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depravitycentral · 5 months

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Yandere! Keigo Takami General Profile

Yandere! Keigo Takami x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of non-con, implied masturbation, possessiveness, lots and lots of guilt, Stockholm Syndrome/you've kind of lost it by the end, mentions of eating/eating healthily, mentions of murder, Dabi makes an appearance and is directly responsible for your kidnapping, insinuation that Keigo's jerked it to some rather icky nasty stuff of yours, non-consensual photography, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 15K (genuinely how)

DARLING PROFILE:

Smart

If Keigo was pressed to describe his type, the very first thing that he would blurt out is intelligent. He wants a woman that can match him in terms of intellect. Someone who can follow his quick-paced jokes, his sarcasm, someone that keeps up with him, really.

He finds it wildly attractive when a woman is confident in her own knowledge, and ideally his darling would be knowledgeable in an area he knows next to nothing about.

He likes hearing them spiel on about something they’re passionate about – and he'll be listening, intently, with a hand under his chin and eyes glossed over because while their words are interesting, watching them is really what’s fully engaging him. There’s something wonderful about the way that they’re able to answer all the questions he prompts them with, never missing a beat and fully dissecting his question before giving their best thoughts back.

It’s just wonderful, and although he’d never divulge any sensitive information to them out of fear for their safety, there’s something euphoric about knowing that if he really wanted to, if he could, he thinks they would understand how he feels.

He thinks they could understand how careful he has to be, how he has to think out his every move and word dozens of times in advance, making sure everything is exactly how it should be.

And really, this helps Keigo feel less lonely – it’s less polarizing and solitary if he knows that his darling could support him, even if he won’t tell them anything.

Just the knowledge makes him giddy, his heart beating faster because it feels so very good to not be alone.

Witty

Similarly to their intelligence, Keigo needs a darling who’s able to dish out what he serves. A witty, silver-tongued darling would have him constantly on his toes, finding that speaking with them is entertaining and leaves him wanting more.

His darling isn’t boring, or a drag to speak to – their stories and commentary leave him on the edge of his seat, growing addicted to their voice and finding himself wanting more more more, eagerly asking all sorts of follow-up questions that he normally wouldn’t bother with.

And really, this is one of the first signs that his feelings for them have ventured beyond friendly – he’s never been this invested in someone before, never wanting to interact with them so badly, never wanting to be around them and hear their voice and watch their lips move to form syllables.

He finds his darling’s sense of humor to perfectly match his own, leaving him winded and often more flustered than he’d care to admit.

They’re just so cute – the knowing little look they send him when they crack a bad pun that leaves him chuckling, the way their face scrunches up when they make an accidentally dirty joke.

It’s endearing, really, and it only makes him fall for them harder, his desperation to see them growing stronger with every passing day because god, they’re just so perfect.

Civilian

While Keigo is capable of developing an obsession with a fellow hero, it’s unlikely.

Part of what draws him to his darling is their innocence – they don’t understand the realities of their society, how violent and horrible the darkest members are, how much crime and unrest fills the city streets right under their nose.

It’s the way his darling is able to be so happy and carefree in the face of such terror that draws Keigo in – they practically radiate positivity, talking about their own mundane life and managing to lull Keigo into a false reality that he, too is simply a civilian.

That he isn’t a double agent with a non-existent sense of self, that he isn’t bursting with stress and anxiety at any given time. It’s a nice reprieve, really, and it’s one that he slowly begins craving. The moments of peace and tranquility addict him, causing him to view his darling as a sort of stress-reliever, someone he can go to when things become too heavy, too dark, too much.

He wants to hear about everything happening in their lives – their crazy neighbors, annoying coworkers, the cat they saw crossing the street, the latest thing broken in their apartment. He wants to know about the mundane things, the things he’s never experienced and never will experience.

His darling is a sort of portal to a totally different world – what he could have had if he hadn’t been born into the family he was, if he hadn’t had inherited his quirk, if he hadn’t have done this or that.

His darling represents possibility, a side of Keigo that he desperately, desperately wishes he could embrace – which is why he slowly begins fantasizing about a future with his darling, always complete with a nice little house, a few children, a pretty ring on their finger, and complete domestic bliss.

It’s a dirty fantasy to him, really, something far off and dreamy, but with every interaction he has with his darling, it only stronger, and he only grows more desperate.

Empathetic

Keigo needs someone who is able to see past the layers of persona he puts on as Hawks and instead see him. Keigo Takami. He needs someone who’s able to listen to his words and comfort him, to see the frightened, abused boy he still is at heart.

The idea of a darling who’s able to understand him on such a deep, raw level leaves him feeling equal parts terrified and relieved, because he’s never really had someone there for him before.

The concept of a companion, of someone to rely on and love and cherish is such a foreign concept to him, and although he finds the idea enticing (having watched more than his fair share of rom-coms and trashy romance movies), Keigo doesn’t believe that he’ll ever get to experience it.

His life is too busy and hectic, and having a woman to hold and love and protect would add too much unnecessary strain. Except once he meets his darling and he feels seen for the first time, things begin changing. No longer does he find himself alone, internally grappling with his real identity and his hero identity, slowly losing himself with all the stress and obligations towards the commission.

No, he’s not alone because he has them – his darling, the one who’s smile and a simple brush of their hand leaves him breathless, feeling like a little kid with a sense of wonder and hopefulness and love that makes his heart pound in his chest.

A darling that’s able to incite these feelings in him is really the key to catching his attention in the first place – a cruel fate, really, considering his darlings is only trying to help him, only trying to help reassure him that he doesn’t have to be the ever strong, ever cool Hawks in front of everybody.

It’s a noble thought, really – but ultimately one that dooms his darling, forcing the blond to latch onto them with incredible strength and never, ever letting go.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

It takes quite a while for Keigo’s obsession to form. He’s never really had the time nor desire to get close enough to someone to even consider a relationship, and while he’s a had a one-night stand or two, that one night of intimacy is the closest he’s ever gotten to someone. He’s just not emotionally available, and for very good reason – he’s lived his entire adult life (and much of his youth) completely under the Commission’s control, his every desire, action, and thought controlled by others.

It’s sad and some part of him knows it, pitying himself even, but Keigo’s just not interested in developing any kind of romantic relationship with anyone. He doesn’t have time, and there’s a small part of him that questions if he’s even able to form that kind of a connection with someone. A childhood full of abuse, training and emotional neglect has fucked him up in more ways than one, and he’s genuinely unsure if he’s even capable of something like love, if he’d even be able to give someone a healthy relationship, his heart.

He swears off romance, finding it trivial and just not something for him, but things begin changing the longer he knows you, the longer he’s around you and spends time with you. His feelings are purely platonic at first – you’re funny, someone he finds himself actually getting along with and not dreading seeing, and it’s always a pleasure when he happens to run into you when he’s out on patrol or just wandering around the city in a rare moment of free time.

(And at this point, it genuinely is random – there’s no pre-planned meetings, no orchestrated attempts at just so happening to run into you, no attempt to follow you or know your location at all hours of the day. It’s just fate, really.)

He slowly warms up to you, deciding that he actually really likes you, and as the weeks turn into months, there’s this feeling that starts tugging at his heart. It’s this strange phenomenon where when he’s lost in thought, planning out his next moves in making sure he balances his double agent lifestyle, there’s this lingering thought of you.

He’ll gear up in his hero suit, shrugging the jacket on over his wings and checking himself over in the mirror, only to let his hand linger over his jacket lapel. He’d never noticed the small speck of blood on the tan material – had you? It was surely an enemy’s, some criminal that he’d roughed up a bit too badly before capturing, but it was still an unfortunate sight. His lips quirk down a bit as he thinks of whether you’d noticed it when you’d ran into him at the end of his patrol yesterday – you hadn’t mentioned anything, but maybe you were just being polite.

Something about the thought of you seeing him with blood on him leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

It’s not until a notification on his phone gets his pocket buzzing that he snaps out of his small reverie, blinking at his reflection and feeling a small bit of confusion settle over him. Why was he thinking of you? Surely it wasn’t your blood, and you hadn’t been present during any of his fights yesterday – why had the thought of you popped into his mind?

Keigo’s not sure, but he pushes aside the thought as he jumps off his balcony, the wind catching his wings and letting him soar towards the Hero Commission building.

He doesn’t give it much thought, but then it happens again the next day; he’s out on patrol, flying a good ten feet above the skyline of this particular neighborhood, when he sees a woman walking with a bouquet of flowers. They’re pretty, he supposes – roses mixed with some greenery and tulips, the kind of perfect bouquet you’d see in a rom-com or some cheesy movie.

He smiles a bit, seeing the way the woman was sighing down at them with a dreamy look on her face, and before he can stop himself there’s this flash in his mind of you with flowers in your arms. They’d be a different color, of course – your favorite color, and maybe even a different flower. Whatever one was your favorite, that’s what he’d get you.

He freezes as the last thought flits through his mind, his wings freezing too and causing him to falter a bit mid-air, desperately flapping them to stay afloat. What the hell?

He doesn’t like it, at first – the way you’re slowly seeping into every aspect of his thoughts, always some little twinge of you sitting at the sidelines, an idle thought of wow, you’d look great with that shirt on or a small question of would she like this?

It makes him uncomfortable, because he doesn’t know how to deal with this strange new development – sure, he's heard all about love and falling for someone, because while he may not look like it, he’s watched his fair share of chick flicks and raunchy romances.

But still, this is different – it’s different because it’s him, because it’s you. And it’s different because Keigo notices, as time passes, that none of those films or stories mention just how all-encompassing the feeling is, or how it makes him want to swing by your apartment every night, flying outside your window and letting those honey eyes scan the room to find your familiar figure.

They don’t mention anything about the desire that eats him up at night, how he seems to see you in everything around him – his pillow is soft, but he’s sure your stomach would be softer. His dining chair is comfortable, but having you sit in his lap would make it more comfortable.

The ratty shirt with the massive holes cut in the back is loose on him, but where it looks sloppy on him, you’d manage to look cute, he’s sure. It scares him, if he’s being honest, because he feels his control over himself slowly slipping through his fingers – he can’t stop himself from checking over you when he knows you’re at work, repeatedly flying through the area when he really doesn’t need to, just to make sure there’s no villainous activity.

(And always keeping an eye out for you when he knows your shift is over – he always gets too nervous and chickens out, but one of these days he swears he’s going to swoop down and pick you up, holding you in his arms as he flies around with you, chuckling in your ear and pulling you flush against his body under the guise of ‘safety’ – just please ignore the hardness you feel against your back or the labored breaths in your ear.)

It scares him that he can’t stop himself from suddenly paying much more attention to your every word, listening to you like you’re spouting holy epiphanies as you tell him about your coworkers or this new film you watched, biting his lip and nodding along, letting his eyes occasionally flick down to your mouth as quickly as he can, just so you won’t notice.

Thus starts a troubling pattern – Keigo starts slowly craving learning as much as he can about you, because with every thought that pops up into his head, he finds his knowledge about you is sorely lacking. He doesn’t know what your favorite flower is – he can’t get you that bouquet he was fantasizing of.

He doesn’t know where your favorite take-out place is – he can’t surprise you with dinner on nights he can tell you’re tired. (He can tell because he’d followed you home from the air and noticed your slouched shoulders and the way you’d looked on the verge of tears when you’d stubbed your toe on the uneven sidewalk, but still.)

He doesn’t know what size shoe you wear – he can’t pick you up those new shoes he thought you’d like, or get you a new pair of those fuzzy, warm socks he noticed were looking a little ragged in your laundry bin.

He doesn’t know what your ideal date is, so he can’t plan one with the knowledge that you’d be as happy as humanly possibly, all smiley and bashful and shy, all because you’re with Keigo himself.

It frustrates him, and he figures it wouldn’t hurt to look into you just a bit more – he’s got access to all kinds of information, security clearances associated with his status as both a hero, an agent of the Hero Commission, and an agent of the Meta Liberation Army making pretty much any piece of information he wants to get his hands on accessible. He’s getting access to your computer and phone, sifting through your search histories, contacts, even your bank accounts and government information.

(How else would he be able to start depositing occasional bits of money into your account, gifts he knows you won’t notice because you never check your transaction histories? You may not know about them, but he does, and it makes him feel good, important when he’s gifting you a hundred dollars here and there, making sure you have a cushion so that you can spoil yourself and indulge in all the things he knows you want to, but you don’t have the funds to do so.)

He’s designating a specific feather to slip into your purse or pocket, attached to your person so that he can track where you’re going, feeling the vibration against your back when you’re talking, when you’re shivering because you’re cold, when you’re standing or sitting or laying or moaning and gasping and shaking –

(He’ll always stiffen up when the feather he’d managed to slip into your jacket starts vibrating with the sound of your cries, his cheeks and neck feeling unbearably hot as he starts to sweat, wings twitching uncontrollably and rushing to the nearest bathroom, clutching the sink and grimacing because god, you’re moaning so damn much, you must be touching yourself and he’s not even there to see it, not able to watch you fall apart – maybe you’re even thinking of him, of how he’d fuck you nice and deep, pushing your knees up to your ears and groaning your name over and over while he fills you full of his cum – He’s in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time, and when he comes back with his pants just slightly askew, Dabi will cock a brow but not make a comment.)

He’s even going so far as to set up cameras in your apartment, having broken in one day when you weren’t home, making sure they’re placed in inanimate objects so you don’t find one and get scared.

(Though, he can’t deny that the image of you running to him in fear, crying and clutching onto him and telling him that someone’s stalking you has a very nice ring to it… Ultimately, though, he knows it’s best for you to not take on the stress and burden of knowing your every move is being watched, recorded, stored onto his phone and computer so that when he can’t sleep at night or is particularly stressed from all the lying and sneaking around, he’ll have something pretty and sweet to look at, something calming and relaxing, something that makes him sigh and his lips quirk up into a small smile as his thumb rubs the technology, imagining it was your cheek.)

It’s a slow slide into his obsessive tendencies, but once his feelings for you have formed in full, Keigo is a lost cause – and once you end up trapped with him, forced to depend on him for everything, this trait will only present itself more strongly, becoming harder and harder to ignore because he won’t bother hiding it anymore.

You’ll be scared and apprehensive every time he arrives with a glass of water right when you were beginning to feel thirsty, but really, you should know better. You’ll be unnerved when he presents a new bottle of shampoo to you right as you start itching to shower, but it’s inevitable.

Keigo knows you better than you know yourself, after all – and he just wants to keep you happy, keep you safe. He's just in love, and doesn’t he deserve someone to love?

Doesn’t he deserve to be happy too, to finally, finally have something all to himself, something that’s his?

Protective

Frankly, though Keigo hides it well, his protectiveness over you is unbearable. He’s a seasoned pro-hero who spends a good amount of time with villains, and as a result he’s more than aware of just how dark of a place the world really is. He has intimate knowledge of just how many horrible people are hiding in plain sight, all the violent and horrific crimes they commit, and just how often they manage to escape unscathed.

And of course, he also knows just how many innocent victims get wrapped up in their schemes, often resulting in injuries and trauma and even death. And while Keigo generally is disapproving of murder, he’s even more staunchly against the concept when it’s your death, when you’re the lifeless body that’s laying on the cold, hard cement, blood pooling around your head and your pretty eyes staring aimlessly above, your fingers cold and your neck bruised and oh god oh god –

The realization that the way he feels for you has wandered into romantic territory is the same moment that he realizes that you could very easily be one of the civilians he was just a hair too slow to save.

He’s helping an older woman crawl out of a pile of rubble left behind from a stand-off with a villain, part of the building having collapsed in on itself, and all of a sudden he sees something sticking out from below a large, cement cylinder – a foot, stained red at the ankle, and immediately he feels sick.

Evacuations aren’t always successful, and oh, look at that – the foot’s complexion is oddly familiar, and he swears he’s seen that nail polish on someone else’s fingers before. Bile actually rises up the back of his throat as he realizes that everything about this unfortunate soul reminds him of you, even down to the hair dotting her leg. It’s a hard pill to swallow as images of you bloody and bruised flash through his mind, each one making his chest tighter than the last.

It leaves his fists clenching and his jaw tight enough to make his teeth hurt, and it’s in that moment that his body almost seems to operate on autopilot – the images of you battered and too injured to be helped are still swirling through his mind as his feet leave the ground, his wings beating faster and faster with every second, his desperation to reach you strong enough to get his heart practically racing out of his chest.

The wind is whistling in his ears as he flies to your apartment, his muscles aching from the exertion, his lip caught between his teeth as he mentally chants that you’re okay, you’re okay, please God you have to be okay.

It’s only once he lands on your apartment balcony and sees you clumsily doing your dishes in the kitchen sink that relief floods his system, his entire body sagging against the railing as he finally lets out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding back.

You’re okay.

You’re alive and breathing, and as his eyes scan every exposed inch of your skin, he can’t find even a speck of blood. A hand comes up to rest over his heart, and Keigo swallows, Adam’s apple visibly bobbing with the weight of the motion.

He spends longer than he’d care to admit on your balcony that evening, those yellow eyes watching like a hawk as you move about in your tiny apartment, mentally assessing each and every movement. You’re pretty like this, he thinks – you’re entirely unaware that you’re being watched, but there’s something about seeing you be so natural and free that’s exhilarating, making his heart pound and his cheeks flush pink because this is what you’re really like when no one’s watching. It makes his chest ache to see it, his gloved fingers reaching out and pressing against the glass of your sliding door, the urge almost unbearable to be with you and hear what he’s sure is you singing along to some horrible song.

He’s idly wondering if you cook all your meals, and that’s why you have so many dishes – would you cook for him? He's a lousy chef and frankly a bit picky about his food, but he’d eat anything you make for him with a bright smile and trembling fingers, eagerly wolfing down the food and being nearly brought to tears because you made this for him.

He’s imagining the way you’d let him hold you at night, sharing a bed with you and your body pressed snugly beside his, an arm draped over your side and your soft breaths tickling the expanse of his chest. It’s a pleasant thought, but all too soon his phone is buzzing and he’s brought out of his reverie, glancing at the time and sucking in a sharp breath because it’s been an hour and a half of him just sitting here, gaping like an idiot at you.

Embarrassment creeps up his spine, but before he jumps off the balcony and heads to the Commission to report back, he spares a final glance over his shoulder at you, and the smallest of smiles sits on his lips, something warm blooming in his chest.

But from that moment onwards, Keigo slowly becomes more and more consumed by the idea of just how truly unprepared you are for any sort of villain encounter. You have a quirk, sure, but it’s minor and not especially useful, and it certainly wouldn’t help if you were to be cornered in some dark alleyway, or if you were to hear your front door’s lock being picked, or if you were to be caught in the crossfire of a villain robbing a bank.

And it’s small things that remind him of these facts – he'll see you trip over seemingly nothing, losing your footing and stumbling for just a moment, and immediately fear is sitting heavy in his gut because god, you’d be dead meat running from a villain. It’s endearing, of course, but it’s scary.

He hears you giggle sheepishly and rub the back of your neck as you admit to your friend over lunch that you’d forgot to lock your door when you left for groceries yesterday, his skin and feathers bristling and a small prick of anger bubbling inside him because are you asking to be the next tragedy covered on the news?

He takes you out for dinner (that he hopes you’ll think of as a date, even if the restaurant is a simple diner that he knows you love) and sees a bandaid on your finger, his voice a touch lower than his previous joking tone as he asks if you’re okay, did you hurt yourself? Your response of how you’d accidentally caught the sharp edge of a razor in the shower makes his entire body tense, both at the idea of you in the shower and at the idea of your blood being drawn, of the way you’d probably hissed and bit your lip, the pain acute. You’ll notice the way he freezes up, this look on his face that you can’t quite describe, but soon he’ll be flashing you that familiar grin, taking a sip of his soda and telling you that unshaved is better, hasn’t anyone ever told you that?

(He likes the way you roll your eyes and pretend that you aren’t embarrassed by his comment – at least, he hopes that’s how you’re feeling, because the comment made him himself a little hot under the collar.)

Everything you do is a reminder to him that you’re weak, and it’s this constant mantra that moves Keigo to take his own measures to ensure your safety. He’ll offer to walk you home from work every day, waving off your concerns by telling you that his patrols end right around that time anyways so it’s no big deal.

(They don’t – they tend to end much earlier, but this way he can fly around for a bit, trail you from the air and keep his eyes trained only on you, all with the luxury of lying when you notice his presence about how his patrol areas happen to line up with the district you work in.)

He’ll tell you that he’s sure your cooking is good, but he knows what place has the absolute best lunches – and would you look at that, it’s not too far from your apartment! Maybe you’d be interested in getting lunch with him sometimes? He knows the owner pretty well because he’s always in there, maybe he could even get the both of you a loyal customer discount.

(He’d only started eating there because a late night of watching you through your apartment windows had led to his stomach growling too much to bear, and he’d strolled into the twenty-four-hour establishment absolutely ravenous for food, still glowing from having watched your sleeping face.)

He’s even making unsolicited, subtle remarks about your own habits designed to get you to change some of your more problematic traits – he’ll tell you that eating breakfast is actually very good for you, he’s heard that people who skip breakfast tend to have bowel problems.

(It’s delivered as a joke and you snort because he’d been a little graphic with a bad pun thrown in there, and as Keigo basks in the sight of your smile and the sound of your laughter, he hopes that you’ll remember the sentiment – you need to be eating properly, after all.)

He’s telling you that crime rates have been awfully high in your neighborhood lately – it’s recommended for all civilians to avoid speaking to anyone on the streets – just for safety purposes, of course.

(And because it dramatically reduces the number of men you interact with, something that makes both his protectiveness and possessiveness cool ever so slightly because that means one less man that you could meet and fall for and want and love-)

And why shouldn’t you believe everything that he says? He’s the number two hero, a man who’s saved more lives than you could imagine – how could he not be the authority on safety? Who are you to doubt anything he tells you, any advice he gives you?

And Keigo knows this – which is why he’ll start pushing further and further with time, trying to convince you to drop anything dangerous at all; did you know that more people cut themselves with knives than with all other cutting tools combined? You should really be careful, you know – besides, sometimes recipes are better with whole tomatoes!

(Really, he just wants to avoid seeing a knife in your hands – you’re not trustworthy with something so sharp, even if the sight of you in the kitchen slaving over the stove is strangely adorable, strangely right.)

Did you know that most animal attacks are from dogs? Maybe you shouldn’t consider getting that cute puppy you’d been gushing about – you just never know.

(Really, Keigo’s just worried that you’ll end up spending all your time and attention with said puppy, leaving him with only the most meager scraps that won’t be nearly enough to satisfy him, and while he’s serious about the dog attacks, he’s mostly just selfish. Plus, an animal companion would make slipping through your window late at night almost impossible.)

Did you know that the vast majority of murder victims are women? You should probably take him up on his offer to be your personal chaperone – consider it a favor for a friend, he’d told you.

(Though he’d been gritting his teeth as he said the word ‘friend’, even the feel of it on his tongue making something ugly twist in his gut. The way he feels for you certainly isn’t friendly – it can’t be, not when he’s imagining waking up with you every morning, the way your lips would taste, how you’d look on your knees staring up at him while you gag and choke and suck so hard your cheeks hollow out.)

And once you’ve been kidnapped, this trait is only furthered, his paranoia eating away at him because he knows you’ll be rebellious, that you’ll want to lash out and hurt yourself and hurt him, and just the thought leaves him buzzing with anxiety, stress eating away at him because he absolutely refuses to let you get injured in any way.

You have to stay pristine – his gorgeous, precious partner that he loves, the only woman who’s ever made him feel something so strong. You have to be okay – because if you aren’t, then he isn’t either, and the only thing more dangerous than a powerful, cunning man living a double life is a broken, apathetic man who wants everyone to know just how little life means now that his other half is gone.

Controlling

His controlling tendencies manifest as a result of both his extreme protectiveness, and as a sort of coping mechanism from the lack of control he has over his own life. He does love you – at least, he thinks this is love.

(If it’s not love, then Keigo doesn’t know what the fuck this could possibly be – what else would cause him to be thinking of you at all hours of the day, his body physically aching and yearning to be with you? What else could cause his breathing to hitch and become so uneven when you’re in his presence, his quirk nearly out of his control as his feathers ruffle and flutter and come down around you like some sort of cage?)

He loves you, sure, his obsession festering into something darker, deeper, more unmanageable and impossible to come back from, but there’s a part of him that begins exerting this control over you as a way to satisfy himself.

By dictating your life, it’s almost like he’s dictating his own – like he gets to choose what happens, like he has self-autonomy, like he isn’t just a puppet being used by others. It’s euphoric, cathartic, and this only furthers his dependence on you – not only do you make him feel something warm and gooey and suffocating in his chest, but you also make him feel calmer, more grounded, more whole.

But as lovely as it is for Keigo to finally get a grip on his own mental health, this has rather disastrous effects on you – even before he’s stolen you away, these controlling tendencies are present. Of course, they’re difficult to spot when Keigo is still just the handsome, flirty hero who seems to have a soft spot for little old you. You’re in a metaphorical honeymoon phase at that point, beyond flattered that someone like him has noticed someone like you.

And so, you don’t really notice the way that he tells you to stop hanging out with a particular friend that you keep rambling on about. They’re going through a hard time, you’re sure of it – it’s the only reason they’ve been so snappy and distant lately, and it’s only natural for you to bear your burdens to Keigo, telling him how they were rude to you last weekend, how they’ve been ignoring your calls, how you’re at a loss because what could possibly be happening?

