yunyuu

[yunyuu]

A kid just called me pretty... I'm so happy rn :))))))

[yunyuu]

. . . RUN, RABBIT RUN! ࣪ ✰◌ ۪

⧣₊˚﹒SYNOPSIS ★ you know it wasn't easy escaping him. but you tried anyway. was it adrenaline? was it stupidity? probably both...

☆. PAIRINGS … Yandere Dante x Fem!reader, Yandere Vergil x Fem!reader, Yandere Nero x Fem!reader

☆. GENRE … obsessive romance, yandere, toxic relationship.

☆. WORD COUNT … 1.4k

☆. A/N … this song always creep me out wtf—

⋆ DANTE – “You’re Not Going Anywhere, Sweetheart”

You thought he was asleep.

The apartment was quiet—just the soft buzz of the neon sign outside bleeding red into the dusty hallway. Your bag was already packed, hidden beneath the couch for weeks, just in case. You were careful. You didn’t even breathe too loud as you crept past him.

But Dante wasn’t asleep.

“You always this sneaky, babe?”

His voice, husky from fake slumber, echoed from the couch behind you. You froze. You knew that voice—smooth, lazy, dangerous. The way he said it sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t even turn. “I just needed some air.”

He laughed.

“You have a bag. Your 'air' sounds a lot like you're trying to run away from me.”

You ran anyway.

Your fingers barely grazed the doorknob before his hand slammed against it, pinning the door shut. The other curled around your waist, pulling you back into his chest, warm and unyielding. You felt his smile against your neck, wolfish and amused.

“I get it, I really do,” he murmured. “I'm not exactly the poster boy for mental health, huh?”

You swallowed. “Let me go.”

He didn’t.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” His voice dropped lower. “I feed you, talk to you, don’t lock you up. I gave you freedom because I trusted you, baby.”

His grip tightened, and he finally turned you to face him. There it was—those blood-red eyes flashing with something feral. Not rage. Not sadness.

Possession.

“You try to leave me again,” he whispered, “and I’ll put chains on that pretty little neck of yours. And I’ll still kiss your bruises after. Still call you my girl.”

He cupped your cheek. “You’re mine. You got that?”

And the worst part?

He kissed you so sweetly after, it almost made you believe it was love.

⋆ VERGIL – “You Belong to Me”

There was no warning. No shout. No loud footstep behind you.

Just him—Vergil.

He appeared in front of the exit like a shadow. One moment, the door was in reach. The next, he was there, standing with Yamato sheathed at his side and fury in his eyes so cold, it felt like winter had crawled into your lungs.

“You disappoint me,” he said, quiet but lethal. “After everything I’ve given you.”

You felt cornered, like prey. But you stood your ground.

“You didn’t give me anything,” you hissed. “You took me.”

His gaze flickered, lips thinning. “I saved you from a meaningless life. You are not meant to live in chaos. You are meant to serve a purpose. My purpose.”

You moved, hoping to duck past him, but Yamato was unsheathed before you even blinked. Its edge stopped inches from your throat.

“I won’t harm you,” he said coldly. “But I will stop you.”

Tears welled up. Not from fear. From exhaustion. From the feeling that maybe no one would come. Not even Dante.

“You can’t keep doing this forever,” you whispered.

His expression didn’t change, but his voice softened into something worse than anger.

“I don’t need forever. I only need you to understand that you are mine.”

He took a step forward, blade lowering, and pressed his forehead to yours. A rare, intimate gesture that felt more like a cage than comfort.

“You will stay,” he whispered. “Even if I must strip away your will to make you do so.”

And you knew—he meant it.

⋆ NERO – “Why Would You Leave Me?”

Nero hadn’t stopped calling your name.

You could hear him down the street, heavy boots pounding pavement like a man possessed. And maybe he was. His voice cracked between anger and desperation.

“Where are you?! Come on! You think I won’t find you?!”

You ran faster.

But you weren’t fast enough.

His Devil Bringer snatched your waist like a steel trap, yanking you back into his arms. You screamed, kicked, clawed—but he didn’t flinch.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled, spinning you to face him.

