#Yandere shouto

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[ttodorokiii]

aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(

warnings: yándèrè, guílt, mánípùlátíòn, íntènsè.

note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!

•••

You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.

You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…

But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.

You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.

And it terrifies you.

Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,

feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.

So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,

you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.

“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.

It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”

He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,

like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.

“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”

How dare he say that?

You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.

“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.

“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”

He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…

You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,

Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.

But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.

“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.

You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.

You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”

But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.

“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”

And it’s in that moment you realize,

the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.

And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.

[kikyoupdates]

Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

prologue | story masterlist | next

After what just happened, it feels like you have to tell your parents about it.  

“Mom, dad,” you say. “I think I just got my Quirk.”  

They react by smiling brightly. “Oh, that’s lovely, sweetie. What kind of Quirk is it?”  

Now comes the hard part. Since even you barely know how your powers work, explaining it to them will be a nearly impossible feat.  

You furrow your brows. “Um... it’s kind of weird. Out of nowhere, I started seeing this screen with different stuff written all over it. Nobody else can see it, though, so that’s why I think it might be my Quirk.”  

Out of fear of getting in trouble, you decide not to tell them about the fact that Katsuki passed out after you used your ability on him. You already feel pretty guilty about it. For the time being, you just want to figure out how your Quirk actually works.

“A screen that’s invisible to everyone but you?”  

Your parents exchange confused glances. It makes sense that they don't quite understand, because under normal circumstances, Quirks are mostly hereditary. Children most often develop powers that are similar to those of their parents, or some combination of the two. But neither of your parents has a power like yours, which is why you were so perplexed when it first popped up.  

“Interesting,” your mother hums. “And you’re sure it’s your Quirk? It’s not just some game you like to play with your friends? It’s important to know the difference between real life and pretend, honey.”  

You nod vigorously. “I’m not making it up. I promise.”  

“[Name]’s a good girl,” your father insists. “If she says she isn’t lying, then we should believe her. Quirks are mutations, at the end of the day. It might be unlikely, but it’s still possible for her to have powers different from ours. All that matters is that she finally has something to call her own. I remember being awfully excited when my Quirk first manifested. It’s a big milestone, after all.”  

“Well, I suppose that’s true. Okay, then. In that case, we should celebrate,” your mother beams. “Our little girl finally has a Quirk! What would you like to do to commemorate the occasion, hm? Do you want us to order you some yummy food or take you shopping to buy something you like?”  

Your parents love to spoil you, and since you are only a little kid, you certainly can't help but capitalize on the opportunity. 

The day your Quirk manifests, your family treats you to a delicious meal and even buys you a little gift. You end up having so much fun that you briefly forget all about your initial goal, which is to try and decipher the specifics of your Quirk. You even forget about poor Katsuki, who is bedridden after suddenly fainting.  

It isn't until later that same night that it all comes back to you, thanks to a sudden notification. 

[𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞��𝐧𝐞.]

You’ve just gotten into bed and are staring up at your bedroom ceiling when you see the message pop up. It showed up completely unprompted, just like last time. This has to be your Quirk. Nothing else would make any sense. Well, unless you're somehow trapped in an incredibly long dream, but that seems like a stretch. 

“Charm someone,” you mumble. You have to admit that you're a little nervous. The last time you used your ability on a person, they passed out. Will the same thing happen again? Also, why is it calling this a mission? It almost seems to imply that there's some sort of reward to be had once you complete it.  

There's really no way of knowing—other than actually trying it out, of course.  

When morning rolls around, you head straight for Katsuki’s house and knock on his front door.  

Mitsuki is the one to greet you. “Oh, hi there,” she smiles. “You’re one of Katsuki’s little friends, aren’t you? Thank you for bringing him home the other day when he wasn’t feeling well.”  

“I’m [Name],” you say, trying not to look too guilty, since you're the whole reason Katsuki fainted in the first place. “Is Katsuki feeling better today?”  

“He’s perfectly fine. I’m sure he was just tired and needed some rest. He’s eating breakfast right now, but did you want to come inside and talk to him for a bit?”

After you respond with an affirmative nod, Mitsuki ushers you into the house. It's your first time actually being here. It still hasn't been very long since you’ve moved into the neighborhood, and even though you often play with Katsuki and the rest of his friends, you have yet to visit any of their homes. 

You find Katsuki sitting at the dining table, spooning some cereal into his mouth. You're pretty much always thrilled to see him. He is one of your role models, and you can only hope that you'll one day be as confident and fearless as he is.  

So, naturally, you break out into a grin the second you spot him. 

“Katsuki!” you cry out, practically rushing over to him. “Good morning!”  

As much as you wish you could say that Katsuki responds with the same enthusiasm, that isn't at all the case.  

Instead, he visibly recoils, cheeks darkening to a deep shade of red.  

“Why are you here?” he huffs, sounding a bit annoyed. “I already told you that I was fine yesterday. You didn’t need to make such a fuss over nothing. And you even took me back to my parents? I would’ve been back to normal if you gave me a few minutes. I was just taking a little nap, that’s all.”  

Your shoulders slump. “Oh. I’m sorry. I know you’re really strong, Katsuki, but you fainted so suddenly. I was so worried I almost started crying...”

He doesn't snap at you a second time. Instead, he spoons another helping of milk and cereal into his mouth, still blushing all the way up to his ears. He appears to be avoiding eye contact, and you suspect that it has something to do with the fact that you kissed him yesterday.  

He doesn't seem to blame you for the fact that he passed out, though. No one really thinks you're responsible for that incident. They still don't even know that your Quirk has manifested.  

A part of you wants to tell him, but that would be the same thing as admitting you made him fall ill the other day. So, for the time being, you decide to keep your mouth shut. You want answers first. 

Katsuki’s glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What do you keep staring at me for? Weirdo. You’re being kind of annoying, so here. Have this candy bar. I was saving it for later, but you can have it instead.”

“Wow, really?” you gush. “Thank you so much! You’re the best, Katsuki.”  

He can't help but crack a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”  

You hang out with Katsuki for a while longer after he finishes up his breakfast. He gives you the grand tour of his room—which is decked out in a bunch of All Might merch and looks super impressive—and then you eventually take your leave.  

Before you do, though, you want to make sure of one last thing.  

“Are you sure you're feeling alright?” you insist. “It was really scary seeing you collapse like that. I just don’t want you to be hurt. I’d be really sad if that was the case.”  

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You’re nagging me the same way my mom does. I already told you I’m fine. I can handle that much, no sweat. Didn’t I already tell you I’m going to become the Number One hero one day?”  

“Well... alright. As long as you’re okay.”  

You have a mission to charm someone, but you have no intention of using it on Katsuki again. If you end up making him faint a second time, it would seriously weigh on your conscience.  

So, you decide to approach your other closest friend, Izuku.  

Izuku is different than Katsuki. He's a bit of a crybaby, but that's only because he's such a sweet, honest kid. He tends to be more emotional than most, which just goes to show how much he cares about things. He especially cares about other people and making sure that they always have smiles on their faces. He hates to watch someone get hurt, and when Katsuki fainted, he was easily the most frantic out of everyone. 

Given his considerate nature, you feel like it would be okay to entrust him with the truth.  

“So... your Quirk manifested yesterday?” he blinks. “And after you kissed Kacchan and used your powers on him, he fainted?”

You press your lips into a thin line, feeling quite guilty with the admission. “Yeah. Please don’t tell anyone else yet, Izuku. You’re the only one who knows, because I trust you to keep it a secret. My Quirk seems pretty confusing so far, so I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with it.”  

“I-I promise to keep it a secret!” he reassures, nodding his head so fast that his curly green locks bob in place.  

“Thank you, Izuku.” You pause, not quite sure how to breach the next topic. “Um... there was actually something else I wanted to tell you about.”  

His brows arch. “Sure. What is it?”  

“My Quirk... it gave me a mission. It said I have to charm someone again. I’m not sure what’ll happen when I actually do it, but I want to give it a try and see how it goes. I’m hoping it might help me figure things out.”  

“Oh, okay.”  

Clearly, Izuku doesn't seem to understand where you're going with this, but once the realization finally sets in, a strangled little gasp catches in the back of his throat.  

“W-Wait!” he squeaks, flailing his hands in a panic. “D-Do you mean that you want to use your Quirk... on me?”  

You smile shyly. “I was hoping to, yes. I have to kiss someone before I can charm them, though. Would that be okay? A kiss on the cheek, like what I did to Katsuki yesterday?”  

At only four years of age, even just a cheek kiss is a big deal. Someone like Katsuki is normally unfazed by most things, but even he got incredibly flustered when you kissed him. You can only imagine how Izuku—the shyest kid in the neighborhood—might react.  

He’ll probably refuse. If he does, I should just leave it. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.  

To no one’s surprise, Izuku is already burning red from embarrassment. He’s taken several steps back, most likely out of pure instinct, and is now clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles are white as paper.  

“You want to k-kiss me,” Izuku stammers nervously.  

“Only if you let me,” you promise. “I don’t want to make you upset. It’s just that it’s the only way to use my charm ability, so... yeah. But then again, I’m worried that you might end up fainting too. Ugh. I don’t really know what to do...”  

