Imagining a desperate yandere who just can’t keep his hands off you….
Tags: yandere x reader, fingering, soft, gentle, dumbification, noncon, gn neutral reader, afab reader
He's plunging his thick fingers deep into your cunt, achingly slow. Other hand holding your face against his heart while you lay your back on his naked chest. His breath shaky as he watches his digits disappear past your folds, your juices forming a puddle beneath you.
The soft touches leaving you weak and shaky, unable to exert any more energy than a feeble push at his arm, nothing compared to the layers of muscle lining his body. Feeling the slow pumping, in, out, in, out - infinite and soooo fucking slow. Whining as drool slips down the corner of your mouth.
He cradles your face with his unoccupied hand, eyes drowning in your own. He leans in and messily licks up your spit, tongue flat against your face as his heavy breath hits your feverish flesh. You can’t even shake your head ‘no’ as he slobbers all over your cheek, his palm keeping you firm in place. Keeping you there for hours. Lazily fingering you until your brain melts out your pussy.
First like actual post on this account holy shit 😓
Yandere!Fae used to swear up and down that for the rest of his nearly immortal life he would remain free. Wandering through the fae realm without a lick of responsibility weighing him down. Despite the fact that the fae cannot lie, those around him did not believe him. For loneliness was a heavy burden to bear.
Yandere!Fae was not deterred by their disbelief in him. For he was determined to prove them wrong. Then one early morning he stumbles upon you…
Yandere!Fae was out to get his usual morning dew from his favorite spot when he happens upon you there instead, foolishly sitting right in the middle of a fairy circle. Tiny mushrooms surround you and a small tasty picnic you have laid out beside you. Something about your innocence was undeniably charming. He who has lived so long and experienced so much. There was a certain kind of peace sitting here in this moment with you.
Yandere!Fae watches you curiously as you happily munch on your fruits and desserts. Not a care in the world that you have ensured your doom by being here. He listens patiently in the trees as you chat casually with nature. He finds himself growing absolutely mesmerized by you. Your soothing voice luring him in as if caught in your web instead of the other way around.
Yandere!Fae who never wanted a mate but with you just falling into his lap like this he can’t deny you now. He figures that it must be fate. The Gods clearly wanting him to have you. He cannot deny them and watching you as the hours pass, he realizes he does not want to.
Yandere!Fae is simply overcome with the need to have you. The desire to anchor you to him so that he may have you all for himself— just as the Gods intended— tugs at him like a flower sprouting up from the ground. He must have you. The barrier between you and your worlds one he must be rid of immediately.
Yandere!Fae appears before you, peaking through the veil. Your little yelp of surprise far too cute for his poor heart to handle. He greets you with a sly, “Hello there, darling.” Yet something about it warms you to the bone as much as it settles your nerves on edge.
Yandere!Fae’s eyes gleam as they flicker between you and the feast of snacks before you. He’s watched as you’ve slowly begun losing interest in them, leaving you to only pick and nibble at the foods before you. Sharing more and more with the forest creatures that edge the fairy circle.
Yandere!Fae leans in closer, tingles shooting down his spine as suck in a harsh breath. Your cheeks flushing pink, as affected by his presence as he has been yours. Your own beauty far outmatching his, he’s sure. “You seem to have grown tired of your treats. Would you like to try one of mine instead?” He asks, a wicked edge to his smirk as he pulls out a handful of vibrantly colored berries.
Yandere!Fae who offers you food in hope of not just putting you in his debt but who aims to take everything.
Yandere!Fae watches as you stare down at the berries in awe. Already knowing what your answer will be before you’ve even come to the conclusion yourself. He doesn’t bother to hide the darkness of his gaze as your own jumps between him and the food before you. “Is it true what they say about accepting food from the fae?” You ask so deliciously timid. He has to fight off a shudder just at the tone of your voice. Oh how he whats to listen to it forever.
Yandere!Fae pauses as he registers your question. He rolls his tongue over his teeth as he internally curses at his inability to lie. But he doesn’t let you catch onto a thing. Instead, flashing you a teasing grin, and subconsciously leans even closer. Craving more of your presence the longer he’s with you. “Why not find out for yourself?” He answers, skillfully avoiding the question.
Yandere!Fae who quite literally feels his and your souls click into place the moment you swallow the fairy food. Your lives bound together as you become indebted to him. A slight haze glazes over your eyes and his smirk widens. His hand reaches out, cupping your cheek with all the tenderness he possesses. “Do you feel that, mate? Do you feel yourself becoming mine?”
Yandere!Fae won’t stop at merely taking you into the fae realm with him. Now that he’s tasted a part of your soul, that he’s felt it fit perfectly with his own, he wants it all. He won’t rest until he owns every single piece of you. So that he may break you down bit by bit and mold you, reshape you, into the best you can be. His perfect mate. Just as you were always meant to be. For why else would you have been exactly at his favorite spot? Almost as if you must’ve been waiting for him.
Summary—> making friends with a mermaid wasn’t on your bucket list neither was getting kidnapped by said mermaid. You really should’ve never went to the beach…
You honestly didn’t expect much when you arrived at the beach today.
The sun projecting its rays onto your already warm skin and the feeling of sand on your feet was enough to make you relax.
It had already been a stressful week before hand, Customer service is no joke but it keeps the bills paid so what can you do?
All you can enjoy is the little time you are granted here until life whisks you away.
You lay down your towel, buzzing with excitement on the prospect of finally getting to relax. But first you wanted to indulge in more of what this beach has to offer!
You set your bag down making sure to place your towel and umbrella with it for when you get back.
With that you make your way along the shoreline of the beach. The waves gently kissing the soles of your feet, feeling almost ticklish.
The peaceful sound of the waves hitting the shore and the squawking of seagulls lulls you into a sense of peace
And peace is a scarce thing for someone like you.
So you let this moment sink in, wanting to enjoy it until you’re forced to leave this everlasting paradise you've made your own.
The sun starts to lower over the horizon casting the sky in a multitude of reds and oranges.
You almost forgot what it was like to enjoy a sunset.
The air brushes past your hair in a comforting manner meant to soothe you.
The smell of faint sea water and petrichor is the only thing that calms you in moments like these.
Moments where you get to be yourself, to let the stress of life float away. To let your consciousness drift along the vast sea, succumbing to the water hoping to never return.
You hum a faint tune under your breath, sand sticking to your skin as you continue to transverse along the shore line.
just then you start to hear a faint melody humming along with you intertwining with your own song, like two waves crossing paths not knowing if to join or go on their way.
You stop in you tracks, the distant humming stopping immediately with you. You faintly look over towards the distant rocks huddled near the shore. Waves crashing onto them trying but failing to push them over.
Then the faint glimpse of blue catches your attention. Not ocean blue, but light blue almost white like the sky has taken human form.
You whip your head towards the rocks but nothing..not traces of any human or animal present.
Just a rock, like it was all simply in your head. God maybe you are more exhausted than you thought.
So with that you decide to trech back towards your belongings, completely erasing the scene from your mind.
God you really need a drink…
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
It was a few weeks later when you finally came back to the beech.
Sweat sticking to your skin as you transverse through the sand. Bag in hand umbrella promptly in the other. You set the items down with a faint thump. Groaning in exhaustion.
These past few weeks have been kicking your ass, literally and metaphorically.
Boss getting on your ass for things that weren't even your fault, having to work overtime and customers constantly complaining about you or their dreadful lives.
Yeah it definitely was exhausting, so coming back here was exactly what you needed. A nice break away from people and the troubles of civilization.
If you could, you’d practically live on the beach. Maybe buy a nice condo near one. When you get the money that is..
But you could dream, dreaming has only gotten you so far in this world.
You pull out a white towel from your bag and place it on top of the sand. Then you adjust the umbrella so atleast your provided some form of shade.
Instead of coming near sunset you decided mid day would be more relaxing, granting you more time to yourself.
That’s why you Meticulously picked a more secluded part of the beach. To tired to deal with the noise and chaos of people.
The squaking of seagulls and the sound of waves crashing forward are the only things you’d be willing to hear as you gather your bearings.
Laying down on the cotton towel you let out a sigh of relief. Closing your eyes in exhaustion to tired to notice someone watching you from over the rocks.
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
Madalyn didn’t know what to think at first when she caught sight of a human trekking towards her side of the beach.
It was months ago when she first spotted you, usually she uses this area to sightsee the lives of humans.
Having grown bored of the sights that are plunged deep into the sea. Humans have always been a mystery to her, their strange behaviors and mannerisms will always fascinate her.
Like baby seals interacting with each other it was infuriatingly adorable.
So she observes and learns, the more she learns the more fascinated she becomes. The human language was so different from hers!! and their mannerisms were almost alien completely lacking any animosity or caution.
and now she has a new human to watch! oh how exciting it's enough to get her blood pumping!!
what other strange information could this human provide her endless curiosity?
with gleaming eyes she watches with fascination as you start to set up strange items around you what she now knows as an umbrella and towel.
It was interesting to see you immediately relax under the suns gaze, Basking in it even.
She doesn’t get to feel the sun much one of the many disadvantages of being underwater.
So seeing someone so openly bask in it like it's second nature is phenomenal.
usually humans only wander here for a short period of time so seeing someone finally stay longer than a minute is enough for her to want to approach you.
oh but she can't! she might scare you away!
humans are skittish creatures after all she wouldn't want to plunder her opportunity to finally learn more about the lives above water.
so she waits, weeks go by as she routinely waits for you at the edge of the rocks far away from view.
Watching and waiting until the time is right to approach.
she takes note on how you come back occasionally every 3 days to relax against the rugged sand tiredness always embedded into you.
what could be making you so fatigued? she wonders worry etching into her gaze as she continues to examine you, if she had to assume you still seem to be a mere pup!
but she has to take into consideration that humans do have short lifespans compared to mer people....
so all she can do is watch and wait, if she had to admit it she enjoys watching you go about your day, the way you build structures in the sand occasionally is absolutely adorable! she had to suppress her squel to avoid being caught.
oh how she longs to finally interact with you, to hear the sweet sound of your voice up close, to finally examine the features she has admired from afar.
and maybe that day comes sooner than later....
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
the sound of a faint whimper catches your ear as you sit up from the cloth you were accompanying. your eyes scanning the vast shore until finally spotting a figure coated in what presumes to be a net?
could it be an animal that had the unfortunate luck of being stuck in what presumes to be a fisherman's net? that's the most likely possibility. so you pick yourself up, dust the sand the clinged to your legs and silently trek forward.
upon coming closer you realize it's not an animal but more presumably a human. you rush forward almost toppling to the ground in the process. hands starting to shake at the prospect of them being hurt or worse.
as your finally faced to faced with them you take note of her otherworldly features. her long sky blue hair cascading around her rather bare body.
Her heterochromia eyes glitecining with tears and pale skin shimmering against the rays of the sun.
but the patterns coating her face down to her neck catches your eyes the most. not wanting to dwell on it any further you take slow hesitant steps to her.
alerting her in the process she stares at you with wonder, like coming into contact with another human being was such a rare occurrence to her.
It ignites a sense of pity, how long has she been stuck here? more importantly where did she come from?
"hey...do you need help?"
you hesitantly speak afraid of frightening the poor girl, but all she does is stares up at you as if confused.
You approach her albeit slowly and surprisingly she seems to allow it. still staring at you with her hauntingly beautiful eyes, her youngful features prominet if you wouldn't have known any better you would've mistaken her for a model.
before you know it you've untangled her from the net, cuts present on her bare skin from it you finally look at what you would thought were human legs but a fish tail encompanies your sight.
its strikengly blue color prominet almost matching the color gracing her hair.
it was unnatural how something so beautiful look so unnatural, scales reflecting off of the suns rays as pearls and other various jewels decorate the lower half of it.
it was breathtaking, the words dying in your throat as you look towards her finally taking in her full features. her doe eyes sparkle with wonder, lips parting like she wants to say something but she can't.
“Y-You have a..T-Tail..?”
