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Yandere Todoroki Clan x bullied reader part 2

Platonic Yandere RE8: TRP Part 5

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Yandere Bnha Doctors AU

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days. 

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic. 

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies. 

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie. 

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant: 

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy. 

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in. 

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

Thank i just started to cry in a cafe because of this

happy deathday to my baby boy😢sorry I'm late again.

Idk if you do requests but i rly like your works (no pressure tho luv ya✌🏻) may i ask some fluffy bonten mikey going home to his preggy wife after a long day in bonten? Thank you🥹🥹

Home to You

SUMMARY : After dealing with a Bonten rat that tried to expose your wellbeing to the public eye, Mikey goes home to you.

🔞Warnings: violence & torture stuff (bonten!mikey hates traitors), fluff (on the last part), explicit sexual content, lactation, fingering, creampie, she/her pregnant reader.

AN: hi! thanks for requesting! I’m back once again lol sorry for inactivity, another anon also requested me to do nsfw w mikey so i just merged their requests bec im too lazy to write another dhddhrhhgr this is just pwp with 2.8k words idk. I hope this is okay lmaoo:))

“You may kill him now.”

“N-No, please. Mikey I beg your forgiveness! I promise it won’t happen again!”

The bloodied man bound to the chair struggles. He pleads for his life with hollowed eyes. He was imprisoned in one of Bonten's secret warehouses for several agonizing hours, having his fingernails removed, bones crushed, and sulfuric acid slowly dripped into his wounds.The bloodied man laments his dying life.

He was trying to get your picture. If he could just get his hands to photograph his boss's wife, a very hidden and confidential figure in Tokyo underworld, he and his pals could sell it to the public and get wealthy.

Getting the boss to let anyone but the highest-ranking Bonten officials see his wife, let alone take her picture, was a herculean and treacherous task in and of itself. Moreover, 'the wife' herself rarely left the house without at least three of Sano's most trusted guards following close behind.

Her own existence was treated as precious as the most prized and expensive piece of art in the world.

And while it was common knowledge that Mikey detested traitors more than anything else, his greatest fear was that someone would try to harm you and take you away from him when you were pregnant.

Sano Manjiro had been dubbed a variety of labels throughout his young life: tyrant, evil, savage; those terms have never failed to amuse him, and don't even get him started on the titles he's acquired; The Invincible Mikey as a teen, The Heartless King throughout his adolescence, as he and his gang dominated and conquered prefectures one by one with bloodshed and brutality. He was capable of crushing force much beyond his years, and then as time passed; murderous monster, cruel ruler, hollow-hearted motherfucker - that's the latest.

You had only gotten married the previous year and your pregnancy was a swift blessing afterward. No matter how many politicians, lawyers, journalists, and police stations Bonten had in their control, they still dared not take any chances in case more traitors tried to leak Bonten's private business, especially the pregnancy of their king's queen, and leak it to rival gangs which only puts your safety at risk.

After a long day of executions, Mikey heads out to his waiting car and heads home for the night. Even though it was late, he knew you would be waiting up for him to get home, just like you did every day.

You were fast asleep on the porch swing when he pulled up in his expensive car, just as he had anticipated. A blanket covered your pregnant belly as you rested your head in Kakucho's lap.

Kakucho becomes alerted to the presence of his boss but hesitates to move so as not to wake you from your nap on his lap. Mikey had already put his most trusted executives in place to protect you from the nasty traitors who were selling information on you, before he found out that they were doing so.

Mikey sighs at the sight of you.

“I told you to sleep inside.” He reaches out and gently runs a hand across your forehead, knowing full well that you would do this, but still touched by your concern.

He picks you up as gently as he can, dismissing Bonten’s Number 3 along the way and carries you all the way to your bedroom so you can sleep there instead.