Embarrassment aside, you can understand why Izuku might be afraid to let you use your Quirk on him, especially after what he just witnessed yesterday. He has every right to refuse, purely from a self-preservation standpoint.  

But he doesn't.

“O-Okay,” Izuku swallows. “I’m happy you got your Quirk, [Name]. And... I want to help. Y-You can kiss me if you need to. Even if I pass out, it’s okay. As long as I can help you.”  

He proceeds to squeeze his eyes shut, no doubt too flustered to bear watching everything unfold. You officially have his go-ahead, and even though you don't want to end up making him feel unwell, you aren't sure how else you're supposed to get used to your Quirk.  

Please don’t make Izuku faint. Please let him be okay.  

Drawing in a sharp breath, you slowly approach him. Despite the fact that his eyes are closed, he can still hear you moving closer, and he starts shaking like a leaf in the wind. You figure it's best to just go for it as quickly as possible and spare him the nervous anticipation. 

Blushing quite a bit yourself, you peck Izuku on the cheek, then hastily pull away.  

“I-It’s done,” you say. “Izuku, you can open your eyes now.”  

He does just that, although it takes him a while to actually work up the nerve. Eyes the color of emeralds slowly drift open, and he even lets out a nervous little hiccup, clearly mortified beyond belief.

“A-A girl—hic—a girl actually k-kissed me,” Izuku stutters.  

[𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮?]

There it is again. You now have the option of using your ability, just like before. You can't deny that you're a little worried. A power that makes people fall over unconscious is quite daunting, but you hope that things won't always turn out that way.

“Hold my hand,” you offer. “Just in case you fall over. I’ll catch you so that you don’t get hurt.”  

Nodding shyly, Izuku wraps his little hand around yours, then you finally make your selection. 

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

It doesn't take very long for your Quirk to take effect. Much like Katsuki, he starts looking weak and unsteady. You hold his hand tightly, even loop your arm around his back to make sure he doesn't suddenly faceplant onto the ground. His breathing is getting shallower by the second, and if you thought the blush on his cheeks before was outrageous, it can't even compare to the one he has now.

“I feel... weird,” Izuku mumbles. Too weak to even remember his earlier embarrassment, he clings to your body as if he's holding on for dear life. “[Name], what’s... what’s happening? I feel... warm and fuzzy. So warm...”  

You fear that he's getting close to passing out. So far, it seems to be following the exact same pattern as before. Darn it. Is this really a mistake? Is coming to terms with your Quirk really worth doing this to the people you care about?  

Before you can ponder the moral implications of your actions, Izuku suddenly cups your cheek with his hand, then presses his lips against yours.  

Um?!  

It's a quick, chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. A real kiss, not just one on the cheek. You feel like your entire face is on fire, and it's safe to say that you’ve been momentarily stunned from embarrassment.  

And by Izuku, no less. A kid who would’ve never had the guts to do that under normal circumstances.  

“Hehe,” he giggles, appearing somewhat delirious. “I kissed [Name]… on the lips. Wow. Was I your first kiss? I sure... hope so.”  

He goes limp in your arms right after that.  

[𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧! 𝐀𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.]

Your body is briefly enveloped by a strange, pulsing light, and you swear that something inside you just changed. It's such a subtle change that it's probably almost negligible, but you know you aren't imagining it.  

Also, Izuku has definitely fainted. You are now responsible for having made two of your friends pass out.  

You shoulder the weight of his body as best you can, then let out a heavy sigh. “I need to get him back home as soon as possible."

Your Quirk is kind of like a game. Based on what you know about it so far, at least. If you keep on completing the missions the system gives you, then you will be rewarded by having your strength increase. It's like gaining experience points and leveling up. That's the best analogy you can think of. 

You don't like making people faint, though. After charming both Katsuki and Izuku, it's clear that the effects of your powers are perhaps too strong. You really hope there's a way to control it better. Maybe you're simply too inexperienced?  

“Hey, system,” you call out. “I’m still kind of confused about this whole thing. Can you please explain it better? I don’t want to make my friends keep fainting.”

You don't receive a response, so you figure it isn't an entity you can actually communicate with. It doesn't appear sentient, at the very least. It's most likely just there to give you missions and track your progress.  

Well, that sucks. 

You still want answers. Then again, nobody ever said that mastering a Quirk would be easy, and you’ve only just gotten yours. You suppose you'll just have to be patient.  

Out of the little friend group consisting of you, Katsuki, and Izuku, you are the first to have your Quirk manifest. 

After that, it's Katsuki.  

Since he has such a strong personality, it isn't at all a surprise that his Quirk would turn out to be strong too. He has the ability to create literal explosions from the palms of his hands. It's honestly incredible, and everyone in the neighborhood—as well as the other kids in the local preschool you attend—can't help but be in awe.  

Once Katsuki’s Quirk manifests, his personality starts to change, and not for the better.  

Eager to show off his strength, he starts getting in fights with all sorts of people. Most of them are other kids his age, but he even picks a few fights with those that are several years older than him. And he never, never loses.  

“Wow, Katsuki!” you gush. “You’re so amazing! I can’t believe you beat those guys up even though they were so much bigger than you!”  

Since you're young and stupid, you don't realize that in praising Katsuki for his acts of violence, you are actually part of the problem.

Katsuki sniffles, wiping away his tears before they fall. He got quite a beating during the fight, but in spite of that, he still held out until he won. “Obviously,” he huffs. “I’m not going to let anyone talk smack about me. It doesn’t matter how much bigger or older they are.”  

You haven't received any more missions since the day you charmed Izuku, but by now everyone knows that you at least have some sort of Quirk. Katsuki was skeptical at first, but even the doctor was able to confirm that your Quirk factor—which is what allows your powers to function—is located in your brain. So long as your brain keeps working, you have the means to interact with the system and use your abilities.  

The same can't be said about Izuku, though.  

He keeps waiting for his Quirk to appear. He waits and waits, and yet it still shows no sign of manifesting. All Quirks are supposed to manifest by the age of four, with no exceptions. You do everything you can to reassure Izuku that it's going to be okay, but no one seems to understand why he hasn't gotten his Quirk yet.  

Somewhere along the way, Izuku is labeled as Quirkless, and with his newfound cruelty, Katsuki makes sure to torment Izuku at nearly every turn. 

“From now on, we’re going to call Izuku Deku,” Katsuki chuckles. “Deku means someone who’s a good-for-nothing loser. It’s perfect for him, since he’s a Quirkless weakling.”  

You frown. “That’s not nice, Katsuki. Take that back. There’s still some time left. Izuku will get his Quirk soon, you’ll see.”  

“You need to stop defending him, [Name].” Katsuki sighs out in annoyance. “Can’t you see just how lame he is? It actually makes a lot of sense that he doesn’t have a Quirk. I always thought that he was weak. This is just how the world works. Right, guys? Don’t you also think Deku’s a loser?”  

The two other neighborhood kids that often follow Katsuki around, and who have since become his underlings, hastily nod in agreement.

“Deku’s a great name for him.”  

“It’s what he gets for being Quirkless.”  

Poor Izuku is already in tears, and you can't help but ball up your little fists in frustration.  

You like Katsuki. You really do. But lately he’s started acting like a real asshole, and you're honestly getting sick of it.  

“His name is Izuku,” you insist. “Don’t give him a rude nickname to try and make fun of him. Doing that is what’s actually lame.”

“[N-Name],” Izuku whimpers, wiping away at his misty eyes. “Thank you...”  

Even though you are friends with both Izuku and Katsuki, you know well enough to understand when something is just plain wrong. Katsuki is bullying Izuku, and it needs to stop.  

In picking sides, though, you actually end up making Katsuki even angrier.  

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes,” he spits, then uses an explosion to swat Izuku right across the face. His explosions aren't incredibly strong—not yet, at least, since he's still just a child. But they deal enough damage to hurt plenty, and Izuku’s little whimpers soon turn into full-blown sobs. 

Alright. You’ve officially had enough.  

“Come here,” you grit out. You grab Katsuki by the arm and pull him in, then roughly kiss him on the cheek. His immediate instinct is to freak out, of course, but he's mainly embarrassed, not angry.  

[𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

It doesn't take him long to quiet down after that. While you don't like making people faint and overall feel unwell, desperate times call for desperate measures. It's better than letting him keep harassing and beating up Izuku, in any case. You are choosing to incapacitate one of your friends in order to protect the other one.  

“Not this shit again,” Katsuki mumbles in a daze. He seems to fend off the effects of your Quirk a lot better this time. Perhaps you're starting to get used to controlling its output? But regardless, he still ends up collapsing eventually. You’ve effectively put him to sleep. Hopefully a nap will help him clear his head a bit.  

“Aw, man!” one of the other guys whines. “[Name] just used her Quirk on him. That’s cheating! You can’t just go around doing that!"  

“Nuh-uh,” you deny. “Katsuki used his Quirk to hit Izuku first. He started it. Carry him back home, please. He needs to be put into bed.” 

They make sure to grumble the whole time, but still bring Katsuki back to his parents.  

Now, it's just you and Izuku.  

“Are you okay?” you ask, worry lacing your expression. “I’m sure it probably really hurts to get hit by one of his explosions. I promise it’ll be alright, Izuku. I’m here for you.”  

