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artemis32 · 10 months ago

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Lovelorn

Yandere Class 1A x reader

yeah, uh, i hate this, but you get what you get

mbe masterlist

Izuku was at a loss.

He'd tried everything - absolutely everything - to get you to open up. To talk. To partake in group activities outside of class

But no matter what he did, no matter how he tried to sell the idea, no matter how manipulative he was, you declined.

Every. Single. Time.

What made it worse was that he knew several other people in your class were trying to achieve the same thing.

Mina had invited you out more times than he could keep count of, and each time she was met with a short, harsh rejection.

Sero and Kaminari had joked with you, trying to get you to at least crack a hint of a smile.

No success.

Momo constantly offered to help you study, and when you inevitably said no, she would insist on tea parties and lunch dates and shopping trips with the rest of the girls in the class. You had stared at her with a blank gaze until she felt uncomfortable enough to leave.

Even Uraraka, as sweet as she was, was unable to crack your tough exterior.

Izuku realised that they were quickly running out of options. They'd run through the list of class members they could turn to for a solution, and sooner or later they'd have to accept the worst-case scenario.

They'd have to ask Bakugo for help.

****

You hated your classmates.

They were annoying. They were insistent.

When they were around, you never got so much as two minutes of peace and quiet.

It was bearable during the first few months of your first year, when you could go home and have a break from their never-ending questions.

But then the school had decided that it was in the best interest of the students to have you all move into dorms.

You hadn't known a single moment of peace since.

There always seemed to be someone attached to your hip, or trailing a few steps behind you, or eyeing you from across the room.

It was annoying, and you thought you’d made that clear.

In the beginning, you thought they had all been so insistent because they were curious about your quirk.

That in itself was understandable - no one knew one another, so it was natural for everyone to want to get to know their classmates quirks.

You knew of everyone else’s quirks - of course you did, you knew everything about them - and for the most part, they knew about yours, or as much as you’d told them.

Teleportation.

You thought that would be enough to satiate them, but evidently, you were wrong.

At first, your classmates, Izuku specifically, wanted to know about all the intricacies of your quirk - the parameters, drawbacks, limits, range, all of it. That had been the first warning sign. You were taught growing up to never tell anyone more about your quirk than they needed to know. That was enough for you to avoid Izuku.

All of your classmates seemed to be in awe of your power, which was strange. You weren’t particularly fond of your quirk. It was just so boring.

Teleportation, especially at your current level, wasn’t very useful to a hero. You weren’t much good when you were only able to teleport yourself.

Regardless, you were working on improving your quirk as best you could.

A small part of your mind whispered to you that they knew about things they shouldn’t, but that was just the usual bout of paranoia getting to you. You’d know whatever they knew straight away.

****

You teleportation quirk had developed at four years old, which was slightly younger than your father had been banking on. He’d gone to great lengths to teach you how to control your ability - at four years old, you had a tendency to just disappear. Not because you wanted to, or because you were actively thinking about leaving. No, it was more because you had absolutely zero control over yourself or your quirk.

By the time you turned six, you’d mastered the control your father so desperately wanted you to learn. You found that keeping your emotions in check helped more than consciously thinking about not using your quirk.

That degree of control couldn’t have developed at a better time, because eight months later, right before your seventh birthday, you developed your second quirk.

Telepathy.

That’s what became the real bane of your existence.

Sure, you were blessed to have two quirks. In fact, you loved it as a child. But controlling this quirk proved to be significantly more difficult than your first.

You managed to get it under control, for the most part. You made sure that you weren’t blaring your thoughts out loud constantly, and you learnt how to talk to people one on one pretty quickly.

What you couldn’t control, even close to ten years after discovering your second quirk, was how to shut other people’s thoughts out.

It was a never-ending battle, trying not to up and leave whenever you got too overwhelmed.

You’re sure someone could have helped you. The adults in your life - middle school teachers, your friends, their parents, maybe even Mr Aizawa and your classmates could have helped you, but you would never breathe so much as a word to them about your quirk - not when you saw how people reacted to the idea of someone being able to read their every thought.

So you kept it to yourself, occasionally making use of your teleportation quirk to get a moment of silence, leaping far, far away from civilisation, from people’s thoughts.

In those moments alone, it wasn’t so bad. You thought about how incredible your quirks actually were, about how fortunate you were to have a quirk at all, never mind two.

Then you’d return back to your dorm, and the cycle would repeat.

****

You would admit, it was pretty funny.

Hearing how strangely obsessed your classmates were with you was actually hilarious, especially considering they thought you had no idea. Not to mention, constantly ruining their supposedly brilliant plans.

Some of their ideas truly were brilliant, and they may have worked, had you not known about them in advance.

There were times that you almost felt bad for them. Almost. But playing along with them, seeing just how far you could push them without raising suspicion - it was fun.

Like right now, for example.

“-but I’m sure the weather will be clear enough for a picnic next weekend, since you don’t seem to like the idea of a tea party. What do you think?”

Yaoyorozu and Mina, who stood in front of your desk as you stared out the window, were still talking. Of course, what they were saying sounded nice enough, but their thoughts betrayed their true intentions.

Come oooonnnnnn, say yes, say yes! Just one bit of personal information, that’s all I need. I absolutely have to win this bet with Kaminari, so just give me something to work with!

Mina was someone who remained loud and talkative both within her mind, and when talking to people aloud.

The bet she was thinking about had been a running gag for a while now, something you had almost grown bored of.

Mina, Denki and Sero had made a bet; whoever was first to learn a tidbit of personal information about you, from you, got free reign of the communal gaming system in the dorm lounge for a month.

At least, that's what it started out as in the beginning.

It quickly reached the ears of the other students in your class, and everyone wanted in on the bet.

The promise of dibs on the game system long forgotten, their focus quickly moved on to bragging rights - after all, getting you to reveal any amount of personal information was seen as a great feat, one worthy of praise.

It had been funny at first, seeing how they scrambled to talk to you first, or the awkward ways they interacted with you to get even the slightest sliver of information.

Now, their thoughts gave you a headache whenever they were near.

You could probably have gone to Mr Aizawa if you had to - you were sure you could fabricate some evidence of their weird behaviour and have him intervene.

But the problem was, he was just as bad.

He had this weird, protective mindset.

It had creeped you out at first, but with time, you'd almost grown fond of his concern. It was... endearing. Kind of. Like a father. Or a puppy.

Regardless, he knew about their antics, and he hadn't bothered with them so far, so you decided it would be best if you kept your knowledge of the situation to yourself.

“No. Thank you though,” you reply smoothly, turning away from them to signal the end of the conversation.

But of course, they never really took no as an answer.

“Why? If it’s because you don’t want to be around a ton of people, then don’t worry about it - it’ll be like, eight of us. Please,” they ask, eyes wide and hopeful.

You’re saved, literally, by All Might entering the classroom with a silent shuffle.

“To your seats everyone, get to your seats please.”

****

Even without the use of your quirk, you can feel your class glowering from across the room.

You aren’t sure how your purple haired companion doesn’t realise that they’re glaring daggers at him - he really doesn’t even register that they’re looking at him at all.

But he doesn’t mention it, and no thoughts of them cross his mind, so you pay them no mind.

You liked Shinso. He was good company - quiet, polite, and his thoughts were the kind that barely skirted the edge of your consciousness. Being around him was like a breath of fresh air, so you clung to him.

It wasn’t often that you found someone who didn’t induce a migraine as soon as they entered the room. In fact, you could count on one hand the number of people you’d met that you could tolerate for longer than ten minutes.

Shinso was one, and Aizawa, surprisingly, was another.

Even more surprising than that though, had to be that Bakugo of all people had a quiet mind.

If anyone had known about your quirk and you told them, you were sure they’d call you a liar.

But it was the truth. The angry blond had such a tranquil mind that, if he allowed it, you’d befriend him. But you’d grown an aversion to being near him, as wherever Bakugo was, a crowd of classmates was sure to follow.

You’re brought back to the present moment as Shinso shakes his hand in front of your face, throwing you a quizzical look.

“Ah, sorry, I zoned out.”

He nods in understanding, before glancing behind you.

“Just thought I’d let you know; your classmates look like they want my head on a stick,” he says in a bored tone, eyes sliding back to you a moment later.

You make a noise at the back of your throat.

“Yeah,” you wince, “I noticed that. I didn’t want to mention it.”

He shrugs, standing up and offering you his hand.

“Well, then let’s find somewhere else to sit, huh?”

You smile. Your classmates are outraged, seething as you accept his hand and sweep out of the cafeteria.

Thank goodness, you think, there were so many voices.

You only went to the cafeteria because Shinso liked the soba they served.

Honestly, braving the bustling centre felt like someone was hitting between your eyes with an ice-pick - pure torture.

The flood of thoughts fades as the two of you walk further from the main building, and your shoulders slump with relief.

If he notices, Shinso doesn’t comment. You’d thought originally that he was just extremely unobservant, but he really just didn’t think about or mention anything unless it raised any actual concern.

You’d realised that when you had accompanied him to a private training session with Aizawa, and you’d had a migraine from a long day of dealing with your classmates.

He only brought it up, openly thought about it when he saw how you grabbed at your head out of the corner of his eye.

Being with him was peaceful, you’d realised in that moment, because he had incredible control over his thoughts. That must have been because of his own predominantly mental quirk.

The thought made you happy, for some reason.

****

You liked when Mr Aizawa used his quirk on you.

The rest of your classmates hated it, and it really seemed to throw them off, but to you, it felt like sweet relief. It made everything quiet. Peaceful.

There were times where it threw you off, suddenly hearing nothing but radio silence, but after some adjustment, it was as if someone had released the pressure on your skull. Not that he, or anyone else knew.

Though, on some occasions, when he looked at you before you had time to mask the relief on your face, you saw the slight glimmer of something akin to realisation in his eyes. If he knew, he never brought it up.

It should’ve had you on edge - the fact that he might’ve known, but never said anything. But it didn’t. You didn’t know why.

If anyone were to discover your second quirk, you’d be in a world of trouble. Having an unregistered quirk, especially at your age, in UA of all places - it was unheard of.

It was criminal.

So you should’ve been terrified at the thought of someone finding out, knowing about your quirk.

But surely if he knew, he’d have brought it up by now?

“Quiet down class,” Aizawa demands flatly.

They don’t listen. Of course they don’t.

Their incessant chatter matches their constant barrage of thoughts, and it seems particularly noisy today. All their thoughts are focused on you, and it leaves a sharp throb in your temples.

Aizawa glares at them, eyes flashing crimson for a moment, and you feel all the tension melt away. You prepare yourself for the inevitable rush of returning voices, but it doesn’t come. Aizawa, for some reason, keeps his quirk activated, gaze roaming the class, lingering on you for a second too long before he looks away, brows furrowing as he blinks.

You mask your wince with an awkward cough, shifting in your seat. Now, most thoughts were centred around Aizawa and how scary he was.

The thought makes you laugh. They were so far off the mark, it was comical. Aizawa was like an overly concerned parent, thoughts constantly circling his students, how he could push them to be better. Honestly, it was quite heart warming, and the fact that his actions were so glaringly different to his thoughts made it ten times funnier.

Aizawa calls your name, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Sensei?”

“See me after class.”

Before you have a chance to delve into his mind to see what he was thinking, a barrage of thoughts hit you from all angles, your classmates wondering, like you, what this was all about.

You don’t give much thought to his request, too overwhelmed to try and sift through the turbulent sea of thoughts.

****

Aizawa schools his expression, staring down at you blankly.

“Well?”

You looked so young like this – wide eyed, trembling hands, pale, blanched face. You were panicked. He knew you were, but he made no move to ease your worries, waiting instead for confirmation.

“I– Sensei…”

He feels his brow twitch.

Not in annoyance. Not with you. Never you. You tended to tug at his heart strings, for reasons he didn’t fully understand.

Maybe because you were so young? You appeared younger still with that gleam of innocence in your eyes. Hero society was no place for someone like you - you were someone heroes should be protecting, rather than welcoming into their ranks.

“Answer the question.”

Your throat bobs as you swallow and turn your head to look out the window.

Were you thinking of a way to talk yourself out the situation? Were you trying to find a way to play off his discovery as nothing more than a funny happenstance? He didn’t doubt it.

“…yes.”

The word weighs heavily on you, shoulders sagging as you stand before him, curling in on yourself. His heart aches at the sight.

How overwhelming was it, to keep something like this to yourself? To live in fear of someone discovering your secret and hating you for it?

“And you’ve kept this to yourself for the past ten years? You’ve had no training or help whatsoever?”

You seem surprised at the shock colouring his tone, as if you’d expected him to be angry or fearful, rather than sympathetic. Again, he wondered how you’d dealt with this all alone for so long.

He sighs.

“You’re not in trouble. I’m not mad.”

He sees the tension melt from your posture in real time, as if someone had lifted an anvil off your shoulders.

“If you’d like, I can help you. We could do some training after classes; help you learn control? I can’t promise anything, but it might help.”

Of all the things Aizawa had expected to happen, you bursting into tears wasn’t one of them. Some long buried protective instinct rears it’s head at the sight of your red rimmed eyes as you try desperately to mop away the tears on your cheeks.

He awkwardly shifts from one foot to another, patting your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to comfort you.

“I’m really not in trouble? Y-You don’t hate me for listening in on your thoughts without permission?”

Again, that same painful clench in his heart.

“No, I don’t. Why would I hate you for something you can’t control? None of your classmates would either, I can promise you that.”

Aizawa spends the next twenty minutes clumsily comforting you, dismissing you as soon as your tears have stopped and he makes his way to the principal’s office a few minutes later. When he arrives, he’s immediately greeted by a very tense looking All Might and an oblivious, chattering Nezu.

He seats himself in the armchair next to Toshinori, posture sagging.

“You were right.”

Nezu cackles at that, hardly able to get a word in through his triumphant laughter. His reaction is in stark contrast to the other two men and their responses. The two share a tense, understanding look, glancing back at Nezu as he calms his laughter.

“Oh, this is most wonderful! I can’t wait to see what happens!”

Guilt eats away at Aizawa. He could only hope you wouldn’t hate him and Toshinori, or even your classmates for what they planned on doing.

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corollaservant · 7 months ago

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Introspect // Dabi x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: The past never dies. But it can often be forgotten. (3.4k)

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, captivity, stalking, violence, noncon/dubcon, jealousy, delusion, denial, implied PTSD, deterministic and nihilistic philosophical paradigm, Dabi's POV—stream of consciousness type fic

A/N: wrote this in 3hrs. majorly inspired by (and dedicated to) my fave tumblr writer, new magic wand by tyler the creator and this dabi art 🖤

Happy. You looked happy, that’s what he thought when he saw it.

Not in a way you’d been with him anyway. He didn’t know whether that was for the better. The first thing he thought was you posted him. Of course you would. He was not patched, burnt or looking like someone who escaped the psychiatric ward. Without proper clothing, jumping out of a window, frantically running towards the opposite direction. Was it a matter of appearance? Or did you just not like him enough? He wouldn’t know, you hadn’t spoken in a month. And some days. That’s when you told him you needed space. Seriously, people needed to come up with better excuses, this one was over-saturated. Was it bad he clung onto you? It’s not like you had many friends, all he had asked was more of your time. Your stupid job wasn’t even that important—he never bothered finding out what you did exactly, it’s not like he didn’t care, he just wanted you there. The rest of your whereabouts were none of his business as long as you were not conversing (excessively) with anyone else. Because even then, why would you need to do that? He could do it for you.

He had no actual job, well, classifying as a villain doesn’t get you far in life, he called himself a freelancer. Freelancer in murder and theft, maybe. But he felt like he had a share in serving divine justice. A modern vigilante so to say. Any accidental death was a misfortune, a predetermined fate. He didn’t want to pretend to be integrated in society for you to like him, he was lucky because he didn’t have to. Which then reminded him of how he met you.

Petting strays at night wasn’t careful of you, especially with the crime rates in the city. But you had done so regardless, he remembers it vividly: You in an alley, on your knees, not caring about the dirt coming in direct contact, extending your hand. The cat was barely visible, he could only make out its yellow eyes. But then, the cat saw him, he knew cats had brilliant vision and it left you, perhaps in thought he had food you didn’t. You turned your head only to take a step back. Not smart, you landed on your ass as you opened your mouth. Did he scare you? Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. Under other circumstances he’d leave. Making fun of strangers wasn’t really his thing, not unless they deserved it, but the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Animals loved him, his mom used to tell him not to trust people who repelled them, it was a bad sign. Animals had instinct, animals could tell. He decided to pet the little guy (or girl?), as he kneeled down and softly touched its head. That was another thing about cats. They didn’t give a fuck about the staples or burnt odor, they just wanted food and the occasional touch. He liked cats. He could see himself in them. Something in the domesticity of the situation must've calmed you down because you fixed your posture and to his surprise approached him. It was still dark, you were still a woman and alone in an alley.

