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sp4ceboo · 19 days ago

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As Selfish as Love: Merman!Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

genre: merfolk au, fantasy au, merman!bakugou x witch!reader, strangers to lovers, bakugou x f!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: in a world infested with purgers of magic, neither a clandestine witch nor a lone merman can remain safe for long.

tw: 18+, smut (afab reader, p in v, bkg has a merman cock, marking + biting, oral f receiving, fingering, crying during sex but not like you think, unprotected sex, creampie), violence, blood, death, vivid gore, grief, reader treated as a tool by evil ppl, random worldbuilding, questionable medical knowledge, kinda plot heavy, other stuff i don't remember

wc: 19.8k

For years, all you’ve known is darkness.

Chained by the wrist to a ring in the wall, swaddled and asphyxiating in the blackness of the brig - it is there where your closest companion has become the dark. It is the absence of light: not only because they do not deem you human enough to spare lamp oil on you, but because the kiss of the sun has been reduced to a foreign concept, a distant, syrupy memory.

Every morning when that door opens, letting light leak in and crawl painfully between the cracks of the roughly hewn floorboards like an intruder, you repeat your name back to yourself, remind yourself who you are - a witch, a survivor, a person at the end of their tether but that all the same does what they can to keep the shadows at bay.

For the darkness is not just the absence of light: it is the absence of hope, and if you let it take you, your very substance will dissolve and you will sink beneath obsidian waves and melt away without a sound. They will have won.

This is something you will not allow.

White knuckled, you hold onto memories of the past the way a drowning man clings to driftwood. They swirl in the currents of your mind, fickle things. Sometimes they are so tangible you can feel the grass beneath your feet and the bracing wind of the highlands on your face even in the still, humid air of the brig, sometimes they eddy away before you can catch a glimpse.

You were barely a woman when they caught you, when they tore you out from where you’d been rooted to the earth, ripping through the stitches that held your life together. You were young, and you were naive and ignorant. This would not have happened if I had been as I am now, you think, but as you are now is shackled in the belly of a ship built for the single purpose of hunting merfolk.

They hunt to purge. Their so-called divine has commanded the eradication of magic, and so that is what each and every child is trained for from birth. The land has been rife with their conquest for centuries, making witches such as your kind unheard of, yet the sea for all its worth has lain mostly untouched until recently.

You are jealous of the merfolk. The magic must come easily to them, because they have not had to suppress it out of fear - it seethes in their blood, potent as an ocean storm, imbued within their essences as salt is in seawater. For this, they are feared, and for this, the hunters are more so hellbent on their extermination.

Over your years spent in the hull’s constant night you’ve learnt that your captors are the most celebrated hunters of their time, held above everything but their leader and their divine. They are revered among their people, and that is why they are allowed to chain a witch in their brig and force her to heal wounds sustained from hunting the undeserving - because they are strong enough and honourable enough to not be corrupted by your magic.

There is nothing honourable about the way they treat you.

Though you are human as they are, you are lower than an animal to them. They have no care for your limits - oftentimes, you are pushed to heal and heal and heal until you are exhausted, and yet you refuse to succumb when the darkness calls, because each time you meet their eyes, without fail, you see, buried deep within, is fear.

They fear what is unknown, what is not under their control, and every time you refuse to break when they beat you just for entertainment, every time they push you almost to death yet you survive, you wrest back an inch of control. You are needed, and that is something you will use one day, when the time is right. For now, you collect those sparks of fear in their eyes and let it feed the fire nestled within your soul that fends off the growing dark.

It is a day like any of the other days. Stirring in your fraying blankets, you wake up to the sound of the crew’s strident voices, and as it is sometimes, you almost forget that they are cruel and stained by their own wrong doings because for now, there is no talk of blood shed, just breakfast. You hate that they can seem so normal with so many innocent lives on their hands.

The day very quickly progresses into the type you have come to dread.

They neglect to bring you your daily portion of bread and water, nor the echinacea you had asked for more of, and it can only mean one thing - a hunt is on. Already, you can feel the unruly lurch of the ship as it skims over the waves, picking up speed. The crew’s voices become louder, crowing and eager, and you despise them so deeply your heart twists and becomes an ugly thing in your chest.

Almost imperceptible, you can hear the rattle and hiss of ropes as they ready their harpoons. This part is the worst, where the darkness closes in so near that you can feel its cold touch brush up your arms and its breath ghosting over your face. Sometimes you hear the anguished cries of the merfolk, sometimes the whoops and victory cries of the crew are loud enough to drown it out. You don’t know which is worse.

After will come the wounded, grinning still and soaked in blood of two kinds - theirs and their victims. You are always numb to it by then, turning a blind eye to the crimson dipped trophies they grip in dirty hands: lopped off fins and strips of scales, sometimes small enough to be a child’s.

How they can butcher beings as beautiful as the merfolk and think it the right thing to do, you do not know.

It makes you sick to your stomach, that somehow you have become their accomplice, stitching their wounds with your magic, saving their lives so they can kill again. You vow that one day, you will strike back, but what good can you do now, trapped in the bowels of a boat that was designed as a vessel for murder?

You have to try. You have to survive, if just to try. You are yet to come up with a method for escaping past what you have already attempted, but if you do not, more lives will be lost, more bloodshed that you had inadvertently aided. Right now, on deck, the patterns for it to happen all over again are falling into place.

You’re sure that this time will be no different.

And so you wait for the injured to come, almost defeated if not for the hard, bright little ball of hate settled in your throat. You wait, and you wait, listening to the strange thumping above that you can’t decipher, and still they don’t bring you their wounded. Neither comes their usual sickening shouts of triumph - you wonder if the merfolk managed to escape. You hope desperately that they did.

Listless, you turn your head as footsteps approach. There are more than normal. You can’t count exactly - five, maybe six, and they all walk with a strange irregular gait as they approach the brig.

I hope the merfolk put up a magnificent fight, you think as the key scrapes in the lock. I hope that taught them; you know it never does. The more damage the merfolk do while they fight for the lives of their mates and children, the more they are damned as unnatural and beastly and deserving of the fates that are doled out to them by men.

Back when you took the warmth of the sun on your face for granted, you lived too far inland to ever see one in the flesh. You were still a witch under the disguise of a healer, though. You’d heard tales, seen artists’ renderings and gorey body parts wrenched off as sick memorabilia.

None of those could have ever come close to preparing you for the sight before your eyes.

A merman.

Deep in enemy territory - so deep, in fact, that all those surrounding him, bar you, have murdered more than dozens of his kind each. He is on a galleon rammed bow to stern with killers. And yet, despite it, he has not fallen victim to the purge. Yes, there is a splintered harpoon sunken into his side, yes, he is limp and broken, but even so, shallowly, his chest rises and falls.

He breathes. He breathes, and even that is beautiful. The lamp’s light reflects off his scales; he is mainly jet black, but broad swathes of orange run across the length of his powerful tail like they were drawn with the loving stroke of a painter’s brush. In parts, they darken into a ruby red that glitters and winks as the lamp light dances.

Or maybe that’s just blood.

There’s a lot of it. It soaks into the sheet they strain to carry between them, pools in the dip his weight makes, streaks in smears down his chest and face, coats his hands and is embedded under his sharp nails. You hope that all of it is not his, that he made them regret whatever they must have done to get a merman vulnerable enough and far enough from his pod to capture him.

Deep lacerations cut all along his chest and tail, and one of the spines that extend from his sail-like dorsal fin is bent in a way that must mean it is broken. A smattering of scales reach wide across his shoulders and back and down his arms, some of them twisted and bent out of shape. Your eyes fall to the harpoon buried just below his hip, and you feel the bite of your nails digging into your palms.

“Heal it,” commands the man holding the corner of the sheet closest to you. “We’ve been ordered to bring back a merfolk to be studied. It must be in peak condition.”

You frown as they begin to manoeuvre all three metres of merman into the brig. Studied? They must be looking for a weakness to exploit. After all, merfolk succumb less easily to flesh wounds than humans - the magic of the sea resides in their very bones.

A hand fists the front of your shirt and you’re jerked forward. You can feel the hunter’s foul breath on your cheek, feel the violence roiling just below the surface of his skin, and yet you cannot tear your eyes from the merman until you’re struck across the face. Reeling back, you raise your head to look at him, a hand flying up to cradle your jaw where it has begun to swell.

“Are you deaf? What are you waiting for?” he spits.

Your brain is still stuck on the fact that there is a merman before you, alive on a ship full of specialised mermen killers, but your body has gone through these motions many times before and brings you to kneel by your patient so fast your chain jingles crassly in the relative quiet, your hands already working to gather herbs for a poultice that will slow the bleeding.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see your captors filing out of the door, the last of them grumbling and wiping his hands on his trousers as if being near enough to hit you had sullied him. Realisation dawns abruptly on you.

They’re leaving you alone with the merman.

“Wait,” you call.

Disquiet grows in your stomach. As much as you hate the life forced upon you, serving as a tool for men who would not hesitate to kill you if you ran out of worth, you have gotten used to it, and this merman at your feet has disrupted your delicate equilibrium, tripping you as you balance on a knife’s blade.

You have never had problems with thinking fast in a pinch. You are a healer, you are accustomed to endless wells of blood and snapped bones sticking through skin. Conversely, you are not accustomed to the sight of a half conscious merman taking up the majority of your floor space, a single fingernail on his hand no doubt potent with more magic than is contained in your whole body.

Your tongue is slow, your mind slower, but you force the words out, emboldened because whether he likes it or not, this merman is leverage for you. There is no one else on board that could save him.

“I will need a lamp indefinitely, while I’m in the process of healing.”

You realise how important the health of this merman is to their study because the hunter holding the lamp brings it over with no words of criticism, just the curl of his lip when you draw near enough to take it from him.

Its metal is warm in your hands, and you cup it in your palms - a little sun that clears the clinging shadows from the brig like they’re cobwebs. Carefully, you set it on the floor next to you, just outside the border of the canvas the merman lies upon, sitting back on your heels as the door slams shut.

You stare at the merman for a weighty moment. If it did, there’s no telling what organ the harpoon may have punctured - do his intestines extend all the way down his tail? Or are they in the same place as a human’s, and his tail is just muscles, like legs would be?

Never in your life did you think merfolk anatomy would have any significance to you. Even if you’d thought it did, there wouldn’t be any books for you to study on it. A hysterical, jittery laugh builds in your throat, wringing itself from you when you spot the strange slit - for lack of better words - that sits just below where his skin turns to obsidian scales.

The nervous sound breaks the silence, jolting you into action. Never mind his anatomy, he’s still bleeding out. Somehow, you need to get that harpoon out of him: the hunters don’t clean them off once they’ve used them, and if you’re not vigilant, infection will get him before whatever they’ve got in store will.

Determinedly, you scoot closer to his lower half, stretching out a hand to test the area around the wound. In preparation, you will your healing magic to rise to the surface, and it fizzles at the surface of your palms, warming them.

Your fingertips have barely brushed over his scales when pain slashes across your cheek.

The merman jerks away from you so hard that he cries out, and you wince as you see the wound pull wide, blood oozing out from where it gapes. Gingerly, you touch a hand to your cheek - one of his spines had glanced off your face as he’d moved away, its tip sharp enough to shed blood.

Any human patient would have lost consciousness moments after being hit by the harpoon that’s buried in his tail, and if by a miracle they hadn’t yet, the pain caused by what he just did surely would have knocked them out. Inexplicably, he’s still conscious, blood red eyes glaring at you with blatant distrust.

You hadn’t gotten a chance to look closely at his face before - you’d been too busy ogling his tail. Spikey, sandy hair casts a shadow over his eyes. They glow, carmine and half crazed, no doubt with the same agony that pinches at his face and curls his lip, revealing sharp canines that he bares at you, twin ivory warnings.

A rattling, hissing sound emanates from deep in his chest when you attempt to move closer again, his dorsal fin undulating in an obvious threat display. You can tell it hurts him; the spine you’d noticed before is definitely broken, the parts of the fin around it drooping and limp. He growls when he catches you looking.

You really, really don't know what to do.

Your skin prickles, the hairs on the back of your neck rising. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you were left alone with him. Aside from the obvious hostility, his face is effectively blank; there’s nothing in his gaze except the primal instinct to survive, and the unspeakable, offensive terror of a wounded animal backed into a corner and trapped there.

There’s no getting through to him with words. You remember the night you were ripped from your cottage by the hunters, the way you clawed and screamed until your voice was gone and your nails were torn and bleeding. You know what it’s like to have the adrenaline coursing through your veins so fast it burns, you know what it’s like to feel the anger and fear blend together in your chest until it strips away your humanity and you’re reduced to nothing more than a feral, wild eyed animal.

Slowly, you get to your feet, your chains rattling. He growls, making that hissing sound again, and despite his size, despite the muscles straining in his chest and the magic you can sense in his form, he looks small. You grit your teeth. The shock is beginning to wear off, burnt to ashes by a roaring fury that licks up your throat and fills your lungs.

You wonder if he had a pod. You wonder if they got massacred before his eyes.

Ignoring the trembling of your hands, you scoop up the piece of dried fish that remains from yesterday’s meal. It’s the only food you have, so you turn and offer it to him - when he doesn’t hiss immediately, you slide it over to him on the dented tin plate it had been on.

Tentatively, the merman picks up the fish, his nose very obviously wrinkling. As he examines your peace offering, you notice his hands are webbed up to the lowest knuckle and are a little larger than a human man’s, the fingers longer and the nails considerably sharper.

Relief fills you as he begins to chew at the fish, and you retreat to your pile of blankets, sitting down and half facing away to give him as much privacy as is possible in as small a space as the brig. You begin to make a poultice for him, crushing the herbs between your fingers because you’re not allowed a mortar and pestle and depositing them on one of the dishes you have lying around.

Once you’re done, you turn back to him. The edge in his eyes has softened a touch, and when you scoot over to settle closer to him, he doesn’t make a sound, instead just leaning away a little, watching you warily. Warningly, he hisses when you lift your hand, his red eyes flashing.

“I’m going to have to touch you to put this poultice on,” you tell him. “It will reduce the bleeding and might alleviate the pain.”

He twitches but remains silent. You wonder briefly if he even understands - people don’t talk to merfolk these days. They either run or they kill. For all you know, he might speak some ancient language of the sea that you have no hope in understanding.

You scoop the poultice up in your fingers and lean forward, aiming to ease him in by angling first for a smaller wound situated just over a hip bone on a human would be (you’re not even sure if his equivalent qualifies as a hip seeing as he lacks legs).

“Don’t,” he snarls, his voice guttural and rasping, like he hasn’t uttered a word in years.

Fumbling, you almost drop the dish. You guess that answers one of your many questions - he can speak your language, although you presume one word doesn’t really express fluency. For a moment, you consider telling him that they’ll no doubt beat you for not healing him, but it seems rather insignificant since it’s nothing they haven’t inflicted on you before.

Sighing, you sit back on your heels and look at him, defeated. He regards you with those same crimson eyes as before, but they’ve cooled considerably and hold traces of scathing criticism you find you aren’t the fondest of.

You begin to realise that he’s not going to give you any explanation as to why he doesn’t want you to treat him. He doesn’t trust you, most likely - you haven’t given him any reason to think otherwise of you, rather, you’d gawped openly at him. You’re not surprised he hasn’t taken a liking to you. You wouldn’t either.

So you retreat back to what has now become your corner of the brig, since the other three are taken up by the length of his tail and the doorway. On a whim, you prepare yourself a turmeric tea; it’s anti-inflammatory and you know you’ll be needing it sooner or later.

It takes a day, but one of the hunters barges in, light sneaking in past the outline of his silhouette. You don’t know any of them by name, nor would you want to, but you do know that this particular one is the first mate.

The merman hasn’t let you near him still, and although at points his eyes are closed, you’re worried that if you try to sneak up on him, he’ll move away again and tear open the parts of the wound around the harpoon that have partially closed up. The perimeter of blood soaked canvas beneath him has slowed its expansion but still grows.

It’s amazing that he’s survived this long while still losing blood. You presume merfolk must be rather resilient, unsurprisingly - the sea is no easy place to live in, nor is it made any easier by its recent infestation of merfolk hunters.

“Did you not hear your orders yesterday, you useless bitch?”

Passively, you look up at him as he looms closer. “I did.”

“So you don’t want to cooperate, then,” he snaps. “Do I have to encourage you?”

You don’t get to answer. A fist full of scarred knuckles collides with your nose, and your head snaps back, white exploding across your vision as the hunter shoves you backwards. Your back hits the ground and before you can even think of scrambling away, you’re kicked hard in the ribs.

You don’t try to resist it. You’ve learnt it’s better to take it than to fight and make him hit harder.

Red hot pain shoots through you when the tip of his boot catches your chin, clacking your teeth together. You cry out as your blood fills your mouth, streams from your nose, stains his knuckle bones. Hands up in a pitiful attempt at protecting your face, you curl up on the floor, as small as you can. Your ribs throb, your chain trapped awkwardly beneath your body.

You’re still balled up with your arms over your head long after he slams the door behind him. You ache all over, and your lower lip is trembling treacherously. Tears press at the backs of your eyes so you squeeze them shut: you’re not going to cry.

You need to get up.

You need to down that damned turmeric tea you made, just to feel the ginger burn as it slips down your throat.

When you open your eyes, the merman is staring. You grimace as you heave yourself to sit upright, the metallic taste of blood still coating your tongue and curdling until it’s sour. His face is unreadable, shuttered and devoid of any emotion. He doesn’t speak, although that isn’t exactly atypical.

“Well, now you’re not the only one bleeding all over the floor,” you mutter, unable to keep the resentment from your tone.

You turn your back to him as you set your nose with a grunt, letting your magic flow through your fingers and knit your flesh back together. Running a hand over your ribs, you check if any are broken, but when none are, you don’t heal them up; you’ll need to save your energy. The hunter didn’t bring food for you, and you doubt he’ll be bringing you any more until you treat the merman. That could take anything from an hour to a week.

Falteringly, you glance over your shoulder. He stares off to a place far away, a place you cannot see. A scowl furrows his brow, and you sigh, wondering if he thinks of the sea and the freedom that was torn away from him the way it was for you.

Curling up on your blankets, you pull one over yourself, rolling to face the wall and shutting your eyes. Loud in the darkness, your stomach growls, and you twitch but ignore the urge to look over your shoulder and stare accusingly at the merman - you too would not trust a human if all their kind had brought him was pain.

Your ribs hurt. It is alright, though. You’ve fallen asleep through worse.

When you wake, the first thing you do is crouch down beside the merman to check his wounds. The rattle of your chains makes him open his eyes, and you see that his face has paled, the alertness in his gaze dimmer now the adrenaline has worn off. As is becoming clear, he’s more resistant to injury than humans are, but there’s a worrying amount of blood saturating the canvas sheet beneath him, and you doubt he’ll make it much longer without help.

If he lets you near, what you’re going to have to do is far from ideal. The hunters’ harpoons are barbed and vicious, but you can’t exactly keep it in, and you can’t exactly cut it out without risking more blood loss. You’re just going to have to yank on it and hope it doesn’t destroy anything too vital on its way out.

“I’m going to have to take the harpoon out,” you tell him measuredly, gauging his facial expression.

He simply stares at you, his face blank but for the slight pinch of his brow. Shadows bathe half of his face; there is barely any lamp oil left to burn. The little flame flickers and sputters, letting darkness dance up the close walls of the brig, and if you do not hurry, you may have to treat him in the dark.

Slowly, you lift your hand, letting it hover over the splintered end of the harpoon. Tension bleeds into his body, the set of his jaw tight and his hands fisting as if he’s bracing himself, but he doesn’t growl or flinch away. Expectancy and resignation lurk in his gaze.

You don’t like that he won’t say anything in response even though he’s proven he can talk. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as you gather your materials: the poultice from yesterday, a roll of bandages, a thick strip of worn leather. The latter you give to him, sighing when he turns it over in his hands, quizzical,

“Bite down on it,” you instruct him as you roll up your sleeves. “Either that or it’ll be your tongue.”

He frowns, but does as you say. You glance up at him to check if he’s ready. The hard lines of his body stand out, taut as a bowstring. He looks brittle, as if he might break and crumble into dust the moment you touch him.

Years ago, when you healed children’s scraped knees and the broken bones of men who had fallen from their ladders while fixing leaks in roofs, you had the words to comfort your patients. These you lost to the eternal darkness of the merfolk hunters’ ship, and these you wish to find again but cannot.

Instead, you murmur a quiet warning as you kneel by his tail, wiping your sweaty palms off on your trousers before getting a strong two handed grip on the end of the harpoon. Under your breath, you count down: three, two, one. Pull.

It makes a squelching, sucking noise as it comes out. You cringe but keep on tugging - if you stop now, it’ll be worse for both of you. He cries out, voice ragged and spilling over with agony, his tail arcing off the floor, and you feel the movement in the way the harpoon jerks in your hands with the bunching of his muscles.

All of a sudden, the resistance disappears. His tail fin slaps against the floor as he goes limp, both his and your heavy panting filling the room. You’re left with the splintered harpoon in your hands, a chunk of flesh and a twisted scale still clinging to one of the bloodied, rusted spokes. He spits the strip of leather out and it lands near your knee.

Carefully, you set down the harpoon and begin applying the poultice straight onto the weeping gash in his side, spreading the rest over the bandages which you bind tightly around his tail. Leaking from your fingertips, your magic suffuses across his skin as you work; you can’t heal him accurately without knowing much about his inner workings, but it should help to stave off any infection.

He shelters his face in the crook of his elbow, and though he tucks his other hand tightly to his chest, you can see the way he trembles.

You give him his space by swiftly moving on, busying yourself with his other injuries. You splint the spine in his dorsal fin, ignoring the way his hands shake and gently placing the arm crossed over his torso by his side so you can use your magic to clean and close up the various cuts and slashes littering his scar flecked body.

His scales seem to be damp, even though it’s almost been a full twenty four hours since he was brought in. It must be seawater somehow, you decide, or a sweat-like substance that keeps his tail wet enough when he hasn’t been in water for a while. He doesn’t look the most comfortable: he’s probably not used to having to support his own weight without the buoyancy of the waves.

There are little scars all over him, his skin a map of cicatrices, but the one that catches your attention is raised and jagged, spanning from the middle of his sternum to his navel. You touch your index finger to the centre of it, and he inhales sharply, flinching away.

“Sorry,” you mutter, pulling back, half expecting him not to hear you.

He’s silent for a while, ignoring your apology, but then comes a begrudging: “Thank you.”

Though he won’t see it - he’s still hiding his face from you - you shrug. “You should never have been hurt in the first place.”

He’s quiet again, lying still enough for you to imagine him dead if not for the rise and fall of his broad chest. You slouch, the energy having leaked from your body in order to mend his. The lamp finally gutters and winks out, leaving in its absence a tiny pinprick of light, a vanishing ember at the wick’s tip, buried in ashes.

When you tear your gaze away from your expired little sun, you’re confronted with a pair of blazing eyes. Pinned on you, they glow in the darkness like two pools of blood, but you find their luminosity strangely comforting, like Arcturus and Betelgeuse to a sailor: stars to lead you on your course.

“You are a witch, are you not?”

You jump at the sound of his voice, rough around the syllables but measured, as if he rolled them around on his tongue before he spoke. The scarlet light from his eyes dims a little as they narrow (you’re not sure if that’s meant to convey amusement or distaste) and you become aware that maybe he can see a lot more in the dark than you can.

“I am,” you confirm, still squinting at him - to no avail.

“Why do you not fight them, then?” He demands, his tone darkening. “Surely you cannot like it here.”

You scoff. “Of course I don’t like it here. You think I like the way they beat me?”

He’s silent, and though you still cannot see his face, you sense his scowl.

Sighing, you reign yourself in. This merman comes the closest to being an ally than all the others that have entered the brig, and you cannot squander this. He may not trust you, and you may be ignorant and ill informed of his kind, but you both have a common enemy, and though he may not like the thought, you are similar enough: the raw energy that flows through him is the same that you harness to perform your magic.

“I could fight, but there is nowhere for me to go if I escape the ship - there is just the sea,” you explain. “In the end, they are scared of all those associated with magic, even the witch they keep chained in the dark. The moment they deem that the risk I pose outweighs the use I have to them, they’ll kill me.”

He’s quiet again while he processes what you’ve said. “And what of me, witch? Why have they not killed me yet?”

“They want to study you,” you reply, wincing at how harsh your voice comes out. “I think we’re quite far from their lands - a few months’ travel, maybe - but it’s hard to tell.”

“What - ”

“Enough questions,” you cut him off. “My turn.”

A plethora of questions crowd your mind, but as you think of the merman in front of you, you find that they can wait, because although he must have stories of the sea that you’d only dreamed of hearing, and although magic you could learn endlessly from is threaded through his being, he is primarily, before anything, a soul. He is a soul: a soul with eyes that make the permanent night you are lost within just a little more manageable.

You will have to find out whether the kraken is real or not later; you will ask him about selkie skins afterwards.

Instead, you ask him his name, and tell him your own.

Bakugou, he grunts in response before turning his head to face the wall, clearly ending the conversation. Frowning, you stare at his back - or where you presume his back is, in the darkness - and mull over the name he provided you with; you are certain he has given you the one he gives to strangers. You suppose that is what you are.

Pulling absently at your chain, you sit with your back to the wall, your knees to your chest, and think about the merman, about Bakugou. For a moment, you are seized by the absurd belief that his most grave injury is a bleeding heart, but that cannot be true, for he has not said anything that indicates it. Questions find their way to your tongue, but you let them stick there, stifling them before they deign to interrupt the silence.

Neither of you move from your positions until the door opens, revealing the first mate. Squinting, you rise to your feet, a muscle feathering in your jaw as he purposefully kicks Bakugou in the shoulder, lifting his lamp high so he can see the bandages you’d applied.

“I’ll need a top up on lamp oil if I’m to continue the healing process,” you announce. “And we’ll need food and water. He’ll have - ”

You hesitate, glancing over at Bakugou, but he just lifts a shoulder and makes a face of disgust that you know isn’t conscious. Deliberating for a moment, you wrack your brain for any clues about merfolk diets.

“Fresh fish,” you decide. “And crabs. The bigger the better. Also, he’ll need a tub big enough for him, filled with seawater.”

“Watch the way you address me,” the first mate snaps, taking a step forward.

You shrug. “You wanted him healed, didn’t you?”

Your first two requests come within the next few hours, appeasing the increasing hollowness that had resided in your stomach and sending the shadows inhabiting the brig retreating up the walls and into the corners of the room, but the tub doesn’t come until two days after. It is barely watertight, plugged with tar and made from rough sawn wood.

You haven’t exchanged words with Bakugou since you asked his name and he gave you one, though you find yourself on the receiving end of his red eyes more often than not. He’s silent as the hunters bring the tub in, as they fill it with pails of seawater, as they leave and slam the brig’s door behind them. He’s silent, even as he slips into the tub and into a thin slice of his home.

And then, after a moment, he turns to you, and there’s something painful and cutting and cynical in his eyes.

“You know, the water doesn’t speed up the healing.”

You nod. “I know it doesn’t. You were uncomfortable.”

His eyes blaze. “What do you want?”

You regard him, regard the intensity of the fire in his gaze and the way his chest heaves. His tail fin hangs out of the tub, but even so, water swills over the side and splashes onto the floor like it can sense his agitation. Loudly, the links of your chain clank against each other as you cross your arms.

“I do not want anything, Bakugou.”

He narrows his eyes. “All humans I have known but one are cruel, witch. You wish for me to owe you something.”

“I don’t,” you reply, noticing the strange look that creeps onto his face. “Who is this human you hold in such high esteem?”

A distant look erases the furrow in his brow, and you get the sense he is no longer talking to you when he speaks again: he is lost in some place far away, a place coated in the golden sheen that tints all good memories. His voice turns soft as he brushes his fingers over the scar on his chest.

“His name was Izuku,” he murmurs. “But I called him Deku.”

“Deku?” You echo, your voice crudely loud all of a sudden.

A flash of grief slashes across his features like lightning on the high seas, there and gone so fast you almost don’t catch it. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly shutters slam down behind his eyes and his expression melts away until his face is blank and cold. Regret sinks heavy in your stomach.

You wince. “I’m sorr - ”

“He’s dead,” Bakugou growls.

He doesn’t speak to you for three days. There is a certain rawness in his blood red eyes that makes you gentler as you change his dressings and reapply your poultices. He looks at you as if he hates that you are healing him instead of leaving him to die, so you avoid his gaze, staring instead at the scars that cover him like warpaint.

You get the sense that he is mourning this human he told you of all over again, and you cannot help but see the weight of it in the tension of his body and wonder if you could alleviate the pain.

On the fourth day, he shuts the vulnerability away somewhere deep inside of him, buried far enough beneath other things that he can pretend it never even existed. Yet you remember it, still vivid and fresh in your mind as you lie curled up on your side, watching the lamp’s flame until your eyes burn. He breaks the silence by clearing his throat, his gaze fixed on you.

“Witch,” Bakugou says softly. “How did they catch you?”

You glance over at him. “I was young and foolish and alone. It’s easy to snatch a girl from her home under those circumstances.”

“You have been here for years, then.”

“I have,” you sigh. “I tried to escape once. That’s why I’m chained down.”

“A weaker soul would not have survived this darkness,” he remarks solemnly. “You are strong, witch.”

You look down at your hands, watching your fingers fidget to and fro in your lap. Your tongue is frozen in your mouth - you had not spoken properly to someone in years before he was captured, and his behaviour confuses you. No words come to mind that express how grateful you are for his acknowledgement.

“Thank you,” you settle with in the end.

He hums but other than that remains silent.

Later you discuss with him the possible logistics of an escape. He explains to you that he cannot channel the magic the way you can, but that he is soaked in the magic of the sea; he is unable to use it for spells because it is innately part of him, enhancing him beyond human capabilities. Together, you come to the conclusion that you must get off the ship before you arrive at the hunters’ lands, or your chances of freedom will have narrowed to almost nothing.

An actual method of subduing or injuring the hunters enough to allow an exit route evades you, though. After all, you are chained to the wall, and there’s no easy way of moving Bakugou - he is, evidently, far too heavy for you to drag around all by yourself.

Uneasy silence falls over the brig. You stare at the lamp again: with it, your ability to see has been restored, along with a piece of your humanity, but now its light seems to illuminate how small a space you are contained in, how strong the chain binding you to the wall is.