Izuku nods weakly. “I’m fine. Thank you for helping me. If only I wasn’t so weak... then I could help myself.”  

“You’re not weak at all. And your Quirk will show up soon! I have a good feeling about this.”  

It's pure unfounded confidence, but you're only an idealistic child, after all.  

Strangely enough, though, despite the fact that you’ve just saved him from getting beaten up, Izuku isn't all that happy. He knows you have to kiss someone first before being able to charm them, but he still can't stop replaying what he’s just seen. The way your lips pressed right against Katsuki’s cheek... it's impossible to get it out of his head.  

Izuku is too young to make sense of his emotions, but he is experiencing ugly jealousy for the very first time in his life.  

It’s okay, he thinks. I got to kiss [Name] on the lips before. Even Kacchan hasn’t done that. And she... stood up for me. Because I’m important to her.  

In that moment, even the pain of being Quirkless isn't quite as intense as the fear of losing your affection to someone else.

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💌 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[mango-bango-bby]

hi, mango how are you? although it is highly unlikely, what if todoroki used his fire quirk to injure them but he didnt mean to and they're scared of fire? hope you have a great day<33

♡ Nightmares ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, characters are aged up, injuries and burns, injury comfort, mostly fluffy comfort, Shoto has nightmares 🥺

Summary: Shoto has frequent nightmares, but tonight he accidentally hurts you in his sleep while having one of these nightmares (Yan!Todoroki x GN!reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Shoto would never hurt you, he never wanted to hurt you. You were precious to him. You deserved to be treasured. That was always his mentality when it came to you.

Shoto was subject to nightmares often, often times he would wake up and be able to calm himself down before going back to sleep. Most of them consisted of his childhood but the worst nightmares always had to do with you. His worst nightmares dealt with you falling out of love with him, or you getting hurt in some way.

You hum a bit at the movement beside you. Shoto slept with his arms around you, so it was strange that he had migrated so far away from you.

You sit up in the dark, turning to Shoto. You squint a bit, trying to adjust your eyes to the dark. You can hear Shoto muttering in his sleep, most of it is nonsense but the one thing you do hear is your name, he was having one of his nightmares again.

“Hmm, Shoto…” you mutter, softly placing your hand on his arm. “Shoto…” you mumble louder, shaking his arm a bit to hopefully wake him up. You could tell that his nightmare was escalating, his muttering was louder, he was sweating, his breath was even picking up.

“Wake up you’re dreaming” you say louder, shaking him so that he would hopefully wake up. “Sho-” you start, being cut off by a shriek. Shoto jumps up at your scream immediately turning to you, seeing tears in your eyes and you holding onto your arm with he had clearly burned in his sleep while having his nightmare.

“Darling, let me see it” Shoto says, watching you cry, trembling as you hold out your arm to him. God, he hated himself, how could he want to protect you from the world if he couldn’t protect you from himself!? Luckily it wasn’t to bad of a burn, but he could see you were shaken up.

“Fuck…” Shoto mutters, bringing his right hand up to your burn. He gently runs his hand over your skin, using his quirk to help sooth the burn. You hiss slightly at the feeling but it’s helping, the icy air feels like a cool blanket over your new burn. Shoto sighs, keeping his hand over your burn and cooling it off, you could practically see the pain in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, my love…” He whispers, looking into your eyes while still soothing your new burn. An injury that he caused, if he meant to or not.

“It’s okay, Shoto…” you whispered back, your eyes were kind and gentle despite the accidental pain he had caused you. “It was an accident” you whispered, a gentle smile on your face as you look into his teary eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, I know you wouldn’t hurt me…” you whispered, letting out a small sigh at the cold air he still puts on your burn. He looks at you, a look of adoration in his tearful eyes. He truly loved you, he would never hurt you.

“I love you so much, darling…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: I can totally see him having nightmares 😭😭 Also I’ve been working on a lot of Miguel fics lately so I hope you guys like those because I have A LOT in the drafts)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

[a-tiny-teez]

Boku no hero academia

Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugo

Shoto Todoroki

Eijiro Kirishima

Denki Kaminari

Tomura Shigaraki

Touya Todoroki

Keigo Takami

[indapaint470]

He look so handsome, (-3-)

[aajjks]

warnings: 18+ thèmès, YÁNDÈRÈ MÈN, öbsëssïön, ünhëälthy dèvôtïôn, mèntïôns ôf örál, kïssïng, mèntïôns ôf sèx, mèntïôns ôf sùïcídè.

Yandere men who are so in love with you, they are head over heels, who think that you’re a miracle, you’re the love of their life, they adore you, absolutely adore you, who adore your body with theirs. Who kiss you like you’re the air, who fuck you like they want you merge you with them. Who make love to you day and night, kissing you until their lips are swollen, fucking you until their legs give out, eating you out until their jaw breaks, who tell you how much they love you until their throat is bleeding. Who would absolutely kill themselves if you ever left them.

“Oh my yn… you are a miracle- you can’t be real- please please let me fuck you- just one taste… I just can’t get enough of you- you’re like addictive- please I need you so much, don’t ever leave me I’ll die without you.”

Izuku, gojo, yuuta, Luffy, tamaki, Xiao, Geto, Shouto, Nanami.

[fangdokja]

You’re the light he vowed to keep, even if he has to snuff it out first.

❤︎ Synopsis. You’re trapped in the suffocating grip of a man who loves you just enough to destroy you—until you’re nothing but his broken, devoted possession. A love that feels more like a curse than a choice.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Pro Hero! Katsuki x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Pro Hero! Shouto x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Villain! Deku x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Dabi x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Ruined, Owned, Loved. - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 3,897

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, mature language, degradation, verbal abuse, kidnapping

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ Pro Hero! Bakugo Katsuki.

You knew better than to try running. The moment you felt his presence—a simmering furnace of fury and control—it was already too late. He didn’t announce his arrival with words; his footsteps were enough, sharp and deliberate, heavy boots hitting the floor like a countdown to something inevitable. Bakugo’s voice was never soft; it was a serrated edge, ripping through the air as if he had a right to every breath you took. And when he spoke, it wasn’t a question.

“Thought you could get away, huh?” His laugh was cruel, low, and full of condescension. “You’re dumber than I thought. But that’s fine. I like you stupid. Makes you easier to handle.”

His hands were everywhere—calloused, hot, burning like the aftermath of an explosion. You hated how they felt on your skin, hated the way your body betrayed you, trembling when he pressed you against the cold, unyielding surface of the wall. He’d whisper things in your ear, not because he cared, but because he wanted to hear you choke on your protests. He fed on resistance. It made him more determined, more ruthless, as if he needed to prove a point.

“You think anyone else could handle you? Take care of you? Fucking useless brat. I’m the only one who knows what you need.”

There was no romance in his touch, only dominance, a need to mark, to conquer. His lips were blistering against your neck, leaving bruises that would bloom dark and ugly—a reminder of his claim. He reveled in the small, broken noises you made, each gasp a sign of his victory. To Bakugo, love wasn’t soft. It was brutal, raw, and destructive. And you were the perfect canvas for his fire.

———

Bakugo Katsuki was never the kind of man to hold back. Even now, with the faint scent of charred air clinging to him and his gaze sharp enough to carve through steel, restraint was a foreign concept. He didn’t need to be gentle, didn’t care for the nuances of tenderness or quiet affection. His love was a volatile thing, violent and consuming, a wildfire that left nothing untouched. And you, unfortunate as you were, had become the fuel to his blaze.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was a low growl, the kind that sent shivers down your spine for all the wrong reasons. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, each word deliberate, dripping with venomous intent. “You’re mine. Every single part of you. That fucked-up little brain, those stupid tears, even the way you fucking breathe—you don’t get to decide any of it anymore. I do.”

His hands were unforgiving, each touch an assertion of control, as though he was daring your body to defy him. He wasn’t satisfied with merely holding you. He needed to own you, to etch himself into your very marrow, to ensure that every fleeting thought you had began and ended with him. Calloused fingers dug into your flesh, searing heat radiating off his palms like the embers of a smoldering fire. His grip wasn’t just tight—it was possessive, like he was claiming his place under your skin, branding you without the need for flames.

“You’re so fucking fragile,” he sneered, his lips curling into a smirk that held no kindness. “Can’t even put up a proper fight. What would you even do without me? Huh?”

There was something almost mocking in the way he spoke, but beneath it lay a darker truth: Bakugo didn’t just want you compliant—he wanted you broken, a hollowed-out shell with only his name to fill the emptiness. He thrived on the power he held over you, the way your trembling body responded to him no matter how much your mind screamed otherwise.

His kisses weren’t tender. They were bruising, feral, the kind that left you breathless for all the wrong reasons. Teeth scraped against your skin, leaving faint indentations that would fade just enough for him to replace them. His mouth trailed lower, each bite deliberate, as though he were carving himself into you with the edge of his teeth.

“Don’t bother crying,” he hissed, his voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Won’t do you any good. Just makes me want to ruin you more.”