‘’He likes you.’’ You told him. Had you already figured out it was a male stray? Dabi must’ve underestimated you. Your voice hid a whine, a soft protest but it was not annoyance and he shifted his gaze.

‘’Yeah.’’ was all he said.

‘’Can I?’’ You asked. Why were you asking for permission, this wasn’t even his cat.

‘’Sure.’’

You were so close, trying not to scare the cat and also touch him, he noticed. Your finger tried to avoid his but the cat’s head was unfortunately not that big so you eventually grazed a digit over him. You hadn’t flinched back then, hadn’t even scrunched your nose, were you not afraid? Didn’t the smell and appearance repel you? Apparently not, you seemed so invested in getting the cat to like you. It wasn’t like it didn’t. The stray ended up loving you, purring at your touch and looking in your eyes, like a man in love. And maybe it wasn’t just the cat.

Within three days of your first encounter he had you on his chest, in your apartment of course, where else could he have you? He wanted to fuck you the first time he saw you, but the urge wasn’t that violent, which had taken him by suprise. You also did not seem like the type to give it up easily. He’d have to do some mental jumping jacks to get you, he didn’t worry about revealing too much though; he didn't have a lot to say, his old identity long buried away with his sensitivity. He still didn’t feel like hurting you. The first night he told you his name, Dabi, and it was so convincing, he too had believed it. You exchanged trivial information neither cared about and he offered company on your way back. He scolded you for being alone in the neighborhood, like some good samaritan, he laughed as he guided you through dimly lit alleys with zero traffic.

‘’Want to come inside?’’ You had asked. Already? Were you that easy? But who was he to say no?

Your place was small, as expected, neat and tidy, with a few clothes on the bed, nothing bad. It smelled nice too, he noticed a small plant on the coffee table. How gullible to let him in like that. Dabi imagined how many times you must’ve been wronged in life. But you being you—it was probably something that flew over your head daily. You’d call it compromise, he’d call it stupidity.

He had fucked you in missionary that night, a true gentleman, easing his way inside and slightly towering, making sure the stapled skin under his sternum didn’t touch your sensitive one. You were soaking by the time you stopped making out and he slid a finger inside, warm and enticing, his cock hardened in primal ways. He had softly thrown you on your bed (his definition of soft wasn’t exactly soft, you had let out a groan, was it bad?) and climbed on top. You were looking at him expectantly, your eyes glassy, was that pain or excitement, Dabi would bet bucks on the latter. The way you had shyly parted your legs, not for his cock, but to fit him in between was sickeningly pretty, he could swear he was almost…nervous to slip his cock inside. And he was right, trying to fit it inside failed him two or three times while he pretended to toy your clit with his cockhead. You didn’t seem to mind, his act must’ve been convincing, you were softly moaning and your eyes dared to look at the sight of his swollen tip against your lower lips, was it pretty? He had fucked you as hard as he would allow himself—your body could take it, he had to be honest, the more he stuffed you, the more he needed to drive his cock further into your soft walls, there was no room for play pretend romance here. But you seemed to like it too, wrapping your arms around the bare part of his back, fingers accidentally trailing the stapled skin and groaning near his face. ‘’Fuck.. right there.. D-Dabi! More!’’ More? Sure, you could have more. A patched arm strongly pinned a leg above your head, touching the bed frame, as his stiff and pained cock violated your cunt, he could feel how deep he was and constantly fought the urge to spill already. As for you? Tears from your eyes fell down your now stained sheets as you screamed. Pleasure, pain, honestly he didn’t care much about what it was, your pussy clamping down on him the last thing he felt before he bit down your neck, almost ripping out the skin tissue. His cum slowly trickled out, while both of you panted, each exhale synchronizing with the clock ticking in the kitchen.

There were no voids you could fill, he knew it, interacting with others proved to be a daily reminder. But there were voids you soothed, pain you healed just with your head resting where a heart used to be. Heart beating irregularly, like his feet in his childhood, with excitement, with a different type of eagerness. These weren’t thoughts he made that night and that’s how he knew he liked you. That night his mind was blank for the very first time, carefree from reality, from the ugliness of living—you had sex with some stained villain, who hadn’t only stained your cunt, but your sheets too, your morals indirectly and heart along the way. These thoughts came to him when he saw the photo. Space. You said you needed space. There wasn’t any relationship established, what the fuck you needed space for? Because now he had found something to give waking up a reason. Someone to regularly satisfy his cock with, someone to take away his thoughts and halt his aimless wandering. And you needed space. How lame. You know what? He could give you space. Indirectly of course. He’d still follow you around, check the whereabouts and conversations, sit outside your house and watch you get undressed. But you looked happy. And he couldn’t decipher in what way. Was he a friend? Who gives a fuck about the guy anyway, why were you smiling like that? You never posted him, that's for sure, you knew in the three months of irregular hanging out (to call it dating would be a joke) that he hated it. And so you never did, even though he wanted you to deep down. Something small. A grocery store visit, one you made when he said he’d cook dinner (he had burnt it). But you never did and now here you are posting with someone irrelevant.

Murder wasn’t the answer. Stupidly enough it was always associated with morality. But you’d think Dabi would have none of that. He thought murder was stupid. No second of his time ought to be wasted for the next guy. Though he had to admit, he often contemplated whether you’d want this. You didn’t know shit about him. But a sudden murder would definitely have you crawling for protection. And who better than the one who committed it? He honestly wouldn’t go out of his way to do all that. He wanted you organically. It had been a long time since he wanted someone. But you sufficed. You were enough. You never asked, never complained, not even when you’d come home from work, exhausted and dirty and he was waiting at your door. Not even when you were shoved against the cupboards and fucked without remorse—you still wrapped your legs around him and whimpered on his neck. And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He hugged you in your sleep. You’d both sleep in opposite directions, you first of course, so you’d never notice he switched sides and brought a leg over yours, resting his head on your throat, feeling each breath, each pulse. You’d wake up confused at the position, he’d say he didn’t remember. These were the few nights he could reach REM state. No vivid dreams of course, a shipwreck maybe and some elevator descending, lack of control or whatever bullshit he read once. He could still dream though, a miserable reminder he was still human.

He was always mean. The world didn’t care to mold someone into being nice. What would that even be? He thought nice meant exchange. Be nice and you’d get a pair of shoes. Act nice and you’ll get to watch TV. Treat others with respect and you’d be the family’s topic of discussion over Christmas. Sure, there were selfless people, he wasn’t crazy to think there weren’t a few of them left. You’d be his prime example. And you weren’t even stupid. But your willingness to help and give bordered exploitation. It hit him like lightning. You needed to get away, the real world was doing damage to people like you. If you were with him, you wouldn't have to think twice about being taken advantage of. He’d still be mean, you wouldn’t change that. But at least you’d sleep assured knowing that he’d never, ever demand something from you. Well…besides your presence, though he’d take you as you are, so in retrospect you’d come to appreciate him for the service.

When he came to pick you up (abduct sounded rough—you’d also want this eventually) you had just finished work. To others you seemed fine, to him you looked exhausted. No need for mask, no need for clothes, he had everything arranged. You hadn’t objected much, he tried the kind approach first, he had only asked you to go for a ride with him in a car he stole, something you’d never know. The place was a dump, a couch covered in dust and a rusty kitchen, but you’d both make it work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find money. He would, eventually. He remembers the way your eyes widened, what were you expecting, a trip to the countryside for some mimosas? You should’ve known better. ‘’What are we doing here?’’ You had asked, looking him in the eyes, you seemed frightened like the first time you saw him in the alley, it all ends in the beginning of the cycle, such a paradox, he thought. ‘’This is our new place.’’ He cooed as he approached you, you took a step back. There really was no reason for you to be scared, you’d grow to understand the only thing scaring you would be losing him.

He had tried to kiss you but you protested, pushing him away, a shame really and he wanted to continue with the nice approach. Well then again nice didn’t really exist so it wouldn't have worked anyway. He kissed you, your mouth was closed but not for long before it was forced open, arms snaking around your waist and pinning you to a wall collecting condensation since god knows when. He was on your neck, kissing, biting, frenzied moves really, he needed you more than he needed whatever kept him alive. Three months ago, he stopped thinking. Now, the only thing he thought was you. He dragged you to the dusty sofa, he thought of using his quirk to burn the fabric, but ripping it out came naturally. You were laid out naked and shivering, his hands grabbed your waist—was this warm enough for you? You whispered something, maybe it was louder than a whisper, stop or whatever but he couldn’t listen. He found your cunt immediately, he was almost drooling at the sight, when was he that hungry ever again? Something about your life. People behind. You said something, he didn’t listen. You weren’t that wet like the first time, he understood. Women, they need emotional connection. Maybe a sloppier kiss to get them going. He found your mouth again, forcing you to kiss him back while he gorged on yours, a small movement in your hips, a pad of his finger back on your cunt. Wetter, perfect. He slid up a finger, curling it while his thumb grazed over your clit, you whimpered. That was a sound he could finally register. He’d bring back that smile, but it’d be for him only. One finger turned to two and eventually three, he needed to stretch you out to take him, nothing had changed since the first time, just his eagerness. His cock throbbed in his black pants, he wanted to taste you.

You moaned and attempted to touch his hair. He didn’t mind but this wasn’t the time. He moved his head lower, spreading your thighs open and spitting on your clit. Spittle dripped down your slit and his index finger trailed it along the entrance, earning him a moan. See, you already enjoyed this too much. This would be your life now on, he’d fuck you till you wouldn’t want another thing. Captivity had a good side after all. He’d treat you so well, he wouldn’t even have to force all that domestic bullshit on you. You’d do it willingly. He eats your cunt out like it's the most sacred meal, sloppily and without coordination, pushing his tongue inside and gripping your thighs forcefully and what is this? You buck your hips up, wanting more, needy little slut. Perfect, so perfect for making him stop thinking. Making him forget. His cock must leak precum, it feels uncomfortable and he wants you to coat his tongue, he really does, but please understand, he needs you. Now. To bother removing his pants fully would be hilarious, he has neither time nor desire to do so, they’re slid down half way, his cock jumps on his abdomen and he gives it an impatient stroke—looking at you always. Let me go. You say, what? Were you stupid? Right before the best part? Right before the start of a new life? Of a life you should be living years ago? Delusional, you’re delusional. ‘’You love me, baby.’’ He tells you and lets his cockhead slip in your entrance, bit by bit until he’s bottomed out and you wince, he doesn’t move just for a second, this should be enough and then starts thrusting without consideration. Like it’s an incentive, like you’re a hole that needs filling, a mere means to an end. You protest a bit more, if you get louder he might have to get violent on you, please understand he doesn’t want this. You’ll get it, eventually. He can’t decipher the look on your face, it certainly doesn’t scream happy like in the photo.

And then he’s reminded of the photo and a rage is born. ‘’Did he fuck you this good?’’ He spears his cock inside, you are hitting against the arm of the couch, your mouth contracts and you dampen his cock, so he must be doing something right. ‘’Tell me, did he fuck this cunt?’’ He asks and you just moan—are you dumb? Why aren’t you answering? His arms envelop your throat, pressing on the carotid artery as your muffled moans get even more constricted, he spits on your face and demands an answer. Dirty. Slut. Dirty. ‘’N-o’’ comes out your mouth. He hadn’t tainted you? He hadn’t touched you. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He wipes the saliva off your cheeks, it’s so...wet? Are you crying? Why are you crying? He hates it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He kisses you while he plunges deeper, you groan and try to avoid him, stop doing this, you’re his now, it’s final. ‘’I’ll make you feel better, alright?’’ He breathes out, he knows you like his fingers, he knows. His thumb circles achingly, longingly even on your puffy clit while you clench around him, your breathing is labored, you have to cum—cum now! On his cock, show him how much you love him. A few more strokes and he has you clamping down, more tears, so many tears and you moan out his fake name, with anger maybe or an orgasm high, he can’t tell and he doesn’t care either, it’s enough. He needs to steal a kiss one last time and feel the way you squeeze and soak all around to let his load paint you white, maybe he is like a woman after all, longing for emotion, even when he has to fulfill plain instincts. You don’t talk after it, you don’t even blink, you aren’t passed out, are you? He wasn’t that hard, come on now. He has to remove himself, clean you up, the couch and he the least of his priorities. You need to get accustomed. You’ll love it.

You never ask. About the photo. About your family. About anything prior. But that’s not something he dwells upon, he doesn’t like to look back. You still sleep next to him, well, there aren’t many other options available, yet you do. You still breathe softly in your sleep, he still hugs you from behind. You’ve become a sedative, a very much needed one. He dreams some days, an elevator falling, a shipwreck. Only, you’re there this time.

The few days he remembers the dream, he appreciates the company. He can only hope you do, too.

#yandere mha #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha x reader #yandere touya x reader #dark content #my hero academia #mha imagines #todoroki touya x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #tw noncon #tw delusion #tw violence

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melancholymegumi · 1 year ago

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melody’s current thoughts…💭

warning..!? ; yandere dad bf!izuku , ddlg (?) , forced subspace , finger sucking , pacifiers , spankings mentioned.

[˚ʚ♡ɞ˚] — yan dad bf!izuku ft uncle katsuki and shoto.

[☆] — yan dad bf!izuku who dresses you in the prettiest pastel lingerie ever! pair them with thigh high socks and he'll be in your pussy deep for hours!

[☆] — yan dad bf!izuku who always carries a pacifier. You can suck his fingers and that only– if you suck on your own fingers , you're gonna get sick and go to hospitals! didn't daddy tell you how scary those are?

[☆] — yan dad bf!izuku who invites two of his bestfriends to roadtrips! Especially your favourite ‘uncle’ shoto! You don't know how to feel about uncle katsuki though.. he's mean and scary!

[☆] — yan ‘uncle’!katsuki who forces you to be little whenever you're being bratty , daddy says he's in control while he's on patrol anyways. Who are you to defy him like that? do you need a spanking?

[☆] — yan 'uncle'!shoto who's always nice to you. You want treats? Sure, but let's ask daddy first. ‘uncle’ katsuki’s being mean? Aw don't worry sweetheart, he's there to make it all better!

[☆] — them, who're ready to kill anyone who even icks you or them the wrong way, it's okay that they're pro heroes. They're all criminals and are charged with assault — because they assaulted your eyes by existing.

#tw dark content #bnha x reader #mha smut #izuku x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha x reader #yandere izuku #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere katsuki bakugou #melody's headcanons

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heareriispurr · 4 months ago

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class a boys' fashion 1/2

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serxinns · 2 months ago

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♡GAME SHOW☆

Yandere class 1a x reader imagine or something idk..

A/n: I wanted to make a part 2 or silly scenario of this fic imagining any possibility

DISCLAIMER: The concept and idea is NOT mine this idea belongs to @lady-ashfade and the divder is by @kimjiho1 please go check out their channel and theit work if you want to support her and want the context of this fic thank you!

Summary: there's only a ticket to f/s, and only one classmate can go... so how do they solve this...WITH A GAME SHOW OFC!

“What, which one of us gets to go…” everyone paused and stared at each other you felt the tension of everyone ready to rip their heads off over this opportunity to finally be alone with you "Maybe I should-" Izuku was cut off by Bakugo and towards you "I HELPED THEM GET THE MOST CANDY I SHOULD GO!" He yelled, "But we won, and I floated around the candy bags when they were getting heavy! I should go, right, sweetie?" Ochako looked at you with pleading eyes as she held your arm tight

"you guys only got them at the last minute, plus mi amor, I made up the plan of working together! I should go!" Sero protested while the dekusquad and his squad were glaring at him. "Sero, you're betraying us?! That isn't manly!" Kirishima pouted, looking at his friend. "Oh, quiet; you would've done the same thing for that extra ticket!" Tokoyami added, earning a glare from the red-haired male. Everyone else started butting heads and joining in fighting about who gets the tickets while they grabbed ahold of you

"Hey can't everyone just calm down!" you said annoyed with their antics but it seemed like nobody heard you, you groaned, you already had to deal with 20-plus students tugging you into their group to trick or treat with them while they tried to talk flirt, showing affection or just want your attention everyone was getting louder as if they were roving up their quirks to attack

"Everyone STOP!!" Everyone stopped in their tracks and backed away from each other looking at you "I will think about it overnight then I'll say my answer tomorrow at the end of the day just stop fighting it's getting late anyway" the class grumbled to themselves sending glares and slides remarks and headed to their dorms for the night

You lie in your bed wondering who to choose to stare at the tickets the dekusquad gave you, the dekusquad did win with Ochako floating us around the town (and side hugging you while carrying a bag of candy in the other hand) Iida, todoroki, and izuku zooming through each house with their quirks and tsuyu grabbing the candy in her tongue they all worked so hard but the bakusquad was also the reason you got a lot of candy so it wouldn't be fair as well... plus Momo creating extra bags using her quirk when you got tugged away from the deluging

There were so many good choices you just couldn't decide! They were all your friends! And they also helped you out at the contest even if they were overbearing your head was buried in the pillow guilt overcoming you the thought of your classmates feeling sad cause you didn't choose them makes you a bad friend "Maybe...when I wake up I'll probably have an answer.." you thought surely your classmates will be a bit more understanding and patient the next day right?