And Keigo will grit his teeth, his smile tight and visibly strained as he clutches onto his coffee cup with white knuckles, eventually telling you wow, that really sucks, some friend. Maybe you should stop hanging out with them – obviously they aren’t as invested in the friendship as you are, sound like they’re not as good of a friend as you are, frankly.

It’s good advice, all things considered, but it’s presented in a way that flatters you, that makes you sound like you’re the reasonable, good friend and they’ve simply dropped the ball. And so, you’ll follow his advice – that friend isn’t contacted again, and Keigo personally sees to it that you’ve blocked them, having gone in and manually done it on your phone while you were fast asleep.

You won’t notice how he makes subtle comments about what you should order when you’re at a restaurant together – he’ll never make comments about your weight, but he’ll prompt you to eat something healthier, something more, something that’ll leave you happy but nourish you as well. The comments are again difficult to spot – when he opens up the menu, he’ll pipe up and tell you that they’ve got that salad you were talking about the other day – you know the one? Yeah, sounds good – do you want to split it? I think we should get some extra chicken on top, too.

(Once the salad arrives, of course, you’ll be eating the majority – Keigo will nibble at it, picking at it and making a bit show of always having his fork packed with the greens – and a lot of the chicken – but you’ll be the one shoveling food into your mouth, feeling full by the time Keigo’s eaten roughly ten bites.)

You won’t notice it much at all, really – which is why it’s such a shock to one day wake up in Keigo’s luxury, king-sized bed, the soft white sheets smelling like fresh laundry and the pretty red, silky pajamas he’d changed you into feeling foreign on your body.

But just like his more needy and clingy tendencies, Keigo’s controlling nature will start to show itself once he’s stolen you away. There’s no point in hiding how he feels now, is there? You’re aware that he’s in love with you (he tells you every fucking day, after all, with a hushed voice that sounds much too vulnerable for you to bear and a barrage of kisses along your jawline and neck), so what’s the point in dialing down some of the more questionable aspects of his infatuation?

He’d kidnapped you out of paranoia, and now that you’re with him constantly, he’s able to really, fully control your actions and the things you’re allowed to do. He’s not too dehumanizing with it, but there’s a lot of limits on things that you normally wouldn’t even think about – you’re allowed to watch TV, but only for an hour a day and only specific channels and programs he’s approved.

(Generally, the cutoff for what he considers ‘appropriate’ for you are things without graphic violence, nothing terribly sad, and nothing that would cause you tension or stress. So, all horror movies are off the table, all dramas, all action films, really only leaving the things he wouldn’t mind watching with you – romances, mostly, and the occasional film with much more erotica than he realized. His face will turn red as the actors moan and whisper hushed I love you’s, his yellow eyes nervously flicking over to you from his spot beside you, his fingers itching to reach out to you, the blanket covering you both suddenly feeling much too hot.)

You’re allowed to eat what you want, but with a few very strict guidelines – you can’t have anything over a certain amount of grams of sugar, nor are you allowed to consume anything that isn’t paired with a vegetable. He’s forcing you to eat protein, and if you don’t eat meat he’ll count out a specific number of nuts you must consume that day, just to make sure you’re getting proper nutrition.

He especially loves if you’ll let him feed the nuts to you, or any food, really – he likes to feel needed and helpful, and to have you looking at him with those pretty eyes, the fork pressed against your lips while you swallow and thank him for the food… It makes Keigo’s breathing get a bit heavy, his mouth watering because god, he wants to use that fork after you, would you think that’s weird?

He’s not taking away any of your basic privileges like dressing yourself or using the restroom alone, but Keigo has a way of making you feel pathetic without even trying to; there’s just something about the way he looks at you, all soft smiles and wide eyes, his palms always clammy and nervous, his touch always hesitant but eager.

He won’t explicitly create a schedule for your daily life under his thumb, but you’ll essentially be in one, anyways. He leaves for work in the mornings, parting from you with a very, very tonguey kiss, and while he’s gone on his patrol all day, you’ll cycle through reading a few of the (pre-approved) books he’d gifted you, practicing your art skills, practicing your musical skills, and staring out the fifteen-story window, the one-way, bulletproof glass not giving you even the option to crack it if you wanted to brave the fall.

You’ll be stagnant, really, something that Keigo doesn’t appreciate at all once he notices it happening, but it doesn’t change the fact that he absolutely can’t relinquish control – you’re his, and even if you’re unhappy, Keigo will be damned if he gives up caring for you and making your decisions for you. That’s love, isn’t it? He knows what’s best for you, so why can’t you see that? Why do you fight him and tell him he’s a monster, a horrible, horrible man?

He just wants to keep you safe and happy and loved, so why are you making it so fucking difficult?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

While Keigo isn’t too terribly possessive as far as yanderes go, he really only has so much self-control. Of course, he doesn’t like seeing other men around you, those already narrow eyes of his growing even sharper and smaller because he does not like this.

But what sets Keigo apart from others is that while he’s enraged, anxiety and anger prickling at his skin and causing goosebumps to litter his entire body, he’s smart. He’s good at reading people, at fully assessing situations and making split seconds analyses, and that’s exactly what he’ll do whenever he sees you in a situation where another man is showing interest.

He’ll examine the man’s face – is he smiling? Laughing? Serious? Frowning?

Smiling and laughing generally means one of two things – either the man hopes to become friends or acquaintances with you, or he’s flirting and he thinks it’s going very well. Keigo can’t decide which option he hates more.

A serious expression or a frown normally means that the man is trying to create a mysterious air – to embody hypermasculinity, to try and lure you in by looking the part of the strong, dominant man who’s only weakness is you. It makes Keigo cringe, his nose scrunching up in a wince as he thinks of how terribly stupid this man must be to think you’d fall for something like that – he obviously doesn’t know you or your intellect, at least not like Keigo does. Nobody knows you like Keigo does – not even yourself.

He’s looking at the man’s body language – if he’s leaning towards you, he probably has less than innocent intentions, either trying to intimidate you or get close to you to fulfill some sick, perverted urge.

(An urge that Keigo knows all too well – the urge to feel you, to touch you, to smell you, to have your skin against his. It’s an urge that he’s had to fight more times than he can count, stopping himself from scooping your into his arms and burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands roaming every inch of your body because god, you smell good and you’re so fucking pretty and your voice is like heaven to his ears and you feel too damn good pressed against him like this and fuck you drive him absolutely insane.)

If the man has his hands in his pockets, that generally signals to Keigo that he’s not as confident at this as he’d like you to believe, showing the hero that the man is more than aware that you’re wildly out of his league, that really the man should have absolutely no business speaking with you.

Keigo’s noticing the distance between your body and the stranger’s – if it’s more than three feet, he’s able to take a small, minimally relieved sigh because at least the man isn’t likely to try something. But if he’s closer to you, dangerously close to being in your space and making you feel uncomfortable, immediately Keigo’s wings are flapping, the movements harsh and unconscious as his fists tighten and he grits his teeth because he’ll be damned if he lets anyone make you uncomfortable.

And he’s analyzing your body language, too, of course – if you like the interaction, if you’re pleased by the attention, if you’re scared, if you want to leave, even if you want to leave with the stranger himself. And while Keigo wishes he was wrong, the moments where you actually seem to be enjoying the flirting of a stranger make him bristle, a deep scowl settling on his face while insecurity and panic grip his heart because he has to stop this before it's too late – before you let yourself get wooed by another man before Keigo even gets the chance to fully earn your trust and adoration.

Seeing you approached by potential rivals for your love really brings out the worst side of Keigo – it brings out all the skills the Commission drilled into him, those eyes of his dissecting the other man like he’s merely a slab of meat, the blond finding every possible point of weakness in the man’s stature or attitude, just so Keigo can understand the full scope of what he’s competing with. Just so that Keigo can understand exactly how he can be better than this loser – how he can impress you and get you acting all bashful and dismissive of his witty flirting just like you should be.

Jealousy isn’t too pretty on Keigo, and while he won’t just blindly murder any man that steals your attention for even a moment.

(He’d lose his hero status very quickly, no matter how much he sometimes wants to send a feather clean through their neck, slicing their head off and feeling not a smidge of remorse because now he’ll finally stop running his mouth at you when you’ve clearly already been chosen to be Hawks’s woman – the number two’s sweet, important little partner that he absolutely cannot lose).

His patrol had felt incredibly long today – no large villain sightings, with only a few petty muggers making the time pass. Keigo sighs, wings flapping and wind whipping in his ears as he eagerly scans the streets below.

Normally, you’d be walking to the grocery store right around now – he’d noticed you were low on eggs, so it was only a matter of time before you braved the cold autumn air. Suspicion immediately pricks along Keigo’s spine, however, as he slowly flies along the path that you take to the store. You’re no where in sight – he doesn’t see your familiar jacket or notice the way the sunlight glistens off your hair, and immediately something uncomfortable is settling in his gut.

This wasn’t like you – you’d told him once that you prefer this time of day for your shopping because the store is the least crowded, and Keigo knows how you feel about interacting with strangers. And yet, you’re missing – something that makes him immediately pick up his speed, brows knitting together and his lower lip caught between his teeth. Eager eyes scan every sidewalk as he quickly makes his way to your apartment complex, every second that he doesn’t see you only furthering the feeling of dread slowly eating at him.

He’s near the point of whipping out his phone to call you and check the tracker he’d installed into your phone when he lets out an audible sigh of relief, having spotted your familiar form on the sidewalk below. You’re only a few blocks from your apartment at this point – and with a look of disgust, Keigo identifies the reason why.

There’s a man with you.

You’re standing and speaking with him, tucked away at the corner of the sidewalk, and immediately the feeling of panic is replaced by anger, his shoulders tensing up. As he swoops down and lands on the top of the building above you, he cranes his neck to get a better look at this man. Keigo’s never seen him before – you’ve never interacted with him in all the months he’s been watching you, leading him to believe that this man is a stranger.

Keigo taps his foot impatiently, trying to decide if this is good news or bad news. On the one hand, it’s always good news to know that you don’t have many men in your life – Keigo should be the only one, really, the only person, even, not just man.

But it also means that this stranger probably stopped you to strike up a conversation, which can only means two things – either the man is asking an innocent question, or he’s interested in you. Interested in you, as in wanting to date you, to kiss your pretty lips and hear you whisper those three words and bend you in half and make you scream and moan and gush-

Keigo grits his teeth, left eye twitching slightly at the mere thought of this man being brazen enough to approach you like this. And based off the way he keeps steadily stepping closer to you and you keep subtly shifting away from him, Keigo suddenly understands exactly what’s going on.

He hesitates for only a moment, a small pang of doubt registering in the back of his mind (wondering if this is how you look when you’re with Keigo himself, that annoying insecurity revolving around anything romantic and anything with you once again filling him with false worries), before he’s jumping from the rooftop, landing with a small grunt onto the sidewalk a few feet away from the two of you.

Clearing his throat, he walks with a bit more urgency than normal towards you, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning in.

What’re we talking about? Keigo asks, yellow eyes fixed on the man, any semblance of a smile gone from his face. His chest is puffed out ever so slightly, wings spread to make his physical presence as big as possible, to make him as intimidating as possible. Immediately you’re jumping, slightly embarrassed and slightly relieved at Keigo’s sudden presence. He feels you relax slightly against him and tries to ignore the way his throat goes dry and his pupils dilate – he’ll relive the memory of you feeling safe around him later tonight, but now’s not the time.

The man steps back immediately, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking at the hero sheepishly, guilt written all over his face. Keigo scoffs under his breath, examining the man’s face in closer detail. He’s somewhat attractive, and that same nagging voice comes back, idly wondering if you’d prefer brunettes like this man over blondes like Keigo, or if you preferred slightly taller men, because this stranger is easily a few inches taller than the hero. He frows, biting the inside of his cheek and willing the thoughts to go away – at least until he’s sorted this out.

Oh, Hawks, hey man, I didn’t – we’re not talkin’ about anything. Nice to meet you, miss. The man fumbles for his words, before quickly backpedaling and practically running the opposite direction, peeking over his shoulder every once in a while and wincing.

Keigo holds his ground, not moving, keeping those eyes locked on the man’s figure until he’s eventually a good block or two away. Only then does Keigo turn to you, his cheeks a little pink as he flashes you a smile. He’s still got his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and he gives you a small squeeze that he hopes isn’t too forward – he wouldn’t want you to get the idea that he’s after the same thing that stranger had been.

(Though really, isn’t he? He just wants all of you, not only your body – and he can take much better care of you, can’t he? Better than that gangly, sleazy man ever could, better than any other man ever could.)

He’s brought out of his small reverie by you profusely thanking him, telling him that the man had just approached you out of nowhere and you didn’t know how to leave the situation without it potentially escalating.

Keigo only smiles lazily, nodding at you and telling you not to worry, that he’s a pro hero, so it’s kind of my job, you know? Though for my favorite civilian, I don’t mind working overtime.

He winks at you after that, feeling only slightly anxious that you’ll find the action too arrogant, but you only blink owlishly at him, mumbling something about feeling guilty that it’s ‘overtime’. Keigo waves off your concerns, releasing your shoulder and trying not to show loss on his face.

You thank him again, smiling at him in a way that gets his knees very close to buckling, but he just clears his throat and nods, saluting you playfully and letting his wings flap, already a few feet in the air as he tells you to enjoy the rest of your night and to call him if any other creeps show up. You’re still smiling as he flies back over the roof of the building, but you don’t notice how he stops, peeking over the roof to see you make your way in the direction of the grocery store.

A small smile sits on his lips at the sight, smaller and more genuine than the smirk he’d been wearing moments ago.

Knew it, he thinks earnestly, already mentally predicting what you’ll pick up from the store. And as he hovers back into the air, cracking his neck and knuckles, he decides following you there couldn’t hurt – just in case any more men decide to mess with his woman.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Keigo’s obsession with you is overwhelming, terrifying, and pushes him to do a number of things that force his morals to be flung out the window of favor of keeping you safe, happy, his, but there’s still a few things that he can’t push himself to do, even with you in mind. One of these things is to steal you away.

Kidnapping you is not something he wants to do – he may nurse a few beliefs about how you’ll eventually forgive him for being so obsessive and domineering over you, but Keigo isn’t stupid. He knows your image of him will never recover if he presses the chloroform-soaked rag up to your mouth and coos at you while you fall limp and into his arms.

He knows you’ll never truly forgive him if you wake up one morning in his apartment, breakfast in bed waiting beside you while he stares eagerly down at you, apologizing for having to be so extreme but trying desperately to convince you that he had no other choice, that he did it for you, that he did it to keep you safe.

He knows it won’t go over well, and Keigo already feels so unsure of how to properly court you and make you genuinely like him and not just Hawks that he doesn’t want to do something even slightly risky. He already knows that stalking you, breaking into your home at night to restock your refrigerator and lay beside you on your bed is crossing enough boundaries and grounds for you to be seriously afraid of him, but kidnapping you is a line he simply isn’t willing to cross.

At least, that’s how he initially feels – until something drastic happens, something that seriously threatens your safety and Keigo can’t just simply sit back and allow it to happen. And of course, it’s fucking Dabi – Keigo’s stomach drops when he hears you mention something about running into a man on your way over a cozy cup of coffee in a local café, the air warm and smelling of espresso.

He’d picked the café because he knew it wasn’t super busy – as much as his pride swells when civilians notice him and beg him for autographs and photos right in front of you, it also makes him nervous because the last thing he wants is to come off as cocky or arrogant or rude.

(Plus, the thought of making you jealous of his fans – especially the adoring women – gets his heart racing, his face and ears feeling hot because it makes him feel good that you’re being possessive over him, but he really doesn’t want you to worry. He’ll always be yours.)

But now he’s wishing it was full to the brim, voices chattering and making it difficult to hear the way you describe a man with so many piercings and a pretty serious skin condition came up to me, he knew my name! Keigo, why do you think he knew my name? Do you think I should be worried?

He’s stiff, every muscle in his body tense and his grip on the coffee cup in his hand so tight that it shatters, coffee and ceramic shards getting everywhere. He’s still staring at you, though, even as you gasp and stand up, running to grab some napkins and wipe up the still steaming coffee. There’s some on his hand but he doesn’t seem to care – to even notice, really, if the way he’s just staring and not even flinching is any indication.

Your brows furrow as you wipe the drink off of him, chest heaving slightly as you ask him if he’s okay, if it hurts, if he’s even listening to you. Keigo just swallows, still looking at you, before telling you with an unnervingly flat voice that it’s certainly weird, but I wouldn’t worry about it.

You don’t mention it again, instead trying to ignore the heavy atmosphere and the way he’s looking at you, all wide-eyed and not a single bit of emotion on his face. It’s scaring you, to be honest, and you’re quick to give him a small side hug and thank him for meeting you for coffee. Keigo mumbles something back as he watches you walk away, something prickling at the corners of his eyes that almost feel like tears as he imagines how Dabi could’ve possibly learned about you.

He’d been so fucking careful – always making sure to not let his phone ever directly point at your face or your address, never explicitly saying your full name in case he was being bugged, never even breathing any bit of information that the greedy bastard could get his hands on.

And yet, it’d all been for nothing – because now that Dabi knows about you, everything has changed. You’re in danger, because although Keigo believes that Dabi won’t immediately kill you, he can’t simply rely on his gut – you’re in danger. And although he’d promised himself he wouldn’t snatch you away, that he wouldn’t betray your trust and make you hate him, he doesn’t really have a choice now, does he?

And so, with a heavy heart and red, puffy eyes, Keigo slips into your apartment, the sleeping pills he’d mixed into your water sitting on your nightstand leaving you out like a light, even as he fabricates the crime scene. He’s shattering your window to mimic a home invader, tangling up your sheets and leaving dirty prints coming out your front door, your clothes ransacked and your television and computer destroyed.

It has to look real, after all – faking a death is difficult but he’s done it before, and as he soars away across town to his own apartment, with you clutched in his arms and your hair tickling his neck, Keigo can only whisper apologies against the crown of your head, squeezing his eyes closed and hoping that even in your unconscious state, you can feel how terribly, terribly sorry he is.

Of course, even though your kidnapping isn’t the idea situation for you or your captor, Keigo still tries to make the best of it. He doesn’t pretend to think that you’re happy with him – he expects the crying and screaming when you wake up the next morning, his expression carefully neutral as you accuse him of being a villain, a creep, even though it makes his chest ache in a way no injury ever has, his lips feeling numb because god, he can’t breath with how you look at him in disgust and hatred.

It’s horrible – but he grits his teeth and bares it, avoiding the pillows (lush and top-quality, of course, covered in sheets of your favorite color) you’re throwing at him, not saying anything until you’ve had your fill. And really, his explanation once you’d calmed down enough to listen to it isn’t nearly enough – he’s at a loss for words, really, looking at you with such honest eyes that it only makes you cry harder.

He’ll tell you that I need to keep you safe, and I – I’m selfish, so this is the only way. It’s lackluster and it’ll have you despising him, but as the days slowly pass, you’ll find yourself growing less and less enraged at him, instead growing more and more complacent about your new life.

Because really, Keigo absolutely fucking spoils you. He’s certainly not hurting financially, and he won’t bat an eye at buying anything and everything he thinks you could possibly want.

He’s getting takeout every night, ordering all your favorites (without having to ask you, of course, something that’d scared you at first, but there’s something about the way he eyes you as you eat it that makes you pause, his small, almost shy question of do you like it sounding rushed and nervous) and making sure to pick up snacks and goodies on his way home from almost every patrol. He loves to see you smile, and even in the beginning, when you’re still afraid of him and betrayed, the way your lips quirk up ever so slightly into the shadow of a smile when he hands you your favorite snack makes him gulp, something warm and overwhelming and hopeful bubbling up inside him.

He’s buying you pretty necklaces and jewelry that remind him of you, all the pieces startlingly within your tastes, his memory of the jewelry you used to wear so acute and strong that he knows your style even better than you do.

All of the clothing he buys for you (mostly comfortable clothing, lounging shirts and sweatpants and giant blanket ponchos) fits you perfectly, almost seeming to be tailored with the way they fit around your bust, hips, ass, shoulders, and thighs.

(He won’t buy you any formal clothing, however – he’s faked your death, and he can’t exactly take you out for a nice date now, can he? He wouldn’t mind doing a candle-lit dinner in his own apartment, maybe sprinkling a few rose petals over the table and cooking you something that he really, really needs you to like, but he knows you aren’t willing. You’d thrash and refuse, not eating his food and looking at him with those eyes, the ones that are hard and calloused and sting with pain. So, he instead purchases the pretty dresses with low tops and slits up the leg, storing them in his spare closet so that you never see them, so that you don’t feel forced into anything more than you don’t want. Kidnapping is enough – romantic dinners would be amazing, the kind of thing that Keigo thinks about with a small, sad smile on his face as he watches you sleep late at night, but certainly not a thing that could happen. Absolutely not – at least, not any time soon.)

He’s embracing each and ever artistic and creative passion you’ve ever had, buying you unfathomable amounts of supplies and instruments of the highest quality, waiting with baited breath to see if you like them, hoping with his hands clutched into fists at his side that you’ll smile at him, that you’ll look at him in anything other than hate – and perhaps, if he’s lucky enough, you’ll even thank him.

(Just the thought makes him shiver, a blush rising from his chest all the way up his neck because he can’t not immediately imagine the way you’d thank him – perhaps you’d give him a kiss, full of tongue and spit and moans, or maybe you’d even sink to your knees for him, telling him that you appreciate his thoughtfulness, his love, how he works so hard to keep me safe, won’t you let me thank you, Keigo? Please?)

It’s wishful thinking, of course, but Keigo tries to do everything humanly possible to keep you as happy as you can be given the situation. Of course, he’s still controlling, laying down rules that you’ll be too afraid to disobey, because although Keigo is soft with you and treats you like you’re made of glass, you’ve seen the televised fights, the way his knuckles are sometimes bruised after patrols, the way he snaps angrily into his phone when the Commission calls him with yet another assignment. He’s still dictating what you can eat, how much contact you get with the outside world, your limited sources of entertainment, anything and everything. But he tries his absolute hardest to respect you in every other way, if only to perhaps plant the seeds of you one day growing to tolerate him, of you one day even perhaps loving him.

And so, Keigo forces himself to do the hardest thing of all – not physically crowd you. He’s always wanted to be touchy with you, the years of not having anyone to hold or even give platonic physical affection causing him to be touch-starved, and so once you come into the picture?

Well, he’s only a man – he can’t help but imagine the way your hand would feel in his, fingers intertwined and your soft skin pressed against his own rougher hands.

He can’t help but imagine kissing you, feeling how soft and gentle your lips would be against his, how you taste, how you’d make little sighs and whines when he starts kissing you harder, deeper, letting even just the smallest sliver of his desperation for you shine through.

He can’t help but imagine pulling your body against his own, keeping every inch of you flush with him while you watch a movie together, his fingers toying absentmindedly with your hair, deep exhales sounding from behind you each time he leans in to catch a whiff of you.

He can’t not imagine the way you’d get all shy and bashful when the hand that’s been running up and down your sides suddenly dips lower, cupping at your ass while he lowly mumbles your name, telling you that he can’t hold back anymore, angel, can’t I have a taste?

He’s being good – he’s forcing all those urges and fantasies to the side, not putting you in a position where you feel forced into physical contact of any kind, sexual or otherwise. He’s respecting you, prioritizing you, even if it slowly destroys him. Having you right there, stuck with him, permanently bound to his side makes him want to grab onto you and never let go, to latch onto you like some sort of leech and take everything you have to offer and then some. It drives him fucking crazy, but he knows he’ll get nowhere by forcing anything onto you.

And so, he holds his tongue, forcing his hand to not reach out and touch, forcing himself to not say the compliment on the tip of his tongue that’ll likely make you more uncomfortable than flattered. He’s good, and eventually you’ll end up slowly coming to tolerate him. Sure, he’s kidnapped you and sure, you’re still understandably upset at him, but isn’t he right? You’d seen the man that approached you before Keigo stole you away – if he’d attacked you, what would you have done? You’d have hoped and prayed that Hawks would have shown up, that you’d been saved because you were too weak and incapable of doing it yourself.

So maybe he’s right – maybe you do need him, like he tells you late at night when he thinks you’re asleep. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, sounding more and more sure of himself as the night wears on and he repeats aloud that he’s keeping you safe, I’m keeping you safe, I know you don’t understand it now but someday you’ll realize that I only took you to keep you out of harm’s way.

And once you get past that barrier of hatred and animosity, it’s disturbingly easy to let Keigo take full control, to give into him in every possible way.

You’ll stop fighting his diet planning, you’ll gladly thank him for any book he gives you as entertainment, you’ll eagerly listen when he tells you about his patrol and how he encountered so many villains who’d done horrible things. And Keigo will notice this change in your attitude – it’s too early to tell and he’s always been too pessimistic to be hopeful, but you almost seem to be liking him. You’re starting to revert back to the woman he first became obsessed with – all smiles and laughter and snarky comments that left him choking on his drink.

