you whenever he can...

"I love you, darling"

"My love, you don't know how much you mean to me, do you?"

"I'd let the world burn for you~"

Yandere!Ozias has to refrain from breaking you when you admit you want him to be your first time.

Yandere!Ozias who almost cums right there when he first pushes into you, rocking his hips slowly as he watches your eyes roll back.

Yandere!Ozias who intertwines his fingers with yours as he fucks makes love to you slow and gentle. He doesn't wanna ruin you just yet, he wants to take his time.

Yandere!Ozias who kisses you softly as he rearranges your guts in the most soothing way possible, you wrap your legs around his waist as you inch toward an orgasm.

Yandere!Ozias who lifts your body toward him as you cum together, this is his most intimate moment with you.

Yandere!Ozias who has to stop himself from crying when you finally say you love him. He cradles you like you'll break if he lets go.

Yandere!Ozias who knows he's got you wrapped around his finger, he's definitely not afraid of losing you...

Not at all.

TAGLIST!

@rado-brisingr @whitneysslut @leviathansbiggestkinnie @its-atsui-bitch @yveme

[op1umlust]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥-𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲!𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Petnames (My love, Darling)

 • Always patient with you whenever you throw petty tantrums about a purse you wanted but it was sold out before you got your hand on it. 

 

• He just sighs whenever you max out his black card, money isn't a problem with him he uses money to stop your temper tantrums. 

 

• He is known for his calmness and on how he keeps everything in pristine order, however many people wondered how did the two of you wind up such strange combo. 

 

• A paradox most people see him as a person who puts effort on his work but his earnest work is put to a halt when you barge into his office with your cheeks stained with tears he immediately dropped what was he doing and stood up to hug you and caress your hair calming you down. "Shh.. what's wrong Darling?" He said in a soft voice.

 

• Very gentle with you despite how fussy you are with him. "Can we go now? I'm bored." You flatly stated in front of his co workers. "Darling it's a very important meeting." He plead while holding your hand looking at you with pure adoration his co workers was baffled at his reponse you stood up and left him all alone in the office. 

 

• He followed behind you. "Allow me to guide you, Darling" opening the office door for you.

 

• Dealing with you requires nerve of steels especially with that personality of yours but that doesnt bother him, he knows that you rely to him deeply. 

 

• His calmness knows no bounds, so when you suggested to break up with him he brushed it off He'd just smile like he always does. "Such silly idea my love I know you wouldn't do that" If you meant any of it before, he made sure that you won't now.

 

[kirozai]

Housewife Thoma? He deserves a ring on that finger is all I'm saying. Plenty of bitches in Inazuma are getting a cold stare for the way they treat him

Omg he's those game ads incarnate

Level 1 outlander (gets kicked or something)

(gets helped up by reader)

Level 99 consort (struts down the street on the arm of God)

(someone cries bc someone always cries in these)

housewife thoma housewife thoma housewife thoma

_______________________________________________

thomaaa~~

SFW, genshin impact, cult au, yandere themes, self awareness, sagau

thoma our beloved housewife.

we both know that thoma likes dogs and if you hate dogs he will find some way of having you like them.

he’ll make you breakfast in bed when zhongli isnt there to care for you and help you get ready for the day always there to crack some jokes that may or may not be funny.

if you like his headband then you can try it on! you like amazing in it after all!

he cleans dishes while you lay on the couch and basically cleans the entire teapot.

what a lovely acolyte he is. if he makes it up to your favorites then dont think you spend a second without him.

if you dive him a ring he will where it until he’s dead. you want him to be your little housewife? of course!!!!

he could care less for what comes from inazuma since if it really bothers it he would tell you and then you’d tell baal.

i think he likes talking to you while walking in the nature after all, he is a monstadt boy

_______________________________________________

sorry for not being that active! coming soooon

kirozai out!

[sothisblessmysoul]

[ TW: Manipulation. Toxicity. Yandere ]

༓ʚ His Type ɞ༓

Summary: You were always his sweetheart, lover, darling, and nothing was going to change that. More importantly, what kind of yandere are you dealing with?

༓Sylvain Jose Gautier  [ Manipulative Type ] “You’re the only one who understands me.“  It isn’t really his fault. A lie that was repeated in his head throughout the day. In fact, you are to blame. Another lie repeated in his head. You are just so intriguing, charming, and overall likable. Falling in love with you hurt so badly. As if this love was a second-degree burn, hurt at first but slowly became a numb pain. Sylvain doesn’t know how to make you love him as deeply, incredibly, and intensely that he does for you. 

Till the redhead was suddenly stuck with an answer. If he couldn’t make you love him then Sylvain was going to make you unable to be without him. At the beginning of the relationship, he made one minor comment about a flaw or insecurity of yours. But quickly followed up with a compliment. Following this pattern, it didn’t take too long for Sylvain to get what he desired. 

“I’ll die without you.”