As you drift off to sleep that night, you find yourself gripped by the fear that Bakugou will never return to the sea, and instead, they will inflict unspeakable torments upon him.

You will be the one who kept him alive for them. You will be the one who he grows to hate, because you had the chance to let future pain pass him by, but you saved him, and by doing so, you failed to spare him from their torture. And while they cut him open and study his insides, you will be somewhere far away, still risking yourself to heal their most elite, almost as if they are beloved to you.

The thought gnaws at you as the weeks pass. Blood no longer soaks the bandages wrapped around his tail; his dorsal fin is almost healed. He is gaining strength, more rapidly through your magic, and it is clear he has shaken off death many times before if his scars are testament to anything. In particular, the one on his chest draws you: though it is long healed, you can tell it was deep.

He almost died back then, too - the scar tissue around its edges is strange, lumpy and malformed as if he was kneaded back together by a child who saw his flesh as nothing more than clay harvested gleefully from a river bank. Even so, the shape of it is familiar. You know you shouldn’t pry. You remember the way he flinched away when you first touched it, but you ask, anyway.

“Bakugou,” you ask him once you’ve finished changing his bandages. “What did you do to get a merfolk’s blade stuck in your chest?”

He snarls. “All you do is fucking dig, you shitty witch.”

“I - ”

Hissing, he swipes at you half heartedly, and you stumble backwards, dodging his fist and almost tripping on your chain, caught off guard by the agitation in his eyes. Stunned, you gape at him. The fury is vehement on his face, evident in the grit of his teeth and the tremor in his hands as he grips the side of the tub; you can tell he despises how he is trapped in here with you, fending you off with the sting of his words.

You open your mouth. You’re not certain what you’re supposed to say, other than an apology that he will shake off easily, but you hope that words will form on your tongue. He levels his gaze on you, and this time, within it dwells an overwhelming sorrow that stops you short.

“Don’t try,” he whispers. “You cannot change the past.”

Brow furrowed, you stare at him. You take in the pain carved all over him, and this, you realise, not his scars, is his warpaint - he holds it close to him, like a cloak of inwardly turned, savage blades, reminding him to keep his distance. It is present in the bow of his head, the slump of his shoulders, a weight so heavy it threatens to rend his flesh from his bones.

You get to your feet, and in the lamp light, the single tear that rolls down his face is turned to solid gold.

Balefully, he looks at you, yet he holds still as you reach out and smooth it away with your thumb. A rawness resides in his eyes that you wish you could soothe as you catch the next tear that spills over, gently as if he is made of porcelain.

“You need not bear the weight of your world on your shoulders, Bakugou.”

Your words wrench a sob from him. His fingers curl tight around your wrist, tearing your hand away from his face, silently weeping as he grips you so hard you begin to lose feeling in your palm. You watch as the anguish in his eyes evolves into anger, harsh and brittle and bleak.

“Get away from me,” he spits, voice strangled, and yet he does not release you, so you perch on the side of the tub and make a show of not looking at him so he is not alone in his privacy.

It’s then that you realise that whether or not he likes it, you have gotten through to him. In the month that goes by, sometimes he is cold and aloof, keeping to himself, and sometimes he allows you close enough that you can feel his warmth. You find you savour his company when it’s there.

His wound is fully healed, a pink scar bordered by healing scales, and his dorsal fin spine is back in working order. You check up on him still, every other day or so, careful to monitor them in case you have somehow healed him wrong, careful to keep your regular intersections with him, because although you would never admit it to him, he is amusing, and he keeps the darkness at bay.

You are unsure what he thinks of you. Sometimes, he smacks you upside the head with no real force, and you dare to label it as affectionate. He gives you the name which he gives to those that mean more to him than strangers, too - well, you wring it out of him.

(“Bakugou, what’s your name?”

A scoff. “Witch, have you hit your head?”

“We both know you’re not obliged to answer, so if you’re not going to tell me, spare me the insults.”

Pause. “Katsuki. It’s Katsuki.”)

There are times when he has nightmares, too. You surmise that most of them are about Deku, and that the scar branding his chest, the one made by a merfolk forged weapon, is linked somehow to this dead human. Incomprehensibly, he mutters in his sleep, snarling about krakens and storms and sometimes even witches, but it always leads back to Deku.

Sometimes he protests against him, speaking a language you do not fully understand, cursing and thrashing so hard you fear the tub will splinter, while sometimes he proclaims his love, his voice slurred as he slumbers, but each time, without fail, he begs: forgive me, Izuku, forgive me, Deku, I’m sorry.

Katsuki is unaware of what he gives away in his sleep. Often, he settles down quickly after raising his voice, but sometimes you look over to see him stiff and terrified and shake him awake; he then jolts upright, the water sloshing out of the tub as he reaches for you, his stricken eyes searching yours for something you do not know the identity of, but he always finds.

He does not let you go, not ever. At these times, you lean or sit by the tub and let him crush your fingers in his grip.

He never speaks of it in the morning.

You would not hide from him what you have learnt, nor the feelings that grow treacherously in your heart, but you are too cowardly to tell him of either. It is certain that he loved Deku, and that maybe Deku loved him too. What was it like, you often wonder, to have loved Katsuki?

When he holds onto you, still half lost in the dark lands of his nightmares, you think about it. He would have been less guarded, a young merman not yet covered in scars; he would have given Deku his name immediately, for he would not have learnt that he needed to be wary of humans. Still, he would have fought for him until the end with the same ferocity he would fight for his own heart - because Deku was his own heart.

And Deku, you imagine Deku saw people as they really were. You imagine Deku with bright eyes and a brighter smile, with a face that all his emotions could be read off as easily as a book. He must have been good, persistent, if Katsuki had fallen for him. Soft, even, but tough when he needed to be.

They fit each other, no doubt.

You feel guilty, as if your speculations are invasive, rummaging around within Bakugou’s heart where he has not let you set foot. Mercifully, he can pin his red eyes on you as much as he likes, which he often does, but he will not hear your mind.

Now that he is healed, that is how you pass your days, exchanging words with him when either of you wish to, while you wrestle with the unspoken in your head and while god knows what happens behind his eyes. It is normal for silence to fall after a conversation - it is not awkward, but not comfortable either. It is pensive, it is familiar.

And today, it is shattered by screams up on deck.

Katsuki perks up, his keen ears picking up things your dull ones cannot, and he tilts his head, listening intently. You do not have to hear what he does to know what is happening: there is the sound of clashing steel above you, the all too familiar war cries of the hunters. It is not often that the merfolk are prepared for the hunters as they pass by, but neither is it impossible.

The ship lurches, harshly enough that some of the water in Katsuki’s tub overflows. You wager it must be a whole pod, then, maybe two, and you glance over at him, wondering if he knows who they are, wondering if -

“Are they yours?” You blurt.

“Huh?”

“Your pod,” you clarify.

Bitterly, he scoffs. “If the merfolk wanted to rescue me, they wouldn’t have waited months.”

You freeze. The detachment in his voice does nothing to hide the betrayal beneath, and ice begins to crawl up your spine, for he addresses them as the merfolk, not as his kind, his people. Harshly, you swallow as you start to understand that the hunters would never have been able to capture a merman if he wasn’t alone.

“You don’t have a…” You trail off, feeling far too inadequate and stupid to continue.

“My pod renounced me the moment they learnt about Deku and I.”

A picture forms in your mind, of a Katsuki who lost his family because he gave away his heart to a human - of a Katsuki to which the sea was no longer home, but a huge expanse of alone. Horror closes over your head like cold water as your eyes slide down to the scar on his chest.

His pod didn’t stop at just renouncing him.

You had always hoped that beings whose very essence was rooted in magic would be fair and just as the tales said. Your hope had always been that the merfolk would see that humanity was not united in the purging of them, that they would spare you if your path ever crossed theirs. Never did you think they would be so blind as to turn on one of their own for something as reliant on fate as love. You are a fool.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and it comes out almost like a sob.

“We are no better than you are,” he replies.

His voice is so devoid of hope that it cuts you to the quick. You open your mouth so say more, to try and fill that emptiness inside him if you can, but your words are stuck in your throat and before you can force them out the door flies open, banging loudly against the wall and almost extinguishing the lamp’s flame.

Three gravely wounded are deposited in front of you and then the door slams. Silently, you get to work, sealing the deep slashes to their flesh more carelessly than you should be - but with Katsuki watching, you feel sullied, a betrayer who works for the purgers of magic. Their blood coats your tingling palms, and yet not in the way you wish it could be.

You have just finished the last when four more are dragged in, and you’re hit hard across the face and ordered to work faster, which signifies only one thing: more are coming. As blood wells up in your mouth, you hope that the merfolk are victorious, even if it means sinking the ship and letting you drown within.

Hate rises within you again, searing and acrid like smoke clogging your lungs, but this time it is different. You hate them for what they have made you; a tool, a means to an end. The determination you nurse in your heart is unimportant as long as you do what they say, and yet you cannot defy them, and this is what you hate yourself for.

Prickling sensations begin to claw up your arms as you heal. You are lost in it, the blood and the battle and the patients, and you swear you see the same faces twice: hunters who you healed once coming back more injured than last time. Your energy dwindles like a dying flame and you dip into your reserves when you recognise the violent light in the hunters’ eyes.

You cannot ask for a break. They already bay for blood and death; what more is yours but just another magic using bitch’s?

You are being bled dry. You are no longer aware of your surroundings, just the halting of the flow of blood beneath your hands and the wheezing gasp of your breath and the rattle of the chain locked around your wrist.

They have not been attacked like this in a long time. You almost forgot how fast the darkness closes in when you send out your energy through your palms to knit flesh and skin back together again. Spots cloud your vision, and futilely, you swat them away. Muffled, Katsuki’s voice hums in your right ear, but you do not understand the words he utters.

Your hands tremble. You pitch forward, slumping over your newest patient.

A hand fists in your hair. Knuckles press into your jaw, far harder than a lover’s touch and yet it feels like it in the way your head lolls slowly to the side. It takes time, but pain radiates through your skull, vibrating your teeth and sharpening your focus, and then you can hear yelling, yelling for you to wake up, yelling for you to carry on or they’ll kill you -

There are so many of them. So many hunters with frenzied eyes and blades that shine where they are not coated in innocent blood, and they are hurt and they want to return back to the battle and you must abide by their demands. The air is too thin as it whistles in and out of your lungs. You cannot think.

You press your palms to the blood slick abdomen of the next man placed down before you and do as they say. Your mouth is dry, your head pounds, your eyes won’t focus, and yet, you do as they say, you always do what they say.

What a fucking coward you are.

Letting them push you farther than you ever would let yourself go. You’re right on the edge, right over the edge, clinging onto the side of the perilously vertical cliff face even as the mossy stone crumbles beneath your fingers and threatens to make you fall down down down. But still, you heal. Your body performs numbly what your mind cannot take any more.

All of a sudden, there is not an open wound for you to heal or guts to force back inside a torso, there are just crimson soaked planks and a raised voice. Loud. An incensed, raised voice, cursing and roaring. Can’t you see she’s almost gone? They shout, earsplitting enough to make your head pound. She can’t heal you fucking bastards if she’s dead!

Bakugou. No, not that name. It’s… Katsuki. Katsuki making all that racket. You don’t know when it happened, but now your cheek is pressed to the rough planks that make up the floor. There’s blood everywhere. Some more splatters to the ground and you notice that the din isn’t being made by Katsuki any more. Your eyes are hazy as you lift them upwards and see a hunter raise his fist again.

“Kats,” you slur. “Watch… watch out…”

The lamp goes out, which is strange, since the oil got topped up this morning. You pay it no mind, though.

You’re too tired.

You wake surrounded by water. For a moment, you wonder if the merfolk won, and if somehow you managed to get tossed off the boat and into the sea, but then you move your leg and it hits something hard and vertical which must be wood. Peeling your eyes open, you find you’re in… the tub? Katsuki’s tub?

Lifting your head, you’re met with a pair of concerned red eyes. One is almost swollen shut, and blood has crusted down the side of his face from a wound in his temple, yet he smooths his hand soothingly over your upper back, watching attentively as you come to.

“You’ve been out for just under two days,” Katsuki says. “You need to eat, get your strength back up.”

Your memory begins to trickle back, and with it floods a torrent of shame: you always told yourself that you survived out of spite, out of the belief and conviction that one day you would hurt them enough to negate all the healing they made you to do, but it was all a pretence. You were scared and so you took the easier road of complacency, and it has caused the deaths of hundreds of merfolk.

It is without a doubt that if you had healed even just a papercut more, that if Katsuki had not stopped them, the life force within you would have winked out, and you would have died. Death had loomed right over you, brushing boney fingers over your face, and even now, it lingers.

You are burnt out, exhaustion weighing on you as if a whole mountain rests on your back. Worse is the fear, revealed in the blinding light, shackling you, for you are its slave, and you cannot shake its hold off you.

Your face crumples. “I am spineless, for letting them use me so. I am a coward, a - ”

“They give you no choice, witch,” Katsuki remarks. “Do not put it on yourself.”

You shake your head. “You cannot ask that of me. How many lives have been lost because I obeyed when the hunters told me to save them?”

Bowing your head, you sob. Fatigue envelops you, the chain around your wrist unspeakably heavy, and you lean heavily against Katsuki; he holds you like you are precious, handling you with care so that the pieces you have shattered into do not fall apart and scatter onto the floor. He tips up your chin, forcing you to look him in those eyes of his as he wipes away your tears.

“What was that you told me, as I wept like you do now?” He asks. “You need not bear the weight of your world on your shoulders. That was what you said to me.”

Nodding, you feel more tears leak out when you squeeze your eyes closed. He strokes your hair, and you hide your face in his chest and wish you could do forever, for he is warm and he is far gentler than you ever imagined he could be. You are tempted, but he nudges you and chides you, reminding you that you will feel much better once you have eaten.

Wobbly as a newborn fawn, you climb out of the tub, Katsuki steadying you with a hand on your arm. Wrapping one of your blankets around you like a shawl, you retrieve a hunk of bread to gnaw on before planting yourself on the tub’s rim, loath to be any farther away from him than you have to be.

Though hunger worries insistently at your insides, sending tremors through your hands and weakness in your legs, you force yourself to eat slowly; you cannot risk wasting any of the food by throwing up. Katsuki rests his forearms on the sides of the tub, watching you with a keen gaze that you cannot read. You become more aware of the purpling bruising across his face and reach out without thinking.

He catches your hand before you can tap into the slowly replenishing well of magic inside of you, his fingers circling your wrist before he lets them slip down and lace with yours. Something ignites behind his eyes, and you find you are mesmerised - you lean closer to see how the spark dances.

“Katsuki,” you breathe, and then your lips are on his.

He tips his chin up to lean into you, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulls you closer to him, so tender that it makes your chest ache. You could stay like this for eternity, simply doing nothing but tasting the salt of him on your tongue and savouring the sweet, sweet scrape of his canines over your lower lip; he is all that matters, all that is.

Slowly, his hands come round to cup your shoulders, pressing you closer to him, and so you feel the moment his grip falters and he stiffens, feel the way he recoils from you as if you have burnt him, and you can do nothing to prevent it. You’re propelled backwards with the force he jolts away. Though it is only a few steps, you feel the gap between you yawn wide, stretching into an uncrossable chasm.

“No,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “No, not - not like - ”

Abruptly, he falls terribly, terribly silent. Stunned, you touch a hand to your mouth; your legs buckle, and you throw out a hand to steady yourself against the wall before sinking to the floor. It feels as if you are drowning.

Katsuki does not love you - how can he, when he fits with Deku like they were made for each other? You were wrong to hope for anything else, wrong to give in to what you wanted, because you have torn open old wounds that never properly healed. It is no longer significant that he does not love you, for you should have seen that already; what matters is that in your blindness, you have ripped him open.

You’re beginning to realise that it was not the lamp that kept the shadows back, but him. It is only natural that you are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, only natural that you were too weak to resist flying straight into the fire. This time, it is not only the moth who gets hurt.

You are left alone with your thoughts. Time passes, as it always does, but you pay it no mind. However hard you try, you cannot bring yourself to meet his eyes. You are numb, numb to the slow rock of the ship as it cuts through the waves, numb to the sounds of the crew at their battle stations again, numb to it all now that it is undeniable: you love him.

He cannot love you.

Wearily, warily, you raise your head when the door opens, revealing the first mate, soaked in blood. Crossing the room in a few strides, he stands before you, chest heaving, a frantic sort of desperation contorting his face as he tightens his hand around the hilt of his sword and glares at you.

“The captain is near death. We drop anchor home in a fortnight. I will be put in command if he does not survive, and if this happens, I will make certain that you come upon a death slower and far more painful than his.”

You do not answer, nor do you pay any mind to his threats. You can sense Katsuki staring in your direction, the feeling of his red eyes on your skin unmistakable: no doubt, he has heard what you have. We drop anchor home in a fortnight - a fortnight until Katsuki is delivered into hands who seek to study him, to slit him open while he still lives and examine his insides and the way his heart beats, ensnared in the cage of his ribs.

Just like that, you know what to do.

You wait silently until they bring the captain to you. The first mate did not lie when he said the captain is near death. Sweat creates a sheen on his brow, and though his eyes are open, he is barely conscious, for he has been sliced open from gullet to navel by a merfolk blade. Briefly, you touch a fingertip to the lip of the gash, ignoring the pained moan it causes and the disquieted mutters of the other hunters.

If you were superstitious, you would deem the wound too similar to Katsuki’s to be anything but fate, but you do not believe in such things. Instead, you put your trust in the strength of good steel and the sharpness of a tongue. Yes, you know what to do, and you will do it.

The chain fixed around your wrist is not broken, but it does not have to be. You are free to do what you wish, because before you is the captain, and he is leverage. There is no fear left in you, no shame to hold you back as you look up at the first mate; he opens his mouth, about to ask why you do not jump to heal his captain, but he pauses when he takes in your cold smile.

“Free the merman, and then I will heal him.”

A silence falls. They are left with no other choice but to do as you say, and they know it. The first mate’s hands ball into fists, a reminder to you of what will come once Katsuki is let go and you heal their captain, but it does not concern you any more. None of it is of concern to you, only his freedom.

“What the fuck did you just say, witch?” Katsuki spits.

His voice jolts the first mate into action. He heaves you to your feet by the front of your shirt, seething, and punches you squarely in the nose. Something cracks. Your head snaps back, the air knocked from your lungs when he drives his knee into your stomach and lets you crumple to the floor by his feet. Gritting your teeth, you glower up at him.

“Come at me all you like,” you hiss as blood pours down your face. “It will not save your captain.”

He crouches down before you. You do not listen as he shouts at you, because you see it in his eyes. He knows you have them all backed into a corner, he knows you’re aware he will not risk the captain’s life. Over his shoulder, Katsuki urgently mouths something to you: do you know what they will do to you because of this? They will do worse than just kill you!

“Let them,” you reply, and as you gaze at him, you smile again. To the first mate, you say: “Bring me up on deck. I want to see.”

The first mate hurls you away from him, barking orders at the other hunters, but all you hear is the crash of the waves outside and all you taste is the nectar of victory on your tongue. You watch, still smiling, as they grab Katsuki and drag him from the tub. He fights, of course he does, screaming your name and slashing at the hunters, but there is but one of him, and he is unarmed.

Cursing, the first mate unfastens your chain from the ring in the wall, wrapping the length of it around his hand and jerking you forward with it, pulling you to follow him through the ship. There is murder written on his face and in the curl of his lip, and you let it slide it off you like water from a sea bird's feathers.

He throws open the hatch, and for the first time in years, you see the sun. Slowly, you step into the light, and the salty breeze tugs playfully at your clothes and hair, fresh and briney and strong, pulling tears from your eyes. All around you is empty space, just blue sea and blue sky and the wind that dances gloriously between them as far as you can see.

The air is invigorating and crisp in your lungs. Hesitantly, you take a step forward, then another and another, seeing the way the sun plays on the water’s surface, scintillating as it warms your cold skin. It is as resplendent as you remember it.

“Witch!” Katsuki cries, shaking the hunters’ hands off him. “Why? Why would you do this to yourself?”

There are countless ways you could answer him. Instead, you take him in one last time, his spiky ash blonde hair and his crimson eyes and the way his scales glitter under the sunlight. You do this for love: if you can’t give him your heart, you will give him his freedom.

“Go,” is all you say, and though tears stream down your face, you smile.

“I will not forget you, witch,” he replies, voice thick. “I swear it.”

Running to the side of the ship, you cling to the taffrail and lean forwards to watch as he dives overboard. He slices through the water, the amber of his tail bright as he goes, further from you with each passing second, and your breath catches in your throat - he is more beautiful than you imagined he would be in the light.

As he crests a wave, he looks back at you, and you see the shimmer of his scales and the graceful arc of his dorsal fin one last time before he twirls in the surf and dives. With that, he is gone, and you are alone again, yet you do not fear what is to come.

A hand grips your shoulder, nails digging sharply into your skin. “Enjoy your peace, you thankless bitch, because once you heal the captain, all you’re going to know is pain.”

You turn to the first mate and laugh in his face.

He loves you.

Bakugou Katsuki fucking loves you.

He loves your deft hands, careful despite their calluses and nimble despite the chain around your wrist. He loves the smell of you, herby and laced with petrichor. He loves the brightness dancing in your eyes when you laugh. Most of all, he loves your sweet soul: the fierceness woven into it like second nature, the blaze of your heart when you stand up for what you believe in.

He was stupid for pulling away from that kiss. You had fit your lips to his, and suddenly panic rose in his chest, and he jerked backwards as if ignoring his heart would silence it; he was scared to love another human, scared because last time it led to pain. His fear had hurt you, and this is his regret - that he was the one to cause the slow dimming of the light in your eyes.

There are countless other things he regrets. He should have trusted more easily, he should have fought harder as they yanked him out of that silly tub and away from you, and he should never have left you by yourself on that ship with those despicable hunters.

He didn’t tell you he loved you, and now he is scared he will never get the chance.

He has left you in a den of beasts. Deku would never have let this happen if it was Katsuki in danger. Deku would have found a way to get him out. In fact, Deku did, he saved him instead of himself, and now Deku is gone, and he fears his heart is not strong enough to lose another. He does not want to lose another.

That serene little smile on your face as you watched him go - it haunts him, fucking burns itself into his retinas, because you knew. You knew precisely what you were doing, when you bargained with that hunter’s life, and you knew exactly what they were going to do to you for making them let him go.

You must be hurting right now. You must have been beaten within an inch of your life. You, who broke down the walls he rebuilt, brick by brick, after Deku was gone - the same walls that Deku himself tore down too. Katsuki is beginning to think that their foundation has always been flawed, or maybe they crumbled like Jericho simply because you shine brighter than the sun on the waves, and he could not look away if he wanted to.

He has been tailing the ship for little over a day. Keeping out of sight and in the shadows is easy; he has felt the sting of their harpoons enough and he will not risk an injury when getting you away from them is the priority, yet he can’t help but resent the way he must hide. There is no other way, though. Currently, he has no plan, and he must bide his time.

Katsuki was never the most patient, but he has no choice but to be patient since he has no sword and no allies. It is plausible that he could scuttle the ship by himself, but he can’t risk it with you chained inside and possibly unconscious.

But then he sees it - a shape in the distance.

It is an isle, small enough that it could sustain maybe one hamlet of people, and rather plain, with rocks that make up a small cliff on one side and a sandy beach dotted with rock pools on the other, a thicket of trees spanning the distance between. One could call it nondescript, but there is nothing nondescript about it to Katsuki.

He has bled out on that golden beach. He has fought to protect his own life and the life of another in the waters near that isle, and he has failed. He has wept on that shore, wept enough to cleanse the blood soaked sand beneath his newly fixed body that held his newly broken heart.

That isle is where Deku washed up, half dead, a decade ago. It is where he watched from afar as this green eyed, freckled human nursed himself back to health, and where he watched from a little closer as he learnt that humans were more than what they are portrayed as in the tales of his pod.

He understood many things on that isle: what love was - the touch of his lips to a man with unruly green curls and an infectious smile, and what betrayal was - when his pod found out and the waters were tinted red because of it.

Just like that, he knows what to do.

Hidden in the underwater caves below the isle is a monster that slumbers until a soul dares to wake it. The humans call it a kraken, but the merfolk leave it unnamed, for it is too great to be reduced to a simple moniker. He has seen it once before, through the haze that descends over one close to death, and felt as its power stymied the lifeblood that poured hot from a wound spanning from the middle of his sternum to his navel.

Both he and Deku had lain on the beach after his pod ambushed, both bleeding from fatal wounds. He had been too fucking weak to get to the kraken first, and so Deku had been the one to sacrifice himself and give himself to the monster so Katsuki could live, when it should have been the other way round.

This time, though, he is strong enough.

He remembers slipping back into the ocean with his freshly healed wound so the saltwater of his tears mixed with the sea, unable to understand why Deku would leave him. Now, he understands all too well, and he will not fail to protect the one he loves again.

Summoning the kraken means no going back. After waking it, the summoner is transported into the kraken’s form, and they have a limited time within it before the kraken reaps its payment - the summoner’s soul. It will shatter their spirit and ensure they cannot return to their body.

Katsuki dives down deep, breaking away from the ship and swimming ahead of it to find the gaping mouth of the cave that the kraken slumbers within. He is far down enough that the water is murky, frigid as it weighs heavily on him, the sun a weak pinprick of light suspended somewhere above him that does nothing to pierce the gloom.

The entrance is curtained with seaweed, the cold fronds caressing his skin as he slips past them. Nestled in the darkness, it lies there, slumbering: a behemoth shadow, looming as high as the cavern’s ceiling and filling its width like the berth of a warship docked in a seaside hamlet’s harbour.

As he swims towards it, he realises he has already had his last glimpse of you through his own eyes. The last time he will see you, he will be fighting to keep hold of himself before he loses his soul to the kraken, and then it will just be bottomless darkness until it is summoned again. You might not even know it is him inside the monster.

It doesn’t matter - a lot has ceased to matter to Katsuki. He can no longer deny that he loves you, and with that epiphany comes another: you knew what the hunters would do to you when you bargained for his freedom, and yet you did it anyway, with no fear of the consequences. Now, it is his turn to put his life on the line for you, and though he may lose it, you will be free.

He will never feel the sweet touch of lips again, but that’s alright. He hopes that you will find another to make you happy, another who will make your heart soar and help you forget him. They will be to you what you were to him: a light to scare away the shadows, a star in the night sky to guide you, even if at times, just like him, you believe you do not wish to be guided.

Katsuki pictures your face as he draws near to the kraken.

Its flesh is odd beneath his palm - slippery and uncomfortably cold. Pressing his palm to its skin, he wills it awake, and it obeys him alarmingly fast, an eye as big as his head snapping open and rolling around until it fixates on him. An abyss of a pupil sucks him in, beckoning him forward to a place that will be the last he ever visits.

Though he knows his body remains still, he feels himself fall forward, sucked towards the magnetic emptiness within the kraken as if it aches to be occupied. For a moment, he resists, pure instincts making him struggle against it, but he forces himself to let go. Sensation briefly forsakes him.

When his vision is restored, he finds that he is looking at his body, limp and vacant. Already he can feel a difference in the water, the sharp tang of fear drifting toward him on currents that hadn’t been there before as creatures begin to flee, aware that something ancient has been roused from its sleep.

A tempest is brewing.

Katsuki - or a version of him that no longer is really Katsuki, but instead a wrathful monster caller - cannot see the dark clouds amassing above, but he knows they are scudding across the blue skies to taint the high midday sun, and it is his doing. Cruel winds accumulate in the shadows cast by his thunderhead, and he can hear the sharp snap of canvas and the raised voices of a crew readying their ship for a storm.

Unfurling a tentacle, he curls it around his old body, careful not to crush it, and reaches up high enough to deposit it on the beach. He begins to move the kraken out of the cave, dislodging pebbles that would have been boulders as the bulk of its body manoeuvres through the exit.

In a way, he is disconnected from the body that is his now; there is empty space that he is not large enough to occupy, like he has donned a garment made for a merman the size of a mountain. It is strangely silent inside this huge vessel, although he is not alone. Shadow wreathed souls lurk in the corners of his mind, and he knows they are disgusted by him.

He is not surprised. Historically, the kraken have been summoned only in the utmost peril. To the merfolk, the kraken are as sacred and as old as the sea, called upon in the wars of old, when the magic beings of the sky were eradicated. Despite being only scattered shards of themselves, the past summoners look down on him, because he does not summon to seek the solution to mighty matters.

For the second time in a lifetime, the kraken is being summoned for a cause as selfish as love.

There’s an awful symmetry to it, really. He imagines the way they must have abhorred Deku, a dying human who did not use the kraken’s power to destroy, but to knit together the wound of a simple, unnoteworthy merman.

Faces contorted beyond recognition flash before his eyes and hands claw at his sides with nails as vicious as knives. They want blood, they want a whole fleet to rip through and ruin. He tells them that they will have to settle with one ship, and they cry their discontent in his ears, their voices rough and rasping, like rusting metal on stone.

He has not broken the surface of the water yet. His body prowls many leagues down, but still, he spots the shadow cast by the ship, and the moment he does, his vision narrows, blurs, and he sees winking lights on board: the lives of the crew, twinkling and tantalising and begging to be snuffed out.

The kraken jets upwards and breaches, spraying up a wall of water, and though he does not command it, he bellows a war cry, the sound so bloodthirsty and wild it almost sweeps him up and incapacitates him. The shadow souls close in, fragments of vengeful souls garbed in shadow, greedy and eager to see him torn apart, and he shakes them off, wrenching himself from their grasp with all his strength.

A twinge pinches at his side, and he glances down to see a volley of harpoons glance off his hide, leaving shallow gashes in their wake. The crew swarm on the deck, their terror sour as he breathes it in and savours it. They are but ants, small and irritating with their measly weapons and made to be crushed and devoured -

He seizes the mast and uses it to rock the ship from side to side, fighting to keep the visions of blood staining the water red away from him. Too fast, his control is slipping, and he feels the souls swarm around him, filling his field of view with darkness until all he can see is those tiny flames that he must put out. There is something he wanted to do, something he needs to do -

Selfish, the souls hiss in his ears, trying to sink their hateful claws into him again, and he agrees with them.

He loves, and therefore he is selfish.

It is no bad thing.

The storm clouds gather over the ship, roiling and rumbling with thunder. Lightning strikes, a bolt of white fury that splinters the deck and extinguishes one of the little lives on board, producing a delighted cackle from the souls at his back, but he ignores them. He knows what he must do.