His eyes were wild. Hurt. Furious. Panicked. Like you’d taken a knife to his heart.

“I was scared!” you shouted. “You—Nero, you don’t let me breathe anymore!”

He staggered back, just slightly. Like your words punched him in the chest.

“I’m just… I’m trying to protect you,” he said, voice cracking. “You don’t get it. The world out there—it’ll chew you up and spit you out. And I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “You’re suffocating me…”

He didn’t let go. If anything, he held you tighter. His mechanical arm trembled.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he whispered. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

You stayed silent.

And that broke him.

“…Fine,” he muttered. “You want space? I’ll give you space. But I’m keeping you close where I know you’re safe.”

He pressed a trembling kiss to your forehead. “Even if you hate me for it.”

And with that, he lifted you into his arms—bridal-style—like nothing had happened.

Like your attempted escape was just a bad dream.

꒷꒦ © yunyuu. do not repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on any platforms.

[yunyuu]

. . . DADDY'S GIRL – L.S.K ࣪ ✿◌ ۪

⧣₊˚﹒SYNOPSIS ✿゙ you always knew Leon would be a good father. but you didn’t expect this. not the way his entire soul would fold around a tiny heartbeat. not the way he would look at your child like she hung the goddamn moon.

✿゙. PAIRING … Leon S. Kennedy x Fem Reader pt 1

✿゙. GENRE … soft, emotional, a little angsty, domestic life with Leon.

✿゙. WORD COUNT … +4k

✿゙. A/N … sorry y'all I just love girl dad leon sm (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

He’s quiet, at first.

When she’s born, Leon holds her like she’s made of glass. The world has broken too many things he cared about, and he refuses—refuses—to let her be one of them.

You see him pacing the nursery at night, bare-chested, cradling her against his shoulder. He's tired, always tired, but there's a strange sort of peace in his eyes when she falls asleep to the beat of his heart.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs to her. “You’ll never see what I’ve seen.”

Protective doesn’t even cover it.

Leon triple-checks every lock on the house. Security system, cameras, motion sensors—you name it, he’s installed it. You swear he’s got a backup plan for the backup plan.

The first time she gets a fever, you have to physically stop him from calling a med-evac.

“She’s just teething, Leon.”

“She’s sweating. She’s shaking.”

“She’s a baby.”

He sits up all night anyway, holding her upright against his chest so she can breathe easier. He doesn’t blink. You find him at dawn, still rocking her, muttering about pathogens and emergency routes to the hospital.

He’s scared of messing up.

That’s the part he doesn’t say. Not out loud. But it shows.

It’s in the way he watches you change diapers like it’s a combat maneuver.

The way he double-sterilizes her bottles.

The way he checks on her three, four, five times a night.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he admits once, sitting on the edge of the bed with your daughter curled up between you both.

“You’re doing fine,” you whisper, hand brushing through his hair.

“She deserves better than me.”

“No,” you say. “She deserves you.”

You’re not sure if he believes you, but you catch him smiling into her hair after she burps against his shirt.

And the little girl adores him.

When she starts walking, it’s to wobble toward him.

She clutches his pants leg, yells when he tries to leave for a supply run, climbs up his legs like he’s a jungle gym.

She likes to sleep with her head on his chest. It’s the only way she’ll stay down through the night. She even pulls at his dog tags when she’s sleepy, fingers curling around the cold metal until she dozes off.

“Already got her trained,” he jokes softly, but there’s something glassy in his voice.

He tells her stories.

Never the real ones. Not yet.

But he makes up fairy tales in that deep, slow voice of his. He gives her imaginary castles, dragon-fighting princesses, heroes with big hearts and messy hair who always win in the end.

You lie in bed some nights and listen from the door.

“And then the knight kissed his daughter on the forehead and told her there’s nothing in this world that could ever take him away.”

Leon never thought he’d live this long.

But now he’s here.

With you. With her. With the quiet.

And for once, the nightmares stay away.

Because when your daughter climbs into bed in the middle of the night, curls between you both, and sighs out his name like it’s a lullaby—

“Daddy…”

He holds her close, lets his eyes fall shut, and believes—maybe for the first time—

That he’s finally safe, too.

