Yandere!Ranmaru = Yabaimaru lol (more yabai than dere in this case)
Warnings for dub-con, captivity, female!reader, lots of spicy implications and yabaimaru.
You can still feel Ranmaru’s heat inside you. He had pulled out what felt like hours ago and now your cheek is pressed against his chest, his hand firm against the small of your naked back.
(The same hand which had held your wrists together above your head, pinning you securely to the mattress as his hips dug strongly, almost painfully into yours. You can still see the greedy gleam in his eyes every time you gasped or struggled against his grip.)
You shift, frowning a little at the mass of uncomfortable stickiness between your legs.
“What’s the matter?”
You freeze. Ranmaru’s hand tightens around your waist. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. His hair is flat and disheveled, making him look strangely vulnerable despite what he had done to you earlier. It’s so different from his usual wild style that you idly think of brushing his bangs back and fluffing it up for a sense of normalcy.
Is this what normal is like now? you wonder. A tinge of fear rises up in your throat but you swallow it back down. (The smirk on his lips when you finally lifted your head from between his thighs and reluctantly opened your mouth to show there was nothing left inside was almost predatory. He had returned the favor right afterwards.)
You know it won’t end well if you don’t answer him.
“You didn’t…”
The stare he levels at you makes you almost lose your nerve, but you soldier on bravely because the consequences if you don’t far outweigh your present fears.
“You didn’t use protection this time.”
“...So?”
You are this close to turning away from him in a huff, but you know from past experience he’ll just pull you back for another round if you do. You try again, your motivator the feeling of the thick, clinging remains of just now still fresh and sticky between your legs and a warning of what could potentially happen if you didn’t address it now.
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
Your voice is small, so small and nervous but it reaches him all the same. His chest rises and falls under you with the great sigh he heaves when what you say is finally processed by his brain, still foggy from post-coital satisfaction.
“Fine. I get it.”
He sits up stiffly. You push yourself up to do the same and get a bleary glare in return.
“Stay here.”
“But--” Your protest is cut off by him roughly shoving you back into the mattress, calloused fingers a tight collar around the back of your neck.
“Stay.”
Now you know exactly how Ikko feels whenever Ranmaru catches him trying to head butt his precious bass and pins him down from behind with the exact same move. You nod meekly, hands curled into fists by your head. The tension drains from your neck as he lets go and ruffles your hair.
“I’ll be back soon.”
His grumbles are surprisingly loud in the quiet of the room as he searches for and pulls on his clothes, followed by the sharp click of the door locking from the outside. (He’s never given you the key to his place before. Not when he invited you to drop by any time when you first met, not when you started dating, not even when he told you your apartment was sealed for bug fumigation and you gave in to his suggestion of moving in with him until it was done. It had been a nagging worry at the back of your mind then but now you knew why.)
It’s a while before you take a deep breath of your own and finally dare to get up. Every muscle in your body begs for mercy as you do so slowly, especially the ones in your back and waist. The room and sheets are saturated with his smell, all sweat and musk and metal. (His kisses are the same flavor, deep and rough and messy and filled with a ravenous hunger that can only be satiated by you.)
You hobble your way to the bathroom, the urge to get yourself washed up stronger than the desire to curl back up in bed and wonder if you were dreading or looking forward to Ranmaru’s return.
*
Ranmaru’s shaking you awake. He’s back in bed next to you and saying something but your mind and ears are still blocked by sleep. One thing that does make it through is the sharp impatient click of his tongue as he finally gives up. The next thing you know he’s hauling you to sit upright and twisting open the bottle of water he’s brought to bed with him.
You’re still blinking the drowsiness out of your eyes when your chin is grabbed and his tongue parts your lips forcefully. Wide awake now, you hold on to his shoulders, your gasp of surprise muffled by his mouth over yours as your back hits the bed again, his free hand cupping your head to limit your struggling. A hard tablet somehow makes its way to the back of your mouth and you’re forced to either swallow or choke on it.
He only lets go once you’ve calmed down, a translucent line of silver connecting your panting lips to his as he lifts his head. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally get back enough breath to ask what the hell did he just feed you.
“Morning after pill. Problem solved, right?”
You gape at him. He takes another swig of water and presses close to you again.
“Better make sure you wash it down properly.”
Still in a daze from how he literally took your breath away, you somehow manage to catch hold of his wrist when you feel him working a hand down your stomach. He kisses his way to the side of your neck as you weakly shake your head, your body still aching and not ready.
“Don’t worry, babe. I got condoms at the store too. I’ll use them this time.”
You want to tell him that’s not the problem now but he’s already sucking hard on the curve leading to your shoulder, both hands now under your thighs and lifting your hips up. His name is the last thing you manage to say coherently before he starts again, and then even that is lost amongst the gasps and moans he induces from you as the night drags on endlessly and mercilessly.