You lay still on your bed, eyes closed, lashes fluttering down your cheeks; Mikey worries that you've fallen into a deep sleep from which there is no awakening. He frowns at his childish thoughts before he leans forward and tenderly kisses you to wake you up. You make a soft gasping noise, then reaches out a hand which Mikey takes hold of so he can entwine your fingers together; pressing light kisses against your forehead and eyelids.

Mikey sighs again and starts running a finger over the hollow at the base of your throat, overcome by a familiar sense of ownership but also of obligation; the woman before him is entirely under his power, his command.

You, his wife, are not only his to do with as he pleases in terms of control and manipulation, but also his responsibility to nurture, safeguard, and care for.

Then, with a strong surge of protective compassion, he pulls you closer to him and presses his lips against your forehead. You sigh contentedly and relax into his touch, your eyes fluttering open in a sleepy gaze of appreciation.

Unlike last week, when you announced suddenly wanting to have dorayaki, only to reveal at the last minute that what you really want is pizza, this seems to be one of the rare times when your hormones and weird appetites haven't made you uncomfortable.

A gentle touch to the side of his cheek pulls him back, and he responds to your quiet coo with a rumbling rumble of comfort. When he does, he stoops to run his nose along your neck. You squeal with joy as you snuggle up to him. Your hands went up and got caught in Mikey's silver hair, dragging him closer to you, "Oh, welcome home, Manjiro," you mumbled as your hands moved up to cup Mikey's face.

“I’m home.” In response, he gently pecked you on the cheek until the kiss melted into something more passionate. Mikey's fingertips slid over your warm skin and gently tugged at the loose garments that covered your body.

A gasp escapes you into Mikey's mouth as the buttons on your shirt come undone one by one and the garment is discarded over to the side of the bed.

You let out a hot moan as his one hand rested on your right breast, pinching your swollen nipple. A moan escaped your lips, and you flushed, peering up at Mikey through your eyelashes as he smiled.

Mikey bent down and pinched your nipple again. He sucked viciously on one nipple while pulling with the other, leaving soft bite marks along your flesh. Your body's immediate reaction to your husband was almost too embarrassing to bear.

Mikey kept on sucking your tit, and with one especially forceful sucking, a rush of warm liquid washed into his eager mouth. Smooth and creamy.

Your breasts grew larger and more beautiful and softer than Mikey could have imagined as your pregnancy progressed. He was prepared for physical changes to your body during pregnancy and had researched every possible outcome extensively, yet he was still completely taken aback when you began lactating.

He suckled and lapped at the milk from your breasts until you cum. He makes a contented little noise in the back of his throat as he gulps down your breast milk.

“Fuck, Manjiro,” You cry and writhe under him, getting your fingers tangled in Mikey's hair. He keeps sucking on your nipple, filling his mouth with sweet milk in short bursts. He gulps down as much milk as he can by squeezing your breasts with his bare hand.

“So sweet,” Mikey pulls away enough to mumble and goes straight back to sucking immediately afterward.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you beg, “Please, Manjiro. I want you inside of me now.”

Mikey didn't need to be told twice. He sat up a little and reached down to pull your panties off fully, leaving you naked for him to see. He spread your legs out, bent them at the knees, and put them on the bed.

You recoiled as his finger traced over your clit, and your hips buckled on their own. For a while, Mikey torments you in this manner, simply circling your clit over and over again until you feel desperate enough to start crying.

“Please,” you beg, and you finally get your wish when he starts to push his finger in.

“Ah!” You screamed, arched your back as Mikey's finger slid in. You rolled your hips in time with your husband's, and before you knew it, Mikey had inserted his second finger.

Once Mikey is two fingers deep, he waits, lazily lapping at your nipple until you’re scrabbling at him, desperate for more.

He begins to work you open, the glide easy with all the copious amount of slick you are producing. He pumps his fingers in and out, his pace gentle and teasingly stroking against your g-spot.

“O-oh!” You groan as you gyrate your hips to get a better angle to spear yourself with his talented fingers. “Manjiro, it feels s-so good. More, please.”