And he can’t believe it – he has to pinch himself, staring at you in shock with a flushed face as you make some comment alluding to him being ‘too handsome for his own good’, the fork in his hand clattering down onto the plate. From there, it’s a steady trajectory up – you’ll start getting even more little knick-knacks, shiny things and expensive things that he leaves in pretty, bow-wrapped boxes for you, a card written in his best handwriting that says something along the lines of for my angel.

It’s cheesy and makes you laugh a bit, but Keigo keeps doing because god, please laugh like that again, say his name while you do it and maybe even reach out to touch his shoulder…

He jumps at the opportunity to further your changing opinion of him, determined to make you like him, determined to let him love you like he knows he can – like he’ll do anything to prove to you.

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, getting Keigo upset with you is kind of difficult. He views you as his own personal slice of heaven, the only thing that he truly has. You’re the only thing that belongs to Keigo Takami, not Hawks, not the Commission, only him, and because of that he tends to idolize you.

You’re his first real romantic partner, his first real romantic experience, and the combination of that plus his intense, pitifully strong desire to please you makes it hard for him to stay angry at you for any significant period of time. And so, while he’s far from the ideal captor (too clingy, too controlling, too awed when he looks at you), Keigo will avoid punishing you at all costs.

He just doesn’t see the point – he doesn’t want you to hate him any more than you already do, and the thought of purposefully hurting you makes him feel physically ill. He hates seeing you in pain – it’s part of what drove him to steal you away, after all, the terror he felt at knowingly putting you in harm’s way. He’s protective and frankly anal about your health, and so to purposefully bruise your pretty skin or make you cry makes him angry enough to want to hit something, angry enough to literally writhe in his own rage.

And so, Keigo swears off any sort of physical altercations with you – he’s just too strong and you’re just too weak, and it would break him to know that he was the source of your pain and misery.

(He knows he is, already, but he can’t be the source of it physically, too, otherwise he might just shatter, feeling entirely numb and carrying out his missions like a robot, utterly unaffected by the world because he hurt you, and can he even call himself a decent hero, a decent man after that?)

However, while causing you physical harm is off the table, Keigo is realistic enough about your situation to know that punishing you entirely is something he can’t avoid. You will act out, he’s sure of it – he’d be concerned if you didn’t, really, and so he’s expecting you to lash out at him and try to hurt him. If he were you, he’d do it too.

But as much as he expects this behavior and wouldn’t fault you for it, Keigo knows that if he wants to make any progress, if he wants to give you even a chance at eventually growing complacent (it’s a selfish desire, really, but it’s the only route he can see to where you’ll be even remotely happy, or at least not fighting tooth and nail at all costs), he has to establish repercussions for when you’re throwing tantrums or acting poorly.

It feels condescending and Keigo hates it, but he decides that where physical punishments fail, he must rely on emotional ones. It’s manipulative and it makes Keigo feel dirty, disgusting, like a poor excuse for your so-called-protector, but it’s his only choice. He has to get you into shape, both for your sake and his. It’s the only choice, he swears.

You really hadn’t meant to stumble upon something you weren’t supposed to find, really. As a general rule, you don’t snoop through Keigo’s things – he’s a clean freak, first of all, the apartment he keeps you in minimalistic with everything in its correct spot. It’s classy and pretty, sure, but it’s boring, and can you really be blamed for wanting to explore after a few weeks cooped up in this penthouse?

Certainly not – which is how you find yourself tiptoeing into Keigo’s bedroom – he’d brought up the idea of sharing a bed multiple times only to be outright refused by you, and so he kept his things in this separate room. And it wasn’t explicitly off-limits, your captor never actually telling you that you couldn’t venture in. And so here you are, opening up the tall, wooden cabinet in the corner of the room and immediately sucking in a sharp breath at what you find.

You’d known Keigo had stalked you, the confession slipping from his lips early on into your captivity and the evidence difficult to deny.

(How else could he have known all your preferences before you ever voice them, knowing the way you like your morning drink, the products you use in the shower, hell, even the way you sleep – getting the pillows you like, pajamas similar to your own, even the type of sheet you prefer.)

You’d known, sure, but this – this is something else entirely. The cabinet’s housing a variety of items that send a chill down your spine because they’re yours.

An old bottle of perfume sits on the corner, the brand name smudged off from wear, and you bite your lip as you notice it’s still got just a bit left, though not nearly the amount you remember when it’d gone missing a few months ago. Your nose scrunches at the thought of him using your perfume, and bile rises in the back of your throat as you start imagining exactly how it’d been used, for what purpose and how often for that much to be gone.

There’s a few old lip balms sitting there, organized by flavor – cherry at the right, then melon, then mint, then peach and coconut. You don’t bother looking at them closely, too nervous to find signs of usage from someone other than you. (Which is good: the mint flavored Chapstick’s missing a chunk, with what looks like teeth marks sunken into the material.)

There’s an old hairbrush you thought you’d left at a friend’s place, still a few tufts of hair left between the bristles, though something seems to be crusted against the handle, and you wince at the thought of what that could possibly be. You’re scared, really, your heart screaming at you to stop searching, begging you to not look deeper because you don’t want to know what else he’s stolen from you, but your mind urges you to keep going, some sort of sick urge to know exactly what he’s taken, why he’s taken it.

(Though, you think you already know – the way he leans in close to smell you when he thinks he’s being subtle is telling, as is the way he has you sort out your used period products into a separate waste container, telling you that it's because the pads he gives you are compostable. You’ve seen the way the bags linger, though, staying in his bathroom, blood sometimes sitting under his nails when he emerges, eyes dilated and licking his lips at you.)

But as soon as you spot the photographs, you crumble.

Of course you’d known he was stalking you, following your every move and watching you at your most vulnerable, but somehow this is worse – there’s dozens of them, stacked neatly in piles that you can’t even begin to understand. Leafing through them with shaking fingers, they only seem to get worse and worse, images of you laying on your couch, cooking, doing your makeup, changing into your bathrobe, sleeping, and oh god, there’s even one of you on your bed, legs spread and fingers thrusting and rubbing and oh god you’re going to be sick-

The photographs fall from your fingertips as you shakily take a few steps back, the sound of the front door opening and Keigo’s call of I’m home making panic swim in your veins. He’s quick to come find you, asking you in a voice that’s edging on concerned where you are, but when he steps into his bedroom and spots you against the far wall, hands covering your mouth and the wooden door open and askew, Keigo’s clenching his teeth, jaw working.

Oh, is all he has to say, and it snaps you out of your horror.

Oh? That’s it? That’s fucking it, Keigo? What – what is this? You’re sick, a sick freak! Why do you have my stuff? What’s wrong with you? You’re yelling, pushing yourself further against the wall, and he can only frown, irritation and worry eating away at him because god, hearing you so upset is physically hurting him but there’s nothing he can do.

You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s, uh… He trails off, mind racing and panicking as he tries to think of what to say, but you don’t let the silence sit for long.

There’s something wrong with you, you’re a fucking monster! You think you’re a hero? Stalking some poor civilian, stealing her shit, photographing her while she’s sleeping? You’re disgusting, a horrible, twisted, sick creep! Stay away from me!

You’re crawling backwards away from him as he comes towards you, his hands in front of him as a sign of peace. You’re crying, he can see, and it only makes his chest ache more, shame and self-loathing away at him because you’re right – he’s sick in the head, he knows it, but he can’t help it.

I know, I know, calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop crying, angel –

It's the wrong thing to say and he immediately knows it, because you give him a glare that makes something sharp dig into his heart, so much so that he physically clutches at his chest, wincing and averting his eyes from yours.

I hate you, Keigo, you whisper, and it makes something ugly come from his throat, a mix between a gasp and a whimper. I hate you I hate you I hate you.

He’s frozen for a moment, before swallowing, nodding his head and blinking the tears out of his eyes. I know, he starts, before turning on his heel and walking towards the doorway to the bedroom. I know you hate me, but you’re stuck with me.

And with that he walks to the front door, slamming it behind him and leaving the apartment empty. You stay curled up on the ground for a few minutes, still crying and hiccupping, the influx of emotion making your head ache. You’d been here for weeks now, and you thought you’d moved on from these crying episodes, from these emotional outbursts, but something about the photos had opened the floodgates.

After another ten minutes, you shakily get up, still rubbing at your eyes and avoiding looking at the wooden cabinet. You all but sprint to your own bed – the bed he gave you, at least – and curl up on top of it, letting your eyes shut and exhaustion fall over you. It’s not until you wake a few hours later that you notice Keigo still hasn’t returned home yet.

That was odd – he’s not on shift, and it was the middle of the night by now. Where was he? Shaking your head, flashes of the photographs race through your head, forcing you to stop thinking of Keigo. The night is quiet as you make yourself something small to eat – a piece of bread and a small amount of the low-fat butter Keigo eats, the apartment still eerily quiet.

You fall into a restless slumber soon after, your dreams filled with the sensation of something – someone – watching over your sleeping form.

When you awake, there’s still no sign of him – everything’s quiet and empty, and you bite your lip, equal parts relieved that he’s nowhere in sight but also slightly concerned. The feeling looms over you as the day slips away, his presence still gone. It’s not until two days later that Keigo finally returns home, and by that point the paranoia at his absence leaves you perking up when you hear the faint jingling of keys.

You’re immediately on your feet, practically tripping as you run to the front door, eager for him to return, eager to not be all alone and scared – something you’d realized about a day ago. You’d actually been afraid of his absence. Perhaps it was survival, wanting to make sure you had enough food and someone with the locks to all the keys that’d be able to let you out, or perhaps it was that you needed him. Maybe you needed some human contact, the total silence and your inability to contact anyone driving you stir crazy.

Regardless, you wait with eager anticipation as Keigo opens the door, those yellow eyes immediately catching yours, his expression carefully neutral though you can see something behind the practiced apathy. It’s relief, you think, and something else – something more desperate, something more vulnerable, something that makes you launch yourself into his arms, nearly knocking the wind out of him as he stares wildly down at you, shock written all across his face.

He’d expected that you’d be relieved that he came home, happy to have your source of food and care back, but not this excited – he swallows, frantically trying to not focus on the way your body is pressing against his and how he can feel all of you, instead letting his arms hesitantly wrap around you, not wanting to scare you.

You’re saying his name, he realizes, and he furrows his brows, closing his eyes and letting the sound ring through his ears. It’s wrong to be enjoying your clearly distraught state and he knows it, but he can’t help it – you’ve never initiated physical contact like this before, and is it really such a crime to be enjoying it?

I’m here, angel, ‘m here, he tells you, petting a hand over your hair and letting you squeeze him tighter. Please never leave me again, Keigo, please!

You’re begging him, he realizes, and it forces him to hug you just a bit tighter, his wings coming down to join the hug to. Closing his eyes again, Keigo lets out a slow, deep sigh, relishing in the way you’re clinging to him for comfort, begging him to never leave you for a moment.

And as he whispers a small I’m yours, I’ll never leave you again, you can only nod against his chest, disgusted with yourself for this display of your dependence on him. Because really, when had you become so fond of your captor? The photographs are still on the ground in his bedroom, all the things he's stolen from you sitting in that damned cabinet, but you find yourself not caring.

As you breathe in the now familiar smell of his cologne, hear his heart pounding away in his chest, you find that you don’t care about anything, really – because perhaps what he’s been saying along is really true.

Maybe you are in need of protection, needing him to provide for you. Because you’d been left alone for three days, and what do you have to show for it? Panic, loneliness, fear that he’d left you behind? Maybe you really are just as weak as he makes you out to be – and as you slowly pull back from the hug, you find yourself ever so briefly being thankful for him.

Thankful that you’ve finally, finally found where you belong: by Keigo’s side, letting him fawn over you and keep you locked up like some prized pet.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Keigo is less dangerous and more paranoid. He has so many alter egos and warring identities that once you come along, encouraging him to just be Keigo around you rather than Pro Hero Hawks or PLF Hawks, he can’t let you slip away.

There’s something about you that doesn’t leave his mind – perhaps it’s your mannerisms, your looks, the way you speak, how you walk and how you smell and how you think. Maybe it’s some twisted form of fate, or some long-repressed part of his quirk that’s beginning him to finally find a companion, a mate, someone to share himself with.

Regardless, once Keigo’s obsession forms, he’s a lost cause – he’s thinking of you constantly, unable to stop his mind from wandering into idle thoughts of what you’re doing or how you’re feeling. He finds himself unconsciously trailing behind you, watching over you from above with those sharp eyes of his narrowed in on your form, studying and memorizing the curves of your body underneath your clothing, the way you walk ingrained into him so deeply that when he closes his eyes all he sees is you.

His paranoia grows as his obsession does, too, the worrying realization that you’re weak making it difficult for him to ever part from you, anxiety swimming in his gut because what if you get hurt and he isn’t there to help you? What if you get into trouble and he isn’t there to swoop and be your savior?

(Some sick, twisted part of him almost wishes you would run into trouble, just so he could put himself into the position of being your knight in shining armor, of making you swoon for him, feeling the way you’d be so very grateful and want to make it up to him in any way you could. He forces the thought down, disgusted with himself for fantasizing about you being in danger, but during long nights where he tosses and turns in his too-empty and too-cold bed, the thought of you looking at him in such awe and gratitude makes something warm, wet, and shameful throb to life between his legs.)

He does eventually kidnap you, yes, but as time passes you’ll find that slowly you’ll stop caring about how he keeps you trapped by his side, how he controls your every day life, how he forces you into all sorts of loungey, comfortable clothing that always smells like him. Because really, Keigo is awfully pathetic – he thinks he’s good at hiding just how badly you affect him, but you can see the way he perks up when you enter a room, looking so hopefully and lovesick as he gazes at you that it almost hurts.

You’ll be able to tell how his heart is racing in his chest when you get close to him, his breath turning ragged and his palms so sweaty that when he wipes them on his pants they leave wet marks. It’s pathetic, sad, cute, and as time passes with Keigo as the only person in your life, slowly you’ll begin wondering if being loved by him isn’t bad.

Is what Keigo can give you – protection, adoration, reliability, devotion – really so bad? Is it so bad to just be loved?

And Keigo will be there waiting for you once you finally come around, his hands trembling as he hugs you, burying his face into your neck and you swear you feel something wet against your skin, his tears tickling you as his shoulders shake. He just loves you, and how cruel can you be to reject him, to leave him without the only person he’s ever cared for?

How could you be such a monster?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #hawks x reader #_lee's profiles #_keigo takami #_bnha

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Text

we've been doin' all this late night talkin'

you flounder in the living room for a second, taking a glance at how the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. akaashi notices this, and the time. it’s past midnight and he’s certain the trains aren’t running anymore. he can’t let a young girl like you venture out into the night all by herself, but a drive back to your place in this weather isn’t ideal and he can’t leave his daughter alone.

“i should probably—”

“just spend the night,” akaashi interrupts. he knows you at this point, you’re much too nice to ask for a cab ride home and you’d probably rather trek through the rain than ever be a bother to anyone. “don’t argue with me on this one, i’m not letting you go out in this storm.” that’s all it takes to shut you up, nodding without another word. you’re such a good girl for always listening to him.

paring: dilf!akaashi x babysitter!reader

words: 2.9k

cw: fem!reader, age gap (reader is in their 20s/Akaashi in his 40s), alcohol, dubious consent, slight manipulation, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

He laughed after hearing the small noise you made when he opened the door, entering the dimmed living room. You were curled up on the couch, a movie playing quietly on the TV. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, shaking the rain from his umbrella as he removes his shoes.

As always, you were quick to apologize, a trait Akaashi always found charming. “Oh, not it’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have been watching scary movies so late at night,” you mumbled, sitting up to put the film on pause. “Kisa knocked out hours ago, by the way. I managed to convince her to remove the facepaint but she insisted on sleeping in her costume so you’ll have a witch in her bed tomorrow morning.”

Akaashi wasn’t surprised. Even at five years old, Kisa was incredibly stubborn, getting into debates (Akaashi didn’t like to call them arguments) with her father over every little thing—not wanting to eat her broccoli or refusing to wear the new sweater Akaashi bought. You, on the other hand, were the Kisa Whisperer, able to get her to compromise and not act so hot-headed.

It was a blessing when you answered his ad for a babysitter. With his job taking so much of his time, and the messy divorce with his soon-to-be-ex, having the extra help means the world to him.

It also doesn’t hurt that you were so pretty. A sweet, obedient college student with such good manners. It took Akaashi weeks to get you to stop calling him “sir,” despite how much he loved how the word came out of your soft lips. “Just call me Keiji, you don’t have to be so formal with me, sweetie.”

Akaashi places his briefcase on the dining table and sighs. “I apologize for coming home so late, I just couldn’t get out of the office, and then the storm caused traffic on the way back. I hope you girls didn’t get caught in it while trick-or-treating?”

“Oh, not at all. I was keeping a close eye on the clouds the entire time. We made it home just fine.” your voice soothes Akaashi’s nerves as he hears you getting up from the couch. “And I don’t mind. Kisa’s such a great kid, I love spending time with her. I took a bunch of photos too, I’ll send them tomorrow.”

You flounder in the living room for a second, taking a glance at how the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. Akaashi notices this, and the time. It’s past midnight and he’s certain the trains aren’t running anymore. He can’t let a young girl like you venture out into the night all by herself, but a drive back to your place in this weather isn’t ideal and he can’t leave Kisa alone.

“I should probably—”

“Just spend the night,” Akaashi interrupts. He knows you at this point, you’re much too nice to ask for a cab ride home and you’d probably rather trek through the rain than ever be a bother to anyone. “Don’t argue with me on this one, I’m not letting you go out in this storm.”

That’s all it takes to shut you up, nodding without another word. You’re such a good girl for always listening to him. He reminds you that extra sheets and pillows are in the hall closet and he has some of his ex’s pajamas upstairs that you could borrow. He has no issue taking you home after he drops Kisa off at daycare.

After he assured you that it wasn’t a problem, Akaashi could see that you were finally starting to calm down. He suggested finishing the movie you were watching before going to bed, he needed to unwind a little bit himself. Before settling on the couch, he grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen and two glasses and places them on the coffee table.

“I know you’re gonna want to fight me, but you’re off the clock, sweetie,” Akaashi says, putting an end to any protest you’re about to give him. “I’m not your boss right now.” He pours a glass for each of you and hands one over.

He may be old but he can tell when he’s got a woman flustered and it’s written all over your face. So cute. You hold out your glass. “Cheers?” Behave, Keiji, he thinks as both of you clink your glasses.

It turns out horror movies haven’t gotten much better in the past couple of years. Still relying on overdramatic acting and cheesy jump scares, but he figures it can’t be all that bad if it scares pretty girls like you into scooting a bit closer to him. “Did you finish your drink already, sweetheart?” You look over at your empty glass, slightly embarrassed for drinking it so quickly. “It’s okay. Here, have some more.”

You’re more receptive this time, eagerly holding your glass so he can pour more wine. He always took you for a lightweight but seeing it in person was a sight to behold. “Sorry about making you work on Halloween. I’m sure you would’ve rather gone to a party or something,” Akaashi says, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Ahhh, it’s okay,” you giggled, curling up underneath the blanket Akaashi had on the couch. “There’s always gonna be another party.”

“Oh, do you go often?” he asks, chuckling at your quirked eyebrows. “Hey, I was your age too.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you tease, taking another swig—Akaashi’s certain he’s gonna have to refill your cup once again. “I go sometimes…if class gets a bit crazy, it’s nice not to think about work.”

Akaashi’s eyes flick over to the television screen, the dumb sorority girl in the movie starts flirting with the nerd boy character. There’s another thing he remembers about these stupid movies, a cheesy sex scene. A cardinal sin, their days are definitely numbered. But he wonders if their inevitable death will scare you enough that you’ll move even closer. At this point, you’re practically in his lap although it doesn’t seem like you’re aware of it. Are you this oblivious around other people?

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks without thinking, grabbing the wine bottle to refill your glass. He’s shocked and relieved when you shake your head no. “Come on, a pretty girl like you? I would think you’d have to fight these college boys off with a stick.”

Akaashi’s hand touches your thigh, gripping the soft skin. He feels the muscle twitch and a cute hum leave your lips but you don’t make a comment on it. “I don’t have time for boys,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the screen. You must be so tipsy at this point, poor thing, brain too foggy to notice the obvious jump scare that’s about to happen. It’s alright, though, the loud noise sends you leaning against him now.

“Aww, did you get scared, honey?” he coos, hand rubbing your back. Akaashi’s hand travels back to your thigh, running his fingers along the fabric of your jeans. “Are you really comfortable sleeping like that? Remember I have some extra clothes.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine…” But Akaashi isn’t having it, pulling you closer until you’re fully seated in his lap. You gasp in surprise, but don’t make an effort to push him away. On the contrary, you settle in his hold, sighing in relief.

Akaashi plays with the button at the front of your pants, easily spreading your legs so they dangle on the outside of his. “What did I say about fighting me, sweetie? I only want to help,” with deft hands, he undoes the clasp and pulls the zipper down. He’s so elated when you silently allow him to shimmy your bottoms off, leaving your panties exposed. “Doesn’t that feel so much better?”

He truly can’t help himself, thumb brushing against the front of your underwear. He slaps your thigh to placate you when you start squirming in his grasp. “I’m just helping, baby, it’s okay.”

“Noooo, sir, you can’t look at me down there,” the smell of wine is heavy on your breath as you slur your words. “It’s so embarrassing…” But Akaashi stopped listening when you called him “sir.” He thought he trained you not to call him that, but you can’t help it. So stupid with all that alcohol running through your veins. He’s feeling the effects of his few drinks—he would never be so forward like this but fortune favors the bold.

“Is that why there’s a wet spot right here?” Akaashi asks, touching between your legs once more, purposely reaching for the damp spot that’s slowly growing. He hears you whine again but quells it with a simple shush. “We have to be quiet remember? You’re gonna wake Kisa up.”

That makes you bite your lip, stifling any cries that would fall out. But it doesn’t do much to hinder Akaashi from touching you. His fingers playing at the hem of your panties. He could feel you trying to bring your legs together, but he keeps them spread. “Will you let me touch you, baby? I’ll make you feel so good,” he breathes.

Even in your embarrassment, you’re still a good girl and nod, boosting his ego. With the green light, Akaashi wastes no time plunging two of his fingers inside you. He’s quick to cover your mouth with his free hand, suppressing the cry before you can wake up the whole house. He even has to catch himself for a second, head lolling back at how wet you are. Fuck.

The vice grip you have around his hand tells Akaashi that you’re going to feel so much sweeter when he has his cock in you. Perfect, he thinks. The thought of some inexperienced college boy on top of you, failing to make you cum, made him uneasy. A good girl like you needs a man. You’re still young and inexperienced—you need someone to show you real pleasure.

He’s more than happy to take up the mantle.

Akaashi’s other hand travels up your shirt, tugging at your bra until one of your breasts spills out. The flesh is so soft in his grasp, he has to let out another groan. He fucks you harder with his fingers, turning your head to swallow your cries with rough kisses. There’s a fire inside Akaashi that he didn’t know existed. It certainly wasn’t there during those last few months of his marriage or with those one-night stands he had to fill the void.

He needs you to cum, needs to feel your juices running down his arm. Akaashi pays attention to your clit, circling it with his thumb just enough to see your legs start shaking. “Does it feel good, angel?”

You cutely whine against his lips, “Yes…it feels so good, sir.” Akaashi has to compose himself when your hips start moving When you’re fucking yourself on his fingers, chasing your high any way you can. God, he’s really gonna fuck you up. “Ahh, sir—sir, I’m gonna!” You whine into your hand to cover up the sounds, creaming around Akaashi’s hand as your eyes rolled back in bliss. He lets your body rock through it, free hand playing with your buds. Rolling and tugging them between his fingers.

“Honey, you’re making a mess all over me,” but Akaashi’s the opposite of upset. He wants to lick all of it up until he’s drowning in your sweet nectar. He wants to bury his face in between your legs and make you cum over and over until your brain is mush. But he’s hard and leaking in his pants and while he knows he can hold out as long as he needs to, Akaashi needs to experience the feeling of your cunt around him.

While you’re still feeling the effects, Akaashi wraps his arms around you and hoists you up, carrying you bridal style. “You’re gonna feel so much more comfortable on my bed, baby,” he whispers, trekking up the steps, down the hallway, and far from Kisa’s room where she’s fast asleep. He sets you down on the plush king-sized mattress and smiles at how quickly you settle into the silk sheets. “Feels good, yeah? Wanted to have more room while I fuck you.” Akaashi breathes, unbuttoning his shirt before climbing into the bed and hovering over you.

You’re staring up at him with wide, doe eyes. So naive to what’s to come. “Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. Wanna see you cum from my cock, okay?”

Akaashi kisses you again, smothering your noises of affirmation. He pulls the rest of your clothes off, savoring the sight of your naked body, the swell of your breasts, and your glistening cunt between your legs. Next time, he thinks. Next time Akaashi will reward himself with fucking you with his tongue. His cock hits his abdomen when he finally frees it, kicking his pants and boxers down and stroking himself with anticipation. “It’s gonna go so deep in you, but I know you can take it. You’re such a good girl…”

The words only make you squirm more underneath him. Akaashi stops stalling and rubs his cock against your folds, cursing under his breath from how wet you are. It’s so easy for him to slip in, easily stretching you out until he’s buried at the hilt. He has you folded in a half, pushing at the back of your thighs to reach even deeper.

