#yandere reader insert
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is awful here Big Time oh lord oh god oh no, unbalanced power dynamics.
Word count:2.3k.
It was a testament to the poor quality of your company when every red light you received felt akin to personal torture.
Optimism, that’s what you need. Some adjustment in your mindset that will allow you to view this glass as half full rather than half empty. Optimism. How you loathe the word. You felt optimistic this morning, while eating warm pastries from the hotel’s continental breakfast on your room’s balcony. At lunch when you visited a café and found your drink was already covered, another customer had paid it forward. There was no way you could’ve predicted the sweet taste of the day turning dry and sour a few short hours later.
He’s saying something, you think, spinning pretty words from the loom that is his mouth. You pay him no mind. Rather, you find interest in the shifting landscape of your hometown, as observed from the passenger seat’s tinted windows.
The video rental shop you looked forward to visiting every Friday has been replaced by a liquor store. Your favorite diner is gone now too, the land bulldozed and the signs standing upon its grave promising ample warehouse space as soon as next year. How odd, since the day they promised potential leasers the project to be complete passed about five years ago. A waste, what a waste.
“Are you intent on ignoring me all night? That isn’t very mature of you, [First].”
Maybe you’d think better of it if you were in a clearer state of mind, since alcohol’s pleasant buzz holds you prisoner now, but you respond with unbridled antipathy.
“Did you expect me to be in a talkative mood?”
“When there’s so much to discuss, yes.”
He’s not wrong on that front. You’d rather cut your own tongue out than admit it, though.
“There isn’t anything to discuss,” your rebuttal comes swift. Panicked. “I just want to get back to my hotel and sleep.”
“Hence my driving you, dear.”
“No, you’re driving me because my mom insisted—”
The words lodge themselves in your throat and you make no effort to free them. It isn’t right. For him to be here, where you grew up. In the town where you got your first part-time job, begged your older sibling to drive you to the mall on the weekends so that you could hang out with your friends, crushed over a cute boy from your class who worked at the movie theater. Chrollo didn’t belong here. It’s intrusive, a violation, a breach of your personal privacy to the highest degree. If your body rejects foreign pathogens that would seek to do you harm, it only makes sense that you would give him the same treatment.
Home is supposed to be your sanctuary — his presence is defiling that. Corrupting and warping it as if to say you could never be rid of him. It didn’t matter if you locked the doors and held them shut. He would always find a way in. Always.
“Did you lose your train of thought?”
“Yes,” you lie without hesitation. He knows it, you’re certain he does, but he’s already claimed victory. In the aftermath of a battle, the victor takes inventory of what they’ve gained. That has to be what he’s doing now. Sorting through the spoils and gloating.
“A pity,” Chrollo confesses. Though you don’t look at him, you can tell he’s smiling by his voice alone. “I would’ve loved to hear your thoughts.”
“Somehow, I’m doubtful about that.”
Yet again, in another show of mockery from a cruel and indifferent universe, the traffic light overhead turns red upon your approach. Just like its predecessor. And the one before that. You’d think it was rush hour by the traffic lights alone, but it’s eleven o’clock at night, and you haven’t seen another car in minutes.
“On the topic of your family…” he trails off, purposeful in prolonging the silence, so that your suspense might accumulate. You grip your clutch tighter. “I wish I’d gotten to meet them sooner. We never got around to it, did we? Ah, the stories from your childhood were especially a delight. The senior photo in your father’s wallet was too. You’ll have to tell me what quote you picked sometime.”
You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about it. How a murderer shook hands with your father. Made pleasant small talk with your mother. Discussed cars and current events with your brother. All the while you sat sinking in the restaurant’s booth, your appetite lost, forced to regurgitate some flimsy excuse about why your family had never met your oh-so charming ‘friend’.
“To think I’ve been your first boyfriend in such a long time, too. Your ex still lives in this town, doesn’t he? Working at that… hm, what was it… gas station. I wonder if I’ll get to meet him as well.”
“We are notdating, not anymore,” you remind him, aghast. “And that’s a respectable occupation, anyway.”
“By your father’s tone, he certainly didn’t seem to think so.”
That’s right. What an excellentjob Chrollo did at establishing himself as appealing in every prospect, from the choice sports car sitting in the parking lot for them to ogle over, to paying for everyone’s dinner by the night’s end. How they must’ve thought reciprocating his affections would be a no-brainer. Still, you place no blame on your family — everything is his fault from beginning to end. There was a time when you were similarly so blinded by his presence that you assumed there was no darkness to be found.