༓Ignatz Victor  [ Obsessive Type ] “You’re so beautiful. Like art.” The first memory of meeting you was kept as a picture in his head. It had been raining and you got caught in it. He remembers how your body looked when shivering, the water clinging to your eyelashes, clothes clinging to your figure. The expression you made when making eye contact with him while the rain was deafening. It was so beautiful. 

Ever since that encounter, thoughts of you replayed like a broken record. It was mad, and Ignatz couldn’t go on with this. None of his art could look even close to you. He didn’t know what to do. However, after one particular battle where you had gotten hurt. The archer freaked out, afraid that he was going to lose you - his art, his muse. How could he keep you safe and away from danger? As his eyes shifted to a piece of paper with your face on it. It suddenly hit him. The best way to keep art safe is to lock it up.

“My private art show that no one else gets to see.”

༓Jeritza  [ Possessive Type ] “You are my heart.”  Jeritza was no saint nor did he ever try to become one. Perhaps that was for the better because sometimes force was needed to keep you safe. That seemed to be the case right now as his eyes stayed glued on two figures. The one figure was you - a beautiful sight to see. The second figure was some useless individual who seemed to believe that they could capture your attention. 

A scoff escaped his lips while standing up, watching the both of you separate and go in different directions. It’s good you rejected them because why bother with them if you have him? Even if both of you aren’t together. He thought, silently following the stranger who you’ve been talking to. Two days later, someone reported a missing person. It didn’t matter if you were together or not. You are his. Maybe someday you’ll accept it too.

“And if anyone looks at you. I’ll kill them.”

༓Dedue Molinaro [ Overprotective Type] “I’ll protect you.”  Before you came into his life and change his world. The only importance in his life was to protect His Highness but now part of it was to put smiles on your face. Dedue remembers meeting you and His Highness suggesting that Dedue would be the one to tutor you. He would rather not. But did what the prince wanted nonetheless. As days became weeks and weeks became months. The two grew close and became good friends, and It’s not known exactly when Dedue started becoming protective of you. However, it’s also unknown when your importance was placed above Dimitri, Dedue’s closest friend. 

As time went on, though, something unspeakable happened. One minute, you’re training with Dimitri who had knocked you over. The next minute, Dedue was standing in front of you while Dimitri lay lifeless on the ground. Dedue was unfazed by it while you felt sick.

“Shh, don’t look at the blood. Dimitri was dangerous. I did this for you.”

༓Ashe Ubert [ Clingy Type ] “You are my everything.”  After his parents died he was left to take care of his siblings. Ashe couldn’t have personal items of his own. And even after he was taken in, Ashe didn’t have many personal items. It was selfish of him to want things because of his past actions as a thief. That’s what he often said. You told Ashe that it isn’t selfish or any negative characteristic to want simple things. 

Unknowingly, you were encouraging a darker side of him to come out. Ashe spent more time with you and whenever you left his side, anxiety would start to build up for him. The archer worried that without him next to you, some type of distress would happen and you would become helpless. Which wasn’t completely true. But it got to the point of Ashe being by your side so much that you often asked why he didn't go elsewhere. He always came up with a good reason to stay by your side. It seemed like no matter where you went, so did the ash-haired man.

“If you try to leave me, I’ll make sure you’ll never move again.”

[msfantasy-taboo]

First Time for Everything

Yandere x Captive!Darling

Summary: Darling that instigates intimacy first for the first time

Taboo: Captive + Dub Con

“I’m home.” You jolt at the sudden sound of his voice announcing his arrival. His voice echoing through the dark halls your shared home until it reached past the frame to your bedroom.

You sit up from the bed, where the crisp sheets enveloped your sleepy form just moments prior. Your mind not quite settling back into reality just yet as the disorientation of waking up in a dark home hits you. The golden afternoon sun now long gone.

Your mind was still recovering from blissful dream you were having. A startlingly different reality to the one you’re living now.

In your dream, the man that has held you captive from the world was a kind, gentle, loving husband. Normal in every way, in every standard there is. Someone you chose to be with. He won your heart the way most couples do, with terrible flirting, endless dates and copious amounts of affection.

The dream version of him has your heart panging painfully against your chest. He had the face of your captor, but, in your dream, he was so loveable.

Your mind continues swimming in an array of confusion.

“Darling?” He calls out. You don’t miss the panicked shake of his voice when you do not answer. Raising a knuckle to your eye as you rub the sleep away. Mind still turned to a dream you ardently wished was your reality. “Oh there you are.” He sighs with a great deal of relief. Stepping forward towards your bed, sitting right on the edge as you drop your hand away from your eyes and towards his chest, to feel the heavy thumps of panic subsiding back to its steady rhythm. “What time did you go to sleep? The house is pitch black.” He asks.

“Mh… I dunno… it was in the afternoon.” Your voice dripping with that sleepy rumble.

His hand moves to the top of your head, a throaty chuckle escaping his throat as he pulls your head in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah? Must’ve been a good dream then.”

You nod, pulling the blanket down a bit more. “Yeah. You were in it.”