Such a dumb, pretty girl you are, letting a man twice your age fuck you unprotected. You’re so lucky that it’s Akaashi doing this and not some other man who’d take advantage of you. He can take such good care of you—make you feel good, get your eyes to roll to the back of your head, you’ll never want to look at another man again.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, fingernails digging into Akaashi’s skin when he sets a slow pace. Akaashi pulls nearly all the way out before meeting his hips once again with yours. He can tell you’re getting addicted from the way your cunt spasms around him, clenching down to the point you’re practically choking him.

A pretty girl like you will definitely let him cum inside, fill up that young, fertile womb of yours. Oh, how adorable would you look with his seed spilling out of you? Or even better, plump and round with his baby? He’s always wanted a sibling for Kisa but his bitch wife wouldn’t allow it. But you wouldn’t fight him. Akaashi could be able to provide for you if you’d just let him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Never felt a pussy this good in my life,” he mumbles, leaning down to kiss you, slightly changing the angle of his thrusts. The sounds of you crying out are intoxicating, he could drown in it.

"You ever felt someone's cum inside you, baby?" Akaashi asks in between kisses, groaning at the sight of your breasts bouncing as he fucks you.

"No, never..." you sigh, mouthing a small fuck as Akaashi keeps going.

He kisses you harder and the pride that's been bubbling inside him burns white hot in the pit of his stomach. He might not be the first to claim your body, but he'll definitely be the first the breed you—and that feels so much better.

Akaashi brings a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were fucked out, mouth wet with spit. So beautiful. "It'll make you feel all warm," he says against your lips. "You'll feel so full and when it runs out of you—fuck. You'll love it so much, baby."

Wrapping your legs around Akaashi's waist, you pull him closer. "I want it! I want your cum, sir," you whined and Akaashi has you right where he wants. A dumb, cock drunk girl crying underneath him.

It's perfect. You're fucking perfect.

"God, I'm gonna fucking ruin you," he grunts, moving faster. Akaashi's thrusts get sloppy, losing his rhythm as he fucks you with purpose. "Gonna make you so full of me."

You're crying, fat tears running down your cheeks as you're overcome with pleasure and the feeling of your nails dragging down Akaashi's back tells him that you're cumming once again.

It's so messy, your walls form a vice grip around his cock, and Akaashi, the experienced man that he is, can't help it. He cums with your name on his tongue, flooding your sinful cunt.

Both of you stay like that for a while. Akaashi's cock twitched inside you, making sure there isn't a single drop wasted. After a while, he wipes any stray tears that fall, kissing your warm cheeks with praises in between.

"You did so well, sweetie. You took all of me," he says, holding your shaking frame. He gives you a few seconds before peeling away and pulling his cock out, eyes locked on his seed flowing out of your cunt and making the mess he knew it would. "Look at that..." he whispers, completely mesmerized.

He knows he has to clean you up, but Akaashi lets himself enjoy the sight for right now. He'll keep the end of his bargain and drop you off at your place in the morning. But a part of him hopes you'll want to stay a little longer. You can be his cute live-in nanny, who takes care of his angel in the morning and gets fucked dumb at night.

You’ll do it for him. You’re a good girl after all.

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi #akaashi scenarios #keiji akaashi smut #akaashi smut #akaashi keiji smut #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #dilf haikyuu #✨#✨akaashi #peach's spoopy season 🎃

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eetherealgoddess · 27 days

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hellooo, welcome backkk!!! I FUCKING MISSED YOU LIKE SOOO MUCHHHHH. Girl, I thought you left tumblr because honestly the majority of the best writers I also know left:( You're my fav writer so I was really sad AND GIRL WHEN I SAW!! WHEN I SAW THAT YOU WERE ACTIVE 3 HOURS AGO??? MAN I CREAMED. I CAME. I ORGASMED-

I also have a request!! Do you write incest? It includes it, but ofc if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore mee~ it can be stepcest or ykkk anything you're comfortable with!! the story goes with mikey's cute little sister that's rebellious (both him and the reader ain't in good terms ever since the whole bonten happened)emo mikey finally snapped and decided to punish her when she did something VEEERRYYY unforgivable. He and his men (bonten) brutally like bruuutallly punished her. it can be smut or anything you want. whatever it is I'LL EAT IT UP MHMMMM SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM MY PUR PUR POOKIE WOOKIEEEEEEE

I appreciate the love and support!! ts had me dying LMAO

i do not write biologically related incest nor half siblings but i’m fine with writing stepcest (depending on the plot) and like a foster or adoption situation (all 18+)

i kinda sort of followed the timeline so there might be scenes that are not accurate to the manga/anime, tho i did it that way to fit it in better with the plot so the scenes aren’t as long <3

ALSOOOO!!! i could’ve made this waayyy more brutal but when i was imagining different scenarios i literally made myself sick 💀💀💀

ꨄRebelꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦Was it worth it?❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey, Kazu, and Sanzu x Reader but read to catch the vibes :)

❣︎All of Bonten are included in this story except Mochi❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rebel

You were never one to follow rules blindly. You always questioned what you were told no matter who fed the information. How could you not when you spend most of your childhood shipped from family to family like a worn out package that's been sent to the wrong destination repeatedly? It wasn’t until you aged eight years that you were finally adopted by a man who asked you to call him ‘Grandpa Sano.’

You were unprepared for the generosity you received from the Sanos, having been in situations where your foster family wanted nothing to do with you. Your negative experiences caused you to form a barrier, an outer shell that shields you from the vulnerability your brain wanted to protect you from. You were cautious, unknown as to why you were chosen. When you first arrived, you were greeted by the oldest sibling, Shinichiro. He was kind, sort of silly as he displayed his quirkiness whenever you would spend quality time together after you had grown to see him as a proper big brother.

Emma beamed when she saw you, excited that another girl would finally be around to become her companion in a house full of boys. When you were comfortable, you gained a sense of sisterhood you never thought you’d have the privilege to experience. The last Sano you had met was none other than Sano Manjiro, otherwise known as Mikey. The first contact was interesting as you both gave blank expressions to one another. After growing alongside the boy, you could tell the kid had a sense of cockiness, though rightfully so as you learn about his incredible strength.

Watching Mikey and Baji fight when they would practice their skills made you want to become as strong as them. You would observe their moves every chance you got, failing in your attempts until you would eventually succeed, resulting in you declaring a battle against Mikey. The boy gazed at your stern appearance before releasing a light hearted laugh. You didn’t dislike him, in fact you both grew closer as time went on. If anything, you were inspired by him, even if you came off as a bratty little sister who wanted to follow him around with all his friends.

Even at a young age you could tell that he would grow to be a good person. You felt safe in his presence, knowing that he counted you as family. Knowing that he grew to love you as well as you to the Sano family. You knew that Mikey would never hurt anyone, his soul radiating a warmth you have never seen before. That is, until the day came where all you heard was Baji’s begging for Mikey to stop as you watch in horror, the blood seeping from the corners of another one of his childhood friends, Haruchiyo’s mouth.

Your hands trembled as you eye the onyx orbs that bore into the boy on his knees, a cold expression laced with nothing but a shadow of darkness. Your own eyebrows were furrowed as tears streamed down your face while you switched gazes between the two boys.

“M-Mikey…” You whispered, listening to Senju as she cried in the background. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you. Whichever was the case didn’t matter as you heard him finally speak.

“Smile, Haruchiyo.”

His voice was deep, almost as if it wasn’t his own. You covered your own mouth as Haru began laughing hysterically as his tears mixed with the blood. You knew at that moment that something had switched. You didn’t know what exactly the change was, but you knew that absolutely nothing would feel the same.

Time passed as you all hit your pre - teen years and Mikey had formed his own gang, Toman. It was early in the making though you thought it was the coolest thing. You had let go of the negative image your mind had formed when the incident with Haruchiyo happened after Mikey had given a heartfelt apology to everyone, including the boy in the hospital bed. When you visited Haruchiyo, the young boy had confirmed his forgiveness and encouraged you to give Mikey some leeway. He was once again your inspiration as you reasoned with yourself that he just had a ‘moment.’

Everything was going normally for a while, Shinichiro teaching you how to ride a motorbike as well as Mikey allowing you to hang out with him and his friends occasionally. Kazutora and Baji pulled you along to search for a gift considering Mikey’s birthday is coming up. Having had a small crush on Kazutora for a while, you followed them, sitting behind the tiger tattooed boy with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn’t until the mischievous delinquent explained his plan, in which you and Baji reacted with hesitation. He waved off your worries and claimed that the best way to obtain Mikey’s gift would be to steal from the store that holds his most ideal bike. When you arrived, you couldn’t shake the familiarity. It’s as if you have seen this place before but you don’t remember stepping foot into a bike shop ever in your life. As you stand to the side while Baji tries to move the bike, a presence causes you both to look up.

“Who’s shop do you think you’re breaking into…?”

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at Shinichiro as the realization hits you.

Although you’ve lived with the Sanos for a few years now, you’ve never once stepped foot into Shinichiro’s bike shop. You’ve only come across pictures which is why there is familiarity. It completely slipped your mind that Shinichiro owns a place that just so happened to be this one.

“Shini… I…” He turned his head to meet his orbs with Baji’s.

“You look familiar, are you Keisuke?” Baji stutters as he attempts to respond. Just as he said his name, you both gasp as you watch Kazutora come from behind with a large tool, raising his arms before slamming them down. A resounding crack echoed througout the room as the weapon made contact with Shinichiro’s head.

Your breath hitched as you watched his body fall to the ground, landing with a thud. The same trembling you felt from your hands when you watched Mikey tear Haruchiyo’s face appeared as you stared down at Shinichiro’s lifeless body, the blood seeping under his head as it stained the floor. Baji drops to his knees as he hovers above the corpse, explaining to Kazutora who the victim was. The golden eyed boy could only respond by hyperventilating.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Baji croaks out, hand meeting his forehead as Kazutora’s fingers reach his own mouth, biting them as he stares in place with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it… I didn’t kill him.” His voice trembled. You watch in fear as you eye the hysterical boys, falling to your own knees before sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees as you whimper before the tears stream freely. Your bottom lip quivers as you gaze at your oldest brother’s form. You couldn’t help but take part of the blame considering you are a witness that could’ve done something to stop this madness before it occurred.

You listen to Kazutora’s ramblings as Baji attempts to call an ambulance. It was horrific to see them so distressed, a feeling of impending doom coming on as you realize there’s no coming back from this. Your mind ran through different scenarios on what would happen once the Sano family found out about everything.

“Let’s get outta here!” Baji says to you both though you couldn’t move, watching as Kazutora seems to lose his mind by the second.

“It’s all… Mikey’s fault.” Your eyes widen as you gaze at him with concern. “I need to kill Mikey.” He claimed with a distorted smile, tears threatening to fall. You could only stare in disbelief as the cops were heard outside the building.

When you all walked out, everyone except you binded, a head of blonde hair appeared in front of you with a surprised expression.

You watched as Mikey questioned Baji, in which he cried out an apology as Kazutora chants “Kill… kill…”

You were there for it all. You were there when Kazutora spent two years in juvenile, only to come back with a vengeance. You were there when Kisaki became involved as well as this random Takemichi kid who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You were there for Valhalla's battle, witnessing Baji’s death as you held his head on your lap before Kazutora was arrested once more. You were there for the Christmas battle. You were there for the Tenjiku battle and you were there when Mikey disbanded Toman before he disappeared, followed by a few other people you had met.

There was even a time in your early adulthood when you went to visit Kazutora in jail only to find out he had been released a few years earlier than the ten years he was sentenced, seeming to have disappeared along with Sanzu and Mikey. For a while you blame yourself for not keeping in touch when everyone was initially ghosted by your brother. You wanted to give him the space you knew he needed considering he hadn’t been the same since you had first met.

Finally exhausted with your passive ways you decided to seek him out, figuring that you might be able to track the other members that disappeared as well. Although you kept in touch with Emma, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, and etc., you couldn’t ignore the yearning you felt to find your brother and friends. You missed them dearly. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have known anything until you repeatedly bothered the dragon tattooed man to tell you the truth about Mikey’s whereabouts.

“Now that I’ve told you, forget about Mikey. Forget about the rest of em. It’s too dangerous, Y/n.”

Knowing that Draken is right, you listen. For a while you stopped your search and continued to live your life, working a 9 to 5 and coming home to your decent sized apartment. It wasn’t until you received a letter signed by the person you had been searching for. Once you reach the day that he wrote in the letter, you rush to meet him at the destination, speeding down the streets on your motorcycle.

Reaching the place, you eye the closed nightclub in awe. You wondered why he decided to meet you at this particular setting. You felt a rush of anxiety as you near the door, opening it before walking into the empty space. You walk through the dark room using the flash on your phone as you walk to the staircase, following Mikey’s instructions.

When you reach upstairs, you walk into the door he ordered. Your footsteps echo through the dark room, the sun outside illuminating through the open windows as a breeze flies across the room. Your eyes meet a head of platinum hair, indicating the back of someone’s head. The male who wears a black long sleeve shirt and pants sits with his back bent forward, arms on his lap as his head hangs low. The symbol on his neck stood out to you, reminding you of Izana’s earrings. Your eyes widen when realization finally clicks.

“Mikey?” You say, gaining momentum as you rush over to your brother. Before you could make it, a grip on your arm causes you to halt, as well as a firm pressure against the back of your head. You stare ahead as your breath hitches.

“Move at my pace.” The voice behind you demands. Having no other choice but to listen or risk an early death, you ignore your accelerated heart beat and follow alongside the body that shifted slightly to the side of you. Your eyes switch from the short man ahead to the person beside you, immediately catching the scar on the corner of the person’s mouth.

Sharp blue eyes suddenly meet yours during the observation, pink bangs swaying as his head faces you. His lips curve into a toothy smirk, eyebrows furrowing as he gives you a mischievous expression.

“T’s been a while, Y/n.” You turn away from him as you both walk closer to Mikey.

“I guess long enough to where you feel the need to have a gun against my head. As if we never knew each other.” You respond, irritation adding to your fear as you’re led to the chair in front of Mikey.

He only ignored you as his grin grew wider, guiding you to sit facing away from your brother. When your bottom meets the seat, Sanzu stood next to you with the barrel of the gun placed to your temple.

“Leave us, Sanzu.”

“Got it.” He responds before dropping his arm and walking towards the exit. “I’ll be downstairs.”

After giving you one more side glance, the pink haired man closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

“I heard you wanted to find me.” He says softly. Your fingers fidget in your lap as your knees are pressed together, feet spread apart. You chew on your bottom lip as you sit with a tense body, realizing the gravity of your situation and how dangerous it was to meet him with no sort of back up.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…” You begin, shaking your head as you continue, “…I get it, Mikey. Everything that happened hurt like hell. Just because you went through something doesn’t mean you become the leader to a fucking criminal organization and kill lots of innocent people.”

When he didn’t respond, all you heard was your own breathing as you fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“You act like you’re the only one that went through anything. As if I wasn’t there experiencing as much pain as you! I didn’t run off and disappear and cause more harm to the streets, because there just wasn’t enough blood splattered!”

You had the understanding that you could be digging your own grave. The sorrow and anger hitting you all at once had your words slipping out fast. You missed him, who he was before. How could he have abandoned you like that?

“Y-you could’ve come to me. We could’ve been there and experienced it all together, Mikey. I-I know you’re just in pain, but I’m here. I’ve always been there.” You say the last sentence softly as your vision blurred from the moisture.

You listened as you heard rustling behind you, followed by footsteps leading towards your sitting figure. Your sobs went silent as a figure shadowed over you. The cold impact of the gun against your head causes goosebumps to run across your arms, a chill running up your back as you make eye contact with the man holding a weapon against your forehead.

Anyone could lose themselves in the void of his orbs. They bore into you coldly as he gazed down at you with a blank yet intense expression. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyebrows furrow angrily. His arm follows as you stand from your seat slowly.

“Is this all you know how to do now?” You almost growl, exhausted by the behavior your brother displays when you know he clearly has a hard time communicating his emotions. “Shoot whoever questions you. Murder instead of speaking on how you feel. When are you gonna grow up, Mikey?”

“Shut up.” He hissed. “You know nothing.” You only stare back in response, glaring at him as the gun cocks.

“Leave.” He states before lowering his arm. You watch the male as he makes his way to the exit. Before he walks out of the opened door, he turns his head to the side slightly, gaze still ahead.

“If we ever see each other again… I’ll kill you.” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek as a nervous habit when he walks out, leaving you to allow the words to sink in.

In that moment, you determined that you would find a way to bring back the real Mikey. You couldn’t accept this. You would never accept this reality. You would do whatever it takes, even if that means going against your better judgment and acting on emotion, something you had a habit of doing. You don’t care what Mikey says nor have you ever listened when he told you not to do something. You don’t care that you’re risking your life by getting involved. You snatch the phone from your pocket before dialing a number.

“Naoto, I need your help.”

You didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t almost succeeding in the take down of Bonten. Unfortunately, both you and Naoto missed a key detail to your plans which resulted in Bonten being free of the attention from the police. It didn’t help that some of the government officials involved were traitors to the force, having helped the criminal organization in secret.

Thick smoke polluted the building as a radiating heat caused you to sweat. You cough as your arm covers your mouth and nose, eyes squint as you see through the burning room. The alarms screeched as a warning to anyone near that a fire had been started. You heard the impact of whatever caused the flames, knowing a bomb had been planted somewhere inside which caused an explosion. You’re surprised that you’re still alive, along with some of the others who crawl and struggle towards the nearest exit, maneuvering through the limp bodies lying on the ground.

You search for your partner as you walk past broken furniture and office equipment, passing the body parts separated from the corpses who suffered the worst from the eruption. Unfortunately, you were hurt considering your limp, and the ringing in your ears definitely didn’t help. Your hearing has been out since you woke up. You search the police department, watching out for anyone familiar as you yell out, “Naoto!”

You continue through the damage, dodging any object that falls as you walk around the flames. An abrupt pressure on your back caused you to fall to the ground with a grunt, your hearing coming back just as you made impact with the floor. The platform of the bottom of someone’s shoe pushes you back to the ground when you try to pick yourself up.

The man behind you grabs a carton from out of his pocket, lifting the top before pulling a cigarette out. He set the box back in his suit’s jacket pocket before using a nearby flame to light it as he stretched his arm out. He brought the butt of the stick to his lips and sucked in as the remaining flame went out on the end of the cigarette. The man rubs the sweat off of his forehead using the sleeve of his suit, a strand of blonde hair swaying over his face as he drops the arm. He blew the smoke out as he gazed at your figure.

“I warned him about letting you go.” You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Kazutora?” He takes another hit of his cigarette, holding his breath as he ashed it before blowing the smoke out of his mouth once more. A smirk grew on his face.

“You know, Y/n… I never took you for a snitch.”

“I never took you as a coward, but here we are. You kill people to feel a sense of control yet you’re always following someone else’s orders, seeking approval by anyone who’ll give it to you.” You state, irritated by the heat and the foot on your back.

The grin on his lips fell as he took another hit before leaning over and pressing the burning end of the cigarette against your neck. You gasp before releasing a shriek of pain, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. He holds it there for a moment as he stares down at you with a blank expression. He lifts himself back to a normal position once he removes the cigarette from your skin. A fresh bruise formed in the abused spot.

“Why did you guys become such fucking assholes?” You cry out.

“Come on, don’t start crying on me now Doll…” He chuckled, “…gotta save that for later when Mikey gets his hands on you.”

Before you could fight him off, his fingers squeezed firm against your pressure point. Your vision blurs before your head drops as you sink into darkness.

Your eyes flutter open as a spotlight shines on you. Attempting to lick your lips, you find yourself with a gag secured around your mouth. The red ball stretches your lips uncomfortably as they yearn to be moisturized. Your arms are cuffed above your head as your body is spread out completely nude on the bed. Your shrieks are muffled as the light dims, your knees pressed together as you attempt to cover yourself when you look down and eye the seven figures sitting out on a slightly lower platform, as if you’re on a small stage.

Marijuana and alcohol fills the air, along with the smell of tobacco as you watch the smoke fumes form above a few of the men. Your eyebrows furrow as your toes curl, embarrassment causing a warm face as you shut your eyes tightly, wishing to escape this moment as you’re sprawled out for a bunch of dangerous men. You hear footsteps in the quiet room, someone walking towards the bed.

Mikey appears in your vision as he looks down at you from the side. Your eyes water as you glare at him, disbelief from the fact that your own brother set you up like this. The boy you grew up with who inspired you to go past your own limits. The boy who wanted to make a new era for delinquents. No, you couldn’t believe this.

His fingers slowly traced over your stomach as they moved towards your chest, grazing around the outlining of your breasts. You couldn’t help the whimper of desperation spilling out through the gag, your body beginning to tremble as you realized the gravity of this vulnerable situation. You wanted this to stop. You wanted it all to stop before there’s no return.

“I left you alone…” His fingers dragged themselves across the middle of your breasts, slow and delicate with his touch. “…I warned you, Y/n.”

He slightly leans over as his hand moves to your lower stomach, rubbing the lining nearest to your pubis. Your breath hitched as you gaze at him with wide teary eyes.

“You’ve never been one to listen, have you?” The small smile that formed as he said the statement vanished as quickly as it came. Your stomach sucked in as he used his fingers to lightly glide back up to your chest before circling his hand around your neck, his index finger tapping your face twice. He leaned forward until he hovered right over your face.

“You’ll learn.” You release a shriek as your eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the burnt skin against your neck, adding a painful pressure to the wound as the tears streamed down your face. When you open your eyes to a squint, his gaze is relaxed. His eyes made him look dead. He released you before walking to the end of the stage and turning to face the crowd, his hands behind his back.

“From now on you belong to me.” He turns his upper body to face you. “You’ll only get to eat, sleep, and breathe because of me. You will do as I say.” A taller figure began to walk on the stage, a familiar pair of purple eyes gazing down at your figure with his signature sly smile. The tall short haired man held a baton that rests on his shoulder as he stops next to the bed, closer to your lower body.

“You deemed yourself a traitor so you will be held accountable. Sister or not.”

You fidget with discomfort as you eye the weapon Ran holds with a concerned expression. He only gives you a mischievous smile in return as he drops his arm, awaiting instructions from his boss.

“If you disobey me…” His eyes switch to Ran before the taller man brings his other hand to the object, fingers adjusting as he lifts his arms. Your eyes widen once more as you hysterically pull against your restraints, legs moving as you attempt to move your body to the side to no avail.

You release a blood curdling scream as your eyes shut tight, the impact causing a loud smack to echo in the room as the end of the baton makes contact with the skin on your thigh. The pain is broad, big. So intense that your whole leg numbs out as your body attempts to protect you. Blood immediately makes its way through your skin as an ugly bruise begins formation. You sob in agony as your head falls back on the bed. You shake your head as you bite the gag.

A cold chill is brought to your body as heat overcomes you, sweat dripping down your forehead as Mikey walks closer to you, staring down at you with the same blank expression. Sanzu watches the display with gleaming eyes, a wide smile on his face as he licks his bottom lip, biting it after as he’s mesmerized by the show in front of him. It was a gorgeous sight, you sprawled out on the bed naked in front of them under Mikey’s control. Your face is so wet with tears and an expression of fear and distress. So vulnerable and fragile. Your skin breaking with ease as the blood dripping down made him want to lick it up. He couldn’t wait to get a hold of you. After all, he’s waited for so long under Mikey’s command. His failed attempt at protecting you. Someone so resilient and yet so weak.

Kazutora is leaned back in his seat with a leg crossed over, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as he eyes you with no emotion. He ignored the erection forming in his pants as you’re forced into submission, bound by the cuffs as your beautiful voice blesses the room with your cries. A red hue forms on his face as he watches Ran hit you again in a different spot on the same thigh. His cock twitched when he heard your loud scream, the gag doing you no justice. He crossed his arms as he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

Takeomi sat with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the scene. He never really knew you so he couldn’t care less of your position. He just finds it hilarious to watch the rest of the men simp over Mikey’s infamous cute, bratty little sister. He’s surprised you hadn’t been killed on the spot for becoming a traitor. The leeway his boss is giving you is impeccable. Otherwise you’d be torn apart limb from limb, slaughtered and violated from the inside out. Long gone. This is nothing. He’ll admit that seeing your bitchy ass getting it in is a very sweet sight to see.

Kokonoi sighed as he turned away from the scene. Having remembered you from their delinquent days made this situation all the more sickening. He still couldn’t deny the view of you laid out the way you are having an effect on the cock sitting in his pants. It was uncomfortable, especially since he deems himself as sick as someone like Sanzu or the Haitani brothers for getting turned on by this in the first place.

Kakucho’s eyes followed Ran’s fingers, swiping some of the blood off of your leg before bringing it to his lips. You lay there, sobbing as Mikey caressed both sides of your face. He knew something like this would occur as soon as he began gaining information from the dirty cops about you involving yourself. Although he felt bad for you, he knew that you had it coming. You were warned and now you must deal with the consequences. He palmed himself before squeezing slightly to ease himself as he shifts in his seat, rock hard as he chews on his lip.

“Should I hit the other thigh, boss?” Ran’s smooth voice filled the room as he gently rubbed his thumb along the untouched thigh. You shook your head as you pleaded through the ball gag. You were so focused on switching your gaze between Mikey and Ran that you completely missed the third presence making his way to the foot of the bed.