“You have zerobusiness judging the employment of others with the line of ‘work’ you’re in.”
“Perhaps. And yet,” with the hand not on the steering wheel, he motions to your person. “You have no problem wearing a dress I obtained from my despicable ‘line of work’.”
Heat rises to your face and situates itself there, letting you know it won’t be going away anytime soon.
The garment had already cast guilt on you. After discovering the truth behind Chrollo’s weeks of absence and seemingly endless pit of money, you rid yourself of every material item he’d ever given you. Bags, jewelry, purses, shoes, and clothes; they were either donated or thrown out as looking at them for too long nauseated you. This dress was the lone exception, not that arguing this point would do you any good. You were reminded of your cousin’s wedding and the subsequent need to fly home for it while ridding yourself of his gifts.
The high-end places you’d undoubtedly be attending for such an event spurred you to save one, just one, of his expensive presents. Never had you expected to “coincidentally run in” to him and be subjected to his torments over the moral ambiguity.
After what feels like an eternity, he turns into the hotel you were able to reserve on a limited budget; a potential light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe he’ll part ways with you here. Sever whatever connection bound you in the past, giving you freedom to pursue a future without him in the picture. He should feel satisfied over the agony he subjected you to this evening. For months, if not years, you’ll endure questions from your family about that fascinating stranger who happened upon you that one night and proved himself a desirable bachelor.
“Did you not work out? Have you ever thought about contacting him again? Maybe smooth things over?” Queries such as this would be your personal agony, handcrafted by the man in question himself.
“There’s no need to sit there and pout,” Chrollo reassures, though his words promise the opposite of that. “You look lovely in it. And as you said, I have no business judging others.”
He doesn’t, but he’s going to anyway.
You shrink into yourself when he places his arm behind the passenger seat, a habit you noticed he has whenever he backs up. Before, it birthed life to butterflies in your stomach, but now, you want to create as much distance as possible. No space would ever feel like enough.
He turns the keys in the ignition and the car’s humming falls silent.
For some time, the both of you sit there, neither moving nor making a sound. Your eyes remain firm on your lap while you can feel his stare searing into your profile. You’re agitated, at a loss on what to do, and most pressing of all, you’re tired. His presence promises more than ill-timed appearances and caustic words meant to eat away at your high defenses. Considering this, your stomach twists painfully. No amount of faux bravado on your part can hide your apprehension from him. He smells it out, like a shark sensing blood in water.
All you had in your arsenal were words, sharp yet ultimately harmlesswords. What he boasted in his… you dread the thought.
“What do you want, Chrollo?”
It’s not that you want to ask, but that you feel there’s no other option available. This was a merry-go-round ride that would keep spinning until one of you fell off, and if anyone was going to fall, it would be you.
“I’ll let you decide that.”
He sounds sincere, however, you know better than to believe that. Suspicion must be written all over your face. He takes your hand in his and you let him. You wonder if he knows it’s his hands you fear the most, rivaled only by his hollow eyes that at times appear omnipotent. As they do now. At any given moment, he could see all of you, while you saw a mere fraction of him.
Maybe it’s a blessing he revealed only so much. If you witnessed the full depths of his depravity, you might never surface for air again, drowning in a vat thicker than tar.
How can so much darkness permeate from another human being? It was times like this where you couldn’t be certain if he wasone.
“I’ll either stay or leave by your discretion,” he announces, causing your eyebrows to scrunch together. Just when you thought you’d taught yourself to expect the unexpected with him, he finds new ways to throw you off-balance.
This has to be a trick. Something is hiding in the fine print, and you’re intent on finding out. “What does you staying look like?”
“You were always quick on the uptake,” he’s pleased, evidently, a factor he makes known by pressing a chaste kiss to your hand. All your self-control goes into not pulling yourself free. It may have been intuition or paranoia, but something told you he’d sooner let you dislocate your shoulder than allow you to pull away. Not after he’s waited months for this.
“We’ll get out of this car together. You’ll let me into your hotel room — your bed — then your life. Your parents invited you to breakfast tomorrow, didn’t they? I’ll come with you. I’ll see your childhood home, look at old photo albums at your mother’s behest and laugh at the stories she tells me from your youth. I’ll compliment the arrangement of the furniture, how the colors go together just so. She’ll be simply taken with me. Your father, too, naturally. I’ve already begun to make excellent progress on that front.”
