#yandere cod

[darkbirdie]

⋆.꒰𝑇he 𝑃erfect ℬoyfriend꒱

yandere boyfriend x fem reader!

SUMMARY: You have the perfect boyfriend, he's everything you have ever wanted and wished for, he's the man of your dreams. You're also the woman of his dreams, he always makes sure to let you know that and how much he loves you, just that his dreams are different from yours.

CONTENT WARNING: yandere boyfriend : possesive & obsessive behaviour : unreliable narrator : thoughts of non con : controlling behaviour : emotional manipulation : dark thoughts and themes : dead dove; do not eat

You felt his thumb brush past the corner of your mouth, the pad of his thumb wiping away the little crumbs of the avocado toast you were eating, made by him.

You were talking about something and you stopped mid sentence, to give him a huge beaming, radiating smile, your mouth still fully stuffed with the delicious breakfast he had made for you after you returned from the gym.

“So, yeah that's why she won't be coming anymore” you continued swallowing. “Like, that's so scary. Her ex is always waiting for her near the gym, it's for her own good if she changes it, but honestly I am gonna miss her. We had gotten really close the past few days.”

You continued to talk more about that situation as he listened to you, nodding at the things you said. You took the last bite of the toast thanking him for it, it was really delicious and exactly how you liked it.

Since you had moved in with him he always made you breakfast, even on the days he had work, not like you didn't want to do the same for him but he just completely refused, always flirting around the topic when you brought it up and saying stuff like how you can always return the favour in bed only for you to slap his arm.

He smiled, looking at you fondly, his eyes following you as you stood up picking up your plate grinning at him and turned around to put in the sink.

It had only been a couple of months since you had started going to gym. The reason you had given was that you needed to be stronger, what if some bad guys followed you or someone tried to kidnap you and stuff, these days alot of women went missing.

“Babe, I need to be physically stronger plus it's not like it's a bad thing you know?” You had said with puppy eyes, full of hope which you knew always worked on him. Your chin resting on his chest, as you looked up at him waiting for him to say yes, just because you knew he would, he never said no to you.

He had just looked down at you, with a slight smile on his face, his fingers brushing through your hair, “Ofcourse you can baby, you do know that you don't need to ask me right?” He had said with a soft and gentle voice as his fingers combed through your hair, your heart had given a flutter because the way he had looked at you, his eyes full of love. He made you feel so safe and comfortable, so loved and cherished.

Wasn't he just so perfect, a dream boyfriend. He was everything you had ever dreamt for and wanted in a man. You had gotten on your tip toes to give him a quick peck on his lips which had only made him chuckle, fully embracing you, his large arms surrounding you, as he had said something like how he was not going to let you go off the hook that easily, peppering your face with kisses and smooches as you giggled.

He knew you would bring this topic some day or the other, he knew before you had even thought about it, just because he knew you so well.

These days you would always bring up this topic about women safety, and how news was full of them now and then. So, he already knew what was cooking inside your subconscious, he was just waiting for you to finally talk to him about it.

And you were right, women did go missing, a lot of bad things happened to them and that was the reason why he always dropped or picked you up from somewhere, chaperoning you always.

And when he was not he always made sure you were sharing your live location with him.

He smiled at you again, amused at how your brain worked that any of it would help you in protecting yourself, the only thing or more to say a person who was yours could protect you was him.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” He asked as he massaged your calves as you scrolled through your phone, legs draped over his lap on the couch.

“Nah, that's enough” you murmured feeling drowsy as the ache from the morning excercise had reduced, thanks to him. “Now I feel really sleepy,” you said, putting down your phone on the side.

“Then take a nap” he said, not stopping the massage even when you stretched your arms overhead with a little groan. Following that you stretched your legs too, your calves flexing under his hands.

Slowly you got up into the sitting position and curled up to his side as he lifted up his arm so you could tuck yourself against his chest, and the moment you did, he wrapped it around you pulling your body closer to his.

You pressed your cheeks against his chest, feeling his heartbeat in your ears, his free hand giving short firm press to your aching shoulders as you felt the pain there reducing as his hands worked.

