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༄ Call me Sea or Raph (she/her, late twenties) ༄
Requests: OPEN
I write dark romance and yandere AUs, engage at your own discretion. Nothing featured on here is condoned or insinuated to be reflective of the source material. You are responsible for what you consume.
MDNI/no age in bio= blocked
Being unpleasant in asks or comments = blocked
No AI is used in any of my writing, nor will I ever knowingly reblog AI art.
༄⊹ ࣪ ˖Fandoms/details:
I write for Call of Duty, Avatar (JC universe), Far Cry, Overwatch, Rainbow Six Siege, Cyberpunk 2077 and potentially original characters.
This blog features: Yandere, dark romance, nsfw, x reader fics
I write for gender neutral and female readers.
What I will not write: incest, extreme noncon, infidelity, scat/vomit etc, child or animal abuse, romance or nsfw for characters under 18. X reader or OC only, I do not write for ships
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@fagpupboy requested: ‘Headcanons for a reader that was abused being manipulated by Yandere/Dark! Valeria’
C/W: yandere, dark content, GN reader, mentions of past abuse, unhealthy relationship, manipulation
The world had never been kind or welcoming to you. You’d never known consistency or peace, never really felt as though you had anything close to a home or place you belonged. All you had ever truly longed for was someone or something you could depend on or someone that would embrace you wholly.
Wounds faded to scars and harsh words faded to unpleasant memories, but isolation lingered and sowed desperation in its wake. Trust did not come to you easily, it required a delicate but dedicated hand.
Ah yes, you were perfect for Valeria and her cause. She needed someone malleable. Someone adaptable that would say ‘how high’ when ordered to jump and someone could she could command and treasure with equal intensity. She needed both the flame that would warm her home and the blaze that would singe away anything she didn’t care to deal with herself.
You were a blank slate. A naive but capable husk of a human being free to take on the duties of a soldier and lover whenever she saw fit.
It was all too easy for her to scoop you up and bundle you with comforting words and promises of fiery, satisfying retribution.
‘You’re not alone anymore, and never will be again.’ A threat glazed in the sugary cloaking of a comforting promise.
At first she played the role of a doting partner and dedicated leader. Promising protection, showering you with luxuries beyond anything you’d seen before. You saw this as something far greater than the mere stability you dreamed of, saw her touches as a protective hold and not a vice like grip of control.
Gold, champagne, food better than you had ever tasted before… oddly, you were more vulnerable when you were no longer weak or struggling.
Between her deep, ravenous bouts of affection lay a regimental dedication to unlocking what she referred to as your full potential and happiness. You’re better off when you obey, a twisted part of her long to remind you that defiance had never served you in the past.
And you believed her. You treated every word that came from the same lips that kissed and marked you with bites as dogma.
It was a sick, codependent blur of something akin to love and domination binding you together. She’d never admit it, but she herself had fallen in too deep. You held more power than you could ever imagine; you alone capable of instilling a fear of loss inside her in ways nothing else had before.
Valeria couldn’t afford weakness, but she couldn’t be without you- a small peek into the plight you’d been grappling with yourself since meeting her.
Yandere/Dark! Hanzo that is so painfully and utterly obsessed with you. He watches you in his every spare moment, follows you everywhere he’s able to and scares away every date or admirer before they even dream of making a move. You occupy his every vacant thought and claim his every desperate, private moment with your influence.
Alas, he’s frozen; chilled to the bone by remorse, by a nauseating hesitation born from feeling unworthy. He shamelessly meddles from a distance, ensuring you can never be anyone else’s whilst being too riddled with the scars of past mistakes to claim what he feels is his future.
You are ruining him and you haven’t the slightest clue. This little charade was bound to continue until one of you fell to madness. Him from sheer mania, you from the perpetual feeling of being haunted by someone you feel but never see.
Genji despite it all, knows his brother well. The years and spilled blood may have once divided them but it is now nothing more than a dead weight he longs to discard. Alas, he himself is stuck, trapped by the whims of the elder Shimada that refuses to move forward. Genji feared they may never reconcile, that Hanzo may never choose to walk beside him once again as family or equal.