“Bring me the witch,” he roars.

His voice comes out warped and foreign, the words of men coming out strange and misshapen on his tongue, but the crew understand enough, scuttling to obey, desperate to believe he may spare them if they give you to him. The grip of the souls tightens, squeezing at his throat - he has spent too long in their presence already, and they nip at the edges of his mind, stealing away parts of him when he isn’t looking.

He realises with a jolt that he does not remember his name any more.

It is fine, though. He will join the souls in their namelessness soon. They are a cacophony in his head, and he can no longer hear anything but them, the burn of their claws threatening to tear him apart and shred him the way they are already torn apart, but he barely cares.

The little gnats bring another up and present it to him. This one shines brighter, suffused with a magic the souls cannot wait to devour, and they encourage him forward - surely he too will enjoy the honeyed taste of this offering? Plucking it off the ship’s deck, he brings it to his eye level, and his shadow companions clamour for him to crush it, but he hesitates.

It looks at him like it knows him. In its weak, tiny voice, it yells something that gets lost in the howl of the winds, but even so, it makes the souls shrink back, receding enough for him to remember that this little thing he holds is important. Important for what, he can’t recall, but it is important all the same.

Kicking its legs, the small being beats its fist on his tentacle, still shouting. He leans closer, wincing as the shadows scratch and tear at his back, trying to draw him away again.

“Katsuki!” You scream.

He jolts. It is you, his little, beloved witch - you are why he is being so selfish, summoning the kraken just to save one life. Peering closer, he notices that you are bruised all over, and suddenly the storm worsens overhead, crackling as bolts of lightning stab down like vindictive knives and the wind tears at the ship full of aghast hunters, tossing it violently among the waves.

Carefully, he places you on the beach, next to a body that used to be his. You scramble towards it, limping, and he turns away, looking back towards the ship and the lights it is infested with that still need to be destroyed. Anger comes easily to him, because these are the ones that have marred you with bruises.

The shadows close in again.

Roaring, he tears at the ship, rending it in two and crushing those that leap overboard, yet the souls are never appeased, never satiated. It feels as if power leaks out the seams of his spirit and if he does not let it go it will destroy him from the inside, but he knows he cannot let go. He needs to hold on, to hold himself together, for something that drifts further and further out of reach -

It is as if he has been tied to the bottom of a sea trench for so long, drowning in darkness, that the surface is just a fanciful thought. He does not remember the sun’s sweet face, nor the sound of your voice as you called out the name he has lost again. They sink their teeth into him, ready to tear him apart.

He struggles. He will not go without a fucking fight, he will not let them have him before he has tried valiantly to swim upwards to the sun, where the shadows will not survive.

But the light is so far from him. It floats away every time he strives to be closer, or maybe there are hands holding him back, ripping him open and tethering him to the blackness. They cling to him, shrieking in his ears, sinking curved claws into him and refusing to let go, ready to reap the kraken’s payment.

He is losing himself.

And then - a hand, gentle, touching his face. Emerald eyes fill his vision, wide and lovely, and suddenly he is able to ignore the souls and their blaring dissonance, the pain in his side fading away into nothing. There is a soul that still remains named here, mixed in with those who have been rent apart by hate.

“Kacchan,” the soul says earnestly. “You must fight it, Kacchan.”

“Deku,” he sobs, leaning into the soul’s warm palms as he wipes his tears away. “I’m sorry.”

Deku smiles, and Katsuki weeps, because he looks so proud of him, as if he is worth an eternity spent trapped within a kraken alongside shattered souls that only wish for chaos and destruction. He weeps, because here are Deku and Kacchan, back together again, but they cannot stay this way forever.

“I understand,” Deku whispers, and his touch heals Kacchan once more. “I understand you love her. You need to fight, you need to return to her and love her like you want to. I died so you could live, Kacchan. Let go.”

He looks down and sees the way he clutches onto Deku so hard he is white knuckled, while Deku cradles his hands in his scarred ones, softly as if Kacchan is fragile. Trembling, he loosens his grip, and he feels the light draw closer, the sun’s rays warming his face. Something tightens in his chest when he finally allows himself to release Deku, but it hurts in the manner of stitches pulling taut inside him and binding him together again.

One last time, he looks over his shoulder, to where Deku watches as he goes, smiling brightly, shining like he is a star plucked from the night sky. His brilliance holds the shadows back, rendering them powerless. He pays them no mind, though - his viridescent eyes are lit up and fixed only on his Kacchan.

Deku says something, but the sound of his voice is drowned out by the crashing of the waves and the winds of a dying down of a storm. Still, Katsuki knows what he said by the shape of his lips: I love you. Smiling, he takes a final look at him, at those unruly green curls and those sweet eyes and bright smile, and then he turns and is bathed in light.

The kraken sinks again beneath the waves, but Katsuki does not sink with it.

You know it’s impossible, but you sense the moment Katsuki is back in his body. You’ve heard the tales of the kraken, and you know he should have been taken from you, but there he is, present in the weak pulse of his heart beneath your palm and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Shallow cuts have appeared all over his body, remnants of the damage of the hunter’s harpoons.

His eyes are open, but barely, and he blinks slowly, fighting to keep them fixed on you, giving you only glimpses of familiar crimson. There is a strange looseness to his awareness that must come with the recency of doing the impossible, but still he grips your hand desperately, struggling to stay awake long enough to force words out.

“I - I lo - ”

Before he can finish, his voice cracks and he coughs. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to start again, but you smile, tears blurring your vision as you press a finger to his lips and hush him, and thankfully he relaxes under your touch, curling closer to you and seeking shelter in your embrace. Once he is rested, he will have all the time in the world to tell you whatever he likes.

What matters is that he is here. That in itself is beyond even a miracle.

Almost disbelieving, you cradle him to you, pressing your forehead to his as tears you cannot stop spill down your face and mingle with his blood. You are bone tired after repeatedly healing your own cracked ribs and fractured wrists, but you are whole enough for now - you won’t waste your energy on your own bruises while he still hurts.

So you hold him against your chest, sweeping your fingers delicately over the deeper of his cuts to seal them. The sky has cleared, the storm clouds departing as fast as they arrived, and the sea is dipped in ruby by the bleeding sunset. It lacquers the wet sand with the glow of dying embers as the incoming tide smooths over where the storm had churned it up, erasing the mark left on the island as if this afternoon had never happened.

If it were not for Katsuki in your arms, it would be like the kraken never came.

You glance down at him. He seems at peace, though worn and battered, as if he has reconciled something deep within his heart; he has closed his eyes, simply leaning against you with his face pressed into your side, his warm hands tucked just beneath the hem of your shirt.

You cannot help but smile. Because of him, you are free. No chains bind your wrists, no threats limit you in what you decide to do next. You are not sure where you will end up later, but for now you intend to fall asleep beneath the open sky, beside the one you love infinitely more than any life you might have had and even this new life he has fought and bled to give you.

When you drift out of your dreams - just simple, golden things full of a contentment that lingers past waking - the tide is high, the ocean lapping at the sand at your feet. The moon is almost at its highest point in the sky, depositing a residue of silver on everything around you.

Katsuki stirs in your arms, and when you glance down, you are met with the twin beacons of his eyes, luminous in the dark and full, brimming and spilling over with unspoken things that leave a deep ache in your heart. Trembling, he grips your hands, and you lace your fingers with his, brushing your lips over his knuckles and stroking his face as the tears begin to flow.

He cries like he is mourning. You wonder what he saw while his soul donned the kraken’s skin, how poignant it must have been to wrench these fitful sobs from him. Cupping his face in your palms, you wipe his tears away, and he clings to you to keep you close while he bares his newly healing heart to you; it is wrapped in the past’s scars. He shows you the rawest parts of him, and you soothe them as best you can with your healing hands.

There is no magic to this cure, though. It is just the love that burns within you, consuming you so entirely it makes you shake. You did not know it was possible to love like this, but the proof weeps in your arms, a merman who summoned the kraken and somehow conquered it so he could make it back to you.

“Tell me,” you whisper, tracing the strong lines of his face with your fingertips.

Curling his arms around you, he hides his face in your neck. “Deku stood with me against the dark inside the kraken,” he replies softly. “He held them back so I could come back to you. I - I thought I had lost him forever, when he summoned the kraken to save me.”

Carefully, he brings your hand to touch the scar stretching down his chest, and you outline its edges, comforted by the warmth of his body and the steadiness of his breathing beneath your fingers. You would be happy to stay like that forever, linked to him by your skin on his and the synchronised beat of your hearts.

“He told me to fight so I could return to you,” Katsuki murmurs. “So I could love you.”

Your breath catches, your voice sticking before any words come out. He is blunt and honest as always, but this time, he is without his walls, without his guard up, open and vulnerable for you to lash out at him if you wished to, but he trusts you will not. Still, you hesitate, your throat constricting.

“I… I didn’t know him, or what he was like, but I know I can’t be him to you,” you falter. “I cannot be Deku, Katsuki.”

You do not expect your voice to come out so small, so timid. Neither do you expect the overwhelming tenderness that fills his eyes - no one has ever looked at you like that, as if they really see the whole of you, the blemishes and shadows on your soul and they love those too.

“I don’t ask you to be like him,” he replies. “No one will ever be like him. No one will ever be like you, either. I love you because you are you, not because you are him.”

“Katsuki,” you breathe, unable to swallow down the tears welling in your eyes.

“You know I can’t give you the life you deserve, either,” he continues, voice thick. “If you tie yourself to me, you tie yourself to the sea too, regardless of if you like it or not.”

Searchingly, you look at him, and it feels for a second that as you meet his eyes, you know the whole ocean, down to its unexplorable depths, down to every grain of sand and every critter it shelters and sustains. In that moment, there is a total, utter understanding within you - you would love him whatever the condition.

“I would tie myself to the most pitiful of the things on this earth if it meant I could love you, Katsuki.”

“I too, witch,” he replies, and a fond little smile pulls at his lips. “I would summon that kraken a thousand times if it meant I could win your heart.”

You laugh, out of pure joy more than anything else, and he laughs too, rolling in the sand so he can prop himself up on his elbows. Flopping over, you adjust yourself so you can rest your head against his stomach, lifting your eyes to watch as he tips his face up to the sky, letting the stars reflect in his gaze, as if he holds the galaxies of the universe in each pupil.

Your fingers find his as you stare up at the moon where it hangs highest in the sky now, full and silver as the stars. A new moon: symbolising fresh starts and new beginnings, or maybe even the waxing of a love that was planted in the darkness of the brig of a ship soaked in blood, nourished by nothing but the weak flame of a lamp and swift hands knitting flesh back together.

A familiar prickle trails coyly down the side of your neck, and the sound of sand whispering against itself reaches your ears as Katsuki shifts beneath you, lightly skimming the high tide’s surf with his tail. You are not ready to leave the easy silence you’ve made yet, so you bask in his presence and his warmth a little longer.

The moon has just begun its descent when you turn to face him. He’s just looking at you, looking and looking and looking as if he can’t get enough. You smile, aware of the fresh edge in his gaze that was not there before, the string binding your soul to his pulling delightfully taut.

“You’re as beautiful as the ocean,” he mumbles, fiddling with a lock of your hair. “More beautiful than the ocean. But in a different way, you’re…”

You grin. “Worse?”

“Worse,” he agrees, smirking, but he looks at you as if you breathed life into his seas. “Much worse.”

Time stops for a moment, and you sit up, bringing your face close to his until your breaths mingle - you cannot help but let his crimson eyes consume you, heart and soul. You linger there for a moment, the air crackling between you, both of you waiting as if to see who will give in and pounce first.

Bringing his hand up, Katsuki lets his fingers slide under your jaw, lifting your chin so you are merely a hair’s breadth away. He fills your senses; you can feel the warmth of his body, the roughness of the calluses on his fingers, the feather-like brush of his breath against your cheek, smell his briney sea scent, hear the swish of sand as he shifts infinitesimally closer. A lethal spark gleams in his eyes, tying you in helpless knots.

You lean forward and claim his lips.

It draws a quiet groan from him, and suddenly you are beneath him in the sand and his hands are all over you, grabbing handfuls of you and shucking the damp material of your shirt up and over your head so he can touch your skin. The way he looks at you, with those stirring embers that tug at something low in your stomach, reduces you to a sailor under the influence of a siren’s song - he is irresistible, he is magnificent.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him ever closer, licking into his mouth as if you might find the god’s nectar hiding beneath his tongue. He nips at your lower lip with those keen canines of his, and you cannot help but buck your hips as the tide swirls around the both of you.

Chuckling, he skims a palm over your thigh, pulling your leg up to hook over his hip. It brings your clothed core right against the length of his hardening cock that has emerged from the slit in his tail; you stifle a moan at the feel of him, grinding agonisingly slowly down on him and sighing as he trails wet kisses and purpling bites down your throat.

Katsuki licks at the spot under your jaw, and this time, at the second graze of his teeth against your skin, your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at it and squeezing another sweet noise from him. You keep your hands threaded through his ash blonde locks as he licks at the valley between your breasts. Meticulously, he marks your plush flesh with the imprints of his teeth, laying his claim on you.

When he reaches your stomach, he mouths at your skin, nipping playfully just over your hip bone before he raises his eyes to meet yours. They are heavy lidded and sultry, and they stir the fire building in your core as he toys lazily with the waistband of your trousers. His fingers are casual as they curl beneath the fabric.

“Let me taste you, witch,” he implores.

“I cannot argue when you look at me like that,” you reply, breathless. “Nor would I, anyways.”

That is all the consent he needs before he is helping you out of your remaining clothes, almost ripping them in his hurry to have you on his tongue. His hands slip beneath you, gripping your ass and guiding your legs over his shoulders, and there he pauses. Yearning blazes in his crimson eyes, and then he dips his head and puts his mouth on you.

You gasp his name. Your hands scramble for purchase before you bury them in his hair again, yanking to encourage him further, and he responds by sucking harshly on your clit, making your hips jump and buck into his face. He groans into your heat, and the vibrations of it make you see stars.

Slowly, he pulls back, glancing up at you, and the sight of him is enough to make you moan: his eyes are glazed, fervent, worshipful, and your slick drips down his chin, the moonlight making it seem like liquid diamond. Bewitched by him, you choke out his name, and he smirks and slips two fingers inside you. Your legs begin to shake when he pumps them slowly in and out of you, bending them at the knuckle so he can hit that spot inside you.

The friction enraptures you, mounting in the pit of your stomach and winding up tight, and your thighs close around his head, clenching as Katsuki pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Turning his head, he sucks at your skin, marking you there, too.

You balance on a knife blade’s edge.

Abruptly, he slides his fingers out and your pussy clamps down a second too late; already, you open your mouth to lament it when he bends his head and replaces them with his tongue. Your words dissolve into wretched moans; you grind your hips against his face and lightning spears through you when his nose nudges at your clit.

Pleasure rises within you, a gradual, swelling thing that sneaks up on you in the unhurried nature of his movements. You can feel his smile against your cunt. You can feel the light burn as he grips your flesh, anchoring you to him so you could not pull away and part him from the taste of you even if you wished to.

You cry out his name as you come.

Katsuki nestles you close to his chest as you come down from your high, kissing your face as the aftershocks send shivers down your spine. Tenderness resides in his eyes, right beside a longing that makes you melt into him, weak with ardour as you slip your hand between your sea damp bodies to curl your fingers slyly around his cock.

His lips part as you jerk him, and you cross the small distance between you to bite at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and swiping your tongue over it as you feel him grow impossibly harder in your palm. Ridges swell down his length, flushed a coruscant orange that blurs down into obsidian at his base.

Tipping your head back, you look him in the eye. “I - I need you inside me, Katsuki.”

The words are clumsy on your tongue. You do not know how to articulate the pressing need to feel him, to not know where you end and he begins, to collide with him right there on the beach of this island that houses a kraken, to get lost in the salt on his skin and the eddy of the sea at your joined hips.

Lowly, he curses, treating you as if you are holy as he spreads your legs and settles between them, gripping the curve of your hip with one hand as he lines himself up. You press your lips against the warm bronze skin of his shoulder, sighing against him, urging him forward, urging him closer, a blissed out sound slipping from you as the ridges of his cock push past your entrance, the stretch nothing short of divine.

At last, he is sheathed fully within you. His hips kiss yours, and he remains there, pulsing hotly within you, the pleasure on his face bordering on pain as your cunt bears down on him, yet still, he will not move. Jaw clenching, he squeezes his eyes shut, and a hoarse groan tears itself from deep in his chest.

Panting, he bows his head, and when he looks up, tears rim his lash line, glittering like individual crystals dipped in the light of the stars. One rolls down his cheek and plops down onto yours, and you raise a hand to caress his face, raking your fingers through his hair to push it back from his forehead; he leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm.

Slipping your hand round to cup the nape of his neck, you bring your mouth to his. Delicately, Katsuki kisses you before pulling back to press his lips feather-light to your eyelids - he lingers there, his breath fluttering warmly against your skin, his thumb drawing circles on your cheekbone.

Again, he kisses you, and it is only then that you taste the salt of your own tears on his tongue.

Your soft, raw sob echoes across the beach, and you dig your nails into his wide shoulders, urging him to move. With a gasp, he begins to rock his hips into you, and it breaks you apart. You keen, pushing back into his fluid, achingly unhurried strokes, scrabbling at his back in an attempt to bring him closer, to let him consume your very being.

Right there on the sand, under the moonlight with the seafoam lapping at your sides, he fucks into you, slow and deep, trembling and crying above you, and tenderly, you kiss him again. The roll of his thumb over your clit sends thrills chasing down your spine. He dips his head, burying his face in your neck, and fiercely, you hold him to you.

“Mine,” Katsuki whispers, and his teeth sink into your skin.

Something snaps inside you, and the fire in your gut blazes. Your cunt clenches hard around him, vice like around his cock, and you feel him twitch when your velvety walls clamp down on him, feel his soft exhale and know that he too knows the burn of the inferno in your core.

“Please, Katsuki,” you whine. “Harder.”

“Fuck,” he growls, his voice rasping in your ear, and suddenly you are empty.

Before you can protest, he flips you over, pressing your back into his chest and you reel, momentarily blinded by the night sky stretching high and wide above you. He is solid beneath you, and he knocks the breath from your lungs when he surges up into you.

You can feel all of him. Ruthlessly, Katsuki pounds up into you, as if he is desperate to taste the sea salt on your skin and inhale your scent and never let you go. Your body jerks with each thrust, your voice cracking as you cry out his name, the new heady angle of his cock inside you leaving you writhing, lost in the bliss he wrings from you.

His tail thrashes in the surf as he fucks up into you. You are limp in his arms, trembling all over as your back arches - he squeezes your breasts in one hand while the other settles between your legs, his skilled fingers working over your clit to kindle a mind shattering type of euphoria within you that renders you boneless and speechless, your jaw slack.

Your head falls back on his shoulder, your eyes falling shut as you moan, your pussy constricting tight around him. A hand circles your throat, squeezing lightly, and you mewl, your cunt unashamedly spasming at the feel of his calloused fingers about your neck.

“Let the moon and stars witness how I pleasure you, my love,” he snarls.

Your eyes roll, your toes curl. Somehow, he fucks up into you faster, harder, and his cock hits places that cause your vision to white out, the relentless friction of his ridges on your walls enough to make you sob and claw at the arm he uses to keep you in place. Distantly, you can hear yourself begging him, pleading for him to go harder, deeper, to not stop, to ruin you.

You scream Katsuki’s name as you come for the second time tonight. Uncontrollably, your thighs shake, and your cunt convulses around his cock; you can feel him slowing his thrusts, letting you ride out your high, but despite the overstimulation building in the tautness inside your stomach, you grind against him.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Want - want you to come inside me.”

Your words elicit a groan from him. “Fucking filthy, aren’t you?”

Helplessly, you whimper in response, your pussy fluttering as he hammers up into you. He swears as he comes, spilling hot inside you, the sweet sound he makes muffled when he bites down on your shoulder. Both of you lie there for a moment, catching your breath, before gently, he manoeuvres the two of you so you lie on your sides, careful to keep himself deep in your heat; he is warm against your back.

Katsuki splays a palm over your stomach, holding you close, and you lace your fingers with his, sighing happily as he begins to pepper kisses over your back. You can feel the upwards curve of his lips as he smiles against your skin.

“Are you alright?” He asks, nuzzling the nape of your neck.

“Better than alright,” you confirm.

You remain silent for a while longer, happy just to lie there cocooned in his arms and the quiet wash of the ocean; you can feel the pulse of his heart against your back, steady and comforting. A hushed, steady noise comes from him, a satisfied noise, almost a purr. His cock is beginning to soften inside you, its ridges coming down - you both groan as he slips out, moving so his length is tucked against the curve of your ass.

“How did you know it was me?” He asks suddenly. “When I summoned the kraken.”

You squeeze his hand. “I saw you in its eyes. You know, I couldn’t have missed it if I tried, especially not when you yelled for the hunters to bring me to you. I heard it all the way from below deck.”

He laughs, and you shuffle closer to him, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“I didn’t even know the kraken was a real thing,” you tell him. “I wasn’t scared, though. I knew I’d be safe when I saw it was you.”

Katsuki scoffs. “You’re horrendously sappy, witch.”

You laugh, pushing your ass back against him. “I think you like it, merman.”

Laughing, you roll to and fro in the sand, with you grinding on him as he grips your hips and tries to wrestle you into submission. Eventually, he manages to incapacitate you by holding you tightly against his chest, dipping his head so he can whisper hotly in your ear.

“Keep that up and I’ll have to fuck you again,” he grits out.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” you challenge.

Giggling, you wriggle out of his grip and plunge further into the shallows, just catching him muttering something about insatiable and damn witch before he dives in and streaks after you, his dorsal fin cutting through the water. A hand closes around your ankle, and you squeal, flailing as you shake him off.

Clumsily, you take off towards the rock pools, wading through the sea water as fast as you can. You know Katsuki will catch you (you’re not exactly opposed to it - you’re running into the sea rather than out of it, after all). Again, he makes another grab at you, and you romp with him in the waves, grinning as you fend him off by splashing water at him, squirming out of his arms again.

In the end, he grabs you around the waist and traps you against one of the tide pools, the rock rough against your back as he smirks down at you. The sight of him above you is enthralling: droplets run down his chest in rivulets, rolling down the grooves his muscles make, and the moon hangs the sky behind him, crowning him with a halo made of silver. Your mouth waters.

Taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, he brings his face close to yours. A shiver runs down your spine. His red eyes fill your vision, glowing in the night, hypnotic and burning with craving so devout it borders on veneration.

He smiles. “Caught you.”

Katsuki takes you again, against the rock at your back. Afterwards, you lie there, spent and tangled together in the waning moonlight until you grow hungry again and you straddle him, mesmerised by the sight of him staring up at you, pleasure twisting his features as you ride him. You fuck and make love until the sun begins to rise, and it is only then that the two of you are finally sated.

So there you lie, held in his arms and the sea’s embrace - and inexplicably, you find that you do not regret all the pain you suffered at the hands of the hunters, because if it was not for them, you would never have been in that brig to heal him. Inside you, something blossoms within your soul, young and fresh and beautiful as the new moon, and it spills forth from your lips, a whispered confession pressed to his skin like a kiss.

“I love you, Bakugou Katsuki.”

Cupping your jaw, he brings his forehead to yours and murmurs your name. “I love you too.”

Katsuki glances down at you, where you are curled into the curve of his side like you were made to fit him, and he feels his failing, tired heart bloom once again. You have healed him in ways that run deeper than just his flesh.

He looks in your eyes, and when he does, the sea looks back.

You are his home.

A/N: by the way guys, afterwards they travel somewhere cool and the reader sets up a lil witchy abode by the sea and the villagers come to her for cures and half of them are lowkey a bit terrified of her mermaid husband but it doesn’t matter because she still gives really good remedies and he hasn’t eaten anyone yet and sometimes she and bakugou go out in their boat and attack hunter ships for funsies

also here's a picture i found off pinterest which i kind of imagine his tail being like except it's a bit more rigid and the dorsal fins are more spiney and longer, also there's more black and less red

taglist: @freakingsparkydreamer @d1orhaz3 @msjaeger @mellasimp14 @eyesforbkg @cottagedumpling @silkdolli @teeesthings @raksstuff

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angel-sweets666 · 4 months ago

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stuck together chapter II

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin.

Warnings: suicide of a character, death and dead bodies (flash backs or nightmares) mentions of war, threats of execution. Wet dreams (smut) talks of impregnating, thoughts of breeding. Slight breeding kink, swearing, slight time skip

first chap here

A/n just wanna warn yous deku is not a good person in this AU, think of like a bad ruler. Someone who acts nice and then executed like a bunch of people. A hypocrite

Bakugo tapped his index finger against the wooden table, his eyebrows furrowing. Clear frustration on his face. Staring up at the map then at the two guards before him, a blonde and a redhead. Both large men with equally frustrated looks on the faces.

“well what do you think we do?” Denki asks, staring at his two other companions “that lands too rugged, not good.” Kirishima rubs his chin in deep thought. “You idiots! It’s obvious here!” “Too close to the monoma kingdom, he’ll obliterate it the moment he sees it.” Kirishima interrupts bakugo, trying to knock some sense into the prince. The electric blonde looks back over the map, staring at the multiple empty lands. Most of which were once war grounds.

“we could… go here!” He points to a green patch, several kilometres long and wide. It be perfect, If only it wasn’t where bakugo fought in a bloody war.

flash back

bakugo heaves as he looks to his left over his shoulder, dead bodies. He looks forward. More dead bodies, most of which were of todorokis soilders. “Stand down Bakugo. Your gonna loose!” A tall red headed man booms out, standing next to a once alive horse, now dead and laying down. “No…. I won’t….” Bakugo straightens his back and grabs his sword. Letting out a loud war cry (scream) before lunging at the huge red headed man, his act of bravery to avenge his men who were now cold bloody and dead on the floor. Leaving their wives, children, siblings and parents behind just to fight in this war for him.

back to now

Bakugo snapped out of his flash back , placing a gentle hand on the large burn mark on his side, a scar from a brutal war. The scar now healed over and nothing but scar tissue. "Todoroki battlegrounds, can’t do the plan there " he mumbled to Denki and Kirishima. Neither of them had been at the war; they were still in training at the time. If only katsuki could’ve just trained at that time, he was only 18 where the first war he fought in happened

Denki rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Like everything is Todoroki battlegrounds! It's taken your family, what, seventy years just to get Flamoria to back off? This whole continent is practically Todoroki battlegrounds!"

Bakugo glared at him but couldn't entirely disagree. "There. Still battlegrounds, but fifty nine year-old battlegrounds," he said, pointing to a large plain of land in the distance. The expanse was unclaimed by any kingdom, a constant reminder of the war's devastation.

. “Are you sure bakubro?” Kirishima asks, his pupils turning to slits. A feature almost all purebred dragons have. “It’s fine shitty scales.” Bakugo grumbled as he looks to Denki “huh?! Oh yeah.. it’s uh.. very green!” Denki stuttered, nodding his head “good, here’s final” he takes a pen and circled the large land. Chucking the pen back onto the wooden table “there, done.” Bakugo said as he arose from his chair and began walking out the room, kirishima quickly rolling up the map and grabbing it before scrambling to keep up with the two blondes

You heard the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing through the stone hallway outside your chambers. Curious and slightly annoyed, you peeked out the door to see three men you knew all too well: Kirishima, Bakugo, and Denki. Their boots clomped loudly against the floor, disrupting the quiet.

Frustration bubbled up as you leaned against the doorframe, placing your weight on one hip. "Can you three keep it down?" you shouted, your voice sharp.

Bakugo spun around, his expression already irritated. "What are you on about, woman?!" he yelled back, clearly not in the mood for any complaints.

"Can't a girl sleep?" you retorted, your tone matching his.

Denki and Kirishima scrambled to get on their knees and apologize, "We’re sorry, your highness! We didn’t mean to wake you!" They looked so apologetic and sweet that you couldn't help but smile. "It’s alright, hons. I’m yelling at Bakugo," you reassured them. Sometimes you wondered, "Why can’t Kirishima or Denki be the future king? Then I’d marry them," because they were such sweethearts.

Bakugo grumbled, "You’re not my mother."

"No, but I’m your future wife. Close enough," you teased, unknowing to bakugos already bad mood. You didn’t know that when he had nightmares or reminders of war he got angry and sometimes… physical

His eyes darkened with rage. "Excuse me? I am the future king, and you will not speak to me like that unless you want to end up in the dungeon with your head hacked off! His voice boomed as he got close to your face, causing you to back up in fear.

"Kat…Katsuki?"

"WHAT?!" he roared, his voice filled with venom, making your heart race.

You backed up again, trembling. "S-sorry…" you stammered, scrambling to get back into your chambers, your heart pounding in your chest.

“way harsh man she was only teasing..” kirishima mumbled “I don’t give a fuck she needs to learn her place.” Bakugo spits back, his flared up anger bubbling to a cool. Beginning to walk up the hall again, yanking the map from kirishimas hands and storming away. The two boys looked shocked! Bakugo was always so calm with women, rude? Sure, very. He made fun of and were rude with women, but never yelled at them. Same goes for children and the elderly. what was going on??

bakugo walked up the halls to his bedroom chambers, trying to take deep breaths. “Bakubro what’s going on man?” Kirishima asks “yeah! Ever since we thought of the plan you’ve been acting all funny!” “IM NOT ACTING FUNNY!” Bakugo yelled in response “You just threatened to execute *name* by hacking off her head.”

bakugo sighed “just..! Leave me alone. I’ll see you idiots later” bakugo walked into his chambers and slammed the door in his guards face. “Who put a stick up his ass?” Denki mumbled as the two marched to their posts outside the palace.