Oh boy you were, your friends seemed to grow clingy towards you and not to mention more competitive with each other, Iida or Shoji offered you to walk to class with them which caused a bit fit between them, during periods whenever you needed to borrow anything like a pencil or an easer your friends saw it as some sort of challenge or war, jirou or tsuyu trying to offer to carry your stuff even tho you can carry them just fine,

At the cafeteria normally your friends would sit with their certain groups but now they were against each other not even the groups were together hands kept tugging you to their direction insisting you should sit with them it got so bad you couldn't even escape to the roof because hakagure, Mina and Ojiro, were already waiting for you arguing you had to hide in the closet to eat your lunch in peace which sucks

But training was the worst everybody kept trying to interrupt your training and sparring just so they could get your attention shoji and Kirishima flexed their muscles towards you making sure you got a full view, Izuku and Katsuki were tryna beat each other to see who could prove to protect you, tsuyu pretending to teach you some stealthy tricks so she can have a excuse to talk to you more about your favorite show, tokoyami and Mina throwing everything they have on each other for you

And then it was the end of the day and you still couldn't pick anyone Your overbearing classmates drained you so much you forgot all about it, you sighed entering in the common room where everyone's eyes were on you eagerly waiting for your answer "I-I" "do you know who to choose it's me right!" Ojiro came out of nowhere right in your face, his tail wagging a bit. You backed up a bit while everyone glared at him. "Don't be so sure. It's perhaps probably me," Todoroki said nonchalantly. "What makes so sure it's you icy? hot!?" Bakugo added glaring at him

Then everyone started bickering again, claiming that it's gonna be them. You groaned, obviously not knowing what to do. "Quiet!" The class shut up immediately and looked towards where the voice came from. The voice said a tried purple boy walked into the scene, revealing himself and placing his a on your shoulder. "If it can get you to stop screaming at each other, why not battle for it or something?" Shinsou's suggested with a smirk

Everyone looked at each other for a second; Bakugo had a malicious smile." If it'll that will end this, why can't we..." As he said, activating his quirk, you panicked, not wanting another war breaking out or especially one of your friends getting hurt over some tickets. "Or, how about a game show!" You blurt out. Everybody pauses for a second until Hakagure blurts out, "That could be fun! Good idea y/n!" She hugged you tightly as everyone else reluctantly agreed as well

....

"Welcome one and all to the amazing UA high gameshow!!!" The presenter mic announced as the class clapped and cheered determined to win that extra ticket "im your host present mic and tonight these contestants will be fighting for the tickets for f/s!!!" Mic proudly explained with the cheering soundtrack, "Let's meet our contestants! Class 1a!!" The cheering soundtrack came on again showing your friends looking as determined and focused as ever which surprised you a bit

"Now that you met our lovely contestants I'll drop the rules! There will be 4 rounds and a special final round. Each round will contain 5 students; the questions will be based on a certain student, quirk, or even based on your hero studies! Whoever gets the most points before this timer runs out goes to the special round where the winners of the previous rounds answer this special question. If one contestant gets it right, they're the winner!!"

Present mic proudly exclaimed; you turned to notice your friends not acknowledging the loud teacher. Rather, they were glaring at each other as if they were creating threats in their minds. You gulped nervously hoping nothing went to the extreme and they started trying to be at each other's throats again "Are you sure about this they don't look happy.." you showed your concern and Shinso who was also a contestant for fun smirked "it's fine I'm sure they won't try to kill each other in the middle of the game they aren't psychopaths" he joked, you nervously laughed at his humor attempt

Present mic then when in front of the screen "The 1st contestants of this round is... Midoriya Izuku, Uraraka Ochako, Tenya Iida, todoroki Shoto, and tsuyu Asui!" C'mon down!" The cheering soundtrack came on as The 5 classmates went down to their podiums, preparing to adjust themselves "Now, my assistant y/n will read the questions, and if you answer them correctly, you gain 100 points!" He then pushed you to the question podium you nervously waved as your friends were awestruck by your cuteness

As the round one began iida and izuku were answering them pretty well Ochako and todoroki were right behind them with tsuyu having 100 points shorter then the others "ok final question for 300 points...what's one of my abilities my quirk can do?" You asked the sudden button press and it was izuku his other group members glared at him,he without hesitation he replied "you can control the pressure! And control the temperature of the water but you can also-" before he can continue his endless ramblings present mic cut him off "Oh times up! Let's see who gets to go to the special round!"

The screen pull up each of the round 1 students points with tsuyu 600 Ochako 700 todoroki with a 700 iida with 700 and Midoriya with 1000 "looks like izuku Midoriya is heading to the special round!" The cheering soundtrack came on as izuku eyes bleamed he was for sure gonna win this!

"Onto the 2nd round!" Present mic cheered as the soundtrack played, "Our contestants are...Bakugo katsuki, Kirishima ejiou, Hanta Sero, Kaminari Denki, and Asido Mina!" The crowd cheered as they went up the stage Denki winked at you while Mina blew a kiss to you, you chuckled thinking she was just joking, and started the questions, the round was intense both contestants were answering these questions with the best of their abilities and whenever someone buzzes the button bakugo would glare darkly at them

It was tied down to Kirishima and Denki with 500 points, Mina with 700 points, Sero and Bakugo with 800 points again, then there was the last question: "All right, this question is worth 500 points. Whoever gets this correctly wins the 2nd round!" The 5 students were determined, their eyes locked on the screen, their hands hovering over the button. "The last question is if a citizen is giving you a hard time, what do you do?' Kirishima pressed the button 1st, causing everyone to glare, praying that he'd get the answer wrong. "You listen carefully and never argue back or interrupt," he answered. "Correct!" His eyes beamed up

"Congratulations, Kirishima, you will continue into the special round!" Present mic announced while his friends glared at him in jealousy as Kirishima sheepishly smiled. "Sorry guys!" "I'm not sharing my food with you for a week shitty hair bastard!!!" "not cool man!" "Betrayal!!" "Humph!"

As his friends all insult him, all Kirishima could think of was the tickets everyone kept tugging away from him, but not this time. He was so sure gonna win. He just needed a game plan. "Hey y/n, did you see me? I did amazing, didn't I?" You Glace at him and reutned a smile "yes you did! Keep up the good work!" You showed him a thumbs up and he did the same not noticng the jealous glances Kirishima got especially from Midoriya why couldn't you praise him he won too? He wondered

"Alright, listeners, it's time for round 3!" the Present mic announced "In this round, the contestants will be...mezou Shoji, Aoyama Yuga, Momo Yaoyorozu, Jirou Kyouka, and hitoshi shinsou!" The students then came out and went on the game podium all waving at you, Momo looked confident as if she knew she was gonna win this while the others looked determined ready for any questions

Round 3 was all right, nothing to extreme surprise. Momo had a score of 800, Jirou and Koda tied with 700 points, Aoyama with 600, and Shinsou with 500. "All right guys, this answer is worth 500 points!" Everyone's hand was on the buzzer, determined to answer this question: "Who was the 1st period ever recorded to have a quirk, and at what city?" Jirou pressed the button 1st, "Luminescent Baby who lived in Quing Quing City in China." Jirou managed to say, "Correct!" Jirou face lit up once she heard that she's actually going to the next round!

"Congratulations to our winner Kyouka san!" The present mic said, "Great job Jirou!" You cheered giving her a round of applause she blushed at the flattery and praise she thanked you avoiding your gaze everyone else glared in jealousy even momo bit her nail a bit too much

But Jirou was just like the others determined she always wanted to have a quiet evening with you just you she always loved being in your presence even if you don't even know she's there at times so imagining you and her watching your show together, holding hands, and even her confessing her love to you she already got the outfit to wear!

"Now onto the next and final round!" He announced, "Our final contestants are...Ojiro Mashsiro, Koda kouji, Tokoyami fumikage, Hakagure tooru, and Sato Rikido!" The students walled in adjusting themselves on the podium, Hakagure was waving and squealing at you trying to get your attention with dark Shadow waving his hand aggressively while Tokoyami blushed trying to calm himself down, Koda smiled and gave you a small wave, while Ojiro just smiled at you, clearing your throat once again and started the questions

The questions were a bit harder than the previous ones, heck you couldn't even know the answers or were just as confused as the other contestants as they made it to the last question Ojiro and Tokoyami had 700 points following behind was Koda with 600, and Hakagure and Sato with 500 points seriously what's with these ties? "The last question is worth 500 points is everyone ready?" Your classmates all look determined while Koda looks nervous

"What is the value of x when 2x + 3 = 3x – 4?" Koda quickly pressed the button you were suprised a bit since he's usually quiet about it "is it 7...?" You smiled and nodded "yes your correct!" Kodas eyes widen when he realizes he got the answer right

"Congratulations Koda! You're going into the special round!" Present mic cheered everyone else was just as shocked and envy Ojiro gave Koda a Good game! (Even tho he wanted to say something moren sinister) he kept his composer not wanting to act out infront of you, Hakagure whined and glared at Koda who sweat drops while dark shadow was complaining like a kid

"Now, everyone, are we ready for the Special round!" Present mic trying to hype up the class who was in the audience. They awkwardly clapped and secretly glared at them, "Midoriya, Kirishima, Jiro, and Koda, please step up!" Then students step up at the glittery podium labeled "special" Present mic got on his glittery suit as if he was waiting for the opportunity "Was he wearing that the whole time-"

"OK listeners welcome back to the special round!! This round will determine the true winner of the Ua and who will be taking home the f/s ticket! He said as he waved the ticket, "Now, this time, this question will be something from the classwork we worked on, so I hope you pay attention well!" Kirishima felt a sweat running down his face did he even study? He hoped he did. Jirou was a bit nervous but kept her determination; Koda was a whole lotta nervous thinking about the worst-case scenarios and "Is everyone ready? Remember to listen carefully!... what is the name of the young boy who wanted to be doctor Doolittle assistant?" Everyone thought for a moment barely remembering that lesson heck even you couldn't remember

That's when Koda hit the button to answer everyone stared at him intensity as if they were praying he got it wrong "uh...Tommy Stubbins?" Present mic checked the answer the room was getting more tense the longer he didn't say anything you were getting uncomfortable by how the room changes praying he just say the answer already "correct!" Confetti and Streamers rained down on the boy while he's processing what just happened

"Congratulations Kouji san you are the winner!!" Present mic announced as the cheering soundtrack came on "Congratulations koda!" You cheered as the other classmates reactions were mixed some glared jealousy at Koda while others were busy sulking in defeat..they lost their opportunity to be alone with you! But don't worry they'll find other ways~

Bonus: "that was a great show wasn't it!" You said excitingly as you walked out the building Koda looked a bit nervous like something was bothering him "y-yea! It was!" "Are you ok is something bothering you? You been feeling tense all throughout the show?" Koda quickly reassured you that he was fine and the crowd was only making him nervous that was all that made you ease up a bit

"yea it can be overstimulating most of the time you wanna hang out un my room to ease down your nerves?" Koda blushed and nodded taking the opportunity to spend more time with you but the truth is he wasn't nervous about that he was nervous about him and the others getting caught cause of how obvious they were all glaring jealousy at the boy but no matter it was worth it anyway~

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candycandy00 · 3 months ago

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Come Find Me - A Hawks x Reader x Dabi Horror Fanfic

You’re dating your childhood friend Touya, and things are going well, until you’re kidnapped and drugged by a serial killer named Keigo.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dark Content. Noncon/Rape via drugging and Dubcon. Humiliation. Voyeurism. This is a dark, disturbing fic!

Written for the Halloween challenge in the X Reader Lovers Community! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You step out of your parents’ house, closing the door behind you and making sure your phone is crammed into your small purse. As you step off the porch and into the driveway, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your next door neighbor and childhood friend Touya crossing over into your yard.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he asks, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things at the store for mom,” you reply.

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, looking around. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Want me to go with you?”

You smile at his concern. The two of you are both in college, but still live in your childhood homes for now. Partly because you’re hesitant to separate. You’ve been in love with him since you were children, and only recently confessed your feelings to him. In true Touya fashion, he’d scoffed, looked away, and blushed before quietly admitting that he felt the same way.

You’re still trying to navigate this new dynamic in your relationship. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so far, and only had your first kiss three days ago as the two of you sat on your bed watching a movie. Despite being adults, you feel like teenagers sneaking around. Touya suggested taking a weekend trip just to have some privacy. You’re excited for what might happen when you’re truly alone together.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’m just going to the convenience store down the street.”

He frowns. “Yeah, but with those rumors going around…”

“I’ll take mom’s car, okay? Seriously, I’ll be fine. We used to walk to that store all the time when we were kids, remember?”

You understand his concern. For the past few months, women around your age have been turning up dead, their bodies butchered in horrific ways. Rumors have been going around that they all had one thing in common besides being in their early twenties.

All of them had high levels of Cupid’s Arrow in their system.

Cupid’s Arrow is a new, very dangerous drug that you had zero interest in until the rumors started. After all, you’ve never tried anything stronger than some cheap weed Touya bought from a friend when you were both teenagers. And Cupid’s Arrow is powerful, with terrifying effects.

Anyone given Cupid’s Arrow will immediately develop an intense romantic and sexual obsession with the first person they see after taking it. The effect is so strong that the user will do literally anything to please the object of their obsession, even if it results in great harm.

Apparently, some couples who are into more extreme activities like to try using it, and some couples have used it as a way of proving their trust in each other. And of course, like with all things, there are people who use it to abuse others, basically turning people into their own brainwashed sex slaves.

The idea of these poor women being given the drug, being abused in some disgusting way, and then murdered while still on the drug, disturbs you greatly. The poor things probably laid there and let the killer chop them up, all the while looking at him adoringly. The thought sends shivers down your spine.

Still, the women were all found near the city, not out in the suburbs where you live. And the store is close by. What kind of life is it if a grown woman can’t go to a store by herself?

You give Touya a kiss on the cheek and climb into your mom’s car. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him.

He still looks worried as he watches you pull out of the driveway, throwing his hand up in somewhat awkward wave.

The drive there is brief and uneventful, and the small store is uncrowded. You quickly gather up the items your mom needed and a couple of snacks for yourself, then start toward the front to check out. That’s when you remember Touya waiting for you, and decide to pick up something for him.

You head back down the snack aisle again, barely noticing the other person walking down it. You stop and look over the various bags and packages until you spot the strawberry pocky Touya loves. You smile to yourself as you reach out to grab the last pack. Suddenly, another hand is reaching toward the pocky, brushing against your own.

You draw back, looking at the man standing next to you. He’s just a few inches taller than you, with wavy dark blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes.

“Oh, sorry!” he says, his face breaking into a friendly smile. He’s very good looking, though you think Touya is much hotter.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, returning the smile, “you can have it.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you take it,” he says, flashing a grin.

You blink at the pet name, but decide to quickly make it clear that you’re taken. “I was just picking them up for my boyfriend. I can get him something else.”

If he’s deterred at all by your comment, he doesn’t show it. Instead he grabs the pack of pocky and casually tosses them into your basket. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m hungry for something different anyway.”

You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive or nice, so you give him an uneasy smile and nod before walking to the counter to pay, leaving him to continue browsing the snacks.

When you step out into the cool evening air, you sigh as you hear your phone chime. You hope it’s not a message from your mom, adding another item to the list. You shift your bags to one arm and then dig your phone out of your purse, pausing in the middle of the parking lot to look at the screen.

You smile. It’s a message from Touya, asking how the shopping trip is going. He really does worry too much.

“Just leaving the store,” you type back. “See you soon.”

Just as you start to drop your phone back into your purse, you suddenly sense movement behind you. But before you can turn to look back, a white cloth covers your mouth and nose. You smell a strange chemical odor as your body becomes weak. Your bags, phone, and purse drop to the ground.

A familiar, friendly voice at your ear says, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m taking you home with me.”

You want to fight, to struggle, but all strength has left your body. You’ve gone limp in his arms, and now, darkness overtakes you.