There was no hesitation in his movements, no room for uncertainty. Bakugo wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself, especially not when it came to you. Every touch, every whispered insult, every moment was carefully calculated, designed to tear you apart and rebuild you in his image. To him, love was destruction, and the thought of anyone else laying claim to you was enough to send his temper spiraling out of control.

“If anyone even looks at you wrong, I’ll blow them to pieces,” he said, his tone deadly serious. “And you’ll watch. You’ll see exactly what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine.”

The threat wasn’t empty. You knew Bakugo meant every word, his rage barely contained, simmering beneath the surface like magma waiting to erupt. And yet, there was something disturbingly intimate in the way he held you, his grip firm but steady, as though he believed he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he muttered, his voice softer now but no less menacing. “You’ll see that I’m the only one who gives a damn about you. The only one who’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

His idea of safety was suffocating, a cage made of fire and ash, but there was no escaping it. Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t a man who let go—not when he’d already decided that you were his, body and soul. And he’d make sure you understood that, even if it meant breaking you into pieces and putting you back together again, over and over, until the only thing you recognized was him.

────────────

♡ Pro Hero! Todoroki Shouto.

Shouto was a contradiction: ice and fire, tenderness and cruelty. When he stared at you, it wasn’t with love but with obsession, the kind that stripped you bare and left you exposed under his cold, calculating gaze. He was too quiet, his presence unnerving, his dual-colored eyes a predator’s trap. There was something unnervingly patient about him, as though he had all the time in the world to break you.

“You look so scared,” he murmured, voice soft enough to make your blood run cold. “But you don’t have to be. I’ll take care of you.”

His fingers were gloved, precise, as if he didn’t want to dirty himself with you. But when he touched you, it was deliberate, calculated, his hands mapping every inch of your body with clinical detachment. It wasn’t passion that drove him—it was control, the need to see you submit, to strip you of your autonomy until you were nothing but a doll for him to play with.

“You’re mine,” he said, his tone flat, matter-of-fact. “You’ll understand that soon enough.”

Shouto’s cruelty was subtle, wrapped in a veneer of kindness that made you second-guess your fear. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, a monster waiting to strike. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to suffocate you. When he leaned in, his breath cold against your skin, you knew there was no escape.

———

Shouto Todoroki was meticulous in everything he did, and when it came to you, that precision was unnervingly intimate. He didn’t rush, didn’t let his emotions spill out in reckless waves like others might. No, Shouto was a slow, deliberate storm, his control more terrifying than any outburst could ever be. He didn’t need to shout or rage; his silence was its own weapon, slicing through you with a cold, surgical exactness that left no room for resistance.

“Do you hate me?” he asked once, his voice a quiet hum of curiosity. His mismatched eyes searched yours, not for an answer, but for the flicker of defiance he knew wouldn’t last. “It doesn’t matter. Hate me if you like. It changes nothing.”

His touch was clinical at first, his gloved fingers tracing your skin as though he were studying the way you flinched beneath him. It wasn’t lust that drove him, nor even anger—it was obsession, a need so deeply rooted it had consumed every rational part of him. Shouto didn’t see you as a person anymore, not entirely. You were a puzzle, a possession, something delicate and fragile that belonged to him alone.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the steel underneath. “Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

There was a chilling detachment in the way he said it, as though your autonomy was a trivial obstacle he’d long since dismissed. Shouto wasn’t cruel for the sake of it; every act, every word, was deliberate, calculated to strip you of your defenses. He wanted you pliant, dependent, so deeply intertwined with him that the thought of leaving felt like an impossibility.

When he kissed you, it was neither tender nor rushed. His lips were cold, an eerie contrast to the heat that followed, a slow burn that made your skin prickle and your heart race. He took his time, savoring the way you trembled under his touch, the way your breath hitched when his hand slid to the nape of your neck. Shouto didn’t rush his conquest. He was patient, methodical, the predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.

“You’re so warm,” he said, almost to himself, as his fingers traced idle patterns across your skin. “It’s comforting. I think I’d destroy anyone who tried to take this from me.”

His dual nature made him unpredictable, a constant tightrope between icy detachment and blistering intensity. There were moments when he’d cradle your face in his hands, his expression almost tender, as though he were something close to human. But even then, his words betrayed him.

“You can cry if you want,” he said, his tone soft, almost gentle. “I don’t mind. It only makes you prettier.”

He didn’t see your fear as an obstacle—it was part of the process, a necessary step in molding you into what he wanted. Your tears were proof of his power, a testament to the control he wielded with such terrifying ease. And when his hands roamed, when his lips found the sensitive curve of your neck, there was no escaping the suffocating weight of his presence.

Shouto’s love wasn’t fiery or wild; it was smothering, a glacier slowly encasing you until you couldn’t breathe without him. His cruelty was subtle, woven into the fabric of his obsession, a constant reminder that you were his and his alone.

“You’ll see,” he whispered, his breath a cold ghost against your ear. “This is what’s best for you. You’ll understand eventually. You’ll thank me.”

He didn’t rush to break you; he savored it, each crack in your defenses another victory in his quiet, relentless campaign. To Shouto, love was control, possession, and the quiet certainty that you would never, ever belong to anyone else.

And he would make sure of that, no matter what it took.

────────────

♡ Villain! Midoriya Izuku (Deku).

There was nothing left of the boy you once knew. His smile, once kind and genuine, was now twisted, a mockery of the hero he pretended to be. Midoriya was no longer a savior—he was a predator, and you were his prey. He didn’t hide his intentions, didn’t bother with pretenses.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice dripping with adoration that felt more like a curse. “I’ve been watching you for so long. You have no idea how much I’ve done for you, how many people I’ve destroyed just to keep you safe.”

His hands were trembling, not with nerves but with excitement, the kind that came from finally obtaining something he’d coveted for so long. When he touched you, it was with reverence, as if you were a sacred object meant only for him. But there was nothing holy about the way he looked at you, his green eyes dark with hunger, his grin wide and unsettling.

“You’re scared,” he noted, almost amused. “That’s okay. You’ll learn to love me. You don’t have a choice.”

His kisses were rough, desperate, as if he needed to consume you, to devour every piece of you until there was nothing left. He didn’t care if you cried, didn’t care if you begged. In fact, he liked it. Your tears were proof of his power, of the hold he had over you.

———

Midoriya Izuku had always been obsessive, but the way his fixation on you consumed him was nothing short of monstrous. He no longer sought to save the world; no, his only goal was to possess you entirely, to twist you into something that could never leave him. And he’d succeeded, hadn’t he? You were here, trapped under the weight of his adoration, his hands gripping you with a strength that bordered on desperation.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” His voice was breathless, his green eyes wide and wild as they roved over you. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You were always meant to be mine. Every step I’ve taken, every choice I’ve made—it was all for you.”

There was something unhinged in his tone, a mixture of awe and madness that made your stomach churn. He didn’t see you as a person anymore. You were his salvation, his obsession, the only thing that mattered in his twisted, crumbling world. And he would do anything to keep you by his side.

“I’m not a bad person,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Everything I’ve done—it was for us. They tried to take you from me, tried to ruin what we have, but I stopped them. I’ll always stop them.”

His hands were steady now, his grip firm as he held you in place. There was no escape, no room for resistance. Izuku didn’t need chains to bind you; his sheer presence was enough to suffocate you, to remind you that you were entirely at his mercy.

“You think I don’t notice?” he asked, his grin widening as his gaze bore into yours. “The way you look at me, the way your body reacts even when you’re scared. It’s okay to feel that way. I want you to feel that way. I want every part of you—your fear, your tears, your love. It’s all mine.”

When he kissed you, it wasn’t tender. It was bruising, all-consuming, a chaotic clash of teeth and tongues that left you gasping for air. His hands wandered, exploring with a fervor that bordered on worship. He treated your body like a shrine, something to be revered and defiled in equal measure.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his voice soft but laced with dark amusement. “Don’t worry, it’s normal. You’re overwhelmed, but that’s how it should be. I want to overwhelm you. I want to be the only thing you think about, the only thing you need.”

Izuku’s affection was a double-edged sword, as sharp as it was suffocating. He spoke to you as if he were a hero, as if he truly believed that his actions were justified, that his love for you made the horrors he committed excusable. But his gaze, dark and hungry, betrayed the truth. He wasn’t protecting you—he was consuming you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the person you once were.

“Every scar, every bruise—it’s proof that you’re mine,” he said, his fingers tracing the marks he’d left behind. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Wear them with pride. They mean I love you.”

There was no arguing with him, no reasoning with the man who had long since abandoned morality in favor of his obsession. Izuku didn’t see his actions as cruel; he saw them as necessary. To him, you were the center of the universe, and he would destroy anyone who dared to challenge his claim on you.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I hate seeing you upset. But if it’s for me, then… maybe it’s okay. Just this once.”

His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was no comfort in it. It was the smile of a man who had nothing left to lose, a man who had decided that you were his salvation and his damnation all at once. And no matter how much you struggled, no matter how much you begged, Izuku wouldn’t let you go. He couldn’t.

“You’re mine,” he said again, his voice steady, unwavering. “You’ve always been mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

To him, love wasn’t about freedom or choice. It was possession, control, the unrelenting certainty that you would never belong to anyone else. And as his hands tightened around you, his lips ghosting over your skin, you realized that there was no escape from the man who had turned his obsession into a twisted form of devotion.