He had forgiveness to share, but its intended recipient was far from willing. It seemed an eternal plight, a more painful wound than the one caused by any blade.
Until of course, he chanced upon Hanzo’s little fixation and his ticket to resolution. Perhaps, the younger male thought, if he hand delivered the one person he desired more than anything, he’d be more willing to receive his good graces and both of them could move forward. It was almost amusing to see the man that had scolded and scarred him for his behaviour fall to such simple desires it would do all too well as a means of playful ridicule later.
Ah yes, he knows his brother so very well. He can almost picture the panic coursing through his veins when he discovered his precious little darling had been taken by someone else. How amusing it would be to see his perturb change to raw, greedy relief when he realises you’re safely deposited in his bed. You were an appealing soul, so meek and easily plucked from your own little world- Genji couldn’t help but credit his fine taste.
Hanzo cannot resist the urge to pull you flush against his chest, removing the gag only to apply a sloppy greedy kiss he’s longed to give for so long. He was half tempted not to question this odd blessing but the nature of your presence demanded answers; the suggestion of someone as deft and attentive as him to you a cause of concern no matter their oddly charitable ways.
Your frightened, perfect face was held between his palms with a soft vice of disbelief for a moment as he simply stared. The question teeming in his conscience was answered from the shadows before he even thought to verbalise it;
‘Consider it a peace offering. Desperation does not suit you, brother…’
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A/N: thanks for sending anon, sorry this took ages- I’ve become very unwell. I hope this is the vibe you were after!
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Your name cut through the air in an exasperated, shrill manner. With it your stomach dropped and the breath in your lungs expelled in near choke; a scratchy, dry sensation on the tongue all that remained of your resolve. The single call carried fear and anxiety in its curt tone. You knew the source, and knew well enough that with him such afflictions were more dangerous than anger or rage. Such feelings were brief, easily extinguished and contained in the throes of violence and disorder. Alejandro proved that love and a desire to protect could be far more malicious and terminal in the wrong hands. For months you’d been confined to the alleged sanctuary of his house in the range, denied any taste of the outside or any instance that may put you in harms way. Alas, your heart had always found a way past its wrought iron gates and security out beyond the valley it crested. Every night, when your captor slept peacefully at your side, your mind wandered back home.
Back to the simple joys of choice, of a life not lived to serve his worst, most timorous impulses.
Today was the first time you’d been foolish enough to try and follow it.
A strange, faint sensation bubbled to the surface of your consciousness and you’d have been certain you ceased to exist in that moment if it weren’t for the flushing of heat on your scalp. Running would do you no good but staying mentally felt like defeat. To do so may as well have been resignation which would sooner kill your soul and further hollow your eyes more than anything that rested before or behind you.
Your gaze remained forward, taking in the scene of the towering mountain range and trees that were finally close enough to smell. Pine needles, grass bitten by the early winter dew and a breeze you’d been given only teasing, tantalising tastes of back in Alejandro’s gilded cage. A thousand thoughts clouded you as you took in the scene, inhaling deeply as his footsteps padded along the dry grass as they advanced toward you.
You logged the many natural threats that lurked the range before you and concluded none were half as intimidating as what you’d fled from.
Criminals, foreign mercenaries, strange men, pimps, and scoundrels…
Not even the distant peppering of buildings that indicated civilisation and the darker sides of humanity he insisted lurked there swayed you from the path you’d longed to take.
‘Stay right there, don’t fucking move…’ rarely did Alejandro swear or use coarse language in your company. He has been hell bent on separating his work and the rougher, more callous demeanour it demanded and the version of self he presented to you. As you felt him pull you back into a sloppy, breathless kiss you realised you may have been dealing with an eerie combination of the two. You were his mission and this little ill fated stunt of yours meant the stakes had just got higher.
He’d be a dozen times worse after this.
When a disciplinary blow to your rear was felt you gasped, shock parting your lips as he embraced you so tightly you might burst. Hands roamed over your form, feeling and studying the thin jacket you’d grabbed in a hurry to make your escape. You could almost read his mind and sensed a dozen disdainful words about how ill suited it was to the impending cold.