He did so many things without you asking him too, sometimes even you didn't know you needed something but he would have already done it for you. He really was the perfect boyfriend.

You nuzzled against his chest murmuring a soft ‘I love you’ as you heard him say it back, with a kiss on the top of your head.

You hugged him closer, feeling so safe and secure in his arms, that nothing bad could happen to you or even come to you because he was with you. His arms were your safe place, no matter how bad the outside world was inside of these four walls with him none of it mattered or scared you because he was with you, for always and forever.

He saw you lulling into sleep, your eye lashes fluttering, breath slow and even, your body melting into his perfectly, fingers still loosely clutching to his tshirt like even in sleep you wanted him close. So trusting and perfect.

He tucked a loose strand of your hair back to your bun, his hands grazing against the soft skin of your neck.

You were so sweet and so fucking stupid, thinking that getting stronger would be of any help that if you gained a little bit of muscles you could fight back, especially against a man like him, who was twice your size, the kind of man who could pin you down without breaking a sweat if he ever chose to.

He loves you so much, he loves how you trust him, seeing no wrong in him. He wants to see your reaction when he would stop playing this part, the part of your perfect boyfriend.

There would be a day when he would get tired of playing this role eventually and would show his real side, his real face to you. Will you get scared? Will you try to fight him back or worse leave him?

The thought of you trying to fight back one day, using all your strength against him, made him smile for real this time.

It would be so adorable and completely useless.

Though he would protect you, he's your boyfriend afterall, your perfect boyfriend.

He would protect you from the outside world which was full of monsters, monsters like him, the one you lived with inside the safety of your home.

He would protect you from everyone else, just not from himself.

© darkbirdie 2026

꒰Please do not copy, plagiarize, translate or repost my work꒱

[unadulteratedvoidtragedy]

How do we feel about secret omega reader and tf 141 alpha pack?

cw: yandere tf 141, reader goes into heat, non-con towards the end

Masterlist

Sometimes you're not entirely sure how you managed to get away with it, but a very weak scent and a small bribe to an old friend that happened to be a military doctor made possible the change in your medical records. You didn't join out of some patriotic feeling, but because at the time that seemed the fastest way for you to get out of that home. And you've done a great job to keep up appearances until now, do your job, don't linger with anyone and take the supressants religiously.

All was well until Laswell decided your transfer to the tf 141, a task force made entirely out of alphas known for being reliant on each other and absolutely refusing to work alongside omegas. You suppose it makes sense given Ghost's history and the few attempts of other omegas to join them forcefully by trying to trigger a rut in the hopes of getting marked. Their disdain was understandable, but you weren't exactly in a position to say "No". Sure, the risks were greater, but the increased payment would help you finally retire, having your own place away from your family and maybe taking a desk job. It wasn't a permanent transfer anyway, you just had to make it a year alongside the most observant and heavily trained alphas around and then go on your merry way.

The first meeting was a bit awkward, even Johnny's smile couldn't hide the tension underneath. They didn't want you there, but were willing to put up with you for the time being. Lucky for them, you don't plan to stick around longer than that. The five of you fall into some kind of routine, getting acquianted with each other's habits. If they notice you going out of your way not to spend more time than absolutely necessary around them, they don't comment on it. And things work out like that just fine until one mission you and Ghost get separated from the rest and it's up to you to carry the barely conscious bleeding alpha out of the collpasing building. It's fine, you were trained for situations like this, but when you are out and safe and about to lay him down, Ghost takes you by surprise when his head falls on your shoulder and starts nuzzling against your barely concealed scent gland under the ripped collar.

Your body freezes as you feel him take a long inhale, eyes wide and his arm clinging to you as he finally loses consciouness from the blood loss just as the others are coming towards you. Thankfully the situation is an urgent one given Ghost's condition and the rescued hostages so they shouldn't pay too much attention to the distressed smell on you. Unbeknowst to you captain Price and Gaz share a look between them as if trying to confirm something. The first moment there isn't a pair of eyes pointed in your direction, you down almost half the bottle of supressants in one go. That was a close call, if Ghost says something after he wakes up you'll try to play it off as him hallucinating from the blood loss.