────────────

♡ Dabi (Todoroki Touya).

Dabi was a shadow, a ghost who lingered just out of reach until it was too late. His presence was suffocating, a combination of smoke and ash that clung to your skin like a brand. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“You didn’t think you could actually hide from me, girl?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a dark amusement that made your stomach turn. “I’m not some fool who’s gonna let you slip through my fingers.”

His touch was rough, his hands scarred and burned, but he didn’t care if it hurt. In fact, he liked it, liked the way you flinched under his grip, the way your breath hitched when he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You look so pretty when you’re scared,” he murmured, his tone almost tender. “Makes me wanna ravage you even more.”

Dabi wasn’t gentle. He didn’t know how to be. His kisses were bruising, his teeth sharp against your skin, leaving marks that would take weeks to fade. He was possessive, his grip unyielding as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a flicker of something broken and desperate that only made him more dangerous.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady, final. “And I don’t share.”

For Dabi, love was destruction.

And you were his favorite thing to destroy.

———

Dabi’s love was a slow burn, a smoldering fire that crept closer with every passing moment, until it devoured you whole. He didn’t rush, didn’t bother with theatrics. When he claimed you, it was with the inevitability of something that had been decided long before you had a chance to resist.

“You didn’t stand a chance,” he said, his voice a husky drawl that carried the weight of certainty. His blue eyes, bright and unrelenting, bore into yours with a heat that scorched you from the inside out. “You’ve always been mine since the moment I saw you. You just didn’t know it yet.”

His touch was calloused, rough from years of self-destruction, and when his hands gripped your wrists, the heat of his skin was a cruel reminder of his power. Dabi didn’t just want you—he wanted to consume you, to make you feel every ounce of his presence until you couldn’t think of anything else. His fingers left marks wherever they roamed, bruises that burned as if his flames had kissed you directly.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck as his rough lips ghosted over your skin. “That’s me. Burning into you. Marking you. You’ll never get rid of it. Never get rid of me.”

There was a possessiveness in his every movement, a desperate hunger that bordered on madness. He didn’t want your love—he demanded it, took it without permission, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. His kisses were rough, searing, his teeth dragging against your lips as if he wanted to taste the fear that lingered there.

“I could burn this whole fucking world down,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, his grip tightening as his flames flickered to life. “But you? You’re the only thing I’d keep. The only thing worth saving.”

But his version of saving was suffocating, a cage built of fire and smoke that left no escape. Dabi wasn’t gentle, wasn’t kind. His love was destruction, raw and unfiltered, the kind that left you trembling beneath the weight of it. He didn’t care if you cried, if you begged for release. In fact, he thrived on it, the broken sound of your voice feeding the darkness that consumed him.

“Don’t cry, doll,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The heat of his touch lingered, a cruel reminder of the flames that simmered just beneath his skin. “You’re too pretty for that. Besides, it’s not like you can run. Where the hell would you go?

Dabi’s obsession was a monster in itself, a hungry, clawing thing that refused to let him rest. He needed you in a way that was almost pathetic, a desperate craving that he buried under layers of cruelty and bravado. But it slipped through the cracks sometimes, in the way his voice softened when he whispered your name, in the way his hands trembled just slightly when they traced the curve of your neck.

“You make me weak, you know that?” he confessed, his laugh a bitter, shattered thing as his grip on you tightened. “And I hate it. But I can’t stop. You’re in my head, under my skin. You’ve ruined me, so it’s only fair I ruin you too.”

To Dabi, love wasn’t about tenderness or trust. It was about control, possession, the unrelenting need to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. He didn’t see his actions as cruel—they were necessary, a means to an end. And if he had to break you to keep you, then so be it.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, his grin sharp and dangerous as his lips brushed against yours. “This is how it’s gonna be. You and me, forever. You don’t get a say in it. You never did.”

There was no escape from him, no reprieve from the intensity of his obsession. Dabi wasn’t just a villain—he was a force of nature, an inferno that consumed everything in its path.

And you were his favorite thing to burn.

────────────

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[fluff-n-cookies]

Endeavor is not a "good man"

-----

Dabi is Reader’s father, Reader has blue eyes like his. No use of Y/N

For those who don’t know, this post is related to these

TW: mentions of financial difficulty, POC friendly, reader is a toddler around the age of 5, references to Dabi's relationship with endeavor, FEM READER, SPOILERS!!! scroll down for authors note :p

Pt 1, Pt 2

-----

At 1 pm sharp, every weekday, school lets out in the neighborhood, children run to their parents cars, walk home, or make their way to the train to go home.

what's unfortunate however, Is that there have been certain individuals spotted around the area.

Villains, I mean.

robbers that natch mothers purses away while they aren't looking, creep old men who watch from a distance, and with the rise of the League of Villains and their speculated hideout being close by, Yokohama's public council has urged for some heroes to take up the extra patrols available in such a... crime infested area. yes.

Endeavor's PR team eventually got wind of this and...

The bell rang, children burst through the doors eager to go home for the weekend, so joyous. only to find something even better, a hero, the new number 1 hero, Endeavor.

Swarmed, that what he was, swarmed and annoyed. but this is what's good for his reputation, good for the community, good for him to stay cool and chill as the youngsters say.

unbeknownst to him however, a harmless little thing lurks around the school building, hidden in shadows like her dad does whenever they go out into town together. She stares like a hawk. at least that's what she tries to look like anyway.

she ends up looking like a tiny wee kitten about to pounce on its mother's tail. how darling.

Dad doesn't like heroes.

she thinks to herself, clutching her new bag tightly, she got it just last week since school just started. It's pretty worn down, they had gotten it from the thrift, but it's also all they could afford at the moment.

especially that one...

she stood there for a moment. hidden in the shade of the ginkgo trees, she shook her head, and made it past the crowd of rowdy classmates, with flame hero endeavor at its center.

she was five now, that meant she would be just fine on the streets of Yokohama. Dad didn't need to take her on the bus and walk her to school and go back on the bus all over again. she could walk on her own to the bus stop, get on the bus, and then dad would walk her back to their apartment. easy. really easy.

at least it may have been if a hero wasn't following her. this one could burn her to a crisp, she'd be all crunchy like the toast and strawberry jam she'd had this morning.

Well, to be fair, from endeavor's perspective, all she saw was a little girl walking down the same route that he was meant to take for his patrol. simple. May as well make sure that she's okay and gets home safely, especially since she doesn't have her mom with her or anything.

she is a small little thing really. Shoto used to be like that, cute and stubby. Rei would dress him up in cute clothes whenever they would go out.

the girl keeps walking, walk, walk, walk, well, more of a slight toddle. occasionally saying "hi" to class mates as they go to their respective apartments and houses and to the strays that wander the alley ways.

where is this girl's house?

more importantly perhaps, where is her guardian?

he should probably introduce himself to her.

-----

Tags ; @red4-0 @likethegardenyk @suktoru @blurryperrtymoonlight @harkenizalone @lostiolite @rllytriedrn @mellyxqz @cupkiki @xxnessinessiellexx @dehlieee @mossysoup @ijwsbdinp @byul9158 @suksatoru @ssetsuka @savatar-de-mordor @justanotherweeb666 @frog-fans-unite

Ermmmm,I meant to write more, but like, I'm kinda tired, lil' something for you guys to munch on. and likeeee uhhh ssnsadns sand. yes sand. I'llfinsih this part laterrrr

[wttcsms]

we play our fantasies out in real life ways ; shouto todoroki.

pairing shouto todoroki x f!reader  word count 2.7k  synopsis knocking up his sugar baby seems (and feels) like a dream come true for the future ceo and youngest son of japan’s richest conglomerate family. content contains sugar daddy!shouto, yandere themes, car sex, creampie, breeding kink, quirkless au, ceo!shouto, tiny daddy kink author’s notes this is a repost of an old fic but pls tell me we are still horny 4 shouto. also ignore the Tesla promo, i was feeling silly when i wrote this </3

He can have anything he wants, you know.

And of course you know this. Of course you do. It’s hard to ignore this fact whenever he’s the exact reason your closet is overflowing with more dresses than you know what to do with; why your dresser can barely stay shut due to the amount of lacy lingerie you’ve had to shove in them; why you’re a third year college student driving to campus with a brand new Mercedes that technically isn’t even supposed to be out on the market ‘til next month. 

He can have anything he wants, and because you’re his, by extension, you have the power to make all your material wishes come true, too. All you have to do is ask him.

All you have to do is look up at him and give him those puppy dog eyes of yours and say, “please, daddy, can I cum?” and he’ll let you. You know he will, because stoic Shouto Todoroki, the future CEO and prized son of the Todoroki clan that happens to be one of the most famous conglomerate families in all of Japan, just can’t seem to say no to you. He signs off multi-billion yen deals as easily as one blinks and running multiple companies is just something he’s been born to do. It’s no easy feat to give commands to such a powerful man. 

And yet, one look and a tiny whimper is all it takes to turn him into putty in your hands. 