He pulled back, both hands perching on your shoulders to keep you there. ‘Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?’ A dozen curses, both in his native tongue and English. A habit of his acquired from work with foreign officials and coalition forces; the worst, most pressing situations could not be contained to a single language.
‘Oh to hell with it, ¡Me lleva la tostada!’
You almost slipping through his fingers and exposing yourself to danger was deserving of both.
‘I just wanted to-‘ he cut you off in an all too fitting fashion, your own words and desires second to his peace. He shook his head, a hand coming to cup the curve of the ass cheek where he’d spanked you. Regret knitting his brows at the result of his more impulsive response. A circle was rubbed onto the surface, and a dull ache in its place meant a bruise was likely to form; something akin to an embarrassing little souvenir of your poorly executed escape plan.
‘You terrified me…’ a guilty verdict- to worry Alejandro, to take away any of the control he’d so perfectly manicured was to dance with a force like no other. ‘Did I not treat you well? Did I not love you enough?’
Projection, he longed for you to say yes so he could shoulder the blame and grow even more desperate in his ways; nothing would incite him more than an excuse to show just how much he loved you.
A lump worked its way into your throat, desperation quavering your lips as you tried to reason with him. ‘I just missed home…’ he remained silent. You wished you could chalk it up to contemplation, to a bout of realisation and a promise to change. But alas, the stony disposition that washed over his face vanquished any hope of such rationalities.
‘Give it to me,’ he commanded, confusing further weighing down your features.
‘W..what?’ Before you could even make sense of it his hand fished out the primitive phone in your back pocket. A flood of regret left you mentally soggy and weighed down in place. You’d worked so hard to be trusted with that phone and had come to revere it in the way one might a lifeline. Though supervised and restricted, it at least let you speak to family. How foolish you were to let your fondness for it override the basic knowledge that it provided a means of beaconing your exact location at all times. He dropped it to the earth, letting his boot divide it in three heavy footfalls.
You swallowed, letting only your lip wobble as the device crumbled before you into a small shatter of battery and bits. Alejandro’s eyes softened, the deep brown within them melting ever so slightly enough to produce a glint of sympathy but it did not bleed anywhere else into his disposition. His arm drew you close, and the icy touches of the outside world were singed away by his burning embrace. It was warm, and in that moment, familiar. You no longer entertained the idea of running, no longer humoured the foolish fantasy that freedom would serve you.
‘Let’s go home… and stay there,’ he said, turning you with a force that was not born from malice, but an even eerier determination.
Home. Hogar.
Two names for the same pristine prison that awaited you. You could see it clearly nestled in the ridge that wasn’t as far away as your exhausted legs would have you believe. A small gust of wind kicked up and you inhaled; knowing you’d come to miss the sensation of it grating your lungs. You found yourself holding your breath as the two of you trudged along, savouring the small taste of the outside for as long as possible.
Yandere/Dark! Sergeant Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader Headcanons
C/W: GN reader, dark content, dark romance, unhealthy relationship, nsfw, stalking, minors DNI, dead dove do not eat
A/N: For the anon that wanted more hcs for anyone from tf141, Gaz called to me.
Kyle, as he insists you call him to establish something deeper and more personal from the get go, is enthusiastic. It’s a convenient box to slip his behaviour into, a positive trait that paints his eerie insistence on being privy and partial to your every thought or whim as desirable.
He’s always held himself to a high standard. Always fought tooth and nail to get where he wants to go and achieve what he’s felt necessarily so you’ll be no different. Kyle is dependable, an expert at being exactly what you need when you need it. A trustworthy friend, a doting neighbour, your knight in shining armour at the bar to ward off a creep… whatever it is, he conveniently swoops in and snugly slides himself into your life.
Whatever role lets him get a foot in, he takes to it with an unwavering and all encompassing sense of duty. He’s an expert at winning over family, friends and everyone you meet. They all fall for it. Those honest brown eyes, soft smile and humble air a perfect cover for his true intensity.
The second you’re his romantically, you unknowingly agree to a set of conditions that he enforces with an iron fist. He’s deceptive, wearing a silk glove of affection and condescension. A soft smile and boyish quip in his every word make up for a tainting fear of loosing you before he even has you. You’re assured this is a consequence of love, that anything less would be inadequacy- he thinks you’re perfect, and can’t afford to be anything but.