Your left breathless figuratively and literally. She seems to catch on to your hesitation at the mention of her fin tail. Webded fingers gripping your hands.
Does she….understand you?
Your left suprised yet amazed at the prospect of her actually understanding you. this is one of the few many surprises you've been victim to today.
eventually you are able to convince her to get in the water not before reluctantly accepting what you would've assumed as a thank you gift.
with the way she acts she resembles more of a lost puppy than anything. its enough to make you let your guard down around her.
you watch as the water ripples from where she once stood, examining the pearly white necklace that seems to reflect the light of the ever growing sunset.
guess it's time to head back then.....
you still can't help but feel that all of this was a fever dream, your brain refusing to accept the prospect of mermaid's exsiting. a more childlike part of you had to repress a happy squeal at the thought of finally seeing a mermaid.
but this is reality, and mermaid's aren't supposed to exist....Right?
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
Reluctantly you return the next few days in hopes that the woman (mermaid?) would return. curiosity consuming you as you observe the waves crashing towards the shore. slightly hoping she will return but if you were her you would never want to take a single step on land again and you don't blame her.
the sound of a distant click like a dolphin calling out to it's pod members catches your attention, you lift your gaze up to the rock where the woman from yesterday is lougining on. a soft smile coating her features as she eagerly waves at you.
and you can't help but wave back, her happiness rather infectious. you tretch forward dipping your feet into the water as you sigh in contempt from the coolness.
she tilts her head curiously as you can't help but hold back a laugh, something she seems to mimic.
eventually you both fall into a comftorble silence just enjoying each others presence without needing to exchange any pleastentries.
yeah you could get used to this...
not noticing the dark gleam in the mermaid eyes.
it's been months now since your first meeting with the mermaid you now know as madalyn. having taught her some bits of the human language.
enough for her to form proper sentences, in exchange she taught you some of her home land language. you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride of the fact that she trusts you so much.
as the days trek on it seems you only grow closer and closer with the blue haired woman, advancing down towards the beach every day to see her. and without fail she would show up always with some sort of gift in hand and a cheeky smile gracing her features.
you reluctantly accept but not without bringing something in return, be it little trinkets you collect or sometimes books you read with her.
but you can't help but notice the gifts she gives you seem more on the childish side. not that your complaining though! you're grateful either way for her sentiment.
your feet make a little plap sound as you descend the steps of the stairs, towards the beach. waving towards the vendors who have set up shop near the far side of the shore. it's become routine now at this point.
what you would've expected to see was Madelyn egarly waving towards you with a bright grin on her face, yet for some reason her presence doesn't seem to be gracing the rocks. worry starts to etched itself into your being as you look around at the vast waves counting to trek forward.
weird...she's never late...
Did...did something happen to her?
no...no you don't even want to entertain that idea...
...but..what if something did...?
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
it's been a week since you've last seen madalyn and to say you were worried was an understatement.
so when you find her happily pertched up on the rock waving at you, you immediately knew something was wrong. dread pooling in your gut almost suffocating you. yet the worry you feel for her overrides that.
you rush frantically over to her, brows furrowing in disbelief at the prospect that she was alive and seemingly well. yet anger seems to well in your being, you know you have no right to be angry.
hell you barley even know her, yet you couldn't help but unwillingly form a deep bond with the mermaid one that neither of you would admit.
"A-Are....you okay?"
you frantically sputter out, scanning her over for any injuries yet none were present.
"Yes, Madelyn okay!"
you hesitate before finally uttering your next words.
"Where....where have you been?"
her eyes widen in supirse clearly not expecting the question but then slightly soften as she pads the space next to. you oblige plopping down onto the rock as you face her head to head.
"madalyn was busy with something personal....madalyn's sorry for scaring pup..."
did she just call you a pup?!
you don't have much time to mull over it when she embraces you in a tight encasing bear hug. you gasp suprisied at the level of strength the mermaid possessed.
she eventually albeit reluctantly let you go, eyes sparkling with barley contained guilt and glee? no that can't be right...
"it's alright....I was just worried is all...."
you murmur, pulling your legs against your chest to avoid the oncoming waves crashing against the rock. you both fall into a comftarble silence, eventually you learn against her the visible wetness coating her body rubs against your cheek.
you can't help but appreaciate how cool she feels, a simple relief from the constant hot summer gaze that plague's your tiny apartment. not having the money nor resources to afford air conditining you've been putting up with the heat for the last few days.
your eye lids start to dip close and that's when you hear it, singing coming from madalyn a soft soothing melody that puts you at ease and melts your mind like butter.
you let out a soft sigh eyes closing in defeat yet mind not fully dark, body finally letting going of the tension you've been holding in relentlessly.
and finally your mind goes dark
and the only thing you can think of is how cool you feel.
eventually the song stops, madalyn gazes over at your now sleeping form. a soft smile gracing her features yet her eyes tell another story.
she lifts you up with relative ease and plunges you into the depths of the dark ocean water. making sure to keep towards the surface level. not wanting you to drown on her.
Summary: Edmund’s secretary has demanded Edmund takes a vacation after countless mood swings. The only problem is that to get to the resort, he has to fly in an airplane similar to the one that killed his parents.
Warnings: fear of flying (could count as trauma I think), Edmund’s in a bad mood, possessiveness,
Word count: 2.3k
A/N: happy birthday to little old me! I wanted to share modern Edmund for the very first time for my birthday! I hope you’ll like him!
He’s been in a bad mood ever since he woke up. His secretary has prescribed him a week of vacation after his last outburst. Only problem? He has to fly. Taking the royal yacht would take too long time and as king he does not have that. Edmund should be lucky he got a week for himself—and you, of course.
”Eddie?” you say quietly. ”What are you thinking about?”
If he admits that his head is filled with the news of his parents death that occurred on an aircraft not too different from the private plane in front of him, you might worry too … and god, he can’t be the reason you’re scared.
”Nothing”, he answers quickly, a bit too biting to be nice.
”Oh, okay.”
He opens his mouth to tell you that he isn’t mad at you, that you’re the last person he’d be mad at right now, but one of the pilots comes over. Damn him.
“Your majesty, there’s a second plane coming in a few minutes, I was to ask if the queen would go with that one?” he asks.
Edmund’s eyes sharpen. “No? Why the fuck would she do that?”
“It’s protocol that two possible reigns shouldn’t ride together, in case of an accident. Since you have no heir or—forgive me for saying this—immediate family, her majesty becomes the next in line.”
“My cousin then?”
He shouldn’t have suggested that. He’d never want her to carry the burden of the crown. Besides, she’s too immersed in studies and her own lover to ever want to be queen.
“Miss Carter isn’t mentioned”, the pilot says, thankfully. “I have gotten the message from your secretary. This is all I know.”
“Well, we are not traveling separately. You are supposed to keep us safe. If you feel like you are too stupid to fly this airplane correctly then—“
“Edmund.”
Your voice brings him back to reality. He runs a hand through his dark hair.
“No, of course it is safe, your majesty”, the pilot says quickly. “Sorry, of course the two of you can travel together.”
“Thank you, finally. Come, Y/N.”
Edmund grabs a hold of your wrist and pulls you. You only manage to mumble an apology to the pilot before you’re out of ear shot.
“Edmund”, you hiss as you walk up the stairs to the plane. “People saw that! They heard it!”
“I don’t care”, he hisses back.
“The media will write about it. They’ll paint you in a bad light again.”
He scoffs and the door closes behind you, leaving both of you alone in the cabin of the private jet.
“The media?” Edmund repeats. “They loved spinning on the topic of my parents' death after their crash. Loved to write how pitied I was and how everyone felt bad for me. Now that I don’t like traveling by plane, they’ll make me sound like some sort of super villain?”
“No, Edmund …”
You follow him with your eyes as he makes his way over to one of the seats. His jaw is tense in that way that makes you scared it’ll pop and fall off.
“Have you taken anything?” you ask. “Anything to calm you?”
“No”, he scoffs. “I don’t need that.”
“You do. It wouldn’t mean you’re weak.”
“Who said anything about weakness?” His voice gets louder. “My parents died in a plane crash, Y/N! Their death made me king! I thought I’d become king when I am fifty! I am twenty, Y/N. I couldn’t graduate high school because I had to lead a whole fucking country! One singular crash robbed me of everything I was meant to be and do! Despite that I am still here, doing everything every fucking person tells me to do. So tell me, what about this signal weakness?”
“No, Eddie, I didn’t mean that.”
The nickname seems to empty him off the air he just had. He breathes out long and rubs a hand over his face.
“I meant that there’s no shame in getting help”, you explain, slowly moving towards him.
“Yes, why do you think I want to travel with you?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t say I’m that much of a help.”
“Yes, you are. Sit down beside me. Please. I want to hold your hand.”
His bluntness catches you by surprise. Edmund’s normally a rollercoaster when it comes to emotions, but this is something entirely different. You can’t keep up.
You sit down next to him and his fingers find yours, intertwining them. The aircraft starts to rumble and move, and his grip immediately tightens. So do his eyes. He squeezes them shut.
His grip on your hand becomes even tighter, bordering on painful, when the plane speeds up. When the wheels eventually lift from the ground, his face turns down into your shoulder, his eye squeezed hard enough to see stars, and you’re sure you felt something in your hand pop. You aren’t even sure if he’s breathing.
The plane finally evens out as it gets high enough. Edmund doesn’t move.
”Are you okay?” you ask. ”We’re going flat now.”
”You sure?” he asks, not lifting his head or opening his eyes.
”Yeah.”
Only then he opens his eyes, very slowly.
”See?” you say softly. ”Everything’s fine.”
There’s something childish about him that makes your heart involuntarily clench.
He nods slowly and sits up, adjusting his position. He notices your hand and lets go in an instant.
“Oh, shit, sorry”, he breathes and rubs your hand, trying to smooth over the marks his fingers left. “Why didn’t you tell me how hard I held you?”
”I didn’t prioritize that”, you say.
Edmund lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses over the knuckles.
“You’re still shaking”, you say. ”You should drink some water.”
You are about to stand to get a glass for him, but he pulls you down again.
“No, Y/N, don’t”, he says. ”Stay with me.”
”The pitcher is just over there—”
”I don’t need water. Just sit down.”
You agree and sink back down onto the seat. His hands are trembling as they pull you closer.
“Just sit with me”, he says. “I just want to hold you until we land.”
He makes himself comfortable to be able to lay down with his head on your chest. His favorite place. The sound of your heartbeat always brings him back to reality, no matter how red his vision has gone. Reminds him that there are things still worth coming back to when he wants to let everything loose. If it weren’t for you, every newspaper in the world would talk about him.
Hours pass and when the plane is about to land, Edmund goes rigid again. He hides into your neck again, but his hands grip the arm rest instead, letting your poor hand be.
He chokes back a whimper as the wheels smash against the ground.
“Eddie, it’s okay”, you reassure him. “We are down.”
Hearing you say that, he lifts his head and rests it back against the headrest. His Adam’s apple bobs. His ice blue eyes hazy and unfocused.
He stumbles when he stands and you have to grab onto him. ”Oh, Ed, wait—”
”I’m fine”, he grits out.
”You’re going to faint. You’re shaking and you’re pale.”
He shakes his head. ”I just need fresh air. Come here, I’m going to lean on you.”
You let him wrap an arm around your shoulders as you lead him towards the exit. Warm air hits you in the face.
You call for one of the workers setting up the stairs to the door for help.
”Oh, your majesty, are you alright?” one of them asks and tries to take him from you.
Edmund’s dark brows immediately furrow and his grip on you hardens.
”Don’t touch me”, he hisses.
”They have to help you, Edmund, I can’t take you down the stairs safely”, you sigh.
”Either you help me alone or I walk down by myself. I might trip and die. Do you want to take that risk?”
”Can’t you let them help you? Just down the stairs?”
”It’s bad enough I have to shake hands at every fucking function I have to be at, I am not letting people I don’t fucking know carry me down a flight of stairs. Y/N, give me your hand.”