Your fears turn out to have been for nothing, Ghost wakes up and you don't get called to Price's office and court martialed, but things change a little after that. At first it's hard to pinpoint what's happening, Johnny and Kyle were always the friendliest out of the group, but now it increased tenfold: from making small talk to insisting you work out and then eat together in the mess hall as bonding activities to them sharing their food with you. You have to physically restrain Soap from piling anymore food on your already overflowing plate and when an accident with the laundry destroys your clothes Gaz is more than happy to lend you some of his shirts. He insists you don't have to worry about washing before returning them, something about him needing to use a particular detergent to avoid allergic reactions.

Even Price joins in, a hand on your shoulder, a pat on the back, as he absolutely insists you come with them to the pub. You have to spend time with the pack, after all. You want to argue that your place is temporary, but the look he throws your way makes the refusal freeze on the tip of your tongue. And Ghost, he seems to linger just outside your peripheral vision, a silent presence just out of reach. Maybe that's his weird way of showing his gratitude for saving his life, but still the predatory undertone in his smell is unmistakable. It takes a lot of self-control on your part to still your body from reacting. You fear that even the smallest shudder might give you away, it's almost like a waiting game between the two of you to see who's gonna drop the act first.

You try wearing perfume on the days before your heat when fearing that your scent will come out despite the supressants, but the wrinkling of Ghost's nose as he looks at you like you've insulted his entire bloodline and a lecture from Price about military regulations makes you stop. It's fine, when your heat finally comes you get a hotel room off base and a few days later play it as being sick and not wanting to be contagioous to Johnny's torrent of questions of where were you and why didn't you answer your phone. Your next heat was gonna be right after the contract with the 141 would be over so you were in the clear.

Except for the fact that they are now more clingier than ever. Johnny took to the habit of scenting you, nails digging into your palms in the effort of not squirming, betas aren't affected by an alpha's smell after all. Price lightly scolded him, telling Soap to stop doing that in the mess hall, which resulted in him just inviting himself into your room and doing it there. No matter how many times or how many locks you would put on the door, someone (you have the inkling feeling is Ghost breaking in) is already there. Whether is Soap sketching or Gaz reading, even Ghost got to cleaning his guns there. You tried complaining to Price about it, but he said that it was nice that the guys were finally opening up and he started mandatory movie nights which meant spending 2 hours squished between two of the guys (usually Soap and Ghost) trying very hard to not be aware of the heat of their bodies.

The week before your contract with the 141 is up somehow your heat comes early completely unexpected, no pre-heat symptoms or anything, just this awful feverish feeling that creeps on you during morning drills. You run past your teamates towards your room, knees buckling by the time you get to your closet searching frantically for the bottle of supressants. Throwing things haphazardly just as the first wave hits you, missing the sound of the door opening and several pairs of boots coming in. Only the clattering sound of the bottle of pills being shaken makes you sharply turn around. There is Ghost playing with the bottle in his hands almost tauntingly, you throw yourself towards him trying to take it back, but he simply lifts it higher. You are about to curse him out until a hand gently grabs your chin turning you towards them:

"Poor little omega, looking so helpless and desperate. Always so eager to run away from what's good for you."

The initial worry from Price's voice gets replaced by an irritated note on the last part like he's scolding a stubborn child. You want to argue with him, to tell them to leave, but as if sensing your intentions his scent takes a sharper tone. Normally you would be able to resist, pretend the dissatisfied note that burns your nostrils doesn't affect you at all, but without the supressants you find your instincts starting to take over. Being in a small space surrounded by pheromones of four alphas makes your head start spinning and is only thanks to Kyle that you don't end up faceplanting on the floor as the strenght leaves your body. He takes you in his arms, carrying you out, you think that maybe he might have taken pity on you until he brings to Price private quarters. Right in the middle of the room you recognize a nest made out of scented blankets and their clothes. Their combined smells sends another shiver down your spine as he puts you down inside it.