It’s always an out of body experience when you’re with Shouto. Being with him is like constantly being the main character of a movie. He rents out entire restaurants so the two of you can dine away from prying eyes. He sends you good morning and good night texts every single day. (One time you joked about him forcing his assistant to do it because there’s no way a busy man like him would ever have time to do something so insignificant; he didn’t like that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the concept of you being someone very important to him.) Shouto is incredibly good to you, incredibly good for you.

He’s incredibly good with a lot of things. Taking care of you, for one. Taking care of all his businesses, for another. And right now, he’s taking real good care of your cunt when he’s got three of his fingers knuckles deep in you. 

The windows to his sleek, outrageously priced car are tinted so dark, even you struggle to see through the windshield. You always tell him it’s dangerous, but he reminds you that there are always reasons for the things he does. You wonder if getting tinted windows so he could fuck his college student sugar baby with some semblance of privacy is the reason. 

And then all thinking on your end comes to a stop when he nips at the skin of your neck, biting down softly and getting you to let out a tiny whimper. It doesn’t hurt. You don’t think Shouto is even capable of hurting you; not because you’re some unbreakable being, but because you don’t think the calloused hands that have caressed every centimeter of your body is capable of harming you. 

The two of you are currently parked in the lot right outside the building where his main office is located. In about ten minutes, the parking lot will be flooded with employees who have just clocked out and are getting ready to speed home. In about ten minutes, anyone could accidentally (or purposely) become a little voyeur to the activities going down in the future CEO’s luxury car. 

Your back is pressed against his chest. More often than not, you find yourself naked while he’s practically still dressed, and it’s the same thing that’s happening right now. The buttons on his shirt are digging into your back, but you can’t find it in you to complain. Instead, you focus on gripping the wrist of the hand that’s in between your thighs. The sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled up, and if you take your tiny fingers just a bit higher, you can feel the veins running down his arm. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” The baritone of his voice is smooth, calm, collected — in control. Because you can make any request in the world, and Shouto will fulfill it for you, but that does not mean that you are the one who makes the final decisions. At the end of the day, everything you have, everything that is given to you, is because of him, because of the decisions he makes for you.

His eagerness to gift you the world thinly veils the true depth of your submission to him. A subconscious part of you is well aware of the power imbalance in this relationship, but if all has been well these past two years, then surely it’ll only be smooth sailing from here?

You lean back, leaning into his warmth, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his spicy cologne that costs more than your textbooks (that he bought for you). 

“D-daddy.” You moan out, trying to coax him deeper in your tight little cunt, as if his fingers aren’t already as deep as they can go, spreading out your hole to prep you for what he knows you truly crave. 

“You’ve got to speak up, love. I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what to give you.” His breath is warm against your ear, and it’s so hot in the car. So, so hot. You wonder if it’s just you feeling the heat, though. Shouto seems as collected as ever, not the least bit uncomfortable at all. 

“Mmm — w-want you.” You wriggle a bit in his lap, but his free hand grips your side and squeezes you with a firm, nonverbal command to stop moving. You do, immediately. Because that’s what you always do: follow his command. 

“I know you do.” He coos, finally moving his fingers. It’s agonizingly slow, too slow. The car is silent save for your little pants and the obscene wet sounds that come as a result of his fingers thrusting in your wet cunt. 

“Faster, daddy.” You whine out, looking up at him. The sun is setting, and despite the tint of the windows, the orange glow from the sun still shines against his smooth skin, casting his face into something that’s half sunset/half shadow. It’s a good look; a sharp contrast that matches his hair. Seeing your blatant admiration of him only spurs him to give in and go faster. He had planned on drawing this out for as long as he possibly could. He had originally wanted to coax you into as many orgasms ‘til you were nothing but a fucked out little mess, too worn out to pay attention or even care when he finishes your little session with you plugged up with his cum. 

The lives of children born into the Todoroki family are more cursed than it is blessed, and Shouto had, a very long time ago, made a vow that he would never continue the bloodline. He would have no children, which would be easy because he planned on never having a lover.

And then he met you, started providing for you, realized how much he enjoyed providing, and realized even more that the only way to strengthen this transactional relationship is by forcing your hand. He likes to think that you would stay with him willingly, but there are some chances that he’s just not willing to take; there are some extremes that he’s all too entirely happy to go far to, though. 

Your sweet moans mix in well with the lewd sounds of your pussy getting thoroughly fingerfucked. His fingers are so much longer than yours, can reach spots inside of you that you can’t quite reach yourself. He’s efficient with anything and everything he does, and you’re not surprised when he doesn’t slow his pace. The consistent strokes of his fingers, your lowered inhibitions when around Shouto, and the look on his face (equal parts concentration and adoration) all help in making you cum all over his hand. 

“Good girl.” Shouto whispers, removing his fingers and holding his hand up. The sunlight beaming through makes his digits glisten even more, and you’re enraptured as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck your essence off of them. Piercing heterochromatic eyes never leave yours as he sucks on them, and you have to turn away from embarrassment. How can he keep such a straight face when literally licking your cum off his fingers? 

“Don’t turn away from me.” His hand — still wet — grips your chin and forces you to look at him again. “I don’t like it when you shy away from me.” 

You nod meekly, and Shouto sighs. 

“You shouldn’t be shy around me. I don’t like making you feel uncomfortable, you know that, don’t you?” 

You nod again, a subtle, barely there move. He’s not impressed. 

“Answer me properly.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, and you sit up a little straighter. Shouto would never lay a hand on you with the intent to physically harm you, but he’s not above roughing you up during sex. You’ve heard him get this way before, and the imprint of his fingertips and the purple hickeys littering your poor body took three days to fade properly. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say with a pout, trying to conjure up any sort of leniency he can spare. Judging by his facial expression and the wavering look in his eyes, he’s already softening up. You just have to make it up to him now to have his complete forgiveness.

Maneuvering in the limited space the driver’s seat gives is no easy task, but you manage to shift positions to where you’re straddling his lap, finally facing him properly. He’s leaned back, watching you with a hungry glint in his eyes that makes you feel like the most wanted girl in all of Japan. A surge of heat flows through your body, from the tips of your ears to your cheeks and all the way down to between your thighs. If you were in a different position, you could clench them together, try to rub your thighs in an attempt to ease the need for friction. 

Your fingers make quick work of his belt and his zipper, pulling down on both the waistband of his slacks and his briefs to finally free his cock. He’s already hard, and you admire the way your hand can’t even wrap fully around him. The tip is flushed red, pearly beads of precum already present. 

This is the part where you look up at him, almost as if you’re unsure about what to do. You don’t know what it does to him, to see you sitting on his lap with his cock looking outrageously large in your tiny hands. He can see your pretty pussy practically dripping all over his slacks. Now’s not the time for you to be playing the role of an innocent, unsure little girl, but then it hits him: you’re asking him for permission. He almost lets out a bark of laughter. 

“You’ve already taken it upon yourself to tear into my pants and make a grab for my cock. Surely you don’t expect me to beg to fuck your little hole now, do you?” He has a cold smile on his face as he brings you closer to him. “I thought this was my apology. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me do all the work?”

“O-of course not!” You look startled at the suggestion, eyes going big and round. He looks at you expectantly, as if telling you to do something. 

It always burns when you first take him. It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cums, doesn’t matter how long he spends stretching you out on his fingers. By now, your pussy should have memorized the feel of his dick, should have been moulded to fit him and only him. And while there’s a tiny flash of pain and discomfort for you (which Shouto hates), it’s hard not to be in love with the feel of just how tight you are. 

The stinging pain is brief, though, and is easily replaced by one of satisfaction from being stuffed by the prettiest, fattest cock you’ve ever taken in your life. 

You moan, rocking your hips back and forth. Maybe this was originally supposed to be an apology to him, but it feels more like you’re using him as your own personal toy, and Shouto really couldn’t care less. After all, if it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, baby? What would happen if I never met you, hmm? Are you willing to spread those pretty legs of yours for any man?” He says the last sentence with a tone sharper than usual. You shake your head as you continue to rut against him, chasing after your own high because you might not be a simpleminded slut for anyone, but you are nothing more than a cockslut when it comes to Shouto. 

“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck!” You moan out, falling against his chest, burying your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. “D-daddy, fuck!”

He holds you close to him as you cum, not even minding the mess you’ve made of his work pants. “Daddy’s got you.” He coos, his hand finding the back of your neck and squeezing you there, gently. “You must be tired now…”

You’re still too fucked out to really comprehend what’s exactly going on ‘til it’s happening, but even with your slow reaction times, you still manage to let out a slutty moan as you feel Shouto thrusting up into you. It must be uncomfortable, you think. This position doesn’t make it exactly easy for him to chase after his own pleasure, but then you remember that Shouto Todoroki doesn’t back down or break down when it comes to challenges.

He perseveres. 

You’re like a rag doll, like a personal little fucktoy, made for him to use (and maybe even break) as he pleases. Every thrust is sharp and intense, and his teeth are clenched as he continues to use you, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls and admiring the ring of white that coats and clings to his dick every time he pulls out. 

It doesn’t take him much longer to finally finish; he grabs you by your hips, raising you slightly before abruptly pushing you down on his cock, making sure that he’s nestled as deeply in you as he can be when he finally cums. He’s breathing a bit harder as he comes down, and then he’s grabbing you by your hair, making you stare at him. 