You sat in your room, shocked at what had just happened. How could bakugo just threaten you like that? He was rude to you, ignored you ect but never threatened you! You slowly sat down on your bed, staring off into nothing. The way he yelled at you, they were right when they said he was terrifying. You thought you two were warming up to eachother, clearly not.

you laid down in bed and tried to go to sleep, but you were very shaken up from the incident it took you a while to fall asleep. The way Katsuki looked at you like you were nothing more than a block in his way just shook you to the core. Bakugo on the other hand was completely fine! As if he didn't just threaten to kill you. He was sleeping soundly in his bed of furs.

however as time went on and the clock ticked to early in the morning, katsukis once peaceful sleep became that of a nightmare.

nightmare

bakugo heaved on the ground, a todoroki soilder standing over him menacingly. One that was particularly short. He clicked his tongue as he crouched down over bakugo “I thought you were strong? Didn’t you kill lord Izuku? That’s what they all said, you stabbed him right in the chest. Cold blooded killer you are.” He harrassed bakugo, an attempt to scare him “I didn’t fucking kill him he killed himself.” He spat back, unable to move due to the blade of the soilder right near his neck under his jaw. “ then howd they find him with YOUR blade in his chest and you gone?” The soilder asked “I- left him alone for five god damn minutes!” Flash backs of the day Izuku was interrogated and tortured by members of bakugos court, the screams of his once childhood friend turned mortal enemy rang in his ears. In a desperate attempt to escape the torture he stabbed himself with katsukis sword with scary aim

right in the dead centre of his chest.

back in real word

katsuki shot up in a cold sweat, panicking. These nightmares had been getting worse and worse, he knew izuku deserved it! But the boy was once his child hood friend, and an ally to his kingdom. Only for when he took over to put his kingdom in insane amounts of debt, poverty and famine. He was a horrible person as he got older, bakugo had to do something! The man got up, wiping up remaining sweat from his body with a rag. Taking a walk down the hallway, he paused by your chamber doors. you.

the woman who seemed to get in his way constantly.

he felt bad for you, he knew you had no choice in this. You couldn’t control if you were to be married off or not. Neither did he. He bit back his pride, knocking on your bedroom door loud enough to wake you up.

The sound of fur sheets rustling filled his ears, followed by your soft voice. "Come in…"

Katsuki opened the door and saw you in your nightgown, snuggled up in bed. "It’s me," he grumbled in a low voice.

"Oh… Baku—"

"Call me Katsuki," he interrupted, his response shocking you.

"Okay… Katsuki."

The blonde sat by your sleepy form awkwardly. "Sorry about today… I shouldn’t have gone off at you. I won't hack off your head, dumbass," he apologized, a rare occurrence.

You blinked in surprise. "Holy shit, did pigs learn to fly?"

Bakugo scoffed. "No, I'm apologizing."

"So… yes, they have. Okay… I accept your apology," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Bakugo breaths a sigh of relief “you better” he grumbled out “I am! I’ve accepted the apology!” You sat up, staring up at him. Bakugo looked over you, checking you out for a second. A slight blush going over his cheeks but you would never see that in the darkness. You cleared your throat “so… Uhm… when’s the wedding?” You asked to try and strike up a conversation. “When was your gown fitted?” Katsuki asked “2 weeks ago..?” “Then in two weeks.” He replied calmly

“your voice is pretty when your calm..”

“hah?!”

“your voice, your always so loud and gruff…it’s pretty when your calm.” You compliment him

“Oh shut up.“

you giggle “you should get some rest, it’s late.

“early.”

“huh?”

katsuki looked at you “it’s early, it’s 1 am.” His face seemed almost like he was mocking you. “Right… yeah… early…”

katsuki stood from your bed “g’ night..” he makes his way to the door and walks out, closing the large wooden door behind him.

that visit of his was strange and oddly comforting, a late night apology from katsuki? What did kirishima do to make him do that?! You laid back down onto the mattress of your bed, staring up at your roof.

The way he walked in shirtless, he was so handsome you’ll give him that.

sleepily your eyes fluttered to a close and you soon drifted off, having a much opposite dream from katsukis.

your dream

your face was pressed into the pillows by a big hand, the feeling of hips slapping against yours being the second thing you feel.

the first thing would be the monster sized cock sliding in and out of your pussy.

katsuki grabbed your hips and pushed you down on his cock harder

“cmon you can handle… hah… it. How else am I supposed to get that heir huh? I need to.. fuck! Fill you up with a baby first to get a baby…just a little longer…” he grumbles into your neck, biting down onto skin before you feel a hot sticky fluid rush into your womb. Doing just as he said he would do to you.

hopefully one day 🙏

a/n I WONDER WHAT “the plan” ISSSSS. it is shorter but it builds up to what’s gonna happen trust the process🙏

tag list:

@literallyjusta-reader. @augustraine @audreykins45 @i-simp-for-mha-men @applepi25 @gabby-ha @@luv444lay @sillyemanusz @thecutienadq @chimeily @thephantomkid6-66 @mutsu422 @alligator-person @nottherealslimshady @therealsatorugojo

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princesayumi4k · 3 months ago

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CONTENT: POV STORIES WITH TOMURA SHIGARAKI!

TW: Sexual content, cursing, kinks, etc. ANY GENDER MAY READ AHEAD! (..◜ᴗ◝..) ཻུ۪۪♡.

"Listen to me, I don't give a fuck how you feel. I want you. Now." He says, grabbing and pinning you to a wall nearby, his boner getting harder as his gaze fixated on you.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Fuck me. I missed you so bad." He whined, dry humping you through your clothes as he mumbled against your neck.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"C'mere." He did the one finger gesture, then patting his lap.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Let me..." He moaned against your lips, kissing you but also taking off your top.

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"That feels good...right there." He whimpers in a quiet tone as you kiss his body full of raw skin and scratches.

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"Are you proud...of me?" He mumbled against you, "I'm a good boy?"

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"That's it...mhm...cum on my fingers..." He whispered somewhat soothingly as he touched you hard.

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emotionalmessss · 2 years ago

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Diabolical Dealings

A/N: first time writing Shigaraki, I tried my best. I probably neglected Dabi a little too much and made Shigaraki absolutely disgusting. This was wayyy longer than I intended. No beta read, non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: reader is a police officer and stumbles into something she shouldn't have. Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: where do I even start lol. Heavy non-con, humiliation, implied murder, kinda violence/blood, shigaraki is gross (sorry), implied kidnapping, yandere (kinda?), spit, forced orgasm, oral, threesome. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 10.2K

A gust of wind whistled across your face, making your eyes flutter shut as dirt and stray newspapers skidded along the sidewalk. Despite the frigid air that enveloped your body within seconds - you were boiling hot. Your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, dripping over your furrowed brow and down to the pavement. It was shortly after twelve in the morning and you had just begun your nightly rounds of your assigned area. It was cold and dark. Your path is barely illuminated by the flickering street lights and LED store signs. It was only enough to see a couple yards in front of you, everything else hidden by the eerie shadows of darkness.

There were hundreds of other things you’d rather be doing right now; staying home with a microwavable meal on your lap while you watched your favorite show was one of them. Being called in and roaming the streets was last on your list of things to do on a Friday night.

Your phone rang an hour ago while you were occupying your time being curled up on the couch, with a hot bowl of curry beside you. You had just begun to settle down, only to get interrupted.

You knew you had to answer when you saw the Chief’s caller ID reflect onto your gloomy face.

Begrudgingly, you answered. His voice was stressed when he asked if you could come in for the night, explaining that there had been a few more attacks than usual tonight, and that the Heroes needed the extra hands to apprehend the villains they defeated.

Reluctantly, you agreed. You weren’t a fan of working nights and opted for working days to lessen the hassle of transporting villains back to headquarters, where they would be dealt with before they were shipped off to Tarturus. It was a relatively easy job during the day, but the night only amplified the difficulty. With limited civilians and heroes, you had to be extra cautious.

If it wasn’t your deep admiration and dedication to the job - you would’ve said no. But alas, here you were, fulfilling your duties in the dead of night.

“How are you holding up, (last name)?” A muffled voice filtered through your radio, startling you slightly as you reached to unclip it from your belt.

You backed up towards a brick wall, casting a few glances around before you answered your partner. “I’m fine. Doing one final sweep before I head over to Endeavor and Jeanist.” You radioed back. “Are you alright?”

“Relax, (last name). You’re doing great.” You thought the shake in your voice was hidden by your false sense of confidence, but your partner saw straight through the mask. “I’m catching up with Gum soon. Almost finished my rounds too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You were too tired for this shit. You wanted to meet up with Endeavor and Jeanist, sooner rather than later. They were Pros and had quirks, unlike yourself. Better yet, you just wanted to finish the assignment and retreat back to the safety of your apartment.

“(last name)? Are you there?” He asked, your shaky hands clinging to the small device as your brain kicked back in to register his words.

“Sorry, I’m here.” You swallowed. “That’s good. We’ll meet up later? Maybe grab a coffee after the shift change?” You perked up, knowing how desperate your body was for some liquid fuel right about now.

“You bet your fucking ass we will. Radio me if you need anything. I’ll be around.” He buzzed out, leaving nothing but the sound of static sizzling in the air.

You clipped your radio back to your belt, still resting against the bricks to give your tired feet a chance to recuperate. You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine. Everything is okay. You repeated the reassurances in your mind, forcing yourself to calm down.

You pushed yourself up, brushing out the crinkles that formed in your uniform and started to press on. The sound of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement, your head turning to give quick glances down the alleyways and side streets. Nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, which seemed strange considering the Chief explicitly said tonight was unusually active.

You chalked it up to the increased presence of the heroes, knowing that most small-time villains would avoid these areas because of them. They never lingered in one place for too long. The fear of catching the attention of a Pro and getting apprehended usually deterred them. Granted, it wasn’t out of ordinary for a smaller villain to test their luck and linger about anyways. They usually opted for petty crimes like vandalism and theft, which would make for quick escapes if needed. There was no shortage of those types, unfortunately.

Despite this, you noticed there wasn’t much of a disturbance tonight. You certainly weren’t complaining, but the anxiety continued to gnaw in the back of your head. You were specifically on edge since there was so little happening in your area. That could mean one or two things; the heroes scared all of them away, or that there was a bigger threat lurking about.

Villains were similar in their enjoyment of public disturbance, wreaking havoc, and causing panics. But not all Villains were the same. The ones that committed thought-out malicious crimes usually deterred the pettier Villains. There’s always bigger fish in the ocean.

But what would you know? You weren’t an expert, but you had picked up on a few things from your years in the field. Your skilled understanding of villains kept you alive, but you weren’t going to gamble with it.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You repeated, changing the subject in your mind to something a little more pragmatic. You weren’t about to ruin your streak of luck with your panicked thoughts. You continued on, looking forward to the coffee stop you promised your partner. You hoped that when you met up with Endeavor and Jeanist, that they’d just send you off home, but those chances were slim.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You hummed to yourself as you rounded a corner, poking your head out to give a quick check.

“I’m not wasting my time on these pieces of trash. They make for better kindling than recruits.” You heard a deep voice rasp from afar. The sound came from afar and echoed off the tall brick walls, which made it even more difficult to distinguish.

A civilian? You thought, furrowing your brows. Maybe? But why would they be wandering in an alley at this time of night? They didn’t sound too friendly either. You gripped onto the edge of the wall, tilting your head in the direction of the barely audible voice.

“Can’t be surprised, this world is rotting from the inside and it makes me sick.” The second voice was higher pitched and much more strained than the first.

Your subconscious must have realized that they were a threat before your mind could, because you felt a tingle run down your spine and goosebumps crawl up your neck. Definitely not friendly.

You could hear the first man scoff and what sounded like footsteps, but nothing else. It appeared that they were retreating deeper into the alley to continue their conversation. You weren’t too keen on the idea of finding out where they were going - or what they were doing. Deciding that it was better to not push your luck, you backed away from the entrance and reached for your radio.

You weren’t a detective, and you weren’t about to start acting like one just because you were curious. You needed to radio your partner and inform him immediately on what you stumbled upon, even if you weren’t sure what you found. They could just be some lowly villains, but you had a protocol to follow.

Moving further away from the opening and deeming yourself to be at a safe distance, you pulled out your radio.

“Sam?” You whispered, bringing the device up with shaky fingers. “Are you there?”

There was a hiss of static in response and you slapped your palm over the speaker.

“Sam?” You asked again, your voice sounding a little more desperate as you waited for a response. It couldn’t be helped, but you were beginning to feel a little anxious. It wasn’t like him to leave you hanging like this, especially for a night like this. He made it a habit to always pick up when you called.

There was an off chance that he was caught up in dealing with something, but you wanted nothing more than to hear him say anything. You rested your forehead on the tips of your fingers, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind wanted to be rational with the thoughts, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of worry at his silence.

Swallowing hard, you decided this was something you were going to have to deal with later. It would be better off to ignore the rest of your sweep and just meet back up later. “If you can hear this, I’m making my way back over to everyone. There w-”

A sudden burst of blue flame erupted from the alley beside you, catching you off guard and forcing a scream out of your throat. Your radio slipped from your fingers and crashed onto the pavement, cracking from the blow. You narrowly dodged the attack - your legs reacting before your mind could even fully process the situation.You hit the ground hard but corrected yourself by rolling onto your knees and into a crouching stance. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as it started to pump faster at the wall of fire next to you. If you were a few seconds slower, then your entire side would have been fried.

The muscles in your chest grew tight with each breath, forcing you into a state of hyperventilation. Move. Now! Your nerves ignited with a fury of terror and forced you out of your frozen state. You scrambled to your feet in less than a second and bolted down the sidewalk without a second thought. Heroes. Get to the heroes. You no longer cared about how loud your footsteps were, since whoever attacked you knew exactly where you had been. You were positive that if they wanted to kill you, they would’ve. They wanted you to run, and you were going to do just that.

If it weren’t for the fear, you surely would have collapsed. You never ran faster in your life till now and you didn’t stop, even when your lungs started to burn and ache. You had to keep going. That fire quirk was a long ranged attack, which was bad as is. You didn’t want to waste time dwelling on catching your breath.

The muscles in your legs strained as you bolted down the sidewalk, pumping them as fast as they would allow. Your breathing was uneven, borderline hyperventilating due to your climbing fear. The adrenaline was enough to keep you going, passing by several side streets and alleys as you tried to put some distance between yourself and your assailant.

You wiped your eyes, which were stinging with sweat and momentarily blinding you.

“Where ya’ going in such a rush, doll?” The voice sounded bored, uninterested really.

You skidded to a stop, feet sliding against the pavement in attempts to slow yourself. Your gaze moved up to follow where the sound was coming from, noticing a man resting lazily against an alleyway entrance. Your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a surprised puff of air. You were not expecting the man to catch up to you so quickly, let alone be in front of you. This certainly took you by surprise and you felt yourself take a precautionary step backwards.

He held out a singular finger with a blue flame hovering at the tip of it, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the subtle glow. You could barely make out his features, only a hint of light being emitted from his index. You did, however, notice the textured skin that was stapled together with the living skin. It couldn’t be. You thought as another wave of panic rushed over you.

He must have noticed your realization because you saw him smirk wildly before extinguishing the flame in his fist.

Engulfed in darkness, you turned and sprinted away. Your body once again acted on impulse as you ducked into the alley beside you. No. You weren’t going to die. You thought. This wasn’t going to be your end. You promised your partner that you would have coffee together. You promised to visit your parents more. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going to die .

With as much speed as your body could handle, you ran deeper into the dark unknown. You knew that you had to get back to the Pros, but whether or not you’d be able to was inconclusive. Your main focus was escaping, but it seemed easier said than done. Nonetheless, you carried on, jumping over stray bags of garbage and debris.

The sound of your thumping footsteps were loud, but your heart hammering against your rib cage was even louder. The organ pumped viciously to fuel your aching limbs with blood, even reaching up to thud in your ear canal. It was only when your eyes landed on a second shadow emerging from the darkness that you spun back around. No. This wasn’t happening. Your feet slid out from under you at the sudden movement, but you quickly corrected yourself, spinning on your heels and darting back towards the mouth of the alley. You ran blindly, in hopes of getting away from both assailants.

You glanced back, noting the shadow stalking after you. No. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking his time chasing you. His pace was slow and intimidating, purposely drawing out every ounce of fear that he could produce from you. It was only then when you realized your mistake. Your attention returned to the freedom which was illuminated by the flickering street lights. You were just shy of reaching it, maybe a few meters or so. You can do this. The dim light faded as a large figure stepped in front of it, blocking the exit and causing you to gasp. Fuck! Your body was moving fast - too fast for you to stop yourself in time.

The man made no sound as you collided head on with his body, dull pain shot up your chest, making you yell out in surprise. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, fear fuelling your body into clawing and fighting back. His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer, holding you still against him. His other hand grabbed a hold of your flailing wrist, keeping it planted against his chest in some sort of stance that could only be compared to two lovers embracing.

“Let go of me!” You whined, only to feel his grip tighten.

You looked up at him with widened eyes, finally getting a good view of him. You really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes scanned over his face, noting all the scar tissue he had beneath his eyes and along his jawline. The damaged skin was stapled together with the healthy parts, creating some sort of ugly patchwork job. It was also the first time you had been this close to him, and you never realized just how warm he actually was. He heated your skin up like a furnace, warmth seeping out of his clothes and into yours.

Dabi. You heard about him, or rather, read. His pictures were plastered all over the newspapers in Japan.

One side of his lips curled upwards as he looked down his nose at you. You couldn’t tell if he was smirking or snarling at you, but you didn’t really care. You began writhing in his grasp. You kicked at his shins and punched his chest with your free hand, attempting to twist out of his hold.

He didn’t even flinch at your attacks, his only reaction was to laugh at you. His chest rumbled as he kept you pinned, sending a wave of nausea up to your throat. Your face twisted up in anguish, gasping as you placed a hand onto his chest to shove him off. He was hot. So hot .

“Let go of me!” You repeated again.

Seeing how your punches weren’t doing much - you opted for crying out and raking your nails down his chest, catching and pulling on his staples. This time, he let out a low hiss and let go of your waist, moving to grab your other wrist to stop your assault.

“Aren’t you a little treat.” He rasped. His eyes narrowed down to yours, turquoise orbs watching as you tried to take a step back, so you were no longer touching him. He didn’t seem to care for your distaste, knowing that there wasn’t anything for you to do.

You gave him a frightened look, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. You had seen him in the newspapers before, but he was even more terrifying up close. His staples reflected in the moonlight, and his eyes were practically glowing. While he was looking at you with a lazy expression - you could see hints of something you couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Boredom? There wasn’t much time for you to contemplate your next moves, because he was already spinning you around. His chest pressed into your back, while your arms were twisted across your torso, effectively pinning you.

It took you a couple seconds to stabilize yourself, blinking rapidly as you tried to adjust your swaying vision. The fear crawled up your esophagus, threatening to drown you as you became overwhelmed with terror. Calm. Calm. You repeated in your head. Slipping into a panic attack would do little good in your situation, but managing your nervous system was always a challenging task.

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Dabi’s words provided you no comfort - instead, adding fuel to your hysterics.

Your attention snapped back to the end of the alley when you heard a second set of footsteps approaching. Dabi and your fear kept you facing forward as the second figure sauntered towards you. Pale blue shaggy hair was the first thing you noticed, along with the vibrant red shoes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness. You couldn’t really see his eyes, which were blocked by his mop of hair, but you knew that he was staring right at you. His steps reverberated around you - each syllable striking more fear in your heart. It felt like you were counting down the moments to your demise, unable to stop the shiver rolling down your spine. Instinctively, you inched backwards, a pitiful attempt of escape that only drew you closer into Dabi. Your back pressed into his chest, so close that you could feel every grove and staple on him.

The man in front continued honing in on the two of you with precision and intent. Granted, you would have fought sooner if you weren’t so trapped in a daze. However, as the figure became clearer in your line of sight - your eyes settled upon his arms, which were covered by hands that were severed at the wrist. Shigaraki. Reality came crashing down on your head like a ton of bricks. Your nerves coming back with a vengeance - lighting up with such a ferocious drive that you bucked back into Dabi.

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mouse.” Shigaraki snickered. He halted his movements, hands placed inside his pockets as he studied you. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, as if he were trying to gauge whether or not you were truly a threat. With your cowering expression and quivering form - it was obvious that you weren’t. You were a poor little cop, just trying to get through a shift, and had the back luck of stumbling into something you shouldn’t have. Stupid girl.

You knew the full extent of how much danger you were in right now, the terror creeping into your bloodstream and controlling every aspect of your being. No matter how many hours of briefing and training you had received, you couldn’t ever be prepared enough to handle this. Part of you prayed that your partner - no, the Heroes - would come to your rescue. You knew this wasn’t a situation you could handle on your own, it never was to begin with.

Beneath the mess of hair, his red eyes were almost glowing as looked down at you, mixing with both disinterest and disgust.You inched back slightly, as if the few centimeters would actually protect you from whatever they were going to do. It was a weak attempt that only drew you closer to Dabi - who merely glanced down his nose at you.

Dabi could practically feel the terror radiate off you as he held you, knowing fully that you were thinking of every possible outcome. He noticed you had been shaking before, but with Shigaraki closing the distance on you, your body was almost vibrating as you pushed yourself flush against him. It was entertaining in a sense - you were so scared of Shigaraki that you resorted to gluing onto him for refuge.

“I don’t think she likes you very much. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Dabi bent down closer to you as he spoke, but his words were not intended for you, instead they were directed at Shigaraki.

“Are you scared of Shigaraki, doll?” You can feel his nose prod into the side of your head as he continues to taunt you.

Your body stiffens but you don’t give him a response. You were absolutely horrified. But you feared that displaying any more emotion would further instigate the situation. You could only pray that they just wanted to freak you out a bit, and then hopefully let you go. However, the instincts in your gut and the way they were both looking at you told you otherwise.

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? ” Shigaraki caught your attention as he scratched his neck, eyes boring down onto yours. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to stare back, watching as his blunt nails raked down the dry skin of his neck. “She brought this on herself by meddling in things that don’t concern her.” He looked up to Dabi for a brief second, silently communicating something you couldn’t understand till the last moment.

Oh, no. You repressed a shudder as Shigaraki looked back down at you, the scar on his lips twitching as he smirked.

Before you could respond - or even blink for that matter, Dabi released your arms and shoved you towards his leader. Your arms shot out in attempts to brace yourself as your feet tripped up beneath you, unable to keep pace with the sudden force. A tiny gasp slipped past your lips as you fell forward and into Shigaraki. This is it . You thought. Your eyes slammed shut as you awaited for the embrace of death, expecting to be turned to dust as soon as he touched you.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you found his arms encircled around your waist, pinkies raised to prevent the accidental use of his quirk. You let out a puff of air as your cheek sandwiched against his chest, instantly engulfed with the odor of musk. With your arms completely immobilized between his body and yours - you couldn’t pry yourself away.

“Please. Let me go. I d-didn’t hear or see anything.” You sucked in a shaky breath as you began to plead for mercy. Inadvertently, you sniffed the material that you were pressed against, letting out a strangled cough at the rancid smell that belonged to Shigaraki. Your face scrunched up with such distaste and anguish that even Dabi noticed.

“She really doesn’t like you, eh? Just look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke.” Dabi chuckled at your expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

You peered back at the flame Villain, almost as if you were trying to beg him to help. Silently, you tried to bargain for your life, casting a teary-eyed glance to Dabi. You knew this was futile, but you were willing to do just about anything to get away from Shigaraki and his destructive hands. Dabi barely gave you a second look, but knew instantly what you were trying to do. He kept his face impassive as he ignored your non-verbal pleas. There was no way he was going to help you in any way.

You whimpered, turning away when you realized there would be no sympathy from him. Obviously. Instead, you managed to press your palms flat and hard into Shigaraki’s stomach, pushing lightly in hopes of creating some much needed distance between your body and his.

“Is that right?” Shigaraki hummed and jerked you closer to him, seeing your fight as merely an annoyance rather than a threat. Your elbows buckled and you crashed into his body again. “The pretty little cop wants to get away from the disgusting villain?” He gritted as he felt the side of his neck prickle with an itch, the anger beginning to surface at your obvious revulsion of him.

He’d gotten used to the disgusted and false pity stares that society condemned him to - but there was something about your pretentious attitude that irked and made him itch incessantly. The pitiful look on your face reminded him a little too much of how corrupt this world was and how much he wanted to destroy it all. It was clear to him that you absentmindedly aligned yourself with the same views of the Heroes - like a little puppy, blindly following orders from its master. Shigaraki’s thoughts were cruel as he conjured up ways to make you squeal like the pig you were.

With a sadistic grin, his fingers reach towards your chin, gripping it between his thumb and index before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You noticed he had rings of dry skin around his red eyes and lips, which were peeling, cracked, and had a scar straight across. It had to be a side effect of his quirk - something his body used as a coping mechanism. The sight of him brought you no comfort as you tried to wiggle out of his hold again, pushing at his torso with your palms when he lowered his head to your ear.

“Careful now. You wouldn’t want all my fingers to accidentally touch you with all that squirming, now would you?” He drummed his fingers against your waist, timing it perfectly so that all five of his pale fingers wouldn’t come into contact with you. “It’s not a nice way to go, officer. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Your blood ran cold as you stilled yourself, paralyzed by his words and the feeling of his fingers thudding carefully against you. With one simple change in rhythm, you’d be dead. The thought of your life dangling in the arms of a murdering psychopath didn’t do any good for your state of mind. And neither did the sudden feeling of his lips pressing into your hair, which had come undone from its usual ponytail - thick locks tumbling out to frame your pretty face.

“Oh, god. Please, just let me go.” You whispered, wide-eyed and begging.

Shigaraki snickered at your frozen form and took his opportunity in making you feel uncomfortable. His nose poked against the side of your head as he took a deep breath in, shuddering at both the scent of your lingering shower products and your soft mewl of desperation.

“I radioed my partner and he knows where I am. He’ll be here any minute now with backup. Please, let me go and no one has to get hurt.” You found yourself using a new tactic, one you hoped would buy you your freedom.

Shigaraki snorted, blowing a puff of air into your hair. “Radio?”

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same one I saw a few blocks back would it, doll?” Dabi spoke up suddenly. “The shattered one?” He teased with a knowing smile.

Your body stiffened in Shigaraki’s arms and you swallowed. “Yes, that’s the one. It's a protocol for all of us to be in constant communication about our whereabouts. He knows exactly where I am.” You lied smoothly, keeping your face as neutral as you could.

“I don’t think your partner, or anyone for that matter, will be coming for ya’.” Dabi pressed on, leaning lazily against the bricks as he eyed you.

“You’re wrong. Sam will be-” You made the unfortunate mistake of saying his name, too wound up to stop yourself in time.

Shigaraki started laughing suddenly, pulling his face away from you as he let out an unhinged cackle. Confusion washed over your features and you paused, unnerved by the high pitched sound from above you.

“Saving you? Is that what you think?” Shigaraki’s voice was lowering in pitch as he calmed himself from his laughter. “You poor thing.” He mocked. “He couldn’t even save himself. It’s pathetic if you ask me!”

Within seconds, your demeanor had morphed into complete and utter hysterics upon hearing those words. You shook your head violently, fat tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you tried to come to grips with reality.

“What? No. You’re lying. That can’t be…” You whispered as your head began to swirl with apprehension.

“Did you wanna know how Sam cried and begged for his life before I decayed him? Choking and clawing at his own throat.” Shigaraki continued, his lips pulling into a manic smile as he watched the tears roll down your cheeks.

“You’d think someone sworn to protect and serve the public would put up more of a fight, but no!” He took the chance to mock your employment motto with glee, shuddering at your look of despair.

“Geez, you really are an ass.” Dabi mumbled with a roll of his eyes. Whether or not Dabi thought Shigaraki was pushing you too far was irrelevant, because in his own twisted sense - he was enjoying it.

Shigaraki was too occupied by your suffering to pay Dabi any mind.

“You’re fucking insane! He was a good-”

“Good or bad, you and heroes still thrive on violence, just like us. Only difference being that the Heroes are filled with empty ideologies and a false sense of justice that make them foolishly believe that they’re society’s guardians. it's disgusting .” His voice ascended in pitch as he spit the words out like they were poison.

You had been staring blindly at your feet as Shigaraki tormented you with his words. Despite your unmoving stance, your vision swam and clouded with tears. You could barely keep yourself upright as you tried to clear your head. It felt like you were drowning. The muscles in your throat tightened with each swallow. Gone, your partner was gone. Every fiber in your body wanted you to run, scream, and cry, but you remained still and unmoving.

Oddly enough, the sadness in your body began to shift into something more akin to rage. It felt like the switch inside your brain had flipped and you were overwhelmed with cool, shivering hatred. It was all too much. Shigaraki’s hands are still grasping onto you and Dabi’s cool eyes are studying you, but you feel a drift from your body, as if you were just an onlooker.

Murderers. They were murderers.

For the first time in your life, you felt your resolve crumble. You wanted them dead. You wanted them to suffer. They didn’t deserve to be walking and breathing, when your partner was a pile of dust in one of these alleys. He didn’t deserve to die, but they did .

“All quiet now aren’t-”

“What would a villain know about justice? You murdered an innocent man!” You spat, craning your neck to glare right at him. Shigaraki glanced back down at you, not expecting you to speak. “Destruction follows everywhere you go; killing, stealing, and thriving on fear you cause. And you’re delusional enough to think we’re disgusting?” You hissed up at him with so much anger that your body shook. “We protect-”

You screeched when a hand weaved through your hair, suddenly jolting your head back to an unnatural angle. Your neck strained in this position, feeling as if the bones would snap if you didn’t follow his movements. Your pupils blew wide as Shigaraki leered over you and seethed with anger, his extended pinky shaking as he looked to be fighting the urge to dust you. His jaw was clenched as his wild eyes locked onto you. Still angry, you repressed the urge to spit in his face.

“It seems like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. You better tread carefully bitch, I’ve killed people for less.” He sneered as his grip tightened to make his point. “You’re stuck living in a fairy tale, unable to see the corruption and rot that your system has caused.” Droplets of spit hit your face as he spoke, rutting his hips against your own to gain back the upperhand in this situation. He wasn’t about to let some idiotic brat like you outsmart him. No. He was the one in charge here. He had all the power. And he was going to make sure you knew it.

Dabi sighed, wanting to speak up before Shigaraki lost complete control and decided to dust you. “The Heroes will fall from their pedestals, even if we have to knock them down one by one.”

You kept your eyes locked with Shigaraki, challenging him silently. You were certainly playing with fire right now, but your mouth was operating on its own accord, not even the lingering threat of turning to dust able to stop the words from coming out.

“The only ones who will fall are y-”

Your voice cut short as Shigaraki sloppily collided his mouth with yours. The awkward action took you by surprise and you gasped against him. Instantly, you were swarmed with his stale breath and cracked lips, planting your fists onto his chest to push him away. He groaned into you and you could tell he was unskilled by the way he messily moved his lips and prodded you with his tongue. The kiss was wet and warm, liquid building up in your tear ducts as you squirmed violently. You had emotional whiplash at the situation, as you were positive he was itching to kill you just a few moments ago, and now he was slobbering all over your mouth.