You should run, bite and scratch your way out of here, if only your body would listen to you. Ghost's figure blocks the only exit as he locks the door multiple times.

"I think Ghost might have put too big of a dose of that pheromone enhancement. We told him to slow feed it to you, but the big guy got impatient. Look at you, can't even stand on your legs."

Johnny's words are maybe meant to be comforting, but you don't miss the satisfied smirk on his face, like the state you are in right now is just a happy accident. Ghost remains silent, his gaze locked on your trembling form as if he could see under the layers of clothing.

"You know? We were a little hurt that you kept this little secret from us for so long." says Gaz.

"That's right, there should be no secrets within our pack, but it's fine, we are gonna make sure you properly learn that."

Captain Price's final words seem to serve as some kind of signal because as soon as he finishes speaking there are four bodies closing in around the nest blocking any way you would try running through.

Part 2

[maliciouscottonball]

I've been thinking a lot about König and apathetic! reader who doesn't care what he does as long as you're fed good food.

He tries to hide it at first. He really does. He does his best to stay out of sight when he's following you home every day and he tries not to let you know that it's him that leaves food on your doorstep every day. He worries about you taking proper care of yourself so once he realizes that you like his cooking, he can't resist leaving you home cooked meals.

One afternoon, his oven breaks and he figures that he should be able to just use yours while he waits for his new one to be delivered. He loses track of time as he balances baking a Sachertorte and cooking up a pot of Käsespätzle. He's so focused on getting all of the details right that he doesn't hear you get home from work or you walking to the kitchen to see what the commotion is about.

"That smells good. I was gonna watch River Monsters if you wanna join when you're done." You say as you walk to your living room.

König nearly jumps out of his skin and then just stares at you as you sit down on your couch and turn on your TV. He quickly plates both your and his food and hurries to the living room with them.

"So... You don't care that I'm in your house...?" He asks softly as he hands you your plate.

"If someone wants to break in and do chores for me, I really couldn't care less. You can have a key if you're gonna cook for me all the time." You respond with a shrug as you take a bite.

König blinked. You were even more perfect than he thought.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x neighbour!reader: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! (Or in your case, the way to four men’s heart is through their stomach))

It started with cookies.

You’d been in the middle of baking a double batch- oatmeal chocolate chip, your personal favorite- and realized halfway through scooping them onto the tray that you’d made far too many for one person. It wasn’t unusual. Baking was how you coped with stress, and ever since you’d moved into this apartment building, stress had been in no short supply.

The guy in 3A had blared music all night. Your hot water barely lasted five minutes. And your smoke detector had developed a habit of chirping at odd hours.

But there was one bright spot- your neighbors in 3C.

You’d seen them coming and going. Tall, broad, and always carrying duffel bags that looked far too heavy to be legal. They kept odd hours, too, but never caused trouble. One of them- Johnny, you’d learned later- had even held the door open for you when your arms were full of groceries.

Which was why you’d stood outside their door that evening, balancing a plate of cookies and feeling like an idiot as you knocked.

Not-Johnny had answered first, blinking down at you in surprise, though his smile was warm and he was beautiful. You couldn’t blame him; you had barely spoken to them more than a few short words.

“Uh… hi?”

“Hi.” You forced a smile. “I’m your neighbor from 3B. I, uh… made too many cookies?”

His eyes dropped to the plate immediately, and you swore you saw something primal flicker behind them. Still, you worried.

“I mean, if you don’t want-”

“No! No, we want. Come in- Johnny! Get over here!”

And that was how it started.

The second time had been lasagna.

You’d just finished assembling it when you realized- again- that you’d made too much. So, after psyching yourself up for ten minutes, you’d knocked on their door for the second time in as many weeks.

Price, who had introduced himself along wuth Simon the day you dropped off the cookies, had answered that time, his expression guarded until he saw the foil-covered pan in your hands.

