Yandere One Shots

Truth Hurts

Monster x Reader
{Blood}

The wealthy man's arm was looped loosely around the young woman's, the two walking into the party as if they were king and queens.
Green and black were her colors, her dress as revealing as it could be for the Victorian period. Her cleavage was showing as well as her shoulders, no cowl to cover. A black feather headpiece adorned her bun and emerald jewels hung from every place they could. Every woman in this room was as green as her dress with envy.
In fact, the whole room was. Yet, the difference was, the woman was called a whore due to their jealousy, but the man a god. It's funny how things were.

Y/N only found it amusing, to walk past and watch them whisper, to catch their glances from around the room. She didn't care. Why would she? It was her job to make the women scorn and the men lust, it was what she was being paid for.
Being an escort in France had paid her well... but here in America? She was a foreign jewel. Untouchable.

With a bored blink, Y/N looked back forward, to see she had been lead to two men, both looking at her.
"Gentleman, I'd like you to meet... mademoiselle Y/N~" Mr. Taylor purred in a French accent he did not have. But she didn't care, his money was all she wanted. He was money.
The men looked to Y/N each with their own desires in their eyes, laid so plainly for Y/N to see, yet they thought they hid it so well.
"Salut, boys, it's a pleasure to meet you two." The h/c hummed kindly, her French accent only making her more appealing to their eyes, wanting something they could not normally have. Men were so easy to read.

Suddenly, her hand was taken and her knuckles were gently kissed by the brunette one, looking up through his lashes at her. Y/N acted as if flattered, as if her heart beat for only him.
Mr. Taylor immediately grew annoyed with this, not wanting the woman he payed for to be... compromised.
"Now... Mr. Smith," Taylor said passive aggressively, "why don't we not overwhelm the lady, hm?" He smiled, but it was tight and tense, earning a playful smirk from the brunette as he pulled away.

"Relax my friend!" He patted Mr. Taylor's shoulder. "I was only giving her a warm, French welcome is all."
Y/N narrowed her eyes, she'd be getting money from Mr. Smith here real soon. She just knew it.

The night continued, the party serving lots and lots of fancy champagne, causing Mr. Taylor and his friends to get drunk.
The young woman rolled her eyes as the men laughed and talked loudly, occasionally grabbing her in places she did not approve of while the whisper of the word 'harlot' floated around the ballroom like a sick dance. She had had enough for the night and slipped out of the estate through a side door.

Dull e/c eyes looked over the great rose garden that had been planted, the bushes thick and the roses crimsons red, not a single one wilted.
The escort walked forward, deciding to get lost in here rather than deal with more drunk, ogling men. Their words and touches did not affect her, but after a while, it can be tiring. Even for someone with as cold a heart as her.

The faint sound of crickets sounded throughout the moonlit roses, the sound of the party a distant echo, the gravel crunching under her feet being the only hint a human was out here.
Slowly, she walked by the rose bushes, gently brushing against their delicate petals, feeling their soft touch on her fingers. She frowned, before pushing her hand deeper into the bush, the thorns starting to catch at her wrist.
She didn't want soft touches, they were deceiving. They were cruel.
Her fingers pushed into the thorns.
Pain was real. Pain was honest. Pain was truthful.