When you wake up, you have no idea how much time has passed, and even less idea of where you are. It looks like the living room of a nice apartment, but it’s entirely unfamiliar to you.

Blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you begin to notice other things. You’re sitting on a couch, still fully clothed, and your arms are tied behind your back with a very thin rope. You jerk against it, trying to pull free, but the knots are too strong. Your heart is racing and your head is pounding as you try to remember how you got here, to force the grogginess from your mind.

You remember being at the store, paying for your items, then… someone grabbed you from behind! And now you remember the voice you heard. It was the handsome stranger from the snack aisle! Did he seriously kidnap you?

As if the thought summoned him, he appears in a doorway, walking into the living room. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he says in that same friendly tone, as if he’s still chatting with you about pocky. He’s wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. He looks good in them, and it makes you wonder why someone who looks like him has to resort to kidnapping women.

Oh yeah, stuff like this is about power. He probably has no interest in girls who want him.

“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. If there’s even a slim chance you can convince him to let you go, it’s worth trying.

He smiles in an easy going way as he leans back against the wall. “Come on, it has to be obvious by now.”

The words, spoken so charmingly, send a jolt of fear through your heart. You look him in the eyes. “Are you going to rape me?”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s such a nasty term. The idea of holding down a struggling woman just doesn’t appeal to me. I want you to enjoy it too.”

You try to keep your voice even, rational. “I can’t enjoy it though. I have a boyfriend, remember?”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll forget all about him as soon as I give you this.”

From his pocket, he pulls a small clear vial of liquid. Then he walks over to a small end table you hadn’t noticed before and picks up a syringe. You feel your heart drop to your feet as a sense of dread washes over you.

“What is that?” you ask, already suspecting the answer but unable to process the terrible truth until he says it.

“You’ve heard of Cupid’s Arrow, right?” he asks, still acting so friendly.

“Please don’t do this!” you cry, jerking on the ropes again.

He steps closer as he fills the syringe. “It’s okay! Once you take this, you’ll enjoy everything I do to you. You’ll beg for my cock. You’ll want me inside you every minute of every day,” he says, standing over you and looking down with a sultry gaze. “And I’ll make sure I keep you satisfied.”

“No!” you shout, fighting against the ropes, trying to draw back away from him.

He presses one knee into the couch beside you and holds the syringe in front of your panicked face. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

You look up at him, tears dripping down your face. “Please… don’t! I don’t want this! I have someone I love,” you plead, your last hope being to appeal to his mercy. “I’m… I’m saving myself for him! So please…”

He pauses, a flicker of surprise on his face. Then he smiles. “In that case, I’ll be real gentle with you the first time. I’ll take good care of you.”

You’re shaking your head as he grips your shoulder, holding you steady. “Please please… don’t do this!”

As you feel the needle pierce your skin and a cold sensation flow into your body, you cry out the name of the person you wish you could see just one more time. “Touya!”

You black out again, slumping over on the couch with your hands still tied behind you. When you wake up the second time, your hands are free, but your arms are sore. You’re still wearing the same clothes you wore to the store. You try to get up from the couch, but a wave of dizziness washes over you, forcing you to sit back down.

After giving yourself a moment for your head to clear, you slowly stand back up. You have to find a way out of here before he comes back. If you don’t look at him, the drug won’t activate. If you can just find a place to hide until it wears off, you’ll be in the clear!

Carefully, while keeping your eyes on the floor and only occasionally glancing up at your surroundings, you navigate around the coffee table and out of the living room, to the small foyer and the front door. You try to open it, but it’s locked. Of course it is. You check the knob, but there’s some sort of electric lock device that requires you to input a code.

Maybe there’s a back door? Or a balcony? If this is an apartment, and it’s on a low enough floor, maybe you could climb over and take your chances with a fall. A broken ankle would be better than whatever this man has planned for you.

He’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer. You’re sure of it. You still remember the report you read about one of the women they found. She was the same age as you, in college like you. And she’d been completely gutted, all her insides on the outside, her naked, butchered body tossed by the side of a road.

You head back through the living room, toward the back row of curtains. The balcony must be there! Just before you reach them, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body and pull you back.

“Where are you wandering off to?” he asks, his tone as cheerful as ever. He turns you to face him, and you slam your eyes shut.

“Come on, sweetheart, look at me,” he says, dragging you back toward the couch.

You shake your head, screaming “I’d rather die!” You struggle and squirm in his arms, desperate to get free, but his grip is strong.

“Don’t say that,” he says with a light chuckle, as if your battle to escape is amusing. He pushes you down onto the couch, on your back, and you feel him climb on top of you to hold you down with his body. He smells like expensive cologne, the kind of trendy stuff Touya would never wear.

“Open your eyes,” he says, his voice finally taking on a slightly firm tone.

You shake your head again. “Never!”

He sighs. “I’m not so bad, right? I’m hot, I’m clean, I’m funny, and I know how to please a woman. I can make you cum until you pass out. I see the way chicks look at me. They want me. You’re pretty lucky!”

Tears are leaking out of your closed eyes. “But you’re not the man I love! I don’t care how hot you are, or any of that other stuff! I just want to be with Touya!”

He goes quiet, not speaking. Is he just waiting for you to give out and open your eyes? Or is he considering your words? Without seeing the expression on his face, you can’t tell. “Why are you even doing this? If women want you, why use the drug?”

There’s a pause, then he answers. “You’ve never seen anyone under the effects of Cupid’s Arrow, have you? Most people haven’t. It’s hard to describe how incredibly hot it is, to have someone be completely devoted to you, obsessed with you, to have someone dedicate their whole life to pleasing you. When a pretty girl is crying her eyes out because she spilled a single drop of my cum out of her cute little mouth, it just does something to me.”

You sob, realizing he’s not going to let you go, and understanding what he’s going to be doing to you. All the things you wanted to experience with Touya, you’re going to be doing them with this stranger.

You hear him sigh again. “I really hate using force, but you’re leaving me no choice here.”

His fingers are now on your face, prying open your right eyelid. You scream and buck, trying to shake him off you, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. You’re forced to look at his handsome, friendly face.

The effect is immediate. Your body craves him instantly, powerfully. You stare up at him with both eyes open as he climbs off you and stands up.

You sit up, your eyes drawn to him.

“Stand up,” he says, “and take off your clothes.”

Your body obeys, standing up from the couch and peeling off your shirt. As you strip off the rest of your clothing, you realize this nightmare is even more horrific than you thought.

Because you’re still aware of everything. You know you’ve been drugged, you know you don’t love this man, you know you don’t want to do these things with him. You know you love Touya.

But your body is seemingly acting on its own. It wants him, wants his touch, wants to make him happy. Even as your mind screams at the humiliation of being stark naked in front of this stranger, your body heats up with excitement. With horror, you realize you’re already dripping wet. It’s a sensation you’ve only ever felt while thinking of Touya, and it makes you feel sick now.

When he steps closer, every cell in your body wants to reach out to him, to feel his skin. But you remain still, waiting for him to give another command.

He reaches out one hand and brushes your hair back from your face. Just that subtle touch leaves you breathless.

“So pretty,” he says, his golden eyes traveling up and down your body. You’ve never been more embarrassed! He takes one of your hands and leads you out of the living room, down a short hall and into a bedroom.

You know what’s going to happen, and you’re equal parts horrified and aroused. Your mind at war with your body. You open your mouth to speak, to beg him to let you go, but instead of the words you want to say, completely different words flow out of you.

“Please, take me,” you say, your voice a desperate plea. “I can’t wait any longer!”

He smiles, and your heart skips a beat. He’s so hot, with such beautiful eyes… no! These aren’t your thoughts! The drug is making you think these things!

“Just give me a minute,” he says, “and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never imagined.”

With that, he steps back from you and pulls off his shirt. His body is well toned, his skin smooth but for the thin trail of blonde hair leading from his navel down under the waistband of his jeans. Oh god, you want him so badly! Your juices are dripping down your thighs as you look at him. But it’s just the drug. You know that.

He pushes you onto the bed, your back against the mattress, then climbs onto the foot of the bed, on his knees. He pushes your knees apart, spreading you open for his gleaming golden eyes to drink in. For once, the two warring sides of you have the same reaction: your heart racing wildly, but for very different reasons.

“I said I’d make you feel good, right? So just relax,” he tells you, his warm hands sliding under your ass to lift your hips up slightly as he bends forward, licking one stripe up your drenched pussy.

The pleasure is electric, shooting through your entire body with such a simple motion. It must be the drug. You squirm beneath him, arching your back, wanting more. And he gives you more.

His tongue pushes in between your slick folds, quickly finding your clit and licking it with the kind of expert precision you’d expect from a guy who bragged about how much he could make you cum. You’re engulfed in pleasure, even down to your curling toes, as his lips surround the delicate nub and suck on it softly, his tongue circling the tiny tip. You’ve never felt anything so amazing in your life.

And you hate it. Because he’s not Touya. Because he’s doing all this against your will. Because forcing you to enjoy it all with drugs only fucks up your mind even more.

When you cum, trembling and gasping, you feel ashamed, like you betrayed the man you really love. Tears leak out of your eyes, either from being overwhelmed by pleasure or some remnant of your true feelings. The stranger raises up and brushes them away with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he tells you in a sweet voice. “Just let yourself feel it.”

His kindness makes your heart flutter. This drug is making you fall in love with him! No, that’s unbearable! He’s taking your heart as well as your body!

He sits back on his knees in the bed, your legs still spread open before him, and unbuttons his jeans. You watch in breathless anticipation as he pulls his cock out. It’s a little longer than you expected, and much thicker. The girthy organ is already hard and glistening at the tip, ready to violate you.

You try to will your voice to scream, your hands to shove him away, your legs to close. But your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. Cupid’s Arrow saw to that.

The man pauses, looking down at your flushed, teary face. “Oh that’s right, I haven’t told you my name,” he says. You simultaneously have no interest in it and are dying to know. “It’s Keigo. So you know what to scream out while I’m fucking you.”

He says the last part with a wink. As if he’s being cute, and not about to rape you. It nauseates you. “Please,” you say, your voice not belonging to you, “fuck me, Keigo!”

His eyes light up with excitement as he pulls your body down the bed, closer to him, lining himself up with your entrance. “I said this before, but I promise I’ll be gentle with you, since it’s your first time.”

You want to sob. This was supposed to happen with Touya! All you can do is close your eyes and try to block this all out as you feel him ease his way into you. As promised, he’s gentle, going very slowly and carefully. The drug is making you love it, making you want all of him inside you, filling you up completely.

He’s stroking your hair lovingly, kissing your lips as his firm body brushes against yours. He looks so good above you, his hair falling into his eyes as he gazes down at you, his hard cock gradually pushing further into your wet, eager pussy. But you don’t want this!

Your arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer as he finally bottoms out inside you, the stretch giving just the right amount of pleasant sting. He waits for a moment, looking into your eyes, then kisses you deeply as he begins thrusting. His tongue is in your mouth, invading it, just as his cock is invading you. His thrusts are slow and deep, intimate in a way that horrifies you.

This isn’t a simple fucking. Even a virgin like you can tell that much. The way he’s taking his time, maintaining eye contact, caressing your body… he’s making love to you. It’s so much worse than if he’d just dragged you into an alley, fucked you, and left you behind. Because this is agonizingly slow, and it’s a violation of everything you are.

This is going to break your mind.

Tears are coming out again, despite your moans and cries of pleasure. Keigo pauses and wipes your tears again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

The question makes you want to scream. Is he really this delusional? But you smile up at him against your will and say, “No, it just feels so good!”

He smiles. “I’m glad. I want you to feel good,” he murmurs between kissing you, going back to thrusting into you again, this time a bit harder. “I want you to feel nothing but good, forever.”

One of his hands slides down between your bodies, his fingers finding and stroking your swollen clit. Your body twitches, arching against him, your breaths hitching. “Ahhh… Keigo!”

You’ve never felt anything like this, nothing so incredibly powerful. Your pussy clenches around him, desperate for him to cum inside you, your arms are around his neck, clinging to him like a true lover as he draws a second orgasm from your trembling body.

He stares at your face as you cum, and you’ve never felt more humiliated. A stranger is seeing all these intimate parts of you, when you only ever wanted to show them to Touya.

Keigo kisses you again, then plunges in deeply and releases his load, filling you up. You want to scream again, repulsed by the possibility of being impregnated by this monster. But your body craves it, hungers for his cum, clamps down on him to milk him completely.

True to his word, Keigo is gentle with you for the rest of the night, even as he fucks you three more times. It’s only the beginning of your nightmare.

************************************

Touya sits at his dad’s computer, one hand sweaty on the mouse and the other gripping his own knee strong enough to bruise it. He swallowed his pride and asked his asshole father for help after his girlfriend had been missing for three days. Being the son of the police chief had its advantages.

His father stands behind him as he clicks play on the video file. It’s security camera footage from the convenience store she went to, on the night she disappeared. Touya watches as she walks out of the store, bags in hand. She pauses and digs her phone out of her purse. Is that when he sent her a text?

Then a blonde man emerges from the store, goes up behind her, and holds something to her face. She struggles for a few moments, dropping all her stuff, then goes limp.

Touya feels like he’s just watched a video of his own death.

Someone took her, the love of his life, the girl he’s adored since he was five years old. For a man to take a woman by force this way, there’s no doubt he intends to harm her. The thought makes Touya’s blood boil.

“Who is he?” Touya asks, his voice low.

Touya’s father hesitates for a moment, as if he’s trying to think of the best way to say something terrible. Then he sighs and answers. “We don’t know his name, but we’ve seen him before, in other security footage.”

Touya turns around in the chair to look at his father. “Other footage? He’s been involved in other crimes?”

Again, a moment of hesitation before his father delivers the devastating answer. “He’s been seen grabbing other women this way. They were all found dead later. Touya, he’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer.”

Touya feels his heart stop, feels the entire world fall away as the words sink in. This man has her. He’s pumping her full of a drug that will turn her into his sex slave, which means he’s definitely raping her. Then he’s going to kill her in some grotesque and painful way. Touya can’t think of anything more nightmarish.

He wants to smash the computer, charge out of his house and track that blonde asshole down. But he takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. He’ll never find his girlfriend if he lets his rage blind him. She needs him now more than ever.

He’ll find her. Even if he has to turn the world upside down.

“No one knows who he is?” Touya asks.

His father shakes his head. “His face is never visible in the footage. We can’t ID him based on hair and build alone. He clearly knows what he’s doing.”

Touya turns back to the computer, rewinds the footage, and watches it again. It feels like stabbing himself in the heart, but he forces himself to watch it several more times, burning the image of the man into his brain.

For the next week, Touya sits in the parking lot of the convenience store, watching every person who goes in or out. If the killer came here once, he could come here again.

On the sixth night, Touya is beginning to lose hope when he spots him. A guy who looks just like the man in the footage parks a vehicle near the edge of the parking lot and walk into the store. Touya’s heart pounds as he watches the man come back out, carrying a couple of bags. The man is smiling to himself as he climbs into his car and pulls out onto the road.

Touya follows him, staying back far enough to avoid detection but close enough to see any turns the car makes. Eventually the bastard pulls into a high end apartment complex just inside the city. Touya parks far away, and watches from a distance as the man gets out of his car. He’s whistling to himself, the sound echoing in the parking garage, as he gets into an elevator.

As the doors close, Touya rushes over to see what floor the elevator stops on. Fifth floor! Touya sprints to the stairwell and hurries up the flights of stairs, hoping he’s fast enough to see which apartment the man goes into. He’s panting by the fourth floor, cursing himself for not working out more when his brothers invited him to the gym with them. But he reaches the fifth floor quickly, and carefully opens the door, peeking out around the edge, hoping to see the man without being seen himself.

To Touya’s surprise, the hall is empty. The man is nowhere to be seen. Was Touya too slow? That would probably mean he’s in one of the apartments closer to the elevator, right? Maybe he could knock on a few doors, pretend he’s looking for a lost pet.

Touya steps out of the stairwell and begins walking down the hall, passing several apartments and a maintenance room. Just as he gets close to the elevator, a white cloth suddenly closes over his mouth and nose. His mind races, remembering the images from the security footage, understanding that the same thing is happening to him.

“I don’t know why you’re following me,” a voice says, “but we’ll figure that out when you wake up.”

And then, everything goes dark.

When Touya wakes up, he finds himself in a hardback chair in a living room, his arms tied securely behind his back with thin but sturdy rope. His ankles are tied to the chair legs. He squints his eyes at the brightness of the lighting, trying to force himself to focus on his surroundings.