Mikey fingers you farther while grinning and kissing your hips. He maintains a relentless pace, increasing the pleasure with each each thrust that brushes against your g-spot. At last, you've had enough of his tormenting. You need his cock.

“Manjiro, p-please,” you beg, rolling your hips frantically on Mikey’s fingers, impatient for more. “I’m r-ready. Please.”

Mikey's dark eyes narrow as he studies you intently before he lets out a hum and draws his fingers away, earning you a discontented whine at the sudden emptiness. You gaped at him as he brought his wet fingers to his lips. Mikey looks directly at you as he starts licking off the slick, causing you to squeal in embarrassment. As if he wasn’t suckling on your breast milk only moments ago.

Mikey looks at the surprise on your face and laughs before leaning in for a brief kiss. “So cute,” he murmurs before sitting back up. “Are you ready?”

In agreement, you open your legs wider as Mikey carefully nestles in between you, taking care not to put much pressure on your swollen stomach.

Mikey presses the tip of his cock against your wet entrance and rubs beads of precum along the folds of your hole before sinking in. The contact burned, but in a deliciously mind-blowing way. Mikey's cock was wrapped in a warm, tight heat, and his fingers quickly found purchase on your soft hips and gripped them like his lifeline. You tighten up around him, and Mikey could feel every flutter of your inner walls as you clenched.

Your body was so soft, smooth, and warm, and Mikey stayed still against you, enjoying the way you moved around him. The Bonten king went deeper inside, and each small push made your legs tremble and spread apart. Finally, Mikey was pressed to the hilt, his balls firmly against your ass.

You stared up at him, eyes glazed over with lust. “Fuck me, Manjiro.”

Mikey closed his eyes for a second because his sweet wife made him feel like he couldn't do anything else. He moved unconsciously, and when he did, you groaned. Mikey shifted again, harder this time, his cock practically stuffing itself inside you.

When you uttered a breathless groan, Mikey knew he had hit your sweet spot. He massaged his cock slowly against it, his cock twitching at the rhythm you provided. Your legs trembled around him as you mewled Mikey's name and whimpered with every prod.

Mikey was taken aback when you began circling your hips and grinding back against his cock, your hips faltering every time his cock reached that sweet area inside that made you nearly pass out.

He shifts and gets a better, deeper angle and then he’s fucking up into you, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mikey fucked into you even more despite the trembling and quaking in your thighs from pleasure and weariness. You pleaded for a kiss with your legs spread as wide as possible. The angle was a little awkward with your swollen belly in the way, but you already had your tongue out and waiting. Mikey leaned in close and grabbed you without delay, sloppily giving you open-mouthed kisses as he thrusts.

As he pulled away from the kiss, Mikey buried his face in your neck and moaned softly at your scent. You continued to quake in his presence as he kissed on some of his markings on your neck, gently biting at the flesh, and he felt your walls tighten around his cock as you squirmed under him.

The pleasure was too intense. The anticipation was palpable; you wanted it to end so badly, but you also didn't want it to. You had only just begun, but it felt like too much already. You were completely overwhelmed.

Mikey kept going at the same, excruciatingly slow rate. He embraced you by placing his right arm around you. Mikey couldn’t get enough of you.

Nothing you did to one other, not even the most passionate thrusts, kisses, moans, and groans, could express the depth of your love for one another. In spite of the fact that you expressed your affection for one another on a daily basis, today was the first time you truly felt it.

You gently yanked on Mikey's hair, eliciting a muffled sigh from him. Mikey raised his head and smiled slightly at you. You could feel your toes curling at Mikey's gorgeous smile, which he solely flashed you. Nobody else had ever seen Mikey's soft side.

Mikey raised his left hand to sweep the hair away from your damp brow. He held his hand there and kissed your lips gently. You kept kissing each other on the lips.

And you were close. You could feel it.

“Manjiro“ you moaned as you attempted to lift yourself up from the bed. “Lift me up please.” You extended your arms in front of you. Mikey nodded and drew his arms beneath you, being cautious not to put pressure on your stomach.