You sigh, give up, and take his hand. That seems to calm him down. Slowly, but not surely, he makes his way down to the ground. One hand gripping the railing, the other gripping yours.
A car is parked for you and you help him into the backseat. He slumps back against the seat. You run a hand through his black hair.
”You don’t always have to be so rude”, you murmur. ”Maybe if you were a bit nicer, people wouldn’t have bad things to tell the media.”
Edmund gives you a sharp look without moving his head. ”Do you think I enjoy peasants putting their greasy hands on me?”
”I was one once and you let me.”
His eyes widen at the realisation. In one swift motion, he sits straight and turns to you, taking your hands.
”No, not you”, he gulps. ”When I talk like that it never includes you. Never ever. You’re different. You’re royal now.”
You’re different. You don’t know why but you hate when he speaks about you like that, making you into some sort of animal at the zoo. Someone he had to save.
You know what he means, and that he’s terrible with words when he’s taken by surprise, so you brush it off.
”You could touch me however and I wouldn’t think anything of it”, he continues, digging a deeper hole for himself without realizing.
As if he needs to demonstrate it, he takes your hands and place them on his face, cupping his cheeks. His eyes flutter immediately. Not even demonstrating something could stop him from reacting to your touch. You smile.
It’s a bit pathetic, honestly.
His eyes flicker down to your lips.
The driver jumps into the car and you pull back, too embarrassed to be kissing—more precise ’making out’ because Edmund never stops at just one kiss—in the backseat of a car with a stranger watching. Edmund glares at the man for ruining his moment and grabs your hand again to play with your fingers.
During the drive you look outside the window, watching palm trees sway in the wind.
”Where even is this resort?” Edmund mumbles. ”I could really need to rest my back.”
”It’s not far”, the driver answers over his shoulder.
Before Edmund can spit ”I didn’t ask you” you point out the window.
”Look, the ocean! I want to swim.”
”We will, my jewel”, he answers softly, reaching over to look himself. ”I’ll take you.” He turns to the driver. ”Driver, will there be transportation for us? Can we move around freely?”
”If I’m not wrong there is a four wheeler.”
That alone makes Edmund light up. He looks at you with sparkling eyes.
You gulp. Oh no.
You’ve seen him drive cars. You’ve also seen him crash them and blame someone else.
The driver didn’t lie when it wouldn’t take long. Just thirty minutes later the car slows down and drives off onto a separate road, surrounded by greenery, until it stops in front of a pair of white gates. A white stone house can be seen behind bushes. Edmund sits straight. You can tell that maybe he is a bit interested, anyway.
To Edmund’s big disappointment, the house does not have staff. He has to carry in his bags by himself. This will be humorous, you think.
”Give your bags to me”, he says, holding out his last free finger.
”No, I can carry them”, you say.
”Y/N.”
”You’re already carrying three bags, you can’t carry more!”
”What kind of husband will I be if I don’t carry your bags too?”
”By that logic, shouldn’t you carry me as well?”
Edmund stops for a second, thinking. He seems to like that idea better, because he drops the bags in an instant and bends to swoop you up. He smirks at your yelp and walks inside, a proud look on his face. Like a dog who brings his favorite stick to his favorite human.
There’s a floral scent inside the house and you go on a hunt to find where it comes from. The backyard is filled with blooming greenery and flowers, surrounding a pool and an outer deck with a grill.
”Oh, it’s beautiful!” you gasp.
”Let’s have a barbecue here tonight after we’ve settled in”, Edmund says and grabs your arm. ”Come along, let’s find the bedroom.”
”Of course you want to find the bedroom.”
He gives you a cheeky look over his shoulder. ”And what’s that supposed to mean, huh?”
”Oh, nothing, just that you’re not the purest minded king in history.”
”Excuse me, my lady, but I do not need a bed for that, haven’t I already demonstrated that for you or do I need to give you a few more examples?”
Your eyes widen. If you could wipe that fucking smirk of his face, you’d do it in a heartbeat.
”In my eyes there are multiple suitable flat areas for—”
”Let’s go find that bedroom!” Edmund laughs behind you, following slowly. He feels his heart calm down as he watches you run before him. He knows that this sweetness won’t last forever. In a few days he’ll have to face the plane ride and go back to his life in a cage. Put the strings back on his arms and let himself be puppetteered. His throat goes cold, his chest squeezes and he has to place a hand over his heart. But for now, he’s going to enjoy the silence and the floral scent from the backyard and the little time in his life he doesn’t have eyes on him. And he’ll be doing all of that with you. Everything else is tomorrow’s problem.
𓊆西村 力 x fem reader𓊇 and what will you do? now you're all alone. who's gonna keep you warm out there in the cold? and who's gonna rescue you when you're lost at sea? and who's gonna love you if it isn't me?
⤫ 4763 ⤫ ― stalking, youtube documentary style, obsessive behaviour, intrusion, home breaking, violence, murder + implication, reader has financial issues, feel free to imagine whoever as the stalker, but riki was in my mind!
⊹ 𐙚⋆˙˚ iyk i wrote goshiwon last year and was so in love with the concept of stalking, reader in a financial crisis, stalker's last straw, and youtube documentary style that i just had to rewrite it!
고시원 — a small prison cell
“is it recording? are you recording right now?”
“yeah—right about… now.”
the slightly shaky camera lens unblurred, sharpening and focusing on jiwoo’s bright smile. she stood in a narrow, fluorescent–lit hallway right at the entrance of a building. behind her, through the open broken glass door, the evening sunset painted everything in deep orange and fading purple.
the background was a cramped side street—rundown pork restaurant with flickering neon signs, a 24–hour convenience store glowing white and green, and tangled electrical wires crisscrossing overhead.
jiwoo waved both hands at the camera, her energy high despite the humid summer air.
“hi everyone, welcome back to seoul life! i’m your jiwoo, and today we’re checking out something a lot of you have been curious about—the goshiwon life. we usually check out luxury high-rises and trendy officetels, but not everyone is able to have the privilege. these super cheap, tiny rooms are staple for students and young workers in korea.”
the cameraman, hyunwoo, smiled behind the camera, nodding his head. as the frame widened, a few mice scattered across the alley floor near the overflowing trash bags, searching for food. he scrunched his nose in disgust.
the camera caught the stained walls, the flickering barber neon sign, and the general grime of the backstreet before panning back to jiwoo.
she chuckled awkwardly. “as you can see… while the location is convenient, the environment is, uh, very real.”
“anyway, if you’re a student or you’re just starting to work in the city, you’ll probably know how expensive renting can be. if it has a nice layout but it’s cheap—it’s most likely a scam! even a small studio in seoul can cost a fortune, and for a lot of people, finding a cheap place means making a compromise.”
the camera cuts to a wide shot of an older apartment complex—one they were about to enter. the concrete walls were aged and weathered from seasons, with large patches of paint chipped off. dark streaks of moisture and mold ran down from years of exposure.
rusty balcony railings lined the upper floors, and laundry hung outside several windows, fluttering weakly in the humid. the whole structure was screaming, tired, worn–down.
“we’re in yongsan, right outside one of the older goshiwon buildings. it’s about 7pm now, and this area is pretty typical—close to the subway, lots of cheap eats, but also… very compact.”
before stepping inside the small lobby area, jiwoo glanced around. an elderly man sat just outside of the kitchen area of the restaurant on a plastic chair, fanning himself with a folded newspaper. his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, exposing a large beer belly. a cigarette rested between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the air.
he stared directly at the camera, hyunwoo, and jiwoo. his expression blank… almost, unpleasant.
his area, perhaps.
jiwoo smiled awkwardly and gave a small, polite nod. continuing,—she lowered her voice. “right… cheap rent comes with trade–offs. safety, maintenance, location… some complexes don’t even have a smart lock or cctv.”
hyunwoo panned the camera toward the entrance. a broken cctv camera hung crookedly from a wired pole, completely lifeless. next to the building sat discarded furnitues—an old, stained mattress leaning against the wall, reeked with piss and a broken chair missing two legs.
they moved further inside the dimly lit hallway. the lights above flickered and buzzed.
“today, we’re lucky enough to get to meet with someone who lives in one of these apartments! she reached out and offered to show what it’s really like living here. let’s meet her!”
the camera followed jiwoo as she walked a little deeper down the hallway. they climbed up three flights of stairs, before stopping in front of a room where the number had been censored with black box.
jiwoo turned to the camera and whispered with a small, excited smile, “we’re here!”
she raised her hand and knocked softly on the door.
there was a short pause, then after a few seconds, the door opened just a few inches, still secured by the metal chain lock. a young woman peeked through the gap.
“hi… seoul life team…?”
“yes! i’m jiwoo, and this is my cameraman, hyunwoo,” jiwoo said warmly. “yn, right—? thank you so much for reaching out and letting us film. we really appreciate it.”
you gave a small smile and finally unlatched the chain. the metal clinked loudly on the quiet floor as you opened the door fully.
“yes! i’m yn. please come in, come in.”
as the camera moved past the doorway, the first thing viewers saw was—
everything. the whole... room.
you're instantly met with the bathroom—barely enough space for one, with a toilet, sink, and shower head and no divider or a heater.
hyunwoo and jiwoo stepped further inside, panning the camera slowly to capture the full layout. just one single, small room that served everything.
your single bed was pushed against the far wall, decorated with a few cute plushies. in front of the bed stood a wooden drawer with a small tv, no bigger than a monitor, on top. next to it, facing the side of the wall was your study table with a chair tucked underneath, some clutter on the surface, and a small stand fan.
above the desk, a shelf packed with notebooks and studying materials. you had a lot of books, stacked everywhere where there was space. on top of the bed headboard, there’s a small window.
there was no couch. no dining table. no kitchen. no other chairs but your study chair. just your essentials, neatly arranged despite the situation you were put in. despite how minimal and super claustrophobic everything was, your room was clean. a sweet, fresh scent lingered in the air thanks to the automatic air freshener dispenser that puffed every few minutes.
the camera zoomed in gently on the way your toes overlapped one another nervously, then slowly tilted upward to your face.
you were smiling, but it was shy and embarrassed, cheeks flushed. you rubbed your arm and looked down for a second.
“i’m so sorry… it’s, um… it’s small,” you said quietly, voice soft with shame. “i tried to organise it as best as i could so it wouldn’t look too bad on camera, but… yeah. this is it.”
jiwoo’s eyes widened and immediately shook her head, waving her hands in front of her. “no no, don’t apologise! this is actually so cute and homey, yn! the plushes and everything—the way you arranged it is so cute.”
you let out a small laugh, still clearly embarrassed. “thank you! i keep telling myself it’s only been for a while. the rent is cheap, and i can walk to my classes. but oh—! please, please have a seat, you guys.”
you quickly moved around the tiny space, pulling out three seating pillows. you placed two in front of the bed for jiwoo and you, then set one near the study chair area for hyunwoo. in the middle of it all, you laid down a desk cushion, just wide enough to hold two teacups.
with three people, there was barely room to breathe.
“there… it’s not much, but it’s better than standing,” you said softly. you looked a little self–conscious about everything, but you tried your best to be a good host.
hyunwoo muttered a soft thank you as he took a seat, setting up his mini tripod to hold the camera.
“thank you, this is perfect,” jiwoo said, getting comfortable on the pillow. she exchanged a quick nod and a smile to hyunwoo. “the place is really neat—and it smells so good too. what’s this scent?”
you smiled shyly, tucking your knees beneath your weight. “it’s just jasmine. there’s a pork restaurant not far from this building, so sometimes the smell comes in really strong if i leave my window open for too long. gotta be careful with that… it sticks.”
jiwoo let out a light laugh. “i can imagine. smells are one of those things you can’t really get rid of fully once it’s stuck to your room.”
she turned to hyunwoo. “woo, are we all set?”
hyunwoo gave a thumbs–up. “rolling.”
the interviewer turned back to you with an encouraging smile. “great! then yn, could you introduce yourself first? just whatever you’re comfortable with. your age, major, how long you’ve been here, anything like that.”
you sat up a little straighter, hands resting on your lap. even though your cheeks were still faintly red with embarrassment, you tried to speak clearly. clearing your throat, you began. “hi, everyone. i’m yn. i’m a student at seoul national university, majoring in social science and humanities, and i’ve been living here for about… a year now?”
your eyes drifted upward at the ceiling as you thought, then gave a small nod.