You begin to wonder and forget how it was ever without him, without his guiding words and assurances that soon turn to demands and rigid rules. It’s simple apparently, you’re his whole world, can’t he be yours too? It’ll all be better this way, just trust him. Give him that he can keep you safe, give him just that or he may just fall apart.
A part of him know this is wrong, knows it’s born from fear and from trying to prove to himself that he can be what you deserve, even if it means being your undoing.
He’s a master of making it seem so natural too. It seems so loving and condescendingly kind despite the forceful edge to it. Should you dare question it, or raise what may seem like justified concern, he’s quick to brandish the side of him that paints such disdain as insanity.
‘I’m just tryna’ look out for you babe, does that make me a villain?’
It can’t be so. Your stomach knots at the very suggestion despite your life being pulled apart at the seams and restitched by his hands into something tight and restricting. Villains are the things that go bump in the night, the things he worked against both far away and at home. Your Kyle, your ‘Gaz’ or whatever other nickname you may have for him couldn’t possibly be what you fear.
And he isn’t. He’s your partner, your future husband. He’s set in stone, he’s gonna be there no matter what. You’d be wise to give in, to grant him that same security back. Lest you see just how far he’s willing to go to maintain that status quo.
NSFW
Kyle can give you whatever you need, he’s always told you that. It gives you a false sense of agency, a glass and ornamental feeling of control he can so easily shatter if needed.
Because of this, he finds it almost invigorating to see you nervously try to take over. He’ll lay back, a cocky expression on his face as you try your damned hardest for a lick of power in your most raw and desperate moments.
‘Make me work for it…’
He’s a tease at best and tormentor at worst. Not at all above denying you for his own enjoyment so that he can lap up your desperation and savour your choppy words and flushed face when you start to beg.
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C/W: GN reader, dark content, dark romance, unhealthy relationship, nsfw, stalking, minors DNI, dead dove do not eat
A/N: mixing up the cod stuff as a reminder that I am a woman of many fixations when I actually have time. Also, consider this an AU where he is not paired with neytiri as I love her too much and don’t write infidelity.
Jake is no stranger to loss, nor is he unfamiliar with how unfair and vicious fate can be. Alas, in contrast and balance, he knows and recognises what instills hope and what’s worth protecting.
So when he finds himself drawn to you he feels a desperate, all consuming need to keep you safe and never let you go. In a way it’s an extension of his dedication to preserving his cause and fresh start on Pandora- you represent all he yearned for, and all he can’t afford to loose. You’re his future; he’s adamant about it even if you aren’t.
You’re expected to have comms attached 24/7 and he expects you to behave and answer immediately. Frequent check ins and under no circumstances do you engage or interact with the RDA without him. You’ll be kept away from most of the fighting and he’ll do what he can to shield you from any and all other threats on the planet.
He has a small circle (most likely Norm’s team and a few omatikaya) he trusts to keep tabs on you and they monitor and report back your every move with equal dedication. Where you went, who you spoke to in his absence and any favourite little hiding spots you have.
Jake once humoured a heroic image, vowed never to use his position as toruk makto for anything beyond uniting the clans and protecting pandora. Though should you stray, defy him, or should anyone else ever get their hands on you? He’s not above utilising his connections to remind you of just how committed he is to preventing you from leaving.
‘Just trust me, let me show you how much better it is when you’re mine,’ his words are far from lies. When you give in, when you play along, he’s doting and soft. His world revolves around you and he’s eager to prove it.
There’s no where you can run to, not a single clan that’ll offer you uturu, not one place you can hide that we won’t follow you. The self destructive side of his love is constant fear which means he’s always assuming the worst and always prying. If only for the sake of preventing more often than not will intimidate you into revealing any plans you have before you even attempt them. Honesty, however, does not spare you from punishment.
His heart still beats to the tempo of a marine and with that comes a certain desensitisation to getting his hands dirty for the perceived greater good. Jake earnestly believes grit is all it takes to ensure you’re his, and he’ll fight to the end for it.