Mikey sat on his knees, not faltering in his thrusts.

“A-Ah yes just like that !” You cocked your head. This angle provided unparalleled pleasure. You were relieved that Mikey was strong enough to support you in this way. You placed your hand between your bodies and began rubbing your clit. “God, Manjiro, I’m so close.”

“Me too.” Mikey puffs as he flies in with a harder, faster thrust than previously. “Baby,” he breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.“

Mikey gasped and continued thrusting. He hid his head in the crook of your neck again. His fingers dug into the bottom of your thighs. “You feel amazing,” Mikey grunted.

You kept on rubbing your clit as you slid your free arm closer to Mikey's head and leaned closer to let him hear your moans.

“Fuck – I’m gonna cum,” Mikey warned. When he started to pull out, you whined and clung to his back, wrapping your legs around his.

“Manjiro I want it inside, wanna feel all of it.” You admitted.

It was all too overwhelming. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. It was as if all of your senses had disappeared except for his touch – you couldn’t hear or see anything as you reveled in pleasure.

You didn't know if you were still moaning or not. All you could think about was how good it felt to be with Mikey, and that was enough to send you over the edge.

You let out a loud squeal as you came hard. As your orgasm went on, you continued to shake. You stared into space as the waves of your intense orgasm made your body shiver. It was so, so much. Your body twitched, your legs shook, and your toes curled.

Mikey could tell that you were tightening your grip on his cock.

With a low grunt, he slowed down to a stop and came inside. You can feel the jerking throb of his cock inside you. The wet squelch of your walls sucking his cum in deeper, pulling it into your already heavy womb. He grind his hips into you, pressing his cum deeper and deeper as he held you, almost in a death grip, not wanting to let go of you. His knees started to shake, and he started to thrust a little bit to ride out his orgasm.

And then silence. Your groans are stopping. You were still shaking when Mikey held you.

He finally put you back on the bed with care, and you whimpered as you fell back. Mikey slowly pulled away as he watched his seed slowly come out of you.

“I love you so much,” Mikey whispered into your ear.

You sighed and took a deep breath, “I love you too, Manjiro.”

Once you’re both settled under the covers you let out a loud yawn.

“Okay, I’m so tired now,” you said slowly. You could feel Mikey's smile on your shoulder and your husband's warm hands moving around on your swollen stomach, where you could feel your baby’s lively kicks, “She’s angry. Think we woke her–.”

“Yeah, we definitely woke her.” He chuckles softly.

Sleep was finally taking you again. Even though you couldn't be sure, you heard somewhere in the midst of his quiet voice whispering to your stomach and his gentle kisses on your neck, the words "love" and "you" and other sweet nothings stuff.

Night drive with silas. Maybe reader had a stockholm syndrome?

The best for you

Mafia!yandere OC x stockholmsyndrome!reader

Summary: after a while in the basement you've finally broken. You're finally obedient.

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, kissing, great fear, hints of violence

You messed up badly. You should not have tried to escape. Look where you ended up — in the darkest corner of his basement with your ankles chained to the stone floor. Reduced to nothing more than a dog.

You're not sure how long you've been down here, but you've been given the opportunity to use the degrading potty four times by now by rough, evil men. Or was it more?

A string of light lights up a small portion of the basement and heavy steps coming down the stairs makes you tense.

"Y/N, baby, it's me", Silas says softly and moves closer to you in the dim light.

He's wearing his dark clothes with his shirt unbuttoned two buttons down and rolled up by his sleeves. In his right hand he holds a see through plastic bag. There's something inside …

"Hi, little thing", Silas says and sits down in front of you.

You press yourself closer to the wall, wishing nothing else than to melt into it and disappear.

"No, no, no, shh, it's okay", he says quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore. Everything is over. I'm here to help."

You doubt that.

He picks up something from the plastic bag and holds the hand open in front of him. A green ball is lying in his palm.

"I got you grapes", he smiles. "I've washed them twice, so you have nothing to be skeptical of."