His cheeks are flushed, there’s some slight sweat building up on his forehead, his shirt is wrinkled. He’s never looked better. You’ve never felt better. 

Or, more accurately, never felt fuller. 

“Shouto, did you c…” You can’t even finish the sentence. Did you cum inside? Not like you have to; you know the answer. Some of it is dripping out of you. 

All he does is give you that small smile, the one that he rarely lets anyone see, and starts up the car. 

If he doesn’t want to talk now, there’s no way you can get him to answer properly. You try to remove yourself from his lap and make your ungraceful, disgusting journey to the passenger seat, but Shouto places a firm hand on your waist, forcing you back down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shouto, you can’t possibly drive while I’m sitting here on your lap.”

“I bought a Tesla for a reason.” 

Right. Because everything Shouto does has a reason for it.

You think about this on the drive back to his penthouse, a little bit of fear building up in your lower belly. Shouto does everything for a reason, and what’s the reason for any man cumming inside?

[eu0n1a]

I don't think y'all understand.

I feel like if you were a pro hero's wife or gf, to the media, you really don't have an identity outside of that. Like its just a screaming reminder that you are theirs.

"Mrs. Bakugou" "Mrs. Todoroki " "Mrs. Midoriya"

Eventually, you might as well forget you even have a real name. Real identity. You're just his.

[yanderenightmare]

TODOROKI SHOTO MASTERLIST

Ranging from my top Shoto post to posts with notes above 1k.

Darling uses sex to calm down yandere captor ! Todoroki:

DARLING INITIATING SEX ♡4k

Cock descriptions:

COCK ♡3k

What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:

SCARY YANDERE ♡3k

Boyfriend ! Todoroki headcanons:

BOYFRIEND ! SHOTO ♡2k

Poly ! BakuDekuTodo x darling thirsts:

BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡2k

BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡1k

POLY ♡1k

Prince ! Todoroki x maid ! dalring:

PRINCE x MAID ♡2k

Imagines of what happens when the darling tries to deny the BNHA ! yanderes intimacy and sex:

TODOROKI ♡2k

Shoto ! nii-san and his little sister needs to share the bed:

KINSHIP ♡2k

Yandere captor ! Todoroki reacting to pregnant darling:

PREGNANT DARLINGS ♡2k

Todoroki and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:

ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS ♡1k

Yandere captor ! Todoroki with a darling who enjoys being his darling:

DARLING ENJOYS BEING A DARLING ♡1k

Yandere captor ! Todoroki x darling with early Stockholm syndrome:

EARLY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME ♡1k

Shoto ! nii-san sneaking into his little sisters bedroom at night:

BABY ♡1k

Yandere captor ! Todoroki's need for intimacy:

INTIMATE ACTIVITIES ♡1k

Yandere captor ! Todoroki x clumsy ! darling:

CLUMSY DARLING ♡1k

How yandere captor ! Todoroki punishes his darling:

PUNISHMENTS ♡1k

Yandere captor Shoto with a depressive darling:

SELF-CONSCIOUS ♡1k

Yandere captor Shoto likes painting with his darling:

HOBBIES ♡1k

Yandere captor Shoto's sleeping habits:

SLEEPING HABITS ♡1k

Shoto bullies his crush:

PRINCESS ♡1k

BNHA genderbender:

FEM ♡1k

How Todoroki became yandere for his darling:

YANDERE BEGINNINGS ♡1k

The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:

FAMILY FUN ♡1k

What type of hybrid he is:

HYBRID ♡1k

Bestfriend Shoto drugs you at a party:

TRUST ♡1k

Yandere Shoto develops a fascination for ballerina reader:

DANCE

Similar posts can be found in the following:

INSERT MASTERLIST

[ttodorokiii]

"shouto cries when jealous, hurts himself" ooo can we have a oneshot of this 😳 reader is really naive + sweet and will do literally anything to make him feel better

warnings: yándèrè, sèlf h-rm, mánípúlátíòn.

•••

Shouto watches from the corner of the room, his eyes flickering between you and the person you’re talking to. The conversation is light, your laughter soft and sweet, but it eats at him.

A sharp jealousy tugs at his heart strings and he feels like his head will burst. He feels like he wants to kill that person you are talking to.

His heart pounds, and the feelings overwhelm him. His hands tremble, fists clenching at his sides. It’s too much—too much to watch.

He can’t bear the sight of you looking at someone else, of you laughing with them. His breath hitches as he stands up, his body stiffening as he turns toward the door.

“Shouto?” you ask, your voice sweet but full of concern as you notice him moving away.

But it’s too late.

The tears are already welling in his eyes, burning in the corners of his vision. He doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to show you how weak he is. But he can’t hold it back. His chest aches with a fierce, possessive pain, and the emotions burst out in shaky sobs.

“Shouto…” You approach him carefully, not understanding what’s happening but instinctively knowing he’s in pain. You reach out for him, but he flinches away, the rejection sharp in your chest.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong,” he whispers, his voice strained and raw. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

You blink, the words hitting you harder than you expected. “You’re not going to lose me,” you say, taking his wrist gently in your hand, but he pulls away again, his face twisting in discomfort.

Then you see it—the mark on his wrist. Faint but still there, a bruise from where he must have hurt himself, the telltale sign of his inner turmoil. Your heart clenches, your mind racing.

“Shouto,” you whisper, your voice shaking. “You hurt yourself?”

His breath hitches, and before you can respond, he collapses into your arms, the sobs breaking free.

He’s so desperate so needy and so unstable but he needs you to make him feel alive and he needs to know that you’re here or he will do something that he will regret.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, his voice small, cracked. “I didn’t want to feel like this… I didn’t want to hurt you, but I couldn’t stop.”

You stroke his back, your own chest tight with emotion. You don’t fully understand, but you can see the desperation in his eyes, the overwhelming need to keep you close. You’re not just his…

He needs you to be his. Only his.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmur, pressing soft kisses to his hair. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Shouto. I’ll always be here.”

His body shudders in your arms, and his grip tightens around you as if you might vanish if he lets go. His voice trembles when he speaks again, a faint pleading in his tone.

“Promise… promise you’ll never leave me. Promise I’m yours, only yours.”

You blink at the intensity in his voice, the raw need in it. You’ve never seen him like this—.

vulnerable, broken, desperate. And it’s then that you realize, just how much control he has over his emotions. How much he needs you.

“Because just remember that I have a knife in my pocket all the time and if you ever try to leave me, I’ll kill my fucking self.”

“I promise,” you say softly, holding him even closer, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat against your chest. “I’ll never leave you, Shouto. You’re mine, too.”

A small, broken sob escapes his lips as he pulls back, his eyes red and wet, but there’s a flicker of relief in them.

He’s finally calmed, but the possessiveness in his gaze never fully fades. He needs you. And you know, deep down, that there’s nothing you can do to change that.

“I won’t let anyone else have you,” he mutters, his grip on you tightening once more.

And you can only nod, knowing you’ve promised to stay, but also understanding that, with Shouto, promises are never just words.

[kikyoupdates]

⭑˚💌⭑ yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

00 — Prologue 01 — Jealousy 02 — Helping Hand 03 — Toxic Mindsets 04 — A Fitting End 05 — Narrow Escape 06 — Someone Else 07 — Illusionary 08 — Failure 09 — Eyewitness 10 — Bound Forever 11 — Happy Reunion 12 — Karma 13 — The One Emotion 14 — A Losing Battle 15 — Disappear for Good

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💌 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[fattuccini-afraido]

Todoroki: Don't make fun of people who drink milk. Their bones may be strong but their hearts aren't.

Everyone: *Looks at Bakugo*

Baukgo: -hisss-

[ghostsy]

Dearly Beloved

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, imprisonment, slight infantilization, non-consensual implications, abuse, nsfw, smut, dub/noncon

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! TODOROKI SHOTO X READER

“Please, if you have any information…”

She wanted to throw up. Or pass out. In any particular order she didn’t really care, just anything to stop this. Her legs had long gone numb strewn over his lap, the dewy stains of her despair spilled across his slacks, her hands secured tightly behind her back.

“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Whatever joy I had disappeared with her that day. Please, I just want her home. We just want to bring our daughter home. She deserved…she deserves better than this…”

The device responsible for her torture was still buzzing excitedly at the swollen source of agony between her thighs. A sudden silence filled the room, television screen freezing on sobbing faces, and her heart leapt to her throat.

“You’re not paying attention.”

The vibrator clicked off, and his hand came to rest on her thigh, the other still secured around her waist to prop her up, squeezing at her hips. Though, the circles he drew on her skin weren’t in any way a comfort.

She couldn’t see his face from her place in front of the screen, but she hardly had to guess his expression, hardly had to guess his feelings. His reputation preceded him. Hot and Cold. She’d learned through painful trial and error that it was meant in more ways than one.

She licked at her cracked lips, “I am. I am–please–I promise, I am,” Through the breaks, her voice was sugar sweet, innocent, docile. A thinly veiled search for mercy.

“We’ll rewind.” Though, it seemed he would give her none as he coaxed her gaze back to the television in front of them.

Right. There was another source of agony–of torture–he’d been keen on subjecting her to today. It was her fault, she supposed, for being foolish enough to believe that unlocked window to be anything other than a test. A test that she’d, of course, failed. 

