love island but it’s a whole ass villa that’s head over heels for you.
just imagine. you, a pretty woman, are trying to find that good romance you’ve been missing all your life. So when you meet up with the 6 other villa girls that you quickly connected with, you didn’t expect 7 fine ass men to come one at a time to greet yall.
6 fine ass women and 7 fine ass men. You felt like you were in heaven.. until shit got deep.
Imagine your surprise the next day when you had countless of chats in different places. There was never a moment to rest, and the camera crew was working overtime to capture each moment you had with these men.
You thought everyone was happy with their couple form yesterday (though you noticed it took quite a while for each men to pick their partner.. especially since you were taken first), but it seems like there was something else you had missed.
“[Name], may I pull you for a chat—”
“Oh fuck off! We just started talking.”
“You were talking to her for 2 hours, asshole! You’re not even suppose to be back here—nobody can even see you!”
You didn’t mean to cause drama on your second day in the villa. Hopefully it won’t turn into another season of baddies.
Set in 1944, Battle of the Bulge (also known as the Ardennes Offensive or Unternehmen Wacht am Rhein). This is a very dark, historical piece so please be wary before you read. This will be 1/2 since it is taking me so long. Thank you all for your patience ❤️
Edit: I am so sorry to most readers, but the reader would be white/ white passing due to the time period. Please request a black reader in my request box or my DMs for another time period post. I had not meant to be exclusive rather than inclusive with this piece. Thank you @lionesses-are-cool and @flutterdraw-ackerman for pointing this out. Please send me a request in my request box or a dm. I’ll make you both a proper time period piece.
Yandere 1940s Imagines: Oh My Little Soldier Boy
Yandere WW2 Soldiers x Nurse Reader
TW: character death (unnamed), horror, death (detailed in intro), horrors of war, tragedy, feeling of hopelessness, yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamics that should not be romanticized, depressing material, war, forbidden romance due to interracial relations of this time, mentions of racism (due to time period and Jim Crow Laws), and HISTORICALLY ACCURATE (without use of slurs)
Reader is white/ white passing in this piece
Intro:
No matter how many times you washed your white sleeves, they were permanently stained with blood. The air reeked of dust and decay despite how you had thought a hospital would be. Yet you had been shocked of the true conditions of a field hospital with low staff and round-the-clock patients who were near their deathbed. The constant torrent of smoke from artillery fire was your loyal companion outside the cries and groans of the injured men that entered the tents. Each arrived in an endless wave of death and grief.
You had come to aide the front lines after you saw all the posters for you back home, but you failed to understand what exactly the job entailed. And now you had front row seats to the horrors of war.
You did your best not to sob as your hands clasped the only remaining hand of a young man who was no older than eighteen. Most of his limbs were blown off by an artillery shell and he had already lost far too much blood before he had even arrived onto the cot in your tent. His youthful face was a mess of blood, snot, and tears as he cried himself hoarse with what remained of his strength. His hand desperately gripped yours for whatever comfort you could offer him in a tight yet weak squeeze.
“Mom! Mom… please, I want to go home!” His sobs twisted at your chest, his blue eyes wild and glazed from the adrenaline that barely kept him alive. His voice trembled in pure fear, “I don’t want to die, mom. I’m so scared… I don’t want to die.”
You pressed your forehead to his in an attempt to calm him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to promise him he’d make it because he wasn’t going to. You’ve been through this rodeo far too many times before to know how this would play out. Yet that didn’t make your job any easier. You quietly shushed him as you guided him to leave like a mockery of an angel. An angel of death that did their best to comfort the men you did not have the power to save no matter how much you wanted to.
His words of terror repeated over and over like a mantra until the sound of his voice slowly drifted into a whisper and he finally went still. You did your best not to break down at his forever still face. Then you used your palm to close his dull blue eyes into a permanent expression of sleep. You didn’t even know this young man’s name. You never knew their names since the cots were filled as soon as they were empty again. A lot of the patients you had weren’t even old enough to drink, let alone vote. But they were old enough to die.
No one spoke of how this was the most difficult part of your job. No one talked about how horrible it was to witness the death of men who were barely adults yet fought in a war for the cowardly leaders of their countries. The death toll only increased as the war went on and you felt the inescapable feeling of hopelessness choke you. Could you truly make a difference here or have you wasted your time since you decided to come to Europe rather than get married like a normal girl your age?
Yet your patients never let you stew in your sorrow. No. They’d never let their precious nurse fall into darkness alone…
Sergeant Hank Carter (Texas, Rancher)
“Ya did the best ya could, darlin.’ Don’t let it get ya down. Come here, my arms are nice and warm.” Hank’s southern drawl called out to you from his cot in the corner. His tan hands outstretched for you. “Ya can lay yerself on my chest, don’t be shy now.”
Hank was the staff sergeant of the extreme combat division. A reliable and honest man of a tall build with broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and warm, honeyed eyes. He was filled with southern charm and a voice that commanded attention, but he was always gentle with you. Especially since you had patched him up so many times over the last two years. And he was still in tact minus his constant run ins with trench foot. He was lucky you always saved his toes from falling off.
“Ya’ve had yer hands on me so many times, I swear yer my wife, darlin’. Not that I’m complainin’ one bit.” He’d always teased. “Maybe after all this, I’ll make ya my wife.”
Hank was a very traditional man who wanted a simple life with you despite your gentle rejections since he was merely just another patient in your eyes no matter how handsome he was.
Hank was rather protective of you when it came to the other patients since he saw the way they looked at you. You’d often hear him reprimanding not only his squad, but the others around him.
“Now y’all know she ain’t a piece of meat, so don’t treat her like one. I’m lookin at ya, private.”
Unlike most of your patients, Hank would willingly die for you without hesitation. He’d always rush to shield you from artillery or gun fire with his own body when the stakes were high in the field hospital. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if you didn’t survive. You were the light in his dark world… the light at the end of the tunnel. A reason to keep fighting in a war that seemed endless.
You often had his warm, strong hands on you whenever you treated his bullet wounds, his honey colored eyes filled with absolute reverence.
“After this ‘ere is over, marry me. I’ll make ya the happiest woman in the world, I swear.” Hank softly told you. “I have a ranch house in Texas that has plenty of space for ya and some kids. I’ll be so good to ya.”
Good luck trying to get him to leave you be, because he’s rather determined to live that idyllic life with you no matter how many Nazis he had to kill. No matter what unspeakable horrors he had to see just to see your face and to feel your gentle touch in him. Hank would do anything to be yours… anything.
Captain Richard Rose (California, Actor)
Richard had been a rather handsome man before he found himself in your care, but the blast from an artillery shell stole his entire life away. He’d no longer be able to be a handsome actor in Hollywood since the right side of his face was now permanently in a scowl. He was a monster. A man with a broken face. The fallen captain of his platoon that had charged into no man’s land without a plan.
Richard would often try to hide his face from you whenever you came to treat him. His blue eyes filled with shame. How could you bear to look at him? The last nurse, one of the newer ones, had fainted at the sight of him. He must be hideous now.
“Don’t look… don’t look.” He’d mutter in a tone you could only describe as utterly defeated. “I’m hideous.”
Yet you’d always reassure him and gently treat his horrific disfigurement. Your soft hands reminded him of kisses of sunshine. Richard was grateful to you. And the more time he spent with you, he fell for you. You were the only one to still treat him like a human being. The only one who didn’t flinch at his face or shy from looking him in his only remaining eye. In his mind, you were his salvation.
As Richard grew more comfortable, he’d rehearse a few lines he used to say in his best works. He was so happy you’d smile and listen to each one. It made him feel more human after he had suffered such a horrible loss of his livelihood. Yet you proceeded to go out of your way to give him hope in his darkest hour and Richard was forever grateful to you.
“There’s a place in Pennsylvania. It’s called Valley Forge General Hospital. I think it is in Phoenixville.” You softly told him as he hung on your every word. You swore Richard looked at you like you hung the moon. “They might be able to repair you, Dick.”
He held your hands as he did his best to kiss them with what was left of his lips. You could feel his visible teeth touching the skin of your knuckles through the gauze you had just wrapped around his head. If you recommended it, he’d go there. He’d fix his face and then he’d return to Hollywood. Maybe he wouldn’t get lead parts anymore, but he could play a villain! Anything to make enough to support you… you’d say yes if he proposed, right? You were always so sweet to him… he’d treat you well!
Richard was also deeply insecure because a lot of the other soldiers also gave you attention. Better looking soldiers. Able bodied ones. Look at him and only him! Richard made more money than all of those scrubs could ever dream of! So choose him! Please.
Private Terrence Jones (Georgia, Dock Worker)
“Ma’am, you don’t have to do so much for me. I’m fine, I swear.” Terrence always tried to brush off his injuries. He was determined to prove he was just as capable as a white man in this time of war. Although he didn’t enjoy your care. It was nice not to be treated like he was lesser than everyone else for once.
Terrence was a handsome African American man from Brunswick, Georgia. He was tall and stocky, as well as an extremely respectful gentleman. More so than any of your other patients.