“yeah, almost a year now. it’s my first time living away from home, so it’s really hard to adjust.”
jiwoo smiled, nodding. “a whole year… that’s impressive. adjusting to being a student and living alone life must’ve been a big change. what was the hardest part at the beginning?”
you pursed your lips, then glanced around your tiny room for a moment.
“honestly, everything was hard,” you admitted, nodding. “i’m really close with my family, so leaving them was the biggest shock. i have one younger brother and sister, and i was the one who takes care of them while our parents handle the restaurant. i’m a little worried if they’re okay…”
you paused, fiddling with your fingers.
“then moving in was also tough. everything i owned barely fit in this room, and i kept bumping into things. the walls are really thin, so you can hear almost everything. i’ve gotten better at ignoring it so now i just try to keep my space clean and organised so it feels more like home. like me.”
the air freshener puffed again.
jiwoo hummed in acknowledgement. “ah, i see… i think i’ve said it so many times but your room is really cute, yn. then… do you mind telling us how—and why—you ended up choosing this place?”
“the biggest reason was the rent,” you answered honestly. to be fair, there really was no reason to live in such a place in the first place. it stinked, dangerous, shady, weird—and when it rained, it leaked.
“as a student, i have to be really particular with money. this place is cheap, and it’s close to the subway line i need for uni. i spend most of my allowance on books and study materials, so i can’t afford anything more expensive right now.”
the camera panned toward your shelf and the stack of books beside your desk.
“and… secretly, i also send some of my scholarship money to my younger siblings. our parents are working hard, but i still want to help them a little.”
both crews’ expressions softened. “oh… that’s really sweet of you, yn. you’re juggling a lot. can we know how much you pay for the rent here?”
you gave a small nod.
"about... 250,000 won? it used to be cheaper, but you know."
"aah, got it... inflations suck." jiwoo leaned forward a bit on the cushion. “then, to balance it out, what would you say is a really good thing and a bad thing about living here?”
you thought for a second, lips pursing, head tilting.
“hmm… a good thing is that when it’s small, it feels… comforting in a way?” you said, glancing around your room. “like, everything is right here in my view. my bed, my books, my desk, my stuff… when i come back after a long day, it’s like this little space of mine is waiting for me.”
hyunwoo smiled, zooming in on the critters and trinkets around your room that perfectly resembled you.
you paused, then smiled again. “but the bad parts… there are quite a few.”
“oh?” jiwoo perked up, lowering the teacup from her lips.
you hesitated for a moment. “the smell is one thing—especially when the restaurant down there is cooking. and the neighbours… the walls are so thin you can hear people do everything.” you shrug, “but what makes it really bad is the lack of safety.”
“like what?”
you shifted on the bed, looking a little more uncomfortable now.
“uh… as you can see, there’s no security guard and police rarely patrol this area. the cctvs don’t work either, so yeah,” you replied, almost indifferent. “the people around here too… mm, it’s kind of just… you look out for yourself here,”
a beat.
hyunwoo looked around only to realise how flimsy the lock on your door was. the chains were barely hanging on. he didn’t record that.
“have you ever had any issues with looking after yourself?”
smiling, you nod with almost no hesitation. “yup. all the time.”
jiwoo frowned. behind the camera, hyunwoo stiffened slightly. there’s a pause long enough for the weight of your words to settle in the small room.
you notice the shift in the atmosphere—the way they are momentarily caught off guard and the way their postures are a little stiffer. you quickly wave your hands, laughing a little—not wanting the awkward moment to stretch too long.
“ah—! i don’t mean anything serious!” you said quickly, expression lighthearted like it was just a normal mention. the contrast between your casual demeanour and the topic makes the air feel heavy. “i mean, you know, things happen—but it’s fine!”
neither of them looked convinced. jiwoo and hyunwoo looked at each other for a split second. then, she turned back to you, trying to match your casual tone even though her eyes showed confusion.
“things… like what?” she asked, tilting her head with a small smile that was barely there.
“hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head slightly. “you know how nothing good in life comes as it is?”
jiwoo and hyunwoo nodded, listening attentively.
you continued with the same light tone. “well, the downside of it is—i think stalking is quite common in the area.”
a heavy silence filled the tiny room.
jiwoo’s smile faltered for a second. she blinked, clearly caught off guard. she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. behind the camera, hyunwoo shifted his weight, grip tightening slightly on the tripod.
you noticed their reactions and instantly tried to ease the tension by chuckling.
“...stalking?”
you nodded again. “mmhm, but it’s not really a big deal now.”
jiwoo felt her lungs heavy in something indescribable. “yn… that sounds really scary. can you tell us what happened? if you have ever experienced anything like that yourself?”
you nodded. “of course. sure… i think it was maybe a month or two after i moved in? one day i came back from class and noticed my door lock was broken, and so was my window lock. but nothing was missing, so i thought maybe it was just old and worn out.”
they nodded, very slightly.
“i changed both locks the next day. but… it happened again. the new lock was tampered with. i told the landlord, but he said nothing was stolen so i shouldn’t worry too much. he told me i was probably paranoid since i’ve never been far from my family.”
“but of course, when you’re all by yourself in the city, it kinda gets to you, you know? the creeps.”
the air in the tiny room felt thicker. jiwoo frowned another worried expression.
“but still, i filed a police report anyway—but just like what my landlord said, since nothing was missing and there were no signs of entry, there was nothing the police could do. and i think i’ve changed the locks like, almost twenty times? to a point where i was spending more on fixing locks and changing keys.” you let out a small laugh.
hyunwoo glanced at your window—the handle missing. your window couldn’t even be shut properly.
“...and then?”
“and then my items finally went missing.”
you rested your chin on your knees, voice calm but distant. “at first i didn’t really notice it. just small things like a hair tie or my comb—stuff i could rebuy. but then, it was my perfume, faculty uniform, notebooks, toothbrush… yeah.”
the room went completely silent.
hyunwoo, who had been silent since the interview began, spoke up for the first time. “toothbrush?”
you nodded, hugging your knees a little tighter. the way you just smiled about it made hyunwoo shiver.
“yeah. one morning i woke up and it was gone. i thought maybe i misplaced it, but i know i didn’t. it really creeped me out but i just bought a new one—then that one disappeared too.” you chucked, cheeks warming like it was an embarrassing occurrence.
“i think that’s when i truly, truly realised—oh, someone’s coming in. someone really came into my room.”
hyunwoo’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates. he figured he’d let you explain first.
but then jiwoo interfered. “that’s violating. why didn’t you move out?”
you stayed quiet for a few seconds, fingers tracing the pad of your knees. the air freshener puffed again, but the sweet scent did nothing to musk the heaviness in the room.
“where else could i find a place this cheap…” you finally muttered, admitting. you gestured vaguely around the cramped space as if it should’ve been obvious. “with my situation, this is pretty much the only option i have now.”
hyunwoo panned the camera to the small monitor, the little wind chime hanging on the window, your study table where certificates were pinned above, and a colourful stickman family of five drawing from your little sister.
everything was in its exact place.
“oh…”
you smiled. “and to be very honest, after almost a year… i don’t think what he’s doing is that bad. he doesn’t do anything, doesn’t take anything important… just the little things.”
jiwoo frowned deeper, but it was hyunwoo who said something about it. “he?”
you blinked, as if only now realising what you’d just said. but instead of correcting yourself, you just nodded. “yeah, the stalker is a he. i knew it when he left his hoodie, cap, and watch when i woke up.”
the interviewer’s expression tightened, her fingers curling slightly against her knees.
“so he comes inside while you were sleeping?”
you nodded, humming. “i guess so. cause sometimes i wake up and there’s breakfast on my study table—and the clothes have been ironed. he does my laundry sometimes too. this building doesn’t have a washing machine or a dryer, so it’s a hassle to carry my basket outside.” you continued.
“he bought flowers and stuff too.”
the way you talk about it—so mundane like it’s a small perk.
“just like that?” jiwoo didn’t even realise she was leaning towards you.
“i mean, i don’t really have a choice?” you chuckled, like it’s silly to think otherwise. “when i went to the police again, they only advised me to put up a camera inside my room but at that moment i was super broke, so there was nothing i could do.” you shrugged, although feeling a bit ashamed of your current life.
“and besids… he’s doing me these favours and it kinda helps me save money too…”
jiwoo’s eyes widened and she almost grabbed your hands to knock some sense into you. that this wasn’t normal, and you were forced to accept it because of the circumstances you were put in.
instead, she kept her voice as steady as possible.
“have you ever seen him?”
you shook your head, pursing your lips. “nope, never. but i was close to it once…”
your fingers drummed on your knees.
“one night i couldn’t sleep and i felt someone get on the bed behind me. it was really scary ‘cause it was the first time i was aware and awake of his presence. he laid down… really close. when i tired to turn around to look, he just…” you paused. “...cupped his hand over my eyes. he whispered ‘go back to sleep’ and stayed there until i eventually did.”
the silence that followed was suffocating.
jiwoo’s face had gone pale. hyunwoo couldn’t stop staring at you.
“what—? and nobody knows.”
“the police does…”
“no, i meant… who else, yn?”
“nobody else.”
she frowned, swallowing the lump in her throat. “yn, look—if you ever need help, we can help you. we can file a report together and maybe even bring this situation to the media—”
“no, no,” you quickly cut her off, pulling your hands back and waving them. “everyone will see. my parents… my siblings might see it. it’ll worry them so much.”
hyunwoo frowned, he shifted closer. “yn, this isn’t okay. just because nothing happened now doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever. we can help y—”
you took a small breath, trying to steady yourself.
“thank you but i’m fine, really,” you pursed your lips, tilting your head slightly. “sometimes… when you are put in a situation where there’s not much to be done… you kinda just have to accept and see the brighter side of it, you know?”
you rubbed the back of your neck, voice soft. your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at how pathetic your life was.
“like for me, as long as i’m alive—and my family’s doing well, and the laundry’s warm and fresh, and i have food on my table… i think i’m doing fine. i’ll think about your offer but for now,”
your smile falters just a little—just for a second—but you quickly recover. “i think it’ll be fine.”
the silence stretched just enough before the video faded to black.
——
this was the behind the scenes footage of a video we were supposed to post.
while editing this episode a few weeks after it was recorded, we were informed that yn ln was found dead in her apartment—the same one featured in this video.
according to the police, her body was discovered in the bathroom almost two weeks after the estimated time of death. the scholarship officer had been receiving calls about her absence, and a neighbour had reported an odor coming from her room.
cold folded laundry was placed on her bed, and breakfast was left untouched on her study table. although by then, it had rotted and the stench overpowering the scent of her air freshener.
the case has been classified as murder, with signs of break–in and violation were found. despite her multiple previous police reports detailing repeated break-ins, missing items, and stalking, no arrests have ever been made.
with no working cctv footage and no strong leads, the case remains under investigation for now.
stalking is NOT a joke. if you or someone you know is experiencing similar situations, please seek help and take necessary precautions. no one should have to ‘accept’ living in fear.
act now—speak up before silence becomes your only voice.
to respect and commemorate yn and her family, the original full video will not be posted.
only the clip where she talked about the stalking incidents will be released, in hopes of shedding light on the ignorance and dismissive attitude victims often face from authorities.
seoul life is currently supporting yn’s family restaurant business and her siblings’ education, just as she had been doing.
——
“...thank you so much,” you said politely, bowing slightly as the older handyman finished installing the new lock.
he wiped his hands on his rag and looked at you with a furrowed brow. “...kid, are you okay? this is the fourth time you’ve changed locks this week.”
after the interview and visit from jiwoo and hyunwoo, you’d finally realise just how carefree and light you’d taken the stalking situation to be.
just because nothing happened now doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever.
you forced a bright smile, nodding quickly.