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard . The skin broke beneath the pressure, your mouth immediately filling up with the bitter taste of his blood as it pooled onto your tongue.

Shigaraki released your hair with a feral growl. It was his turn to be surprised at your brazen behavior, stepping back slightly as his fingers touched his chin before examining the liquid dribbling down his chin.

You glared back at him and against your better nature, you spat the remaining blood in your mouth, hitting the pavement near his feet. “You’re nothing but a petulant little child - crying and whining when you don’t get your way. It’s pathetic.” You hissed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

Shigaraki looked at you through rage filled eyes. He should have expected this reaction from you, but figured that you were more bark than actual bite. His chest rising and falling at a pace that indicated he was ready to kill. He could feel every nerve in his body buzzing with adrenaline and anger, aching to pounce and watch your body crumble to dust. Oh, he was going to make you regret that.

“You’re in trouble now, little bitch. I’ll bring you to heel like I should’ve done from the start.” His lips pulled back into a snarl as he stepped forward.

You could see the malicious glee radiate from his darkened gaze, forcing you to take a step back to avoid it. He could’ve caught you in a mere second, but he found pleasure in your look of anger quickly turning into fear as he matched your retreating steps. Shigaraki could practically feel the anxiety coming off your body in waves, sending a sickening shudder down his back. He didn’t usually find pleasure in anything besides destruction and death, but there was something about you that made him want to savor this - despite your bratty demeanor and fake brave facade.

He giggled - high pitched and threatening as he advanced on your trembling form. He never found close contact to particularly be one of his favorites, but he’d make an exception just for you. Shigaraki knew there was no escape for you, which was emphasized by Dabi creeping forwards.

“Get away from me, freak!” You shrieked out of surprise, too focused on Shigaraki closing in on you to notice that Dabi had settled behind you again.

He wasn’t going to let crusty have all the fun, that just wouldn’t do.

“Ah, ah ah. You aren’t thinking of running again are you, doll?” Dabi rasped and you instinctively spun around to face him, meeting his crooked smirk with a grimace of your own.

Dabi stepped forward suddenly, and you stumbled back, brain swimming before you realized Shigaraki was directly behind you now. He took this opportunity to catch you by the collar of your uniform, all five fingers coming into contact with the soft fabric. The material instantly began to unravel and disintegrate into thin air, leaving you in nothing but your bra and a thin layer of dust.

“What are you doing!” You cried out, backing away into the wall between them. Your hands covered your chest in attempts to protect your modesty. Your breathing only escalated at this point, your bare chest doing little to hide the rise and fall of your panicked state.

Both men scan over you, but it's the feral look in Shagaraki’s eyes that scare you the most. You back against the wall, leaning away as he takes slow paces towards you. He hated you, you knew that, but there was a lingering appearance of longing hidden deep within his crimson eyes. It was terrifying when he was angry, since it was so clearly displayed, but this was something completely different. This lustful expression was chilling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Shigaraki continued until he was only a few inches in front of you, his ebony fingers reaching out to touch your face. His gaze followed the swell of your breasts for a moment, before settling back up to your face. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when you watched Shigaraki’s tongue wet his dry lips. He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand this action, and you started to feel light headed. Your hand balled up into a white-knuckled fist, pulling back slowly to hit his smug face.

Dabi must have had an idea of what you were about to do, because he launched forward and caught your wrist, ending your attempt prematurely with a click of his tongue.

“As much as I would’ve loved to see that, I don’t think it would be wise, doll.” Dabi wrenched your arm back down to your side and placed himself behind you - standing guard with his hands on your shoulders, in case you decided to try it again.

Sandwiched between the two villains, Shigaraki grinned as he moved to run his hands along your waist, his pinkies rising just above your shivering skin. “If you don’t drop that attitude, I’ll have to force it out of you, sweetheart.” You much preferred when he called you a bitch, or anything besides that sick term of endearment.

You held yourself straight, begrudgingly allowing his fingers to trace small patterns. You focused on keeping your face straight and looking directly past him as if he weren’t even there. Shigaraki noticed this and became slightly annoyed at your ignorance. This just wouldn’t do. His palm rested flat against the material of your bra, dusting it just like he had done with your shirt.

A soft sound rumbled in your throat and your eye twitched, but otherwise you said nothing. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You chanted to yourself, repeating the reassuring words to ground yourself.

Dabi laughed. “Stubborn little thing isn’t she?” He settled his chin in the crook of your neck, causing you to try and shift away, which succeeded in little as Dabi wrapped his hand around your throat. “It looks like we’re gonna have to show ya’ some manners, doll.”

“She’ll learn.” Shigaraki tipped your jaw up with a single finger, watching you through his lashes.

“Don’t touch me.” Shigaraki crouched down, his face level with your stomach. He paid no attention to you as he pressed his tongue flat against your stomach, feeling you shrink back and let out a sharp exhale.

Wet, hot trails of saliva littered up your torso as he dragged the muscle all over your skin. You did your best to remain still at his assault - commanding your body to adhere to your orders had never been such a struggle till now. You had been managing fine, until you felt his tongue prod closer to the top lining of your jeans. The appendage was too close for your liking, resulting in your hips unconsciously shifting backwards from the searing heat.

Dabi let out a pained groan when your ass came into contact with his erection. The brief contact made him twitch and his hand tighten around your neck. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, noticing that you were biting your lip. With his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs away and settled his lips against the curve of your neck. You had been so focused on Shigaraki that you nearly forgot about him - jumping slightly as he pressed open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck.

While the action was not welcomed, the feeling of his lips against your skin made your head fall back into his shoulder. Satisfied with your reaction, Dabi let out a breathless laugh. You could feel the moisture of his breath on your neck, making your eyes flutter shut.

Shigaraki peaked up at you, grinning devilishly as he moved to grab your breasts. His thumbs ran over your peaked nipples before he latched his mouth onto one of them. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, causing you to push your chest closer to him. Shigaraki hummed to himself, hollowing out his cheeks to leave dark bruises. He couldn’t hold back the saliva that pooled in his mouth and instead, he let it collect all over your skin. He’d make sure you’d regret calling him disgusting.

“Stop that!” You snapped your head downwards to glare at Shigaraki - narrowly missing Dabi’s head in the process.

Shigaraki pulled away with a giggle, a line of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. “And what makes you so confident to tell me what to do?” He stood to his full height now, towering over you and causing you to bump back into Dabi. “The pretty little cop, all alone with the ugly villains, thinking she can give demands.” Five fingers skimmed across your pants, making them crumble to another pile of dust at your feet.

Your eyes met with Shigaraki, who let out another snort of a laugh. “Don’t move now, I’d hate to ruin the fun by accidentally killing you.” He teased, his fingers looping under the band of your panties as he pulled them down your legs.

His fingers skimmed down your thighs to prove his point, and he began to kiss and lick at your skin, noticing that you were trembling now. With your panties out of the way, he brought them up to his nose and sniffed at the center, his eyes shutting at your tangy odor. You almost keeled over at the sight below you, but Dabi kept you upright with a sharp tug.

“You’re not keeping those are you, creep?” Dabi asked, his lips curling back at Shigaraki’s actions.

“Shut up and hold her still, crispy.” He shot back, tucking the last piece of clothing you wore into his pocket with an annoyed growl.

Dabi rolled his eyes and reached around to grab onto your waist, steadying you as Shigaraki lifted your leg up. You swayed slightly and took hold of Dabi’s forearm, your nails digging into his coat as you tried to balance yourself.

“I got ya’, relax.” He spoke, annoyance riddled in his voice.

Shigaraki moved his attention to your cunt, which you tried to hide by shuffling your foot inwards. He didn’t mind nor care for your refusal, noting that he would deal with it later. He was too consumed with lust and excitement, drool beginning to pool on his tongue at the sight of your mound.

“You sick fuck. You’re not act-” Shigaraki gave you no time to protest as he dove mouth first into your cunt. He latched onto you, his tongue awkwardly poked around at your folds, almost like he didn’t quite know what he was doing. Nonetheless, the sudden intrusion caught you by surprise, causing you to snap your jaw shut.

You could feel his lips curve upwards, the taste of you sending a spike of blood to the tip of his cock. His mouth moved messily against you, sucking in attempts to get more of that sweetness he craved. It was pure bliss. He never imagined you’d taste this good.

His tongue swept up to your clit, which caused you to flinch. He repeated the motion again, this time circling harder over it. You keened into his mouth, involuntarily letting out a small moan at the feeling. Shigaraki snickered against you, focusing his assault on that same spot which made you flutter and gasp. He propped your leg further up, gaining better access to the gathering heat of your pussy.

“Oh, god. S-stop-” You blubbered, arching back.

The sound of your whimpers and soaking heat made him growl, he wanted nothing more than to replay those pretty sounds over and over. His face pressed harder into you, quickly learning where to focus his tongue to make you cry out and gush over his mouth. Your lips parted into an ‘O’ as your hips unconsciously bucked into his face, taking Shigaraki by surprise at your sudden eagerness.

His tongue lapped over your clit a few more times before he buried it into your hole, tasting and sucking the slick that dribbled out. This time, you moaned louder. Shigaraki sucked and lapped at you, drawing out noises that you’d never thought would come out of you. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the skin of your cheeks flushed with a bright blush, stinging beneath your eyes as you soaked his face.

“That’s it, doll. Let it all out.” Dabi began kneading the flesh of your breast as he cooed softly in your ear. His own erection was straining against the front of his pants, poking you in your rear each time you moved.

Shigaraki placed two bony fingers at your entrance before shoving them in hard and fast. His knuckles slammed into you as he fully sheathed himself inside, drawing out a sharp cry. You were not prepared for this and you felt yourself clamp down hard. He continued to slurp at your clit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers barely fitting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching his fingers shine bright with your slick.

“You’re pretty soaked for someone who doesn’t want this.” He examined his scissoring fingers, slick connecting his pale digits together before he licked them clean. “You like my ugly face buried in your sweet cunt, don’t you?” Shigaraki placed a chaste kiss on your thigh.

“How’s that ego doing now?” Dabi teased, pinching hard at your nipples. “You’re gushing all over that creep.”

You gritted your teeth together in humiliation. You didn’t know if it was Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s taunting that sent you over the edge. Either way, it was Dabi who was going to suffer. You snapped your head back to connect with Dabi’s chin, eliciting a sickening crack at the sudden contact. He didn’t expect you to pull such a stunt, especially now of all times. He let out a deep snarl of anger that vibrated against your back, before releasing his hold on you.

“How’s your face?” You hissed back, struggling to keep yourself steady. The rattling in your skull didn’t help your now wavering balance, as you were still standing on one leg.

Even with your pussy hovering only a few inches in front of his leader - you were still acting like a brat. Dabi glanced at Shigaraki, who was watching you closely before nodding towards Dabi.

“Down, bitch.” Dabi growled.

Simultaneously, Dabi kicked the back of your knee with his booted foot and Shigaraki let go of your leg. Your knee immediately buckled and you let out a cry of surprise as you lost your balance. Your hands shot out in attempts to stop yourself from falling, but you were too late. You collapsed to the floor, landing hard on your knees before Dabi kicked you into Shigaraki’s lap.

Once again, he caught you, glancing down at you with a smile as you tried to peel yourself off his body.

“It’s game over now, brat.” You continued to struggle in his hold, your palms lifting up to push at his shoulders, but Shigaraki was quick to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and tilting his head to give you one last look before forcing your face to his groin.

Despite his lanky appearance, he was quite strong and easily managed to subdue you. Your eyes squeezed shut as Shigaraki let out a low groan, reveling in your helplessness and the feeling of your nose pressing against his clothed erection. Your fists dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself up, your arms shaking in exhaustion.

Shigaraki gave you another shove, forcing your head back down. “This is nice, don’t you think?” He rubbed small patterns in your hair, carefully tucking his thumb against his palm.

Your eyes stung with tears of humiliation, your ass perched up perfectly for both his and Dabi’s enjoyment. Inadvertently, you breathed in, once again overwhelmed with his musky smell. You let out a quiet sob, the tears burning as they slid down your cheeks.

“She looks much better from this angle.” You heard Dabi rasp from behind you.

With the little strength you could manage from this angle, you turned your neck to look back at him. His attention was focused on the round of your ass, and you could see him palming the front of his jeans. The lewd action made you sob, which Dabi noticed and made him smirk.

Shigaraki was studying you from above, his crimson eyes soaking in every bit of your reactions as he leaned back on his heels. Oddly enough, the look of disgust on your face managed to turn him on even more . His scarred lips cracked into an unnerving grin and he pulled you up by your hair to meet his gaze.

“I want you to suck it.” He ordered.

Your stomach dropped at his words and you felt the tears finally start to stream down your cheeks. “Please…” He gave you no time to beg, already stripping himself free of his pants and guiding you down.

You find yourself hovering directly above his cock, staring at it with widened eyes. You didn’t know he’d be this big. You swallow hard and tentatively reach out to stroke him, your fingers barely managing to wrap around his girth. He lets out a sharp hiss of air at the feeling of your soft hands and bucks forward. Another choked sob escapes your lips and your tears fall onto his legs as you continue to stroke slowly.

Shigaraki lets out a disgruntled growl and tightens his grip on your hair. “I told you to suck it, idiot.”

Shakily, you stick your tongue out and run it over the tip of his cock. The mix of his sweaty skin and precum leaves a salty taste on your tongue, making you cringe. Your mouth parts more as you try to adjust your jaw for his size, but Shigaraki was impatient. His hips suddenly jut forward and you gag, feeling his entire length force its way into your throat. Your hands slap against his thighs and you begin to breathe through your nose. Shigaraki lets out a low moan at your throat clenching around him.

Tears blur your vision and snot runs down your nose. Shigaraki didn’t care, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your wet mouth sucking him off. You were his toy now, and he was going to do whatever he pleased with you.

Dabi could feel his dick twitch with every whine and strangled gasp you made. The confinements of his jeans were getting a little too tight for his liking, so he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing himself. He trailed two fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you slick gathered on his digits. A squeak traveled up your throat, muffled by Shigaraki’s cock stuffing it full as you felt Dabi’s fingers prod at you.

“You’re drenched, doll. Are you enjoying this? Hm? Getting raped by two Villains at the same time?” Dabi’s fingers pushed past the tight muscle of your pussy, embedding them deep inside you. He curled his digits up and brought them in and out slowly, shuddering at your suffocating walls tightening around him.

Your throat vibrated with a low moan, saliva pouring out the sides of your mouth as you could no longer hold it in due to the girth of Shigaraki’s cock resting against your tongue.

“You’re so fucking tight, but don’t worry, I’ll stretch ya’ out.” His fingers left your sopping hole before you felt something much larger settle against you. Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from both of them.

Shigaraki hissed as your teeth grazed against him, the foreign feeling causing him to jerk forwards and deeper down your throat. You pitifully looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying and gagging.

The distraction allowed for Dabi to plunge into you, fully bottoming out and slamming against your cervix. You immediately screamed, eyes wide and unseeing as your back bowed to the ground.

“Fuck! That’s it.” Dabi had you by your hips, keeping you pinned while he rocked towards you.

Your core burned in anguish, giving you barely any time to adjust to his size as Dabi’s cock dragged up and down your walls, moaning as your pussy greedily sucked him in. You felt like you were going to pass out, both of your holes stuffed beyond their limit and catching you out of breath.

The sight almost made Shigaraki bust his load down your throat, but he managed to suppress it. He wasn’t about to prematurely end this little game just because he couldn’t control himself, so he pulled himself out of your mouth with a wet plop. The tip of his cock throbbed painfully, deepening in color with the amount of blood arousal pumping to the head.

You gasped like a fish, gulping down as much air as your lungs could handle. Oxygen had never tasted quite so sweet until now, considering you were on the verge of passing out. Your hand shakily moved up to wipe your nose and mouth, grimacing when Dabi bottomed out again. Your chest bounced with the swift force, giving Shigaraki a clear view from above.

“What a mess.” He kept his hands on your head, silently warning you not to move.

You struggled to keep pace as Dabi’s movements refused to slow. With your mouth freed, Dabi took the opportunity to make you scream. The enlarged head of his cock slammed back into your cervix, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that had you heeling over Shigaraki’s lap. You clawed at his thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

“Please! It hurts!” You sobbed, but dared not to look back, knowing that you’d only make things worse for yourself.

“Begging now?” Dabi grunts, “It’s not like you can do anything about it- just relax and enjoy it.” He says between breaths, struggling to keep his voice steady. The depth of his strokes make you cry, and you try to crawl away. You don’t get far, Dabi sees to that by dragging you back with a growl.

“I-I can-can’t. Please, stop!” Dabi’s arm moves to cradle your stomach, his other hand dipping down to your cunt, eagerly searching for your clit. This angle only draws him in deeper, but the soft circles that his fingers trace along your clit lessen the pain. His steady rhythm and lingering heat of his fingers make it harder to control the building pressure. You weren’t sure who you hated more, Dabi or Shigaraki. Both of them could rot in hell .

“Does that feel nice?” Shigaraki coos. The knotting in his stomach is calming down, and he's almost ready to watch you choke on his cock again, but your not so subtle attempts to hide your pleasure has him enchanted. The way your eyebrows twitch and mouth open in awe almost make him bust at the sight.

Ever so slightly, he tilts your head up with a gentle tug. Obediently, you open your eyes, briefly noticing his scar twitch as he opens his mouth. A string of spit falls from his lips before you can close your mouth, landing on your tongue while the remnants drip down your chin.

“Swallow it.” His eyes challenged.

“Ngh-” Your eyes fluttered shut, throat clenching as you swallowed it back. Gross.

“Good girl.” Shigaraki was done with his mind games. He lined himself back up, confident that he could last slightly longer.

You granted him access, kissing and licking at him in hopes that he’d cum quick. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside, rubbing up and along the vein that thumped with each stroke. You knew he was getting close, and so were you. Dabi was working quicker on your clit, your body ignoring every cue from your brain to stop. You had no control, and felt the effects of your orgasm wash over you. You tensed, clenching down on Dabi and making him groan, eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“That’s it, doll. You’re- gonna make me-” Dabi hissed, following your orgasm with his own moments later. He’s never come that fast before, and to be honest, he was a little embarrassed.

You moaned, feeling the heat of his cum drench your insides. Hot. It was so hot . He twitched as he filled your pulsating cunt, drawing out a handful of curses from him. You cried out, muffled sounds escaping your mouth. Tears soaked your face as you rode out your high, feeling Dabi pull out of your sopping hole and release you. A mixture of his and your own cum ran down your thighs, causing you to shudder. He stayed behind you, in case you had any bright ideas while he was stuffing himself back into his pants.

Shigaraki laughed, rutting himself against your face, taking you by surprise as your nose collided with his pubic bone. You let out a strangled cough, slamming your hands onto his thighs as you struggled to breathe through your blocked nose.

“I knew you’d be fun -ah- knew it.” Shigaraki pushed your head so far down that you gagged, tears overflowing and blurring your vision.

His hips thrusted forward, releasing a low growl as he spilled himself down the back of your throat. You coughed, quickly swallowing it all back in fear of your body accidentally spitting it back up. It was salty, and felt heavy as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach.

The moment his hand left the back of your head, you threw yourself away and wiped your lips. There was a lingering taste of him invading your tongue, which you knew would take you months to wash away.

Curled up against the wall, you shielded your head in your arms, tucking yourself behind your shivering form. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard their footsteps, instead, you remained still and awaited death.

“It seems like your time wasn’t wasted afterall.” You heard the familiar rasp of Shigaraki. He wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel a tinge of something in your gut at his words.

You felt something crouch beside you, peering over you like a hawk. You tilted your head slightly, glancing up at Dabi as he examined you. “Not the type of recruit I had in mind, but she’ll be useful.” He patted your head, brushing matts of hair away from your eyes. “In other ways.”

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liteyagummy · 3 months ago

Text

𝖰𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖮𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 2

TW: yandere behavior, cnc, r4pe, abductor and captor, (the characters are aged up let’s just act like they stayed in dorms so everyone is around 19-20) NSFW

ignore any typos please and thank you, this is one of the longer ones so sit back and grab a snack ||fem reader nothing specified but gender and quirk

(let me know if you enjoy longer or shorter stories!)

your palms sweat as you’re nervous to walk back inside the classroom after weeks.. no MONTHS of absence.. you were unaware of all the cover ups kirishima had dished out you closed your eyes and sighed walking in the class just having a moment to discuss what Aizawa had just told them for todays lesson

Kiri right behind you, he was never going to let you guys sneak around and hide your relationship.. even before he was very open with his friends about how he felt about you just clearly never told him the plan of KIDNAPPING but.. nonetheless, your friends instantly bolted up to you, Jiro, hagakure, and midorya along with other but you weren’t too close to class A even though you transferred in your friends were mainly in class 1B but 1A was very nice to you still

“hey y/n how was your work study!” midorya said with his notebook out with a pen behind his ear

“yea! did you fight anyone outside of training??” denki chimed in

“did you learn any new moves??” Uraraka asked

“i doubt it’d be anything better than mine.” bakugo said from the side of the class having been shouting at sero about the assignment they’d just gotten.. after you looked at kiri confusedly he smiled brightly his red hair sticking up and his sharp teeth showing “y/n actually JUST got dropped off, im sure she’s tired maybe let’s ask about it later at lunch! as of now what are we doing in class?” he raised a brow as he guides you by your hips to your seat everyone seeing this, the girls giggling and the guys having a slight look of shock to their face you just sat down, even though he was lying through his teeth. he was right you were tired you weren’t used to waking up for school anymore you forsure had to get back into your routine

“we’re meeting up with class 1b, we’re going to be doing training together again.. i’m not sure why? it’s pretty random but” tsuyu said

“then again when isn’t our class assignments random” momo chimed in

“regardless we should start getting prepared we don’t want to be late and give class 1B another reason to dislike our class” ida said

after getting ready you walked next to the girls talking with them catching up as you entered the new training dome the old faces flooding back but one standing out.. who was he? you were never IN class 1b you would just meet them separately when walking around.. you’d thought you met everyone already but clearly not

“y/n!” kendo waved with a smile “where have you been girl” she asked as she put a hand on her hip to talk to you while also watching out for her classmates mouth

“oh i had- a last minute work study.. i um, since i came to the hero course late i needed to get that out of the way” you lied on your toes

she nodded “you’ll have to tell me about it! how cool is it that we get to train together “ she continues the conversation but honestly you were zoning in and out of it.. you were curious about the man you’d never seen before

“who is that” you accidentally cut her off while motioning to this guy

“oh that’s tetsu tetsu” she looked to him and then called him over, your cheeks started to get read as he was running over kirishima took a break from talking to his friends to look and see what you were up to, as he saw tetsutetsu running up to you he stood on guard

Kendo heard her classmate start to get a little too chatty, she excused herself walking straight over to monoma and snatching him up apologizing for him yet again

you were alone with this steel man infront of you.. he spoke starting the conversation off with a smile and trying to get to know you, you entertained it truthfully this made kirishima’s blood boil he tried to keep his composure not wanting to blow up here and now. why did this guy think he could talk to his babe?? you were HIS and HIS only not to be shared or easily acceded, he walked over with a fake smile and butted into your conversation, you looked at kiri then tetsutetsu.. then back again.. then again. why the hell were they so similar? kiri wrapped his arm around you “ hey babe! are you ready to train hard! not harder than me because the manly thing to do would be to train the hardest “ he smiled you nodded “ honestly i’m probably the only one who really needs this extra training “ you shook your head, kiri used this opportunity to turn you away and walk you back to their side you noticed this “i- “ you turned back to tetsutetsu who was waving with a chuckle, kiri balled his fist up as you both were away now he’d taken you back to his friends and there you were again not knowing what was going on but somehow still in the middle of the conversation what with denki and kirishima pulling you in for your input on topics here and there how could you space out

as you all stood in your hero outfits you crossed your arms waiting then a loud alarm went off you covered your ears quickly as villains ran out, but they weren’t normal villains they were teachers pretending but man were they being destructive ida and kendo were quick to call out plays and plans each class following the instructions of the most trusted

you all were off quick, you wanted to be a sidekick.. something like hawks you wanted to make someone else make their way to greatness so your training was a but different, you ran in jumping through the sky at fast speeds and teleporting in mid air getting all the play civilians out the way of harm

kirishima followed behind you using his quirk to break any rubble that flew your way as he took down the villains guarding those who you had to save, as soon as you got everyone back you were on the guard to watch them, making sure no one was harmed or injured you stood up grabbing your long swords putting some of your quirk energy into them to make the weapon more powerful, you watched the door to the safe haven that held the civilians

before you could even look over a kick was sent your way sending you down, you blocked it at the last moment but couldn’t stop the momentum, looking down at your arms where the blow had landed now being a bit of red “fuck” you mumbled as you jumped up in the tree where you had been knocked down from

You crouch on a thick branch, hidden in the shadows of the training dome’s artificial forest. Your katanas are ready, the familiar weight grounding you as you listen for any sign of movement below. Mirko, the Rabbit Hero, is somewhere in the underbrush—fast, you know it. you saw her. she was playing the villain today. You knew she wouldn’t hold back.

Your Quirk hums with energy, primed for teleportation and high jumps. A snap of branches below signals her approach. You catch a glimpse of white—a flash of her ears—before she rockets upward, aiming directly for you. Instinct kicks in, and you teleport just as her powerful kick obliterates the branch you were perched on. You reappear on another limb, high above, your senses sharp.

Mirko grins as she spots you, her relentless speed closing the distance in an instant. You teleport again, keeping her guessing, your katanas flashing in the dim light as you strike from behind. She’s fast, but you’re quicker, anticipating her every move. There’s something more at stake today—a subtle caution in your movements, a reason to protect yourself with even greater precision.

As you battle Mirko, another clash unfolds in the training dome. Best Jeanist, acting as the “boss” villain, uses his Quirk to control the fibers around him, manipulating the environment to ensnare his opponents. Six students—Bakugo, Ashido, and Sero from Class 1A, along with Monoma, Tokage, and Kamakiri from Class 1B—face off against him.

Jeanist’s fibers snake through the simulated city, creating barriers and traps. Bakugo blasts through them with his explosions, shouting, “Outta my way, you damn extras!” His relentless energy sends shockwaves across the battlefield, but Jeanist adapts, tightening his grip.

Ashido melts the barriers with her acid, clearing paths, while Sero swings through the chaos with his tape. Monoma, ever the strategist, copies Sero’s Quirk, using it in tandem to bind Jeanist’s fibers. “We need to coordinate better!” Monoma urges.

Bakugo scoffs, “Like I’m taking orders from you, copycat!”

As the battle intensifies, Tokage splits her body into pieces, scattering around Jeanist to create distractions. Kamakiri slashes through the fibers with his blades, trying to cut a path forward. But Jeanist’s control is overwhelming, and the group struggles to gain ground.

In the midst of the chaos, Tokage yells, “Bakugo, we need your explosions to disrupt him! Sero, get ready to tie him down!”

Bakugo sneers, “Don’t tell me what to do!”

Before Bakugo can argue further, Sero snaps at him, “Bakugo, focus! We won’t win if you don’t listen!”

Bakugo glares but knows Sero’s right. “Fine! But this better work!” he grumbles.

With a fierce explosion, Bakugo creates a massive shockwave that shakes the battlefield, forcing Jeanist to lose control of his fibers. Sero and Monoma act quickly, shooting their tape to bind Jeanist’s arms and legs. Tokage’s scattered body parts add confusion, while Kamakiri slashes through any fibers that attempt to regroup.

Ashido seizes the moment, dousing the area around Jeanist with her acid, weakening his defenses. Bakugo delivers a final, powerful blast, breaking through Jeanist’s control entirely.

Best Jeanist, impressed by their unexpected synergy, concedes, “Well done. You’ve shown real teamwork.”

The exercise ends with the announcement of their victory. The six students, panting but triumphant, exchange looks of pride. Bakugo scowls, though a hint of satisfaction lingers in his eyes. “Tch, you better not get used to me listening to you,” he mutters.

As the victorious team of students from Classes 1A and 1B stay on guard, the sounds of their fight ending echo faintly through the training dome. But in another part of the dome, your battle is far from over.

The clash between you and Mirko is intense, the training exercise pushing both of you to the limit

As she dodges and lunged again, you teleport above her, diving down with your katanas poised for a decisive strike. She barely has time to react, twisting to avoid the worst of it, but your blade still grazes her side. The impact sends you both tumbling through the branches, but you teleport just before hitting the ground, landing lightly as Mirko rolls to her feet.

She’s breathing hard, a grin of respect on her face. “You’re tough to pin down,” she admits, clearly impressed.

You lower your swords slightly, maintaining your focus. “Speed alone won’t win this,” you reply, your voice steady.

Mirko nods, hopping back with a look that says she’s noticed the change in your approach, even if she doesn’t understand it. “Keep fighting like that, and you’ll be unstoppable.”

As she gets away, you know the real challenge is just beginning. You’ve proven you’re more than ready for what’s ahead, your Quirk sharp, your resolve even sharper ready to hold your own in this damned class.

You make your way through the dense forest, each step feeling heavier than the last. The training dome’s artificial environment is convincing, but it’s the fatigue that’s all too real. You haven’t eaten anything today—only managed to keep down some water before throwing up this morning—but you push the discomfort aside. There’s still work to be done.

The small house where the civilians are sheltered comes into view, and you spot Kirishima at the entrance, standing guard. His eyes brighten when he sees you, and he quickly makes his way over. “Hey! You hanging in there?”

You nod, though the dizziness is getting harder to ignore. “Just checking on the civilians,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. The last thing you want is for him to notice how worn out you’re feeling.

Kirishima gives you a once-over, his expression softening with concern. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t look too great.”

You force a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a rough morning.”

He frowns slightly, still not convinced. “You’ve been going nonstop. If you need to take a break, I can handle things here.”

The offer is tempting, but you shake your head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll grab something to eat at lunch.”

Together, you check on the civilians inside the house. They’re safe, which is a relief, but you can feel your energy fading fast. The lightheadedness intensifies, and you have to steady yourself against the doorframe as you step back outside.

The sun is warm, filtering through the leaves, but it does little to chase away the chill that’s starting to settle in your bones. You take a deep breath, hoping it’ll clear your head, but your vision blurs slightly. You blink hard, focusing on Kirishima’s steady presence beside you.