Before he’s fully alert, however, the blonde man walks into the room and sits on the couch, relaxing into it as if he’s entertaining a guest. He’s holding something in his hand, and it takes a moment for Touya to realize it’s his own driver’s license.

The man smiles at him in a friendly way. “So you’re Touya,” he says, as if he’s heard all about him. “It’s nice to meet you. I can guess why you’re here.”

It looks could kill, Touya would have murdered this man in seconds. “Where is she?”

“She?” the man asks, a phony innocent expression on his smug face.

Touya jerks against the ropes, then glares at the man again. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“Oh, you mean my new pet? She’s in the bedroom, all spread out for me, waiting for me to fuck her pretty little pussy.”

For one brief moment, Touya feels white hot rage fill every inch of his body. He yanks on the ropes so hard, it’s a miracle he doesn’t break his own bones. “Fuck you, you fucking loser! Can’t get a woman to let you fuck her without drugging her, huh?!”

The man laughs. “Before Cupid’s Arrow came along, I was fucking so many women I got bored. I wanted something more.”

“What? You think she loves you?!” Touya yells.

“To be honest, I don’t care if she actually loves me. All I care about is feeling loved. And she definitely makes me feel loved.”

Touya looks at him with disgust. “You’re fucking sick. Why kill all the others then? Didn’t they make you feel loved?!”

The man’s smile fades. “The problem with Cupid’s Arrow is that it wears off if I don’t keep injecting it. So when I ease them off the drug and they start screaming, well, I don’t feel so loved anymore. But,” he says, his eyes gleaming, “I heard a rumor that certain people, when given the drug long enough, are permanently affected by it. It never wears off even after they stop taking it.”

“So you’re just gonna keep kidnapping and murdering women until you find someone like that?” Touya asks, his patience growing thin.

The man grins. “Oh, I don’t have to do that anymore. I found her.”

Touya’s eyes widen. “You’re fuckin’ lying.”

“I haven’t given her the drug in three days. It should be out of her system by now, but she’s still completely obsessed with me.”

Touya gives him a murderous stare. “I don’t believe you.”

The man is still grinning. “Why don’t I show you? I’m sure she’s crying by now, thinking I’m neglecting her. She probably doesn’t even remember you at this point, but I’ll let you see her, since I’m such a nice guy.”

He turns his head toward the doorway leading to a short hall. “Sweetheart, come in here! We have a guest!”

Touya’s eyes are glued to the doorway, desperate to see her, to confirm she’s still alive, but terrified to see what’s been done to her.

She appears like an angel, positively glowing. She’s wearing nothing but frilly pink panties and bra, something she would never choose for herself. Touya grew up with her. Of course he’s seen the plain straps of her sports bra and the occasional glimpse of her striped cotton panties.

As she steps into the room, her eyes fall upon Touya, and she seems to freeze for a moment. Touya sees it, the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the flash of relief to see him again, then the horror she must be feeling to know that he’s going to witness whatever this monster has been doing to her.

Touya knows, because he researched Cupid’s Arrow extensively after finding out who had taken his girlfriend. He knows that many people reported still being aware of everything while under its influence. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

She walks over and sits beside the man on the couch, no longer looking at Touya. “Keigo~” she purrs, “come to bed!”

So his name is Keigo. The sick fucker. He wraps an arm around her. “But I have a guest. Why don’t we put on a little show for him?”

There it is again, a look in her eyes that Touya is sure only he would recognize. Her facial expression is cheery and excited, but her eyes show her true feelings.

Keigo gives her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Come on, sweetheart. You know what I like when I get home.”

She giggles, and it sounds so different from her normal, genuine laugh that it makes Touya’s stomach churn. Then she slides off the couch and to her knees in front of Keigo. She doesn’t look back at Touya anymore, only focusing on opening Keigo’s pants and pushing her head forward. From this angle, Touya can’t see every detail, but it’s obvious that she’s sucking Keigo off. The wet, slurping sounds fill the room.

Touya turns his head, unable to watch.

“Hey,” Keigo says, “she’s working so hard to put on a show for you. It’s rude not to watch!”

“Fuck you!” Touya yells, still not looking.

Keigo grins. “Maybe later. I have more Cupid’s Arrow on hand.”

Touya feels like gagging. The thought of being forced to be intimate with this asshole disgusts him. Then he remembers that she’s been suffering that exact fate for over a week.

“If you don’t watch,” Keigo says, “I’ll make her do something gross or painful. If I tell her to, she’ll eat literal shit from the toilet. Or I could make her pluck out one of her own eyes.”

Feeling more enraged than ever, Touya looks at the couple, watching his girlfriend’s head bob on this monster’s cock. His eyes meet Keigo’s. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you for this.”

Keigo suddenly grips her hair. “Ahh, just a minute Touya, I’m cumming in your girl’s mouth.”

Touya jerks at the ropes again. This time, it feels like the one on his left wrist is a little looser.

Keigo is patting her head. “Good girl, you didn’t spill a drop.”

She glances back at Touya, and her eyes are wet, but she doesn’t say anything.

He looks straight at her. “It’s okay, baby. I know you don’t wanna do this. I know this pathetic asshole drugged you. I’ll get you out of here, I promise!”

Keigo stares at him for a moment, his eerie golden eyes sharp. Then he suddenly claps his hands once as if he just had a great idea. “I think I’ll do you both a favor, since I’m in a good mood! Sweetheart, crawl over there and suck Touya’s cock.”

Touya feels like his blood just froze in his veins. “Don’t make her do this!” he shouts.

She looks at Touya, and though her eyes look mortified, her lips curve up into a smile. “Of course, Keigo. Anything you want!”

She crawls across the floor to Touya, looking him in the eyes. When she reaches him, her hands slide up his thighs and find his belt, unbuckling it and then opening his pants.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you. But it’s almost over.”

She has no reaction to his words, instead reaching into his pants and pulling out his soft cock. “Aww, it’s not hard yet,” she says.

Touya thinks this situation is just about the least sexy thing he can imagine, but her soft hands wrap around him and begin gently stroking. This is too cruel. Touya has dreamed of being touched this way by her since he was a teenager, and now it happens in the worst way possible for both of them.

When she begins licking his tip, his cock starts to stiffen. It’s purely a physical reaction to the stimulation of her touch, but it makes him feel ashamed. He doesn’t want her to think this clear violation of her is actually turning him on.

She takes him into her mouth, her sweet, pillowy lips gliding up and down him, drenching him in her saliva. He can’t help thinking of that day, sitting on her bed, when she kissed him. He’d wanted to go further, and was sure she did as well, but her parents were downstairs and the thought of them walking in was too awkward.

His idea had been to plan a weekend getaway for just the two of them. Now he wishes he’d just gone for it, because he hates for this to be their first intimate moment together.

Regardless, his body is responding to her, even though he’s nowhere near in the mood. And after several minutes, he feels his climax approaching. She must feel it too, because her lips clamp around his base as he cums. She sucks him dry, swallowing every drop, then finally pulls away and stands up, walking back over to Keigo.

“So who’s cum tasted better?” Keigo asks her.

She sits down beside him and snuggles up to him. “Yours did of course!”

Touya pulls on the rope again, acting as if he’s just blindly jerking on it out of rage, but the left wrist is getting looser. If he can just work it a bit more…

“Oh, but you haven’t been satisfied yet, have you sweetheart?” Keigo asks.

Touya knows where that question is leading, and feels his heart sink. He has to get his hand free, and fast!

Keigo grins right at Touya as he tells her, “Why don’t you ride my cock like you usually do?”

*******************************

If you could kill Keigo, you would. But your body doesn’t belong to you. He’s already made you do suck horrifically embarrassing things in front of Touya, you could die of shame. And now he wants more?

This is the worst possible scenario you could imagine. To have the love of your life watch you do these things with another man is nothing short of a nightmare. Any joy you felt at seeing him again was replaced with terror. Is Keigo going to kill him?

Your body stands up and faces Keigo, but he turns you around to face Touya. He clearly wants to torment both of you. He slides your panties down and you step out of them. Touya averts his eyes.

“Now, now, Touya,” Keigo says, “What did I say about you not watching?”

This monster is using threats to force Touya to watch. Your face burns when Touya’s beautiful blue eyes shift back to you. He has an apologetic expression. Somehow he knows you’re aware of everything. He knows you’re still in here.

With your beloved boyfriend watching, you ease back into Keigo’s lap. You can feel his erection pressing against you. Despite your shame and horror, you rise up slightly and line him up with your entrance, then sink down onto his cock.

Keigo’s hands are on your thighs, keeping them spread open so Touya can see his cock plunging into your dripping pussy. Touya looks horrified, but under the drug’s influence, you begin riding Keigo, bouncing up and down on his meaty cock, moaning his name as if you love him.

Your eyes meet Touya’s, and his expression softens. “I love you,” he says. “Nothing this sick fuck does can ever change that!”

Oh, Touya! How you wish you could tell him how you feel!

Keigo slides one hand up your thigh and uses his fingers to spread your folds, then begins rubbing circles into your clit. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure.

“See, Touya?” Keigo asks. “I can please her better than you ever could. She likes having her clit played with, right sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you scream, riding him harder, your traitorous body chasing its climax. You’re so close! You lock eyes with Touya again as you say, “I’m… I’m…!” Your body wants to say you’re cumming, but for just this moment, staring into the eyes of the man you truly love, your heart wins out.

“I’m sorry, Touya!”

The words are forced out through your unwilling mouth as tears drip down your face. Touya’s eyes widen. Keigo pulls you off him and shoves you to the floor, clearly alarmed by your tiny spark of free will. Then, all at once, chaos erupts.

Touya’s hands snap free from behind him and he lunges across the room, dragging the chair still tied to his ankles along with him. He tackles Keigo to the floor and begins punching him with both fists. Keigo tries to block them with his arms but Touya’s unbridled fury overwhelms him, and soon Keigo’s face is a bloody mess. You watch in stunned silence. The drug is telling you to pull Touya off him, to try to help the man you’ve been forced to adore, while your heart is telling you to help Touya mangle him.

In the end, you do neither, and Keigo eventually stops moving. You know he’s dead before Touya even stops punching him.

The effect is immediate. Suddenly, you’re so obsessed with Touya that you want him to take you now, right next to Keigo’s bloody corpse.

Cupid’s Arrow is still in effect, but with Keigo dead, the target of your obsession is the next person you laid eyes on.

Touya pants for a few moments after killing Keigo, then flops over onto his ass and begins untying the ropes from his ankles. Every little movement he makes is beautiful to you.

To be honest, it’s not so different from how you viewed him before.

He quickly crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms. “It’s over, baby, I’ve got you!”

You look up at him with glistening eyes, then wrap your arms around his neck. “Touya! I love you so much!”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you. “It transferred to me, huh? I read about this. It’s okay, we’ll get you to a hospital and they can pump the drug out of your system! You’ll be okay!”

You try to kiss him, but he blocks you. “Touya,” you whine, “I’ve wanted you for so long! Please…”

“I want you too,” he says, “but not when you’re drugged. We’ll have plenty of time together after you’re better.”

You pout as he stands up and helps you to your feet. “Get dressed,” he tells you, and you follow his command as he searches the apartment for his phone, finding it on the kitchen counter and then calling the police.

The next few weeks are a blur. Keigo’s death is ruled as self defense, and you go through extensive testing and treatments at the hospital. They determine that you’re one of the rare people who are permanently affected by Cupid’s Arrow after having high doses injected for several days. The doctors say there’s a chance you’ll recover someday, and recommend that you stay near Touya for your own mental health, since the two of you already had a long relationship.

You’re not too bothered by it. Because you love Touya and you know he loves you.

But Touya is struggling. He finds it difficult to resist your advances, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. Even though you’ve tried telling him you really do want to be with him, he’s afraid it’s the drug talking. For weeks, he doesn’t touch you.

The first couple of times he wakes up to find you sucking his cock, he gently pushes you away. After seeing your distraught reaction however, he begins letting you continue until he cums in your mouth. He always looks at you with a guilty expression afterward, and it breaks your heart.

It’s two months after your rescue before he finally eats you out, after you spend days spread out on his bed, tearfully begging him to give you release.

Gradually, his resistance crumbles more and more, until he’s fucking you into the mattress every night, his face buried in your shoulder, murmuring, “I’m sorry!” over and over like a mantra.

You really do want him, but he doesn’t know it, and that uncertainty has him consumed by guilt. He thinks he’s doing the same thing Keigo did to you, and that haunts him, even as he thrusts into you so deeply that you see stars. Your cries of ecstasy might as well be cries of pain to him, and it eats away at his mind.

Maybe someday the effects of the drug will wear off, and you can tell Touya how much you love him, how much you want him every day. Until then, you can only watch him spiral into self loathing as your body sings with pleasure.

#hawks x reader x dabi #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #keigo x reader #dabi #hawks #touya todoroki #keigo takami #x reader #dabi smut #hawks smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #tw: rape #tw: drugs #dark content

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teethrottt-art · 2 months ago

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#teeth art #my art #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #fumikage tokoyami #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #tokotodo #todotoko #rarepair #denki kaminari #dark shadow #mha dark shadow

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baby-tini · 7 months ago

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Can you write where Dabi captures the reader and fucks her. But she thinks that if she would fight back it would hurt more so she just tries to close her eyes and disassociates. But Dabi sees this and not having it. He's like 'thanks for not fighting but your gonna stay with me while I fuck you. And since your so submissive I'll make you feel REALLY good'. Kisses her nose softly and proceeds to fuck her to almost a mind break.

A/N- sorry I've been M.I.A, I had the flu 😞 but thankfully it's gone and I'll be able too put out more content

TW- NONCON, abuse, brief mention of panic, self-blaming, blood, brief mention of a wound Being a hero was something you've always dreamed of, your whole family were heros. Your father was a pro and your mom was low-ranking but still amazing nonetheless. She only quit when she became pregnant with you, but your mother was an inspiration to you, always had been. So, when you graduated from UA and got your hero license it was the happiest day of your life. Your father took you to his agency, put in a good word for you. You were the shining star of his agency, climbing ranks pretty quickly and gathering a fan-base even quicker. Now, this wasn't your first patrol, but it was a new area. It sounded easy enough though, plus this was your first patrol without your father even though he had basically pleaded to come with you.. but this was your chance too show him you didn't need to be babied and you could protect yourself so you declined his offer and shut off your phone. You hadn't heard or seen any major villains in the area anyway. So, what could be so hard about walking around the city looking out for danger. Tokyo was so beautiful at night too, lovely pink sky tonight, no clouds in sight with birds soaring and chirping. It was so peaceful, you highly doubted that anything bad would happen

The air smelled pure, a nice beautiful breeze blowing your hair around, until... it started to smell smokey and your view of the rosy sky was obscured by azure flames, the extreme heat too close to your skin causing you to stumble backwards into a hard chest as a hand claps tightly against your mouth and nose. Cutting off the air flow to your brain and squeezing your cheeks together as your dragged into an alleyway away from the quiet street. You try to struggle against the man but you can't breathe and you're starting to panic, your nails clawing at his hand gather blood under them. You hear the man hiss in pain before your thrown into the brick wall, hitting your head off of it and falling to the floor as blood drips from the the on your temple. Trying to stand up proves to be more difficult then you thought as your vision turns blurry and your wound aches. You're gasping you realize, trying to suck in as much air as possible before you're kicked in the stomach and thrown a couple feet. You can't breathe in anymore as you groan out, the air coming out in choked huffs. Then he's on top of you, fisting at your hair as you try an' catch your breath, pushing at his chest but he just shoves you back down effortlessly. When your eyes do finally open, they're met by heated sapphire, staring you down and observing you. You quickly recognize the man, from the burn scars and blue flames, this probably the worst possible situation for you, you've heard of Dabi and he doesn't [lay very nice with people. "It's best if you stay down little hero, unless you want to be in the burn unit for awhile... that is if you don't turn to ash first." He laughs in your face, staples stretching as grins far too wide for it too not hurt. Your thrashing ceases at the threat and he hums at you, running a hand down your face wiping the blood from your head. "That's all it took to get you to behave? That's pretty sad, so obsessed with that pretty face you won't fight me?" You try and turn your face away from him but he just moves it back and stares you down, his eyes getting darker as he does so. "If you're.. gonna kill me just do it, I'm not giving you information," you breathe in between your sentence, trying to slow your heart rate. He mockingly pouts at that, before leaning towards your ear and breathing down your neck. "Oh, you are gonna give me something.. just not information doll." He counters, pulling away and sitting on your thighs and pulling up your shirt. You swallow, knowing exactly what he's insinuating, letting your head fall back on the concreate as you squeeze your eyes tight and go limp. He coos at you, pulling up your shirt above your breasts and pulling down your bra, so it sits below your tits. 'It's best too let it happen, maybe he won't kill you if you behave and keep quiet, he can't be for long since there will be other heros coming to patrol the area soon, it'll be over quick.' You chant in your head as you try to block out the sound of him unzipping his pants and the jingle of his belt being undone. Trying too escape into your head doesn't work for you though, when he notices that hazy look in your eyes as you go quiet, he slaps you across the face.