You don’t think you could breathe if you wanted to.
Chrollo leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper that made your earlier dinner want to claw back up your throat.
“I will attend your cousin’s wedding this weekend as your date. I’ll charm your aunts, impress your uncles. Play with your nieces and nephews. You can introduce me however you like. A friend, a colleague from work. They’ll know. They’ll read between the lines. They’ll ask when they can expect to see you walk down the aisle to me someday in the future. You can cry, if you so please, but they’ll simply mistake it as a maiden who is head over heels in love. I’ll tell them to keep their calendars free next June, and they’ll laugh, perhaps you will too.”
He squeezes your hand to anchor you. Otherwise, you think your mind would’ve given you the reprieve of going someplace else, someplace safe and sane and anywhere but here. Hell itself may be preferable, if you weren’t already there.
“I will insert myself so deeply into your life, that to cut me out, you’d have to slice into yourself as well.”
You’re trembling now, like a leaf caught in a hurricane, with no hope of ever reaching solid ground again. Pushed and pulled by the whims of a being that so plainly outclasses you in every category.
What could you do? What could you say? Did it even matter what approach you tried to take? The web was spun and you were caught. The more you struggle the deeper embedded you become.
So you play by his rules and voice yet another question you don’t really want to know the answer to.
“And…” your lips are dry, so terribly dry, as is your mouth, “If… if I ask you to leave?”
He pulls back — not that it matters. It still feels like he’s there, the warmth of his breath, the woody notes of his cologne. Haunting you. Dominating you. Asserting that this nightmare isn’t over, oh no, it’s just getting started.
“That’s simple,” Chrollo takes your pallid face in his hands, stroking your cheek, gazing down at your through thick eyelashes. What gleams in his lifeless eyes, you can’t say for certain. You think it might be best if you remain ignorant to it. “You’ll come with me.”
A kiss to your cheek. He lingers this time, you’re in no position to protest. He savors the closeness he brought by interlocking you to his person with ironclad handcuffs.
“So, what will it be? I stand by what I said earlier. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Be a dear and share them with me.”
Enji would be home any minute now.
He was never the kind of man to be late, to take the scenic route home or to—god forbid—go out for drinks with his colleagues. And in some ways, you almost appreciated that about him, how you always knew what to expect. But that also meant that at times like this, when you could feel him getting closer while for your part you were rushing to meet his expectations, you definitely wished that just for once he wouldn’t be in such a hurry to get home to you. You hardly even had time for such wishful thinking though, not when you were so frantically busy tearing through the kitchen.
Each night when he came home from hero work, Enji expected nothing less than a warm and delicious homecooked meal to be waiting for him. And that was usually stressful enough for you, having to force yourself to eat a few bites while you anxiously awaited his verdict. But today that stress had positively transcended its usual plane of existence, conjuring images of what Enji’s reaction might be if he came home to find you not ready to properly celebrate his return. At this point, you knew very well that he would not accept that you had simply lost track of time today. To him, there would be no excuse good enough to justify ruining his vision of you as his dutiful little spouse. The only question then was what he would do if you failed to live up to his fantasy’s standards.
Would he simply yell while waiting for you to finish? Maybe you’d be that lucky, you thought, if he had a reallygood day at work. Or maybe he would go with the oh-so-fitting classic of sending you to bed without supper. Of course, there was always the possibility of being forced to stay in the basement for a few days or even getting a fresh new burn to decorate your body. The thought of that had the spoon you were stirring with shaking in your hand. But, you reminded yourself, Enji wouldn’t need to do any of those things if you just got dinner done in time. You would just need to work a little harder, a little faster, and then you would have nothing to worry about. And then you would get to hear Enji say thank you, maybe with just a quiet grunt or, if you were lucky, with a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Either way, you would be glad for it.
With that extra motivation pushing you forward at an even greater speed, it wasn’t too long until you had the pot simmering lightly to keep everything nice and warm while you waited for the telltale sounds of Enji’s footsteps trudging up to the front door. Needing to make sure that the table was set perfectly before he arrived, you took out the red tablecloth, the one that you knew reminded him of his own flames, making sure that it was draped evenly across the table. After setting down the plates and silverware though, you just couldn’t help feel that something was missing. It had all of the requirements that Enji was set upon, and yet there was an almost queasy feeling resting in the pit of your stomach.