“yes, yes, i’m fine! i’m currently looking for other places to rent but i keep losing my keys. sorry for the trouble.”
you quickly slipped inside and closed the door shut before he could say anything else. the sound echoed down the hallway.
the handyman stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door and your chipped room number. he shook his head, slowly, clearly not convinced.
“...do let me know if you need anything else,” he muttered, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him anymore.
——
that same night, it was past 3 in the morning when you heard it.
you were still studying and the rest of the apartment was dark except for the faint glow of the study lamp.
the doorknob started shaking.
at first it was subtle—like a rattle. but it quickly grew stronger, more aggressive when he realised it wasn’t opening. your heart slammed against your ribs.
“oh my gosh…” you whispered, dropping your head low.
you tried to ignore it. told yourself he’ll… he’ll go away.
but the shaking only got worse.
finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.
with shaky legs, you grabbed the pair of scissors from your drawer, and stood by the doorstep, holding them tightly with both hands. your breathing was fast and shallow.
the rattling continued until—crack.
the lock mechanism broke, and the door slowly pushed open.
and for the first time, you saw his face.
the man who had been coming in and out of your room for a whole year.
he stood in the doorway, eyes meeting yours. both of your eyes widened in shock—only yours in pure terror but his…
his expression barely changed. if anything, the corner of his lips twitched upward into something eerily soft.
he looked almost relieved.
“...hey,” he said quietly.
your stalker stepped inside like it was the most natural thing—taking off his shoes and setting them neatly by the entrance.
“i’ve forgotten how to pick locks after a year,” he added with a small, almost apologetic smile.
he reached behind him and tried to close the door, but the lock wouldn’t latch onto the hinge—it just hung awkwardly, not shutting properly.
your hands trembled around the scissors as you backed up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. “who are you…?” your voice cracked. “who are you?”
he tilted his head slightly, looking at you with a soft gaze.
“you know me,” he said gently. “anyway, why’d you decide to change the lock again? it’s such a hassle for both of us.”
your breath hitched, fear and realisation finally hitting you. you couldn’t believe that you were coming in contact with the same man who’d been trespassing and stalking you for a year—and to think you were coming to an acceptance to it was so—
“get out,” you whispered shakily. then louder, “get out!”
“don’t be like that,” he frowned, taking another step closer. you were okay before this, so what changed?
“...it’s because of that fuckass channel, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, sighing. your stalker ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “they’re saying bullshit, baby, i’ll never hurt y—”
terror overtook you.
“get the fuck out!” you screamed. “get out!”
when your stalker only kept closing the distance, you panicked. you scrambled onto the bed behind you, still holding the scissors, and desperately pushed the small window open, trying to climb out.
the winter air hit your face—
but a strong hand suddenly wrapped around your ankle and yanked you back hard.
you almost hit your chin on the window pane.
“ah—!” you gasped as your body slammed against the cheap mattress. he pulled you away from the window, his grip firm enough to hold you down.
“why are you trying to run away from me?” he murmured, one knee pressing onto the mattress as he tried to get on top of you. “i always take care of you, don’t i?”
pure panic surged through you.
survival instinct kicking in, you kicked him hard with your other leg. your foot against his chest, sending him stumbling backward. he crashed into your study table, knocking over the stacks of books and notebooks.
they scattered across the floor.
you scrambled off the bed instantly and bolted for the door, heart pounding in your throat. but before you could reach it—just before your fingertips could touch the knob—, your stalker got up fast. he grabbed your arm, yanked you back violently—
and shoved you into the narrow bathroom. you stumbled and hit the toilet, landing your ass hard on the closed lid as the automatic light flickered on above you.
the cramped bathroom had never felt so fucking small with both of you inside.
POV: Waking up back to the 1700s wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be when you had your best friend, Phainon, accompanying you through your new journey. Now you have the chance to begin feminism yourself! How much more advanced will society be if manage to get women equal rights by 1800 instead of 1900?! But, when you were close to getting one right in specific, Phainon’s support of you was suddenly… gone.
⚠️ WARNINGS:
— This is a Yandere SFW work
— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns
— Contains: Possessive, obsessive and abusive behavior, a bit of physical abuse, misogynistic behavior and confinement.
— Arranged!Phainon x Arranged!Reader
— AU is: 1700s Europe
“Y/N! You’re back!” Phainon screamed excitedly from the main staircase of your shared palace when he saw you standing in your mansion’s entrance, beginning to step down towards you faster than he was doing previously. “How was it on the streets today?” He asked when he finally finished climbing down and jumped off the stairs, walking towards you with his arms behind his back excitedly.
You, happy to see him too, were quick to take off your hat, jacket and accessories with the help of your lady-in-honor, staring back at Phainon’s joyful ocean-blue eyes.
“It was fine. The army resistance was surprisingly very little today so we didn’t have much trouble doing our protest.” You reciprocated his excitement, bowing to your maid in gratefulness before she could start walking away and taking your things back to your bedroom.
“That’s great to hear, Y/N!” Phainon replied, eyes shining with pure admiration of your courage. “I also have good news.” He blinked to you with a smirky grin in his lips, just waiting for you to ask him about his achievement so he could brag about whatever he’d done.
“Oh? What is it?” You crossed your arms casually, finally putting an end to the classy and formal behavior that you adapted to to follow the societal norms of the town where you two live in.
Phainon decided to fix his throat and tie before he could answer you, trying to make himself a bit more classy and snobby before flexing whatever news he had.
“Our pads and tampons are making such a huge success that one of my investors managed to begin trading our products with all North, Central and South America.” Phainon talked in a slightly sarcastic tone, obviously trying to exaggerate it to you so you could be extra happier with it.
“Are you serious?! No way! All three Americas at the same time?!” You gasped in shock, almost skipping in joy while imagining what would be all kinds of women trying out those items and finding out just how extraordinarily better they are than whatever they were currently using to absorb their menstruations.
“Yessir!” Phainon opened both his arms,welcoming all that joy you were expressing.
Every day, Phainon somehow managed to surprise you with good news and raise your spirits about your current life whether it was because of his mindless kindness and consideration of you or with his intelligent marketing skills. You admired him so much that you didn’t even like imagining what would your life be without him in this universe. You’d probably just find yourself marrying an old man who has zero interest or empathy with you, much less in your feminist ideals, and only gives you the bare minimum attention to keep you sane.
The difference between all men and Phainon is that you and him were modern. While other men thought with a non-industrial mindset of making a few thousands for profit, Phainon, who has lived with billionaires, thinks immediately about the millions he can profit because he knows exactly what to invest in. And while other women were mostly illiterate and solely worried with things like their marriage and birthing dozens of kids for their husbands, you were worried about ‘men things’ such as the job market and human progress and you had knowledge about all sorts of things. Because of this, you two were an extremely powerful duo. Your success was sudden, massive and impressive, leaving every man and woman from all social classes either inspired or envious. You two reigned everything. Either your or Phainon’s presence was highly valued in every party you stepped in, whether as an annoyance, taking everyone’s eyes away from the main objective of the ball, or as a blessing, since your presence meant that the party was entertaining.
After all, whatever the perfect couple interacts with or believes in, many others will want to interact with it or follow your beliefs too.
Yes, you and Phainon were technically a couple that got married a few months ago, but in practice, you two didn’t even sleep in the same room. It was an arranged business that you two agreed to do because women cannot really live without a husband and neither you or Phainon wanted you to be bullied for the rest of your life, so joining family, money and forces was obviously the smartest choice. You two had a little wedding and a marriage certification, but no kiss was ever seen after the fake one in the altar.
Your ‘marriage’ was actually one of the first triggers to awaken women into feminism. It was completely alternative. You weren’t forced to display affection with him publicly, you had all rights to complain and raise your voice to Phainon, Phainon had zero demands to you regarding his satisfaction with his life or kids, while at the same time he’d spoil you nonstop. It made women crave that freedom from their husbands, who all thought you were a greedy witch and that Phainon deserved better. But there was nothing they could do about it. His money reigned the country. So much that it made this sinful way of life of yours affordable and even cultural. It’s not his fault he know as exactly what inventions will be successful or not, but he’ll only keep growing, and whatever you two do will be what people want to do too. ‘His’ idea about creating tampons and pads was actually a request from you. Using random, non-absorbing cloths as pads was horrible and barely efficient, making your routine horrible during menstruation, so you decided to talk to Phainon about it, who immediately went after the creation of tampons and pads. A perfect example of how you two were iconic. Phainon already knew tampons and pads would be an immediate millionaire success, and all women envied the dedication of your husband to you compared their own men.
There is so much Phainon has done to you… He gave you a whole personal room for you to sleep in without him, a whole garden that had all the flowers you wished, he bought you all the dresses and makeup you wanted and every reform and furniture of the house was ordered by you. It felt like his life mission was assuring you a comfortable, almost free life, but it still felt incomplete to you because of one reason. The inferiority of women. Seeing women being sent away at age of 15 to marry a 40 year-old man made your heart ache with anguish. Seeing men shame prostitutes for their jobs and even throw tiny rocks on them made you angry. Seeing men’s hypocrisy to force women into a religion and a cult of purity that they don’t follow on their own made your blood boil… A much larger list of failures in this patriarchal system made you revolt, so you begun using your influence and money to create feminism.
And your ideas were expectedly booming between all women of your country, and Congress was slowly becoming more and more convinced that it wouldn’t be horrible idea to give women a few rights.
“I know I’m awesome, I know.” Phainon used a hand to push his frontal hair back to act even prouder of himself in front of you.
“We’re making so much progress in so little time! I can’t believe we are the first era of feminists and we’re turning out to be so successful!” You tip-toed in the floor, holding your own cheeks with excitement.
“We? No, no, no… you.” Phainon’s fingers suddenly reached to your chest bone and pressed it down, forcing all the credits for the success of the feminist movement to you. “And a lady like you deserves a delicious meal in compensation for her work, don’t you think?” He took away his finger off you, but his face leaned a bit closer to you too, staring at you deeply with admiration. “Follow me, Y/N.” He blinked a bit seductively, making you giggle, and when you looked down, his hands was hanging open in front of you just waiting for you to hold it.
And so you did, inflating your chest with air to show him your excitement and how high were your expectations. Phainon giggled at your behavior, beginning to gently pull you around the house.
You and Phainon silently walked in direction of the dinging room, only a few noises of creaking wood accompanying your steps. The silence wasn’t awkward, only a bit tense due to the circumstances you were in. Every corridor you two walked through, the house would become quieter and darker despite still being early afternoon. Your dining room was in a corner of the house where no background noise could annoy you and him, meaning it was distant from the home’s main entrance. And when you had finally reached the long, dark and narrow hall that led to nothing but the dining room in its end, Phainon decided to break the silence.
“You also have a second appointment today, don’t you? Or maybe tomorrow? Or maybe it already happened?” Phainon turned half of his face to you, staring at you with curiosity.
“A second appointment? I don’t—” Before you could finish speaking, your brain suddenly brought back a memory of you and some of your friends talking about future plans and played it for you.
It was you, Ms. Castorice and Ms. Algaea, the other two co-leaders of your movement, discussing about some great news in Aglaea’s mansion. Congress had accepted to participate in a debate with you and a team of other 5 people about giving women a few rights. You and them were discussing about which topics to bring up, which people to form a team with, and when should the debate happen.
“Cat got your tongue?” Phainon woke you up from your thoughts, laughing at your frozen face and still staring at it now with a mischievous stare.
“I do!” You snapped the fingers of your other free hands. “I-I have to go to Congress by 6 tonight!” Phainon’s eyes widened when you reminded him of what appointment was scheduled for today or maybe sometime else.
“Ah, yes!” Phainon stopped walking and let your hand go. “You were telling me about your plans for it a few days ago!” He pointed to you with a hand, trying to relate to you.
“Yes, yes, yes! I’ve prepared such good arguments to tell the Congress! It’ll be very difficult for them for them to deny our requests, much less with a good reason!” You crossed your arms again, remembering the expectations you had set. “Can you imagine? By tomorrow we might get the right to divorce! Women will get the right to divorce!” Phainon’s eyes widened when he felt the impact of those news.