Terrence wasn’t treated the best at the field hospital due to his ethnicity, so he was shocked you’d actually help him. There were too many injured to all fit into the segregated area so he was overflow into the regular field hospital… so he was often neglected by the white medical staff. So much so that he nearly had his foot amputated from untreated trench foot. Yet you reassured him that he was just as worthy of treatment as the others. He was also a soldier and a patient under your care so you would do your best to make sure he had the same chance of surviving. Plus, there were very few black nurses staffed to properly treat all the injured black soldiers in the field hospital. It was ridiculous how segregation and Jim Crow laws were still present in this time of dire circumstances.
Terrance would always shy away from touch, no matter how much he sought it out. He didn’t want to cause any problems. Nor did he want you to face any discrimination from treating him. Gods he couldn’t bear for you to be called any names that would be along the lines of heinous ones he was designated. Terrence couldn’t bear for you to be treated horribly just for doing your job. He would not forgive himself if you were harmed in any way, even if it was merely verbal abuse. You were one of the few people here that were kind to him. You had saved him from being a cripple, Terrence felt an obligation to protect you in anyway he could.
“I don’t need much. Honest, I swear.” He’d mutter while you bandaged his foot. He was glad his blush wasn’t visible due to how dark his skin was. He’d be so embarrassed if you knew how he truly felt. Of how he loved you despite the societal pressures. “I don’t want to cause you trouble, ma’am.”
“Terrence, I can’t let your feet rot off. You said you were a dock worker and I don’t think they’ll let you work without them.” You sighed while you rewrapped his feet. “So just let me treat you.”
Terrence protects you from any soldiers or nurses who try to make comments about how you treat him and other soldiers of color. Even if it would make him have a harder time in the hospital or out in the field, he still would stand up for you. Terrence would defend your honor!
“You don’t know anything about her! She’s a good nurse and I won’t let you run your mouth about her. Don’t you dare call her that.”
Terrence would sometimes share little tidbits about himself. Like his love of southern jazz music and how he worked at J.A. Jones Construction Company shipyard. He even told you about how he helped construct some of the Liberty ships.
Unlike the others, Terrence knew you’d never be able to have a good life with him no matter how much he wanted to be with you. He would never subject you to ridicule and disrespect for your entire life if you chose him, no matter how much it hurt his heart. Terrence’s love was selfless. He may never be able to have you, but Terrence would do anything for your happiness.
Scout Carmelo Marino (New York, Butcher)
“Ciao, Bella! Did ya come to patch me up? Ya sure know how to make a man weak in what’s left of his knees.” Carmelo was the biggest flirt of all your patients. He’s also the loudest, not just because he’s an Italian American from New York City, but because he is Carmelo Marino.
Carmelo was a field artillery scout so he had the in raid of dangerous job to gather intel and to check terrain for artillery planning. But the young man bit off more than he could chew.
Carmelo had his left leg amputated after he bravely scouted ahead of his squad’s tank for landmines, only to step on a German S-mine or ‘Bouncing Betty.’ He was extremely lucky to only have lost a leg and had some shrapnel lodged into him, but other than that the experience didn’t deter this strong willed flirt.
“I’m glad I lived so I can see your beautiful face here, Bella.” Carmelo winked. “Are ya rationed, sweetheart? I’d like to make a pass at ya if you’re not going steady. I’ll take ya back to New York and show ya my family’s butcher shop on Mulberry street. We got the best meat in Manhattan. Even make our own prosciutto.”
Carmelo sometimes would feign more pain than he actually had just to steal you away from the others. He couldn’t bear to have your heart swayed by another man.
“You’re breaking’ my heart, Bella! I’m in agony over here.” Carmelo held his chest as he put on a show for you. He knew his peers were rolling their eyes at him. “I think a little kiss on the cheek would make it better.”
Carmelo loves to brag so he can make himself more appealing to you, but deep down it’s because he’s terrified you’ll pick one of the other men here. He was only a butcher after all. He didn’t make a lot of money, but he was definitely the only one who always got you to smile. Even though he didn’t know how he’d continue living with only one leg, nor was he sure if he’d ever have the life he once had, Carmelo was determined to not make you worry about him.
“I’ll show ya around downtown Manhattan if ya fly back with me. I’ll show ya all the stops. Just picture it. You. Me. And the swanky stork club.” He winked. “I might fall on my arse, but I used to be a good dancer. Since I don’t have a left foot anymore, I won’t have two left feet.”
Carmelo made it his mission to make you smile and laugh no matter how much his peers rolled their eyes at him, because Carmelo loved you.
He’d often crack jokes or make faces just to see that pretty smile. If he was sent home after this, he will be sending you a fat stack of letters until you reply. Carmelo was determined to make you his!
He may be the son of immigrants from Italy who own a mom and pop butcher shop, but Carmelo was willing to give you the world. All you had to do was say yes and he’d whisk you away… whatever you wanted, he’d do everything in his power to get it for you.
I tried making this gender neutral but idk if I did it right, please tell me any mistakes i made!
—————————————————-
The royal family has always been held to high standards. how they dress, how they act, everything has to be perfect in the eyes of the public
But a corpse sprayed with perfume is just a corpse nonetheless
Behind the closed doors of the royal chambers, anything was fair game; that was what your mother taught you: nobody is your friend, nobody is your ally. Do what you must to survive.
You never understood why you, being the youngest of 7 siblings, would have to fight to survive. The crown was never yours to take. So you stayed in your room, read books about knights in shining armor and princesses in castles, dreaming that maybe when you inevitably get sold to the highest bidder with the disguise of a political marriage, you could escape and live an adventure of your own
Oh, how foolish you were
you the one that was never seen as a treath and lived a quiet little life in your room, while your siblings, their mothers and allies stabbed eachother in the back.
one after the other the numbers where decreasing, 8 at the start now only one remains
your father very past his prime not able to have more children, so there’s only one heir to the throne.
long live the new ruler Y/N
You were never meant to be the next ruler of this kingdom, with all the responsibilities that came with being the head of the empire also came with a lot of expectation, one particularly was the one that gave you the most headaches
children.
you were expected to have multiple children ideally with different people to make political alliances and join new lands into your territory.
and a couple people were more than eager to bear them.
kalos the knight
Kalos was your friend, Was.
He was a trainee for the royal guard, he was an extraordinary strategist but lacked a lot of physical strength due to an illness he had.
you two met as kids bonding over a book you were reading, he used to pretend to be the knight in your stories and made promises of saving you when the time comes. You never meant to make him join your harem, you only suggested it when you found out that as a consort he would be able to join war meetings and go up the ranks as a knight.
it was a simple plan really, one with not much thinking behind it, he would get to use his brain as a war strategist and you had the excuse of starting a harem with somebody you had no interest in touching you or you touching them.
That was until in one of your personal tea parties kalos came dressed in silky clothing, one that showed his chest and shoulders. He put make -up on that day to accentuate his beautiful eyes and keep playing with your hair and trying to make excuses to touch you, after all you were so very tired of being a ruler and he was so very capable with his hands after all.
you understood too late that his devotion as a knight was not to the crown but to you
Bella the scholar
Bella had once been the apprentice of your father's most trusted advisor. After his passing, she inherited both his position and, much to her dismay, the responsibility of advising you. She often claimed she'd much rather spend her days tending to plants than attending council meetings, yet somehow she always managed to have the answer to every problem placed before the throne.
For a scholar, Bella looked nothing like the stories described. There were no flowing silk gowns or delicate gloves hiding ink-stained fingers. She favored practical tunics and sturdy boots, clothes that could survive crawling through forests or kneeling in muddy garden beds. Her hands were rough, littered with tiny cuts, calluses, and dirt permanently lodged beneath her nail,a testament to countless hours spent cultivating rare herbs and studying botany.
Rumor had it she could outlift half the royal knights, and after watching her haul sacks of soil across the palace gardens without breaking a sweat, you were inclined to believe it. She had little patience for etiquette, even less for nobles who mistook appearance for competence. More than one arrogant lord had learned the hard way that the woman they dismissed as a mere gardener possessed both a sharper mind and a stronger punch than they did.
Bella joined the harem by a dirty trick she pulled on you, the way you spend countless sleepless nights trying to solve problems for your people charmed her heart very quickly. One day while having some tea in her chambers you found that this new brew she prepared was specially sweet.
the next thing you knew was that you were passed out on her bed.
according to her you were just so sleepy and so vulnerable that she just let you sleep on her bed for the night.
After all, if any noble or servant saw their ruler in that state, they would talk and talk and that could harm your reputation.
oh but the implications of spending the night in another’s one chambers was so scandalous!
and thus she became part I of your harem as a “cover up”.
is not like she has been planning for months no, that would be foolish
Midas the foreigner
Midas was the only one that was disgusted to join the harem at first, he was more or less a gift sent by their parents to promote good relationships between lands.
When you two meet he was disgusted by you, not that he found you ugly or unattractive but that the thought of somebody using people for pleasure the same way one would use a new shirt everyday makes him feel inhuman.
he was very surprised when you made the statement of having not intention of touching them. A wave of relief washed over them, but only followed by skepticism, this must be a dirty trick to make them lower their guard, well news flash is not gonna happened.
they didn’t lower their guard for the first two weeks, even when you offer pastries and books about music that he adored so much.