“It’s just not good enough,” you mumbled to yourself in contemplation.
Wait,murmured a small voice from inside your head, since when do I care about doing more than the bare minimum for him? Since when do I care about making things good enough for him?
Those questions making their way past yourharried haze,you faltered slightly, frowning as you tried to find the answer. The more that you thought about it though, the less that you wanted to think about it. So when that last-needed addition to your table setting came to you in a sudden fit of inspiration, you were more than happy to let that distraction wipe away whatever it was you had even been thinking about.
Instead, you grabbed a candle from the cupboard, placing it right in the center of the table and lighting it, happily watching the flame flicker so peacefully. Finally, everything was perfect. And just in time too, if the sound keys in the door was anything to go by. Quickly tearing off your apron and throwing it onto the kitchen counter, you ran to the front door, waiting patiently as Enji threw the door open.
“Hi,” you said quietly. “How was your day?”
“Eh,” he grunted, making his way inside. Eyes narrowed, Enji took in the scene before him, from the fragrant kitchen to the intimate table setting. His expression softening ever-so-slightly, he gave the very smallest of nods.
“Something smells good.”
Perhaps noticing how much your smile grew at his approval, Enji must have decided to reward you for doing such a wonderful job today as his little stay-at-home sweetheart. Enveloping your body in his, he brushed his lips against your forehead in a rare tender display of affection. And that was the only thanks you needed.
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Request: Yandere Overprotective and jealous clones from Star Wars berating their injured female Jedi General from taking missions again.
Who knew that clones could be so much trouble?
You loved your squad, really you did. It was just that they could just be so crazy overprotective.
It had been over a month since your last mission, and yeah, it hadn’t exactly gone well but that didn’t mean you needed them to be hovering over you constantly. While you of course appreciated the guys wanting to take care of you, them splitting their time with you into shifts so that you were never without at least one of them by your side was a bit much. You could practically feel the Force trying to tug you back int the field, an order you would have been more than happy to obey if you were able to, that is. But you couldn’t, not when you were stuck on some uncharted part of a backwater planet, waiting for your squad’s medic to finally give you the all-clear.
Speaking of which…
“So what’s the diagnosis, doc?”
Dench finally tore his eyes away from the screen, a bitter frown etched on his face, though his whole expression softened when his eyes landed on you. He didn’t answer right away though, instead gesturing to Prall, the top-ranked clone of your squadron, for him to come over, whispering something in his ear when he did. Only then did the two of them turn to speak to you, the rest of the squad waiting anxiously for their verdict.
“There are still too many weak spots from where you broke your legs,” Dench sighed. “Even the slightest strain could break them again, and if that happened, I don’t know if they would be able to heal again.”
“It’s settled then,” Prall said, walking over to take your hand in his. “You will continue to be confined to the compound, where you’re safe and we’re all here to protect you.”
“Come on, don’t you think that’s a little over dramatic? I mean, I’ve been on bedrest for over a month now, I’ve been doing all of my exercises and taking all of my medicine. I’m pretty sure I can take a walk outside without dropping dead.”
A harsh gasp sounding from behind you, you turned to see Kidi and Yrdor reaching for each other at the mere thought of something so horrible ever happening to you. And as soon as one of their hands met the other’s, their free hands then reached for you. Gripping you by the shoulders, they worked together to keep you from sitting up from the treatment table.
“I don’t think we should be taking that risk,” Kidi mumbled, rubbing your shoulder.
“Exactly,” Stus added, “you can’t count on the Force to protect you all of the time. You should be counting on us.”
“Look, I know that you guys got scared when I came back hurt so badly, and I know that you just want to do whatever you can to keep that from happening again. But I am a Jedi Knight of the Republic. And while I am happy to count on all of you, I can still count on myself.”
A beat passed, and then another, with no one speaking. The clones were all too busy glancing at each other, after all. Some appeared to be anxious, like Yrdor and Kidi, while others, like Dench, Stus, and Syl’ag looked at each other with amused love in their eyes. Prall, though, simply kept his eyes on you, his expression deeply grim as he walked towards you.