"I don't fucking think so, you think you can escape me using that little head of yours? You're gonna look at me while I fuck you and your gonna thank me after, you understand me?" You nod at him as you cradle your red, stinging cheek. Tears clouding your eyes as they become leaky with salty tears as you attempt to muffle your cries. He finishes undressing you, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your cunt before pumping his cock and slipping inside. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as his head falls back and he growls out in contentment. His hands shoot to your hips as he maneuvers one of your legs from underneath him and over his shoulder. "Fuckin' Christ you're tight, soft little pussy sucking my cock in so good, don't worry I'm not going anywhere," he mocks, a dark chuckle slipping from his lips as he starts to fuck into you. His pace has no rhythm as he just humps at your cunt, a spit-coded finger coming down to rub at your clit in messy circles, slapping at the sensitive bud a couple times when you try to look away from the intensity his eyes provide you with. He leans down and coos at you when you whine, kissing at your cheek and nose, grinning when you make no attempt at moving away. He's so rough, pounding at your cervix and panting in your ear, biting down on your neck. "Just like that, squeeze me tighter baby.. mm fuck- best pussy I've ever had, 'ts fuckin' crying for me... mmph, you might not like me but she sure does, I'll make sure to give 'er a little gift, hm? You think she'd like that? I think she would, I'll cum in you just for her, yeah?" You can't think anymore, head too cloudy as your senses become overstimulated from being fucked like a toy, fuck you really should' ve listened to your father and let him come with you, this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been so quick to go off on your own and act like a pro, your eyes start to close before you can pity yourself anymore and everything goes black.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months ago

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Yandere/Dark BNHA Texts: You file a restraining order against them

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

Includes: Bakugo, Hawks, Deku, Dabi, Shoto.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Obsession; Stalking.

AN: Trying a new thing, let me know if the photos have quality or not really. Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊

There's a typo in Dabi's text, pls ignore that 😫

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poppy5991 · 4 months ago

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Tokoyami: *crying*

Deku: He’s upset because you almost died! Say something! Anything!

Hawks: Pl-Plus Ultra?

Shoto: And here I thought Endeavor was the most emotionally stunted hero.

Hawks: I am here???

Dark Shadow: *shakes head in disappointment*

Shoto: This makes me feel like I was too hard on him. Look at the alternative.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha memes #mha incorrect quotes #hawks #endeavor #enji todoroki #shoto todoroki #deku #izuku midoriya #fumikage tokoyami #dark shadow

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eu0n1a · 4 months ago

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thinking about how the justice system will never do anything about your stalker.

"There's simply nothing we can do", they'd tell you.

"Do you have any evidence?", they'd tell you.

"On a walk at 11PM, are you sure you weren't imagining things? Maybe you're just paranoid?", they'd tell you.

Don't even try showing your face at the police station. A tall muscular figure, jumping from building to building. A prohero? God, how self-absorbed and delusional do you have to be to think some hero is chasing after you?

But after seeing your distressed face day after day, they're eager to get you off their back.

"You know what? We'll get a prohero to look into it and escort you if that makes you feel better"

It did make you feel better and it made him feel better as well. Seeing your pretty little face finally up close. No more needing to be sneaky about jumping from building to building. Ever since he escorted you home after a long day at work, you never felt the sensation of a stalker again. Things are sure looking up.

#drabble #headcanon #mha #bnha #pro hero #superhero #izuku midoriya #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku #male x reader #deku x reader #dark fantasy #nannowrites #bakugou katsuki #shoto todoroki

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artemis32 · 10 months ago

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Transilience iii

The long-awaited part 3 is here, thank you all for being so patient <33 (you're all going to hate me, but yes, there is going to be a part 4)

word count - 10.1k

tw: mentions of past child neglect, abuse, kidnapping, violence, medical malpractice (they're bad people, what did you expect??), LoV being bad people (mainly Shiggs and Dabi), slight yandere LoV (kind of, but not really), reader is delusional - like, very delusional - dismisses red flags like its nobody's business

mbe masterlist

transilience masterlist

Dabi was… different.

You’d given up what little hope you’d had of Touya still being there, but you didn’t expect there to be such a vast change in his personality.

How could someone who was once so obsessed with the idea of being a hero, of overtaking All Might, become this horrible? And really, there was no other way to describe him but horrible.

From the very first day that you’d been there, he’d done his utmost to isolate you from the other members of his group, whisking you away if they ever got too comfortable around you.

To their credit, none of them had laid a finger on you, though they hadn’t said anything when they saw the freshly burnt handprint on your shoulder either. It felt like a branding mark, a sign of ownership.

You remained wary of them, forever on edge. It became exhausting after a while – never breathing too loudly when one of them was near, hardly eating or sleeping. It got to the point where you nearly passed out from sheer exhaustion.

If he cared, Dabi never said anything.

The isolation was probably what got to you the most. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion – none of it felt as torturous as the loneliness. You weren’t allowed to talk to anyone but the leader, Shigaraki, and Dabi. Who’d decided that, you weren’t sure, but it ate away at your psyche day-by-day until almost nothing remained.

Most days, the only interaction you got was someone bringing your food to you. It was usually the man in the mask who had taken you – Mr Compress, or, you’d learned his name was, though sometimes it would be others in the group.

It was awful. They’d open your door and set a tray of food on the desk next to your bed.

They wouldn’t look at you.

They wouldn’t talk to you.

Nothing.

And you tried. You tried so hard to hold a conversation, to get them to say something, to look at you, but still, nothing.

Shigaraki’s visits were few and far between. Most days he came to see you, it would be to accompany the doctor he brought with him.

You didn’t like that man. He was cold and harsh, and he left bruises that would take weeks to fade away. He’d take samples of your blood too, poking you harshly with the needle if you squirmed too much.

Shigaraki said nothing. He only stood in the corner, silently staring at you.

It was the same when he came to see you alone. He’d come in quietly, sit down by your desk and stare at you for hours.

Sometimes he would speak, but those days were rare.

He’d ask you about your life before they’d taken you, before you’d gotten your quirk.

Originally, you had ignored him, but after weeks of isolation, you’d told him what he wanted to know. He smiled that day. It hurt.

Dabi’s visits were even rarer.

You thought you might dread his visits more than you did being alone.

He told you stories. Stories about his life – both while he’d been living with you, and after. You weren’t sure which you hated more.

While you’d understood how horrible your father was, to hear it first-hand, to hear from Touya himself what he’d gone through… it was almost more than you could handle.

Though right now, you’d take your father and his anger and violence. If you had a choice, you’d choose him over Dabi in an instant.

How pathetic – that you’d choose a monster like your father over your own brother, one who you’d looked up to, one who you’d mourned.

But that sort of thought had become surprisingly common. You’d been missing your family – Shouto, Fuyumi, Natsuo, even your father. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to miss your mother, and you were sure the feeling was mutual.

You tried as best you could, but nothing could stop your gradual descent into despair. You were so lonely, so scared that they’d decide you’d outlived your usefulness.

It was a shame that you were nothing like your family – you lacked Touya’s resolve, Shouto’s strength, even your father’s tenacity and anger. That would surely have helped you, but you were weak.

You were weak and scared, and even gaining a quirk had done nothing to change that.

****

If you had one complaint about how your days went, it had to be about the food they gave you.

It was plain, bland. Not to mention, you received the same thing every single day.

Plain oatmeal for breakfast, plain, dry bread for lunch, and plain, flavourless ramen noodles for dinner. If you were lucky, they’d occasionally throw in a bruised, overripe fruit, or give you of the takeout they’d had for dinner.

You’d gotten to the point of having to choke it down, trying not to gag whenever you saw the same food day after day. You wouldn’t call yourself ungrateful, but it was pretty obvious that no one knew how to cook. After the first two weeks, you’d liken the experience to eating cardboard, taking hours to pick at the plain, odourless lump on your plate before giving up.

That’s how Dabi found you thirty minutes after Mr Compress had bought you your dinner - picking at your plate with half-hearted interest, doing nothing more than moving the now solid pile of ramen from one side to the other.

He shoulders the door open without knocking, kicking it shut behind him with no regard for the slamming that rings out in the corridor beyond. Members of the League knew not to bother him when he was with you - everyone except Shigaraki.

A brown paper bag is chucked your way as he slinks over, slumping down in the chair next to your bed.

The sigh he lets out is one of exhaustion, and if you actually cared about him, you might’ve shown some concern for the weariness in his eyes and the weight on his slumped shoulders. But you don’t.

Instead, you stare down at the paper bag next to you.

“Well?” he asks when you make no move to touch it. “Aren’t ya gonna open it?”

You shrug, still staring.

“That depends.”

He huffs. “On what?”

“If I open it, do I get to leave this room?”

He lets out a frustrated groan, head leaning against the wall as he rubs his hands over his face.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “This again?”

After about the first month and a half of being cooped up in the room they’d shoved you in, you’d decided enough was enough. Seeing the same four walls all day, every day, was driving you insane. So you’d begun asking Dabi if you could be let out, even for a short ten minutes, just to walk around the base, to the end of the hall - anything.

Unsurprisingly, your request had been denied.

So you’d asked again. And again. And again.

It had become routine at this point, and though he had yet to agree, you felt as though you were slowly wearing him down.

Asking Shigaraki didn’t have the same effect. He’d fix you with this eerie, wide-eyed look, sitting in silence until you looked away or changed the topic.

So you stuck with asking Dabi instead, refusing to go along with whatever he asked of you unless you got what you wanted.

It seemed as though the two of you shared the same stubborn streak, and neither of you had given in yet.

“Yes, this again,” you say stubbornly, jutting your chin out at him.

“I’ll go crazy in here if you don’t let me out. It’s not as if I’m asking for a kidney, I just want to take a walk. Blindfold me if you have to, just let me out for a few minutes.”

He says nothing, staring at you for a moment.

“Please?” you ask – no, you plead.

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“Fine,” he says, sighing heavily, nodding slightly.

“Fine. I’ll let you walk around for a bit. There – happy?”

You perk up at that, nodding eagerly, happy for what you consider to be a small victory.

Honestly, considering the circumstances, it’s a massive victory. Any amount of autonomy is cause for celebration, and this was as good as it was going to get for a while.

“Are ya gonna open the bag or not? Or should I change my mind?”

“No! No, I’ll look.”

You scramble to grab the brown paper bag, ripping it open in your haste.

“A… burger?”

Indeed.

It’s a burger, and the smell makes your mouth water. You want to eat it, but you don’t. Instead, you look over at him, quirking your brow in question.

“Eat up, Cupcake,” he says with a smirk.

You scowl at the nickname. It was one in a sea of many – he seemed to sense how much it annoyed you, so he took great time and care in finding different nicknames for you each time he came to visit.

His smirk flattens into a scowl when you don’t immediately respond or go to eat.

“What’s this about?”

“Huh?”

“You only ever bring me food like this- You’re only nice if something’s about to happen. So, what is it?” you ask suspiciously.

He brings his hand up to grip at his chest, gasping in feigned horror.

“Oh! My own sister doesn’t trust me. Whatever shall I do?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Can I not just be nice? Why’re you so suspicious all the time, huh?”

You squint at him. “So… you really don’t want anything in return? You're not going to knock me out and move me to another room or something? You’re not going to run some kind of painful quirk test on me?”

His palm still rests on his chest, right over his heart. He bows his head and closes his eyes.

“Cross my heart. Come on, eat up.”

He stands with a huff, slinking over to your bathroom as you hesitantly begin eating.

There are some clattering sounds as he moves around the bathroom for a moment before it falls silent. He emerges fifteen minutes later, right as you finish the burger.

“Ah, you’re done. Great. Put this on.”

He hands you a jacket and a pair of shoes. You slip them on without question.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Go where?” you ask, palm rubbing contentedly over your full stomach.

“For your damn walk, what else?”

“Now?” you ask, mouth open in shock.

He hums, coming up to you and grasping your forearms before hauling you up.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You stand and trail after him.

****

“Still nothing?”

Hawks hums, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he says with a shrug.

Endeavour lets out a frustrated huff, slamming his hand down on the desk. Everything atop it rattles.

His frame remains tense for a moment before his shoulders slump.

“We’ve checked everywhere,” he says in an even, measured tone. “Why, after six months, have you still not found my daughter?”

Hawks gives him a good-natured smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. “Hm, dunno. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

The temperature of the room steadily climbs the longer Hawks talks.

“After all, it’s been a while. Surely if she wanted to get away from wherever she is, she would have by now, what with that nifty new quirk and all.”

At the mention of your strangely acquired quirk, Endeavour finally cracks. His fingers melt through the surface of his desk, the ornately carved wood caving beneath his warm grip like butter. The look on his face betrays his emotions – it’s a look of pure pain, what with his furrowed brow and quivering lip.

The mighty Endeavour did have a heart after all.

He slumped down into the seat behind him, roughly swiping over his face with calloused palms.

“I–” his voice cracks.

He clears his throat, sniffing and straightening up before he speaks again.

“Hawks, please, be honest.”

Keigo tilts his head to the side, eyeing the redhead curiously.

“Have you done everything in your ability to find my daughter? Does she– does she truly not want to be found?”

He lets out a heavy puff of air, carefully taking a seat across from the distraught man. After a few long, quiet minutes, he finally settles into a seemingly comfortable position, leaning back with one leg propped up over the other.

“I’ve done everything I can,” he says, looking directly into the other man’s eyes. He places his hand over his heart – a gesture of his sincerity. “I haven’t seen her – she really doesn’t seem to want to come back. That, or…”

He shrugs. “Never mind. I’m sorry Endeavour, but there’s nothing more I can do. I’ve helped as much as I can because we’re friends, but I can’t keep neglecting my own work for this.”

The chair scrapes harshly against the polished tiles as he stands, dusting off his jacket while he strides to the door.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything. For now just… relax.”

Hawks leaves the man to wallow in his ever-growing despair.

****

Your legs burn slightly from the stretch, but you welcome it as you pace each corridor eagerly, Dabi trailing a few steps behind you with a slouched frame and barely concealed scowl.

He’d made it clear that he thought your eagerness to go for something as silly as a walk was stupid, but he’d kept many of his comments to himself, choosing instead to mutter under his breath as he directed you through the dimly lit base.

“Left here.”

You turn left, trying to keep yourself from skipping like an idiot. It was one thing to be excited for a walk, but to skip like a child? Dabi would never let you live that down.

The corridors are as dingy as the rest of the building, flickering lights, cracked tiles, chipped paint on the walls. It truly looked like the prison it was.

Oh well. It wasn’t as if you expected any better from a group of villains, especially those that had kidnapped someone without a second thought.

“So, what exactly do you do?” you ask, eyes still flitting from one side of the corridor to the other, taking in as much as you can while you have the opportunity.

“What?”

Dabi sounds bored. He drags his feet as he walks, shoes scuffing against the worn tiles.

You shiver. It’s freezing out here. A part of you was thankful that Dabi had given you the shoes and jacket. Not that you’d ever mention it.

“I mean, I get that you guys are villains and all, and you spend your days coming up with ideas on how to take over the world, but like – what do you do?”

You chance a glance over your shoulder.

He looks perplexed, lips pursed as he stares at you.

“What a dumb question.”

You splutter out in indignation.

“Hey, it’s not a dumb question!”

He hums, staring at the ceiling.

“Take a right.”

You do, waiting in silence for his response.

“We make deals, gather intel, threaten a few people – fun stuff like that.”

He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“I don’t know, that’s about it I guess.”

You pause.

“Sounds boring,” you say with a shrug.

He grunts, prodding the small of your back with his fingers to urge you forward.

“Keep walking.”

You walk past a familiar looking door.

There’s a slight stumble in your step and Dabi has to grab your arm to keep you from landing on your face.

“Come on,” he says, shoving you forward roughly. “Don’t make me regret this by acting all stupid.”

You nod in apology, eyes lingering on the door.

That day you arrived is still stark in your memory – the way they all laughed at you, the fear and anxiousness you’d felt.

Shigaraki and his touch.

The way he’d turned your jacket to dust with a simple brush of his fingers.

Dabi.

Touya.

The mark seared onto your shoulder.

You shiver again, though not from the cold.

The memory of your first night there opens the floodgates, and you’re forced down memory lane as you walk, Dabi’s hand still a warm fixture between your shoulder blades.