NSFW
After a long day he loves nothing more than to come home and take you as his. It assuring- there’s no where else he’d rather have you than in his arms or beneath him. Slow and tender, drawing out the moment as long as possible. Jake wants you desperate, wants you to need him in the moment as much as he needs you all the time.
‘That’s it baby…’ He’s heavy on the praise, often rambling and vocalising every thought that enters his mind in a stream of consciousness. He’s also retained his foul mouth, half of the planet have probably heard him when he’s in the heat of it
If you’re out in public Jake always keeps a hand on you somewhere out of habit. It’s a trait that extends to times of intimacy, his touches sometimes so vigorous they bruise. For this reason, he’s a sucker for body paint. Seeing where he’s held you, seeing where he’s grabbed and claimed you inspires him for round two.
In a similar train of thought, he’s a huge fan of love bites. Most enthusiastic about giving them, but he’d be more than happy to receive one once you grow to accept him.
C/W: yandere, dark romance, stalking, unhealthy relationship, female reader, minors dni, dead dove do not eat
A/N: and for the ghost girlies, happy valentines <3. I wasn’t super satisfied with this but wanted to write *waves hands* something today. I’m on minimal sleep so apologies for any mistakes
W/C: 1k
Roses, at least two dozen of them. Maybe more, or maybe less. All bound neatly in matching paper with a ribbon artfully selected to match the deep tone they shared. Crimson, or perhaps garnet- whatever name fit it best, it was unmistakably the same bold, burning shade one might find in the beating heart of a lover.
The thundering of your pulse and gelatinous, heavy feeling of your arms weighed down by shock did no favours to your attempts at counting. Their petals were silky and barely present as your thumb pad inspected them; a mental note of the sheer price tag attached to one of the flowers let alone a bunch pushing forth. You bought a chosen specimen to your nose, letting the sweet and distinctive scent run its course.
Notes of spring and tea though it was the fresh almost dewy undertone that stuck out. These flowers were fresh and a perfect professional bunch. Their stems still holding some of semblance of the earth they’d been cut from; a far cry from grocery store tumbleweeds purchased in haste not passion. Your eyes trailed up to the clock on the wall, squinting to see it read 6:45pm. A flutter rose in your stomach, every thought that rose came to a boil and added to the cauldron of disquiet within you.
They had to have been placed there sometime in the last hour.
You swallowed, eyeing a small box resting not too far away on the counter. A hand nervously reached out and picked it up, the black velvet of its surface soft to the touch as your digit traced it. In doing so, you involuntarily prompted the little case to flip open. Within it, a heart pendant, simple in design but extravagant in the way its surface glittered. It sat in the dark, only the dim glow of a street lamp peeking through the window offering a ration of light.
And yet, it stood out like nothing else in this world; the icy stones on it casting a prism that stung if you stared too long, but it was the outstanding nature of it that demanded an unwavering gaze. You were almost hesitant to touch it, though your hands took the risk on their own. Behind the encrusted surface lay a dainty chain and a single, telling engraving.
A solo letter, plain and resolute etched on the back in a silent, indisputable claim: ‘S’.
It would’ve been romantic, astounding even, if an inconvenient and eerie reality was not lurking in recent past.
You’d been single for a month, leaving your old home and the clutches of a certain lieutenant to what you hoped would be only memory.
‘Ya like it?’ A distinctive pitch, one that rumbled with every word in a way that made it impossible to pinpoint where it came from. As if sensing your difficulty, he sounded again, a single heavy footstep accompanying his voice. ‘I said…’ two more footsteps, then the slightest, most retrained impact of a body against your back was felt. An exhalation dusted your shoulder, the meekest hint of a smirk evident in the heightened pitch at its tail end. ‘Do ya like it?’
Your body went stiff, the ticking of the clock ringing out loudly against the silence. Your mind wandered to the handbag you’d discarded on the sideboard, knowing your mobile phone rested inside it underneath a catastrophe of daily items. You took a moment to rue your own disorganisation, then another to try and beseech your own legs to move.