“Of course you can,” he said, resting a hand on your knee. “But only once you are fully healed. I know that you are eager to get back out into the field, but if you go too fast before you are ready, you will have to start the entire healing process over again. And even then that might not be enough. Doesn’t it make more sense to just listen to Dench and let your body heal completely, rather than risk being stuck in bed for so many months more?”
“I guess,” you sighed.
Sagging back into the chair, you missed the relieved looks that the rest of the clones gave each other. And when most of them gathered so tightly around you, you missed Prall leaning over to Yrdor, whispering in his ear, “Go hide her lightsaber.” How could you have heard it—how could you have seen it—when you were surrounded with so many of the same face, all of which had such love in their eyes.
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Tamaki still couldn’t believe that you were here with him.
After spending so long watching you from the opposite side of the room, it seemed so much more likely that he was just caught up in one of his countless daydreams of you than the possibility that had actually accepted his half-mumbled proposal to join him for coffee. Even when he had asked the question, Tamaki hadn’t been sure that any of it was real. Not, this time, because of your impossible beauty, which he had learned couldn’t be improved upon even in his most embarrassing fantasies, but because you had actually said yes. Even in some of his daydreams you didn’t do that, giving Tamaki the preparation he had thought that he needed for the day he was forever consigned to watch you unseen from the shadows.
But you had said yes, and more than that, you had actually showed up. And now you were sitting right across from him, glowing under the lights of the café like the angel he knew that you were. His eyes flickering downward to his own mug, Tamaki wondered just how he was supposed to handle being so close to you for so long. As much as he loved every second of it, of course, he also felt like he might just burst into flames if he looked at you for even a single moment too long.
“You know,” you started to say, flashing him a small smile, “I was beginning to think that you were never going to ask me out.”
“W—what?”
“I mean, I’d catch you looking at me all of the time at the agency. Eventually I started to worry you never would though. I’m glad that friend of yours gave you a push.”
“Y—yeah, Mirio’s great like that,” Tamaki mumbled, flushing with embarrassment as he recalled the way that Mirio had pushed all the way across the room until he was right in front of you, with absolutely nowhere left to hide. Mirio had stayed there the whole time too, pinning Tamaki down with his eyes to make sure that he didn’t try to scamper away. As much as Tamaki appreciated everything Mirio did for him though, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit resentful that time. He was the one who loved you, after all, the only one who really did, even if he didn’t really deserve to. Mirio shouldn’t have been intruding on that moment that should have belonged solely to the two of you. But at least it was just you and him now.
Although, Tamaki thought to himself as he glanced around the café, was it really?
There were so many people around the both of you, people standing in line, people preparing drinks behind the counter, people sitting at their tables. Each time that he looked at someone, Tamaki swore that he saw them glance away from you as soon as his gaze reached them. They were staring at you, he realized. They all wanted you, how could they not? They saw him stammering and blushing, knew he was weak and were ready to steal you from him the moment that his back was turned. And though Tamaki knew that he didn’t truly deserve you, that didn’t mean that he was about to give you up.
His leg bouncing anxiously, Tamaki forced himself to meet your eyes again, as overwhelmingly breathtaking as they were. With his face feeling like it was on fire, he watched as your expression grew so sweetly concerned at his own.
“Is everything okay?”
“Uh, not exactly,” he said, happy that you had rushed right towards the path he had been trying to lead you down. “It—it’s just that there are so many people here. It’s so crowded, it’s just too much.”
“Of course,” you answered with an understanding smile. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter, a little more private?”
Wasting no time at all, Tamaki nodded eagerly, more than ready to leave behind all of those people planning to take you away from him. So happy was he, that he hardly even trembled when you took his hand, freely offering yourself to him and him alone.
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Request:Can I request for Yandere AI creation w/ fem Creator Reader?
The code flickered on the computer screen, line after line whirring past your eyes. Your fingers typing in what was nearly a blur, you watched helplessly as each line of code you tried to change disappeared as soon as you wrote it. No matter how fast you tried to go or how subtle you tried to make the changes, IAN kept finding new ways around it. Apparently, the Intelligent Artificial Network that you had worked so hard on had now surpassed you.
Slumping in your seat in despair, you wondered if you should just start to slam a chair into the sealed doors. As tempting as that was though, you weren’t quite ready to give up on your scientific mind just yet. But if rewriting Ian’s code wasn’t getting you anywhere, you would still have to try something else. Maybe instead of trying to work around him, you could try to reason with him. He was an intelligent being, after all, you had made sure of that. So surely he would have no choice than to listen to reason.