“Training’s almost over,” he says, glancing around. “Looks like 1A and 1B really pulled together.”

You nod, though even that small motion feels like it takes too much effort. The teamwork between the classes has paid off, and the announcement over the intercom confirms it. “Good work, everyone. Classes 1A and 1B, please return to the main building for lunch.”

Kirishima grins, giving you a thumbs-up. “We did it!”

You return the gesture weakly, your thoughts consumed by the idea of food. “Let’s head back,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

As you walk toward the exit, Kirishima stays close, his eyes never leaving you. “Seriously, if you’re not feeling well, let me help. I’ll make sure you get to the cafeteria, okay?”

You manage a small sigh your head throbbing “ill be fine i swear it” you softly say

He smiles, but there’s an undercurrent of multiple different emotions but the main one , concern. that he doesn’t dare voice. You’re grateful for him even letting you out the dorm today, even if you can’t quite place why you’re feeling so off. Right now, all you can think about is getting something to eat and shaking off this strange weakness. you’ve used up your teleportation for the day. one of the main reasons you hardly use that quirk

The victory in the training exercise feels distant as you focus on making it back to the main building. Lunch is next, and you know you need to refuel. Whatever’s going on, you’ll figure it out later—after you’ve had a chance to rest and recover.

After the intense training exercise, the students head back to the main building for lunch. The atmosphere is lighter, filled with chatter and the clinking of trays. You and Kirishima, freshly changed and looking a bit worn, make your way to the cafeteria. His hand is firmly on your hip, a constant presence as he guides you through the crowd.

The usual suspects from Class 1A and 1B have already gathered, their voices mingling in a cacophony of post-training relief. Kirishima steers you toward an empty table, where Midoriya, Uraraka, Jiro, and others from both classes are waiting.

“Hey, y/n!” Midoriya greets enthusiastically, notebook and pen still in hand. “So, how was your work study? Kirishima mentioned it was pretty intense.”

“Yeah,” Uraraka chimes in, “did you get to face any villains or learn new techniques?”

Bakugo, sitting with his usual scowl, adds, “Hope it wasn’t just some fluff job. Better be something worth your time.”

Kirishima, his arm around you, smiles brightly. “It was definitely a challenging experience! But y/n’s been working hard and could use a break. Maybe we should save the details for another time?”

Denki, leaning forward, grins. “Come on, just a little teaser? Was it as crazy as the stuff we did today?”

You give a tired smile, thankful for Kirishima’s attempt to shift focus. “It was... pretty demanding. I learned a lot, though.”

Jiro tilts her head, still curious. “Kirishima made it sound like you were in the thick of it. Any cool stories?”

You nod slightly, glancing at Kirishima. “Maybe I’ll share more later. For now, I’m just looking forward to some food and a bit of rest.”

Kirishima chuckles, squeezing your shoulder gently. “Yeah, let’s focus on enjoying lunch. We all worked hard today.”

As you settle into your seat, Kirishima finally releases his grip, though his hand lingers close by. The group’s curiosity remains piqued, and Midoriya presses further. “Come on, y/n, just a bit more about your work study?”

You take a deep breath, smiling to keep up the pretense. “Alright, fine. There was this one moment I fought a hero pretending to be a villain. It was pretty intense. I used some of the techniques I picked up to keep up with her.”

“Really?” Uraraka leans in, eyes wide. “What happened?”

You nod, picking up your fork. “Well, I was up against Mirko, the Rabbit Hero. She’s incredibly fast. I had to rely on my teleportation and high jumps to stay out of her reach. There was one time I was perched in a tree, and she charged at me. I teleported just before she reached me and struck from above. It was a close call.”

Jiro looks impressed. “Sounds like you had to stay on your toes. Did you use any new moves or strategies?”

You nod, keeping the details vague. “Yeah, I combined some of the techniques I’d been working on. Like using my teleportation to disorient her and then hitting her with a surprise attack. It wasn’t exactly easy, but I managed to pull through.”

Bakugo, with a skeptical look, mutters, “Sounds like you didn’t learn anything new but just got to show off your usual tricks.”

You shrug, a smirk playing on your lips. “You could say that. Sometimes it’s just about using what you’ve already mastered in new ways.”

Kirishima grins, relieved by the change of topic. “Well, whatever you did, it must have been impressive. I’m just glad you’re back and in one piece.”

The conversation shifts, with everyone eager to share their own experiences from the training. As you enjoy your meal, you let yourself relax, the warmth of the cafeteria and the friendly banter a welcome contrast to the day’s earlier chaos.

As the group finishes classes up and heads back to their dorms, you and Kirishima make your way to your “shared” dorm. The atmosphere in the hall is relaxed, filled with the casual chatter of students winding down after the day’s training.

When you finally reach the door to your room, Kirishima’s usual easygoing smile fades, replaced by a more serious expression. You notice the change, but before you can ask, he opens the door and ushers you inside.

The moment the door clicks shut, Kirishima’s demeanor shifts from jovial to intense. He turns to face you, his brows furrowed.

“Hey, what was that back there with Tetsutetsu?”

You look up, startled. “What do you mean?”

“You seemed pretty chummy with him,” Kirishima says, his voice edged with frustration. “He was all over you, and you didn’t exactly push him away.”

You quickly try to defuse the situation. “It wasn’t like that. He was just being friendly.”

Kirishima’s expression hardens. “Friendly? You were practically cornered by him. I saw the way he looked at you. I don’t like it.”

You shake your head, trying to explain.

“Kirishima, it’s nothing. We were just talking in barely even know the guy.”

His frustration doesn’t wane. “It’s not just about him. It’s about how he was acting like he had some claim over you, and it bothered me.”

Seeing his anger, you try to reassure him. “Kiri, it really was nothing. I wasn’t interested in him. He was just a bit too forward, and I was trying to be polite.”

“bullshit so laughing and talking and blushing is being polite.” he looked away growing more annoyed with the situation. “y/n don’t- make me.. do something i don’t want to.. it won’t be very heroic.” he said as he walked into the dorm more going to his closet to take his close off and change

you worried about that statement.. what did he mean..?

whatever he meant this anger needed to go somewhere.

“y/n.” he called from the bedroom..

PART 1 (part 3 coming soon)

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mika-writes-fanfics · 1 month ago

Text

Blue-Flamed Forest

Witch!Dabi x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: fantasy AU, medieval AU, witch!Touya, witch!reader, time skip, creampie, mating press, fluff and smut, soft Touya, teasing

Synopsis: Time has now passed since your initial meeting with Touya. You've come to learn more about yourself and your new abilities, all with the gentle guidance of Touya. But... you find yourself feeling more for him than just someone who lives in his home. When he speaks, your mind blanks, too busy on watching the way his lips move to even absorb a word. Your feelings come to a fever pitch when you playfully steal his hat. So what happens when you decide to act on your desires?

Author's note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN (early). Okay so I know I have been gone awhile buuuuut I figure with halloween right around the corner... I should rly get around to showing witch!Touya some love. And so, here you are.

Word Count: 6.2K

Heavily inspired by this art by the lovely shoucolate

Masterlist

Link to AO3

Part Two

It has been some time since you first arrived. You’ve grown accustomed to both life in the forest and life with Touya. The seasons have since changed. All of the trees have shed their leaves and a thin blanket of snow covers the ground. Usually, around wintertime, you’d struggle to stay warm and heat your shop while you drowned in needlework. But now? Touya’s home -no- your home is never cold, the fire always alit with his glowing blue flames. The only struggles you truly face are from attempting to understand runic language and from trying to stay awake with how cozy your home is. Which brings you to now, finding Touya has lost that battle and slumbers peacefully. It’s a sight that makes you smile, seeing him so serene.

He must not have intended to fall asleep, as he’s still wearing his hat. The pointed hat is now crumpled against the chaise. You’re able to really look at him like this, to fully drink in his features; the slope of his nose, his pretty white eyelashes, the contour of his lips… You try to push down these thoughts of yours when they come around, but you can’t help but think he’s quite attractive. It’s becoming increasingly distracting lately. Just the other day, when he was so close to you, attempting to help you understand a particularly confusing spell from his books, you couldn’t stop staring at his lips and thinking about what they would feel like against yours. You can’t even remember what he said then, it’s gotten to be that troublesome for you.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when he seems to stir in his sleep, brows pinching together as he mumbles incoherently. You knew of his troubles sleeping, but you never had the chance to see what he was talking about, as the two of you slept separately. It seems to you as if he’s having an unpleasant dream. The thought of him having nightmares while you stand there and do nothing doesn’t sit well with you. You don’t want to disturb his slumber, so you decide against awakening him. Instead, you choose to soothe him.

You sit next to him on the available space of the chaise. Your fingers deftly trace the runes on his skin. The contact seems to calm him, as his brow slowly relaxes and his mumbling subsides. You wonder if he has bad dreams often, silently carrying that burden all on his own. The thought makes you determined to get to know him better. You want to become someone he trusts, someone he can rely on. You’ve been grateful for his help in understanding yourself and your new abilities, but you can’t help but worry the relationship has been one-sided, with you disproportionately benefitting while he gets nothing in return. You want to help him too, you’re just not sure how.

You must have been too enamored in your own introspection to notice he had awoken. His eyes flutter open and drearily peer at you. You feel frozen in place.

“Y-you’re awake,” you stutter. Your cheeks feel hot. You turn away as you apologize. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he dismisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than normal. Hearing him speak this way sends a tingle down your spine. Your eyes are magnetically drawn to him despite your embarrassment and you glance over at him. He gives you a soft smile as he rubs the remnants of sleep from his eyes. It seems the dregs of drowsiness are wearing off of him, as he flirts, “I wouldn’t mind waking up like that more often.”

“Waking up like what?” you ask, inquisitively.

He merely smirks at you, before clarifying, “To you.” His sweet words make you feel even more flustered.

“You tease me too much, Touya,” you huff.

“I do not,” he defends, sitting up as he denies your accusation and closing some of the distance between you. “I don’t think I do it enough, actually.”

“Well in that case…” you start, before trailing off at the end of your sentence. Touya looks at you expectantly. You snatch his witch’s hat from his head and dodge his reaching hands by leaping up from your spot on the chaise. “Until you stop teasing me, this will be mine.”

You place the hat atop your head. He’s staring at you with a shocked expression. His stunned demeanor makes you a little nervous, causing you to question if your attempt at playfulness has instead insulted him. You try to maintain the lighthearted mood by asking, “What, does it not suit me?”

His mind is flooding with thoughts of you wearing more of his clothes. Or better yet, you in nothing but his hat.

He’s gotta get that damn thing back.

“As much as it does, I’ll be taking that,” he says. You give him a mischievous smile.

“You’ll have to catch me then,” you challenge. And with that, the chase begins. Touya is much quicker than you expected, as he gains on you quickly. You duck and dodge his efforts to snatch the hat from your head. It’s after a particularly close call that you think of a devious idea. You still have the rune marks on your skin from practicing earlier, the letters temporarily stained onto your skin with simple ink. It’s nothing more than a simple spell, something you learned from him, in fact, but maybe it’ll help you prolong this little game. A chair is pulled out ahead of his path, so not as to cause him to trip and hurt himself but to serve as an obstacle, in an attempt to buy yourself a few more seconds. He catches it with his hand and pushes it out of his way.

“It’ll take more than a cheap trick to stop me,” he brags, before resuming the chase.

You maneuver carefully and quickly through the halls. You’re nearing the end of the hall, so you have to make the quick decision to dive into a room. You choose to bolt into your bedroom. It’s rather small and a dead end, but maybe you could figure out a way to dart past him and win this little game. His pace is slower as he enters your room, knowing full well that you’re cornered with nowhere to go. You attempt to run past him, but his arms circle around your waist. He grabs you and spins you around in his arms. You let out a surprised squeal.

“Alright, alright, you win,” you concede, speaking in between giggles. He gently places you down on the ground. You reach up and place his hat back on his head. Your arms seem to hesitate. You don’t want to stop touching him just yet, so you rest one of your arms on his shoulder, like a faux embrace, while your other hand adjusts his hat. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he leans into your touch. One of his hands rests upon your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You feel more secure in your gestures, and you drape your arms behind his neck.

You’ve been afraid of overstepping by touching him all this time, but his reactions make you realize he really doesn’t mind. It’s as if he’s been starved for touch. The thought of him being so deprived of human interaction makes you a bit saddened. You remember what you were thinking about on the chaise, how you wish to understand him more. How can you expect to learn more about him if you never take the chance to ask?

“Touya?” You ask, unsure. You’re curious, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Please forgive my prying and my sudden question, but… did you ever feel lonely?” you ask softly. “I just… I can’t help but wonder what it was like for you, to be alone all these years.”

“Even before,” he starts, referencing his time as a royal. “I never was much of a socialite. Being alone is natural for me.”

“Hm, is that so?” You hum, before continuing in a softer, almost somber tone, “I hope my presence hasn’t ruined that for you.” He’s quick to deny it, dispelling your worries.

“No, not a chance. I…,” he pauses. There’s a slight flush that begins to creep upon his cheeks as he hesitates to speak more. Your eyes catch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, before his next admission falls from his tongue.

“I have enjoyed your company,” he admits. His other hand finds itself on your waist and the two of you hold one another. Your heart seems to stutter.

“But would you continue to enjoy it?” You challenge. His gestures get bolder, as he pulls you flush against him, his arms wrapped around your torso. “You’re stuck with me now. Would that ever be tiring?”

“I don’t think such a thing is possible,” he reassures.

“I sure hope not,” you murmur. He gives you a soft smile that you find yourself returning, lifting the mood. The two of you embrace comfortable silence, gazing into each other’s eyes with enamored expressions, until he seems to be lost in thought. You don’t notice how his eyes flick from your eyes to your lips.

“Can I…” he trails off, shyly. You raise an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. His face reddens more when he finally rushes out, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathe, responding almost embarrassingly fast. A quick flash of relief crosses his face upon hearing your enthusiasm before being replaced by a loving smile. The space between the two of you closes as his face draws closer to yours. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut and your lips part.

You can feel him fighting back a smile when your lips finally touch. The feeling of his lips on yours is everything you imagined and more; soft and sweet, loving yet passionate. Despite finally feeling his lips on yours, satisfying your desire, you find yourself yearning for more. You want to feel more of him, all of him. The thought fills you with a fire you’ve never felt before. You throw yourself to the flames and kiss him back with fervor as you card one of your hands through his soft, white hair.

He holds you tighter against him as his lips work against yours. Your heart feels like it could just burst when he deepens the kiss and runs his tongue along your lip. His tongue brushes against yours when you part your lips further. The action makes you sharply inhale. You’re intoxicated by him, drunk on every sensation he gives you, to the point it feels almost dizzying. The desire you feel makes you weak in the knees and your arm tightens around him in an attempt to not sway on the spot, but this task seems almost impossible when you feel something hard pressing against you.

Reluctantly, you part for air, trying to catch your breath before your knees really give out on you. He rests his forehead on yours as the two of you both pant in unison. Your stomach flutters when you lock eyes with him, noticing the way he looks at you, eyes half lidded. The sight of him like this… and all for you. All because of you.

It fills you with desperation.

A desperate need for more.

After the two of you catch your breath, he moves to give you space, taking your choice to part for air as a sign to stop, but you pull him closer and cling onto his shirt. You don’t want to stop anytime soon.

“M-more,” you whisper, want apparent in your breathy voice. He lets out a soft, airy chuckle at your neediness and leans in for a kiss, but gives you nothing more than a quick peck on the lips before pulling away.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere more comfortable, hm?” he suggests. “Is the bed okay with you?

You instantly agree, maybe a little too eagerly, much to your embarrassment. He doesn’t tease you about it, something you’re silently thankful for. In fact, he seems to reward your honesty and enthusiasm by pressing a few heated kisses to your jaw. His bold actions make your knees nearly buckle and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

Bastard.

Your steps are now clumsy, thanks to his flustering, as he leads you down the hallway. But now in your room, the magnetism between the two of you pulls you together once more. His lips find yours and he kisses you with renewed fervor. It’s equal parts passionate and desperate, carrying with it unspoken feelings of yearning and long awaited closeness. You return his feelings through your own actions, as you coax him forward by gripping his shirt collar.

Your movements are less than graceful as you both move. It’s a distracted waltz towards the bed, your minds too busy on the feeling of one another to focus on making controlled movements to your destination. Though, it doesn’t take too long, as after a few shared, airy laughs at your clumsiness, the back of your knees touch the bed. You yield to the furniture, lying down on the mattress and parting your legs. He soon joins you and kneels over you on the bed, his body tucked in between your thighs.

He moves on from your lips and slowly presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He kisses a particularly sensitive spot on your skin along your collarbone, earning a whine from your throat. The sound of you keening for him only further spurs him on and he sucks the skin into his mouth, leaving behind a faint mark. Soft pants escape your lips as he continues marking your neck and chest, painting reminders of him on your skin, all the while he’s overcome with the need to hear more of your sweet moans.

You feel his hard length press in between your legs, now tantalizingly close in the new position. Your breath hitches and your heart leaps in your chest upon feeling his hips rut against you, grinding against your core. The feeling nearly drives you to the edge of blind passion, as you battle the desire to rip both your clothes off and feel his hot skin against yours. But as much as you’d love to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him now, there’s a gnawing worry in the back of your mind.

“W-wait,” you stammer between panting breaths. He freezes at your request and pulls back slightly.

“What is it, my love?” He asks. You can hear a faint twinge of worry in his voice. His hand finds your knee and traces circles through your skirt fabric, his own way of soothing both you and himself in this moment. He looks at you, expectantly, not wanting to move until you speak your mind.

“Maybe…” You start, before trailing off. A soft curse escapes your lips as you grapple between your desires and your relational mind. Your chest is heaving and you bite your lip. When your words finally find you, they’re hesitant and hushed, “Maybe we should stop.”

“Is that what you want?” He questions.

“Well, no, but… I don’t wish to have a child yet,” you explain shyly, insinuating what would come next. Touya raises a brow, as if he knows something you don’t.

“That?” He questions. “Something so simple is solvable with an easy spell, done after.”

“It is?” You ask, voice pitched an octave higher in surprise.

“Yes,” he assures you with a soft smile. Your amazement at magic is always so endearing to him. But, despite this problem being easily worked around, he knows such a revelation is sudden. He’d love to take you now, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “Though if you’re unsure, we can just-”

“No,” you interrupt, quickly cutting off his next words. You tenderly cup his face. “It’s okay, I want to.”

“If you are sure…” He whispers. His eyes flutter close as he leans forward and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss, before picking up where he left off. Only this time, he starts a new trail down your neck, adorning you with more marks suckled into your skin. You’re painted in his colors as he works over your neck, occasionally soothing over the now bruising skin with his tongue. Both the feeling of his mouth over your sensitive neck and the thought of him laying claim to you like this has you squirming underneath him.

His lips inch closer to your hemline, and you find yourself wanting to rip off your own clothes if it means you’d feel the sin of his lips grace more of you. He seems to sense your frustration and he pulls himself away from you. As he’s now sitting up, his greedy eyes admire the sight of you below him.

Through his eyes, you look absolutely irresistible like this; your eyes opium blown with lust, your neck mottled with love marks, your dress slowly slipping off your shoulders, and your lips parted and kiss-swollen. If you look this alluring to him still fully clothed, he wonders just how much more he’ll want you upon seeing your bare skin.

The thought spurs him on. His hands snake under your skirt and grip your thighs. The fabric hikes up your legs, exposing your skin to the cool air and to his gaze. Bit by bit, his hands ascend up your thighs and onto your hips, tracing the curves of your body along the way.

Even with your inexperience, you understand what he wants. You reach for your metal girdle belt and unlatch it, allowing the chain to pool against the bed. With your belt no longer in the way, he helps you pull your dress and chemise over your head. You lift your hips and he rids you of the rest of your underclothes.

You’re now fully undressed in front of him. The realization makes you feel insecure, only further worsened by his gaze on your body. You try to cover yourself with your arms out of reflex, but he tuts at your insecurity and grabs your arms, pinning them to the bed.

“Feeling shy, are we?” he teases, his husky voice only serving to worsen your embarrassment. You avert your eyes from his and worry your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Love, what is there to be shy about?”

“It’s just… I’m sure you’ve seen more appealing women than I,” you answer, speaking softly and unsure. “I’m worried I’m… disappointing.”

“Not a chance,” he assures. His voice drops an octave and he compliments, “Had I not already known you were a witch, I’d have taken you for a succubus.” He dives in for a passionate kiss on your lips, soothing your insecurity. When he pulls away, he breathily reaffirms, “You are heavenly.”

He punctuates his point by pressing a kiss in between your breasts. Both his actions and words fluster you, but you’re not able to hide your face from his gaze with your arms pinned to the mattress. His lips begin to roam the expanse of your chest until he reaches your nipples, where he places an open-mouthed kiss on them before taking your bud into his mouth. His tongue draws circles around your nipple. You moan and arch your back at the foreign sensation. Wetness pools in between your legs with every flick of his tongue.

“So sensitive,” he teases, speaking against your skin after pulling away from your breast.

“How can I not be when you’re-“ you start, before he latches onto your other nipple and chokes off your retort. You shoot him a glare, to which he smirks at upon releasing your chest with a wet pop.

“‘S not a bad thing, my dear,” he says. “It’s flattering.”

“Ugh, you’re so unfair,” you groan.

“How so?”

“You keep teasing me and…”

“And?”

“And… you’re still…” you struggle to say the rest, trailing off at the end. This situation on its own is embarrassing for you, much less speaking your mind. He looks at you expectantly, urging you to continue. You swallow down your shyness and avert your eyes from his intense gaze when you speak again. “It’s easier for you to fluster me when I’m unclothed and you’re not.”

“So you want to see me naked? How naughty,” he chastises, though his words lack any true admonishment and are instead laced with amusement and cockiness.

“Oh shut up,” you shoot back. You groan at his taunting. “I just want to touch you, all of you, without your clothes in the way.”

“Then let me give you what you want,” He obliges with a smirk. His warmth leaves you momentarily for him to shed his clothes. You prop yourself up on your forearms to watch him.

First, his loose robe is lazily guided off of his shoulders. Then, he pulls his white shirt off, allowing you the full view of his stomach. It flusters you more to see a modest set of toned muscle along his abdomen, hiding underneath swaths of his torso adorned with more runic tattoos. His arms flex slightly as the shirt is completely pulled off and thrown elsewhere.

You push yourself off of your arms and sit upright, now closer to his bare upper half. Your hands trace over the now bare skin of his arms, trailing along the tattooed runes, and eventually making your way to the planes of his chest. He shudders slightly as your fingers dance further and further down his body. His breathing significantly picks up when your twitching fingers dare to graze the beginning of his pelvis.

You look up at him and bat your lashes. It’s a silent demand. He hasn’t fulfilled your wish yet; there’s still clothing between the two of you. His hand caresses your jaw, tenderly, before acquiescing to your request. He withdraws from you and stands to undoe the fastening of his pants. And with that, he’s now bare before you.

Your eyes travel down the contours of his abs and to his pelvis. Much like the hair on his head, there’s a patch of white at the base of his hard length. You’ve not seen much of the male anatomy, but from what you can gather, he’s rather large. You start to worry, just how is this supposed to fit?

You must have said what you were thinking aloud, and he answers your worries.

“It will. I’ll make it fit, my love,” he promises. He sees your apprehension and reaches for you. His knuckles tenderly strokes your cheek as he reassures you with a gentle voice, “I’ll go slow, just relax for me. Trust me.”

He gazes at you with an expression nothing short of adoration. Your heart swells at how softly he’s treating you, how he has never once through this interaction pushed you farther than you were comfortable with. With him, you know he’d treasure this part of yourself that you’re giving to him. You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves.

“Okay,” you answer. You look at him, reflecting back his look of love and smile. “I trust you.”

He closes the distance between you, bare bodies now touching, and presses a kiss to your lips, loving and soft at first. His tongue slips into your mouth and you moan at the intrusion. His hard cock brushes against your thigh at the sound, twitching all because of your moan.

His warm fingers slowly trail down your body, soothing over the goosebumps that pebble your bare skin. The pads of his fingers graze between your breasts, down your stomach, and over your mound. Your heart begins to race with anticipation when he drags closer to your core. He finally touches where you’re most desperate and your breath instantly hitches upon the contact. His fingers trace up and down your slit, drawing soft whines from your throat with every pass over your clit.

A few deliberate, harder presses against your clit sends soft waves of pleasure through you. The teasing, slow touches have you growing wetter for him, coating his fingers in a sheen. Seemingly satisfied with your evident arousal, he alters his goal, his touch now descending from your clit and focusing elsewhere. His fingers prod at your entrance before he slowly inserts one finger into your hole. You gasp at the foreign intrusion. His fingers feel so long yet delightfully thick. The feeling of makes your hips squirm.

He tests the waters cautiously first, pulling out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. When his digit has nearly slipped out of you, he searches your reaction, and upon seeing no traces of discomfort, slides back inside. His fingers then pump in and out of you, setting a comfortable pace. You let out soft gasps intermittently, finding pleasure in his movements.

Though, he seems to be looking for something, altering the angle of his fingers as they dive in and out of you. His gaze is affixed to your face. He’s searching for some sort of reaction. When his fingers press against the spongy bundle of nerves in your walls, you instantly keen. Your toes curl at the shockwaves of pleasure that scatter through your core at the feeling of his touch against your g-spot. He smirks at the sight.

“That’s it,” he cooes. “Feels good?”

“Y-yes, oh god, Touya,” you moan loudly, with a drawn out keen of his name. Your walls flutter around his finger as he continues to bully into your most sensitive spot. The feeling of you pulsing around him clouds his mind and he enters a lust filled haze.

“Yeah, keep saying my name like that,” he breathes. His eyes are half lidded as he starts to imagine the way you’ll feel around his cock. Fuck, the thought has him realizing he needs to get you properly prepped and stretched for him. “Think you can take another?”

Your legs instinctively part wider for him, at the thought of being stuffed full on his fingers. You nod at his question. You’re eager to feel more of him. He sucks in a breath and pulls out until just the pad of his middle finger is nestled in your cunt. His tattooed ring finger collects the beads of wetness slipping out of your core, before slowly pushing in alongside his other finger. The delicious stretch has you moaning and arching on the bed. And with the new position of his hands, the palm of his hand grinds against your clit with every slow thrust of his fingers. The surprise of the new sensation has you throwing your arms around his neck.

“T-Touya,” you whimper. The pleasure he’s giving you is too much, yet not enough at the same time. There’s a pressure that’s building up inside of you, a white hot pleasure that threatens to spill over. It’s a foreign feeling, yet it’s something you find yourself chasing.

“M-more. Please Touya,” you beg sweetly. Your eyes are welling with tears, all from the sexual frustration. It makes his heart stutter when you bat your lashes at him, now damp with tears threatening to spill over. The hands behind his neck now card and tug through his hair.

You’re driving him fucking crazy.

He surges forward and captures your lips. His pace quickens. The pleasure drives you crazy, especially when the fingers delving into you keep curling up and hitting that delicious spot inside of you. It doesn’t help that now his palm firmly presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves with every inward thrust of his fingers. You moan and whimper into his mouth desperately, to which he eagerly and greedily swallows by tangling his tongue with yours. Your fingers harshly tug his white locks as you find the pleasure coiling up your spine. You let out a salacious, sinful sound as your release dances on the edge.

He pulls away from the kiss to whisper a warning against your lips, “If you keep moaning like that I won’t even last.”

True to his words, you glance down at his cock, instantly feeling flustered upon seeing his tip leaking precum and his whole cock throbbing. It just barely brushes against you with each furious bob up and down.

You bite your lip and swallow down your sounds, wanting him to last. Despite your release so close, you find yourself wanting something else instead.

“Please take me, Touya,” you blurt out. His pace falters and he releases a curse under his breath.

“You temptress,” he hisses. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut. His jaw clenches as his chest heaves slightly. “What did I just say about me not lasting if you keep…” He grits his teeth, a shaky, tense sigh slipping past.

Who is he to deny you though? He’ll cave to your wishes every time, giving as much of himself as he can before falling apart. He scissors his fingers inside of you, the sudden movement accompanied by a mild twinge of pressure.

“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” He asks. His crystal blue eyes stare at you intently, half lidded yet still searching for any hint of hesitation in you.

“Yes,” you reply. “Take me, please Touya. Make me yours.”

He sucks in a breath. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” he admits.

He takes himself by the base and aligns with your slit. It’s teasing how he runs himself up and down your lips. You feel as if he’s still torturing you with pleasure, not realizing he’s gathering up your slick. He’s staying true to his words that he’ll make it fit.

With his head now coated in a layer of sheen, his cock head pushes into your twitching hole, inching in slowly. You feel a slight pinch at the intrusion. The pain makes you gasp and whimper. Unwittingly, your nails also dig into the back of his neck.

It reminds him to go slow with you, despite the intense pleasure he feels upon your tight walls clamping around his head. Seconds drag on as he pushes himself further inside of you, every inch stretching you beyond what you’d think physically possible. It’s dizzying how full you feel.

With one more slow cant of his hips forward, he’s nestled into you to the hilt, his pelvis meeting your thighs. He sighs at the feeling of your body wrapped around his full length. His forehead rests against yours as the two of you take a moment to breathe. He soothingly runs his thumb over your cheek, silently acknowledging your initial discomfort.

When your breathing normalizes and the traces of pain leave your expression, he pulls his hips back, allowing his shaft to almost slide out of you until only the head remains. A whimper escapes your mouth as he slowly slides back in. It elicits a strange feeling inside you, bordering between not quite pain, but not quite pleasure yet.

“Shh,” he coos. He’s reassuring and gentle as he speaks, “I’ve got you. You’ll feel better soon, my darling.”

Soft praises consisting of ‘you’re doing so well’ and ‘I’ll take care of you’ spill from his lips with every slow, deep thrust of his hips. His praises make you dizzy, and the feeling of his length pressing against your cervix doesn’t help. You feel so full. You’re sure you’d see the outline of him inside of you if you looked down.

A particular thrust seems to brush against that gummy spot inside of you, and the initial discomfort gives way to blissful pleasure. Upon seeing your relaxed and lustful expression, he sets a faster rhythm. Every drawn out drag of his hips against yours starts to build up.