“Nearly one year after the sudden disappearance of a Tokyo woman, friends and family are struggling to hold on to hope. Our journalists caught up with…”

She closed her eyes, swallowing the salty tears fighting their way up her throat to join the streams on her cheeks, and opened her mouth to speak, hiccuping on her sobs.

“Please, I’ll–I’m sorry. I can’t take–I’ll never–I won’t–promise I won’t–”

“I don’t see the problem,” He’d made a career out of patronizing her, she’d discovered, “You wanted to see your friends and family, right?” The growing heat on her thigh meant it wasn’t rhetorical. 

She hissed at the burn, forcing a reply through gritted teeth, “I didn’t mean–”

“You didn’t mean…? You’re hardly in a position to be picky,” Shifting his hold on her, the vibrator, still latched to her pulsing clit, clicked on, two of his fingers dipped down, circling her glistening hole, teasing, “I’d say it's plenty gracious of me to give you even this,” Calloused and cold, they shoved themselves inside her, setting an unforgiving pace. 

She nearly keeled over from the sensation, cursing under her breath, “I’m–It wasn’t–Can we please just–”

“You think you’d be happier, right?” His canines grazed her neck, threatening to break through the skin, “That you’d feel better out there. What’s anyone out there ever done for you?” He scoffed, “What have they done to earn your love?” The tremble of his voice reminded her of his barely contained, and building, rage. She had to do something.

“No, that’s not–” She begged with his name on her lips, “I just–I just wanted–”

“All you need to do is convince me,” There was electricity building in her veins, though a pit of dread forming in her stomach, “Your happiness depends on them? I’m really so terrible?” The murmur of the television was turning to static in her ears, “Get through one interview, then,” He huffed out a humorless laugh, “Just one, I promise,” Voice low and sultry, “Without gushing on my fingers while you watch them cry.”

She choked on a sob, but the ache in her limbs and the tightness squeezing its way from her chest to her throat significantly damped any anger she would have–should have–felt. 

“She was my best friend; she wouldn’t have just up and left.”

She just wanted this to be over. Find her panties, curl up under her bed covers, and let the roaring tides in her lungs pour out her eyes, and scream. Scream ‘till she passed out, hoping to find peace in the abyss of unconsciousness.

“Was? Are you saying that you think she’s passed on?”

“...I—Well, it’s not—It’s just, it’s been so long, and I–if we, the people who care about her, are going to have any chance at healing…”

Alas, fate was never so kind to her, and she was reminded of another, more humiliating, tide pooling in her gut.

Two fingers inside her became three, and she bit her tongue to stifle a whimper as they reached that once special, now cursed, spot inside her. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t. It didn’t.

Sighing, he brought the hand around her waist to pet at her hair, “Don’t you see?” He tucked the strands behind her ear, hot breath hitting her skin, “They’ve given up on you. What will it take for you to understand, lovely?”

“I’m just so tired. We all are. But I love her, really I do.”

He snorted, “Love you. They don’t love you,” Angling his face downwards, hair tickling her cheek, “Family. Friends,” She was panting now, eyes going crossed from exertion, “They mean nothing. They are nothing.” She wouldn’t come; she couldn’t. But the clenching of her walls against his fingers betrayed her, and she felt his lips pull into a smirk against her throat.

“There’s just…what else is there left to do? I can’t–I don’t–scouring woods and swamps and–to try and find…try and find what? I just can’t–I can’t do it–I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t–”

“No one takes care of you like I do.” 

Vibrator still buzzing, a numbing, pulsing, ache formed between her legs, and his fingers, wet and crystalline, sped their pace, squelching as they fucked in and out of her weeping entrance. There was a ringing in her ears as she felt the floodgates start to open. Please no. Not again. 

What would they say if they could see her now? Mewling and moaning like a whore on her captor’s fingers while their worlds upended? How disgusting she was–if only her body agreed. 

“Take your time. If this is too hard–”

“No. I can at least do this for her. So people remember her. Remember her name. She would have wanted at least that.”

“No one knows you like I do.”

He was trailing wet kisses up her neck, tongue and teeth coming together to form scattered bruises in his path. Her thighs were spasming, flexing in an attempt to stave off the waves of pleasure threatening to drown her.

“It’s clear how much she means to you. How lucky she must have felt to have someone care about her so deeply.”

“No one loves you like I do.”

His teeth sunk into her earlobe, and her vision went white, nerves exploding as her walls clenched, desperately, gratefully, if not ashamedly, fluttering around his digits for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Though the relief, like any momentary pleasure he’d bestowed upon her, unwilling or otherwise, was short lived. Coming down from her high, she blinked away the tears weighing on her lashes, and blurring her vision, lungs heaving in an attempt to gather her bearings. The vibrator clicked off, and his fingers pulled themselves from her, dewy and gleaming.

“Suck.” He pushed them through her lips, and she choked on their length, licking at the sticky substance, and swallowing to assuage his anger. He removed them with a pop, and she held her breath, praying to whatever god she did or didn’t believe in that he would release her. He’d made his point, right? 

“I’m…I’m sorry,” She gulped in air to stifle the shake in her voice, and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, wetting the skin with her tears, pathetic, “I won’t–”

“You didn’t think we were finished did you?” Her heart dropped to her stomach, “You’ve failed to convince me, you know.” 

“I’m convinced!” She winced, realizing the volume, but found he was waiting for her to continue, “I’m…I’m convinced. You were right. I shouldn’t have tried to leave…I wasn’t–I wasn’t thinking.”

The second of silence was months long, but a soft laugh tinged with delirium broke through the static noise. Cold fingers clutched at her jaw, angling her face towards his own.

Forced to meet his gaze, she hated to admit it, but he was so pretty. The allure of mystery twinkled in those mismatched eyes, hiding the promise of something no man or woman or person could possibly hope to resist.

“No,” Sighing, his free hand squeezed at her waist, “No, you were never really good at that, were you?” She nearly didn’t hear him, lost to her thoughts, wallowing in self pity and hate; why hadn’t she seen it before?

She just wished she could have left well enough alone. Let that mystery pass her by unsolved. A promise can be hollow, she’d learned; a vortex of nothing that pulls you into the blackness, greedy in its emptiness to steal any soul or love or light from its captive, leaving them to drown in the inky darkness, dead, but never alone.

A stinging pinch at her side motivated her to sputter out the prompted answer.

“At what?”

“Thinking.”

She could say something, she realized. Anything. Anything but what she knew she’d let slip from her lips. Fucking coward.

“No,” Coward, “No, I wasn’t–I’m–No, I’m not.” 

He hummed, eyes twinkling, amused, “Anything else?”

Her teeth sunk into her lip, bloated and salted with her tears, canines piercing through the skin to let drops of red bubble to the surface. Still, she forced out another meek placation.

 “I’m sorry,” But cowards don’t get burnt and they don’t get frostbite and they don’t get hurt, “I’ll–I’ve learned my–my lesson, now. I promise, please–”

“It’s cute that you think anything you say matters,” Cowards don’t get hurt, she reminded herself, but the stinging of shattered pride in her chest argued otherwise, “Besides,” He motioned towards the television, “We’re not even halfway through.”

No. No no no. She’d done what he’d said, hadn’t she? Please. No more. The knot in her throat was making it hard to breathe, twisting and growing, “Please–”

He sighed as he shifted a bit behind her, and she felt it, more present than before, “What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t follow through on my promises, lovely?” The clink of a belt buckle ripped at her heart, “And, really, how can I resist,” Fingers trailed back down to swipe at her puffy and abused and dripping entrance before pulling away, flexing his fingers as the dewy substance stuck in webs to the digits, “When you’re practically begging for it.”

She felt like a ragdoll, what little fight or resistance or hope beaten and torn from inside her. A firm hand bruised her waist as he lifted her, and shuffled out of his pants. He turned her face back towards the screen, a trail of frost creeping at her jawline as he released her.

“If there’s anything you’d say to her if you could–anything you think she’d want to hear…”

“There’s just one thing.”

Something too big and too hard and too familiar prodded at her sore and tired entrance, and her fingernails made crescent moons in her tied palms.

“Wherever you are. Whatever happened.”

The wetness allowed him to slide in rather easily, but the girth was accompanied by a burning stretch. She should have been used to this by now, and while the feel of his cock throbbing inside her was all too familiar, she found herself dizzy, unfocused, nauseous. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to scream, but that inky blackness of his had filled her lungs. 

“I hope you’re somewhere warm and bright, even if it’s above the clouds.”

She was drowning. Drowning and hurting, and clawing for just a hint of light from the abyss of broken promises. Wasn’t drowning supposed to be peaceful? How long did she have to wait until it was peaceful? 

“I hope you’ve found peace.”

“Oh,” He sighed as he bottomed out inside her, “This is my favorite part.”

Her limbs felt heavy, and she felt so tired. Was this the good part? Give up and it won’t hurt. Give up and let him do as he pleased. Give up and drown prettily. Become as empty and hollow as the pit she was trapped in, and the hurt would stop. Feelings and pain and everything. Make it stop.

“And I promise, I won’t ever stop loving you.”