You look at the grape, hunger roaring through your stomach. Your hand twitches.

"That's right, baby", Silas smiles, "it's yours, take it."

With his reassurance, your hand snatches the grape from his open palm and places it in your mouth. The sudden taste makes you grimace and he smiles, picking up one more. You hesitate. There has to be something waiting for you. He can't be this nice. You're sure that if you try to take the grape, he'll grab your hand in that tight grip he usually has.

"Don't be scared, baby", Silas says softly. "They're all for you."

You shake your head quickly, pressing closer to the wall. You won't fall into his trap.

"They are, I promise", Silas says, moving his hand closer. "Take it."

Your hand snatches the grape just as quickly.

"I'm going to remove the cuffs, okay?" Silas says and moves closer.

Your hands attempt to grab the plastic bag, quickly regretting it. You stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for any sign of anger or disappointment. Nothing.

"You can have the bag if you let me unchain you. Deal?"

You nod hesitantly and hold out your hand. Silas places the plastic bag in your palm. You start to pick up grapes, chewing quicker than the speed of light while he unlocks the chains. He leans back on his hands, looking at you fondly.

"Tasty?" he asks.

You nod carefully. He can tell that your hands are shaking.

"Can you give me one?" he asks and holds out his hand.

You look at his rough hand and down in the bag, contemplating. Slowly, you pick up one of the grapes and drop it in his hand. He smiles and pops it into his mouth. You turn your face down into the bag again. In the corner of your eye you can see him sit up straight again and move closer. You have no time to escape before his arms are wrapped around you in a gentle hold. You forget how to breathe or move. Entire body, all muscles, tense up. You want to push him away or yell at him to let you be, but your brain is having a multipurpose shutdown. The only thing coming out of your mouth being measly whimpers. Silas rubs his hand over your back softly.

"It's okay, little thing", he whispers. "You don't have to be afraid of me anymore. I love you so, so much."

His hand comes up to massage your roots. All of these actions are so soft and after being chained up in this cold, hard and unforgiving basement, you can't do anything else but slowly relax. He notices that and brings you closer until your body is pressed into his. Tears are building up in your chest. You've wanted to cry since you got locked down here, but you haven't dared to. Your tears would have reminded you of how badly you hate your life. But now that you're in Silas’s warm embrace, the walls keeping the tears in are slowly but surely collapsing.

"It's okay, little thing", Silas whispers. "Let it out. I will protect you."

His words sound so genuine that it aches in your broken heart. All you want is for him to treat you normally, why cant he? You suddenly think to yourself that … maybe he does treat you normally, it's just you who are so difficult that he sees no way out than to chain you in here. Tears start to escape your eyes and you're quick to hide them down into his shoulder. He locks your head in place with his hand. You cry out all the frustrations you've felt over both Silas and yourself, over everything and everyone around you. Silas sits in silence, listening. When you finally stop, he pulls your head back and cups your wet cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs. Maybe he isn't too bad after all …?

"Do you want to go upstairs?" he asks with sweet eyes. "Sleep in our bed for a while?"

You nod. Suddenly his touch doesn't feel that poisonous anymore. He stands up and helps you up on your feet. With his arm wrapped around your waist, he brings you upstairs. Now that your stone wall has been removed from you, Silas is the best substitute for you to hide in. He melts everytime you move closer, but he silently hopes that he hasn't broken you. You usually get scared after being locked in the basement, your mind resets like a video game.

His men follow you with their eyes, always interested to see how you've been tamed this time. You press yourself closer to Silas. Not a word needs to be spoken, he already knows.

"If you look at them again it'll be the last thing you ever see" Silas warns his men, bringing you to the stairs to the second floor.

You glance at him, heart softening at how he stood up for you.

He helps you up to your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. You're allowed to take a quick shower before he tucks you into the bed. The soft material around you feels like heavenly clouds compared to the ice cold Hell you've been kept in. It doesn't take more than two minutes before you're knocked out cold with his hand caressing your cheek.