Drool accidentally fell out of your mouth as you continued to cry and beg for Mikey to let you go and to not hurt you again. It was humiliating but you were in too much pain to care. You had to get out of there. You regret not listening. You regret not leaving him alone. You just want to escape. You just want to go home and hug yourself while you cry. You wanted to see your friends again, your sister Emma. You missed Shinichiro, Baji, your grandpa, Draken, Mitsuya, and everyone else. You missed them all and you wanted a big hug from them.

You wanted to feel safe, to feel loved again. You didn’t like this cold darkness that’s dragging you to a hell you never thought you’d experience. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn. You just missed your brother, your friends who disappeared. Thumbs drape under your eyes as the tears are wiped away only for more to stream down your cheeks. You feel the ball gag unhook around your mouth as your chapped lips connect, licking them desperately as you continue to sob and pant.

“P-please let me go! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Mikey I-I’ll listen! I’ll leave you alone just please…!” You rambled your apologies as he continued to gaze at you with the onyx orbs that felt as though they were forcing you to drown in his own darkness. Dragging you under with him into the void everyone so desperately tries to fill or escape from.

“I-I just wanted my big brother! I-I needed you to be who you were! I was wrong…” You sob, “…so fucking wrong. You’re too far gone!” Your hands turned to fists as your breath hitched as he climbed on top of you.

“You’re right. I am no longer your Mikey.”

Your hands tremble as you watch him reach into his pants to pull out his throbbing cock.

“No… no, no, no! Y-you can’t!” You plead as you realize what’s about to happen.

The younger Haitani grabs your ankle as he picks your leg up, along with the older brother who holds up your bruised leg. Mikey adjusts himself in between your legs as he spreads his own knees against the mattress.

“M-Mikey this is so fucked up! P-please! You fucking asshole!” You could only feel rage and despair as you watched him spit in his hand and rub his cock, moisturizing it nowhere near enough for it to easily slip through you.

“Oh shit.” Sanzu breathes out in excitement as the rest of the executives mentally sit on the edge of their seats. They watched the display, some with arousal and excitement while others with slight guilt and arousal. The air was thick in the room as Rin’s grip tightened on your ankle while moving his other hand to the bottom of your foot.

“You’ll learn.” Mikey whispers near your ear before he finally pushes in slowly. Your head falls back with your mouth wide open, nails digging in your own palms as the girth stretches you painfully. Your eyebrows furrow as you clench your teeth. He released a breathy moan as his mouth hangs open, head falling to your shoulder as your pussy squeezed him tightly. You both grunt when he finally bottoms out, base and testicles pressed firmly against you as he shifts his arms under you to hold the back of your neck with both hands.

He eyed the girl with a blank expression as she stood with her hand wrapped in Grandpa Sano’s. Even at his young age he could tell that she had been through quite a lot by the look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He says as he pats your eight year old head. You sat with tears streaming down your face with your arms crossed as you pouted angrily at the fact that you lost against your fight with Baji who would help you practice your skills along with Mikey.

“You’ll learn.” He said with a smile as he gazed down at you.

You gasp as you feel his thick length pulling out of you, rubbing against the lining of your walls before he bucks his hips against you with a firmer thrust causing you to grunt in pain.

“You belong to me.” The teen growled.

“Kazutora is my friend! I’m gonna visit him whether you like it or not.” You glare at your brother before stomping away from the shrine.

Truth be told he didn’t like the way you made him feel. So out of control. So out of the loop. He knows that he’s your inspiration. He loves how worthy you deem him to be. He loves that you follow him around all the time like you're his little companion. His little sister. His.

If only you knew how hard it was to allow you on your own. To allow you to make your own decisions. To have abandoned you when he knew you were still vulnerable from everything you both went through. You don’t know how hard it is being the big brother of someone who’s just so fucking stubborn. He was afraid that he would lose you in the midst of his corruption, the dark impulse taking over day by day, so he left you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as his pace accelerates, hips pulled back before thrusting against you as his grip tightens. His cock slides in and out of your pussy as the juice slickens the erection, making it easier to access as he presses deeper and deeper. The bed rocks as the thrusts become faster and firmer, the smacking echoing throughout the room as it becomes harder to hold back your grunts and moans.

You whimpered as you felt a pressure form against the ankle held by Rin. You make eye contact with him as his lips curl into a mischievous smile. You felt goosebumps form as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, an impending sense of doom coming over you just as Mikey’s cock aimed for your erogenous zone, pounding your g-spot once you reacted with a shriek.

Mikey walks to the car sitting outside the club he had you meet him at after your conversation was finished. Five of his executives stood outside as he turned his attention to Kakucho.

“Watch her every move.”

He had a feeling you’d try something though he didn’t expect for you to involve the cops. Especially the detective that’s always on his ass.

“You. *Thrust* Belong. *Thrust* To me.” Mikey uses a hand to squeeze your chin, forcing your eyes to meet as you pant and sob.

All of the executives watch with dazed expressions as Mikey bitched you out. Some biting their own lips while others palmed their covered erections. Mikey eyed your face as it morphed while the pit in your stomach builds, indicating the nearing of your orgasm. He used one hand to balance himself against the headboard as he grabbed the leg Ran was holding to gain better access. He thrusts against you as his cock rubbed the inner lining of your vaginal walls, slick oozing out of your hole, a mixture of his semen and your juices forming.

The pain in your leg throbs as he pushes your leg up, causing you to whimper. You tried to hold in your moans, the feeling of the head of his cock hitting your cervix was overwhelming. Instead, grunts replaced the moans with each firm thrust against your ass. The hand on your leg tightens as you watch his eyes narrow down at you with his lips apart.

“This pussy is mine. Your cum is mine. Everything about you…” a thrust with a loud smack against your ass caused a moan to slip through his throat. “…is mine.”

Your head is pressed against the mattress as you feel the pit in your stomach release, the chemical reaction causing your mouth to open as a silent scream leaves your throat, eyes rolled back as he continues to beat into your pussy.

“Ah…” Mikey breathes, “…that’s fucking right, cum on this cock.” He said before using his fingers to press onto your wound made by the baton. You scream out in agony. The chains jingle as you pull against the restraints.

“You’ll learn. You’re gonna learn to listen to me.” He breathes out before switching his eyes to Rin.

“M-Mikey pl-!” You whimper, pleading for him to stop as you’re overstimulated, though his cock keeps its pace, assaulting your pussy as it slides through harder. Blood runs down your wrists, coming from the split skin caused by your nails. You accidentally glance at Ran who stares down at you hungrily. You could see the lust in his intense gaze, causing you to turn away.

“I don’t care how close you were or even the little crush you have on her. You will ask before touching her, got it?”

“Yes, boss.” Both Kazutora and Sanzu respond with stern expressions.

“N-No! What are you…?!” A loud crack fills the air amongst the sound of the rocking bed as your eyes shut tight, a monstrous scream escaped your lips as the pressure on your ankle created a numbing yet sharp pain that swam up your leg to your knee. You shakily look down to see your limp leg in Rin’s hand, ankle bent out of place as your foot hangs there. A swelling started to form as the skin tingled. It was surely broken.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!” You’re hysterical. The pain, overstimulation, and heat. The betrayal, sickness, and depression. The sorrow, despair, and downright filthy situation. All of the eyes on you. It was all just too much.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!” His forehead meets yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. His eyes shut as he thrusts hard, accelerating his speed before a breathy, drawn out moan escapes his mouth, just as Rin grabbed your other ankle.

Kazutora and Sanzu sit with discomfort as they angrily eye the Haitani brothers, realizing it should’ve been them holding your legs and punishing you. After all, they’ve known you the longest. They were closer to you. They were there for everything. Their erections become tighter as you thrash around and scream. Your rage fulfills them in an unexplainable way. They never knew why your rebellion always struck them in the heart. Who knew they’d be this stuck over their friend’s little bratty sister.

“I’m cumming.” Mikey whispers with his head against yours as he breathes out a moan. He grinds out his orgasm just as another crack fills the room, followed by an appalling scream from you. You cry as he pulls himself out of you. The swelling from both legs tingle as you lie there in terrible pain. Agony comes from your neck and both of your legs. As well as your vagina. You couldn’t believe what your own brother just did.

“I hate you.” You sob. You wanted to curl into yourself but the restraints made it impossible.

“Awe don’t cry so much, cookie.” A thumb caressed your forehead as Ran stared you down. “All ya gotta do is be good, now.”

“Or else…” Rin chuckled as he slightly dangled one of your broken ankles. You only sob in response, ignoring them as you try to refrain from making eye contact. You wanted to disappear.

Before he climbs off of you, Mikey leans over to plant a kiss on your lips. You don’t push him back nor respond to the peck. He pulls his pants up as he walks toward the other executives.

“Do what you will, just have her cleaned and brought to my room after.”

“I’ll always be the one to protect you, Y/n. You belong to me.”

You look into the eyes of your older brother, tears in your own as you hug him tight. You both sat on the ground in front of Shinichiro’s grave.

“You’ll learn.”

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starsomens · 3 months

Note

Okay hear me out

Noah and the reader have been together for years and one day when he came back home preparing for a special date with the reader she came in and they had a huge argument because of fake dating rumours about him and someone else online and the reader goes back to where she originally lived and the guys promised her that they wouldn't let Noah go but eventually he does chase after her to explain everything but here's the thing the day of the date...

He was going to propose.

idk if you like this idea just something that came up in my mind at 3am I just need you to write a actual good version of my version

Love you so much❤

Hello my love! It did not ignore this it’s because I took THAT long to get it all done 😭

I will use Poppy as a place holder of the rumors for this ask. I DO NOT CONDONE SENDING HATE TO POPPY OR SUPPORT OR SPREAD ANY RUMORS OR SPECULATION ABOUT HER!

"Don't act like you don't love the attention you getting from her!" you yell back at him

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you fucking hear yourself?" he yells back

This was a very explosive argument. This was their biggest tour yet, and successful nonetheless! But...there of course is always a downside to things and in this case it was, rumors. Specifically, romance rumors with Poppy since he had been seen with her a few times. The first was at the release party where Noah was attending without you....then the tour started.

You were tagged in countless pictures and posts of Poppy and Noah how everyone was calling them a cute couple, asking about you and asking if you both had split. Then the handshakes started, no it wasn't a big deal but with everything piling on....her doing something like a handshake...something so cute....you only wanted it to be with you

He came home wanting to take you out but you were just so tired and over everything. You didn't even give Noah one of your long passionate kisses like you usually did

"Yeah I do! It sounds like one of us is making sense!"

"Goddamn it Y/N, what the fuck is your problem?"

"You and her are my problem!" you were trying hard to hold back tears and keep your voice strong

"Will you fucking grow up, she toured with us, she sang on stage-"

"She wore you jacket, she did handshakes with you, you twirl her-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? A twirl? How old are you 5?"

"You don't fucking get it Noah," you sigh sitting back down on the sofa massaging your temples "it's more than that-"

"No it's not Y/N! You're fucking jealous over an artist who toured with us! You're so fucking insecure you can't stand to think I'm talking or interacting with some girl I work with," he snapped "i bust my ass on tour, show after show and I come back only for you to put up this bullshit?"

"......"

"Yeah keep you're fucking mouth shut because you know you're on some bullshit letting social media dictate our relationship like the gullible dumbass you are!"

You felt your chest snap and you bite your inner cheek as you stand from the sofa and go near the front door.

“Y/N….Y/N wait, I didn’t mean that you know what I mean- it’s- you’re not-“

The door slams and you left your shared home. You just walked instead of taking the car and that way he just wouldn't know where you were since the car was home. You even texted Nick and Jolly to keep him at bay because you just wanted space and to be alone.

This is NOT how this night was supposed to go....at all. AT ALL! He wanted to come home, take you to your favorite place, some ice cream after and then ask you to-

*Knock knock*

It was Nick and Jolly, they had com initially to try and calm the situation down, mostly Noah and to figure out what happened and how it all went down hill. Well, Noah explained what had happened. He started to hear the story for himself from his own mouth, and he stopped in the middle of the story and just stood up from the couch.

“I need to find her.”

“Look man, I think she just wants her space this was a lot-“

“You don’t get it Nick I NEED to find her. One way or another I’m gonna talk to her and apologize”

They really did try and stop him. They tried to stop him from leaving the house, but somehow his lanky ass got out the door. He gone to the car and drove around for a few minutes thinking of where you could possibly be. He tried calling and texting you and you were completely ignoring him. He even asked your friends, but he knew that they wouldn’t give him any information knowing that if he told them, he upset you, they would never want to hear from him again.

“Come on think! Think!” He scolds himself “…….wait what if-“

He makes a sudden turn on his next right. There was one place he could try, it may have been a slight chance but he remembered you said that it was strangely cozy and calming to be there. And it was a close enough walk to get there in about 10 minutes or so

As soon as he makes it to his studio building, he parks quickly and makes his way to the door and upstairs. Usually he would like doing some studio work at Home, most times when he is in the studio it’s when he’s working with the rest of the boys or really just needs to focus into the song he’s working on. He had you with him couple times and you really liked it there. He had given you a copy of the key to the studio only because if you ever felt that you were unsafe or you needed somewhere to go he wanted me to be somewhere where people knew you and he knew you’d be safe there. It was more than an emergency type of thing for you to have the key, but this was the one place he knew that you may be in.

He he he thought that you may have not been there, but he heard the very familiar sniff of you when you were crying….shit.

He gives a knock to one of the tables as to not startle you. He sees you and walks over to you, huddled into a ball and you were facing away from him. You knew his presence was there, but you didn’t want to look at him he said.

“Hey…..” he has no idea why he would start that way when he knew that you wouldn’t answer that

“Y/N, look I know I fucked up and I shouldn’t have said what I said, and you know that I didn’t mean it. I never think of you that way-“

“ but you still said it. It Hass to be true for you in some part of your mind…..” wasn’t true at all. He was just spewing bullshit. He doesn’t think any of that you ever in his entire life.

“No I don’t. Y/N, was being stupid Oky? I didn’t mean anything when I said that. None of that is true. I’ve never seen you that way in my eyes you know that….im sorry.” he knew that no matter what his explanations were he still had to apologize to you and he really was sorry from the deepest parts of his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the person he loved the most in this world.

His heart broke every time he heard you sniff, or he saw the very faint shape of a tear falling down your cheek

“Y/N…. You know when we started dating I had a really deep talk here actually with Nicolas. that’s when I told him that I was seeing you, but I also told him that I was really scared…” he admits, you never heard from him “ I was scared because I didn’t know I would be doing the right thing and I didn’t know if I knew how to be a good partner in a relationship, especially because of growing popularity of the band I was…afraid that it would scare you off”

You turn your head just a bit, but not completely as you listen to his story

“ and Nick gave me probably the best advice I could have for that moment. He told me that relationships wouldn’t be easy because they never are and I’m going to fuck up really bad sometimes….. and you’ll forgive me even though I fucked up really bad. You should have forgive me still did.

“I-“

“ if you don’t forgive me, I understand. But I need you to understand that I know in this world you’re…you’re my entire world at this point, my source of happiness. Was supposed to go this way. I had an entire thing planned and I fucked it up because I didn’t reassure you in the right way.”

“Noah I….maybe I was-“

“No you weren’t. I know what you’re going to say and you weren’t being overdramatic you weren’t being jealous. Miscommunication, but that wasn’t your fault. It was mine for not clearing it up. I wanted to do this in a different setting and a different way but…” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box. He opens it to reveal delicate, like it was personally crafted to his design.

“Noah…..” you just couldn’t pinpoint your mix of emotions. You were still mad at him but at the same time you should have known better than to believe rumors and he pulled out.

“Y/N, my princess, my world, my muse, my everything. You’re the reason I keep going and keep trying to be a better person. The amount of questions I’ve answered as to how I’ve been able to do so many things and accomplish so many obstacles and just improve myself as a person and an artist…. All my answers come back to you. You are the reason for everything. We had a lot of thinking to do and one of the constant thoughts in my mind was you….”

You turned around fully facing him, fat tears running down your cheeks, and all you could do was just guck at him while he poured his emotions out. You were mad at him you knew how hard it was for him to fully express himself emotionally.

“… constantly every issue, every decision I always went back to you and how he would feel and what you would say. I love you. I went to the local jewelers and looked at rings and I bought it without hesitation because I just knew. I’m an asshole, and a jerk,”

“And a big fat meanie pants” you throw in your inside joke and he chuckles

“Yes, the biggest meaniest pants in the world. But the one thing I know I’m sure of is that I love you and I don’t want to picture the rest of my life without you. Y/N….will you give me the honor of being your husband? If you’ll still have me.”

You chuckle as the tears still fall

“ you are the dumbest guy I’ve ever dated…..”

He could feel his heart sinking his chest, thinking that you were about to rip him a new one, and he wouldn’t blame you….

“But, you’re also the most sincere I’ve been with……Noah, somehow always find a way to make up for your wrongs and I have no idea how you do it” you giggle as you closer to him, he was still holding the box waiting for your response

“ as long as you promise you’ll make up for tonight I think I can marry you”

“Awh even after I poured my entire soul out to you?” he says, sarcastically holding a hand over his chest. “ I think I can work something out.”

“You better, I can take my back answer back” smile slides the ring onto your finger and hold your hand tightly

“Eh I don’t think so baby, you’re stuck with me for life now,” he slides his hand up your arm after he puts the ring on and gently squeezes and caress the skin with his thumb

“I really am sorry baby. Truly deeply sorry.” he stands up and holds your hands as he do to bring you up with him and he brings you into a hug as he repeatedly kisses your head. “ and makes it up to you. I think I know a way to put those rumors to rest.”

“You do?” You looking up at him and he gives you a nod

The next day, Noah takes it upon himself to get back onto his social media platforms and announce his engagement to you. He made sure to include some of his favorite pictures of you guys together and wrote a heartfelt small paragraph. Putting arrest to the rumors and addressing who it was in his life that he loved the most.

It was saved to say that the band and him had blown up over the next week with the engagement course, Noah wasn’t big on social media as he has stated before and it wasn’t a huge deal but him going out of his way to put a statement out there on your end his behalf really did mean something to you. Next step was to plan for the actual wedding.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #star’s anons✨#bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #noah sebastian x reader #star’s mutuals✨#bad omens fanfiction #star’s blurbs✨

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gigabyte-flare · 6 months

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: You awake in a top secret facility where you learn of Leon's true nature

Word Count: 5.9k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

“Where’s Leon?”

“In this building.”

“Where am I?”

“At the BSAA North America headquarters in Washington D.C..”

“BSAA?”

“The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.”

“Did Leon do something wrong?”

The man called Clive lets out a chuckle, leaning back in his chair, “that’s a loaded question.”

You feel a lump form in the back of your throat. You swallow it back, remaining silent in hopes that Clive will continue.

“Nine years ago, the president’s daughter was kidnapped by a cult in Spain called Los Illuminados. D.S.O. Agent Leon S. Kennedy was sent to rescue her. Both of them had become infected with a bioweapon-- a parasite the cult called Las Plagas. Leon had successfully removed the parasite from the president’s daughter, however…”

Clive pauses and you can feel your heart start to race at the implication, but still you press, “however, what?”

Clive clears his throat, “by the time the U.S. government realized Leon was still infected, he was long gone, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He’s been on the run for nine years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The hikers? That man at the festival? Your father? They’re all his victims,” Clive states.

“You’re lying!” you shout, standing up from the chair and slamming your hands onto the table.

“The plaga feeds on blood in order to survive; it seems to have an affinity to human blood, too.”

“You do realize this sounds absolutely insane, you’re making it sound like Leon’s a vampire or something.”

Clive chuckles again, “that honestly wouldn’t be that far from the truth,” you watch his eyes glance to your swollen belly, “I take it that’s Leon’s baby you're pregnant with?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly before sitting back in the chair, crossing your arms, “it is.”

“Shit…”

“What?”

Clive takes a deep breath before continuing, “I hate to tell you this, but your baby isn’t entirely human.”

Your eyes widen, “excuse me?! Now you’re fucking with me, this is insane!”

“Don’t you find it odd that Leon hasn’t taken you to a single prenatal appointment? Odd that your pregnancy seems to be progressing awfully fast?”

You stand back up again, angrily shaking your finger at Clive, “you are full of shit!”

“Deny it all you want, it’s the truth. Unfortunately you’re too far along in your pregnancy to safely abort, we’ll have to wait until you give birth so we can euthanize it; we’ll make sure it’s done humanely.”

“No one is coming near my baby! You’re just trying to scare me!”

You watch Clive reach into his jacket, pulling out a photo and placing it on the table in front of you. What you see immediately makes you pause and stare. It’s a poorly lit room, a person is tied to the support beam, covered in blood and what you assume is bite marks on their neck.

“This was taken in Leon’s basement after we apprehended him. This is why he kept the basement locked.”

You can’t take your eyes off the photo, especially after you realize you recognize the clothes; it’s a woman that had gone missing after coming out of a work Christmas party in Plymouth; you had seen a photo of her at the party on the news. You feel chills go up your spine.

"Unfortunately she died from blood loss when we were transporting her to our clinic," Clive states.

You swallow hard before making eye contact with Clive, “what the hell is going on…?”

“I think it will be easier to show you, come with me,” Clive replies, standing up from his chair and motioning for you to follow him.

You hesitate for a moment before you decide to follow, going back out into the hallway. The two of you eventually make your way to a single elevator, watching Clive swipe a card and then call the elevator. It beeps before the doors slide open and the two of you step inside.

“How long have you been watching us?” you ask, figuring out that based on what Clive had said to you about Leon not taking you for prenatal check-ups, that someone was watching you and Leon’s every move.

“Shortly after Halloween, a police officer in Oakvale had reached out to the FBI to ask about Leon; in turn the FBI reached out to us. We had to ensure that it was definitely him before making our move.”

You nod, shifting uncomfortably on your feet and unconsciously rubbing your belly. After a couple minutes, the elevator door opens and Clive steps out, you follow him closely. Several men in lab coats turn and greet Clive.

“Director O’Brien! For what do we owe the pleasure?” one of the scientists asks before looking at you, “is this…?”

“Yes she is,” Clive replies, “has he been fed yet?”

The scientist looks back at Clive, shaking his head, “not yet, we were just about to get ready to.”

“Excellent, bring us to the observation room.”

“Of course, director.”

The scientist leads the way bringing you down another hallway that’s barricaded with several large steel doors. At the end, he turns to a door on the left, swiping a keycard and inputting a passcode, causing the door to slide open. You can’t help but feel like you somehow woke up in a science fiction movie. You pinch yourself again to make sure you’re definitely not dreaming.

Once in the room, the scientist pulls up the blinds on a large window and you see Leon, still in just his sweatpants, sitting on a basic metal bed hunched over, staring at the floor. Your heart seemingly skips as you rush up to the window, putting your hands on the glass.

“Leon…” you say softly.

From what you can see, there is nothing out of the ordinary about Leon and you start to reckon that they have the wrong man. Leon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looking around the room, you notice there is a purple hue. You look up at the room’s ceiling and see that between each fluorescent light is a purple one; the same lights that you saw when you and Leon had gotten ambushed at home.

“What are the purple lights?” you ask, turning to Clive as you remove your hands from the glass.

“High powered ultraviolet lights. The plaga can’t stand sunlight. That’s why he only hunts at night.”

Suddenly, a walkie talkie that is sticking out of Clive’s outer jacket pockets goes off, “We’re ready to commence feeding if you are, director.”

Clive grabs the walkie talkie out of his jacket and replies, “proceed.”

On the left side of the room, a door slides open and a blindfolded man is pushed in and the door closes. The man practically falls onto his face. The man sits up on his knees and you see that his hands are bound behind his back.

“He’s a death row inmate,” Clive says, answering a question you hadn’t even asked, “we have a partnership with the penitentiary and they supply us with inmates that are going to be executed.”

Your attention is drawn back into Leon’s room when the UV lights are switched off and the fluorescent lights dim. Your eyes are drawn to Leon when he suddenly lifts his head, his eyes locked on the man that’s in the midst of a panic attack in the middle of the room. Before your eyes, you watch dark, inky veins start to spread over Leon’s exposed skin. Leon suddenly stands up, walking towards the man like a predator stalking its prey. Movement coming from behind Leon makes your breath hitch; a long, jet black tail comes out of Leon’s back; the closest thing you can compare it to is a scorpion’s tail.

That isn’t all, four more appendages come out of his back, these looking like claws. You want to close your eyes, you want to run, but you can’t; your eyes remain locked on Leon. In a split second, Leon pounces onto the man, the man’s cries for help going unanswered as you watch Leon’s mouth latch itself onto his neck. The four claws latch onto the man as his tail whips itself back and forth as Leon feasts upon him. You suddenly feel your baby shift in your belly.

Leon suddenly stops, unlatching himself from his meal and looking directly at you.

“Can he see us?” you ask, your voice shaking.

“No, it’s a two way mirror,” Clive replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

Leon stands up walking right up to the window, his eyes locked onto you. To your horror, you see his eyes are red, seemingly glowing in the dim light. His blood stained mouth hangs agape and you can see that all four of his incisors are elongated and sharp. Leon puts his hands onto the glass, his gaze still locked onto you.

“Angel?” he says, his eyes widening, “is that you?”

