princess diaries (yanderes x reader)

𝐈 - 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐎'𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐥

"Dad, Pops, I'm home!" I dropped my keys into a little box by the front door as soon as I stepped into my little house. I took off my sweater and threw it on the couch then headed to the kitchen where I saw Dad looking through the mail and Pops eating spaghetti. Pops nodded at me yet kept slurping noodles.

"Hey, kid, how was school?" Dad looked up and smiled at me.

I shrugged and picked up an apple, "It was okay. My teachers decided to be nice today and not give me a lot of homework."

"Great," Pops spoke up, "that means you can finally work on that history paper you've been procrastinating on."

I stuck my tongue out and bit into the apple. "Ew, gross."

"I thought you liked history." Dad pondered.

"Yeah, but I don't give a crap about some snotty prince who died in Stultania or whatever."

"That's a real country?" Dad placed his elbow on the counter and rested his head on his hand in thought. He eyed his husband who sat across from him who shrugged and mumbled an "I dunno," before continuing to eat spaghetti.

"I think so? Might be between France and Italy but don't quote me on that." I said while chewing my apple.

Dad huffed, then looked at me and said, "Don't eat with your mouth full, you'll choke."

I nodded sarcastically then turned around and whispered, "What if I'm into that?" for no one to hear.

"I'm eating here." Pops answered annoyed.

Okay, for Pops to hear.

"Oops," I threw my apple core away and wandered around. In another room, I yelled, "Where's Khaleesi?"

"Stupid dog's probably out shitting in the backyard." I heard Pops respond, then Dad scolded him for cursing around children.

Stifling a chuckle, I hurried out to the backyard and saw my precious rottweiler, Khaleesi aggressively wrestling with (or rather tearing apart) an old squeaking dog toy resembling what used to be a hedgehog. She's been in my family since I was 8, practically being raised alongside me. Though reaching older age, she was still as energetic as ever. Upon noticing my presence, she dropped the hedgehog and rushed to me, standing on her hindlegs and barking with her tail wagging.

"Aww, hi, baby. Yes, I missed you." I pet her and rubbed her head. "Good thing you didn't shit out here or Pops would be pissed with you. But you're a good girl, you won't shit all over the yard, yeah?"

Khaleesi stared at me with her paws on my thighs and her tongue out.

"Precisely." I confirmed for her.

A distant bell then rang coming from inside the house, most likely being from the front door. Khaleesi perked up at the sound and hopped off of me and ran inside the house. Curious, I followed her to find her barking aggressively at the ringing door while Dad tried to reel her away from it by ordering her off and pulling her back. Khaleesi has always been protective of our family, even at her older age, yet she always followed Dad's commands. I wonder why she didn't right then and there.

"Could you answer the door, kiddo? Lee won't quit it." Dad took Khaleesi back into the backyard, leaving me to open the door.

The doorbell rang again, and my hand twisted the knob and pulled the door back, with the door chain still on, to reveal a man in all black with sunglasses on. He was incredibly tall and big, and I felt like I was standing next to a cardboard cutout of Shaquille O'Neil in The Matrix cosplay.

"Can I help you?" I asked, gawking at him.

He stared down at me through his sunglasses, but I could feel his pressing gaze. "Is this the L/n residence?"

"Um-"

"Yes," Pops interrupted from behind me and returned the big man's stare as I stepped behind him.

"You're Daniel L/n?"

"I'm Keoni L/n, his husband. Why?"

Now I felt like Kevin Hart standing behind Dwayne Johnson, who was currently having an intense staring contest with Shaquille O'Neil - still not comforting but I felt better than being at the door alone.

Surprisingly, Shaq stepped away from the door and uncovered two much shorter middle aged people, a man and a woman, wearing heavy coats despite it being a warm September day. The man had a very fancy mustache and a walking cane, and was stubby but taller than the woman. The woman appeared regal and proud, her strong posture making up for her shorter height compared to the man. They both had scarves around their necks and sunglasses covering their eyes.

The man cleared his throat and said with an accent that sounded like a blend of Italian and French, "Mister L/n, we have very important things to discuss in regards to your daughter."

"She's not for sale, thanks," Pops answered and was about to close the door, but the man had wedged his cane in between the door and the frame before Pops could.

"Funny, you mention that, Mr. L/n, but we have no intention of buying your daughter, and we implore you to let us in and listen to us." The stubby little man spoke, refusing to remove his cane from the doorway. It was then that I noticed the long, black limousine with odd, little flags on the front of the car.

"Please, sir," the woman spoke for once with the same accept as the man and lowered her sunglasses to show e/c eyes that had an eerily haunting resemblance to mine. "This is about your daughter's birth parents."

end.

11/23/2022