Even when you got him his very own arp to perform in front of a banquet of people, something he's been dreaming of since he was a child. He didn’t lower his guard.
even when he tried so hard to convince himself that the ache in his heart and pant was not because he caught a whiff of your perfume.
when he finally lower his guard, full expecting you to take him, he got offended by you not doing anything.
not offended at YOU exactly. Maybe you were just too shy?
what if he wasn’t beautiful enough?, he was selected for you rather than his sibling, then why. Won’t. You. Take.him
he was breathtaking in any sense of the world
he could be more beautiful, he could be stunning he could be whatever you want him to be
# pairings: yandere sugar daddy harem x sugar baby reader
# synopsis: eight obsessive lovers think they’re the only one—until their secrets collide. now, you’re trapped between devotion, danger, and the illusion of choice.
# warnings: this will contain dark themes such as obsession and possessiveness. if you are uncomfortable, please block me. viewer discretion is advised. minors DNI
# notes: reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated!
the front door handle jiggles. the back one, too. your apartment is small—too small for this. for two men who shouldn’t know each other to be reaching for you at once, calling you baby like it means something different on their tongues.
you back into the wall, calculating. the money. the gifts. the lies. the men. you’ve always kept it separate—clean, compartmentalized. eight lives. eight masks. never crossing. never slipping.
but something’s cracking.
“just open the door,” says one—closer now, coaxing. elijah? no—lucas? they blur together in the panic.
“i saw the light on,” the other murmurs through the rear entrance. “you home, sweetheart?”
you inch toward the hallway. your mind races through excuses, through escape plans. one of them is going to see the other. one of them is going to know.
and then what?
the front door knocks again. harder. louder. not a request, now—a warning.
your phone lights up on the counter.
eight missed messages.
three voicemails.
your name repeated like a prayer and a threat.
they’re closing in, and they still think they’re the only one. still think you belong only to them.
but if this is the night the truth comes out—
you might not get to leave.
your phone lights up again.
another message:
“i know you’re in there. don’t make me wait.”
you don’t recognize the number. but the tone is familiar. possessive. low. someone who thinks waiting is beneath him.
your throat tightens.
the front door handle clicks. the back one rattles. your apartment feels like it’s shrinking, the walls pressing in with every second.
you don’t even have time to figure out which one is standing where.
all you can think about is the second bedroom elijah wanted to fill. the silk robe nathan said you’d grow into. the prenatal vitamins matthew left like it was the most natural thing. the way kai stares too long at your stomach. how xavier whispers to it like there’s already something growing inside.
your stomach twists.
you never agreed to anything. never promised forever. you gave them smiles and touches, laughter and attention—and they gave you gifts. trips. jewelry. money. enough to live comfortably, to stay just out of reach.
but now they’re all reaching.
the back door knob jolts violently.
a voice, clearer this time:
“you’re not answering. why aren’t you answering me?”
your fingers dig into the edge of the counter. your heart is racing. this isn’t normal. this isn’t love.
this is a trap.
a cage lined with velvet and diamond-studded handcuffs.
another message buzzes through.
“i saw him. who was he?”
your blood runs cold.
they’re watching. maybe more than one. maybe all of them.
you inch toward your bathroom, silently lock the door behind you. your fingers fumble for the window. it’s too narrow to crawl out of, but you crack it anyway—for air. for escape. for the illusion of safety.
your phone vibrates again.
“we were supposed to be forever.”
“you lied to me.”
“i’m outside. don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”
you slide to the floor, curling against the tub, breath shaking in your chest.
you’ve played this game so well.
smiled through dinners. laughed at their jokes. let them believe they were the only one. and maybe, for a while, it was fun.
but now?
now the game is over.
you’ve always known how to lie. how to perform.
but tonight, you’ll have to survive.
because one of them has found out.
and maybe—just maybe—they’ve told the others.
your knees press into cold tile.
somewhere outside, voices blur into one another—soft at first, like murmurs carried by wind, then louder. firm. insistent.
you don’t breathe.
two voices. not yelling. not yet. but the fury simmers beneath every word, masked only by the fact that they think they’re alone with you.
they don’t know about each other.
not yet.
and that window—the sliver you thought was escape—is now the perfect peephole. one of them paces by it, a familiar silhouette cloaked in tailored wool. you recognize the glint of his watch in the moonlight. lucas.
composed. deliberate. terrifying.
he’s not supposed to be here.
none of them are.
your phone buzzes again. and again. and again.
a dozen names. a dozen new messages.
where are you?
are you avoiding me?
i saw your lights on.
i’ll wait all night if i have to.
come outside, baby. please.
i miss you.
don’t make me come in.
a shiver rips down your spine.
you open your texts, hands trembling. a photo loads. grainy. zoomed in. taken from across the street.
it’s you. earlier today. unlocking your front door.
you never saw him.
another one loads. this time, through your bedroom window. you’re changing. your back to the glass.
“i brought dinner,” someone says. sweet. calm. too calm.
matthew.
he always brings food. always watches you eat, like he’s studying your habits, waiting for signs. now, you wonder if he’s been dosing it.
your stomach flips.
you think of the vitamins. the tests. the new toothbrush that just appeared one morning in your bathroom—same brand as his. the silk sheets that mysteriously matched the ones in leo’s house. the second toothbrush. the tracking app you didn’t install.
your name echoes from the hallway.
not a question. a command.
“open. the. door.”
you flinch.
they don’t know they’re all here. yet.
but if they find out—if they see each other—what happens next won’t be about love. or even possession.
it’ll be war.
and you?
you’re the trophy they’ve all convinced themselves belongs to them.
you inch toward the closet. pull back the false panel you had installed months ago—just in case. it’s small, meant for shoes. cash. secrets. but it might buy you time.
you crawl inside the space.
the sound of a door opening echoes through your apartment.
but you never opened it.
you never said a word.
someone just let themselves in.
you press yourself into the farthest corner of the crawlspace, knees to chest, breath held so tight your lungs ache. the door creaks open—slowly. deliberately. like whoever entered doesn’t need to hurry.
your phone vibrates once more against your thigh.
you don’t look.
you already know.
footsteps now. one pair. deliberate. heavy. someone confident.
they don’t call out.
don’t ask for you.
they already know where you are.
floorboards groan. the closet is close.
you clamp a hand over your mouth. heart jackhammering. one wrong move and they’ll hear you breathing.
and then—
a pause.
no movement. no voice. just silence so thick it buzzes.
until another sound slices through it.
“they’re not answering you either, huh?”
a second voice.
your stomach drops.
they’re both inside.
“maybe they’re out.”
“they’re not.”
silence again.
“how do you know?”
“because their phone’s still here. and the lights are on.”
lucas. that calculating edge in his voice.
and elijah. smoother, but colder. too calm for someone this angry.
“who the fuck are you?” lucas asks, voice low, sharp.
“funny. i was about to ask you the same thing.”
you hold your breath.
“you’ve been watching them.”
“so have you.”
“don’t play dumb—why are you here?”
“same reason as you. they belongs to me.”
something slams. hard. a chair? a table?
you flinch.
“you don’t even know them.”
“i know everything i need to. and i know you’re in my way.”
they’re circling each other. measuring. two wolves in the same cage.
you stay frozen.
silent.
until—
another voice.
“both of you need to shut the hell up.”
matthew.
“they’re not a fucking toy you get to bicker over. they’re ours.”
the temperature in the apartment drops.
“ours?” lucas repeats, cold.
“you think they belongs to us?”
a pause.
“no,” matthew says. “i know they do.”
another voice. softer. hesitant.
nathan.
“…what’s going on?”
four.
four of them now.
you bite down on your knuckles to keep from making a sound.
the walls are closing in.
“they’ve been lying to all of us,” lucas says, sharp and sure. “don’t you get that?”
“and yet you’re still here,” elijah snaps. “so are you really mad? or just jealous?”
“jealous?” matthew scoffs. “i’ve already planned our future.”
more footsteps.
another knock.
“hey,” kai says from the hallway. “is something wrong?”
“you too?” lucas hisses.
you hear a breath hitch. kai.
“…wait. you’re all here?”
“no one invited you, kid,” elijah says, voice like steel.
“they didn’t invite any of us,” lucas snaps.
the air goes still.
“they’ve been playing all of us,” someone whispers. maybe nathan. maybe damien. maybe someone new.
“you shut your mouth,” leo growls. sudden. vicious. “don’t talk about her like that.”
“why?”
“because they’re still ours.”
“you really think they wants any of us?”
“they don’t need to want us,” damien finally speaks. “they need to understand.”
“understand what?”
“that this ends tonight.”
your blood turns to ice.
they’ve stopped talking.
and now?
now they’re moving.
together.
you hear the footsteps draw closer. eight sets. slow. united.
no longer fighting each other.
they’ve made a choice.
and you’re the one they’ve chosen.
your phone lights up one more time.
you should’ve picked one of us.
but now we’ve picked you.
all of us.
your breath catches.
you can hear them in your room now. feet shuffling. drawers opening. your closet door creaks.
you press yourself deeper into the hideaway, heart slamming against your ribs.
then—
a hand brushes the panel from the other side.
gently.
and a voice.
“there you are.”
you don’t scream.
you don’t move.
you just stare as the panel starts to shift open—slow, deliberate.
but it’s not just one hand.
another one grips the edge from the other side.
and another.
and another.
different sets of fingers. different grips.
they’ve all found you. at once.
and for the first time all night, they’re not fighting each other.
they’re working together.
the last thing you hear—before the panel gives way completely—is a chorus of voices, soft and smiling, overlapping in perfect, practiced harmony:
According to the poll, we have ourselves Loser! Yandere, Crybaby! Yandere, Clumsy! Yandere, Tsundere! Yandere. NSFW at the end; non-con touching and oral. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns. Colour-coded. 2.4k words. Read it slowly~ Having names would've made this easier, lol.