His tail moves back and forth as he stares at you and that’s when your baby inside you starts moving erratically, causing you to wince in pain as you grab your belly.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Leon continues, his hands running down the glass, leaving trails of blood behind, “this is not how I wanted to show you my gift.”

“Gift?” you whisper, taking a couple of steps back from the window.

“He’s referring to the plaga.” Clive replies.

“Our little girl has the gift, too,” Leon continues, his right hand pets the glass as you watch his gaze shift to your belly, made even more unsettling knowing that he can’t see you, “isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Your baby shifts again, feeling your baby’s foot go up your rib cage, causing you to yelp as you once again grab your swollen belly.

There’s no way your baby is reacting to him right? Right?

You watch as Leon’s crimson eyes narrow, one of his fists balling up and punching the glass, causing it to crack. You scream, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor as Leon throws another punch at the glass, cracking it further. Clive rushes over, picking you up off the floor as he grabs his walkie talkie.

“Turn those damn UV lights back on! NOW!” he shouts into the walkie talkie as he pulls you out of the observation room.

You turn and look back as the UV lights are powered back on, Leon letting out the most inhuman scream you’ve ever heard in your life and in an instant, you watch his grotesque appendages retreat back into his body as he stumbles away from the glass, clutching his head with his hands.

As you and Clive retreat back to the elevator, Leon’s cries of your name fill the halls.

You have no idea how much time has passed since the incident with Leon. Clive had you relocated to a more comfortable room at the facility; it has furniture, a small refrigerator and a window to look outside. You’re sitting in a rocking chair next to the window, rubbing your pregnant belly unconsciously as you watch a gentle snowfall outside. Over and over, your brain plays out the last few months since you returned home from dropping out of college.

Every little thing you had noticed that was odd suddenly made sense: eating the rarest meat imaginable, that one time you thought he had sharp teeth when he bit into his burger, him suddenly going into the basement, him getting up in the middle of the night to ‘check traps,’ the day they found what was left of your father, that smile he had on his face was burned into the back of your mind. Your eyes unconsciously widen at another revelation; the red eyes you saw in your window that night, they were Leon’s.

“It was him… he was the B.O.W. the whole time…” you whisper to yourself, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

The sound of the door opening startles you and you watch Clive walk in, giving you a gentle smile and wave as he steps into the room.

“I just spoke with your mother,” Clive says, taking a seat on your bed across from where you sit, “I let her know you were experiencing complications in your pregnancy and that you had to be taken to a specialist in D.C., so she at least knows where you are. I didn’t mention Leon to her.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly, letting out a sigh as you return your attention back out the window.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

“Empty? Lost? I’m not sure what to feel… I feel like the last few months have been a cruel lie,” you reply honestly, wiping more tears that run down your face away with the back of your hand.

“I know and I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard this has been for you.”

“Is it true that you can’t cure him?” you ask, looking back over at Clive.

Clive nods, “unfortunately. The parasite has completely taken over his body, if we try to remove it, he will die.”

“How… how is he?” you ask, not really sure you actually want the answer.

“He’s refusing to feed. We’ll have to execute him sooner than we intended,” Clive replies, leaning forward, resting his forearms onto his legs.

“Execute?!”

Clive nods, “yes, he’s too dangerous to keep alive. Our hope was to study the plaga inside of him before putting him out of his misery, but he’s making that difficult.”

“Is there any chance I could say goodbye to him before he’s executed?”

Clive stares at you puzzled for a moment before replying, “I believe I can have that arranged.”

“Good,” you say with a soft sigh of relief.

Despite everything, you still love him. You still love the baby growing inside of you. The thought that both of these things that you love so dearly are going to get taken from you absolutely kills you.

“I’ll make sure to come get you when that time comes,” Clive says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the door, “don’t hesitate to give us a holler if you need anything.”

You believe another few days passes, you awake one morning to the sound of wind howling; a blizzard seems to have come in. Just after you get yourself dressed and cleaned up, Clive once again comes into your room.

“It’s happening tonight,” Clive says, his look solemn.

You acknowledge him with a nod before following him out of your room and back to the elevator that brings you to the underground research facility. This time, instead of bringing you to the observation room, Clive brings you to the door leading to Leon’s containment chamber.

“Remember,” Clive begins, causing you to draw your attention to him, “we’ll be watching. We won’t let him hurt you.”

You nod as the door to his containment chamber slides open. You step inside the small chamber inside the door, it sprays some kind of mist on you which you suspect is some kind of sanitizer. After that, the final door opens and you see Leon, laying on his back staring at the ceiling. You step inside, listening as the door slides shut and locks, making your heart jump in nervousness. At first, Leon doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he continues to stare at the ceiling.

“Leon?” you finally speak up, your voice soft.

Leon lifts his head, staring at you for a moment before he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, practically running to you. He places his hands on your shoulders, looking at you in disbelief.

“Angel! You’re ok, I’ve been so worried!” he exclaims before planting a kiss onto your forehead.

Now you’re able to get a good look at him. His skin is extremely pale and you can see the faint, inky black veins all over his exposed skin. It reminds you of the time you had gone to the festival, before he had killed that man behind the fairground. Now you know why Leon had looked so terrible that day.

“I’ve been worried about you, too,” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong Angel? It’s just me,” Leon coos, his hand gently grasping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

His gaze shifts down to your belly, a smile slowly overtaking his lips as he stares down in awe; once again feeling your baby move inside you.

“My God… you’ve gotten so big! Our little girl is growing like a weed!” he says, the excitement evident in his voice as he places a hand on your belly, rubbing it slowly.

A hint of sadness hits you, knowing that as soon as your baby is born, it’s going to be humanely euthanized, but you don’t want to do anything that could cause Leon to lash out, so you keep that knowledge to yourself.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“She told me,” Leon explains, his gaze shifting back to you, “because of our gift, we are constantly connected.”

You feel your pulse pick up, feeling your baby continue to writhe inside you as Leon continues to rub your belly.

“I’m going to give you the gift, as well. We’ll be together in both body and mind. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Before you can even process what he just said to you, you notice there’s a sudden change in the lighting; your eyes dart around to see what changed when you notice the subtle purple hue is gone. The UV lights have been turned off. You want to panic, but you take deep breaths to try to keep yourself calm. You reckon it must be a mistake, they’ll turn the UV lights back on in any second. However, more agonizing seconds go by and you realize that they are not coming back on.

Leon slowly looks up, a smirk spreading across his lips when he realizes the UV lights are off, “well… that's convenient.”

He closes his eyes, rolling his neck and shoulders as you watch in horror as the dark veins on his skin get even darker. When he opens his eyes again, you are once again met with the crimson eyes that have haunted your subconscious since the day you saw Leon from the observation room. But now that he’s right in front of you, everything inside you is telling you to get away. You take a couple steps back away from him, his smirk immediately turning into a frown.

“No, no, no! It’s ok, I won’t hurt you, Angel,” he pleads, reaching out to you and grasping your upper arms to stop you from moving away, “I just want to take care of you.”

You watch as his tail snakes out from behind him, moving between the two of you. The end of it goes under your shirt and you watch as the blade-like end of his tail moves upwards, slicing through your shirt. Once your shirt is completely sliced open, his fingers gingerly push the remains of the shirt off you, exposing your swollen breasts to him. He brings one hand up, brushing one of your sensitive nipples under his thumb, causing a small white bead of liquid to come out before running down your breast, pooling onto your pregnant belly.

“Aw look, you’re making milk. Our little girl will need blood, not milk. No matter, I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste,” Leon says before leaning down, wrapping his mouth around the leaking nipple and sucking hard.

“L-Leon!” you cry out, trying to push him away.

You look over at the mirror, knowing that there are people watching. Does Leon know there are people watching? You want to cry out for help, to get someone to come get you out, but you can’t; you don’t want to risk invoking Leon’s fury. After what seems like an eternity, Leon unlatches himself from your breast, his crimson eyes staring down at you lustfully. A grin slowly forms on his face, showing off his long, sharp canine teeth.

He grasps you gently, coaxing you over to his bed where he spins you around, forcing you to bend over onto the bed with your knees on the floor. You rack your brain over what on Earth he’s doing when you feel a very sudden sharp pain in your shoulder, causing you to scream. You then hear a low moan; Leon’s mouth is latched onto your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep into your flesh as blood starts to pour out from the wound.

He releases his mouth from you briefly, his breaths heavy as he grips onto your waist, his hands then reaching around to undo your belt and pants, “you taste just as divine as I remember, Angel,” he purrs into your ear.

You start to question mentally what he’s talking about until you recall back to the first night you stayed at Leon’s house when the two of you had sex for the first time. He wasn’t just eating you out that night. He was feeding off you. This newest revelation causes a sudden wave of nausea to come over you, causing you to gag. You quickly cover your mouth with one hand while the other grips the sheets on his bed, tears burning the corners of your eyes, threatening to pour out.

He bites back down into your shoulder as his hands make quick work pulling down your pants and underwear, his fingers rubbing your slit slowly, gathering up the slick of your body’s arousal on his fingertips. While still feeding off you, he pulls down his sweatpants and you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Your eyes widen when you watch two of the claw-like appendages stab down onto the bed in front of you while the other two wrap around your waist, trapping you against him; you feel one of his hands rest on your hip while the other grips your hair, pulling your head back. It takes everything in you not to scream.

With a quick thrust of his hips, he buries his cock inside you, unlatching his mouth from your shoulder with a loud moan as his grip on your hair tightens. You cry out at the feeling of him practically splitting you in half; he feels so much larger than you remember. There’s also another sensation inside you, one you don’t recognize at all. It’s almost hard for your mind to even describe; like a thousand fingers are stroking your inner walls and your cervix and with each quick thrust of Leon’s hips, it feels amazing. You can’t help but let out a loud moan as Leon pistons himself into you, hurtling you towards your release.

“That’s it Angel, you’re doing so well for me. My perfect mate,” he purrs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, the hand on your hip gripping so tight that it’ll surely leave bruises, his other hand running down your neck before resting onto your other shoulder, “now, be a good girl and take my gift.”

Against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at him. Leon is opening his mouth and you watch as four mandibles come out from the depths of his mouth and you can hear something squealing from inside his throat. No longer able to put on a brave face, you start to scream, thrashing your body in a desperate attempt to get away from him. The strange sensation you noted inside you suddenly starts to sting as you try to get yourself off him and you feel the claws wrapped around your waist start to cut into your skin as they grip you tighter.

The door to Leon’s room suddenly opens and Clive along with two men with tactical gear and guns swarm in. Clive holds up a large UV flashlight, shining it directly at Leon’s head. Leon roars, the mandibles going back inside his mouth as he falls backwards, freeing you from his grasp. You quickly pull your underwear and pants back up before running over to Clive, using your arms to cover your exposed breasts. Clive positions you behind him as the two men move to either side of Leon, their guns drawn and pointed at him. One of the scientists then rushes inside the room, Clive turns his head to address him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Clive shouts at the scientist right before the UV lights turn back on.

You wince when you hear the inhuman cry come from Leon as he scrambles to crouch himself into the corner of the room, gripping his head and trembling.

“We just wanted to see what he would do, that’s all!” the scientist says, pleading with Clive.

“She nearly got infected! Was that part of your plan?!” Clive shouts, walking up to the scientist, getting in his face.

“Well, no…”

“The lead researcher will be hearing about this, now get out of our way, I need to take her back to her room,” Clive continues, practically shoving the scientist out of the way as he gently grasps your upper arm to lead you out of Leon’s containment chamber.

As you walk out, you turn and look at Leon, who’s still crouched in the corner; his eyes are locked onto you, a smirk spread across his lips.

Leon stays seated in the corner of his containment chamber for the majority of the day, only moving to relieve himself in the toilet inside his containment chamber. Scientists have been in and out of his containment chamber as well, almost as if they’re preparing for something, though he didn’t have the slightest clue of what that could be until the lead researcher comes in with his young assistant, who looks vaguely familiar to Leon.

The lead researcher takes Leon’s vitals and a blood sample, staying completely still through it all, watching the assistant take a seat on Leon’s bed, taking notes with a clipboard and pen.

“Dr. Jacobs, a question if I may?” the assistant suddenly asks.

“Go ahead, Chambers.”

Chambers. Rebecca Chambers. That’s why I recognize her…

Rebecca was a former member of S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team prior to the Raccoon City outbreak incident on September 30, 1971; Leon’s first day as a police officer. A part of him wishes he had died that day.

“How did he manage to infect the fetus? I thought you said it was transmitted via the bloodstream, hence why he bit her.” she asks, setting the clipboard and pen down onto the bed next to her.

Dr. Jacobs swallows hard as he turns to address her, “we believe there are plaga larvae in his semen, which fused with the embryo upon fertilization even though we found no larvae in the semen samples we were able to get. Somehow… the plaga inside him can control when a larva is released… absolutely extraordinary, a real shame we’re executing him tonight.”

Leon subtly raises an eyebrow.

“What about the baby?” Rebecca presses.

“The baby will be humanely euthanized upon birth, the BSAA wants to put the plagas parasite to bed for good even though the child could provide valuable data. I tried to fight it but O’Brien wouldn’t budge.”

What?

Leon remains calm on the outside, but on the inside, he is panicking. He has to protect his offspring at all cost, but how? That answer comes on a silver platter when he watches Rebecca stand up from the bed, grabbing the clipboard but leaving the pen behind on his bed. He waits a couple minutes to see if they realize she had left the pen in here. When he’s confident they’re not coming back in, he stands up, walking over to the bed and collapsing onto it, clutching the pen in his hand as he lays down. He turns, his back facing the camera that’s on the opposite wall pointed towards the bed.

During his stint in the military after surviving the Raccoon City outbreak, Leon picked up a few tricks, one being how to make lockpicks out of just about anything. He meticulously takes the mechanical pen apart, using the metal parts to make a crude lock pick, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand.

Later that evening, the door to his containment chamber opens and Dr. Jacobs comes in along with another man in tactical gear with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and a pistol strapped to his leg. Dr. Jacobs is carrying a metal folding chair, which he hands to the guard for him to set down onto the floor after opening.

“Sit,” the guard orders Leon, pointing at the chair.

“Yeah, yeah…” Leon replies, standing up from his bed and sitting in the chair.

“Hands behind your back. Now,” the guard barks.

Leon does as he’s ordered, putting his hands behind his back around the back of the chair. The guard walks behind him, handcuffing his wrists together. Unbeknownst to the guard, Leon has his makeshift lock pick wedged between two of his fingers, completely concealing it. The guard walks back around, standing in front of Leon as Dr. Jacobs prepares a syringe of bright green liquid. Slipping the lock pick out, he begins to pick the lock on his cuffs.

“It pains me to do this Leon, it really does,” says Dr. Jacobs as he approaches, the guard moving to the side of Leon to let him through, “you were a brilliant agent. I admit this will not be pleasant, but you won’t suffer for long, I promise.”

Leon manages to free himself just as Dr. Jacobs kneels down to inject him with the deadly serum in the syringe. In the blink of an eye, Leon snatches the syringe from Dr. Jacobs, stabbing it into his neck and pushing the syringe. Dr. Jacobs’ expression contorts as he collapses onto the floor, his body going into a seizure in what Leon imagines is the painful thralls of death.

The guard curses as Leon stands up from his chair, pointing his AK-47 at him to shoot. However, Leon’s too quick, he side steps and grabs the AK-47, using the strap slung around the guard’s body to strangle the man, all the while, the gun is still firing, shooting out all the lights in the ceiling, including the UV lights. Inky black veins quickly envelope Leon’s body and his eyes shift into the deep crimson as Leon bites into the guard’s exposed neck, drinking as much blood as he can in a short period of time.

He then kneels down to Dr. Jacobs’ lifeless body, searching his pockets to find a fob. With this fob in hand, the door to the containment chamber opens, allowing Leon to make his escape. He can sense his offspring is several floors above where he is, so he quickly finds the elevator, the fob allowing him access to it.

When the elevator doors open, several guards are waiting for him, guns drawn. In an instant, Leon’s tail and back appendages emerge and he practically leaps out of the elevator pinning one of the guards down and ripping out his throat while his tail whips around, decapitating and fatally stabbing the other guards. Just when Leon thinks he’s in the clear, he hears more footsteps coming towards him. He looks up, blood dripping from his mouth and chin and finds Director O’Brien with about 10 more guards behind him.

“I should have known you wouldn’t go quietly, Leon,” Director O’Brien says, crossing his arms.

“Where is my mate?” Leon growls, standing up to face them, using his back claws and tail to make himself look bigger.

“In a place you won’t get to, Leon. You’re not leaving this hallway alive,” Director O’Brien replies.

“We’ll see about that.”

Leon begins to step forward, his legs and arms mutating, turning black like his claws and tail. His fingers become more claw like and his legs contort to become more insect-like; his feet also transform into three toed claws. His jaw splits open to reveal rows of sharp elongated teeth, his four incisors still longer than the rest. His four mandibles also come out of his mouth and he lets out an inhuman roar as he charges towards Director O’Brien and the guards. This is the furthest Leon’s ever let himself transform and he’s honestly eager to see what he can do.

The guards shoot at him, but the bullets do little to no damage to Leon as he rips through them like paper with his razor sharp claws, blood and guts spilling everywhere. In the chaos, Director O’Brien slips away, running down the hall. Leon sees this and quickly gives chase, what’s left of the guards strewn all over the white marble floor in his wake. Director O’Brien comes around the corner with his angel, his mate in tow, both of them stopping in their tracks upon seeing Leon.

Leon opens his mouth wide, letting out a loud hiss as he glares at Director O’Brien. Unfortunately in his current state, he’s unable to speak. His crimson stare shifts over to his angel, who to his dismay, is visibly frightened.

Angel, don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt you…

He curses internally about not being able to give her his gift; if he had been successful, he would be able to communicate with her easily. His gaze then shifts to her swollen belly, sensing his offspring is strong and healthy inside her. He watches as she grips her belly, flinching.

“Back off, Leon!” Director O’Brien shouts, pulling out a small flashlight from inside his dark green coat and turning it on, pointing its purple beam directly into Leon’s face.

Leon, turns his face away, growling as he feels the light sting his mutated parts. His tail whips forward, slicing off the hand holding the UV flashlight before he turns back to Director O’Brien, stalking towards him and using one of his clawed hands to pick him up and pin him against the wall. Letting out a guttural growl, his mouth and mandibles open wide only stopping when he feels his mate’s hands on his arm.

“Leon, don’t kill him, please!” she cries, “don’t kill him and I’ll… I’ll go with you…”

His mutated mouth closes, turning to her to see her bloodshot eyes staring up at him, pleading with him. He lets out a soft purring sound, turning back to Director O’Brien and abruptly dropping him. He falls to the floor with a gasp, Leon’s attention back onto his mate as he grabs her by her wrist. She looks up at him, the fear evident in her eyes as she starts to panic, pulling against his grasp as she hyperventilates.

Angel, don’t do this… it’ll be ok, I promise…!

She then faints; Leon’s quick reflexes catch her before she collapses onto the floor. He picks her up into his arms bridal style, stalking into one of the rooms that has a window. Using his tail, he smashes the window open, the blizzard raging outside now blowing snow into the room. Leon leaps out of the window, carrying his mate into the stormy winter night.

Part 8

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

385 notes · View notes

eslypyiris · 2 months

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Incorrect quotes (Vees at the hotel AU)

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Alastor: How’re the activities going?

Vox: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there.

Alastor: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.

Vox: …you shouldn’t be condoning this.

Alastor: Don’t tell me how to live my life.

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Velvette: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

Charlie: Ok! I think we are done with the therapy sesión for today!

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*the TV is freaking out*

Valentino: Don’t worry, you have to treat an electronic like you treat a patient on life support.

*unplugs the TV, then plugs it back in again. nothing changes*

Valentino: Yeah, that didn’t work with Vox either.

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Velvette: You use emoji’s like a straight person.

Angel Dust: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

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Vox: I baked you a pie!

Alastor: Really?! What flavor?

Vox: *pulls gun out of the pie* DEATH!

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Niffty, holding a toy lightsaber Vox gave her: I’m Darth Vader!

Husk: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

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Vaggie : Goodnight to the love of my life, Charlie, and fuck the rest of y'all.

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Charlie: Vaggie, you love me, right?

Vaggie: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

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Alastor: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Vox: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

Alastor: The fourth sentence-

Vox: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Alastor: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

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Cherri bomb: *wasted* Have you ever get so high that you start seeing spiders?

Angel Dust: Cherri... I'm basically spider.

Cherri bomb: WHAT?

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Rosie: So, how's it to have Vox as roommate?

Alastor: Better than expected! I feel like a child who just adopted an entire circus!

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Delaney: *Sees Rosie for the first time during an overlord meeting* Well, there goes my heterosexuality.

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106 notes · View notes

kittarts · 7 months

Note

Hey. I’m a trans nonbinary person who is a HP fan, and thanks for being transparent and acknowledging that JKR sucks while also still holding a space in your heart for what HP was to you in your youth. It feels so difficult to find people like that online? The common consensus has become to condemn entirely and while that’s understandable, there are people who still love this series because it helped them through tough times and made them feel less alone. I think that’s worth noticing. Not everyone who still likes HP is automatically transphobic, nor are they someone who condones JKR’s awfulness on the many other things she unfortunately has an opinion about, and it seems like people forget you can separate the art from the artist—yes, even if said artist is still alive and kicking. Sorry if this ask is a lot. I don’t mean to start or engage in discourse. I just wanted to thank you, so again, thank you. Love your art.

I really appreciate you sharing your feelings on it! :) you’re not the first one to send me something similar actually.

Social media really shrunk my worldview, and it wasn’t until I started having these conversations outside of the internet that I realised those condemning others are actually the smaller majority haha. They’re just loud, and therefore they’re scary.

I can go to a friends house right now and have this discussion without fear of them hurting me.

I think it’s important for people to be given the space to decide how they feel about these things. To set their own boundaries.

To be an adult and say “Jk did this. And I’m not okay with it. Therefore I won’t be consuming any more Harry Potter” or to say “Jk did this. And I’m not okay with it. But I grew up with these films and they’ll always mean a-lot to me”. These two things can co exist, and neither side is evil lol. It’s literally just about deciding what is and isn’t okay for you.

Adding on; I'm referring to enjoying the films from your youth, don't financially support her in any capacity. I would like to think this goes without saying, but just to make sure.

#Kittchats #Calling trans and other lgbt folk transphobic for referencing HP or saying they loved the movies is insaneee and I’m not normalising that.

182 notes · View notes

quin-ns · 2 years

Text

The Future is Now (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 4.3K

Summary: aemond discovers plans for you to be wed in the near future are being made—and they don’t include him as your husband. he’s not happy about it, especially when you don’t protest

Tags: (18+), cw: dub-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, coercion, kissing, manhandling, intimidation, choking (not actually but his hand is on her neck), P in V sex, loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, aemond is kinda scary but also weirdly loving. idk that’s just the vibe I ended up going with

Disclaimer: if you are uncomfortable with dark themes in your fanfiction, then this story is not for you. I do not condone sexual violence irl, but this is fiction—a fantasy—so morality police need not interact. if you don’t like it, keep scrolling.

A/N: first darker fic but I couldn’t help but be inspired by a darker character. ngl I’m team black but I can’t help but be intrigued by aemond and this idea invaded my brain

cross-posted to ao3 • hotd masterlist • writing masterlist

Aemond had become nearly an expert at concealing his presence as he lurked within the Red Keep. This skill allowed him to be privy to private conversations he had not been welcomed into.

Because of this, he knew all about his grandsire’s plan to place Aegon on the throne once the king had passed. He also knew that his mother had not been involved in that conversation. It was obvious Otto Hightower was running things.

That meant that more of his journeys to seek information were focused on Otto. That’s why when conversations around the marriage of his darling sister came up, Aemond was there to witness it.

It had always been an assumption of his that due to his two older siblings being wed to one another, it would only make sense for you to become his wife. You were his younger sister just as Helaena was to Aegon. It was only fair.

Well, Aemond heard every single word as Otto schemed to marry you off to some prince from another region in order to gain support for Aegon as future king. That infuriated him. Aegon already had the throne instead of him, and now the future wife he’d been (mostly) patiently waiting for was not to be his? No. He couldn’t let this stand.

Enough had been heard of his grandsire’s plot. Aemond left his concealed spot silently to search for his mother. He needed to know if she had been aware of this plan. There was a voice in the back of his head that knew she hadn’t orchestrated it, yet there was still concern that she would side with the wants of her father over her son. Alicent had a weakness to Otto, he had been influencing her decisions long before anyone else could.

When Aemond found her and confronted his mother about everything he had heard, that concern was validated.

Standing across from him, gazing upward, Alicent let out a gentle breath. “I did not know what he had planned for your sister,” she admitted. Then, unfortunately, she continued. “But I have to agree. The marriage of Aegon to Helaena was meant to strengthen his claim to the throne. For you that is not necessary.”

The words struck like a knife. It being confirmed there was no intention for you to be wed to him was the painful stab, and being reminded yet again he was to be denied the throne was just twisting it.

“So I get nothing?” Aemond asked accusingly, initial disappointment shifting into anger and impending dread.

“You may still have a wife of your choosing, but—”

“Not the one I truly want,” he finished, nearly spitting out the words.

Alicent let out a sigh and tilted her head—it was that look she’d get when she was experiencing pity—but didn’t say a word. There were no words left for Aemond to say. He gave her a cold look that was somehow even more menacing with just the one eye before turning his back on his mother.