“You’re joking,” he’d said, but when you started to retreat, he’d stopped you with a firm, but gentle hand on your back. He had such a nice, big hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, lovie. Get in here.”

That night, you’d sat at their table, sharing stories and laughter while they cleaned the dish down to the last crumb.

After that, it became routine.

You started “testing recipes,” and they became your eager guinea pigs.

And they never seemed to mind.

And now…

The smell hit first- roasted garlic, browned butter, and something rich simmering low and slow. It snuck out from the slightly cracked kitchen window and spilled into the shared hallway of the apartment building. For men used to MREs and takeout, it was practically siren song.

Gaz was the first to notice, lingering just outside the door labeled 3B- your door- with an almost predatory focus. He wasn’t proud of it, but his stomach growled so loud that Soap- rounding the corner with a gym bag slung over his shoulder- laughed outright.

“You stalking the neighbor again?”

“Shut up. You smell that?”

Soap inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut for a beat before snapping open.

“Jesus wept- what is that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m this close to knocking.” Kyle held up his fingers, barely an inch apart.

“She already fed us last week, mate. Dinna push it.”

“But what if she’s testing another recipe?”

Gaz wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of showing up at their door with dishes too good to refuse.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

After the cookies and the lasagna, it wasn’t long before other dishes followed: casseroles, soups, pies, and even homemade bread. And the worst part? You bow always prefaced it by saying you needed an opinion- like they were doing you the favor.

It wasn’t until Price called you a “bloody saint” over a pan of enchiladas that Ghost finally put it together.

“You’re using us as taste testers.” He’d said flatly.

You’d grinned- too cute and too smug for your own good. “Is that a problem?”

Not a single one of them had said no, just as stated before.

Which led them here, hovering outside your door and pretending they weren’t waiting for another offering.

“… Fine.” Soap muttered, raising his hand to knock.

But the door swung open before he could, and there you were- apron on, hair pulled back, and flour dusted across your cheek.

“Hi!” You chirped, eyes bright. “Perfect timing!”

Gaz’s grin was pure relief. “Tell me you need opinions. Please, love.”

You laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “I always need opinions. Come in!”

Inside, the kitchen was chaos. Cutting boards and mixing bowls were scattered across the counters. A Dutch oven bubbled on the stove, releasing clouds of savory steam. Plates of food- half-assembled sandwiches, stuffed peppers, and what looked like chocolate tarts- sat waiting.

“I… might’ve gone overboard.” You admitted, and if you hadn’t spent all day in the kitchen, your cheeks would’ve gone warmer.

Soap whistled low, eyes raking over every dish. “Not complainin’.”

Price arrived just then, texted by Kyle, trailed closely by Simon, who took one look at the spread and froze. His eyes swept from the roasted chicken resting under a blanket of fresh herbs to the still-warm biscuits stacked beside a bowl of honey butter.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked, smile amused, but you just waved him off.

“Practicing.”

Gaz was already halfway to the table, trying to decide what to start with, but Simon lingered, watching you carefully. He had his balaclava on, though you haven’t yet dared to ask why he wears it.

“Practicing for what, exactly?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your apron. “There’s this… thing next week. A community bake-off. And I thought it might be fun to enter.”

Soap arched a brow. “You’re entering this in a bake-off?”

“Well, not all of it. I’m still deciding which dishes to use.”

“You’re winning.” Kyle said immediately, filling his plate.

“Definitely.” Johnny added, already reaching for a sandwich.

Simon, still lingering, crossed his arms and stared down at you. His height will never, ever not make your breath hitch. “You’re testing all of this on us?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, pouting just a little. “You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”

His gaze darkened- not in anger, but something softer, heavier. It made your stomach flip.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t mind.”

You swallowed and turned quickly to the oven to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The next hour passed in a blur of taste testing, arguments over which dish was best, and repeated assurances that you were going to “blow the competition out of the water.” But beneath the laughter and teasing, you failed to catch the way they looked at you- how Price lingered by the stove just to steal extra bites, or how Johnny kept offering to help, hovering close enough that you brushed elbows more than once.