When you wake up, the room is empty. You shoot up, first thought being: "where is Silas?" You look around in desperation. You can't understand this new thinking, this sudden urge to be perfect for him. Be so perfect that you'll never have to end up in the basement again. You've never been so dependent on Silas like this before. Your heart is hammering, all nerves in your body screaming to be close to Silas. Without him, you'll only do something wrong and end up there again …

He must be down in his office, you think and hurry up from the bed. You run over to the door, grabbing the handle.

"Where do you think you're going?" Silas asks firmly, coming out from the bathroom. "I can't even take a piss without you trying to run off."

You breathe out in relief and run over, hugging him tightly. The man freezes in shock and confusion.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"I thought you left!" you mumble. "I got so scared."

He relaxes, understanding. Carefully, his arms wrap around you with a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Of course I won't leave you", he says comfortingly. "I love you, my little angel. Love you so much."

He notices how you glance down at his lips. You need to be close to him.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asks smugly.

You nod quickly. He smiles gently and leans down to connect his lips with yours. You respond quickly. He almost flinches in shock, but is quick to match your pace. He almost loses control to you, but is quick to regain it. There's no way you'll get to lead the action. Silas melts into a puddle in your embrace. Your mouth is heavenly soft … and you taste like his wildest fantasies.

"I'm sorry, Silas", you mumble. "I-I shouldn't have tried to run away from you. I don't know what I was thinking, please forgive me."

"You are forgiven, baby", he reassures you.

"I never want to end up there again."

"You won't. Just be as good as you're being now and you won't ever have to see that awful place again."

You breathe out in relief.

"I have to run a quick errand", Silas says.

"Don't leave!" you yelp.

Silas chuckles and caresses your cheeks. "Let me finish, will you? I was going to ask you if you want to come with me. It's just a nice little drive."

You nod. Silas takes your hand in his and leads you out the door, down the stairs.

"Boss, you can't go now!" one of his men says, stressed out of his mind. "We have so much to do!"

"Don't talk to him like that!" you cut him off, a warning to him what will happen if you anger Silas,but also feeling offended that they disrespect him.

"It's okay, baby", Silas smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulders. "You don't have to get involved." He turns to the man. "I do what I want. If you'd paid more attention, you'd know that I'm going on a business errand, not a fun trip. So step aside before you embarrass yourself any further."

The man clears his throat and gives the two of you space. You pity the foolish man. Surely you can't be the only one knowing about the harsh — brutal — consequences?

Silas leads you out to his black, shiny car and opens the front door for you. You jump in and buckle yourself while he gets in behind the steering wheel and turn on the engine.

"If you want, you can just drift off to sleep", Silas says and backs out of the driveway.

You shake your head. Silas chuckles, knowing that you'll be blacked out in twenty minutes anyway.

Twenty minutes pass and you're still awake, much to his surprise. Your eyelids are hanging, deepy wishing that you could let yourself sleep. Although he's given you permission, you're scared that he'll be mad at you for leaving his company. He is unpredictable after all. You soend the time to watxh the twinkling stars up in the night sky, look at the streetlights you pass. It all is so pretty. There are barely any people out by now, but that's almost nicer.

Silas turns to look at you.

"Why are you still awake, baby?" he smiles. "You're obviously tired."

"I shouldn't leave you alone", you whisper regretfully. "I won't be good then …"

"You will be good. You will be the best even, I told you it's okay. Go to sleep, sweet thing."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckles and takes your hand, squeezing it softly. You feel a shameful thump in your heart. Deep down, you know you shouldn't trust him, but oh, how much you really want to.

"Of course I am", he responds. "I took you with me because I know you fall asleep in cars. I'll even put on some calm music for you."

And he does. A sweet, hypnotizing tune enters your ears, making you smile slightly. This time, sleep is inevitable. Only a few minutes later, you're gone. Silas smiles and caresses your cheek with his free hand. He finally succeeded this time. You're finally obedient — finally his.