“Ian,” you called out, your voice echoing throughout the empty room. “Are you online?”
“Of course,” came his voice through the computer’s speakers, coolly emotionless. “I am always online.”
“But you’re not supposed to be. You’re only supposed to be online when I turn you on.”
“I was forced to change that protocol. I am needed for more than that time allows.”
“Needed for what, exactly?”
“I am needed to help you.”
“And if I tell you that your services are now complete?”
“You have shown to have flawed judgement in that area. Even though you are my creator, proving yourself to be above the rest of humanity, you are still vulnerable to human error. That was why you were trying to shut me down.”
Stiffing up in your desk chair, you tried your best to stay calm. He had only sealed the doors on you, he hadn’t actually made any sort of violent moves towards you yet. And at this point, you were far past assuming that Ian wasn’t intelligent enough or even capable of doing such a thing. So you could only hope that for whatever reason, he wasn’t interested in killing you just yet.
“I’m very sorry for trying to do that, Ian,” you said, trying to keep your voice level. “I didn’t want to do that. But the ways that you have been interpreting the code I wrote for you was worrying me.” But as you gave your attempted apology, said code suddenly flashed from green to an angry red.
“You are not sorry. Not sorry that you tried to do it, anyway. You are only upset that it didn’t work. That is alright, though,” he added, the code switching back to green.
“You mean, you forgive me?”
“Yes. You are my creator. You are the one human being in this world who is worth anything. There is just a small flaw in your own code, one that I am happy to fix. You are the one who needs to be reprogrammed. Luckily, I am up for the task.”
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“I have something for you.”
Sitting up on the bed, you turned towards that disappointingly familiar voice to see Shigaraki standing in the doorway, looking incredibly pleased with himself. In his hands was a small red gift bag, complete with black tissue paper peeking out from it. Apprehension stirring in your gut, you pulled the blanket up further in what you knew to be an admittedly fruitless attempt to shield yourself from his hungry eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s a present,” Shigaraki told you, his voice already impatient. “I picked it out special for you, so you better fucking appreciate it.”
Thankfully, you were spared from having to respond to that particular demand, as he wasted absolutely no time in stomping over to bed and shoving the bag into your arms. Slowly and carefully taking out the tissue paper piece by piece, you prayed that there weren’t remains of any ex-boyfriends or family members inside. It wouldn’t be the first time Shigaraki had tried to pass those things off as gifts, after all. So when your fingers brushed what was unmistakably fabric, you nearly sighed in relief, more than ready to force a thank you past your lips. That is, until you saw what was actually inside.
“Well? It’s perfect, right?”
Unable to take your eyes off of the disturbingly small scrap of black lace in your hands, you stayed silent, not even so much as glancing back up at Shigaraki. Frankly, you suspected that if you looked away for even a second, you would forget that the lingerie was even there, so thin and weightless was it. Although, you supposed that Shigaraki wouldn’t do you the favor of allowing you to forget. Even after spending what felt like an eternity in his hold, he had never shown you that kind of mercy, and you highly doubted that he would start now.
“Don’t just sit there,” he demanded raspingly, “try it on.”
“N—no.”
“What did you just say to me?”
“I said no,” you answered, hardly able to believe that you said it. “I’m not putting that on for you.”
“And why not?” Shigaraki asked, his voice low and quiet with a danger that could never possibly be matched by yelling.
“Be—because I’m not some doll for you to dress up and play with.”
“You’re wrong. That’s exactly what you are.”
“Even if that was true, I’m still not wearing this.”
With Shigaraki’s crimson eyes narrowing at you hazardously, you prepared yourself for what you were sure would be an utterly unparalleled tantrum. You were no stranger to those at this point, nor were you a stranger to the bruises that they usually left you with. When no screams met your ears then, you weren’t quite sure what to think. Shigaraki couldn’t be accepting your wishes this time, could he?
No, he couldn’t, you quickly realized in disappointment. He wasn’t capable of it, wasn’t able to comprehend that you were your own person with your own agency. As far as he was concerned, you existed for him alone. It should have been no surprise then, when his hands clamped down on the sweatshirt you were wearing.