‘Don’ even think abou’ it….’ He hummed, the warmth of his breath sending contrastingly frosty tingles down your neck. Your heart raced, but your legs remained dead still, as though aware a retreat was aimless in his company. Rough knuckles danced down your cheek, using the momentum of a gentle touch to turn you and reveal the man you’d tried to flee once again holding you. You never suspected anything less, his voice and presence unmistakable as the daggers in your shock strained veins and the coil in your throat.
‘I’ll ask one las’ time love…’ pallid eyes bore into your own, dark circles suspended beneath them. ‘Do you like yer’ gifts?’
‘I…’ you stumbled over your words, torn between the affirmation he craved and some form of rebellion if only for your own ego. ‘Why?’ The word slipped forth, pain, frustration and sorrow dampening it to a near whimper. You knew the purpose of his visit, but prayed for some kind of miracle that would suggest otherwise.
‘It’s Valentines…’ he murmured, evidently choosing to misinterpret your query, ‘an’ you’re my girl.’ The black of his jacket and neck gaiter blending with the emptiness of your dingy, empty apartment. Your haste to leave and start fresh hadn’t afforded much time for fineries like proper furniture or decor. It also hadn’t given much energy to thoughts of so called love and the cupidity the day asked for, you’d hardly considered the date. Time only passed in minutes and hours of fickle freedom; of time spent away from him.
Simon thought he loved you, but as your departure has tried to teach him, it was possession that honeyed his words and made his kisses grow deeper. There were no promises of a future, merely demands. He would never be content loving you; his damaged heart would only ever be satisfied if it owned you completely.
‘What is it they say?’ He pondered aloud, plucking the necklace from its place and holding it up. Both your lines of sight landed on it, taking in the glow before he began to collar your neck with it, the cool of silver against a body flushed with anxiety noticeable.
‘Diamonds are for’ever or something…’ he couldn’t hide his amusement with the cliche, ‘a whether you like it or no’t darlin…’ with a click the pendant fell in place. It was like an ornate domino, a dainty accessory to signal that you were right back at square one.
Yandere/Dark! Vladimir Makarov x Reader Headcanons
CW: GN reader, dark content, dark romance, obsessive behaviour, nsfw, unhealthy relationship, minors DNI, mak is just evil by default and deserves his own tw, implied violence
A/N: I used reboot Makarov for the pic but you can apply this to whichever version you choose.
Vladimir can’t afford any inconveniences. So to ignore you and the way you’ve utterly captivated him beyond all reason or foresight, would be detrimental. The thought of being without you is incapacitating and akin to vulnerability. Dare he say it, he has a weakness and it’s one no amount of firepower or bloodshed can fix. He cannot live without you. So for a man of his calibre there’s only one conclusion- he won’t.
There’s no if or but about it, he has to have you for himself. Forever and wholly, no matter what. He’s a man of action, devoting himself of the ends no matter the means. It’s all too easy to have a group of his most trusted men pluck you away from whatever life you were foolishly content to live before he swept you away into the life you were destined for.
Money, threats or something even more dire… whatever it takes, he’s quick to make sure your past is silenced or, if needed, erased completely. He’s not satisfied until the version of you that lived without him is reduced to an almost alien, forgotten memory. He keeps trinkets from your past as a bargaining chip for good behaviour; comfort items to play into your misguided insistence that you were better off without him.
Despite his callous behaviour in all other areas, he is far from unkind to you once you’ve properly settled. He can keep you contained, strip you of all agency and torment and deprive of you of all that is familiar until you bend to him, but he knows he cannot win you over that way. He’s not so unwise to assume you’ll love him back through brute force.
‘You can choose to stand beside me, or I will make you kneel before me. Either way.. you’ll be mine’ Vladimir craves a compliant companion he can hold as a constant and measure of success. In truth, you’re more akin a pet than a partner. All your needs will be met, you’re spoilt and treated with caring but all encompassing control. You have little freedom in the real world, but you’re given an entirely new one at his behest.
You’ll be well groomed; designer clothes that flatter you to his taste and anything to ensure you always look the part even if you don’t feel it. Gourmet food to keep you healthy and satisfied and round the clock security to keep you safe and contained. You’ll have no contact with the outside unless he allows it.
If you don’t ever manage to return his twisted but earnest love, he’s disdainful but adamant you’ll eventually grant yourself acceptance. You’ll learn his power is all encompassing and stains everything it touches, so resistance does little but deprive you of your destiny.