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Do you know when you have to do a group project in a class where you don't know anybody? So then you end up paired up with the other loners in the class. Hoping your group members are not slackers that make you carry the entire project by yourself.
Interestingly, you end up in a group with 4 other boys. You fit in, in a way. You're also wearing loose sweats and a smelly hoodie. Messy hair, baggy eyes—a loser just like the rest of them. But they didn't seem very fond of you.
Maybe they were secretly sexist, a bunch of incels. Since as soon as you step into the booked study room, their chatter dies down. They all turn to look at you. Staring you up and down, stripping you bare with their tired gaze.
Awkward silence fills the room. They sure were a lot more talkative in the group chat. No one dares speak a word until you say something. "Hi... Sorry I'm late. I couldn't, um, find the room."
You don't have to think about where to sit. The only available spot is beside the weirdo following your every step. His eyes wider than they should be, giving you a creepy grin.
"Um, anyway, what's the plan for our project?" Making eye contact with the shy boy sitting in front of you caused him to bring his head down, undoubtedly concealing the tears forming. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, he does that a lot. He's fine!" The guy to his right speaks up, laughing cheerfully while ruffling the poor boy's hair.
The grumpy-looking boy crosses his arms on the table. His tone couldn't be more apathetic. "We already talked about what part each of us has to complete. I don't see why we need to continue being in these uncomfortable chairs."
"Right. I guess. What about me?" Your brows furrow as he rudely shrugs. Your head shifts across the three boys in front of you, then to the one sitting beside you, who appears to have an unsatisfying answer.
"Oh, y-you don't n-need to do a-anything. We h-have everything h-handled."
Everyone nods in agreement. Have they already discussed this before your arrival? It wasn't fair. They can't just treat you like an outsider among the outsiders just because you're a girl! Your fists tighten on your pants. "So then at the end of the term you can rat me out to the professor and have him fail me?"
"No! Uhh... sniff, we wouldn't do that..." The crybaby replies quickly, still failing to make eye contact. All this time you were worried about them not contributing, but now they're making you the freeloader instead.
"I can't just take your word for it. I need some sort of role. Otherwise, I have to ask the TAs to switch groups."
You didn't mean for it to sound like a threat. Not like it matters. They probably love to have you leave their childish boy's-only club. To spend the entire time discussing their hentai games or some shit like that. Not getting anything done. Noses buried in their devices, playing Roblox Uno with each other. Yeah, you can imagine that.
Too lost in thought insulting them in your head, you fail to notice how the air of the room shifted. More tense, uneasy.
"Oh, I have an idea! Okay, what if you were, like, this feedback-monitor kind of guy? I—I mean, girl. You can tell us what you think of our parts and keep us on track. Genius, I know!"
"She sure brings m-motivation... hehe.~"
You ignore the whisper, knowing his eyes are where they shouldn't be. Drooling over how your thighs squish together. Nodding at the suggestion of your other group member. "Ahem... I can be an editor. If everyone else agrees?"
"...Fine. I don't really care or anything."
"Just don't be, sniff, too harsh on us, please..."
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It's been over a month of you offering criticism on their work. Always starting out with the compliments and then moving to the area needing improvement. Figuring it's the same way you'd want to be treated if someone is assessing you.
The research was done quickly. You praised it for its thoroughness, earning a grumble. Yet you could see a faint red on his cheeks. The writing part incorporated into the poster was done wonderfully. Explained by being the boy's "personal hobby," that is smut. The design was also done. The tearful male pouting up, happy to hear your approval. Sobbing over a minor complaint, which you'd attempted to soothe with pats on his shoulders.
However, there was one boy who you couldn't get ahold of. The one responsible for the script. It's unusual that he didn't answer any of your messages. He's the type to be chronically online. You do remember him saying something dramatic about a crippling fear of evaluations. It sounded like a joke.
Deadline is approaching. Reluctantly, you decided to drive to his place to confront him. The others had already gathered there before... without you, of course. (Most probably to have a gooning session.) Nevertheless, the address was in the group chat.
Six knocks, and he finally opens the door. Lacking a shirt. His thin torso uncovered. You don't question it or why he's sweating bullets. Exercising definitely isn't your first guess. "Heyyyy. Now's not really a good time..." He brings a hand on his hair. Trying so hard to fix the nest.
"Your garage door is open. Are all those bikes yours, or are the guys in there with you?"
He rubs the back of his neck. Intimidated by your scary tone. Fidgeting with his locks. He lies with a stutter. "Yep. Yeah, it's all mine."
"Y'know what, I don't care. I just can't wait to get this project done with. Look, I have some feedback for you. Since everyone else is inside, they could benefit from hearing this too."
You push him aside. Entering without hesitation. He tries pulling you back but doesn't succeed.
"Wait, hold on!" The moment he comes in contact with you, he becomes completely weak. Losing the strength to stop you. A hand timidly around your wrist, barely grasping it. His clammy finger sticking to your skin.
The sight of his living room draws you to pause.
A picture of you is placed on a table. Dead flower petals everywhere. Tall candles brighten up the room. The curtains shunning all sunlight.
Various objects sit around the image. Straws, chewed pencils, hair ties, used tissues, even your old toothbrush. Behind it, on the corkboard hanging on the wall, are more photos of you—unaware of their stalking—around every corner of campus. The red pins also hold fan art, vivid poems, your schedule, and printed text messages poorly taped together to read "good boys."
They all look petrified when you inspect their shrine, standing stiffly. Wearing custom shirts with your face on them. Marked with "our beloved," your full name, plus a heart. In their hands is pizza, a cozy space on the ground with blankets, pillows thrown around. Some sort of daylight slumber party.
"What is she doing in here? Why did you let her in, idiot? Do you have a death wish?" He smacks the other male on the head.
"Oww! I tried! I tried. She was, like, strong! So fucking hot when she's annoyed."
The conversation behind you fades out. Your attention shifts towards the weeping boy. "You weren't supposed to see this... Sniff. Now, you're going to hate us! Wahhh!" He covers his face, sobbing.
"What the hell is this? Some sort of cult?" You search for answers from the guy that always gives the honest truth. He responds with his usual obsessed, lovesick expression. His sleeve wipes the corners of his mouth. "W-we do worship y-you. We are c-completely d-devoted to you. It fits the d-definition. So y-yes?"
The tallest boy steps forward, whining. "I thought we agreed on the term fan club. I put that in the official rules, guys. Come on!"
"And all this time, I thought you guys hated me... when you were actually doing all this."
You step closer to their holy site. Your gaze skims through their passionate writing. Reading specific details about your life. They were experts at knowing you. It kind of makes you flattered.
"What do we do now? What do we do with her? She's going to call the police on us. We're all going to jail. This is it. I knew joining was a bad idea." He bangs his head on the wall. Creating a pity corner while he and the crybaby break down.
"I have r-rope in my b-backpack. My s-superstition was telling me t-this would h-happen!"
"Great! We can keep her in my basement. Then live together in a harem. Like that one scenario we fantasized about. It's perfect~"
Why are they talking like you're not in front of them? These were insane, dangerous (?) men. Very virgin, very lustful. Longing to get their paws on you. Within a moment, they form a circle around you. A sad frown, a cold look, a calm smile, a sly grin—all tackle you to the ground. The soft blanket breaks your fall.
"Oof—!"
You feel hands all over your body. Tangling in your hair, stroking your cheek, tracing your collarbone, squeezing your breast, rubbing your wrist, pressing your stomach, gripping your thigh, grasping your knee. Their movement shifts higher or lower, each of them trying to get a piece of you. Your response is to squirm. Ignore their comments and try to get out before things escalate. Your stomach twists in a knot. Unable to speak. Unable to move.
It makes you feel so weird, overwhelming... The way they stare like nothing else exists except you. Innocent touches, suggestive touches, firm, or gentle. They experiment with your physical attributes.
"Ah... hic, so soft!"
"And so real."
"J-just p-perfect~"
"S-shit..."
It doesn't take long for them to start reaching beneath your clothes. Greedy for more contact. A clumsy hand enters your pants. Grazing your lower lips, pulling them and poking the hot inside. Another impatient one follows suit, playing with your clit. Swears and worships waver from their mouth.
The other two boys with their mommy kinks knead your chest. Thumb circling your nipples, rolling the hardened nub around. Tearful eyes beg for you, a shaky sigh leaves the other. You're wet enough to be penetrated. Fingers, one by one, stuff your hole.
"T-t-tight!" He moans loudly. You return the sound. "M-master's face c-contorting in p-pleasure. Ahhh, b-better than I ever i-imagined."
"Mmh, we need to take pictures next time. That expression is so fucking cute~"
"Nnnghhh. Wait... don't..." Despite your protests, your clothes come off. The smell of arousal thick in the air. Minds clouded with lust. Squeaks and gasps fill the silence.
"This is crazy. This is crazy! What are we doing? Dammit... You're so hot."
"Hic, thank you for existing. Sniff. What w-would we do without you?”