And Simon? He was the worst of all. He didn’t say much, but his eyes tracked your every move, following the way your hands worked the dough or wiped flour off the counter. He was the last to leave, hanging back as the others helped clear plates.

“You’re serious about this bake-off?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Thought it might be fun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“… What?”

He gestured at the now-empty plates. “To prove anything, I mean. You’re already…” He trailed off for a few seconds, and though you were left blinking at him, you didn’t rush him. “Good enough.” he murmured at last.

The compliment hit harder than you expected, and for once, you didn’t have a clever response.

“Thank you, Simon. That… means a lot to me.” you said softly.

And just like that, the others reappeared, breaking the moment. Johnny patted Simon’s shoulder with a knowing smirk, and Kyle slung an arm around your shoulders, while Price merely watched. Your kitchen was now spotless, cleaned by them.

“When’s the next test run?” Gaz asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, let us know. We’re free anytime.”

“Yeah,” Soap added. “Anytime.”

You laughed but this time, you didn’t miss the way Price was looking at you- thoughtful, like he’d already made up his mind about something.

The door clicked shut behind them after that, leaving your apartment quieter but no less warm. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you surveyed the spotless kitchen. They’d made quick work of the mess, trading jokes and lighthearted jabs as they wiped down counters and stacked dishes in quite the uniform style.

You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve neighbors like them, but you weren’t about to question it.

You caught yourself humming as you tucked away the last plate, the sound of their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. It was easy with them- comfortable in a way that felt rare and almost too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Because what you didn’t know- what you would probably never know, such a sweet and trusting thing- was that your apartment had been wired within days of your first visit to their door.

To them, it had started with a conversation.

“She’s alone,” Price had said after the second time you’d brought them food, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative frown. “No sign of anyone else coming or going.”

“Security’s shite.” Gaz had added, gesturing vaguely toward the shared hallway where your lock barely functioned half the time.

Soap had shrugged, easygoing as ever, but his eyes had been sharp. “Better us keep an eye on her than let some arsehole get the chance.”

And that was that.

Price had ordered the equipment, Ghost had handled the installation, and none of them had lost sleep over it. Not when it meant keeping you safe.

It wasn’t just the cameras, either.

Simon had reinforced your locks under the guise of “fixing” them after you mentioned a struggle with your key. Johnny had talked you into letting him check your windows “just to be sure they latched properly.” Gaz had set up an app on your phone to “monitor deliveries,” though it also let them track your location if needed.

And Price? He always lingered at the door just long enough to ask if you needed anything else- subtle, but enough to make sure you knew they were there.

You never questioned it. Never noticed the way they moved like a unit around you, anticipating problems before they could arise. Never caught the glances they exchanged when you mentioned a repairman or the way Simon hovered near the window any time a car idled too long outside.

You just kept feeding them, trusting them in ways that only made their resolve deepen.

Price was the worst.

He’d leaned against the counter tonight, watching you laugh at Johnny’s jokes and swat at Kyle when he tried to sneak extra bites, and the thought had hit him harder than he expected, while Simon watched on in amusement and was the only to successfully swipe a few more bites.

They could’ve had this already.

If life had gone differently- if timing had been better- you could’ve been his. Theirs. Someone to come home to instead of just someone they visited between deployments.

He hadn’t said anything, of course. None of them had.

But as they left, he’d lingered in the doorway, letting his hand rest lightly against the frame.

“Don’t let ‘em eat it all before the bake-off,” he’d teased, lips curling into a smile. “They’ll start begging if you do.”

You’d laughed, and God, it was dangerous how much he liked the sound.

“I’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

His smile softened. “Good girl.”

You didn’t notice the way Simon shot him a sharp look at that- or the way Johnny and Kyle exchanged knowing grins.

And later, when Price sat down in front of the monitors to check the feeds, he didn’t let himself feel guilty.

Because you were safe.

And as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered.