Aemond was fuming as he mindlessly walked through the palace. Those who wandered the corridors were quick to move out of his way. He must’ve looked as enraged on the outside as he was on the inside.

He found himself outside of the door to your chambers. Without hesitation, he barged in. Once the doors were closed behind him, Aemond spotted you sitting near your largest window, simply gazing out at the landscape below. You were already dressed for bed despite the sun only now starting to set. You turned to face him and offered a welcoming smile, which caused a feeling of relief to wash over him. Aemond often found comfort in you.

You were meant for him. He knew you were. No one would ever make him feel like this. Maybe it wasn’t common to marry for love but after he’d been scorned with denial of the throne, how could you be taken from him as well? He was owed at least one thing he desired.

You stood from where you were seated and approached your older brother. “Hello,” you greeted calmly before noticing the energy radiating off of him. “What’s happened?” you wondered, stopping a few feet away.

“Your marriage is being discussed,” Aemond revealed. “There’s talk of you being wed to a prince from another house.”

You were silent for a long moment, eyes gazing past him as you seemingly thought over his words. You and Helaena remind him of one another. You both hardly had interest in any of your family’s dramas, but unlike Helaena, you had developed much more apathy to it. Aemond wondered if it was because of your age, being the youngest you had hardly any say—even less than your sister if that was even possible. At a point you had stopped speaking up and resolved to keep to yourself and your books. The only one who you allowed to draw your attention was Aemond.

It was a privilege even your own mother didn’t have.

Maybe that’s why he thought he was special in your eyes, that you’d reciprocate his anger at the thought of him not becoming your husband. He had desired you for so long and there were moments when Aemond was certain you felt the same. You’d never spoken the words aloud that you loved him in that way, but there was something there. To him, it was only a matter of time. That eventually he would have you. It always seemed to be a given.

Until now.

When you finally spoke, your question pulled him from his thoughts and brought his focus to your face. The expression you wore was hard to read, but he could see the consideration you gave it.

“Do you know when I am to be married?” Your tone almost sounded tired. Like you’d already given up on the matter.

Admittedly, he was briefly stunned. “You’re not in agreement,” Aemond didn’t ask, he stated it as if it was to be expected. To him, it should’ve been.

You let out an impassive sigh. “If it’s what the queen and the hand have decided,” you began with disdain in your voice, “then do I even have a choice?”

Aemond knew you cared nothing for the power struggle between the heirs. You’d revealed that to him once, saying, “I do not care for politics. Whoever ascends the throne, I want no part of it.” Aemond didn’t share your sentiments, but his ambition was much more deadly than yours.

He took a short, frustrated breath. It bothered him that you’d be so flippant in the matter. He continued to insist, “It is you and I that should be wed.”

“Perhaps there was a time when that would be the truth, but it is not now.” There was a rageful glint in his eye as you spoke. It was hard to conclude whether it was directed towards you or at the situation.

You resumed stepping closer to him, looking up at your older brother. Your soft hands rose to cup his sharp jaw. “I love you, brother.” Those words washed over him like a wave, he always relished in hearing you speak them. If only you’d confirm the type of love went beyond your love for him as a brother.

Aemond almost allowed himself to relax into your touch and your sweet words. Then you continued. “That’s why I say this. It will do you no good to lust after things you cannot have. The throne…”

“You,” Aemond finished.

A few beats of silence passed before you answered.

“Yes.”

Aemond gazed down at you intensely, his entire demeanor becoming even more icy than what was normal for him. He let out a small, humorless laugh. It was a harsh, mocking sound.

“You think I cannot have you?”

There was venom in his voice. His eye was wide with sudden anger. The expression on your face shifted when you saw that. Your eyes that previously held sympathy and your subtle frown that pleaded for understanding began to fade.

Fear was trickling in. He could sense it.

Aemond knew he was intimidating, that some even viewed him as frightening, but he’d never turned those tactics on you the way he did others. He could justify to himself that it wasn’t intentional, but the spark that ignited in him at the reaction you had was undeniable.

He’d finally provoked you. Now he truly had your full attention. His mind began to race. The darkness he usually directed towards his enemies began to take hold. You were standing in front of him, hands slipping from contact. He snapped to grab one of your wrists and you flinched. A small gasp even slipped from your lips.

You were scared of him. Aemond liked it.

It had not been his plan when Aemond first entered your chambers, but in that moment he made up his mind.

“I may not be able to take the throne, but I will take you,” he said with hostility. Aemond took a step forward, forcing the gap between the two of you to become shorter. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed and your eyes shone with concern. You tried to step back, but the grip he had on your wrist tightened.

“Aemond…” you breathed out.

“You and I have always been meant to be,” Aemond declared with certainty. To you, it sounded like a threat.

He leaned down, nose brushing against yours. Aemond felt your breath hitch as his lips sought out yours. You were seemingly too stunned to move, but that benefited your brother as he freely captured your soft lips.

Aemond fisted his hand in the fabric of your dress to pull you closer to him. Finally he released the grip on your wrist, only to slide his hand up to yours. He held it tight and pulled it between the two of you, his fingers laced with yours. Aemond couldn't trust you to stay in place but he didn’t want to hurt you. Maybe you were scared, and maybe Aemond enjoyed it, but he did care for you. His feelings in the moment were conflicting as even he couldn’t predict his next action, but one thing was crystal clear to him; Aemond loved you.

His other large, cold hand rose to your face. Aemond’s pale skin always seemed to be chilled and you shivered as his fingers ghosted your jawline. He finally cupped your face, his thumb resting on your cheek.

Aemond kissed gently at first, testing the waters. You didn’t kiss him back, but you also didn’t pull away. He twisted that in his mind to view it as permission. Once he got a small taste, there was no turning back.

His lips began to move against yours with fervor, desire and need seeping out. The kiss seemed like he was starving and with each movement you began to believe he was going to devour you. Especially when Aemond’s teeth sank into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

You gasped at the sting of pain and turned your head away. His hand didn’t keep your head still but Aemond didn’t miss a beat. His lips found the side of your cheek and he kissed his way down your neck. The side of your face rested against his hand now. His thumb strangely ran down the bridge of your nose, then over your lips.

The hand on your face fell to the neckline on your sleep dress. He fiddled with the material, feeling the softness of the fabric between his fingers as he nipped at your neck.

Aemond pulled his head back to watch you carefully. He turned your head back and you met his eye. The slight smile on his face was somehow both devious and shy.

Only now did the silence between the two of you make its way to your mind. You hadn’t said a word. Aemond didn’t need to. He had you where he wanted you.

His hand released yours and both moved to the back of your sleep dress. With a wicked glint in his eye Aemond leaned in to kiss you again just as his fingers began to undo the string keeping the dress in place.

That shocked you back to reality. The spell of complacency evaporated and you took a step back from him. You weren’t sure who was more surprised by your sudden movement, you or Aemond. Your brother looked confused and even a little hurt, but there was a clear agitation that began to fester.

You swallowed through the lump in your throat and spoke first. “We can’t.” The words came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry, Aemond,” you said much clearer. “I do not wish to see you upset, but this can’t go any further.”

Your decided tone made him glare. Aemond stepped forward and you stepped back. The expression on his face in that moment terrified you as he closed in on you. You hadn't ever wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Aemond never reacted well to being slighted.

“Who’s going to stop me?” he challenged.

You hated that sinister look on his face. It scared you. The position you were in finally sank in. Aemond stared down at you as prey as he closed in.

You backed away yet again, but this time you bumped against your bed. You fell backward and landed to sit on the foot of your bed. This seemed to be exactly where Aemond wanted you.

Time seemed to slow as you looked up at your brother, unable to move or speak. Aemond was horrifyingly silent as he held his gaze on your face.

Any sort of plan Aemond had was completely thrown out the window. Aemond hadn’t prepared for you to resist after you first accepted his kiss. He hadn’t even planned on kissing you. He was reacting in the moment. He hadn’t planned on scaring you at first, either. But this is where he was now and Aemond was never one to back down from what he wanted. Hell, he was still vying for the throne—getting you was much easier.

Everything moved quickly then. You hardly had time to register as Aemond shoved you further up on the bed and climbed on top of you. His knees planted on either side of your legs, and his large hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them down when you tried to push him off.

“We’re meant to be married,” Aemond said firmly, his face hovering above yours. Your eyes were wide, pleading. Your soft lips were parted, panting out frightened breaths. “You’re so beautiful…” he murmured, as if unaware that he was saying it out loud.

“You’re frightening me, Aemond,” you said softly, asking him to stop, or at the very least... “Please don’t hurt me.”

Your gentle pleading made him hesitate for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Aemond revealed. In his heart, he meant it. At least, he wanted to mean it. You wished that was reassurance, but then he continued. “You’re my sister and my wife. You are mine. But you don’t seem to understand that. So…”

Aemond released your hands and you shot to push him away. He must’ve known that was coming because his right hand immediately fell to your neck. He didn’t squeeze hard, but the grasp was enough to still you. Your breath hitched.

“…I’ll make you understand,” he finished.

His left maneuvered the top of your dress down, revealing your naked chest. You heard your brother’s breathing falter.

Aemond’s body flooded with anticipation. He could feel himself reacting to the excitement. He’d waited so long to take you and now it was happening and seven hells he was going to enjoy it. It was unfortunate that you didn’t share in his spirits, but Aemond would do everything in his power to allow you to find pleasure as well. He wanted you to want to be with him. He’d give you time after this initial coupling to accept him because Aemond would be damned if he mirrored his elder brother in his marriage.

But for now, he’d have to coerce it from you.

Your face was flushed with heat. Shame overwhelmed you as your brother reached beneath your dress and skillfully removed your undergarments. He seemed to know that he wouldn’t be able to get your dress fully off without having to fight with you, so he simply pushed the skirt of it up.

Your dress was still on, just bunched around your middle. Your chest and above, and your waist and lower were exposed.

Aemond drank you in, his eyes trailing over your body. Finally, he spoke. “I wish my first woman had been you.” Your brother sounded nearly breathless already. He shoved his knee between your legs and forced them to part.. “Not some whore for Aegon’s amusement.” Bitterness drifted briefly into his tone, but then it faded. He was too eager to be angry about the past at the moment. He kept one hand on your neck, while the other reached to push his pants down. He didn’t bother with anything else. Undressing would require two hands and he couldn’t afford to risk it.

You didn’t look down. You knew he’d taken his cock out and you did not wish to look upon what he was doing. Even as he maneuvered himself between your legs.

You were meant to stay a maiden until your marriage. While marriage between siblings was not uncommon, Aemond was not your husband (despite his claims). If anyone found out you were with a man who was not your husband, even if you didn’t want to be, you’d be viewed as spoiled goods. You weren’t expecting to be happy as a wife to some ally prince, but at least you’d be useful to your family. Now, it seemed as if you were only to be used by your family—well, your brother.

The press of his cock at your entrance made you suck in a breath. “Well…” he mused. “At least I will take pleasure in knowing that I am the first man to touch you. And the last.”

Aemond thrust into you after that declaration. You let out a cry but had enough awareness to press your lips together and muffle the sound seconds later. If anyone heard, Aemond could twist things and you’d be the one being facing backlash.

Your brother let out a groan, adjusting to the tight squeeze. He could hardly move within your walls but he pushed himself as deep as he could go.

A man had never had you, but you knew Aemond was large. His cock felt as if it was splitting you open and your breath left you completely.

Once he was seated inside you, Aemond’s hand on your neck finally released. He stared down at you, watching as you clenched your eyes shut. His cold hands finally began to explore the smooth skin of your naked body trapped beneath him. You shuddered under his touch, but you’d stopped fighting him.

“Look at me,” Aemond coaxed. His hand grazed over your breast before tapping your chin. He gently turned your head and you allowed your eyes to flutter open. You felt so small under his lustful, empowered gaze.

Aemond leaned over you. He planted one hand on the mattress beside your head and gripped your hip with the other. He angled your hips up to give himself better access. Bruises would be left in his wake almost certainly.

Pain accompanied the feeling of his cock withdrawing from your body. You winced, but it turned to a choking gasp when he pushed back into you. Hard. You couldn’t help your reaction as you found yourself having latched onto him. Your arms wrapped around him like a hug. It was your instinct to seek safety from him—Aemond was always the one to protect you, after all. In that moment your mind forgot that he was the one causing the pain and fear.

Aemond lowered down so his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Allow yourself to be mine,” he whispered.

You held him tighter.

Aemond knew he’d won.

His movements were less rough than the initial insertion. Now that he knew he wouldn’t have to force you completely, Aemond seemed to be gentler—but not gentle.

Slowly, your body began to accept him. It became easier for him to thrust into you. He murmured praises into your ear, but you hardly registered them as the pain subsided and a new sensation took its place.

There was a wetness forming between your legs that seemed to please your brother. “I knew you’d enjoy me,” he muttered, not hiding his ego.

“Wha-“

“Shh, darling,” Aemond said, pushing you down when you got curious. He buried his face into your neck and began to kiss your heated skin. “Just relax.”

You tried to do what he said, but it was hard. His pace picked up speed before it became steady. You laid beneath him, taking everything he had to give you.

Aemond pounded his cock into you, eliciting soft whimpers and moans from you. Suddenly, he angled his thrusts at a different angle and your toes curled. The pleasure was much greater and your whole body shook. The feeling of him inside you was becoming overwhelming.

The feeling of your cunt was something Aemond had dreamt about. Reality was so much better than his fantasies. You were wet and waiting, holding onto him for dear life, and allowing him to fuck you into bliss. The perfect sister—soon to be the perfect wife.

Nothing would ever compare to the feeling of you giving in and finally accepting him. Aemond had lifted his head briefly to stare down at you. He needed to drink this moment in. You were beautiful beneath him; your hair splayed out like a crown, the flush of your cheeks, your parted, kiss-swollen lips, and the sweet yet somehow still innocent look in your eyes as you met his eye.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” Aemond uttered under his breath. He deeply regretted not taking you sooner. Your tight walls began to clench around his cock and Aemond didn’t allow himself to falter.

“Aemond,” you whimpered out, unsure of what you were experiencing. He could hear your confusion. His movements seemed to be precise, hitting that same spot he found over and over again. A small, devious smile found its way onto his lips at your inexperience. He was going to give you your first orgasm and you didn’t even know what was happening.

Aemond kept thrusting into you, pushing you towards what he wanted from you. Your nails dug into his back as the tension in your belly finally snapped.

Your body tensed and a wave of intense, blinding pleasure crashed over you. A moan tore from you. Aemond slowed down as you tightened around him.

“That’s it, my love,” he purred in your ear. His voice was ragged after not speaking for so long.

You panted as the powerful pleasure began to subside. Aemond knew he made you feel good and the flush on your cheeks wasn’t only from exertion, but embarrassment.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Aemond implored. “That’s a part of fucking. You’re allowed to like it.”

Words completely failed you. You were reeling, and you didn’t know what to say either.

Aemond understood. “It’s alright,” he uttered softly, beginning to resume his old pace. “Again,” Aemond breathed out. “I want you to give me another one.” Another what? You didn’t know. But you felt limp in your brother's arms as he pulled the two of you upright.

Now you were in his lap, body spent, arms and head draped over his shoulders. You were still dizzy as Aemond began to pound his cock up into you. He could fuck you how he wanted now, as hard as he wanted. You were completely compliant.

Aemond was chasing his release now, but he wanted you to fall over that edge with him. He yanked your nightgown off of you above your head and you let him. It was then that you realized he was still clothed. You were entirely exposed to him while he kept himself covered.

It was a perfect display of the power dynamics between the two of you, but that thought slipped your mind as he found that spot inside you again.

You lost track of time and seemed to fade in and out as the pleasure blazed through you. Aemond cradling you against him. He was breathing roughly into your neck, his own being encompassed by the euphoria. He was so close, and he could feel that you were too.

Aemond thrust up into your pliant, waiting body one more time. His cock twitched inside of you as you pulsed around him. Then it happened. Aemond let out a deep moan as his seed spilled inside of you while you shuddered around him.

“You are divine,” Aemond groaned out, holding you close to him.

There were a few beats of silence and no movement. The only sound in the room was your and Aemond’s twin breaths.

Aemond pulled out of his satisfied haze first. He withdrew from you entirely and helped you to lay down.

You were physically and mentally exhausted. You hardly comprehended that Aemond even tucked you under your covers. His hand reached down to stroke through your hair as he admired your sleepy face. He smiled to himself, knowing he’d only have to wait a short time and then he’d have the most beautiful wife in all of Westeros.

Aemond sat on the edge of your bed, looking down at where your head rested on your pillow.

“You and I will be wed on the morrow,” he clued you in on his thoughts.

“They won’t let us marry,” you hummed tiredly. He knew that “they” meant Otto, the small council, and Alicent.

“They will,” he assured.

For the first time since he walked in your doors, Aemond had a plan that he was sure of. He looked down upon you as you drifted off, your eyes unable to stay open much longer. Before you drifted off, you made out his final words of the night clearly.

“And if anyone tries to interfere, Vhagar will be awaiting them.”

#quin-ns writing #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x sister!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen #my writing #dark fic #house of the dragon #hotd

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jean0farc · 7 months

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#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ; ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖈𝖜: RAPE/NON-CON.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

Finally finished the fic after months of procrastinating.

This fic is not proofread or beta read.

Don’t try this at home, kids!

….And some rape down there. I don’t condone any of this irl (no shit). It is to note that it is part of the story’s progression and I only intend to explore such dark elements like the series always intended to do so in canon.

The “don’t like, don’t read” rule applies here. Kindly heed the tags one more time before proceeding.

“Griffith…I…” you paused as you caught your breath. You were failing to fake self-confidence at this point in time, your legs shaking as you could only watch yourself give into the fear that made its way through your head and heart.

“I…wasn’t expecting your presence here…I….”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed in response, letting out a low hum. He was getting closer this time, giving you less time to react and run for your life.

You took a step backward, pressing your hands against the dresser for some support. You knew you’d hit a dead end the way you clumsily hit the wall, groaning softly in response. You waited and waited for a sign to attempt running past Griffith and escape the palace with all your will’s might. You still had your bathrobe on, which made you partially vulnerable to him, but you didn’t care. You just had to run away from the man who has been invading your personal space.

“Worry not, princess. I came not to disturb your slumber. What I ask for is one simple thing that I believe you and I could share. If I’ll allow you to do so, that is.” Griffith said.

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my Kingdom? This is my lair, as bestowed by my father before me. The fact that you’re trespassing does not make you worthy of seeing me at my-“

Your words were cut off by Griffith, his cunning tone making itself clear in the dead silence. “And who told you that this kingdom was entirely yours? Remember, your induction to queenhood was only taken into consideration because of your father’s sudden death. Besides, it’s not as if you have any experience in leadership whatsoever.”

“Are you underestimating me?” you asked, slightly annoyed with his attitude.

“Why, of course not.” Griffith said as he took brisk steps forward, making it almost impossible for you to escape. “Want to know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I killed your father.” Griffith said, shamelessly. He walked three steps forward, caging the both of you within a small distance.

“You son of a bitch! Why….why would you do such a thing?! My father has been-“ you were interrupted once again.

“I had to do it. There could only be one way to test as to whether Midland is fit to be led by a Queen all on her own…..and turns out, the ‘Queen’ in question has no experience.” Griffith said.

“How dare you insult me in my own palace!” you exclaimed. “I’m leaving!”

“Not when you’re barely dressed like that.” Griffith smiled deviously. “Now…..come here….”

“What….what are you implying?” you asked, attempting to charge your way to the exit of your bedroom. “N-never mind….I’m fucking leaving.” As you charged your way to the exit, you felt two hands wrap around your waist from behind. No, it was too late. Griffith caught you. Pulling you backward, he lifted you to your own bed and started stripping down until he wore nothing but his Behelit.

You attempted to escape once more, only for Griffith to pin you down to the bed and press his lips into yours. You fought against the sheets and turned your head to break the kiss, but your attempts were rendered futile as it only prompted Griffith to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Griffith kissed you harshly, and it frankly felt like kissing an untamed beast cornering its prey. You never knew Griffith was ...quite an expert at this, his mouth slightly nibbling at your lower lip everytime he retreated.

After finally pulling away from you, Griffith latched his face onto your neck, positioning himself next to your right ear. “Give yourself to me, Princess. After all, your Kingdom….will soon be mine.”

“No…NO!!!!” you exclaimed.

“A little stubborn, are we?” Griffith asked, tilting his head. “Well, it’s not like you’ve stood a chance. We’re taking off this one, okay?”

You kept tugging at your bathrobe’s ‘belt’ to keep it away from the filthy man on top of you. “Griffith, I don’t want this, please…..”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Too stubborn.” Griffith said, his touch growing angrier as he grabbed your bathrobe by the waist, curling his hand to a fist. Using his other hand, he slid a sleeve of the wardrobe off your shoulder, revealing your bare shoulder and right breast. Griffith dug right in, his lips kissing your hardened nipple as he engulfed his mouth to suckle it whole. While doing the do, he used his right hand to slide off the other sleeve of your bathrobe, exposing your other breast and stripping you down to your naked form. Griffith pulled away from your nipple, impressed with how he rendered the Queen of Midland helpless under his touch.

“Mmmm……what a pretty little thing you make, just for my kingdom.” Griffith let out a satisfactory hum. “This will be a rather fun time showing them who’s deserving of the throne.” Next thing you knew, Griffith was about to go down on you, positioning himself around the area of your waist.

“Don’t resist, Princess. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs wide open.” You hesitantly obeyed, up until Griffith grabbed you by your inner thighs, spreading them wider and raising them. Finally, he slipped your legs up his shoulders. It felt dirty having someone’s face right up your pussy, especially since this was your first time. Your mind wandered as you closed your eyes, hoping everything you just witnessed was just a dream. But no, it wasn’t. You fought against Griffith’s clutches, tugging at his hair and pushing him away.

But this just prompted him to dig right in, lapping at your fluids as he used his hands to part your lips for better tasting. You muffled a moan from the pleasurable feeling, covering your mouth with one hand. Griffith’s tongue worked you in fast, yet practiced motions—the tongue moved swiftly and curled just the right amount to send you shivers down your spine, earning muffled whimpers from you.

Granted, vibrators didn’t exist in the Medieval Era of Midland, so you might as well indulge in that feeling of someone’s tongue right up your pussy.

Griffith withdrew from eating you out for a while, his breathing and humming loud enough to send you goosebumps. “Mmmm…. You’re already this wet from a little kissing and heavy sucking. I wonder how it would be like to have you sing while having myself fully inside you, to have you clench around me while I slowly take what’s rightfully mine.”

“L-let go!!!!” you screamed. “I don’t want this!!!”

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, Princess. After all, you’re something…..” Griffith said, strict and unwavering. “Magnetic.”

Griffith moaned as he dug right back in, his tongue hovered over your clit. He started tracing small circles in a slow pacing, which left you impatient and begging for more. You tugged into his hair trying to fight him off, but as previously stated, you were left with no defenses against his strong grip.

“Griffith!!! Oh God…..!!!! I’m gonna…..!!!”

The feeling gave you that guilt, guilt for enjoying this man’s advances on you, and guilt because you just couldn’t believe your sense of authority was being challenged by a man of common birth.

But Griffith refused to stop. No, he didn’t stop suckling at your clit gently to give you a break. Griffith was merciless in the bedroom, leaving you with no choice but to accept the fate you’ve been accustomed to.

“Agh! Griffith!!! Stop….!!!!” you moaned out loud.

Griffith’s tongue kept going, and it wasn’t long before he inserted two digits inside your entrance without warning. He just didn’t care. His tongue slowly picked up the pace, speeding up and finally making you reach that sweet, sweet climax you’ve been waiting for. You fucked back subconsciously against his tongue, riding out your orgasm until it was ready to subside. After coming down from your high, you suddenly realized Griffith was looking down at you icily with his bright blue eyes, his body towering over yours despite lying down in bed.

You were screwed. What was about to happen next?

“Hmmm…..perhaps you are ready to take all of me. I’m going to fuck you so good you’d actually forget being the Queen of Midland.”

“No…..NO!!!!” you exclaimed, attempting to get up and reach for the door. You were stopped dead by Griffith once again, leading him to push you back to the mattress and grabbing you by the legs. Spreading them wider, Griffith let go of your legs, only to stroke his length before initially inserting it in your entrance. Slight precum formed through a pearl-like shape at the slit of his cock, adding lubrication to the process of entering you. Before you knew it, Griffith made efforts to adjust and bury his length within your vagina, though you ached in retaliation.

“Aghhh!!! It hurts! It burns! Let go!”

“Hush, princess. I know what I’m doing.” Griffith said as he spread your legs open for a better view. He adjusted himself by taking slow yet sure steps in burying his length into you, filling you to the brim. You were at this point begging to be freed from his grasp, though your fainting strength was no match for him.

Placing his hands on your wrists, Griffith pinned you down and started thrusting his hips in a slow, yet ambitious pace. You bit your lip to hold back your moans, but it was all for naught. You let out a small “uh” while he rocked in and out, sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air as he leaned closer to your ear to speak.

“You don’t stand a chance against ruling Midland.” Griffith muttered at an intimate distance from you.