The most vocal male buries his knuckles deep in your pussy. Three digits stretching you out. Rocking your body with his erratic thrusts. He giggles and makes a remark about how you're clenching around his fingers. The smiling one massages your thigh, simultaneously licking off the juices from when he was inside you. His movement feels calming, the opposite of his hasty peers. He lowers his head, tongue darting out, flicking your sensitive spot.
Your upper torso recieves a similar kind of treatment. Lips wrapping around your boobs. Sloppy slurps as they try to suck the entire thing in their mouth. Hands still move on your body. Warming you up with their loving touch.
Giving in, you close your eyes—spread your legs and grab the hair of the boys devouring your flesh. They stutter out together, "M-mommy~ Are we doing this right? Sniff, are we making you feel good? Are we good boys?"
"Um, yeah... Fuck. I..." You throw your head back. Arching your back, pushing towards them. "Ahhn~"
"Don't forget about us, master. Or we're gonna get really jealous!"
"Mhm. T-that's against t-the rules."
"You—Fuck! Haa... Mmgh~"
They can tell you're about to come, so all of them pick up their speed. Suckling on your nipples faster. Fingering your cunt deeper, hitting that spongy spot that makes you see stars. Your thighs are squeezed, your stomach and waist tickle under their gentle graze. The wetness on your sensitive nub grows when one continues lapping at your clit like a starving man.
You hear them beg. Plead for your release. The climax approaches, and they get exactly what they ask for. A low groan escapes you as they continue to milk your finish. You've never come so hard. Your body feeling weak. All dizzy, tingly, completely blissed out.
Looking around, you inspect the reactions of the others. Some shield their crotch in embarrassment. Some don't feel the need to cover the effect you have on them.
"D-don't worry about u-us. H-how were w-we?"
"Good..." You clear your hoarse throat. Finding the strength to sit up. Very aware that you're naked. Still stared at. You grab a blanket to hide yourself. "Good. Um, can I have my clothes back?"
"We should clean you first, right? Yeah?" He checks with his peers for confirmation, which they quietly agree. He also grabs your hands, showing you his best puppy eyes. "And maybe we can keep your panties as a souvenir. If you let us, of course. Pretty please!"
"I'll think about it...?" Your answer causes him to squeal. Resisting the urge to hug you, instead going to the bathroom to grab a towel. The faucet turning on to dampen it.
The crybaby hands you his drink, "i-it's water. Uhh, we also have pizza. Sniff. Veggie, pepperoni, Hawaiian—"
"—Please don't make fun of it. I swear, the normies don't seem to get how good it is."
"Hah... And we're faaar from n-normal."
You take a sip from the bottle. All of them watching your every move. Locked in the way you breathe. "Yeah, about that. We should talk."
Suddenly everyone is tilting their heads to the floor. Their friend comes back, holding up the wet fabric. "We will. Especially about the harem thing. But let's get you all nice and clean, okay~?"
That towel is definitely being added to their shrine.
A/n: Sorry this ain't the Chernabog Reader continuation. But their dorm song made me want to write about my fave dorm. Been working on this for a month.
Posting this on anime drop day. Listen to the song on loop while reading this with the lyrics in mind on you and our Hearts bois dynamic, I know I will.
Pairing: Yandere!Heartslabyul x GN!Student!Reader
CW: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT INSIDE. Yandere themes/AU/ my attempt at yandere in general. AGED UP COLLEGE AU! Mostly headcannon stuff. And some NSFW ones.
DO NOT REPOST PLAGARIZE STEAL COPY EDIT TRANSLATE AND OR USE FOR AI. Rather reblog like comment and follow pls n thnx.
Obedience is ABSOLUTE.
The Crimson Tyrant and his loyal card soldiers.
From the moment you accidentally get summoned to another world full of magic after getting railed over by the horse-drawn carriage holding that enchanted coffin, your fate was already sealed before this journey even began.
To Night Raven College, an actual college for mages.
Despite your magicless soul not aligning with the main seven dorms and being cast out into Ramshackle Dorm along with the other magicless folk; the Yuu squad they're called, along with their direbeast Grim.
You became a special exception like them, with Headmaster Dire Crowley letting you stay on the condition of working under him, your very admission being paid through by your diligent assistance under his oh so kind guidance.
Through course work and tending to matters around campus alongside the prefects ergo the Yuu squad, you attracted the attention of those who would soon become your most closest friends turned —
MATES.
Getting close to your fellow freshman; Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade, during your first few classes together got them to invite you to sit with them at their group's usual hang out spot on campus during breaks between courses.
From there, they introduce you to their juniors and doormates; Trey Clover and Cater Diamond. And at the head of the group, the redheaded dorm leader; Riddle Rosehearts.
Instant sparks of connection come to life between you and them. Your very aura drew them in like moths to a flame.
You, their curious rabbit, getting lost in their trimmed hedged rose mazes.
You are their lovely rose they wish to paint red in their signature dorm color.
Invited to their tea parties along with the prefects and Grim sooner than you realized. Being giddy at seeing the pink flamingos and baby hedgehogs they tend to. Them even teaching you how to play croquet. Their encouragement and enthusiasm made you feel so at ease, content ... perhaps even the place where you belong.
Ace; the energetic and organized guy that he is, loves showing off for you, whether playing card tricks to get your praise and attention or to make sure your shared snacks get balled up and stashed away from his housewarden and professors' sight.
Ace is the most blunt guy of the group, but he does reel it back in guilt if he says something that hurts your feelings. He'll make it up to you right away by taking you down to Foothill Town for a bite or two.
"Okay, okay, sheesh, don't take it so seriously! Tell you what, I'll make it up to you. A night on the town, you and me! I promise you won't regret it~"
Deuce is not the smartest egg of the group, but he's a sincere and earnest hardworker. But your heart sways when his former gangster side creeps out now and then to threaten any bastard that dares lay their hand on you for whatever reason. You're also his favorite study buddy.
Your encouragement, praise, and doting make the aspiring scholar be a dopey grinning fool. He's more than up for taking you for a ride on his newly obtained Magical Wheel.
"Hang on tight to me, Y/n! Don't let go ... ever ... uh I don't want you to fall is what I meant! The rush, the speed, it's an experience I wanna share with you! Here we go!"
Cater loves showing you off on his Magicam photo op tours. Prepare for lots of selfies. The cafes and shops in Foothill Town he takes you to frequently after courses finish for the day and you both are free. He also buys you a cheap affordable smartphone if you don’t have one; not having one is a crime in his book.
His tags for his posts with you in them are always praising you and your natural beauty. You can always count on Cater to be quite quirky and upbeat, lifting your spirits should you ever be down in the dumps. Especially when he personally calls you Y/n-chan, it always makes your heart skip a beat.
"Aw, you're so adorable, you know that~? Hey Y/n-chan~ Want a front row seat to the Pop Music Club's next performance? Kalim and Lilia are hoping to see you there ... so do I. It'd make me really happy~"
Trey has dubbed you his personal taste taster. Seeing the pleased faces of his dorm mates whenever they partake in his baked goods. But the moment you first tried some yourself when you were first invited over to their dorm made him feel unimaginable pride and joy.
But you are not spared from his mother-hen side when it comes to dental hygiene. If his dorm mates have to put up with it, you are too, considering you visit their dorm so often. That didn't stop him from preparing fresh treats as gifts for you in neatly wrapped packages and baskets. He's a reliable guardian of the group, you included.
"Sorry if I come off as too much. I just want you to be in good health. We all do. I'm grateful to you, looking out for Ace and Deuce so much. I know they can be a handful. Truly, you have my thanks."
Riddle is the fiercest of the five. Adhering to the strictness of rules more than anything, but still a knowledgeable and gifted mage that's willing to help tutor you should you ask for it. And yet, the intimacies of another is new territory for him he never thought possible due to the kind of character that he is. But you and your softness, sweetness, and genuineness have made this thorny dorm head lower his guard and let you in, becoming gentle with you when managing his known short fuse temper, inviting you to their Unbirthday parties more and taking strolls with you through the rose gardens.
But he can be stern with you when it comes to adhering to the rules of campus life. Especially when you enter his dorm due to spending so much time with his kouhai. Albeit, he's lenient with you for the most part. You're the strawberry tart of his eye.
"Should you have any trouble, academic or otherwise, please don't hesitate to reach out. You are always welcome at Heartslabyul. You are our honorary member, after all. My favorite rose."
But with the ties of close friendship there comes —
PROTECTIVENESS.
Ace and Deuce stay close to you the most out of the five as they meet up with you, Grim and the Yuu squad often out on Main Street leading up to the main NRC castle building. They flock to either side of you as they argue and ramble with Grim and each other for the most part, you being used to the Ace Deuce combi at this point. But they act as your buffers and bodyguards just as much as friends. Especially if some annoying threats come your way, whether they be fellow students or otherwise ...
"Okay, shall we help our poor helpless one here, Deuce-kun~?"
"Of course, Ace-kun. I'm looking forward to it."
Trey's knowing gaze watching you from afar paired with Cater keeping tabs on you through the lively Magicam posts, forums and group chats in case word of you pops up should you ever be lost or get caught up in something you shouldn't. He also made sure you exchange contact info with all of them just in case. They are your trustworthy senpai, after all.
Although their group chat of texts and messages were mostly checking up on you, your health, your schedule, your free time. All get brought up. Amidst their talks of classes, clubs, and more.