Your daughter’s name is Lily.

Short for nothing. Just Lily.

Because it’s soft. Because Leon said it reminded him of something gentle—something he didn’t want the world to ruin.

She’s five now. And she’s got his eyes.

Blue like a storm that’s trying to behave.

You see it every time she narrows them in suspicion—tilts her little chin up just like him when she thinks someone’s lying.

“You sure the tooth fairy really took my tooth and not just you?”

Leon raises a brow. “What are you implying?”

“You look like a thief.”

You try not to laugh. He tries not to cry.

Leon ages like a photograph kept in a wallet.

Worn at the corners. A little faded.

Still beautiful. Still there.

His hair is touched with gray now, at the temples and behind his ears. You catch him staring into the mirror sometimes, tracing the lines around his eyes like he’s trying to count the things that made them.

She climbs onto his lap while he’s sitting on the porch one evening, beer untouched beside him.

“You’re gonna die before mommy,” she says suddenly, matter-of-fact, as kids do.

He stills.

You freeze at the door, watching from the shadows.

Leon exhales through his nose, then pulls her close.

“Yeah, maybe. But I'm not die for a long time.”

“How long?”

He kisses the top of her head. “Long enough to scare away your boyfriends.”

“Ew, boys are gross.”

He smiles.

But the nightmares still come.

Some nights he wakes up gasping.

Sweat-soaked. Shoulders trembling.

You hold him until the shaking stops, rub circles into his back, whisper you’re here.

He doesn’t talk about it.

But you’ve learned his silences by now.

When he’s quiet too long. When he stares too hard at nothing.

When he doesn’t kiss Lily goodnight because he’s afraid he’ll bring something dark into the room with him.

You find her curled up outside your bedroom door once.

A little blanket. A stuffed lion. A frown on her face.

“Daddy’s sad,” she says.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “He’s trying.”

He never lets his guard down in public.

Lily never notices, but you do.

Leon always sits with his back to the wall.

Always knows the exits.

Always checks the people walking in and out.

Even at the ice cream shop.

He’s holding a triple scoop of strawberry for Lily and still tracking a man in a black coat by the window.

“She’s got sprinkles in her hair, honey,” you murmur, nudging his arm.

He glances down. She’s smiling up at him, pink all over her lips and chin.

He breathes out and kisses the top of her head. “Let’s get you a napkin, baby.”

Then one day, something happens.

A car.

A scream.

A man trying to snatch a child near the park.

It’s not your daughter, but she’s close—too close.

Leon moves like instinct.

Gun drawn, voice sharp, posture coiled like a soldier.

He subdues the man before you even realize what’s happening.

The cops thank him. People whisper.

Lily just tugs on your hand and whispers, “Daddy’s mad.”

When you get home, she draws him a picture.

It’s him with a cape. And glowing eyes. Holding her hand.

“You’re a superhero,” she tells him, pushing the crayon paper into his lap.

Leon stares at it like it hurts.

Like she’s giving him something he doesn’t know how to deserve.

Then he folds her into his arms and whispers, “Only for you.”

Sometimes you wonder if she understands.

That he’s not normal. That most dads don’t clean their guns with surgical precision at 2 a.m.

That most dads don’t flinch when a balloon pops.

But then you see her tuck a tiny toy gun into her backpack.

“Just in case, like Daddy.”

And Leon kneels in front of her, adjusting the straps, voice soft:

“Remember what I taught you. You don’t run toward danger. You get safe, then you tell someone.”

“Like you?”

He smiles. “Like me.”

And then—there’s the quiet moments.

When she’s asleep between you both, limbs everywhere.

When Leon’s hand is tangled in her hair and yours is wrapped around his chest.

When the TV glows in the background and your living room smells like popcorn and baby shampoo.

He turns to you sometimes, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You gave me a life,” he says quietly.

You blink at him. “What?”

“This. You. Her. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have.”

And maybe he’s not whole. Maybe he never will be.

But he’s yours.

And he’s hers.

And for once in a long, long time—

Leon is alive.

Not just surviving.

Living.

꒷꒦ © yunyuu. do not repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on any platforms.