You remember the first time Shigaraki came to visit you. You remember the first time he truly hurt you.

You remember what he made you do with your quirk – the quirk shoved upon you, one you’d give up in a heartbeat for the chance to escape this place, to go back in time and be thankful for your lack of quirk.

But would you?

Yes, everything that had happened to you was horrible, and you woke up everyday praying it was some kind of sick nightmare, but would you really give up your quirk in exchange for your freedom?

It was something you’d battled with for a while now.

Would you rather be here, locked up and used as a lab rat, or would you choose to go back to your family and crawl back into their cold, unaccepting arms?

No matter how you looked at the situation, there was no lesser evil amongst the two.

The thought made you laugh to yourself whenever it crossed your mind.

Had you truly reached the point where you lumped your family, your own flesh-and-blood, together with a group of villains?

Yes.

They were one and the same.

Your father, your siblings – your mother.

Everything about them shunned your existence.

If they weren’t overwhelming you, they acted as if you didn’t exist.

You wondered, not for the first time, if they were looking for you – did they miss you? Did they even realise you’d been kidnapped?

Thinking about it - them - got you nowhere.

Your family.

Family.

The word didn’t exactly fit.

The League… They treated you similarly.

They hurt you, physically, mentally, emotionally. They ignored you when you served no purpose to them or their cause. They overwhelmed you, they controlled you when they felt like it.

Dabi – he was the epitome of both.

Both your family and the League, but especially Dabi – they had a certain intensity about them when they looked at you, when they thought you couldn’t see them.

It scared you more than their insults, more than their fists, more than their distain.

They looked at you as if they wanted to consume you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a look of crazed, unwavering mania. Obsession. But if that was the case, you wouldn’t be beaten and bruised, or locked up in a cage like some sort of pet meant for display.

You shake your head, trembling hands clutching at the bottom of the zip up Dabi had given you.

When did it get this cold?

Dabi distracts you from your thoughts, fingers harshly digging into your side, guiding you roughly down a corridor towards your right.

He tuts at you.

“Pay attention.”

He comes to walk beside you, reaching his arm around you to lay it over your shoulder.

You stiffen up.

The palm of his hand sits perfectly against the scar that sits in the juncture between your neck and shoulder – the one he’d given you.

Having a doctor on hand to run tests on your quirk wasn’t as reassuring as you might have hoped. It meant that no matter what any of them did to you, it could be fixed, and you’d be left with nothing but the mental scars as proof.

The scar Dabi had given you though – that they let you keep.

It had taken a while to heal enough for you to touch it, and you’d spent a few days after delirious with pain. But now, months later, it was fine.

Or, it should be.

But the mental scars from Dabi ran far deeper than anything else you’d been through since they’d taken you.

You hated it when people touched you.

It was the only scar you were allowed to keep, but you wished they’d rid you of it like they did with everything else.

The floodgates of your mind seem to open, the palm on your shoulder acting as a key, and you’re helpless to stop the painful barrage of memories you try so hard to suppress.

****

The first test they’d ever run on you had been the most painful to date. A large part of you had blocked out the memory, too overwhelmed to remember it in anything but short snapshots and glimpses.

You’d been strapped to a medical gurney, probably the most uncomfortable one the League could find.

The cold metal left you covered in goosebumps and shivers that had done nothing to deter the panicked sweat enveloping you, leaving your palms clammy and shaking.

Worse than being restrained and prodded with needles had to be the duration. They’d left you like that for three weeks.

Evidently, they hadn’t felt it necessary for you to eat either, deciding instead to shove a thick feeding tube down your throat. Similarly, you weren’t allowed to sit up or use the bathroom. You weren’t allowed to do anything.

They left you in a drugged haze after the third day, growing tired of your struggles and cries.

And that’s how you spent the first three weeks with the League. Completely exhausted and mentally checked out, staring blankly at the ceiling day in and day out, never so much as twitching a finger as they performed invasive surgeries you were too delirious to feel.

You’d flatlined more times than you care to remember, your heart rate dropping to a monotonous beep.

Blood filled your lungs after they’d punctured the thin membrane.

Your face turned blue from the lack of oxygen after you’d choked on the feeding tube.

You’d had multiple seizures mid-surgery from a number of malpractices.

In the end, you don’t remember much of what had happened. All you recall is waking up out of a daze surrounded by cold, impartial doctors, and being forced to carry on as if nothing had happened.

It was probably better that way. You had a feeling you didn’t want to know the entire truth of what had happened while you were all but comatose.

And beyond that, the training they’d put you through to improve your quirk was just as bad, if not worse.

You imagined that training with your father would have been similar, in that you received painful, unwarranted punishments for failure of any kind.

The only saving grace was that your quirk had improved significantly since the League had taken you.

You clung to that when despair crept up on you. You had a quirk.

Somehow, it didn’t feel as wonderful as you’d hoped it might have years ago.

****

Eventually, Dabi drags you to a halt and out of your thoughts, grasping your forearm with a grip so harsh you’re sure it’ll bruise. If they’ll allow it.

The two of you have stopped before a large set of metal doors. They reflect the flickering lights and make your eyes water. You’re confused – this isn’t your room. Why did he not take you back to your room?

Had he lied to you?

Stupid question.

Of course he lied to you.

You turn to glare at him, heart pounding wildly.

“You liar,” you spit, flinching back in vain as he reaches for you.

He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I am a villain. And I didn’t lie. This is part of your walk – the walk you wanted. So,” he prompts, giving you a slight shove that nearly sends you crashing into the double doors.

“Keep walking.”

****

You hardly dared to breathe.

Not that you could even if you wanted to. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.

Your brain buffered for another few seconds before you could process what you were seeing.

The room, a large assembly hall, was, as you’d expected, filled with people. Members of the League. Villains.

But there, near the front of the room, looking far too content in a room of people he was supposed to be against–

Wasn’t he–?

Hawks.

The pro-hero Hawks.

Wasn’t Hawks a hero?

Shouldn’t he be fighting? Running? Trying to rescue you?

Why did he look so content? Why was he laughing, smiling next to Twice?

You take a step back, searching blindly for the door handle.

Consequences be damned, you weren’t about to wait around. Whatever was going on here, you wanted nothing to do with it.

Swallowing thickly, you tried to slip out of the room while the villains before you mingled about, as if this was some type of meet and greet or a party.

You weren’t ever really the type of person to feel any degree of self-righteousness, or think yourself better than those around you, but it became difficult when the only people you were surrounded by were villains. You didn’t feel bad about what you thought of them. It wasn’t as if they’d ever find out.

“Ah ah,” someone tuts behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Dabi.

What was he getting at? What kind of sick game was he trying to play?

He lightly shoves at the small of your back, pushing you forward. You stumble back into the room, straightening up.

Glancing around cautiously, you all but meld into the wall, praying no one notices you. That hope is dashed as soon as Dabi seizes your forearm and yanks you towards him, walking with an air of ease towards Twice and Hawks.

A million thoughts race through your mind as you try, and fail, to pull away from Dabi. All he spares you is a warning glare before the two of you come to a stop before the winged hero and his animated companion.

Something flickers in Hawks’ eyes when he spots you, a slight glimmer of recognition. It’s gone a moment later, so fast you almost think you imagined it.

“Who’s the kid?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, turning to Dabi. Your brother, if you even still considered him that, spares you one more quick glance, a dark look in his eyes, before responding.

“Tomura’s new experiment.”

That hurt, more than you’d care to admit.

You knew it was true, but that didn’t make it any less hurtful to hear out loud. You’d been denigrated to nothing more than an experiment. Not a person, not a child, but an object to be tested and prodded at. You were little more than an oversized labrat to these people.

Something in your expression must convey the hurt and irritation you try so hard to bury, because Dabi scoffs and wraps his hand around the back of your neck, jerking you closer to him as he tilts his head down to whisper to you. His breath is hot against your ear and it makes you cringe back awkwardly, though you don’t get far.

“What? Did that hurt your feelings?”

You clench your sweat slicked hands into fists, trying to hold your anger at bay, though it does nothing to curb your frustration. And with your frustration comes the familiar feeling of your quirk, unnatural and monstrous, bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as you try so hard to shove it back down.

“No. No, I’m just… tired. From the tests.”

He scoffs, a patronising smirk tugging at his lips. “Aw, of course. You’re tired.”

Twice and Hawks watch silently from the sidelines, not intervening, even as you wince, Dabi’s grip tightening on the nape of your neck.

“Behave. Be a good little lab rat and I won’t have to fry your face, okay?”

His tone is gentle, as if he were talking to an infant, punctuated by the soft strokes of his fingers against your cheek, but his words send a shiver of panic down your spine, locking you in place.

Satisfied with your fear induced obedience, he releases you and turns back to the pair before you, chattering away about some or other plan the League was in the process of reviewing.

None of them pay you any attention for the rest of the night.

****

Hawks seems to linger around base a lot more after that first encounter.

You see him every time the door to your glorified prison cell opens. You see him when the doctor visits to poke and prod at you, when Mr Compress drops by to deliver your meals, even when Shigaraki appears for his rare visits.

The only time he doesn’t appear is when Dabi visits, though that’s rare enough in and of itself.

He never stops to talk, or even stare, only sparing a fleeting glance at you from the corner of his eye, posture tensing slightly, before he continues down the corridor.

You feel a strange tension with him around base. The anxieties you felt before seem to be amplified, your heart rate picking up every time you catch sight of him. A part of you, deep down, hopes that he’s here to help you - to save you. But it’s a childish hope, one you’re sure to squash down as soon as it arises.

The first time he stops and lingers, around three weeks after you first meet him, is to drop your dinner off in place of Mr Compress. It’s a surprise, seeing him instead of the masked villain.

He’s silent the entire time, staring at you with a look of bored curiosity, as if he’s waiting for you to do something entertaining.

You don’t.

You force down the bland food in silence, never once taking your eyes off of him.

He leaves just as silently and quickly as he arrived.

After that day, it slowly starts to become a routine. At first, you rarely see him, but as the weeks turn into months, he becomes one of the only people you interact with. You start expecting to see him instead of the others, and you find out in passing one day that the other members of the League had shirked their duties of caring for you off on to him.

It didn’t bother you as much as it should have - the fact that they viewed you as little more than a chore.

You form a tentative bond with him, one that feels fragile and strained, but it’s better than anything else you’d had up until that moment. He’s the closest thing you have to a friend, to someone that cares about you.

His apparent care for you becomes obvious in the small things he does - the meals he brings you become more edible, something you actually look forward to instead of having to force it down. He visits more often, the short periods in which you see him seemingly becoming longer than they were before.

Four months after that first tentative encounter, Hawks had solidified himself in your dreary daily existence, establishing himself as your sole source of what could only be described as happiness.

You’d, somewhat unwillingly at first, become far more relaxed in his presence, even going as far as to enjoy his company. Some days, you might even say you looked forward to his visits.

Not only did he act as a reprieve from your never ending boredom, with both his company and the gifts he bought you, but also his interventions.

Mr Compress had, on one of his now rare visits, not at all subtly told you that Hawks had convinced the League - specifically Shigaraki - to quote unquote ‘take it easy on you’. His tone had been tinged with something you couldn’t quite identify at the time.

Even Dabi had begun to unironically refer to Hawks as your ‘new best friend’.

He didn’t seem too happy with the new development.

A week later, Hawks, or Keigo, as he’d asked you to call him in private, had paid you one last visit, and you hadn’t seen him since. He’d gifted you one of his fluffy, scarlet feathers the last time he’d visited, for ‘when he wasn’t around’.

It sat waiting neatly on the centre of the singular pillow on your bed one evening, easily catching your eye as you slipped out of the bathroom attached to your room. There was no note left with it, but you didn’t need one. You knew well enough what it meant, and it filled your empty, aching chest with a sort of warm feeling that left you breathless.

After that day, you kept it with you, tucked into your shirt, positioned right over your heart, and at night, you placed it under your pillow. You might’ve felt embarrassed at how much it meant to you, or how attached you were, but it felt like your only lifeline in the miserable four walls of your little room.

In a strange, cosmic joke kind of way, he almost felt like the family you’d never had.

****

The day Shoto had been scarred by your mother had been an odd day. It was one of the rare days since Touya’s death that you’d felt loved, accepted by your family. Everything felt normal. Two months after your fifth birthday, the snow had melted into clear, fresh streams and flowers had begun to bloom.

Sakura.

Your family had spent the day in the park, wandering around while you and Shoto played with Fuyumi in the dewy grass, in awe of the delicate pink blossoms. There’d been a strange tension between your parents that day, one you’d been too young and oblivious to notice.

After a long Spring day spent outside, your family of six had returned home and resumed life as usual. Dinner was a quiet affair, as it usually was, and you’d hurried about your evening routine after you’d felt your mother’s distasteful gaze trained on you for longer than usual.

Fuyumi had, for reasons unknown to you, attached herself to you that evening, insisting on helping you bathe and get into your pyjamas. You’d gone along with it all, happy and unquestioning of her attention on you.

It felt good, having someone care for you - the first person to do so since Touya’s passing.

She’d laid next to you in your bed, reading a children's storybook to you, her fingers gently carding through your hair - the same hair she’d so caringly brushed out an hour before, carefully working each knot out with a patience and kindness reminiscent of a mother.

In the peace and stillness of the moment, you’d failed to notice Rei's shadowy figure in the doorway, watching the two of you through the slight gap in the doorway. If you had bothered to peer over Fuyumi’s shoulder, you might’ve noticed her blanched face, or her hands, clenched into fists so tight her knuckles turned while. You might’ve noticed the wide eyed, crazed expression that had washed over her face, growing in intensity with each passing moment.

But you didn’t notice her.

What you noticed was the commotion not long after she left. You heard her panicked shrieks fifteen minutes later. Shouto’s pained screeches and sobs followed soon after, echoing eerily down the long corridor to your room.

You heard your father’s thundering steps and bellowing rage, felt Natsuo and Fuyumi’s panic, their trembling hands on your shoulders, steering you away from the sight of Shouto’s raw, burnt face.

And you definitely felt the shiver of dread dripping down your spine when your mother turned her crazed eyes on you. She looked almost demonic in that moment, eyes red rimmed and wide, face nearly as stark white as her hair.

She’d tried to approach you, hands outstretched, fingers curled into cruel claws as she reached out for you, and only your father’s firm grip kept her in the kitchen as you were ushered to your room while Shouto was rushed off to the hospital.

You didn’t see much of any of them after that, and in the months following the incident, you felt even further ostracised from your family.

Rei had been institutionalised not too long after that, and the remainder of your family had kept you at arms length ever since, reminding you constantly of your insignificance to their lives - to the family.

****

The scent of soba and egg rolls fills the room, its occupants silent as they eat.

Hawks halts for a moment, the noodles dangling from his chopsticks as he glances to his left, to the hulking flame hero sitting beside him. He hides a small smirk, tilting his head down and clearing his throat before speaking.

“I looked into that lead you told me about - the one about your daughter? It’s a deadend.”

Endeavour tenses, shooting Hawks a pointed look, but it’s too late. Natsuo and Shouto pause, exchanging a tense look across the table, and Fuyumi perks up, her grip tightening on her chopsticks.

“You’ve been looking for her? And you didn’t think to mention it to us?” Natsuo sounds outraged, his hands tightening into fists on the tabletop. “You didn’t think to ask us for help?”

Endeavour’s jaw tightens.

“I didn’t think it was necessary. Allowing you three to help would’ve done nothing but give you false hope and allow you to interfere with my work. You’d do more harm than good.”

“Ah, Endeavour, so harsh! Don’t shoot them down yet,” Hawks interjects, cutting off whatever scathing remark Natsuo was about to spit out. “More eyes and ears are always helpful. I’m sure they could help out in some way.”

His tone is light, but something about the look in his eyes has Endeavour cautious, and his tone becomes firm.

“No. You three will not get involved. That’s final.”

Hawks shrugs, going back to his soba with a quick final quip.

“Well, that’s that. Dad has spoken. Don’t try to help find your sister.”

His words hit their intended mark, evident in the barely concealed rage on Natsuo’s face.

“...yeah. Figures, you wouldn’t want us helping. You don’t actually want to get her back, do you? You probably wish she’s dead in a ditch somewhere, don’t you?”

The silence that rings out after Natsuo’s rant is deafening, oppressive. It makes the air feel stifling and heavy, and no one dares move.

“You know nothing,” Endeavour spits, his eyes alight with a look akin to pure fury. Heat radiates off of him in waves, turning the once cold soba on the table scalding in mere moments.

“I know you scared her off. We all do. We know you’re the reason she ran away in the first place. We know that if she’s hurt, or dead, or worse, then it’s your fault. And I know that I won’t stop blaming you until the day I die.”