These four beseech their dorm head's instructions to safeguard you should any misfortune come your way. Like getting caught up in others’ troubles. The student body of NRC can be quite devious as well as rowdy when crossed for whatever reason, however small. Especially some of the other dorm heads.
And no magic means self defense for you, even if you're not well trained. So yes, the Yuu squad helps train you. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho and a reluctant Sebek do too. Freshmen gotta stick together, after all.
Of course, when things don't go to shit, they each show off for you. For your fellow freshmen, they're more blatantly obvious in cocky arrogance when showing off. Even for the most mundane stuff like lifting heavy stuff, getting things for you, even handling Grim when he messes with you.
Deuce's track meets have him flushing with bashfulness at you cheering for him on the sidelines, showing off his lean muscles as they flex while he beats track records.
Ace is the same way when he invited you to watch his basketball practices and looks forward to you cheering him on in his games.
They do love showing off to their senpai and Riddle since they get invited to their games as well, as well as Grim and the Yuus, if they have the time to spare, so you're not alone in the cheer squad.
For the dorm head and the juniors, they're more subtle ... sorta.
Cater invited you to his band practices and shows, giving off flair as he jammed out with Kalim and Lilia, winking at you as he made sure you got front row seats. Of course the others get invites too.
"I'd like to dedicate this next number to you, Y/n-chan~! I'm going all out!"
Trey's scientific ventures in the botanical garden have him surprising you with by showing his latest discoveries he and Rook have made, including new ingredients for future recipes. And flowers.
“These are for you, and like you, can liven up any room. Wanna join me in the dorm kitchen and see what kind of concoctions we can cook up?”
Riddle lets you sit in on his horseback riding session, all while Sebek was fretting over Silver, the usually sleepyhead. Watching Riddle riding Vorpal while wearing his Equestrian attire like a dashing prince makes you swoon. He's patient with you as well, helping you and Vorpal get along, knowing how difficult his prideful horse can be when letting others be close. You both are surprised when Vorpal is taken by you, letting you brush the bridge of his nose and pet his mane as well.
"You still find ways to surprise me, Y/n. Vorpal is rarely that welcoming to anyone. He truly likes you ... and he's not the only one, I assure you. Very much so."
But underneath those growing bonds, there lies the firm straight line between friendship and companionship. One none of them have crossed yet. As friends and secretly your protectors, none want to tarnish this wonderful treasure you've cultivated with them all. The very thought of your REJECTION —
While you have gotten along with the other dorms and their friends have become yours in turn, they're still wary of you slipping through their fingers and fancying others. Something they CANNOT allow.
Your feelings for them steadily grew and changed over the course of that first year. But seeing them perform during the Blazing Jewels live event with the other dorms to the open public made you fall for them like nothing ever before. Their black and gold bejeweled outfits and makeup brought out their already existing allure.
Despite the lyrics being about their dorm's way of life; the loyal card soldiers and their worthy leader, your wandering desires had you believing those lyrics were directed at you.
"Yes, your Majesty. My pleasure, my Queen."
You swore their gazes could find you amidst the hundreds of cheering fans waving their magic pen designed light sticks with the color red overtaking the coliseum. Their voices blending so gloriously, their choreography being smooth,
The after party celebrating a rousing success of a concert turned encore have you beelining straight for backstage to the tired yet glowing groups with Grim and the Prefects, gushing over their performances. Your praise and adoration for your Hearts bois come with hugs. They then lead you somewhere more private as confessions come bubbling to the surface. Mutual ones, at that.
For them all to be on the same wavelength as you with them admitting you were the inspiration for their song, revealing their hearts’ true desires for you. For them being such a tight knit group of close friends, they're willing to share. You were enticed with having all five cute guys in your favor.
But with such devotion and affection, it can all easily become like that of Overblot, embracing the —
POSSESSION.
From that night onwards, after having made your intentions loud and clear, your friendships became relationships. Very sinful ones.
Now, Riddle has a boatload of mommy issues. Where she instilled discipline and fear to keep him in control like the collars his unique magic entail, your soothing nature of affection and praise made his heart swell and mend itself.
He puts a newly picked white rose above your ear, gently pulls you down, getting you on your knees between his legs as he sits in his regal chair before he pries down his pants enough to pull out his heat, needing your touch.
He bites on his gloved hand to muffle his festering moans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, his free gloved hand wringing through your hair in firm tugs to bring you closer. Your tongue flattens, your throat slackens, and you drool all over him as you worship your Queen while he feeds you his cum.
"The Queen of Hearts had a devoted King by her side. As a temporary ruler acting in her spirit of strictness, I best adhere to that tradition … my Y/n … my loving King.”
Using food in foreplay with Trey is a must. The dorm kitchen being empty late at night has him spread some leftover apple pie and tarte Tatin all over your face, chest, and inner thighs as he has you spread out on the island counter, all for him to lap up.
He also dabbles in bondage play in his room. Adjustable wrist and ankle cuffs with hogtie connectors, keeping your legs apart as he puts you in a mating press with your hands bound to your front and your chest and lower region exposed.
He makes sure you're well cleaned up by his wandering mouth before carrying you to the bathroom, giving you a warm scented bath, hair and body thoroughly washed, giving you some spare clothes of his to sleep in as you crash in his room while he cleans up the kitchen; the dutifully vice housewarden that he is.
“You truly are the sweetest treat I've ever tasted. Don't worry. It's okay to be yourself around us. We wanna make sure you're well taken care of.”
Cater communicates to you head on, reading the atmosphere, no longer tip-toeing around the obvious sexual tension between you. You both take risque photos together, ones he doesn't intend to put on Magicam.
His unique magic also has him and his fellow dupes engaging you in quite many foreplay setups. You clad in cute outfits he made himself or bought in town, you were his photogenic muse. Having all those cocks pressed all over your quivering needy body~
Even when he streams on his phone or on his computer, yes, he'd have you pleasuring him with your hands and mouth off screen, dragging it out for the entire stream, able to keep his usual grin up as his thighs squeezed your cheeks while he stuffed your face.
“You look even cuter this way~ Makes me think you oughta be a Cam star someday. Then again, some beauties ought to be kept hidden from the world, just for our viewing pleasure~”
Now the A–Deuce Combo applies to this development as well. Tag teaming. One of them has you deep throating them up front on your hands and knees while the other rubs their length right in between your trembling ass cheeks. Then they switch spots.
Their calloused hands gained from sports makes your skin even more sensitive from their caresses, whether it's them cupping your cheeks to kiss you head on or to stimulate your already gushing spot between your thighs.
Either way, it always ends with you pressed up between them. You stroking their cocks all to have their semen mark you as theirs, glowing in their deviously gorgeous eyes.
“Geez, you're squirting all over the place! Guess we turn you on that hard, huh? Not that we're complaining~ Right, Deuce-kun~?”
“A – Ace shut up! I — I mean, he's not entirely wrong … you're so … beautiful like this. I never want this sight, this feeling, to ever go away.”
Then again, you've never been put in a position where all five of them came at you at once. This relationship you have with them is special and you were taking things as best you can at your own pace.
But then came the day things had changed.
OBSESSION.
An unruly bunch of students recently started harassing you because you were easy enough prey in their eyes. You beeline straight for the magic gate entrance littered with card symbols. Your safe haven.
Riddle could sense it in the air the moment you come out of the gate entrance with your pursuers right on your heel, tearing at your hair and uninform, their grabby hands on your body. He practically growls as he fiercely orders his loyal card soldiers to the forefront. Trouble has come knocking.
Rule 63 comes into play from instinct.
The hither-and-thither penalty now in full effect.
Those who anger the Queen in court must run through a maze with card soldier in pursuit. The entire Heartslabyul student body isn't dispatched.
Riddle's control over said maze make the configurations shift and change with ease, pathways opening and closing, dead ends trapping such skittering mice from escaping his wrath.
No matter the time of day, this self regulated dorm is his to command as faculty don't get involved in dorm related matters.
The dorm's realm goes from bright to storming gray to match his deadly aura right now as you run through the labyrinth in the hopes of losing your righteous chasers.
The path you're currently on leads you before the dorm building itself, collapsing straight into the protective arms of Ace and Deuce as their fellow dorm mates surround your attackers. You have never seen such twisted furry on your guys faces. Until now.
Doodle Suit altering the roses in the pathway to be made of metal, cutting into your pursuers limbs, blood shed staining their uniforms.
"I don't appreciate having one of our own being targeted like this. You better be prepared for what comes next ... severely."
Split Card help add Cater dupes to your guys' numbers in their onslaught against these invaders. All his lookalikes shared the same eerie, smiling look that sent chills up their spines.
"We're not big fans of those that invade our turf ... and messing with our precious kouhai was your biggest mistake."
Bet the Limit comes in handy as Deuce absorbs the magic blasts sent his way in his efforts to protect you, getting his fists ready for some one hit KOs.
"You hurt Y/n. And for that, you better be ready to grit your teeth, you fucking bastards!"
Joker Snatch has Ace copying his opponents and even his dormmates' unique spells to dish back out at the jittery bunch of fools, with bitter enjoyment, choke full of utter spite.
"How cowardly do you gotta be, making our little rabbit your prey? How pathetic ... who's the one being hunted now?!"
Neutralizing the threat with optimal precision on his quick casting of all elemental spells, utilizing his unique spell with such fueled up rage, had heads literally roll on the maze grounds.