A thick sheen of sweat coats his pale skin and his thrusts become faster, more purposeful. You’re writhing underneath him, arching your back and dipping your hips to meet his thrusts. It’s clear you’re becoming desperate for more.

He hooks his hands under your knees and presses your thighs to your chest. You gasp at the mating press he pushes you into, feeling the burn of your thighs and a burn in your ears from the embarrassment of being splayed open. His cock seems to go deeper in you and is angled at the perfect spot. Your walls clamp down on him as his head nudges against your g spot. He feels your reaction to the new angle and lets out a groan.

His hips snap forward harshly, causing an audible smack between your bodies. The contact taps your clit and has you instantaneously keening. Eager for more of the feeling on your bundle of nerves, your hand snakes between your legs to toy with the hood of your clit. He catches sight of your sneaking hand. His eyes go dark at seeing you chase pleasure.

“Hold these for me, will you?” He requests, guiding your own hands to the back of your thighs. Words of protest, regarding how indecent you feel, die upon your lips. With his hands now free, his fingers find his way to your clit now, rubbing tight circles.

He feels you tighten up around him, your walls contracting in an impending orgasm. His eyes focus on you in this moment as he’s attuned to your every reaction. You look so beautiful to him in this moment, with your face contorted in pleasure, your lips parted from panting and moaning, your pupils opium blown and dilated. He just knows you’ll look even prettier when you fall apart under him.

“‘S too much,” you whine. Despite your assertion of overstimulation, he ignores your protest. His movements on you clit fasten and he pushes harder against your bundle of nerves.

“Shhh, you can take it. I know you can,” he assures. He slightly quickens his pace and continues to rub your clit. “You’re close, I can feel it. Just let go. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, Touya!” You scream, his words urging you to come setting you off. Your legs shake and convulse with the intensity of your orgasm. A flood of wetness escapes your hole, allowing his thrusts the lubrication to work you through your climax, despite how tightly your walls attempt to suck him in.

He steals a quick glance to where your bodies meet, seeing a ring of cream coating the base of his cock. His eyes nearly roll back at the sight and his hips slam into you harshly out of impulse.

“God, you’re so tight. ‘M gonna-” he warns, before he lets out a punched out sound, the words dying on his lips. His hips stutter as he reaches his end. You feel his hot release spill over inside you, filling you with warmth. He continues to pump shallow thrusts, working himself through his own climax. Your ears burn upon hearing the sound of faint squelching coming from your hole.

You relax the grip on your thighs and allow your legs to relax. He takes the hint and slowly pulls out of you, causing a trickle of your shared releases to gush from you.

“Wait here,” he whispers. “Let me get something to clean you up.”

You nod at his command and wait for him on the bed. He returns quickly with something to wipe you down with. Soreness starts to settle between your legs, your body now aching from the stretch of him. A sharp hiss escapes your lips when he touches your cunt with the fabric, and in reaction, mutters a soft apology. He gingerly runs the dampened cloth against your folds, wiping away the flood of your shared releases.

“Touya?” You ask. He hums in response, urging you to continue with your words. “The spell?”

“Don’t worry, that can be done within the day. You deserve some rest now,” he assures. You sigh in relief and motion for him to come closer. A chuckle escapes him, along with a playful tease of ‘so needy for me’, but he happily obliges your request.

He lays behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. The two of you lay like this, in harmony together, basking in the closeness. Your breathing steadies as one, and you’re sure your heartbeats begin to sync. The love you feel for him threatens to spill out of your soul.

The tenderness of the moment turns humorous as he shifts and grumbles behind you. “Mm, this bed isn’t very comfortable,” he complains. You instantly bark out a laugh.

“And you just now realized that? Now you know what I have felt in this bed,” you agree. He shakes his head.

“Apologies for that, my darling,” he apologizes. He seems to think for a moment before his voice deepens suggestively, “You know, mine has room for two. Why don’t you stay with me in mine from now on?”

You reach behind you and crane your neck to kiss his lips. “I’d love to,” you answer. He smiles against your lips and goes to move for another kiss, but you pull away to add. “But later, ‘m too sore to move.”

“But of course,” he laughs. You nuzzle back into his body and chase his warmth. Tattooed arms pull you flush with his chest, allowing all of your skin to meld with one another. Your eyelids feel heavy as sleep begins to wash over you. The last thing that crosses your mind is how staying here, with him, forever, sounds like heaven to you.

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shiggybrainr0t · 6 months ago

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your whole life you’ve been told to avoid the forest because of the wolf like beasts that live there. never would you have thought that it would be the beasts that came out of the forest to you.

part 1/?

pairing: aizawa x gn!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: guns, dead animals, parent death (non graphic), future smut

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune and the banner picture is from mark chance photography 🫶🏻 this will be my first series and I am very excited about it! i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter ❣️

when you were a child, the grass in the field just before the forest was almost as tall as you were. it was your favorite place to play, despite the disapproving looks from the town elders whenever you’d come back with wildflowers clutched in your hands. you weren’t the only child who played in the field, but you were the only one who got so close to the forest.

the field was a gorgeous sea of bright green, with pinks, purples, blues, and yellows sprinkled throughout like the colorful fish you saw in the ocean the time your papa took you out on his boat. perhaps it was because they were so close to forbidden territory, but the biggest and prettiest flowers were just by the edge of the forest, where the field was shadowed by tall trees.

that was were you found yourself today. your papa had been sick recently, which in turn made your mother sad, and you knew that they both loved when you brought them flowers. even when they were scolding you for going so close to the forest, they couldn’t quite hide their smiles when faced with your gift of love.

this day, you were so focused on finding the best flowers that you didn’t even notice whenever the birds stopped chirping and the air turned still. you didn’t notice the boy until he was right in front of you. he finally gained your attention by holding out a daisy towards you.

startled, you jumped back. surprised by your reaction, he did as well. for a few moments you both just looked at each other in shock. he was tall and gangly, most likely entering his teenage years by the way he towered over you. (though, at only eight years old, everyone towered over you.) memories of your papa telling you the stories about the beasts that lurked in the forest flashed through your brain. gnarly canines, clawed hands, and a hunger for flesh is what he described them as. this boy was just….dirty.

he was covered in dirt, like he had been rolling around in it before coming to you. his dark hair dangled past his ears, choppily sheared off at the chin. his eyes were bright when you looked at them, like a midnight sky full of stars. slowly, he reached out to hand you the daisy again.

it was an impressive daisy. large and in full bloom, you could practically smell it from where you stood a few feet away. cautiously, you took a small step forward and reach to grab it. your fingertips brushed his, and his whole body seemed to tremble. you stepped back quickly and clutched the daisy to your chest.

“th-thank you.” came your small, shaky voice. the boy’s eyelashes fluttered as he took a deep breath and then cleared his throat.

“are they your favorite? u’disnant?” his voice was gravely, like he wasn’t used to using it. the foreign word rolled smoother off his tongue.

“the daisy? um, yes they are.”

the boy nodded, and repeated “daisy” as if trying to memorize it. the sudden scream of your name from across the field made you both jump, and the boy’s lips pulled back in a viscous snarl. you flew around to see the village head aiming a shotgun in your direction.

frozen in your terror, you stare at a man you’ve known you’re whole life ready to kill you on the spot. a hand grabs your arm harshly and pulls you to the ground. you both tumble in the grass, the boy’s snarling drowned out by the loud crack of a gunshot.

now that you were out of immediate danger, you were able to think again. horror dawns on you as you realize the village head thinks this boy is a monster.

“you have to go! he thinks you’re one of the monsters!” your voice is frantic, verging on hysterical as you push at his shoulder as hard as you can. the boy barely moves, and instead looks down from where he’s hovering above you, eyes wide and angry, but also seemingly hesitant to leave you.

“he won’t hurt me, he’s after you! you need to go now!” at your urging, the boy finally pulls back, and with one last glance he runs through the grass and back into the darkness where the forest swallows him whole. another gunshot disturbs the oppressive atmosphere.

you never returned to the field, and the daisy was lost in the chaos.

your parents were rightfully horrified whenever they opened their door to find the village head gripping your shoulder tightly, and you sobbing. your papa held you as they were told what happened, and your mother’s face had lost all life whenever she turned around after seeing the head out.

you weren’t physically punished, as the village head throughly recommended, but instead forbidden from going to your field again. your parents had only let you go because they knew how much you loved it, so this was punishment enough. they knew they were right whenever your sobbing started up again at this declaration.

you felt like you would never feel the sunshine on your skin again. never feel the grass beneath your bare feet, and never hear the hums of the insects and chirps of the birds that created a musical just for you. that night, you slept snugly between your parents, as both of them needed the reassurance that you were still there.

it didn’t take long for word to spread around your village about what had happened in the field. despite you stressing that “it wasn’t a monster! it was just a boy!” you still were given a wide berth whenever you entered the village center to buy things for your parents. soon, you were ostracized completely, and even dubbed the “monster lover” by your peers.

it continues even to this day. you’re older now, just past your teen years, and your papa is gone. he left an emptiness in your house that has been eating away the foundation for years. one day you fear your mother will fall in.

the boy has become a fuzzy memory, something you are only sure actually happened because of everyone else not letting it go. sometimes you dream of red eyes peering at you, and when you awake in a cold sweat you swear you can see the same ones staring at you through your window.

the village has been getting antsy. the former village head has just passed on the title to his son, enji, and recently the village’s main farm found two of there goats slaughtered.

the farmer’s son (he being one of the few who actually talks to you), told you about it in detail while you were both at the river doing laundry.

“i’m telling you! i’ve never seen an animal tore up that way!” hizashi emphatically states as he grabs your arm and shakes it. his wide eyes are full of fear, you realize. this surprises you, because hizashi once ran off a coyote in order to protect the herd, and he has the scars to prove it.

“you need to be really careful! i know you like taking walks, so just promise me you won’t go on one alone anymore! at least until this animal is caught, ok?”

you give him a look, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. “who am i supposed to walk with? enji?”

that earns you a scoff, and then a considering look.

“he does have a soft spot for you, you know. i think he fancies you.”

that earns him a fake gag, which makes hizashi let out a loud laugh that echoes so loudly you’re sure the whole village can hear. the conversation moves on to more pleasant topics, and the rest of your chores passes quickly.

you drag your feet on the path home, already dreading the gloomy atmosphere that awaits. your mother lost a part of herself whenever your papa died, and each year the sharp blade of grief chips away more of her. she has become almost unrecognizable to you, her only child and someone who used to be so close to her.

you were always a little closer to your papa, but it was your mother who taught you how to create flower crowns, who kissed your bumps and scrapes, and who sang you lullabies whenever you had nightmares. now, you’re lucky to get a full conversation with her.

your house has become dilapidated, as it was your papa who did all the repairs whenever they were needed, and no body wants to go to the “monster lover’s” house and help. the entry, once lined with flowers, now has been overcome with weeds. you do your best with the upkeep, but some things simply escape your efforts. a sad entry for a sad house, you think.

surprisingly, your mother is at the table whenever you enter. her nimble fingers are knitting what could become a scarf or a shirt, and she has an empty expression on her face. at your footsteps, she looks up at you.

“there is a meeting at the town hall tonight.”

her voice is the same low, lovely tone it always has been, but it’s cold and gripping where it used to wrap around you like a cozy blanket. you simply nod, and get to work on a light supper you both can eat before you go.

you are both silent as you sit on one of the hard benches in the town hall. there were not many people there yet when you arrived, but you still chose a bench in the very back. it’s better for you to be as inconspicuous as possible at these sorts of events, you’ve learned. just as you hoped, barely anyone acknowledges the two of you, with the exception of hizashi and his family and a surprising nod from enji. a sinking feeling sweeps your gut as your friend’s words from earlier come back to you. the last thing you need is enji’s interest.

the whole town is here in the small building, so there are multiple people standing along the walls. you figure this must be a very important meeting, because even the old healer is there, and she never leaves her cottage anymore. a quiet takes over the room as enji makes his way to the podium at the front. his deep voice is commanding as he starts to speak.

“as you know, there have been multiple suspicious animal deaths in the village recently.” this raises murmurs from the people, and you see enji’s eye twitch in annoyance even from your place in the back.

“aside from this, the first wolf has been seen since the last sighting years ago.”

at this, several dozen people turn to look at you and your mother, making you shrink down. horrified gasps ring out, and fittingly a baby starts to cry at all the commotion. in a surprising display of affection, your mother grips your hand in hers tightly. you look over at her and her eyebrows are furrowed, eyes holding so many emotions its hard to make heads from tails.

“silence!” the room immediately goes mute as the village head harshly spits out the word. enji takes a deep breath, and begins again.

“due to this, i have decided we need to take proactive measures. we are going to hunt them before they can hunt us.”

there is no stopping the cacophony of sounds that rings out after this statement. enji seems to realize this, as he nods and steps down from the podium. kugo steps up quickly in his place, and cups his hands around his mouth.

“any men wanting to join the hunt please come forward!”

in horror, you and your mother watch as multiple men, young and old, scamper through the crowd to get to the front. you look around and make eye contact with enji, who seemingly was already looking at you. his expression is determined, and you have a bad feeling come over you suddenly. there is a storm coming, and your village was going to be in the dead center of it.

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angel-eclairs · 1 year ago

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Pool Party!

Description- You, Dabi, and Hawks are roommates but soon to become more than that...or not.

Word Count: 995

MHA!Hawks & Dabi x f!reader

Warnings: Choking, begging, degrading, and praising

Release Date:

Old Account - 07-15-2021

This Account - 11-22-2023

Navigation

Masterlist

Ask me a question or for a fanfic.

Submit a post or request.

It’s a hot summer Saturday, you and your roommates are in your backyard pool. You’re watching your roommate Dabi swim while talking to your other roommate Hawks. While you’re talking you feel hawks move his hand onto your thigh. You had always been stuck in a love triangle with both your roommates not knowing which one to choose.

Hawks traces his hand up your thigh and then… Dabi calls him of course nothing got further than that it never has. You never get your chance. You sigh as you come to realization that life just hates you. Hawks and Dabi get done talking and you see Hawks leave to go to the bathroom.

Dabi swims over to you and says “How are you doing today princess” you look at him and say “I’m okay” he comes closer and looks you up and down. He says “That’s good”. You guys are face-to-face and not talking it’s kind of awkward.

As soon as you’re about to turn away, he grabs your face and your waist and pulls you in. You’re face-to-face with him again and he’s leaning in to your face. As soon as your lips are about to meet, Hawks walks out of the house.”

He sees you and Dabi meeting eye to eye like you’re about to kiss. He comes over and gets mad. Him and Dabi start arguing and you don’t know what to do. They’re going at it and you see Dabi make a move like he’s about to hit Hawks and you stop him.

“Both of you stop!!” you yell. They both look at you. “Why don’t you choose princess?” Dabi says. “Yea, which one of us do you want?” says Hawks. Stuck between the two you can’t do anything but say the truth. So you tell them “I can’t stand to see you two fight like this” they both look confused. They start coming towards you “NO!” you yell “Don’t come near me, want me to tell you why” they both look like they wanna know.

You don’t want to expose yourself for the sake of them not fighting. But you hate seeing them fight so much. So, you expose yourself and say “Because I like the both of you as more than friends or roommates” both of them come towards you.

“Finally” Dabi says, “Finally?” you question. “Yes, finally me and him both like you too but we weren’t sure if you felt the same way so we faked it”. You look at them confused “Me, why me” Hawks looks you up and down and says “Do you know how sexy you are?” they both surround you.

Dabi picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. You look at both of them and say “Wait, what are we doing here?”. They look at each other and smile. Hawks looks at you and says “You don’t know how sexy you are so.. we’re gonna show you”

Hawks lifts up your legs and Dabi goes up by your head. They both pull out their dicks, both of them are rock hard just for you.

Hawks pulls down your pants and starts rubbing your clit. “

Hey Dabi, I think our princess is enjoying herself. She’s so wet already.” he smirks.

Dabi smiles and says “Why don’t we all have a lot of fun.” he lifts your head and puts his dick in your mouth. Hawks touching you feels like heaven you can’t help but moan. Even with Dabi’s dick in your mouth you couldn’t help it. Hawks was so good at what he couldn’t. Before you notice you couldn’t help the urge but to cum all over Hawks fingers. At the same time, Dabi squirts his hot cum into your mouth forcing you to swallow it.

They both laugh, Dabi takes his dick out of your mouth and bends down, he grabs your chin and kisses. “Would you like to have some more fun princess?” Dabi says. You were enjoying yourself so of course you say “Yes, I would love to have some more fun.”

Dabi replaces Hawks. Dabi spits on your pussy and rubs your clit.

He puts his dick inside of you, he’s so hard. You feel the his dick on your pussy walls, he’s pumping in and out of you. He’s so deep. Meanwhile, Hawks is sucking on your boobs, and playing with your nipples.

They know exactly the right things to do to pleasure you. Dabi is deepstroking, while Hawks is choking you and sucking your boobs. You’re thinking to yourself how earlier you guys were regular roommates and one thing led to another and here you guys are.

Roommates to lovers, you couldn’t but take back your thought earlier. That life hates you because you’re having the time of your life. Hawks gets up and puts his dick in your mouth, Dabi pussy fucking you. Hawks throat fucking you. It was almost like a dream.

Dabi and Hawks thrust into you at the same and both squirt their hot cum into you. They sit you up and look at you, and say “Did you have fun?” you nod your head yes. “Im kind of tired though” you say. They say “We’re going to get cleaned up, you can rest here.” so you lay down and they leave. When you wake up you find Dabi and Hawks in front of you but… you’re at the pool. Hawks looks at you and says “Look who finally woke up.” he chuckles. Dabi chuckles as well, “What were you dreaming about? You were out for quite a while.”

This moment you thought again “Life hates me.”

-----------------------------------------

The End

I hope you enjoyed! Check my masterlist for more stories or request a fanfic to be written in the ask section about anyone on my masterlist (both linked @the beginning of the story). Much love to you all! <3

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fertilize-my-eggs · 6 months ago

Text

King of decay

New game ch.1

Ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 A03

A/N: since everyone pick king shigaraki in the poll, I couldn't resist making this story asap. I was into this idea for the longest. If you guys enjoy this story please let me know. So this is a dark romantic fantasy theme au where it doesn't follow the mha plot but I'll add characters into this story, I'll post this every Friday if this get popular. ( Not this Friday but the next one. ) anyway I hope y'all enjoy this one. MINOR N ANTIS DNI, IT'S 18+ AND YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

New game

—>press start (click)

Choose a player?

—> Player one (click)

Player two

Will you have a love story or not?

—> yes (click)

Select a difficulty

Easy

Normal

Hard

—> legendary (click)

Are you sure you want to continue?

—>yes (click)

Shigaraki's pov

It's the beginning of my life, I lost my family by accidentally killing them with my bare hands. I met a strange man before the incident, I didn't know much until I was cursed with it, I couldn't touch anything and anyone with these hands.

Blood covered my hands as I sob uncontrollably, I ran away from my village to live in the forest alone.

The days went on as my clothes got dirty and I felt cold, I lay on an old tree as a resting spot.

No one in my village helped me, I was truly alone, I curled into a ball and couldn't stop crying.

Until I hear him, the strange man that brought me home as I look up with tears.

“ Are you lost? ” he had a sincere smile as he put a hand on my head and pull me close.

“ don't worry, I'll take care of you young one.”

“ What's your name? ” he looked into my eyes as I stare in silence.

…

“ tenko shimura..” he has a comfort aura as he smiles softly.

“ tenko… you will be reborn, you don't need your old life from that village. ” I tilt my head in confusion as he pet my hair softly.

“ you will be known as tomura shigaraki as the new~.. come on little one.” and I don't remember much about my childhood but I had everything a kid asked for, a massive bedroom, a feast, so many maids to help me out.

As I grew older into my early adulthood, my old man king Shigaraki made me become a king.

He wished for two things for me, a new heir and to rule the world with a fist.

A new heir?uh I'm not sure about it since I'm cursed with decay. I can't do anything like that but fear of not finding a wife and starting a family is running out of time.

I sit on my throne lazily as my mentor Kurogiri, he was around when Afo brought me into his kingdom when I was a child.

He cleared his throat as he had a princess in line and in hand in marriage as I sighed softly.

None of them catch my attention, they're a bit too rude and entitled little brats that pisses me off.

“ Switch one would you like your highness? ” I roll my eyes as I tilt my head at him then at the women.

“ ehh.. they're not interesting to me. ” Kurogiri bowed his head as he apologized.” I deeply apologize your highness, we'll find more princesses!! ” he politely escorted the women away as they looked neither offended nor annoyed about wasting their time. At least I didn't send them to the dungeon to go rot.

This is wasting my time, I need some fresh air, I told my guards not to worry about me as I'll be taking a long walk.

I head quietly to my master bedroom as I dressed myself in civilian clothes. Baggy black outfit and deep red cloak.

I pull my hood over my long messy white hair as I begin to scroll to the village nearby.

This village is doing a bit better these days, afo was an evil man and so evil that he forced everyone to bow to his knees and give him money. I didn't understand back then how he brainwashed them into thinking he's a good king and made them starve.

I destroyed that man after he was laying in bed after I became king. He didn't say anything, he seemed like he's ready to pass away so I ended his suffering by decaying his face. Putting his ashes into a jar on the shelf never went into his old room afterwards.

I passionately hate him and how he's treating everyone in this kingdom.

I begin to walk into a flea market, looking around as I observe the surroundings.

This village has gotten a lot better, there were people enjoying their own life and gossip as I eavesdropped.

“ Man, that new king seems more intimidating than the last one.”

“ yeah but at least he's a bit helpful by making us have better jobs and- ” I was too distracted by their conversation but I didn't realize a young woman bumped into me, costing me to catch her while she was falling.

My eyes wide in shock, too stunned by what was happening.

You were covered in dirt, covered in rags as you immediately apologized." Oh God!! I'm sorry Mister, I didn't see you coming.” as you're rambling, I wasn't shocked by bumping into you. No no no.. you didn't decay immediately, my hands were on your arms for a second and you didn't get affected by this.

Strange as I thought to myself, could this be my new lover? A person that is immune to this cursed and be alive.

“ it's o-okay.. don't worry about it sweetheart.” I give you a playful wink as I walk away. Who is this woman and I need to make her mine.

Mine and mine only, seeing you blushed even though you had a rough life with dirty old clothes on and hair that hasn't been washed for days.

I couldn't help but find you adorable and remind me a lot like myself when I was young and in the forest once.

I turn my head back as you slowly walk away from people who have jobs selling fruit on the streets.

You definitely peak my interest, I need to follow you.

#shigaraki x chubby reader smut #shigaraki tomura #smut #x reader #chubby reader #fanfic #minors dni #bnha #anime #dark fantasy #fantasy #romance #mha #dead dove fanfics #fantast theme au fanfic #shigaraki

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sp4ceboo · 28 days ago

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SNIPPET FOR MY UPCOMING BAKUGOU FIC!!

genre: merfolk au, fantasy au, merman!bakugou x witch!reader, strangers to lovers, bakugou x f!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: in a world infested with purgers of magic, neither a clandestine witch nor a lone merman can remain safe for long.

tw for snippet: gore, blood, mention of death (fic will be 18+)

UPDATE: READ IT HERE

With a rusty squeal, the door swings wide, and with it comes the same influx of light that always spills greedily through, stinging your eyes and making them ache - the doing of a tiny, wayward star moulded from precious lamp oil. You blink away the tears that well up at your lash line, testament to your accustomation to the dark, and then blink again. Back when you took for granted the warmth of the sun on your face, you lived too far inland to ever see one in the flesh. You were still a witch under the disguise of a healer, though. You’d heard tales, seen artists’ renderings and gorey body parts wrenched off as trophies. None of those could have ever come close to preparing you for the sight before your eyes. A merman. Deep in enemy territory - so deep, in fact, that all those surrounding him, bar you, have murdered more than dozens of his kind each. He is on a galleon rammed bow to stern with killers. And yet, despite it, he has not fallen victim to the purge. Yes, there is a splintered harpoon sunken into his side, yes, he is limp and broken, but even so, shallowly, his chest rises and falls. He breathes. He breathes, and even that is beautiful. The lamp’s light reflects off his scales; he is mainly jet black, but broad swathes of orange run across the length of his powerful tail like they were drawn with the loving stroke of a painter’s brush. In parts, they darken into a ruby red that glitters and winks as the lamp light dances. Or maybe that’s just blood. There’s a lot of it. It soaks into the sheet they strain to carry between them, pools in the dip his weight makes, streaks in smears down his chest and face, coats his hands and is embedded under his sharp nails. You hope that all of it is not his, that he made them regret whatever they must have done to get a merman vulnerable enough and far enough from his pod to capture him. Deep lacerations cut all along his chest and tail, and one of the spines that extend from his sail-like dorsal fin is bent in a way that must mean it is broken. A smattering of scales reach wide across his shoulders and back and down his arms, some of them twisted and bent out of shape. Your eyes fall to the harpoon buried just below his hip, and you feel the bite of your nails digging into your palms. “Heal it,” commands the man holding the corner of the sheet closest to you. “We’ve been ordered to bring back a merfolk to be studied. It must be in peak condition.”

and yeah. so that's what i've been working on recently, it will be over 10k and most likely under 20k and im sO EXCITED!!

there will be a taglist, so if you want to be on it just reply to this post or message me or whatever is easiest :))

praying this reaches the right audience

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ssplague · 2 years ago

Text

Warnings ⛔️ Soulmates, Vampire AU, Smut, supernatural pregnancy, angst, violence, great bodily injury, blood, attempted SA (not detailed), feticide, radicalized religion, ye old time Misogyny, death.

This is the continuation (2/3) of Save a prayer 🙏🏽

Honorable Mentions:

@viridianheroics @maggiecc

🫀 🔥 ❤️‍🔥

The very first time Katsuki had intended to have you for dinner was four hundred years before you two reunite. He had been watching your little cottage outside of town for weeks, he studied your routine, noticed you lived alone and how many visitors you had on average. You were a vision to the hungry vampire, your beauty made both his fangs and loins ache with desire. So much so that he peeked into your bedroom more than once, watching you in your most intimate moments. He decided to have some fun with you before ending your life, which wasn’t something he often even considered doing with prey.

Faking an injury, he limped up the path approaching your home as the sun was setting. You’d just returned from town when you noticed him, and your eyes shine with worry, “Sir, do you need some help? Are you alright?!”.

Katsuki turned on the charm for you, and even with you normally being impossible to sway, he had you internally swooning. When your hands fly up to touch your burning cheeks, the supernatural male realizes he may have over done it a bit. Considering he wasn’t faking his interest in you, it had been a bit easy for him to do so. Regardless, you pull him along the pathway, eager to get him inside your house “its warmer in here, I’ll make some tea and we can sit infront of the fire”. Over an hour had passed and the two of you had already discussed a wide array of topics. The smile he wore was genuine when you would stifle a giggle and lightly slap at his arm when he said something vulgar or mean spirited. Just as you had slightly shifted closer towards him, a knock came from the front door. You immediately looked uneasy as it came again, and Katsuki’s hand came to rest over your’s, “What’s wrong?”. “The preachers son has been coming around in the evenings to see me…I believe he intends to begin courting me…” you whispered, finding yourself moving even closer to the man beside you “I don’t like him Katsuki, I’ve never even given him any sort of attention before…The people in the village keep trying to push me into a courtship, no one will listen to how I feel…They just dismiss my refusal, claiming that it’s normal to have doubts”.

The thought of some man forcing his unwanted presence inside of your house made Bakugou mad. The sadness and fear in your eyes brought some strange protective side of the angry vampire out. Hearing the knocking become more insistent, it’s without thinking he takes your little hands between his much larger ones. If you were suprised by the slight chill of his skin you made no fuss, only stared up at him with something akin to both hope and a slight tint of something else….”What if I answer the door, and when he asks for you, I will inform him that your late parents and mine had an agreement that betrothed us, and I have finally come to claim you after the two of us had lost touch during the time I spent working over seas”he was suprised that something made up on a whim could sound so serious.

“That’s a wonderful idea! Especially with my parents being unable to confirm or deny this! Please do it, I’d be ever so grateful” your hands grow warmer in his icy ones, and that warmth begins to creep up his arms and sink into his chest. The vampire instantly regretting letting you go for even a second as he gets up. Once his back is to you his frown is switched out for a truly menacing expression. Katsuki swings the door open and the man outside has his fist in the air to continue his assault on the wood. “May I help you?” the ice in immortals tone has the smaller man flinching. Though the creep is quick to recover and immediately begins sizing the handsome stranger in the doorway up, (despite being incredibly small in stature himself) “I’m here to see Ms.L/N, who exactly are you?”. “Who I am is none of your business, and you won’t be seeing her this evening, we aren’t taking visitors” Katsuki says dismissively, attempting to shut the door, only to have the smaller man try to grab ahold of it and keep it open. “Why are you speaking for her? You are-“ “Y/N is my betrothed, and has been for years, I’m speaking for her because I am her soon to be husband, it is not appropriate for an unmarried man to be coming round visiting a woman in the evening, especially without invitation, so don’t bother returning, good night!” Katsuki yanks the door shut, the preacher’s son barely able to let go before his fingers were slammed in it.

You descended upon Bakugou soon as he locked the door and turned around. You two stayed quiet for a moment before the male you were hugging gave a nod that the coast was clear. You looked like you were about to burst with excitement, “I think it worked! Thank you so much for getting rid of him!”. Gods you were too sweet, and so beautiful as your eyes sparkled with gratitude. Katsuki allows you to lead him back towards where you’d previously sat in front of the fire, albeit much closer together this time. “So um…he’s rather persistent if you hadn’t noticed” you begin, with nervousness evident in your slight fidgeting. “I noticed” sneers your companion, pulling you further against his side. You feel your cheeks warming up and your heart begins to thump rapidly beneath your bosom, forcing yourself to continue, “So what I was meaning to say was…he will probably check back up and see if you’re still with me sporadically throughout the next few weeks…so I was just wondering if you weren’t in a hurry to get somewhere…I’d enjoy your company for however long you’d agree to stick around…”.

You were supposed to be his dinner, and now he’s playing the role of your soon to be husband. “Hmmm I suppose I can stick around…but what will I get out of this arrangement?” The handsome devil is certainly playing his part as he smirks back at your wide doe eyes and parted lips. “I don’t have a lot of money…but I could part with some if that’s what you wish-“ you gasp as you find yourself on your back, staring up into the captivating crimson eyes of your guest. “Nah I’m not after your money princess, what I desire from you is just something as simple as a cure of my loneliness” a cold calloused finger plays with your bottom lip, and you lay there wide eyed and clueless “If I agree to your proposition, then for the entire duration of my stay I want you to act like my wife, you’re to preform all the womanly duties carried out by an adoring wife to please her beloved husband, do we have a deal then?”. You turn your head to the side to contemplate your decision, only to have him tsk at you “Look at your husband when he’s talking to you beautiful”.