[mina-org]

Thinking about retired John with a younger wife, and he just can’t keep up or keep it up with sex, his hips hurt and he find it humiliating how fast he comes or that he just can’t finish. S/o is sweet about it, kissing his cheek and comforting him but he knows his pretty girl has need and he’s not taking care of them it eats at him, so he enlists some help.

he knows his sweetheart would never do anything with, or ask for another man. just go on, happily neglecting herself:(

He doesn’t know if he should ask Simon, he’s big and mean and he’s not sure if your pretty pussy needs that right now. of course it would be a pretty sight to see simon fucking his sweetheart, have them on all fours, trembling nearly ruined. John could already see the tears, he could ever be that mean to his girl:( he'd love to see it though

Johnny is similar, but less mean and a bit too freaky for right now, he’d love to watch the Scot wreck you, love to lap up your cunt and wanted to hold you still while you squirm but still a bit intense when the two of you hadn’t fucked in months and Johnny was always introducing him to the kinkest shit and its just too much to start with.

Kyle though? Perfect. Simon and johnny were takers but Kyle? He’d give you want you want and need, he'd bring you to tears and kiss them away, he was able to give you what you need and be gentle about it and of course more than happy to help!

the two other men are jealous to say the least, simon's known you the longest and John used him to protect you more than a few times, in fact the way simon looks at you is what sparked the idea:(

johns a proud man and loves showing you off, and it started innocent enough, it just escalated but John sure you'll love it

[wreckitwrites]

Being Laswells pampered little Puppy!Hybrid who’s been sulking about the house ever since Laswell caught Coyote Pack!141 trying to lure away play with Reader near the border of her property.

And in Readers defence, they really do want to play with her! Drag her into their cozy, warm den and take turns playing with her until she’s unable to escape move from the safety of the fuzzy, comfy nest they made just for her and their pups!

Laswells been keeping an eye out the windows, watching the coyote hybrids stalk around the woods near her backyard, careful to keep Puppy!Reader close and locked up safe, knowing full well that it will only take one slip up, one instance of forgetting to lock the door behind her or leaving a window cracked open for her silly doggy to run off and get herself into trouble

But she knows that her sweet pup isn’t really a bad girl, she’s just a lonely little puppygirl who needs some extra love and attention from other hybrids

Instead of letting those wild canines steal away her precious pet, she decides to inlist the help of a friend to help take Readers mind off of those howls echoing from the treeline

So she invites her friend Valeria and her pet Dog!Hybrid over for a puppy play date

Kangal Shepard!König who is smitten immediately, tail smacking against the doorway as it wags excitedly, barely giving reader a moment to take in the sight of the giant, fluffy hybrid before he’s on top of her, nose burried in her neck as he inhales her scent, releasing a low, content rumble as he sniffs her hair.

Laswell finally being able to relax as she lets the two dog hybrids out into the yard to play, resting easy when she see’s how König keeps Reader close by, herding her away from the forests edge and keeping a wary eye on the trees, sensing the presence of the coyotes hidden amongst the foliage, seething over the dumb mutt that’s guarding their sweet, soft mate from them

[softmoonperi]

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙?..

[bluecrimsonmoon]

Horror Protag! Reader x Yandere

I'm thinking about a capabale Reader who is VERY fed up with all the yandere nonsense that is going on around them.

Reader knows what the yanderes are and no matter how handsome, rich, charming, etc, that they may be. None of those "attributes" can compensate for the loss of freedom and loved ones to the Horror Protag! Reader.

Reader has the plot armour of a Final Girl, they will always triumph and get away in the end. Even if the antagonist hasn't been arrested or killed, and could come back. Reader will always kick their ass and/or escape.

They also have skills and abilites of a horror game protagonist. I'm talking about being insanely resourceful to the point that picking up some junk that will turn out vital for escape and somehow having so much pocket space for the amount of items they pick up. In addition to having a ridiculous amount of energy and dexterity as horror protags can almost perfom any physical task well, they also are able to walk off most of drugs and injuries with relative ease.

Horror Protag! Reader may be in a situation where it could be considered hopeless to many, but they have been in worse scrapes than this and will be damned if they let some lovesick fool get the better than them.