NSFW
For him, sex is a means of de stressing and reminding himself (and you) of the power he holds. He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere he sees fit; in the back of a car after a mission, in the walls of one of his many safe houses, in a helicopter… perhaps one day he hopes, within the confines of the kremlin.
If you’re capable of bearing an heir, that’ll be your duty. Though the reasoning behind it is methodical and calculated, there’s something primal and indulgent about the way he brings it to fruition. He speaks of the future you’re carving between each thrust, and promises an even more gilded future when you’re raising his legacy.
Should you test his patience, you’re guaranteed to feel the might of those signature black gloves on your rear. Spread over his lap, your own hands by either his unoccupied palm or velveteen rope, each strike it’s a perfect representation of how quickly he sought to claim and mould you to submission.
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Yandere/Dark Col. Alejandro Vargas x Reader Headcanons
CW: GN reader, dark content, dark romance, obsessive behaviour, nsfw, unhealthy relationship, minors DNI
A/n: I spy a lack of dark Alejandro content, so I’ll be the change I want to see in the world.
Somewhere along the way, he became jaded. No good deed goes unpunished, and perpetual exposure to the darker, grittier sides of humanity had whittled away any feeling of satisfaction he got from holding back. The rewards for patience, for doing things the ‘right way’ are shrouded in memories of loss and most poignantly, feelings of guilt.
It’s so easy for his mind to run, to let the what ifs take control and plague him. It’s made him proactive; when it comes to having you, he knew he had to move quickly and with purpose. No one would stop him, no exterior force could sway him, not even you. Every protest, every plea for freedom is treated with naivety.
‘I do this for your sake, you’ll understand eventually’ truthfully, he doesn’t care if you never come to terms with his ways. It doesn’t change how eager he is to enforce them.
You’re his purpose, the one thing he counts on to instil hope; let him be selfish, just this once. Let him keep tabs on you. Let him show up at your front door every night until you’re so worn you let him in without question (at least, until you at last move in with him.) Let him choose what’s best for you before things get messy.
If you resist, he’s not above concocting scenarios where you’re shown just how dangerous the world is and how deeply you need him. That solo trip out you begged him for? Ends in tears when you encounter some less than savoury individuals that attempt to rob or harass you. You’re unharmed physically, and blissfully unaware said miscreants are working on his dime, paid actors of a sort to fulfil some script that affirms what once seemed like irrational concerns.
He’ll be there to dry your tears and take you in his arms, brandishing his presence as the solution to every problem and fear both real and seemingly imaginary.
He’s earnestly convinced he can atone for every loss or moment of pain he’s ever felt if he takes you wholly and completely as his. To the small select group of outsiders he trusts with knowing of your existence, it sounds and appears as though he’s happily married and living with his long term partner.
He paints a vague albeit organic picture of meeting you, of a romantic pursuit and quaint date nights, omitting the truth and garnishing the obsessiveness of his ways with a smokescreen of soft words.
He can’t be a hero everywhere, can’t save everyone. Alejandro can’t control many things, but he can, if only you’d let him, carve a future for you both. The colonel uses you to steal himself a small piece of paradise in a world that once had him feel as though such feelings were unattainable.
NSFW
Your needs take priority, and it’s guaranteed you’ll finish every time. He genuinely enjoys pleasing you, it feels like an extension of the duty he feels toward you; so much so, that you’re no stranger to overstimulation.
Alas, his motivations are not inherently selfless. He sees intimacy as a testing ground for how far he can push his control.
‘Easy… you know I’ve got you…’ with eerie satisfaction, he’ll take you further and further each time. Savouring your every expression and eventual reduction to an exhausted, flushed husk as a signal of acceptance.
He doesn’t like using anything sexual as punishment, but will be quick to use it as compensation. He dilutes any feelings of anger you have or disregards harsh or frustrated words you may toss at him with passionate touches and much much more.
Your pleas for freedom and claims of hatred of his ways loose all credibility when you’re shown just how good he can make you feel, when you moan for him. If he has to record such incidences to remind you in future, then so be it.