“Seriously? The right to divorce this early?!” His mouth dropped to the floor as you confidently nodded to him.
“Yessir! We might finally be able to ask for a divorce too!” You laughed at your own additional words, but you quickly realized that Phainon went fully quiet while you were, so you stopped laughed and looked him, only to see he did not reciprocate, still with the same widened expression in his face, but his mouth was not smiley anymore.
“What do you mean?” He asked a bit confused.
“Me and you… Getting a divorce…” You pointed to him and you as you spoke, then you put your hands together only to separate them, representing what divorce was.
But Phainon’s expression turned horrified and almost pale when you separated your hands from each other, apparently taking it as a genuine offense.
“Why..?” His eyebrows frowned, looking as you worried.
“Well.. because we aren’t exactly married… This is all just for survival, remember?” You laughed a bit to try cooling him off, but Phainon’s expression only seemed to sadden even more.
“But… we’re fine together, aren’t we? We’re surviving really well, aren’t we? So why would you want to divorce?” Phainon stepped closer to you once, and this hall started to feel like it’d became narrower.
“W-Well, yeah, we’re doing good, but if I get women the right to divorce and to work independently, I won’t need you anymore… I mean, we were not doing this back in Amphoreus for a reason…” You laughed it off again, but then his hurt expression and silence made you realize you shouldn’t be giving him any reasoning. “What’s going on, Phainon?” You darkened your expression, trying to get straight to the point.
“I’ve been a good husband, haven’t I? I’ve made you happy all this time, haven’t I?” Phainon now sounded visibly anxious, breath almost hitching as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you, forcing you to repel and step backwards.
“Yeah, Phainon, but you’re not actually my husband. No need to call yourself one…” You laughed at his words, not sympathizing with his worry. “This is all an act for us to survive in this society, remember? There is no actual love or dependence between us or anything…” Phainon’s eyes widened with that last phrase as if you said something that just crushed his heart.
“W-What..?” Phainon’s cute puppy eyes stared at you with dying hope, but you still didn’t feel the slightest pity for him.
“Phainon, seriously, what the fuck is going on?” You decided to step forward this time, setting your ground for him to understand he was almost disrespecting your space.
Phainon didn’t answer you at first, only reluctantly staring at your eyes with his shaky blue pupils. It costed him quite a while to build courage to be truthful with you, gulping down his accumulated saliva and turning his head down to avoid the shame of what he has in his mind.
“I… I don’t want a divorce.” His confession came out as loud as a whisper, which made you not understand what he said initially and forced you to guess it.
Jointing the few syllables you’ve heard and assuming the words and articles he’d said with the help of context clues, you’d concluded he’d said ‘I don’t want a divorce’, which immediately triggered you to have a negative reaction. But you still remained quiet, trying to comprehend why would he want to stay married to you. Maybe he’s afraid to live without a wife in this rigid society? But he’s a man… You are the one supposed to be afraid of living without a husband. Or maybe he’s thinking about that? About your safety and comfort living in this society without a husband? Or maybe… that alternative you’ve been avoiding to recognize ever since the day of your ‘marriage’..?
…
No, it can’t be. He would never.
So you just sighed, throwing that thought to the back of your and concluding your investigation. Phainon did not want a divorce, and he doesn’t want it because he’s worried about you.
“You don’t a want a divorce?” You firmly queried, trying to have a bit of confirmation over your guess, a hand of yours moving to the necklace you wore to fidget it while he answered.
“Yes…” He mumbled shyly and you scoffed in pride of having guessed it correctly, still not understanding why was he be acting like this if his intentions were so pure.
“Why?” You inflated your chest again, preparing for whatever he wanted to say now.
“Because…” He tried to answer your question immediately, but the knot in his throat impeded him from finishing. “Because…” And he tried again, a bit less desperately, failing so miserably he looked down to the floor again in embarrassment.
And so, you exhaled, letting all that imprisoned air in your lungs in a sigh. Since he couldn’t say it for himself, you’d do it for him.
“I appreciate your worry for my comfort, Phainon, but I can definitely live on my own. I don’t care about what these people have to say about me and my choices. In fact, they can feel free to bully me as much as they want, I’ll still be milking more money than them in the end of the day.” You spoke less firmly, trying to see if that would make him feel comfortable to be more honest with you. “I can’t even guarantee that we will get the right to divorce in the first place anyway…” You tried to be a bit more optimistic, but then you immediately regretted it in recognition that it is needed to be realistic in a situation like this. “But I’ll still go to Congress today and fight for it. For me and all the women that need to get away from their husbands.” You could see Phainon swallowing another big chunk of saliva when you finished talking, surprisingly having a negative reaction again.
“For you? Why you?” Phainon stepped closer once again, face only becoming more stunned, which truly disturbed you.
“You’re scaring me, Phainon.” You brought your shoulders closer to your body, trying to make yourself more resistant and tolerable to his behavior.
“I don’t mean to scare you, Y/N… I just want to know why do you want a divorce when we’re so happy together…” He tried to argue in a way that still didn’t reveal his reason, but seeing how unmoved and suspicious you still were of him, he sighed and squinted his eyes. “I don’t want a divorce…” He stated his intentions again, but in a weak tone that made him sound like a hungry puppy, trying to make you feel guilty.
And that pissed you off. You believed Phainon was genuinely not trying to intentionally manipulate you into staying married him, but he was still acting unreasonably.
“But I do.” You countered him firmly. “And I will get it.” You wanted to turn away and immediately walk back to your room, but the moment you spun your right foot, before you could even start about turning your full body away from him, Phainon reacted to your words.
“No, you won’t..!” The tone of his voice deepened in such a rapid way that made you stop and look back at his eyes immediately, a sense of danger growing in the back of your mind.
“Yes, I will.” Feeling even more cornered by the hall’s tightness and afraid of Phainon, you decided to turn away abruptly in a speed that would stun Phainon for a moment before he could possibly catch you and bring you back to the discussion.
“Where are you going..?!” You heard Phainon stomp forward harshly, launching himself forward to reach your wrist and hold you tight with his large hand.
“Let me go, Phainon.” You decided to turn your eyes back to his again, trying to use your presence to order him, forcing yourself to control your voice from shaking as you spoke, taking his action as a threat to your security.
“Why are you trying to leave..? Why are you trying to leave me?!” His eyes were fully widened with anguish as he desperately filled you with two questions to answer.
“I’m just… not hungry anymore. I’ll eat later.” You quickly mumbled a fake reasoning, but it didn’t seem to convince him. After all, Phainon’s eyebrows noticeably frowned.
“That’s not true. Why are you lying to me..?” His grip in your wrist tightened in a way that made you grunt from the pain.
“Phainon, you’re hurting me..!” You tried to pull your hand away from him, only to be fully held back, which only made you even more nervous and scared of him.
“I don’t want us to divorce, Y/N… We don’t need a divorce…” He suddenly turned a bit soft again, endlessly trying to argue with you about that despite the fact that he was really freaking you out.
“I-I need to prepare for Congress, Phainon..! Let me go at this instant!” You even tried stepping away from him, seeing if it was possible to run away, but it didn’t work due to his heavy weight holding you back.
“No…” He mumbled, looking the deepest he could to your eyes, still trying to find any bit of pity in you and hope for himself.
“You’re only giving me more reasons to divorce you right now, Phainon..! Let me go now!” You had no choice but to try facing him with your own strength, now trying to use your other hand to grab that wrist of his to pull it away from you.
“No… We can’t divorce…” His repetitiveness finally made you snap.
“Yes we can and we will!” You launched your face forward and screamed at him, trying to shake your hand out of his grip the fullest you could.
But that triggered him snap too in reaction to your audacity in making such a hurtful statement.
“NO, WE WON’T!” He screamed at a tone that you’ve never heard from him and didn’t recognize, also finally releasing your wrist.
But before you give your first step backward, or think about his change in tone, something else stunned you again.
SLAP!
Your body immediately fell to the ground as Phainon’s hand smacked across your face, your feet enrolling themselves with the thick layers of your dress, giving your instincts time to only put your palms in the wooden floor before your head actually hit the ground, meaning you successfully landed sat instead of fully laid. But you recovered a second after the fall, so you immediately placed a hand on the cheek Phainon had slapped to ease the arduous pain he inflicted on you and rose your head up to him, finding him powerfully standing right in front of you, staring at you like a caught prey, jailed in a cage.
Neither of you spoke for the next seconds to process what had just happened and only breathed with opened mouths. The more you thought, the more frightened for your life you became, remembering the sudden change in his tone to one you’ve never heard, the slap itself and the threat it represented to your relationship… But the more he thought, the more calm he became in realization that you were frozen in fear, defeated by his action. And that’s why after a last round of breathing in and out deeply, he shut his mouth and calmly walked closer to you, kneeling down in front of you.
“Y/N…” A hand of his also reached the same cheek you were holding, cupping it gently, which only made your skin shiver with disgust of his touch, begging yourself to scream at him to get the fuck away from you. “I’m… I-I’m sorry…” He briefly wheezed, trying to ease the both of you from the mood. “I didn’t mean to… do this… or… t-to scare you.” He pathetically smiled at you, only making you wish to run away from him even more, but your adrenaline could only afford to freeze your body in that sat position. “I just… don’t want us to divorce… There’s no good reason to do that… That’s all…” He gulped down again.
You knew it. Deep down, you’ve always known it. You just didn’t want to admit it.
But maybe… you should’ve definitely talked to him about it sooner.
Phainon’s kindness… was never just friendly.
And there were always many little signs that rose that flag…
For example, the way he’d stare at you whenever he gave you a gift, sometimes only a few inches away from your face, just waiting to see the amazing reaction he’d rip out of you. Deep down, it always felt like he urged for more of something you couldn’t name until now. It didn’t feel like he just wanted your comfort and happiness because that’s what friends do, it felt like he did it as if he was your lover. These little gifts, perfectly enveloped in a beautiful wrap, felt like little seduction attempts. After all, the next gift would always be better than the next, as if he wanted to show just how dedicated he is, and convince your heart to let yourself fall for him.
The way he treated you during the day of your marriage… In the altar, what was supposed to be just a quick smooch to pose a fake picture of yourselves to the crowd witnessing you, turned out to be so much more touchy, intimate and even… real, like real couples do. And even when the vows were done, he kept throwing himself at you and holding your hands for the rest of the celebration party, for some reason so happy with the day. Friends don’t stick their tongues inside their friends’ mouths when it’s needed to fake a kiss. It wasn’t just an act.
And the one habit that mostly made you icky about thinking about Phainon’s possibly feeling things for you… The way his eyes stoned in you and his cheeks flushed whenever he saw you trying any ball dresses and makeup for the parties you were invited to or even when he saw you in your rendered pijamas when you two were home… They always delivered you a message of lust, and you don’t want any of your friends to lust over you, much less Phainon in such a situation like yours right now. But it was true, Phainon would not react to you being pretty like a friend would.
You should’ve accepted it sooner. But now it’s too late. You’ve let this grow. You are reaping what you sowed.
Phainon liked you as more than a friend.
“But think about it… Wouldn’t it be iconic? The leader of the feminist movement herself doing all of this work to get the right of divorce when she, on her own, does not desire to divorce her husband? You could show them that it is possible to be a feminist and be a married woman at the same time…” His thumb caressed your hand, lamenting that he couldn’t directly reach your fluffy cheek.
But you were still too stunned to say anything, despite the thousands of protests running in your mind, begging to be shouted.
“We are such a good duo… Why would you ever want to put and end to us? Put an end to our influence? Our impact? Our empire?” Phainon looked at you with more pity, assuming his position of total power over you. “We don’t need to be exactly like other couples… I would never force you to do that… We can still be exactly like how we are today, but all I want is to still be able to live in the same house as you… and call you my wife.” Phainon pulled that hand of yours that held your cheek and turned it around, making your palm face down.