“What…..Huh…..?” you whimpered, your breasts being grabbed as it bounced from Griffith’s thrusts. “What….do you me-ngggh!” you grunted, trying to resist him by trying to get up. “I owe you nothing! Just please, let me rule my Kingdom in peace! I’ll do anything…..anything….but this…..!!!”

“Surrender your pride, little one.” Griffith said as he caught his breath. “I want you to dream of this.”

As a means of defending yourself, you attempted to grab Griffith by the hair to pull and tug on it roughly. However, your efforts to distract Griffith failed. You had to take responsibility for what had to happen next, and it was all because Griffith wanted a taste of your kingdom.

“I have every right to follow my dream, princess. And I want you and your kingdom surrendered to me. That is the pinnacle of achieving my dream.”

“You’ll…..you’ll never…..have my kingdom…..” you fought your way to speak in the midst of denying the pleasure Griffith gave you.

“You’ll take whatever I deem right to give you, princess. After all, your kingdom and this body will be mine.” Griffith said.

You screamed as loud as you could that the servants and every guest would hear you. The walls were soundproof, but you didn’t have a choice.

“Please!!!! I don’t want this! Please get off!!!”

“You do know screaming out for servants to assist you won’t do your kingdom justice, right? Mmmmm…..”

Right on the dot, Griffith stopped thrusting, pulled out, and aggressively flipped your body over that you were facing the bed. With one fell swoop, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pinned your head to the pillow to muffle every moan and protest you had up your sleeve. Without warning, he repositioned himself right up your entrance, taking you from behind.

“This is a far better idea to keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” Griffith commanded.

“Mmmmmhhhh…….mmmmhhhhh!!!!”

The sounds of lewd clapping resumed, Griffith’s cock milking every last bit of your pussy’s juices with fervor. There was no turning back now, and he was truly getting at it, without any form of warning or informing you of any discomfort felt. It was like Griffith only cared for his own pleasure and never left crumbs of remorse for your wellbeing. This left you scarred—physically, emotionally, and most significantly, spiritually.

“Mmmmmm……I’m getting quite close.” Griffith smirked as he leaned forward. “What are you going to do about it, princess? Squirm? Run away?”

Your eyes widened at his remark, your body telling you to escape as he was nearing his release. You certainly did not want to carry his child, nor want to do anything with the monster who pounded on you animalistically.

“Noooooo!!!!!!” your voice protested while being muffled by the pillows where your head rested.

“As I said, you’ll take whatever’s been given to you. Now….”

It wasn’t long before your body betrayed you. You felt your climax approaching despite being against the thought of Griffith fucking you. Subconsciously, you fucked back, trying to get Griffith’s cock deep in you before you could feel his fluids leaking straight from your soaked cunt.

Three.

Two.

One.

Your moans and grunts filled the pillow, adding to its warmth while Griffith bit down your neck out of extreme pleasure. His thrusts sped up as he began to feel ropes of cum shooting itself inside you before pulling out. And the feeling was mutually GOOD. You let out a groan as your muscles relaxed, Griffith moaning as his cum began to leak out from your newly filled cunt. You were soaking wet and drenched in sweat as Griffith stayed inside you for long.

You were now marked as his. You didn’t know what to do at this point as you were deflowered after your coronation day.

“Sleep well, princess. Provided you are to raise a child from our time together, just let me know. We can build a kingdom where you could rule by my side.”

You couldn’t respond, which prompted Griffith to flip your body back to lying on your back. It was truly a tiresome night, filled with intensity and passion as Griffith stole everything from you.

You just never stood a chance.

Your eyes suddenly admitted defeat, staring up at Griffith as he looked down at you with a look of an angel. He was charming, so to speak, but heavily dedicated to what he promised to achieve.

And he achieved it.

He achieved his dream.

#griffith x you #griffith x reader #berserk griffith #yandere griffith #griffith berserk #griffith #berserk anime #berserk manga #berserk x reader #smut #berserk #fanfiction #x reader #yandere x reader

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

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and i can be needy, way too damn needy

“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?

“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.

but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.

if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀

also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL

words: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.

But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.

She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.

“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”

“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”

Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?

You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?

“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.

She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”

You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?

Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you.

It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.

Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..

You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.

You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.

But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.

“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else.

At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.

There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.

It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.

Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”

Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.

“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”

You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”

“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”

That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?

“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?”

One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”

You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.

“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.

The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.

You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.

“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.

Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.

“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”

“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”

“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.

The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.

You decide to just rip the band-aid.

Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours.

“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.

“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.

So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.

They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.

“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.

“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”

The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug. “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer.

You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.

The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.

“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”

Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”

“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times.

Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.

“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”

Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.

“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”

The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.

Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.

You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.

“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”

By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light.

Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”

“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”

“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.

“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.

But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #✨#✨osamu #bully!osamu

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screeching-bunny · 8 months

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ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ welcome to my blog! / please refer to me with she/her pronouns! / i'm not that great at writing so please bear with me! / also please refer to me as my screen name (the one that starts with an L). / avid supporter of women's rights and women’s wrongs!!! / credits to @cafekitsune for some of the dividers on my blog!

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ warning: this blog will contain dark themes because this is a YANDERE blog. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please block me. even though I am writing about this stuff, please note that I do not condone it in any way, shape, or form. this is purely fiction and for fun. please stay away from these types of people in real life. if you or anyone you know ever experience yandere type behaviors or abuse, please call for help. National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ about: i'll mainly be writing about my yandere ocs in here but i don't mind writing about fandom characters. so feel free to send requests my way!!!

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ will not write: scat, urine, racism, transphobia, homophobia, and anything else related to these things. please respect your fellow readers and try to get along. don’t go out of your way to harass anyone in the comments, disrespect towards anyone will not be tolerated and you will be blocked.

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ disclaimer: this blog will mainly be for people who are 17+. i am not your mother and YOU are responsible for what you read. i have no way of confirming that everyone who comes across my blog is 17+. so if you’re younger and happen to like my blog do what you want. besides we were all that age once and i know almost everyone has lied about their age or lied in order to read some mature fics on ao3/wattpad. so if you happen to be under the age of 17 and ever feel distraught with what you're reading, please leave as well as block me.

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ : ˚₊‧꒰ა masterpost list ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ anons: pokémon fcker ; 👾 ; 🪦 ; 🐇 ; 💝 ; 🫧 ; 🎀 ; tree fucker

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ SHOUT OUT TO MY DELUSIONS FOR NEVER ONCE LEAVING MY SIDE!!!!

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere blog #female yandere

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

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Garden of Secrets [9] - Lavender

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: A rushed engagement raises certain questions.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms.

Word Count: 4300

Series Masterlist

This could not be happening.

No. There was no way.

You rushed out of the carriage as soon as it came to a stop and gathered your skirts to climb the marble stairs leading up to your house as fast as you could, ignoring your aunt saying your name. Darting through the door, you did not even stop to catch your breath, instead you made your way upstairs and passed through the hallway until you reached your room and opened the door, then closed it behind you and leaned back to it, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

With just one kiss, you were now to be married.

You had to give it to him, Benedict could be an excellent liar when he wanted to, or at least when your reputation was hanging by a thread.

“Married?” Lady Featherington said, doubt apparent in her tone and Lady Bridgerton’s eyes widened. Your aunt gasped.

“What?”

Benedict reached out to entwine his fingers with yours, squeezing your trembling hand lightly before running his thumb over your skin, trying to calm you down.

“You must forgive me for my shock,” Benedict said, shooting them that crooked grin of his, the one that you suspected had gotten him out of trouble multiple times. “I proposed to Miss Y/N just a moment before you caught us, what you saw was nothing more than our…enthusiastic happiness for our engagement.”

You gawked at him. “But—”

He shot you a look, making you frown before he turned to them again.

“I told my mother, she was supposed to ask Lady Thorne but I’m afraid I could not wait that long,” he said, motioning at her. “Mother, you haven’t had the chance to tell Lady Thorne I assume?”

Lady Bridgerton blinked a couple of times, then managed to smile.

“Not yet,” she said, causing Lady Danbury to raise her brows and she turned to look at your aunt. “Caroline, I was waiting for the end of the ball but you know young lovers, they rarely possess any patience.”

Your aunt looked at you. “Y/N, is that true?”

You felt as if you were watching this whole disaster from afar but somehow, your mind decided to follow Benedict’s lead for a reason unknown to you at that moment.

“I was going to tell you,” you managed to say when you found your voice and forced a small smile. “Upon Lord Shaw’s proposal, I had an epiphany.”

“…An epiphany?” she repeated and you nodded.

“Yes.”

“We’re in love,” Benedict added helpfully, holding up your entwined hands and you closed your eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded again.

“What he—what he said.”

A silence fell upon you and your aunt pressed a hand over her chest.

“My dearest, you should’ve told me beforehand! Oh, so many things to do—”

“Does Lord Thorne know about this?”

Your aunt waved a hand in the air. “My husband will be happy beyond words that our Y/N finally found love!”

Lady Featherington arched a brow, looking between you two as if she was trying to see through your lie, then heaved a sigh.

“Well I suppose it’s less of a scandal, but a scandal nonetheless,” she pointed at you and Benedict. “The fact that you’re engaged does not condone that type of behavior, you are to wait until you’re lawfully wedded to engage in such…matters.”

“They’re in love and are to be married my dear Lady Featherington,” Lady Danbury spoke for the first time. “Leave them be.”

“When is the wedding?”

“We haven’t…”

“We will decide on it once Lord Thorne is made aware of this,” Lady Bridgerton said. “We must wait for his approval as well.”

“Y/N, come on,” your aunt motioned at you and grabbed your arm to pull you closer. “We’re going back home, I must give the good news to your uncle!”

You pressed your palms into your eyes until you saw shiny dots in the dark, then lowered your hands to your lap. It hadn’t hit you back then, but now that you were thinking about it…

The moment they had seen you together it was decided for you, you had to be married. The only difference was whether the ton would think it was by your choice or that you were being forced to do so, or worse, whether you had trapped him by doing so. Considering the rumors about him and Charlotte -and no thanks to Lady Whistledown- everyone thought you were already placing yourself in the way of years long courtship, and by lying right to their faces about a proposal and you two being in love, Benedict had made sure that no one could speak anything badly of you, at least as far as this situation went.

Yet, that did nothing to put your heart at ease.

You knew what husbands were like, you knew what he would turn into no matter how sweet and understanding he seemed so far, you knew the moment he got angry—

“Clover?”

Your head shot up at your uncle’s voice behind the door along with the soft knock, and you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand before pushing yourself off the floor to fix your dress, trying to look as decent as possible.

“Come in, uncle.”

He opened the door and stepped inside, worry etched over his features.

“Were you crying?”

“I’m…” You wiped at your nose. “I’m overwhelmed, that is all. It was a long night.”

“I know, I just heard,” he pointed at the door with his thumb. “Your aunt is on cloud nine.”

At least someone was happy about tonight.

“But the way she told me of the incident,” he said, motioning at you to sit down on the chair by the table, then pulled himself a seat as well. “It makes me question certain things.”

“Like what?”

“You’re in love with Benedict Bridgerton?”

You paused before nodding your head. “Uh huh.”

“Dearest, the last time we spoke you said he annoyed you and that you would never marry him.”

“Yes I know but I had an epiphany,” you repeated your lie from earlier. “Lord Shaw’s proposal made me think about marriage and tonight with Ben—with Mr Bridgerton,” you corrected yourself. “It felt right.”

At least that wasn’t a complete lie. That kiss had felt right, like you were both made for kissing each other and nothing more. It was as if you were always meant to be, as if this desire pushing you to each other ever since you had met him was fate—

But it wasn’t and you knew it very well. That was merely bait, some sort of lure to make you lower your defenses.

Perhaps the ton had been wrong.

You weren’t the Venus Flytrap here, he was.

“And you want this?” your uncle said. “Clover my dear, you can tell me if you do not. We would figure it out, I assure you.”

You bit inside your cheek, deep in thought. As genuine as it was, you knew there was nothing he could do. If you and Benedict didn’t get married after tonight, it wasn’t just your reputation that would be ruined, it was your uncle and aunt’s as well. They would be outcasted from the respectable society of London, so would Teddy and—

No. You could not simply sit back and watch that happen.

You managed to will a smile on your face, then nodded again.

“Of course,” you managed to say. “What else could I possibly want?”

You couldn’t sleep that night. Even though you had tried your hardest to at least find some refuge in sleep, you kept tossing and turning in bed and the moment you dozed off, you woke up gasping for air. The morning wasn’t so good either, you had told your aunt you wanted to be the one to tell Teddy but the moment you so much as mentioned getting married -the word still felt foreign in your mouth- Teddy had ran to his room and slammed the door behind him. Even though you could’ve opened the door and walked in, you decided to try to convince him to open the door himself.

“Teddy?” you knocked on the door and only heard a sniffle from the other side of the door, the sound making you feel as if someone was squeezing your heart. “May I come in?”

“No!”

You bit inside your cheek. “Don’t be like this,” you said. “Please. I know that it’s very sudden—”

“You promised!”

That was more than enough to send tears to your eyes but you gritted your teeth at yourself and blinked back the tears.

“I know,” you said. “I didn’t plan this, I swear to you.”

“I don’t believe you!” he shouted from the other side and you leaned your forehead on the door, keeping quiet for a moment.

“I wouldn’t either,” you murmured and pulled back, drumming your fingernails on the wood. “Teddy, come on. Open the door so that we can talk face to face, hm?”

You heard the shuffling of his footsteps before the door cracked open so that you could see the half of his face, his eyelashes wet with tears. You could feel your heart dropping but you offered him a small smile.

“May I come in?”

He pouted his lips and opened the door wider before walking back to his bed, and plopped down on it with a huff. You sat down on the bed as well and crossed his arms, looking at you with a frown.

“Who are you getting married to?” he asked like a demand and you swallowed thickly.

“You’ve met him before,” you said. “Outside the flower exhibition, remember?”

Teddy narrowed his eyes as if trying to remember, then looked up at you. “He was tall.”

“Mm hm, he is quite tall. And he was friendly with you, no?”

Teddy shrugged his shoulders, keeping quiet.

“Did you like him?” you asked him and he shrugged again.

“I don’t know yet.” he said. “Why did you lie to me and said you wouldn’t marry anyone soon?”

You shook your head fervently. “I didn’t lie to you,” you said. “It was a…sudden decision.”

“If you marry him, does that mean you will move to his house?”

You managed to keep your expression still by some miracle.

“Yes but I will come and see you every day,” you assured him. “Every single day, like I still live here—”

“But you won’t live here.”

“No,” you said after a beat. “But I’m not going to be far away from here, it’s not the same situation as Josie.”

“Josie left.”

“I know that but I’m not leaving,” you said. “You’re my little brother, I could never, ever leave you Teddy. I swear on my life.”

He rubbed at his eye before snuggling closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight hug.

“Can I visit you there?”

“I’d be very sad if you didn’t,” you said, burying your nose into his hair like you used to when he was a baby and he sniffled.

“But it won’t change things, will it?” he asked. “Marriage?”

You tried to ignore the familiar fear filling you upon the mention of marriage and you closed your eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“Of course not,” you lied through your teeth. “I can assure you my dearest, nothing will change.”

If it were any other time, you would have thrown yourself to your garden as a distraction but for the very first time in your life, you had a feeling it would be futile. All you wanted was just burying yourself into the fluffy covers and sleep until the events of last night disappeared from your mind but it was impossible. With Teddy having his lessons with his tutor, you had nothing to do but be alone with your thoughts. After writing your letter to Josie explaining what happened last night, you placed it on the small table in the foyer for the butler to send it with the rest of the letters, you made your way to the music room where you knew would be empty. Your aunt was so enthusiastic to talk about the upcoming wedding but even thinking about it was enough to make you feel as if you were being smothered, so you made your way to the music room where you knew would be empty.

And no one would look for you there anyway.

At least that was what you thought.

You were so emotionally exhausted that you hadn’t even noticed yourself dozing off on the sofa and for what it was worth, you were quite certain you had been asleep for about half a minute when you heard the butler announcing Benedict’s name. Your whole body jolted awake as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on you, and you felt your heartbeat getting faster as you sat up in the sofa. You weren’t ready to see him after last night and you were hoping he shared the sentiment, so you took a step to the door in order to close it, but that was when he entered the hallway and apparently saw you out of the corner of his eye because he turned to head.

“Y/N.”

The events of last night flashed through your mind but even that wasn’t enough for you to completely ignore the slight warmth spreading through your chest upon hearing your name from his lips.

No, you could not—

You could not afford to have that kind of confusion, especially now.

You crossed your arms, shooting him an icy glare which made him frown slightly, then looked around.

“May I come in?”

You shrugged your shoulders, biting inside your cheek as he stepped inside and you caught the sight of a white envelope in his hand. He followed your gaze and held it up.

“It’s uh—it’s a dinner invitation for you and your family from my mother,” he said. “After last night, I figured it’d be better to give it to your aunt in person.”

You dug your fingernails into your palm. “You could just tell her you changed your mind, you know.”

He stared at you for a moment. “And ruin your life?”

He had a point there.

It was impossible to break this engagement without having your name dragged through the mud, especially considering the position you were caught in last night. If either of you broke the engagement, it would mean a scandal for the both of you -particularly you- so you knew as well as he did that it was out of question.

You shrugged your shoulders again, letting out a furious breath.

“That ship has long sailed for me,” you murmured. “And for you as well.”

His eyes flickered over your face and he took a step towards you but you immediately stepped back, making him freeze in his spot.

“Y/N,” he said after a beat. “I know it wasn’t something we talked of or planned before and I apologize for the manner that it happened but if I didn’t say that, they’d tear you apart.”

That was putting it lightly.

If you two were caught kissing without marriage in the horizon? Benedict would be criticized yes, but he could walk away unharmed in the end. With the family he had and his artistic talents which was surely going to make him famous judging by the admiration of the ton, no one would even bring it up to him a couple of years down the line.

You on the other hand?

The ton wouldn’t stop until they were picking at your dead body like vultures.

And even hours after in all this mess, you could still remember how that fire felt. You had gone to him willingly, kissed him willingly and if it weren’t for this freezing fear of what was to happen once you were married, even now you still would—

Oh you were a goddamn idiot.

Not only were you a goddamn idiot, this was also pathetic. He was being forced into this just as much as you were, and just because he managed to cover it better than you did not mean you couldn’t see through the lie. He did not want to get married, that much was obvious to anyone and he certainly wasn’t planning on marrying you. He was supposed to get married to someone like Charlotte, someone softer, someone nicer, someone who was the complete opposite of you.

Last night was just a lapse of judgement on both sides, that was all.

“I know,” you said, shifting your weight from one foot to other as you unfolded your arms. “I’m well aware of it.”

“I wasn’t trying to trick or trap you—”

“This conversation would have gone very differently if I believed you were,” you cut him off and his eyes searched your face.

“Yet you resent me.”

“No more than you will resent me,” you pointed out and he pulled his brows together.

“Resent you?” he asked. “Y/N, why would I resent you?”

You shot him a glare.

“I didn’t walk away, did I?” you asked him. “Last night. Everything would have been different if I just walked away and went back to the ballroom, but I didn’t—”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Benedict…”

“I am,” he insisted as he reached to hold your hand, making you close your eyes for a moment. “I do not regret it, not a single second.”

“You should,” you muttered as you opened your eyes but fixed your gaze on the floor and he hesitated for a second.

“Do you?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to lie and say yes, not when you could still taste his kiss on your lips, not when you knew deep down that you still craved him. You would have done anything to escape the consequences but you couldn’t—

You couldn’t bring yourself to regret that moment, not at all.

A sigh escaped from you as you forced yourself to pull your hands from his, then crossed your arms over your chest again.

“I do not, but—”

“Then it changes nothing.”

A bitter chuckle left your lips. “Please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Taking me for a fool.”

He tilted his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Yes you are!” you insisted and he ran a hand over his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“It changes everything and you know that, you—” you stopped yourself, shaking your head. “I honestly do not have time for this, I must go check on Teddy.”

He looked like he wanted to disagree but you walked past him before he could say anything, then turned around when you reached the door.

“As far as the whole ton and our families are concerned, we are in love and I understand that we will have to pretend as such,” you said. “And I appreciate you doing what you did, but it’s just us here so there’s no need to lie to each other. You would’ve never married me and I would’ve never married you if it weren’t for the ton forcing us so stop taking me for a fool, because I’m too smart to be deceived by this whole charade.”

He stared at you, a flash of sadness crossing his handsome features, making your heart drop but you swallowed thickly.

“My aunt is in the drawing room,” you told him. “I’m sure she will be delighted by your family’s invitation. Have a lovely day, Mr. Bridgerton.”

With that, you turned around and walked away from him, your heart still beating in your ears.

Towards the afternoon, you were so desperate to get away from your thoughts that you decided to get out of the house. Going to the city center to buy some seeds for your garden sounded like a good idea, so you took your maid with you since your aunt was already very busy with choosing what to wear to the dinner at the Bridgerton house.

Since it had happened just last night, it hadn’t hit Whistledown yet and you didn’t think Lady Bridgerton had told anyone, so at least today you did not have to deal with anyone.

Tomorrow on the other hand, was going to be another story.

“Lavenders, my lady?” Paula asked and you nodded.

“They’re very easy to grow,” you said, taking the small bag full of lavender seeds. “And my aunt really likes the smell of them, I think it’ll make her happy to see them in the garden.”

“Will you plant them to your own garden as well?”

You turned your head. “My own garden?”

“For when you marry Mr. Bridgerton?” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I just…heard some maids in the kitchen talking about it.”

You gulped down and tried to smile, then shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “But no. I will not do much gardening after I marry Mr. Bridgerton.”

Paula frowned. “But you like gardening.”

Well yes.

You did like gardening, but keeping a garden meant Benedict could use it to hurt you whenever he would get mad at you, so you weren’t just going to give it to him.

“I’m sure I will have other responsibilities,” you murmured and made your way to the counter so that you could pay for the seeds, then you and Paula left the flower shop.

“Are you tired?” you asked her and she shook her head.

“Not at all, my lady.”

“Wonderful. I want to go by that pastry shop that Teddy likes to buy him some sweets—”

“Miss Y/N.”

You looked over your shoulder and turned around with a slight frown on your face. Though you hadn’t been properly introduced, you already knew Benedict’s older brother, Viscount Bridgerton. You had seen him multiple times in the ballrooms with the same frown that he had right now, which seemed permanent on his face and it was quite obvious that he knew who you were.

If you had to guess, he also knew about your very sudden engagement.

“Lord Bridgerton.”

“We should talk,” he said, “I can take you to wherever it is you and your maid are going, get in the carriage.”

Ah.

Alright, it was very obvious you two would not get along well.

You blinked a couple of times. “Pardon?”

“Get in the carriage,” he nodded in the direction of his carriage and you looked up at the sky for a moment, pretending to think about it.

“Mm no I’d rather not.”

He looked rather surprised but managed to recover quickly.

“I’m the head of the family you’re joining,” he reminded you. “And I was not asking.”

“Good for you, I am still saying no,” you deadpanned and he raised his brows.

“Do you wish to have this conversation on the street then?”

“Honestly this last minute just proves to me that I don’t wish to have any conversation with you anywhere, Lord Bridgerton,” you said. “But don’t take this personally. I just have this principle to not follow orders from people who are under the very false impression they can give me any.”

Anthony paused for a moment and let out a scoff, then nodded at Paula.

“Give us a moment.”

Paula took a couple of steps away from you so that she wouldn’t be within earshot and you crossed your arms, watching him with raised brows.

“I’ve been informed about the events of last night,” he said. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

You rolled your eyes. “Much appreciated.”

“Now I do not understand why Benedict decided to throw away years of courtship with Miss Harlowe for you,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “But she happens to be a very close family friend, so I’m sure you can understand my hesitation.”

You tried to ignore the guilt seeping into your system. “Your hesitation?”

“I know that you two will present a different truth to the ton than what actually happened.”

You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach but you managed to keep your expression completely blank.

“Let me guess,” you said. “You think—”

“It doesn’t matter what I think about the issue, what’s done is done,” he cut you off. “Your reputation and his honor hangs in balance, obviously you two must get married. There’s no other option here.”

“Yet here you are, telling me things I already know,” you pointed out. “Thank you for the news Lord Bridgerton but I’m afraid I figured that out myself without your much needed input.”

He shook his head slightly and heaved a sigh.

“I know that my brother has a soft spot for you for a reason that remains a mystery to me,” he said. “Apparently that made him quite illogical last night. Now, on your part I do not know whether it was on purpose to be seen together or—”

The anger shot through you so fast that it made your head spin, and before he could so much as finish his sentence, you turned around and took a step to leave, trying your hardest to remember that you were in public in order to keep your fury under control.

“I’m not done talking,” he said and you stopped dead in your tracks, then turned to look at him better.

“I am.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Well, would you do me the honor of sparing me a minute of your much precious time?”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him.

“No,” you said curtly, making him give you a mocking smile.

“Considering your reputation among your suitors my lady, it doesn’t surprise me you like to have the last word,” he commented. “And for that last word to be no.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh and clicked your tongue, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Considering your reputation among ladies, my lord,” you said. “Maybe your last word should have been no.”

He pulled back, his mouth slightly agape in shock while you smiled at him and dropped a curtsy, then turned around and walked away from him with Paula following you suit.

Chapter 10

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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