"You dare lay your hands on our precious rose?! Such uncouth uninviting conduct deserves the worst verdict. The sentence? OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
Cuts, bruises, and red littered the now unconscious bodies on the ground as their garden got tarnished in the process. Your lovers still trembled from the rage they just unleashed. While committing full-on manslaughter wasn't off the table, their restraint stood firm.
Riddle overlooked their violation of the rules of fighting in school for their own personal gain this time around due to your safety in all this. If they were gonna commit such a heinous act, they wouldn't dare let you witness it and be traumatized even further. At this point, discipline was served.
It's kind of a daze for you over what followed after. Coach Vargas dragged the naysayers away to one of their infirmary rooms with help from Sam. Professor Trein and Crewel listened to the guys' claims that they were acting in self defense of you and their dorm. Your unsettled injured self was proof enough.
Ace and Deuce took you to the other infirmary room; this college was big enough for two, watching you be tended to gently by the healing mage stationed there, giving you reassuring hand squeezes and hugs to comfort you after that terrifying experience.
Reuniting with the others after you get released from the nurse, Cater's suggestion for a pajama party has you all crashing in his bedroom. Riddle's hopes of cheering you up has him willingly going along with this course of action.
The floor drowns in endless blankets, sheets, pillows, and plushies. Seeing them each in their own distinctive sleepwear makes you turn to mush. Trey supplies the snacks. Ace brings on the card games. Cater streams movies. Deuce and Riddle give you the most cuddles. You sleep and awake in entangled limbs, comforted by their soft breathing and warmth.
The injured students were disbanded from the school in the following days on grounds of expulsion for their misconduct. Riddle was quite persistent and Crowley did not want to deal with any more headaches.
The idea of celebrating over such a thing seemed bonkers. But be served Marron tarts, milk tea with honey, lemonade without the honey, painted red roses, pink flamingos, cute hedgehogs, with you clad in their traditional dorm colors in fine flowing attire, how could you refuse?
The idea of taking you to the Queendom of Roses during college break formed in their heads like a hive mind. Seemed like the best idea for a vacation trip together. Watching you back to your bright giddy self frolicking and twirling in their restored rose garden, dancing with steps mixed up with bluff, it made their hearts soar.
Ending the night with them shedding off your pretty clothes in place of draping you in RED ribbons. And only that. Your wrists, ankles, every inch of you, wrapped up like the perfect present for five loving, doting mages.
Ten wandering possessive hands. Five heated dicks filling your mouth, in between your ass cheeks, rubbing all over your sensitive spots. Your supple sweet self, letting out such soft moans and mewls, had them all busting their nuts.
From then on, they make sure at least one of them is with you. On the way to classes. Outside of classes. Out in town.
And any who dares leave a hand on you again, let alone harms you again, the Queen's fiery rage will consume their flesh, bones, and souls.
With his dedicated loyal card soldiers at his side, all willing to make their knuckles BLEED and burn their magic dry, only for you.
Should you have had any hopes or desires of ever returning to your own world, they're dashed now. They're not planning on letting you out of their twisted thorny reach.
But if you choose to stay, if you have no intentions of ever going back there, if you truly wish to stay with them… even knowing their true emotions, their TRUE COLORS …
How could they ever refuse you?
The triumphant looks on their faces as you gave them the answer you all wished for, them flushing as you stick out your tongue behind a smile at them, your shared true nature seeping out like RED paint dye.
Their unshakable world where everything is as you wish, so long as you obey their rules in turn.
As the lined up cards wait to do as the voice commands — as you command alongside Riddle — all is right in your little shared world.
Stranger: And, despite that, you still refuse to grab a drink with me?
[Mime Darling nods, clapping their hands and giving the stranger a thumbs up now that everything's been cleared up and they can continue on their merry way-]
Stranger: Well, if there's nobody waiting for you at home- What's stopping you from sparing a few minutes? A stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet- Isn't entertaining people your whole job?
Mime Darling: O_o
[As the Mime leaps out of way, the stranger's elbow bumps into something as they yank their arm back - several large, colorful silhouette appear behind them. The mime begins to sign something to the group - red gloved hands sprouting from the shadows and tenderly squeezing their palms under the trimmers in their fingers still long enough for them to continue.]
Stranger: W-what are they saying?
Red Murder Clown: "I don't have a partner. I have six.... And a boyfriend.. Sometimes."
Mime Darling, adding on: I forgot to ask earlier. What are you feeling today, Orange? :)
Orange Murder Clown: Right now, I'm feeling that our friend here is gonna head home tonight with a lot less teeth than when they left this morning.
Imagine getting isekai’d into your latest hyperfixation: an otome game filled with charming characters going gaga for the player. Constant love triangles and a touch of magic, you’re leaping to finally enact some of the scenes you’ve spent hours replaying. Oh but who can forget! You’re not exactly alone.
“Ew what is this place? Why is it so sparkly.”
“This is the game I told you about! The one with all my new crushes!”
“Great. I’m just glad we didn’t get hit by a truck to get here.”
Your dear friend is along for the ride and you feel like this is just perfect! All that time you’ve spent raving over the different routes and your favorite moments; they’re familiar enough with the world. Still they let you lead getting all the way to the climax of the tutorial where all the candidates make an appearance.
“We’ll be in the same study group. What’s your name again?”
You open your mouth. Prepared to embrace the introduction with the illusive Ice Prince himself you’ve dreamt about. But your voice is giving out and the pumping in your chest overwhelms you and when those golden eyes squint at you in rising scorn. There’s no way you can speak now.
“Uh they’re (Y/n) and I’m Emy. Nice to meet ya!”
Their easy nonchalant introduction is the start of an adventure and the end of your dream. Their persistent uncaring attitude towards events or the array of colorful personality traits in the battlier doesn’t phase a practiced extrovert such as they. Casually resembling the answers programmed for players to say and deviating at the perfect times. All so easily the whole lot of the love interests are so obviously head over heels for her in no time.
Leaving you behind.
Competitions meant to improve teamwork are lead by Emy. Study topics are chosen by Emy. Hang out spaces are where Emy decides. What challenges the group takes on are ordained because Emy wants to. Sparring sessions are always with Emy.
Everything begins to be centered around Emy.
“Emy…you’re amazing.”
“You’ll be my greatest rival yet, Emy!”
“Chu chu Marry me Emy! I’m just kidding…unless?”
“I’ve never met anyone like you Emy!”
While you can’t bring yourself to hate Emy because at the end of the day it makes you happy that Emy is happy. It still hurts. It still makes your chest heavy when the group is already headed to the sparring arena without you. It still makes you eyes water when there’s no space at the lunch table for you. It still hurts when you’ll hear about something monumental that Emy did from someone else who’s spouting some legendary feat.
It hurts that your bias, hears your name and still asks who.
And it still hurts when the friendliest of the group, asks that you switch seats so that they can be closer to her.
And it burns more than anything to not be able to talk to your friend like you used to.
“Hey Emy I was wondering–”
“Sorry I’m just so wiped out from the honors awards can we talk later.”
_____
“Emy did you understand the lesson?”
“Haha uhh sorry what did you say (Y/n)?”
“I was asking–”
“Haha okay your crazy. Uh ask the teacher or something I have to go!”
_______
“Emy…do you ever think about going home?”
“Hmmm no.”
“Really? Like never?”
“Nope I love it here.”
“Ah okay…”
It’s an interesting problem. Should you let yourself be consumed with guilt when you begin to wish you were in Emy’s place? Is it main-character syndrome if you clearly never were? Is it bad that you want to go home now that you know this is nothing like the game you used to play? It all culminates into a new goal.
One for you to return home.
So instead of walking alone at the back of the group; you confine yourself to the library or the study with one purpose. Nose deep in books and scrolls you desperately search for a lead. Some way that you can return back to the world you know. Back to where you weren’t just a side character fading in the background.
“Oi rainy parade! What are you doing?”
This interruption was brought by the low-tier villain. Temple was an adversary to the mc during the first competitions. Beaten easily and humiliated they fade into obscurity before leaving for good. But for whatever reason they’re standing above you, waiting for you to answer. Swallowing an exhausted sigh you try to brush them off; ignoring bullies was the best way to get them to go away.
“Reading.”
“Yeah but what are you reading?”
“Just research…do you need something?”
“Yeah, join our group!”
Its then you’re acutely aware of who’s walking up behind him, stomach sinking when you realize precisely who they are. All of them are minor to major villains within the otome game with varying degrees of just beating mc to encapsulating the world in dark magic. So you weren’t exactly thrilled to see them all on board with you, specifically.
“Look if this is about revenge against Emy I’m not interested.”
“Revenge on who, now?” It was Starle, a known glutton that acted as the apathetic competitor. Currently crunching on some crackers, you tried to recall if that arc had even occurred yet. Coming up with blanks because you were so out of the loop when it came to Emy now…
Temple sighs and sits on the desk in front of you, forcing you to put the book down.
“Look if you’re talking about Emy I’m so over that I’m onto bigger things.”
“Like what kind?”
“The kind that can help you make a portal.”
Its Ryder Winsor, the aforementioned high-tier villain who’s well on their way to planning world domination by now. Only seeing him in passing you’re not only blown away by that outlandish statement but by the suaveness that the mc is built to fall prey to on a few occasions. Their smiles don’t assure you but your certain if anyone can beat them in the end it will be Emy…so in the meantime why not take advantage?