And with very slow movements, he smooched your knuckles, smiling softly at them. And then he looked down at your fingers, meeting that engagement ring that the both of you were forced to wear to avoid any accusations or bullying, and that made his grin grow, blue eyes shining with joy. He leaned down and kissed the ring too with more intensity, sucking your skin for a bit to demonstrate just how much he valued that golden ring.
“I just want you to wear this ring with me for the rest of your life… Is that too much to ask from you? I’ve done so many harder things for you…” Phainon laid his cheek on your hand, rubbing himself against it as if it was the comfiest pillow he’d ever laid on.
He kept doing that for a few seconds before he kissed your hand again… and then again… again, again and again, many spots in it becoming a bit moistened with his saliva. He even turned your hand around and begun kissing your palm and its heel as deep as he could.
“I love you, Y/N…” He mumbled in your skin with closed eyes, breath warming up your skin. “I really do…” He made sure his message was clearly sent to you, pausing for a moment to let you absorb it. “But I can’t let you do this to us… to me…” He opened his eyes, staring at you with a weird kind of pity again, as if he wasn’t bothered by your discomfort, like a masochist would.
But then he stood up again, not offering you any help to get up too.
“You won’t go to Congress today.” He stated a bit more seriously, contrasting his previous tone as he stared down at you very firmly, before he started to calmly walk away from the scene as if he hadn’t just done something completely absurd and out of normal.
Your eyes followed his body in fear, watching him walk with his hands holding each other behind his back ao elegantly, each step making the wood planks creak a bit. In the end of the hall, where you two came from, Phainon met one of your many maids standing still with an uncomfortable expression visible in her face, but still forcing herself to do her job as either your or his servant.
“If you see her trying to leave tonight, don’t let her. You understand?” Phainon spoke to the maid very gently, contrasting himself once again.
“Yes, sir.” She nodded, assuming her new responsibility.
“Good. You may call me or the guards in the gate if that happens.” Phainon assigned the maid her permissions, making her nod again, but silently. “Go tell the other maids their new assignment.” He used to a hand to tap her shoulder twice very sweetly.
“Yes, my master.” She gently bowed to him again, making Phainon grin, feeling comfortable enough to keep walking away from the scene.
When he finally turned to the left and fully left you alone, the maid looked at you again, staring at your pitiful situation with mixed feelings. It was a silent communication, but you could still get her general message, the same way she could get yours.
After all the efforts you’ve been doing to push a feminist agenda in your town to all kinds of women and men, you’ve failed to do that in your own home with your own maids. The same women who were stuck in your palace, working 24/7 to keep every detail of your home perfect and make your routine as easy as possible, were neglected by you and your movement, just like how in real life some women were neglected from the early stages of feminism too. And now you were suffering the harshest consequences of it you could suffer. She pitied you and even seemed to wish she could do something for you, but all she was ever taught to do in this sort of job was obey the man’s command, meaning she’d betray her own beliefs and risk her whole career if she dared to think about helping you, which would be disobeying Phainon. So all she could do was give that silent treatment until she couldn’t bare her own grief anymore and begun to walk away in the same direction as Phainon did, beginning to call him by his nickname, her voice echoing in your ears lightly.
How could you forget? You live in a conservative patriarchy.
Phainon is the man in your relationship.
In conservative patriarchies, the man is always the leader. The woman is just his follower. A servant who is always mindlessly ready to please him.
And he likes this system the way it is.
Today he just made that very clear. The roles of the relationship were established.
Taglist: @gaboplaydespacito
Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3
warnings ;; yandere!playboy being a delusional freak (as usual), yandere behavior, MAJOR second hand embarrassment, slightest bit of angst (if you squint), crack.
╰────༺♡༻────╯
Valentine’s Day for Kieran was basically his second birthday. The rich boy never bought candy, why would he, when he could stock up for free just from today alone? His locker was overflowing with chocolates, candies, and love notes—notes that he didn’t even bother reading before tossing them straight into the trash. But the sweets? Oh, he made sure to keep those. Stuffing his bag full, he scoffed at the cheap, store-bought heart chocolates while setting aside the good stuff; the expensive ones, the homemade treats that probably took hours to make. Greedy. That’s all it was. Kieran was just greedy.
But even with all the gifts, all the attention, all the adoration, it never really mattered—not until today. Not until he spotted one letter on his desk that actually made his heart skip a beat. Because this one? This one had to be from you.
For the first time on February 14th, Kieran felt a genuine rush of excitement, something different from the usual smug satisfaction of being adored that just boosted his already huge ego. The envelope sat on his desk, neat and delicate, like it had been placed there with care—like it actually meant something. His fingers brushed over your initials written in beautiful cursive handwriting, slow and deliberate, his mind already running wild. Finally. You were finally giving in. He could already picture you, shy and flustered as you wrote it, your heart laid bare just for him. A love letter? From you? His sweet little obsession finally coming to her senses? He was grinning, twirling the letter between his fingers, taking his time, savouring the moment. Oh, you were so cute for this.
He carefully opened the letter, fingertips tingling with anticipation. His heart was racing, his mind already running a mile a minute. What kind of sweet words did you leave for him? Were you confessing your love? Finally admitting that you couldn’t resist him any longer? God, you knew him so well! Every detail, down to the paper, the handwriting, the delicate way the envelope was sealed—it all screamed you. This was the first time that the suave playboy turned into a giggling high school girl, biting his lip to keep from grinning too wide. If he was just some regular guy, people would be throwing weird glances at him for nearly stomping his feet in excitement, but he’s Kieran, so no one does.
To be honest, all the girls around him loved it. They giggled amongst themselves, watching him act like a lovesick fool, finding it more endearing than embarrassing. Some of them seething in jealousy at the mysterious girl who got the school's renowned playboy all lovestruck like this. Man, pretty privilege was real. Any other man would’ve been clowned for this, but Kieran? No, Kieran could get away with anything—especially when he looked good doing it.
The white haired male just had to find you, had to catch a glimpse of his princess all shy and flustered from pouring out her emotions in this cute little letter. He was already going to force you into his valentines day plans-- but you, making the move first? Gosh, you never fail to surprise him.
Kieran rushed around the school, finally found you hanging around the library. He waltzes over to your table, practically floating with confidence, that stupidly charming smirk plastered across his face. With an easy flick of his wrist, he spun the chair around, plopping down and draping his arms over the back like he owned the fucking place; the letter was in his hand, obnoxiously tapping it against his palm as he leaned in, way too close, eyes glinting with something dangerous beneath all that excitement.
“Sooo...” he drawled, looking at you up and down, voice smooth as ever, “...couldn’t resist me anymore, huh princess~?” the blue eyed male winked as he laughed boyishly, Though his words were condescendingly annoying, a glint of affection is laced in his orbs.
You, the girl who just wanted some peace on this already lame ass day where you enviously stare at the lovey dovey highschoolers with, gaze up from your notebook as you stare blankly at him, forcing yourself not to immediately roll your eyes at the sight of the blue eyed playboy. “Huh?” You blink once, and then twice at him.
Kieran scoffs out a laugh. Still so shy, bless your cute little soul. “The letter, sweetheart.” He waved it a little, like it was obvious. “Real cute of you, by the way. You always did have good taste.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the pastel pink letter, squinting at it before looking back at him. “What letter? Dude what the fuck are you talking about?” tilting your head as you grimace at his stupid little smirk.
Kieran let out a breathy laugh, tilting his head like you just said the funniest thing in the world. “Ahh, playing shy now? That’s adorable, really,” he mused, tapping the letter against his chin. “Didn’t think you’d get cold feet after pouring your heart out like this, but it’s okay, princess. I get itttt. Big emotions can be scary!” he says with a mocking pout, leaning in closer.
He reached out, trailing a finger down your arm like he was so sure this was some flirty little game. Youre playing hard to get as always, its okay! He likes the chase. However, you cant back out this easily when he literally has the physical proof of your love-- no, infatuation towards him. “You don’t have to pretend, y’know. I already know it’s from you.” his other hand tracing the first letters of your first and last name that was engraved onto the envelope.
But the way you just kept staring at him, utterly lost, was starting to poke holes in his fantasy. No. No, you were just messing with him. Testing him. Right? Rolling your eyes, you snatch the letter out of his hand, too tired to deal with whatever weird fantasy he had cooked up this time. With an exhausted sigh, you scanned the handwriting, flipping the letter over to really stare at the initials , and then—oh. Oh, this was actually hilarious. Your hand slaps your mouth as you stifle a giggle.
“Kieran,” you deadpanned, looking him dead in the eyes, “this isn’t from me. It’s from the other girl in our chemistry class. Y’know, the one with the same initials as me?”
Silence.
Kieran just stood there, blinking, like his brain was trying to reboot. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and for the first time all day, he didn’t have a slick response ready. You watched, unimpressed, as his expression went through about ten different emotions at once—confusion, disbelief, denial, a little more denial—before finally landing on something unreadable.
“...what?”
He freezes for a solid minute before letting out a light chuckle, rolling his shoulders back like this was no big deal. “Ohh, right. Of course. The other girl.” He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, throwing on that easy, practiced smirk. “I knew that! I was just.. I was just joking, silly~!”
But inside? He was tweaking.
'What the actual hell. What do you mean it’s not from you? Then why the hell did it feel like you? Look like it was from you? Sound like you?' His heart was racing, but not in the good way anymore. His palms felt weirdly clammy. His eye twitched. 'No. No, no, no. This doesn’t make sense. This was supposed to be from you. This was supposed to be our moment. So why— who, who even is the other girl??? Has he ever even interacted with her??' Suddenly the heartfelt words that adorned the letter just seemed incredibly corny and cheesy to him. The bright pastel colours decorated along the paper blazed in his eyes, practically laughing at the delusional boy that stood before it.
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “Uh-huh. Sure you did.”
Kieran swallowed. Act natural. Act. Natural. The playboy opened his mouth, ready to spit out some smooth, damage-control comeback—but nothing came out. For the first time in his entire life, he had nothing. Just sitting there, frozen, swallowing the most brutal, humiliating reality check of his existence. And the worst part? You were just staring at him. Not even amused. Not even mad. Just tired and annoyed.
“Oh my God,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose like you were physically in pain just being near him. “I literally don’t have time for this. Happy Valentine's Day man.” You say with a tight lipped smile, grabbing your stuff as you pat his shoulder. And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away.
Kieran just stood there, gripping the letter so hard it crumpled in his palm. His ears were burning, his jaw tight, but his smirk? Still there. Bruised ego? Maybe. But shattered? Please. A mix-up like this wasn’t enough to shake him. You didn't straight up reject him, it was just a misunderstanding! It was all that stupid girl's fault for having the same initials as his dear soulmate! As if you could ever actually reject him.
No, no, this just meant you were still fighting it. Still playing your little games, still too stubborn to admit what you really wanted. Him. That was fine. He had all the time in the world to let you come to your senses. You’d see it eventually—how you were meant for him, how there was never any other option. And when you finally stop running? Oh, princess he’d be right there, waiting. Besides, there was always next year, and that time; he is certain that the only chocolates he’d be getting is from you.
a/n :: for some reason you guys looveee seeing kieran suffer so heres my early valentines gift for you all :p (maybe not you all but the three anons in my inbox LOL)
purerae<3
Hi so I read your request and what you write so can you do Oikawa x f!reader haikyu timeskip and hes our childhood bestfriend who is obsessed with us and he is manipulative and possessive over us (yandere??) to a point we confront him about it and it flips a switch on him maybe causing him to get physical with us and even maybe forcefully kiss us? and can you also make it slightly suggestive and steamy - 🍩
Never Letting Go (DARK CONTENT)
Pairing: Oikawa Tōru (post-timeskip) x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: When you finally confront Oikawa about his suffocating obsession, his mask slips—only to be replaced by something more dangerous: a twisted tenderness that feels more suffocating than his rage. Pinned under his touch, you're forced to face the ghost of your childhood best friend, now turned ???.
Hey Siri, play author's note.
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10: Hihi!!! Thank you for reading my request + what I write!! I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, but I do hope you enjoy reading it!!