Before the situation can escalate further, Fuyumi intervenes.

“Okay, um– Everyone is clearly feeling overwhelmed, and we all miss her, so… so let’s just take a deep breath and calm down, okay? Getting upset with one another won’t bring her back.”

Her half-hearted interference, surprisingly, seems to work, just enough for everyone to cool their tempers slightly. Natsuo lets out a long, deep breath, standing and leaving the room without another word.

Shouto follows close behind, pausing at the threshold for a moment and turning to glower at his father.

“Find her, or we will.”

****

You’re rudely awoken in the middle of the night, sweaty and tangled up in your sheets with someone shaking you harshly by the shoulders.

“Hey, wake up– Wake up.”

You jolt upright, forehead banging against someone else’s. Wincing, you massage the bruising skin of your forehead and shoot a glare to whoever had woken you up.

Hawks.

“Wha-? What’s going on?”

Your words are mumbled, sleep clouding both your mind and your vision.

Kiego firmly grips both your wrists, pulling them away from your face and yanking you to your feet, out of the bed. Your sheets pool at your feet, tangled up between your legs on the cold concrete floor.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

A quick tug towards the door accentuates his words, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. You put up some resistance, pulling back slightly, trying to ignore the roiling in your stomach.

“Hawk– Keigo, what–? Why are we leaving? Where’s Dabi?”

His expression, from what you can see in the imposing darkness of the room, is hard and guarded, and his grip shifts to your bicep, tightening to an almost painful extent.

“None of that matters. I said we’re leaving, so start walking before I make you.”

You’re thrown off by how short off and rude his words are. He’s nothing like the man you’ve come to consider a friend, and a part of you is almost scared of him at that moment. Something in your expression must give your feelings away, because moments later, his eyes soften alongside his grip, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I’m getting you out of here. Away from the League. Just… trust me. Please?”

Something about his gaze, his tone - it sways you. Convinces you to believe him.

So you do.

A slow nod is the only confirmation you give, but it’s enough for him to start pulling you towards the door again. You hesitate for only a moment before going along with him, pausing only to grab the scarlet feather laid carefully beneath your pillow.

It’s the only thing you take with you. The only thing you have to your name, the only possession of any value to you.

The low light disguises Keigo’s small smirk when he spots the feather clenched tightly in your grip as you trail after him, though he makes no mention of it. Similarly, you make no mention of his bruising grip.

You don’t encounter anyone in your silent, swift escape, and you almost feel as if it’s too easy, but you don’t point it out to Keigo.

Maybe a part of you is scared of jinxing your good luck.

Or maybe you’re terrified this is some sort of elaborate, cruel trick he’s playing on you.

Regardless, you stay silent, sticking close to his side as you both exit the seedy bar. He immediately scoops you up into his arms, crouching down, powerful thighs flexing beneath him for a moment before he takes flight, soaring out of the alleyway in an instant.

****

“She’s gone.”

The entire League sat gathered around the bar, tense and silent as Hawks speaks, leaning casually against the bar, wings splayed out behind him.

“I dropped off her breakfast this morning and her room was empty. Bathroom too.”

The group looks to Shigaraki, waiting for his reaction.

He’s still, expression blank and guarded. The only sign of tension in his body is the tightening of his hand, clasped into fists at his sides. His jaw works for a moment before he responds, muttering to no one in particular.

“Ruined. All ruined. Those stupid pro heroes are always ruining my plans.”

His agitation becomes obvious as he begins pacing in front of the bar counter, hands clawing uselessly at the pale skin of his neck. Welts form within seconds, raised and red and angry beneath his frantic fingernails.

“It’s Endeavour. It has to be. How did he find out? How?”

The words are muttered below his breath as he paces, not meant for anyone but himself, eyes wide and fretful when his head snaps up. His gaze narrows and sets itself on Dabi.

“Did you know about this?”

Dabi raises his eyebrows, expression cool, seemingly bored as he drawls. “Me? Now, why would I know a thing about this?”

His gaze flits momentarily to Hawks, narrowing.

“If anything, you should be asking bird boy over there. He seemed particularly comfortable around her. Wouldn’t he know something about our little escapee?”

Shigaraki groans and turns on his heel, kicking his leg out and toppling a table in the process. The room is silent for a long while, the only sounds piercing stillness is the resounding clatter of the table striking the floor, and Shigaraki’s own rage filled panting.

Silence stretches out for a few moments as he schools his rage, recomposing himself after his explosive tantrum.

“Bring her back - I don’t care how. I need her. My experiments aren’t done yet. Father won’t be pleased. She’s my experiment. Mine.”

He turns his cold glare to Hawks, then Dabi, eyeing them both suspiciously.

“Find her.”

****

Sometimes, you wonder what life would’ve been like if your mother hadn’t been around. Your siblings too, for that matter.

During the more peaceful moments of your life, you fantasised about life far away, often imagining what it’d be like if you’d been born into a different family entirely.

Maybe you’d be an only child, living in a small rural town by the beach, or on a farm.

It would’ve been peaceful, you think. Calm.

Your parents would dote on you, their only daughter, and they wouldn’t care about your lack of a quirk.

Imagining that sort of kindness made your stomach turn. How would it feel?

Or maybe you’d be one of many children. The oldest child.

You’d protect your younger siblings in the ways you never were. You’d be part of a big happy family, one where you had big Sunday lunches and went on annual vacations. You’d have a family pet, a cat or a dog, adored by everyone in your make believe family.

Or maybe you’d be an orphan.

How sad, that being an orphan without a home was preferable to your own situation.

But you’d be surrounded by other children like you - children without homes, without families.

The thought of a different life left an aching hole where your heart should’ve been.

There were times that you felt bad about wishing for a different life. You’d look at family photos, gazing down at your siblings smiling up at you, their faces joyful and free of concern.

Why couldn’t your life have been like that? Was your lack of a quirk really the only thing that made you so different?

Maybe if you’d been born as Fuyumi instead, with her soft eyes and kind disposition.

Or maybe Natsuo, with his unwavering strength, that glint he got in his eyes when he looked at you - the one that meant that he loved or hated you.

Most often, you imagined what it would be like to have been born as Shouto.

The golden child.

Would you have been grateful? Or would you have hated your family as much as he seemed to hate yours?

What reason did he have for hating them? They treated him like a king. Like their own saviour.

You wish he’d been yours. You wish he’d never grown out of his kindness, like he did when you were five years old and desperate for some kind of connection.

Perhaps things would have been different.

You try to imagine a world in which he took over the role Touya held in your life. You try to imagine a world in which your family protected you, in which they didn’t look down on you like you were scum.

The picture is blank and fuzzy.

You can’t imagine such a world.

But amidst the mess of self-pity and poorly disguised hatred in your mind, you remember small glimpses of happiness in your life with them. It rarely happened, but since you’d been taken by the League, it was as if the floodgates had opened. Memories you’d long since repressed came back in bits and pieces, and surprisingly, they weren’t all bad.

When you were seven years old, your father had hit you. It wasn’t out of the ordinary - in fact, you’d come to expect it.

But it hurt nonetheless. It bruised both your face and your feelings, so you’d escaped to the greenhouse in the garden for a reprieve - somewhere you rarely went.

It had been your mother’s sanctuary, but she’d long since been hospitalised, so you had no fear of seeing her through the thicket. You spent far longer there than you’d thought, and eventually the setting sun illuminated the room, filtering through the glass roof and overhanging foliage. It looked as if the room was on fire, bathed in the warm orange afternoon glow.

That’s where Natsuo found you, huddled up under a counter with your knees to your chest, careful not to jostle your bruised cheek.

He didn’t say anything, or try to coax you out of your shelter. Instead, he sat down next to you with a huff, slightly hunched over beneath the table. He, despite being only ten years old at the time, was already a lot taller than you, and most other children his age. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, not acknowledging one another as you sat side by side.

The memory replayed itself in your mind, almost as clearly as the day it happened.

Some time passes before he speaks.

“When I’m older, I’ll protect you. Like Touya did.”

The words give you pause, and you don't look at him. Thinking back now, you wish you had.

Would his expression have told you what he was thinking?

You’d never know.

“I’m not strong enough right now, but one day, I will be. And then he’ll never hurt you or Sho again. We’ll leave - us and Fuyumi.”

He pauses, bumping his shoulder against yours. You glance up at him and see his mouth pulled tight, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“...I’m sorry for being a bad brother. I… I know I don’t act like it often, but I do love you. I worry about you too.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your gaze. The words, however true they may or may not be, make you feel… wanted. As if he actually sees you as a member of the family, a little sister, and not some pesky waste of space or a punching bag.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.”

The conversation lulls into silence after that. He sits beside you in silence, staring blankly at the wall of ivy opposite the two of you, and you sit there, still curled up tightly, fighting back tears.

He glances at you for a moment, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. The gesture feels comforting, in a way. As comforting as it can be, coming from him - someone who’s a strange combination of both your older brother, and a complete stranger to you.

The sigh he lets out is heavy, weighed down by an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on, and his thumb gently strokes your swollen cheek. He pulls back as you wince, recoiling as if you’d struck him.

“Come on. Let’s get you some ice for that bruise.”

It felt both strange and pathetic - the fact that that was your fondest memory with Natsuo, at least from what you could remember.

But it felt soothing, in a way, to know that he didn’t completely hate you. Not as much as you’d thought.

It almost gave you hope that your family actually cared. Maybe they were looking for you. Maybe they were worried about you.

And maybe, they even felt remorseful for how they’d treated you.

Or maybe not.

****

“There’s been a… development.”

Endeavour tenses, the vein in his jaw ticking as he eyes Hawks.

“What do you mean?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, his brows scrunching into a faux sombre expression. The hand he lays on Endeavour’s shoulder is meant to be reassuring, but it feels like a death knell, settling heavily on his mind.

“I looked into it, and… she isn’t with the League. I don’t know if she ever was.”

“So… What? She just disappeared? People don’t just vanish off the face of the earth Hawks!”

His temper is boiling over now, despite his attempt to keep it under control. Hawks takes a step back, cautious as he shows his palms in a placating gesture, attempting in vain to calm the quickly growing fury of the man before him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t found a single trace of her. Maybe…”

Hawks schools his features, taking another step back, preparing for the inevitable backlash he’s about to receive.

“Maybe you should let it go. She’s gone, and she’s clearly not coming back.”

The large mahogany desk, once anchored to the floor, flies across the room, slamming against the wall of shelves with a resounding boom, its contents scattered across the office.

Endeavour is the picture of barely restrained rage, shoulders heaving with each panting breath, posture hunched and shuddering, his face red and twisted beyond recognition. Even his voice is barely recognisable.

“How dare you? How dare you suggest I give up? She is my daughter! She might be dead or worse, and you think I should just give up?!”

The air sizzles with each wave radiating off of the flame hero, and the plastic office chair behind him melts like butter, dripping to the floor in a sticky puddle, marring the once perfectly polished tiles.

Hawks quickly backtracks, eyebrows raising at the display of unbridled fury.

“Woah woah, no! I’m not suggesting that at all! I mean… maybe I was, but I can see now how upset that makes you so– Let’s just take a break, okay? Just take some time to… rethink things.”

His eyes flicker to Endeavour’s face, searching for something for a moment.

“Maybe consider allowing your kids to help?”

He shows his palms again before Endeavour can interject.

“I know, I know! It’s just a suggestion. Many hands, and all that. Just… give it some thought, okay? I’ll keep looking and let you know if I find anything.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, a small smirk playing on his lips.

With Endeavour lost in his own self hatred and personal musings, and the League preoccupied with their plans and separate search for you, no one would be looking his way.

****

Keigo was surprisingly wealthy.

Not that you’d expected him to be living in squalor - he was a Pro Hero, after all. A good one too, if his position as number two was anything to go by.

But the blatant decadence of his apartment shocked you.

He’d landed on the balcony smoothly, after a long forty minute flight, gently setting you down and leading you inside.

While he may have been accustomed to flying, you weren’t so lucky, and you felt as though you’d left your stomach back at the League’s base. Or maybe you’d lost it mid flight.

He seemed to pick up on your disorientation, guiding you to the plush couch with an unexpected tenderness. He’d allowed you to gather your bearings, bringing you a fuzzy blanket to stave off the odd chill in his apartment, and a tall glass of water, the condensation beading down the sides.

You’d been thirstier than you’d expected, chugging down the contents in mere moments, gulped down in six seconds flat.

Evidently, you’d been more exhausted than you thought too, dozing off less than fifteen minutes later. You felt Keigo there, his gentle hands helping you lay down and covering you with the blanket.

Now, when you wake up hours later, dazed and drooling, in a bed far too large for one person, Keigo’s gone, and the only indicator of his presence were the few scarlet feathers strewn across the fluffy duvet.

You spend a while combing the apartment for him, tentatively calling out his name as you wander the wide halls, but he’s nowhere to be found. Likewise, you note, at the back of your mind, the distinct lack of a front door.

There’s an off-kilter niggling at the back of your mind, but you brush it off, shifting your search to the kitchen after yet another unsuccessful ten minutes of searching. Evidently, exploring after hours of surprisingly deep sleep made you thirsty. You stand there, leaning against the marble countertop, chugging a tall glass of water, then another, and a third, until you feel bloated and almost sick. Only then do you set your glass down in the sink and move on from the kitchen.

His apartment is large, far too extravagant, but you suppose that must’ve been his taste.

You wander around the space aimlessly for a while, longer than you expected.

Why did he need this much space? Did he live with someone else?

The three tall glasses of water you’d chugged catch up to you far too quickly, and you shuffle to the first bathroom you find, paying no mind to your surroundings.

After taking care of your business and washing your hands, you exit the bathroom and stop short when you spot Keigo standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his face blank. Neither of you move for a long while, but eventually he blinks, eyes clearing as he assesses you.

“You feeling better?”

His tone is light and airy, the same Keigo you’ve grown accustomed to. It sets you at ease, the tension you hadn’t noticed in your shoulders melting away, trailing down your spine like a trickle of water.

“...yeah. Much.”

There’s a long pause, neither of you moving or saying anything. You clear your throat.

“Um, I never thanked you. For helping me, I mean. So… thank you.”

You incline your head slightly, straightening up. He stares at you for a long moment, sighing as he shifts to the side, a clear indication for you to leave the room. You do, shuffling past him awkwardly and making your way back to the living room.

The ceilings are tall, nearly over twelve feet, making the room seem larger and more exposed than it truly is. You sit back down on the couch, shifting about for a moment, settling down as Keigo seats himself down near you.

After a while, when it becomes apparent that he has no plan of breaking the simmering silence, you decide to take it upon yourself.

“I– Can I go home now?”

Home.

You didn’t know what that was. Not anymore.

It wasn’t with your father, on his sprawling estate. It wasn’t your four walled prison cell with the League. It certainly wasn’t with Touya.

The realisation that you had nowhere to go, no one to care for you… It was startling, and left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Keigo stares at you, head dipped forward so it appears almost as if he’s leering at you through his lashes. His golden eyes are alight with a strange intensity, and he takes a deep breath, seemingly thinking over his words.

“About that. See… I think it’s better if you stay with me for a bit. Just to… acclimate. You understand, right?”

His tone leaves little room for argument, but you try nonetheless.

“What? But wouldn’t– I don’t want to impose. I should really get back to my… family.”

The words die out on your tongue.

Now, out in the open, free from both the League and your family, you’re not so sure you want to return to the Todoroki home. You’d never had a choice before. It felt freeing, in a way, finally having the power to decide what you wanted without someone else breathing down your neck, trying to influence your decision.

Keigo raises a brow, the look that he gives you filled with a mix of pity, and something far more calculated and knowing.

“Do you? Do you want to go back to them? To him? The media may not be privy to what happens behind closed doors, but I’ve worked around Endeavour long enough to recognise the fact that he has a bit of a hot temper. Are you really willing to leave one prison cell for another?”

His words are like a stone dropped in your stomach, settling heavily in your already uneasy gut.

It sparks something inside you, a deep seated realisation. Keigo was offering you a way out. Freedom. True freedom. Or, at least, as close as you could get to it. You wouldn’t have to be subjected to the whims of others, of what they wanted for you.

Keigo was offering you a choice.

Maybe not in so many words, but the offer was there. You’d be a fool not to take him up on it.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, fists clenched tightly in your lap as you meet his gaze.

“I’ll stay.”

He smiles, eyes filled with light, seemingly glowing in the early morning rays that filter through the tall windows, gaze intense and trained solely on you. You shiver, wrapping your arms around your midsection as goosebumps dance over your skin.

It’s so cold in here.

“Wonderful.”

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