“Okay but anything too violent is completely off the table.”
“Deal. Welcome to our group (Y/n) we’re all so incredibly happy that you’re here.”
For once in a long time that doesn’t turn out to be a lie because now the time you’d quietly spend off to the side is filled with banter or one-sided ranting. Lunches spent alone are filled with very serious taste-testing of different snacks. Study sessions are now becoming unproductive because of all the time you spend laughing. Nights you spend lying awake waiting for the sun to come up are spent chatting about the mundane and the grandiose.
This what a real team feels like. What real friends are like. You almost forgot.
When you do remember to look over at the beaming Emy, you’re happy to say that nothing sparks guilt or envy. You’re happy too now and that’s enough for you.
What isn’t enough for Emy is when they’re caught off guard by one of their teacher’s praises, “Congratulations on getting that member out of your group! I think without them the power dynamics will finally even out.”
Whoa whoa a member left the group?!
Emy does a headcount at lunch, finding all the familiar smiling faces except for one. They shook their head as punishment for forgetting. (Y/n) had started sitting away from the group because it was so overcrowded at their favorite table….right? Is it bad that Emy can’t remember that conversation? So they scan the cafeteria looking over the students who admirably stared back at them to one of the few who weren’t. Lunches in one hand and arms linked with someone else that dastardly mean boy from the first magic competition—Temple. They remember that night you going over all the ins and outs of the world; so grateful back then that she had you on their team able to predict the exact sequence that they’d be attacked. Did they ever thank you for that? Either they look to see just who their chatting so animatedly with and it’s none other than you. Laughing almost loud enough over the din of the cafeteria, it dawns on Emy how it’s been awhile since they’ve seen it. Leaned on by another face you vaguely warned her about who does spare a glance in her direction before turning back to you. Maybe they’ll get your attention, since they have it so readily.
“Hey (Y/n)?! (Y/n)?!”
Calling out to you doesn’t work since you’re already out of the cafeteria on the way to wherever you’re going and the one that did see her doesn’t seem interested in passing along her message. Emy doesn’t take it to heart finally answering the concerned members of her battlier, her friends about what was on her mind.
“Did you know (Y/n), left?”
“Who’s that—OW!”
“That’s the one that tags along with our group alot, right?”
“I was aware when the teacher gave me their final resignation to sign, why?”
Emy’s face heats uncontrollably, how did they miss this? Shaking it off they move on, settling their nerves with the fact that they’ll catch you later. After all a change in party doesn’t mean a change in class.
“Oh no (Y/n) transferred out of this class a week ago. They moved up to advanced ancient magics to match their battlier. Why, would you like to go there as well?”
“N-n-no I’m just checking. Thank you, Professor.”
They shake it off again, they are dormmates so Emy has nothing to worry about. Granted in the past they’re usually so tired, they can manage to stay up to have this conversation. Tonight she’ll get to the bottom of your sudden absence.
She waits diligently, constantly looking to the door and perking up when others footsteps pass by the door. Eventually with coursework done and the moon high in the sky they pace as they wait for you to come. Finally the lock to the door jiggles and behind it unfamiliar laughter…wait who is that?+
The door opens to reveal you and behind you the Scorpion twins. Another pair of handsome faces you warned her against and at one point raved about your mixed feelings about them. Why were the casually poking at you and then grabbing your stuff and leaving? Wait a minute your side of the room is incredibly barren when did that happen?
“Uh hi I didn’t know you were having friends over…”
“Oh we’re not staying we just came to get the last of their stuff!”
“Yup because someone apparently doesn’t like being bed buddies with me anymore!”
“I never said that! I just miss my bed and it beats going back and forth.”
“Y’know I really think you should’ve taken Winsor’s advice and just bought all this stuff again.”
“Don’t cry about it they’re just sentimental keepsakes, not because of any other reason.”
Emy doesn’t miss the grey eyed glare they both give her.
“(Y/n) can I talk to you…alone?”
You huff clearly annoyed, “I’d rather not, besides they’re going in and out of the room anyway. Just say what you want to say.”
Emy resists the urge to roll their eyes at your difficulty but still they confront you. Ask about why you left and what you’re doing hanging out with those guys—the villains you warned her about. You surprise her with a broken look on your face, “You really don’t know?”
Emy can do nothing but shrug as she tries to rack her brain for some reason. Finding none she expectantly waits for you to tell her. Just like back then. You refuse to do this again.
“You know what…they’re my friends and they’re helping me out with something important to me.”
“Wait what’s important to you?”
“....Goodbye Emy, Rogue I’m ready to go. For good.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice we finished ages ago.”
When Emy stares at your back and then the shutting of the door then to the empty side of the room, she feels as though a new hole has been made. She figures that's just in this moment when she doesn’t have anyone else shuffling in the room tonight. That it’s just in the moment when she’s in sparring and she can’t help but take more hits then necessary without you on her back. That’s its just in the moment that she’s overcome with disgust when you’re up on the podium with the Winsor’s crest on your newly fitted uniform. That’s just a coincidence that as she watches you hug the members of the team before giving a speech that she’s overcome with a hatred for the smug teammates of yours.
Who is she kidding?
Emy hates this.
That somehow you’d find comfort in the very people who were shaping up to be her worst enemies yet. That you looked happy getting your personal bubble invaded by these overly touchy villains. That you no longer looked in her direction when you passed in the halls.
She was just so angry. At you? At herself? At them?
Even her own team had begun to notice. Asking why she hadn’t dodged something so simple or why she’d been blankly staring at the door of the study room while they tried to talk. Trying to follow her gaze when she slowed in the hall.
“Emy….did they do something to you we don’t know about.”
“What about that one? Their new member…WAIT isn’t that our old–”
“So it’s them. What did they do to you Emy you can tell us.”
She struggles with what to say. Looking in the eyes of the future heroes and leaders of this world. Their magic and beauty palpitating endlessly at her beck and call. What dare she say to them? That she failed you? That she neglected her best friend? That she took advantage of the one person who knew what this world was all about? “That (Y/n) is being deceived by Winsor’s battlier? And if we don’t intercept soon they’re going to be in bigger trouble than ever!”
Of course seeing their hero love of their life so passionate about something and having been right so many times before all they can do is rally behind. Beginning their plan of attack so that Emy can make amends save their friend who’s been led astray. Hopefully before its too late.
On the complete opposite side of the spectrum Winsor’s Battlier is more than enjoying their new member. Of course they figured as much after spending just as much time watching you before taking initiative in action. In truth after Temple’s defeat they all felt the need to monitor the group with the most potential. Analyzing each of their members with the upmost scrutiny all so that, they’d be prepared should they ever have to cross them again. But someone stood out in that group. More than the royalty….more than their dark mage…more than the shining star that had the whole school eating out the palm of her hand.
You.
“Report everyone.”
“I witnessed that (Y/n)-fellow categorize and list the abilities of all their competitors.”
“I saw (Y/n) switch out that gift to the prince for something else.”
“(Y/n) was the one who solved the answer for the quiz the very day it was coming…it was 100 pages.”
“I saw (Y/n) kiss the University’s Dragon.”
“...”
“...”
“...what?”
It was clear to your newly avid stalkers that you were what gave the team such an easy start. Hearing you remind Emy about the likes and dislikes of your team-members. Subtly hinting at the right answers during team events. Solving all the quizzes and tests meant to stump even the well educated. All to walk behind the group who barely remembers you exist.
Even Starle felt bad watching you be ignored and pushed aside. That doesn’t immediately spark their desire to have you in their group, in fact more than happy that the team’s greatest asset just wasn’t realized. Allowing the twins to provide fairly decent obstacles that had Emy discredit you on more than one occasion. Feeling as though they maintained the silent upper hand over Emy’s team, they felt that their job to take down the group was done. Now they're stalking just for ‘fun’ at this point; chatting over study group about what injustice (Y/n) has gone through today.’
But Ryder wasn’t done. Rarely has he ever witnessed or read about a prophetic ability so inconsistent, yet terribly precise. So while the others are used to standing over roofs or abandoned attics to watch, Ryder goes a step further. Crafting a magical spy glass that he uses to watch your private activities. One of these activities meant transcribing all that you know about the villains to come. Imagine his surprise when, he reads that his failure will be at the hands of Emy all because she discovers an ancient magic technique to counter his magic. A tiny voice in his head suggests he permanently shut you up…find some way to silent your all-knowing machinations to a team bound to collapse on itself. But when he invokes invisibility raises his hand to hex you for good; hearing your sobs under the covers the magic naturally flickers away. A new spell dancing along his fingertips that put you into a deep sleep. When he stands above you with the covers pulled back he can’t help but laugh to himself in disbelief. Who was he kidding? To believe he hadn’t just wanted to get know more of you from the start, making up some excuse about your good advice so that his team would be none the wiser. All for them to fall for exactly what captivated him from the start.
“So boss, do we get to have them?”
“Patience Starle dream magic doesn’t change a mind in one night.”
“In the meantime do we get to work on the other plan?”
“The world dominating one?”
“...Once our final member joins we can put everything into full swing.”
“That Emy-chic will be the first to go, right?”
“Correct. Because a coward such as they has no place in our new world.”