If at all possible, something resembling a dogs ears perks up at your proclamation. His eyes widening slightly, his back straightening out as he tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Oh yeah? What were you dreaming about?” He asks, but the way he was leaning in keenly gave away any sense of casualness.

“You were my husband,” you say, and he nods, “and we were happy.” He nods again, less enthusiastically.

You pause, unsure how to say the next part.

Because the dream was more like … a wet dream.

You and your captor, married in bliss, sharing an erotic moment, filled with passion and love. He rocked into you like you gently with immense care, whilst you chased your high with him beneath you. Your hands pressed upon his chest, and his hands gripping your hips. You had leant down, just mere inches from his lips when you were awoken abruptly.

You want to revisit that moment.

Feel that feeling.

You look up at his eyes, when you made a decision.

You sat up completely, hands greedily reaching out to cradle his neck and jaw as you pulled him forward, his lips crashing upon your own as you kissed him with a heat of passion you never expected to.

You want that reality.

You want it so bad. The experience the same scene in real life.

Maybe, for just a moment in time, you could live that reality. Even if it’s make believe. You’ll indulge yourself, just this once.

You break the kiss first, just long enough to move into his lap, perching yourself onto his thighs. Watching his hands absently guide to there. His eyes still closed, as if afraid to open them and see his dream vanishing right before his eyes.

“I could tell you but I’d rather just show you.” You whisper, leaning back in and capturing his lips as your grind down into his lap.

He releases an ungodly moan, laced with want and yearning and praise.

Gripping the back of your thighs, he rolls you both over, your back planted against the mattress once again as his hands blindly work to remove the fabric barricading him from your heavenly core.

As soon as he manages to shuck your panties off, your thighs split open, desperately inviting him in to explore. His fingers grazing the inner thigh until he skims your folds and shutters at his wet you already feel. His fingers moving to slide between your crease, coaxing your slick around before submerging a finger into your tight hole.

“You’re…” he whispers, peppering a trail of kisses down your jaw. “So wet…” he announces, licking a stripe up your neck before sucking on a sensitive nerve that has you whining out. “God— you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his fingers now picking up speed, pumping in and out. “So good to me— you’re a fucking goddess— so perfect, you deserve to be fucking worshipped.” you curl into him, your hips bucking up as your climax begins to reach. “I gotta have you,” he exclaims, pulling his fingers out quickly, fumbling for his belt and zipper with a rush of urgency. “Gotta be inside,” your legs snap shut at his sudden departure.

You don’t answer. Just staring up at him, wanting to maintain the pace of passion and softness before he descends into a carnal animal that bullies his cock into you like he does every other time.

He just looks down at you with utter desperation. Not a care in the world if you changed your mind. You’ve sparked hunger in a starving man and he’ll do whatever it takes to get a taste of the forbidden fruit.

Instead you do something far more erotic.

You spread your knees as wide as you could manage, laying yourself completely exposed. A quiet invitation.

“I fucking love you.” He growls, crawling back on top of you, jerking slowly to alleviate the throbbing of his painful erection.

“Slow.” You whisper your condition, your hand flying down to grasp him and line him up. You’re asking a lot from him. To slowly sink into your core at a snails pace and you’re being so wet and inviting.

But regardless, he heeds your commands. Sinking one painful inch after another and right when there’s nothing left to bury in you. You let out the softest, breathiest sigh of relief which does nothing but sends shockwaves of want down his spine, his brain screaming for him to pummel you into the bed. But the satisfied look of fullness on your face keeps him anchored to this moment.

Your hands release its grip on the sheets, which you had not even noticed you were doing. Hands falling back into its place on the cusp of his jaw. “Just like that.” You praise, eyes rolling shut as your body rolls a grinding wave. “Rock into me slowly yeah?”

He whimpers, feeling torn between his need to fuck you senseless and his need to praise your body.

Somehow he manages to pull back ever so slightly before sinking back in. The slow and intentional movements sending utter shockwave through your core causing you to release a long quiet moan.

And he swears he could cum to your sounds alone.

To hear his darling make such sinful sounds from the softest of touches.

But he cannot finish so early.

Who knows if you’ll ever be so pliant again.

He needs to indulge in this fantasy for as long as humanly possible.

So he does just that. Rocking slowly into your soppy core as you moan and meet his movements back with a long drawn out grind.

“Kiss me?” You ask, looking at him through your lashes and he swears his heart gave out right then and there.

He leans down, not daring to make you wait another second as he kisses with a soft firmness until your kisses grow more feverish, your moans muffled between your connected mouths until your head drops away.

Your body craning away from his, your back arching as your grind thrusts meeting his own grows more erratic.

“Yeah—yeah—just like that!” You praise, eyes screwing shut as waves of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your pussy gripping down harshly until your core flutters in satisfaction of your release.

You barely notice the ungodly groan echoing through your ear as his shuttering body drops ontop of you like dead weight. The oddly comforting feeling of his weight pressing on top of you.

He doesn’t speak.

Too fucked out to comprehend life, let alone words.

And you couldn’t be more satisfied.

Allowing yourself to live this delusion a little bit longer before the reality sets back in.