The Buenos Aires night pressed close, thick with heat even though the stars glittered high above. The apartment Oikawa had insisted you stay in—the one he called "ours" with an airy smile- was too quiet. No hum of a TV, no chatter from passing cars, just the soft tick of the clock and the shallow rhythm of his breathing as he leaned against the counter across from you.
His eyes, those sharp, calculating hazel eyes you'd known since childhood, tracked every movement you made.
"You've been avoiding me," he said softly, but his tone was laced with accusation.
You crossed your arms, forcing yourself not to flinch under his gaze. "I've been busy. Not everyone can just... rearrange their entire life for you, Tōru."
The way his name slipped from your lips made something flare in his expression—anger, hurt, and something deeper, darker, hungrier. He pushed off the counter, closing the space between you with that deceptively lazy stride of his. Even now, years later, he moved like a predator that already knew it had won.
"I don't like it when you lie to me," he murmured, standing close enough that you could smell the faint, expensive cologne mixed with the salt of lingering sweat from training. "We've known each other too long for you to try that."
You steadied your breath, refusing to step back even when his shadow swallowed yours. "I'm not lying, Oikawa. I'm telling you the truth, you're just suffocating me. You're always watching, always... interfering. I can't even breathe without you.. hovering."
His smile cracked, just a little, like porcelain under too much pressure. He tilted his head, strands of his dark brown hair falling over his forehead. "Suffocating you?" He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You think I do all this because I want to make your life harder? I do it because I know what's best for you. Because I've always known what's best for you."
Your stomach twisted. You'd known Oikawa was obsessive—he always had been, ever since middle school—but saying it aloud, confronting him like this, felt like dragging a match across a frayed rope.
ꫂ❁
"I don't need you controlling me," you snapped, your voice trembling but strong. "I don't need you deciding who I talk to, who I see, what I do. I don't need you to—"
He moved before you finished, hands snapping to your shoulders, pushing you back until your spine hit the wall with a muffled thud. The air whooshed from your lungs, shock freezing you as his face hovered inches from yours.
"You don't need me?" His voice was low, trembling with fury and something frighteningly raw. "Do you even understand what you're saying? After everything? I left Japan, I built a career, I did all of it with you in mind, because I thought—no, I knew—that one day you'd finally see that no one will ever love you the way I do."
His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to pin you, to remind you of the strength he had but usually masked under his theatrics.
Your heart pounded, adrenaline and fear tangling with something else you didn't want to name. His closeness was dizzying, the heat of his body bleeding through the thin fabric between you.
"Oikawa—Tōru—stop," you whispered, though it came out weaker than you intended.
"Why?" His breath brushed your ear, making your pulse spike. "Why should I stop when this is the closest you've let me get in years? Do you have any idea how insane it makes me, seeing you laugh with other people, letting them touch you, letting them breathe your air when you won't even look at me like this?"
Your fingers twitched at your sides, nails biting into your palms. You wanted to shove him back, to scream, but his words laced into you, weaving guilt, fear, and that dangerous thread of familiarity.
He knew you too well. He always had.
"Because this isn't love," you managed, though your voice cracked. "This is..... It's manipulation. You don't care about me; you care about owning me."
Those words... snapped something in him. His laugh was bitter, sharp, like broken glass.
"Own you?" His eyes blazed, and he pressed closer, his chest brushing yours. "You think I want to own you? No. I want every single piece of you because it's already mine. It always has been. From the moment we were kids, you always came to me first with everything. Every secret, every fear, every dream. You gave it all to me. And now you think you can just take it back?"
Your breath hitched as his forehead dropped against yours, his voice lowering to a rough whisper.
"Tell me to back off. Really, tell me. Look me in the eye and say you don't want me."
You froze. Because you couldn't. Not entirely. And he knew it.
His hand slid from your shoulder down to your wrist, fingers wrapping around it, not quite tight but firm enough to remind you he wasn't letting go. His other hand lifted, brushing your jaw, the pad of his thumb grazing the corner of your mouth.
"You don't get it," he murmured, softer now, almost pleading. "You're the only constant in my entire life. Volleyball, fame, Argentina—none of it means anything if I can't come home to you. And I'll make you see that, even if I have to drag it out of you piece by piece."
ꫂ❁
The air between you was scorching. His gaze flicked to your lips, lingered, then snapped back to your eyes, for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just that: his ragged breathing, your racing heart, the electric line between fear and want that you didn't dare cross.
You swallowed hard. "Tōru... this isn't fair."
His smile returned, slow and devastating, but his eyes stayed wild. "Love isn't fair, sweetheart. But it's ours. And I'm never letting you go."
Your back still pressed to the wall, you could feel your heartbeat hammering through your palms where they lay flat against the cool plaster despite Oikawa's grip on your wrist.
Oikawa hadn't moved away; if anything, his presence seemed to expand, crowding out the room, his warmth clinging to your skin like humidity.
But something in him shifted.
He loosened his grip on your wrist just enough to slide his fingers down, lacing them with yours instead. The sudden intimacy of it — the softness after the hard edge — made your stomach turn.
"I'm sorry," he said, but his voice was low, velvety, far too calm for the fury of a second ago. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles as though he'd just caught you mid-waltz instead of pinning you to a wall. "I scared you, didn't I? God.. I hate scaring you."
His forehead pressed to yours again, and you realized with a jolt that he wasn't trembling from anger anymore; he was trembling with restraint. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the tenderness there was almost worse than his rage.
"This is what you don't understand," he murmured, his breath ghosting across your lips. "When I think of you leaving... it feels like someone's carving me out from the inside. And I can't—" his voice cracked, just slightly, "—I can't survive that. You're not just someone to me. You're everything. You're... home."
You tried to pull your hand back, but he only tightened his fingers around yours, the motion gentle but inescapable, like a silk knot pulling tighter.
"Tōru—please," you pleaded; your voice shaking and helpless, but when you thought about it, you weren't even sure what you were begging him for.
"Shhh," he said softly, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, smearing a tear you didn't even realize had fallen. His touch was featherlight now, like he was handling glass. "I know I can come off as controlling. I know I'm too much. But if you'd just stop fighting me, if you'd just let me love you the way I'm supposed to— then none of this... would've happened."
His face dipped closer, his nose brushing yours, and then his mouth was on yours before you could speak.
Not a soft kiss. Not a question.
It was a claim, poured into you like heat and desperation. His lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate insistence that made your stomach churn as you felt his tongue swipe against your bottom lip. You tried to push him back, hands against his chest, but he caught your wrists easily, pressing them to the wall on either side of your head without ever breaking the kiss.
ꫂ❁
When he finally pulled back, his lips were flushed, and his expression was almost radiant — a terrifying mix of triumph and devotion.
"That's it," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead resting against yours again. "That's what it's supposed to feel like. You and me. Always."
You turned your head away, gasping, trying to collect yourself. "Why would you... This isn't love," you said again, voice shaking. "This is—"
He cut you off again with a laugh, low and bitter but wrapped in honey. "You keep saying that, but your body doesn't lie. I felt you tremble. I felt you melt." He released your wrists just enough to cup your face again, tilting it back toward him, leaving you with no choice but to look him in the eye. His smile was heartbreakingly tender and utterly wrong.
"Don't worry," he said softly, thumb stroking along your jaw, voice dripping with promise and threat all at once. "You don't have to decide right now. You don't have to say anything at all. I'll take care of it. I'll take care of you. From now on, you don't have to think about anything except staying right here with me."
You shivered, more from the weight of his words than from his touch.
He leaned in again, his lips brushing your ear this time as he whispered, "After tonight, I'm never letting go. Not for volleyball. Not for anyone. Not for anything. You're mine. You've always been mine."
His breath lingered against your skin like a brand. And the worst part was the softness of it, the way he said it like a vow instead of a threat, like he was promising you a future instead of stealing it from you.
ꫂ❁
A moment after his words, the room felt as if all the air had been stolen from it. Every sound dulled until all you could hear was the violent hammer of your heartbeat and the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted even closer. The warmth of his breath at your temple lingered like a stain you couldn't scrub off.
You tried to swallow, but it caught in your throat. Your body felt hijacked, heart racing, palms damp, stomach knotted, but underneath the adrenaline, a sharp, rising wave of revulsion threatened to choke you.
How had it come to this? How had you ended up here, pinned under the weight of someone you'd once called your best friend? You thought of shared summers, his crooked grin, the way he'd been the first to catch you when you tripped. Now, it felt like looking at a ghost wearing his face.
You flattened your palms against his chest, desperate to create even some distance, but the heat radiating from him only trapped you further. "Tōru... stop. Just stop." Your voice cracked on the last word, shame curling inward like claws. "This isn't right— Please stop—"
He silenced you with a soft shush, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as though wiping away the words. The intimacy of the gesture made your stomach turn. "Shhh. You're upset. You don't mean that," he murmured, eyes locked on yours, glinting with a strange, manic tenderness.
The words hit like ice water. You don't mean that. He was rewriting your reaction even as you had it.
Your chest burned with a mixture of disgust, fury, and self-blame. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to shove him away until he crashed into the opposite wall. But another part—ugly and ashamed—whispered that maybe you had led him here. Maybe you should have drawn the line sooner, been clearer, and acknowledged the signs instead of pretending it was all just harmless.
You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the thought.
This isn't my fault.
But his proximity, his voice, made it almost impossible to hold onto that truth.
"You always do this," you said hoarsely, opening your eyes again. "You twist things until they're what you want. You make me feel like I'm crazy, like it's my fault for not wanting this—"
His smile softened, but his grip on your wrists tightened just enough to remind you it was still there, that he still had control. "I don't twist anything," he said, his tone that of the practiced and public Oikawa, who was always calm and fun —the voice he used for interviews and adoring fans. "I just see the truth before you do. You're scared because this is real, and you've never let yourself feel it."
ꫂ❁
The calmness was worse than his earlier rage. It oozed into every inch of space between you, heavy and sticky, smothering your breath. He leaned his forehead to yours again, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the moment. His body pressed closer, the solid weight of him pinning you with a heat that was more prison than comfort.
"Look at me," he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. "You've been mine since we were kids. Everyone else knew it. You knew it, too, even if you wouldn't say it. That's why you keep coming back to me. Why you still let me this close. Because you want this."
Your stomach lurched. Bile stung the back of your throat. You wanted to scream, to claw your way free, but his voice threaded through your shame, pulling at it, making it harder to breathe.
"No," you rasped, shaking your head, but it came out weak. "No, I don't."
He chuckled, low and indulgent, like you were a child throwing a tantrum. "You're just saying whatever you can now," he murmured, fingers trailing down your arm, skimming just enough to make your skin crawl. "But it won't work because I know that's just you being scared of how good we could be."
The room felt smaller and smaller. The air heavy. The scent of his cologne clung to your clothes, and your own skin felt warm, musky, invaded by him. His calmness was a cage, and the door was closing.
You turned your face away, jaw tight, forcing out a whisper. "Get off me."
ꫂ❁
For a heartbeat, he stilled. His thumb brushed your jaw again, his smile as soft as ever, but his eyes glinting with something hard. "I'm not hurting you," he said gently, a lie dressed as reassurance. "I'd never hurt you. I'm just holding you until you stop fighting me."
You felt the tears sting your eyes, not from sadness, but from rage, humiliation, disgust.
And still, his voice came like a lullaby, like silk wrapping around your throat: "You'll see. After this, you'll understand. After this, you'll stay. You'll stay because you know deep down you were always meant to. And I'll make sure you never have to run again."
He kissed your cheek this time, slow and lingering, a gesture that might have seemed loving to anyone else but felt soaked in possession. His lips brushed your skin deliberately, his breath hot and damp. "It's okay," he murmured, almost soothing. "You'll thank me later."
The tenderness was worse than if he'd shouted. Worse than if he'd thrown you. It crawled over your skin, sweet and suffocating, a love letter written in poison. And all you could do was fight the scream building in your throat, clutching at the last, fading edges of yourself, praying for a way out.