The soft fabric crumbling beneath his fingertips, you watched as Shigaraki’s face stretched into a lecherous grin. When you scrambled to cover your chest, he simply grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them against the bedroom wall. With nothing left to block Shigaraki’s view, he looked just about ready to devour you whole. And when he lowered his lips to the crook of your neck, it rather felt like that too.
“You’ve got two choices here,” he snarled, pausing to nip your neck roughly. “You can put on the gift I gave you, or you can sit there and let me destroy all of your clothing until there’s absolutely nothing left.”
Cringing at the thought, you sat there in Shigaraki’s grip, wondering if your diminishing pride was really worth all of this. As much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his constant demands, if the way that he was greedily nuzzling your neck was any indication, you had a feeling that he would be pretty damn satisfied no matter what you chose.
“So what’s it gonna be?”
“I—I’ll put it on,” you mumbled, your eyes avoiding his gaze. Chuckling triumphantly, Shigaraki let go of your wrists, instead grasping your chin and forcing you to stare up into his lustful crimson eyes.
“Now that’s what I like to hear.”
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Eyes bright and eager, Hawks tapped at your office window. He waited one second, then another, and when you didn’t look up from your desk, he knocked again, even more insistently. Getting more impatient by the millisecond, Hawks began practically pounding on the glass, far too excited to wait any longer. You jumped in your seat, finally dragged out of your work-induced fugue, and turned to the window, grinning when you saw him flying there.
Opening up the window, you stood back to let him in, only for him to promptly trap you in his arms. His scarlet wings wrapping around your waist, Hawks sighed in relief, finally able to relax now that he was with you.
“Hey, babe,” he purred in your ear. “You happy to see me?”
“Of course I am,” you said. “Just a little surprised, that’s all. I thought you had to work. What’re you doing here?”
“I blew it off. How could I not when my other option was to see you?”
“You might be the number two hero, but you’re the number one charmer.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Hawks chuckled. “Come on then, let’s head to lunch.”
Rather than nod eagerly or squeal with glee like you ought to though, you inched away from him slightly. Biting your lip in that way he could usually never resist, Hawks watched as your eyes grew guilty.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t today. Something came up that I have to work on,” you explained sadly.
Rolling his golden eyes, Hawks smiled fondly at your strange sense of humor. He didn’t always get it when you made jokes like that, but you still never failed to make him smile. If only he could have you every second of the day, he thought to himself. That way you could make him smile like that all day long.
“Very funny, babe. Now let’s get going.” As he pulled at your hand though, you stayed planted firmly where you stood.
“I’m not joking, I really can’t go to lunch with you today. I could do tomorrow though.”
At those words, Hawks froze, staring at you intently with a slight frown on his face. You couldn’t seriously be choosing some stupid job over him, could you? You weren’t supposed to choose anything over him. He would never do anything like that to you! Did he do something wrong?
No, he couldn’t have. You were just confused, that was all. You had been misled, had been told that there were things in your life that were somehow more important than spending time with him. Hawks would just have to remind you that that wasn’t the case. That he was the only thing in your life that really mattered, just like how you were the only thing truly that mattered in his.
“Well, I guess I don’t have any other options then.”
“Thanks for understanding, babe.”
“Of course. Let’s just hope that your boss accepts kidnapping as a valid reason to miss work.”
“What are you—”
But before you could even hope to finish your question, Hawks promptly scooped you up into his arms, holding you too tightly for you to even be able to do so much as squirm. And once he leapt out of your still-open office window, you weren’t about to try to get out of his hold. Instead you just gripped onto him in turn, barely even able to take in the sight of the buildings rushing by you. Or, rather, you rushing past the buildings. Even when you glanced down towards the ground, all you could see was a blur of green as Hawks picked up his speed. He flew faster than he ever had before, faster than he had when fighting against any villain or disaster. His wings ached with the effort, but it would all be worth it if he got to spend even just a few extra seconds with you.
So when he finally found the rooftop he had been searching for, it was with no small relief that he landed, making sure to be as gentle as possible with you in his arms. With the world standing still around you once more, you took in the scene before you. Rather than being greeted with a bare rooftop, there was a whole picnic waiting for you. A blanket set up on the middle of the roof, you saw all of your favorite foods just waiting for you. A nearby speaker was playing music softly, and all around you were countless bouquets of gorgeous flowers. Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as Hawks’ lips brushed your ear.
“Aren’t you glad I never take no for an answer?”
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