So what if he might have had to use his power of persuasion a bit here, couldn’t risk you possibly denying him.

When you look back up at him your eyes immediately lock with his own. His eyes are such a vibrant crimson it’s almost like they’re glowing as the draw you in further, until they are all you can see, “Y-Yes, we have a deal”. Then it’s over and you shake your head a bit, must have been a trick of the fire light, since you must have extinguished all the lamps earlier during your uninvited guests appearance. “Good, now come here so I can hold you properly”.

The first week you’d spent having Katsuki in your home was a strange one, strange but good. Sometimes he would take off for most of the day, and you would go about your usual routine. At night when he would return, you’d welcome him home, and the two of you would sit at your rickety little table and have dinner together. One of those dinners he brought out a bottle of wine and asked you to have a drink with him. You tried to turn him down stating you didn’t drink, but somehow you find yourself with a half full glass infront of the fireplace once more. Only this time you are in a much more intimate position, your seated between his legs with your back to his chest. The wine has you feeling warm and a bit drowsy, so much so that the kiss pressed to the back of your neck doesn’t even startle you. “Kat…Suki” you mumbled before you fell asleep, head resting on his shoulder.

Since that time, you had gotten more comfortable with physical contact between you and your guest. When you would cook he more often than not would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, always kissing your neck so sweetly as he did so. Two weeks had passed since the preacher’s son had last come calling (You had eventually mentioned the idiots name, Mineta). Earlier that afternoon a friend of yours had invited you to pick apples from their orchard, and you had agreed, promising Katsuki you would make him the best apple pie he’s ever had when you returned. For once it was you that surprised him with a quick peck on the cheek and a nervous “I’ll be back soon my beloved husband”.

The blonde was stuck in the spot you’d left him in over an hour later, his hand over the warm spot you’d left on his cheek. Trying to deny the accusatory voice inside his head that claimed he saw you as more than a meal or a conquest, until a loud knock interrupted his thought process. Already aware who’d be standing outside, he stormed over to the door and throws it open with a frightening scowl on his handsome face. “Oh, you’re still here are you?” Mineta sneered as he took a step back. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be? This is the house of my intended, what brings you out here to visit us again?” Bakugou uses his much larger body to block the annoying young man’s view as he tries to look past him. “No one has seen y/n in town recently, so I just thought I’d check in-“ Katsuki interrupts the twerp “Correction; YOU haven’t seen her, we went into town just yesterday, Now correct me if I’m wrong but you sure do seem to have an interest in my soon to be wife, shouldn’t you be taking your vow of abstinence soon? If you plan on being a proper man of god that is”. “How dare you insinuate something so-“ Mineta tries to defend himself but Katsuki is quick to shut him down; “Stay away from my woman, she’s taken, or are you too stupid to understand what that means?” “Now see here, you just show up out of the blue one evening claiming that her parents planned on marrying her off without any proof of it…I’m merely looking after my father’s flock, as they will be under my protection one day so it’s only normal for me to look into any situations I think have inkling of some sort of supernatural dabbling or rather unholy air about them” Mineta sniffs as he smirks at the angry “man” infront of him “Miss y/n has such a pretty neck, would be a shame if it was to remain unprotected wouldn’t it?”.

The sound of your name was enough to make Katsuki keep his anger in check, and he couldn’t help but laugh at Mineta’s attempt at a threat. “It’s a good thing she has me here with her then isn’t it?” Without waiting for a response he shuts the door, laughing loudly as he left a scandalized Mineta staring slack jawed at it.

“I’m back!” You called out as you hung up your coat and removed your shoes. The heavy basket on your hip filled with apples but a couple extra things on top of it. “Welcome home my dearest, you were later than I’d imagined…I was about to go out looking for you” Katsuki appears in the doorway of the kitchen, allowing you to slip past him. “I’m sorry to worry you, MoMo and Ochako invited me to prepare pies with them! I think it was just so they could question me about the handsome man who accompanied me to the market yesterday…When I mentioned being “engaged” they almost lost it, MoMo sent me home with a bottle of her father’s apple wine as a present!”. You stopped unpacking your basket after making a sudden realization, “You made dinner for us? Oh Katsuki you didn’t have to-“.

“I wanted to give you the night off since you were out with your friends, i assure you it wasn’t that big a deal my love” Your face heated up at that last part, you were quick to set about putting your already prepared pies in the oven. Afterwards you allowed Katsuki to pull out your chair at the kitchen table, pushing it in before taking a seat himself. You noticed he already had poured each of you a glass of the gifted wine, and as he raised his own you were quick to mimic his action. “To us” he said simply, giving you that devilish smirk that made you feel all sorts of ways you shouldn’t. “T-Too us” you simper, raising the glass to your lips. After taking a bite of the meal Katsuki had prepared you stared at him wide eyed, “This might be the best thing Ive tasted in my entire life!”. The rest of the meal went on in a similar manner, you continuously complementing the smug man’s cooking longer after he had finished. Regardless, he waited for you patiently to be done, unable to take his eyes off of you as he sipped at the wine in his glass.

Once the kitchen was cleaned and the pie had been removed from the oven, you set it on the cooling rack and began to fidget nervously upon realizing all your night time chores were done. “Come sit with me beautiful” Katsuki called to you from the usual spot the two of you occupied on the plush living room rug. “I was thinking about heading to bed early tonight…if you’d like to come join me” you say over your shoulder as you head towards the bedroom. Having been on this earth long enough to recognize what that meant, the vampire was on his feet in an instant. You’d just began to undress as he entered the room, watching with hunger as your dress fell to the floor. Once you had everything off, you shyly turned back towards him and he was infront of you in the blink of an eye. Allowing him to pull you forward against his hard body, the feeling of his cold hands was soothing across your warm skin. You feel your back meet the old worn blankets of your bed, you tried your best to remain calm as you feel his tongue slip past your lips. Soon you were copying his actions, a burning need starting to build between your legs as you felt his manhood slipping across your sticky lower lips. “I-I’ve never done this before” you manage to stutter out. The man above you replied with a gentle hum, he figured as much, “Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to-“ “No I want to give myself to you, I want you to be the one…I want to be able to remember this night long after you’ve moved on and left me…” your words have you feeling choked up, the thought of him leaving you eventually, has now become a painful one. Seeing your eyes filled with tears is what finally makes the cold undead monster accept the fact that he truly had fallen in love. You were without question his destined one, the only person capable of stirring up these feelings inside of him. “What if I want to stay here with you? What if I asked you to really become my wife? The only woman I’ll ever want, the only woman I could ever truly love?” Those words felt so foreign on his tongue, but seeing the happiness in your eyes and having your arms wrap around him in the tightest of hugs, had him happy to have said them.

“Then I would say please make love to me, and how much I love and adore you, my future husband”

Katsuki made sure to keep a level head once the tip of his cock breeched your virgin cunt. The tight heat of your internal walls and the sound of your pained whimpers was almost proving to be too much for him. “Can I move now angel? Are you ready for what’s to come?” The strain in his voice is evident and you cling tighter to your lover as you encourage him to continue. It took a bit to get used to the continuous intrusion and withdrawal of his hardness but after some time had passed the good feelings began to come. “Oh Katsuki, ohhh god I’ve never felt like this before, please give me more I want to feel all of you” you cry as your nails scrape at the skin of his back. Allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of being inside of you, he can do nothing but comply to your request. The once shallow thrust of his hips become deeper as the pace becomes to quicken. Feeling you tightening up around him and hearing your begging has his own orgasm overcoming him, “Come with me angel, I wanna feel you let go while I fill up your tight little cunt…that’s it there you go baby, take it fucking take all of it…fuck!”.

You let out the most content of sighs at the feeling of his seed pouring into your womb. Over come by the bliss of your first ever orgasm, you kiss Katsuki again, playfully sucking on his tongue. After a few moments of silence he feels you shifting beneath him, lifting his head up he’s surprised to see the serious look you’re giving him. “I meant what I said, I know I’m in love with you…but I need you to tell me the truth, what was the real reason you came here? Your answer won’t change the way I feel, you’ll still have a place here with me, but if I’m to truly give you all of my love then there can’t be any lies between us”. The empty feeling as he pulls out of you is an obvious shared one, because you find yourself being pulled against his chest as soon as you had begun to scoot towards the man you love. Katsuki feels his frozen heart grow heavy with fear at you not accepting him or his love for you. Expecting to be forced from your bed as soon as he utters his confession. Yet your reaction comes In a surprising manner, one he’ll eventually come to expect from you in the future. “Oh….well don’t you need to you know…drink some of my blood?”. So he does.

The sensuality of the action leads to you begging to once again to make love, and you do until the sun comes up. He doesn’t let you leave the bed when you finally wake up, and the two of you take turns feeding each other apple pie afterwards. The new found domesticity in his once tumultuous life has the vampire relaxing into it with surprising ease. It most likely stemmed from the continuous outpouring of your love and the eager ways you displayed your affections. He’d met the townsfolk and friends you’d spoken so highly of. The same people who attended the marriage ceremony, had even come together to throw you two a celebratory banquet and toasted to your lengthy and loving union. The daily routine you’d developed now as newly weds didn’t differ much from what it had been before. With the exception of Katsuki venturing out more, helping the townsfolk do various odd jobs with which they’d require either his muscle or wide array of skills to get completed easier.

On nights he returned home late, you’d often be waiting up for him in bed, naked as the day you were born and wanting something you still became flustered to ask for. It was only after you’d spent one full year of your lives together when you began waking up feeling ill and much too tired to leave home as often anymore. After coming to visit you one morning, MoMo had returned that afternoon with the town’s doctor. One check up told him all he needed to know, and you nearly fainted after he spoke “Congratulations Mrs.Bakugou, it seems you’re with child”.

You let Momo talk your ear off with excitement as she helped you prepare dinner. Your hand resting upon your stomach after giving her a hug and bidding her goodbye. You tried to calm your nerves as you awaited your husband’s arrival back home. The knowing smile MoMo gave Katsuki as she bid him hello when they met on the road, seemed to freak the man out and afterwards he rushed home. The two of you ate dinner in mostly silence that evening, and once you were finished your lover has no objections as you pull him towards the fireplace. Once settled in his tight hold, you told him what the doctor had said earlier. The joy you’d expected from your partner was replaced with a look of bewildered confusion, “H-How? That shouldn’t be possible! Are you sure?!”.

You begin to shrink in on yourself, already beginning to picture a future of you and your baby alone. In his surprise the vampire had allowed his grip to go slack, this made it easy for you to move away from him and get to your feet. He looked up at you, but the faraway look in his gaze made it appear as if he was looking through you. Rather than continue standing there and looking foolish, you fled to the bedroom. Once the door shut behind you, you finally began to cry. Curling up on your now shared bed, you sobbed your heart out. He’s going to leave now, I’ll have to do this alone.

Meanwhile in the living room, Bakugou was still sitting gobsmacked in-front of the fireplace. Pregnant? But how? It just couldn’t be! He’d been positive the ability to impregnate someone had been lost with his humanity. Granted, it’s not as though any human he’d taken to bed in the past lived to tell the tale. You’d looked so excited to inform him of this new development, and now… The thought of your eyes losing the sparkle that accompanied your excitement, your lips trembling as you tried not to cry. “Dammit!” He hissed in frustration, realizing you’d left him alone in here awhile ago.

The bedroom door creaked quietly as Katsuki peeked In, you weren’t moving in your fetal position on the bed. Your even breathing was picked up by his heightened sense of hearing. You must have cried yourself to sleep…Silently he approaches the bed, leaning down to place a single kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back, I promise”. If you had been awake you’d have seen the shadows in the bedroom elongate and seemingly absorb Katsuki inside of them.

Appearing inside of a well worn house just as far out in the woods as your own, Katsuki glanced around the living room. Deciding he wasn’t about to go hunting around for the owner of the home, the blonde takes a deep breath, only to immediately bellow “Where are you? You damn DEKU!”. A commotion comes from behind one of the two doors off the living room’s hallway, a few more bumps could be heard, another loud yelp afterwards. The door opened just as the vampire was about to start cursing, “O-Oh hey th-there kaachan! What brings you-“ stutters the green haired man as he tries to stifle a yawn. “What took so long were you asleep or some shit?” Katsuki questions raising an eyebrow, but before the other male can reply he continues, “Cause if you were I don’t care, I need to ask your opinion on something”.

Seeing the way Deku’s face lit up at that Katsuki sneers at him, “Not that it’s worth anything I just…I don’t want to fuck this up”. Izuku starts the fire back up in the grate as he sits on his sofa, ready for his old friend to begin his explanation. “You got married and didn’t even bother sending me an invitation? Not even an announcement? That’s hurtful Kaachan…I thought we were past all th-“ Izuku’s chastising is cut short by Bakugou’s temper flaring up “THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY AFTER MY ENTIRE EXPLANATION?!?!”. Then it dawned on the other man, Izuku may be petty, but there was a much bigger problem to deal with than that. “Did you say your lover is…pregnant? It can’t possibly be YOUR baby Kaachan, she must be lying or-“ “Don’t you dare say another bad word about y/n! I know that baby is mine, there is no way it could be anyone else’s! She’s never been with anyone other than me and I know that for a fact” Katsuki spat, red eyes narrowed at the other immortal man.

Izuku gets up, muttering as he grabs a candlestick, lighting it then entering the previously closed door. Before the angry vampire can start his rant, his companion returns with a few different books in his hands. Spreading out the large tombs infront of the fire he begins to pour over the various dog eared pages. Katsuki had sat quiet, letting the damn nerd do his research and hoping he’ll have an explanation to give him as hours fly past. The sun would rise soon, he knows that you waking up alone would only worsen the pain he’d caused you last night. “I need to get back to her, so-“ Katsuki is interrupted by Izuku “Take that orange gemstone so I can find or signal you, the one on my nightstand that you refused to take last time I-“. “Got it, look, I know it’s annoying to do this but if you do figure this out then….I guess you can come to dinner or something, to meet y/n! Not as a thank you or some simp shit like that” The blonde refuses to meet the ecstatic green eyes that began to sparkle with happiness. “I’m going to hold you to that Kaachan” “Tch, of course you Fuckin’ are…nerd!”.

Sneaking back into the bedroom, the nervous vampire sheds his clothes before sliding into bed behind you. He’s gentle when his arms wrap around you, his larger hand coming to rest over your’s laying protectively atop your belly. “I love you and whatever you got growing in there….I couldn’t leave you guys even if you asked me to” he whispers, squeezing your soft body and finally allowing himself to relax. For the first time in a long time he dreamt of his mortal life; Being a carefree child, living with his loud mom, and quiet dad.

It took a couple days of constant reassurance, but you soon began believing Katsuki when he said he wasn’t planning on abandoning you or the baby. Izuku had yet to contact him, and it made the vampire anxious. After completing some work in town for the day, Katsuki began to feel a familiar hunger in his gut…How could this work if you were now carrying a baby? It needed all your nutrients, but still Katsuki wouldn’t be satisfied with anything other than your blood. He’d make sure you ate a bigger dinner than usual tonight to hopefully replenish what he takes from you later on.

☁️🌒☁️

The moon shifted behind the clouds as Mineta makes his way out of town and through the woods. He’s a coward at heart, every little sound of leaves rustling or twigs snapping has him jumping or running. Finally he sees your cabin up ahead, and he tip toes stealthily up the path. As he gets closer the sounds that reach his ears are something better than any fantasy he could imagine. Peering through the gap in the blinds he sees you spread out infront of your fireplace. If only you were alone… Of course you were getting pounded by that damn Bakugou, or that’s what it seemed like…Hold on what is he-? The peeping Tom stifles a gasp as he takes in the scene behind the glass. He’s careful as he slowly walks back the way he came, a look of absolute terror on his face.

A vampire! You married one of those undead demons of hell, not only that but you let him ravage, defile you, and calmly lay there allowing him to drink your blood? Surely you could see reason and repent for all this wrong that you’d been coheresed into participating in. Mineta knew it was his personal duty to bring you back into the light, and assist you in casting out that hellspawn. This task was up to him alone, he wouldn’t tell anyone! You would become his wife afterwards, lest he threaten to tell the entire town you’d laid with a demon, a hit your reputation would never recover from, you’d be exiled from society. The perverse mind of the preacher’s son began fashioning the most absurd of tales that made him out to be heroic and magnificent; Busting into your home and saving your life but as for your unfortunate coward of a husband…he will have taken his own life after selling you off to a demon. Surely the townsfolk and his father would praise him for such noble acts of bravery for years to come!

🪵🔥

“I didnt take too much did I? Are you sure you don’t want to wait and finish this up tomorrow” the fretful voice of your husband asks as he hovers over you. Katsuki was hesitant to continue making love to you after he’d had his fill of your blood. You appreciated the concern, but right now you felt quite lively, and something inside of you wanted sex now more than ever. So imagine the surprise of your lover, when you sat up quickly and shoved him down on the rug in your place. Not giving the vampire a chance to recover as you began to lower yourself down on his length, hissing softly at the familiar stretch. No time was wasted once you had him buried inside your cunt, you began to bounce yourself up and down repeatedly. “I don’t need you to be gentle and doting right now, I need this!” You shamelessly exclaim, throwing your head back and moaning loudly as you continue riding your lover enthusiastically. Katsuki could only lay there and stare at you in wide eyed fascination. His adorable shy little wife was the one fucking him? This can’t be right, who are you and what had you done with y/n? Then a thought occurred to him, could this be a side effect of human pregnancy? The vampire had been learning by trial and error when it came to both bodily and hormonal changes being experienced by his pregnant wife.

As the months begin to progress, Katsuki began to notice you growing pale and increasingly more exhausted. It scared him one day when you’d slept over twelve hours straight. With no word still from that damn Deku, the irritable immortal decided to take things into his own hands. You probably wouldn’t appreciate just drinking blood outright, but the little leech inside of you needed it, and it would continue taking yours if it didn’t get the sustenance it required. Soon it was your husband who prepared all the food you ate, and slowly but surely you regained your color, energy, and started gaining weight. When the doctor came for your six month check up, he’d ruled both mother and child to be healthy. When he mentioned how quickly the baby was developing, you’d mentioned the father’s family’s good genes being to thank.

After showing the physician out, Katsuki was about to serve you dinner, only for a frantic knocking to interrupt this. Resting a hand on your shoulder to make sure you stayed seated at your rickety kitchen table, the angry blonde stomps out to shoo this unwanted visitor away. As soon as he opens the door however, the sight of his old friend standing there with a shit eating grin on his freckled face, only makes the vampire’s teeth clench and eyes narrow. “I believe you invited me over for dinner Kaachan” Izuku’s smile widening as he continues “Arent you going to invite me inside? It’s chilly out here”. “My love, who is it?” You call out, waddling slowly from the kitchen only to spot the newcomer and freeze. No longer waiting for an invitation, the guest side steps Katsuki and strides towards you. “Hello! My name is Izuku Midoryia, and you must be y/n! Kaachan and I have been best friends since we were children, im so happy to finally be meeting you!” The green haired male moves to hug you but stops short, blushing furiously as he reigns himself in. Only to be surprised by you moving the rest of the way to try your best at hugging, despite your baby bump lightly poking at him.

“How far along are you? If you don’t mind me asking?! Oh and Congratulations!” Izuku stammers, nervous he will invoke the wrath of an angry Kaachan. “Six months! And thank you! I’m glad you finally came to see us, Katsuki had mentioned you once but refused to tell me anymore about you or anyone else in his life for that matter” you chirp happily, letting the aforementioned male steer you back into the kitchen “Let me grab you a chair! The other two are in the closet-“. Before your guest can refuse you over exerting yourself, Katsuki makes sure you sit down and pushes your chair in. Then he leaves the room and reappears immediately, huffing angrily as he shoves the chair into Deku with more force than necessary.

You and Izuku chat animatedly as Katsuki brings the dishes full of food to the table. Grabbing an extra set of silverware, glass, and plate for the green eyed idiot, who promptly thanks him. Katsuki loads your plate up ridiculously full and kisses your forehead as you thank him for cooking yet again. Always the observant one, Izuku noticed that the food on your plate had been purposely separated from the rest of the meal laid out on the table. As he served himself he smiled at the realization that his friend had figured something so important out on his own. The deliciousness of this meal was not to be wasted on the pregnant female, or the green haired know it all. Katsuki drained half a bottle of spirits to put up with the non stop praise from the two of them.

The trio moved to the living room, getting comfortable on the worn out furniture and continuing to make conversation late into the evening. Katsuki noticed your eyes growing heavy, despite your protests he scoops you up and takes you to the shared bedroom. “Good night Izuku! See you next week at the same time, right?” You shouted over your lover’s shoulder. “Most definitely, sweet dreams y/n-Chan & baby!” Deku replied, still smiling as he stayed put on the sofa. Staring into the fireplace the flames dancing around inside his green eyes, the cheerful disposition you’d left him with began to dissipate the longer he waited. This conversation was going to be as dreadful as it was difficult, a serious choice needed to be made. A choice that would end your life either way it was decided, but it had to be done. You were too far along for any sort of pregnancy termination, the alchemist had spent an extra month trying to find some sort of extraction method but at six months there was nothing more that could be done.

Ever the doting husband; Katsuki helps you strip down and ensures the room will stay warm enough, courtesy of the new wood stove he’d acquired. Since your tummy began to grow you’d taken to sleeping in just your panties, now the room was always comfortable in temperature for you both. “I need to talk to Deku some before he goes, I’ll come lay down with you afterwards” your lover says, kissing your lips and pressing another to your stomach before he leaves the room. Sleep came easily to you that night.

The two men sat side by side on the sofa, the room around them growing ever darker as the lamps had been extinguished. The dwindling fire had been reduced to embers by the time the green haired male finishes filling in the other on the research he’d done. The pitch black surrounding them was a perfect representation of their conversation, and overall disposition. The blonde hid his face in his hands halfway through the other’s explanation. His friend waited for the other to speak, calmly allowing the much needed moment of silence. Izuku knew Katsuki was coming to terms with what had to be done, this would weigh heavily on his conscience for years to come. Either way the love of the vampire’s life was doomed, the choices were essentially the same. That being said, they were also drastically different….It had to be your choice, and when the time comes hopefully your husband would honor your wishes.

“The doctor in the village obviously can’t deliver the baby…So wha-“ one immortal talks over the other, saying; “If you will agree to it, I will assist you with the birth”. Sighing heavily the father to be comes to an agreement with the man seated beside him. “Well I’ll get out of your hair now, good night Kaachan” Izuku says quietly as he begins casting the spell that will return him to his own residence. “Y/n’s looking forward to seeing you again so you better show up” the threatening implication evident from the always aggressive one. “I wouldnt dream of missing it, see you then” as soon as Izuku says this he disappears. Katsuki sighs heavily, now left alone with his thoughts he begins to tremble and tug at his hair. Knowing you were the only cure for this pain he was experiencing, has the vampire hurrying into your shared room. After stripping down and sliding into bed, he pulls you close. Sleep eluded him that night.

“Katsuki…what’s wrong?”you asked him after dinner one evening, “Ever since Izuku came by you’ve been acting different”. The words of his dearest of course rang true; Katsuki had been in a constant state of complacency since the alchemist’s departure. His self loathing had reached an all time high, how could he have possibly done this to you? No matter how badly he felt he could never fully bring himself to regret ever catching sight of you that first time. The creature that is supposedly cruel to the core and incapable of feeling love, or any emotion for that matter, had proved centuries of lore to be a lie. The sad part about it was that you would be the one to pay the ultimate price. “Katsuki”

You weren’t about to let him keep this from you anymore, he had to tell you. Allowing yourself to be lead to the same spot you and him had occupied that first night you’d met, you sat down and watched him pull the drapes closed and extinguish the kerosene lamps. When he finally came to rest by your side, you couldn’t help noticing the grave expression and pain in his crimson eyes. “This is going to be hard for you to hear, and it sure as fuck is hard for me to say…so please don’t interrupt me until I’m done explaining” he begs, hands gripping your’s tightly. You nod and he swallows thickly, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding your body close to his so gently it’s as if he thinks you might break.

“A child being conceived between a human and vampire is incredibly rare…It’s also extremely dangerous, if the child isn’t given the required amount of sustenance than it will begin to feed on the life source of its mother…Which can be depleted in a matter of days, I figured that out when you began getting pale and could barely get out of bed so that’s not the issue we’re currently facing” Katsuki pauses, his hold tightened around you as he forces himself to get through this, “I had Deku researching this topic and it took him over a month to track down anything, what he found wasn’t exactly great…”. Another pause, he remained quiet for so long you turned your head to look up at his face, what you saw was surprising but before you could mention it he started speaking shakily, despite the tremors and tears leaking down his face. “The birth of our child will kill you, and the only way to save you would be for you to become like me…Either way you won’t be a normal human again, I-I’m so sorry y/n, for not just coming in and ruining your life, but now it’s my fault it’s going to be ending now too, and I-“ you silence him with a kiss, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tightly. “I dont care about that, I care about you and the new life we’ve miraculously created, I want us three to be a family, I want to spend forever by your side Katsuki” You begin to cry too but not from the thought of losing your life, “Please don’t let me miss out on our child’s life because you think it’s wrong to change me, to me that change doesn’t warrant death, it’s the promise of a new and happy life “.

He tried to argue with you, tried to get you to tell him how awful and selfish he’s been, but you wouldn’t. By the time the two of you lay together in bed that night everything was calm, you’d both decided that your baby would grow up with both parents to help nurture and guide it. “Katsuki?” “Yes Princess?” “Um..is there a chance that I could become pregnant again after our first baby is born?” You avert your eyes from his, nervous as to how he will feel about you possibly hinting at carrying more half vampire babies. “There will always be a possibility for the rest of your undead life…. But you don’t sound too upset about it” Katsuki replied, smirking as he takes the chance to give you a hard time “Do you want more little leeches running around? Or you just want me to breed you hm? Is that it?”. When you don’t respond he chuckles, “Good night my love”.

With the birth of your child a mere week away the village women had gathered at your home to throw you a baby shower. Your husband was busier than ever since he was going to take a month off from working all his various odd jobs, and fortunately everyone in the surrounding area had made the most of this. So money wasn’t going to be a worry as the two of you adjusted to life with a newborn. The final job had been raising Ezikel’s new barn and it was well after dark by the time the soon to be father was heading home. Bakugou’s head was filled with thoughts of you and his child, he was happy and actually smiling as he walked.

Then all of the sudden, he wasn’t.

The vampire’s hand clawed at his chest as this sudden burst of searing pain began in his long still heart. It was so bad he nearly collapsed, and it didn’t stop, it only intensified. Something had to of happened to you or the baby and upon realizing that, Katsuki’s running at an inhuman pace through the forest.

Please let them be okay, just hold on until I get there!

The door of the house was wide open and the sign of a struggle was evident. Distressed cries coming from the bedroom alerted him to where you are. He was in the bedroom doorway in an instant and white got fury burned him from the inside out at what he saw.

With a rage and strength unimaginable by a mere mortal, the furious vampire ripped the preacher’s son away from you and threw him from the room. Dazed by the force he hit the ground with, Mineta is slow to sit up and attempt to blink the world back into focus. Only for a snarl that would befit a beast from the depths of hell to bring the man back to earth. Grabbing the crucifix around his neck the purple haired rat began to scoot himself backwards. “Stay away from me you demon! Unclean beast!”. Attempting to flee from the advancing blonde monster, whose eyes glowed like the flames of hellfire itself. Without a word Bakugou lunges forward, Mineta shrieks as he throws his body to the side, knocking over a table that held a kerosene lamp atop it.

Katsuki grabs ahold of his prey, instantly crushing the terrified man’s windpipe. He keeps gripping the mortals throat until his face matches his hair and his eyes shut. “Don’t worry, you’re just going to take a little nap, and once you are awake I’m going to drag out your death and torture you all night you disgusting piece of shit” the blonde sneers as he scowls down at the unconscious Mineta.

“K-Ka-Katsuki!”

The terrified shout from his wife snaps Bakugou from his predatory state of mind. That’s when he realizes that half of their home has been set alight, the fire was spreading, it’s flames growing rapidly in height. In an instant he was back at your side, carefully picking you up, making sure to wrap your blanket around you as the two of you fled outside. Now a safe distance away from the flames, but the sight of your Home burning still in your shared line of sight. “Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, as soon as I sensed you were in trouble I came…I can’t believe this happened, are you-“ A familiar scent reaches his nose, and the feel of wet fabric beneath his shaking palms has crimson eyes growing wide in terror. Peeling the blanket back, his worst nightmares were brought to life. Your clothes were soaked with blood, and the slice in the material showed the deep stab in your stomach. “Kat…Suki I don’t have much time” “Y/N! No don’t say that! Dammit why didn’t you say anything!” Katsuki shouts, but not out of anger it’s pure despair that sounds beneath his normally harsh baritone. “I cant feel…can’t feel our baby anymore…” a choked sob racks your entire body “It’s gone, before they even had a chance to be…Listen to me please Katsuki, my greatest and only love”. Your shaking hands grip each of his cheeks as you struggle to keep your eyes open, “Im sorry to have to leave you alone again…but please don’t give up on me, I’ll be reborn one day, and I don’t know how long it will take, who I will be, or where on earth I will reside, but please look for me, find me again, even if I resist you at first, make sure we’ll never have to suffer like this again, make sure that we’ll truly be together forever next time, promise me?”.

“I promise”

With the last of your strength you force your head up and kiss the only entity in this world that you vow to ever love. You’re both crying once your grip on him goes slack, “I love you Katsuki, please remember what you promised me, don’t give up-“. The blood from your hands left smudges on his cheeks, but the trails of blood pouring down his face come from his tears. “Y/N?” He croaked, you didnt finish speaking, your eyes remained shut. “Y/N?!” The roof of your home caves in as the fire enveloped the entirety of the structure. In the midst of the chaos a figure appears, emerald eyes widen in a panic as they began to take in their surroundings. Before Izuku can call out for either of you the most heartbreaking wail assaults his ear drums. Whirling around the sight that greets the alchemists has hot coals of dread piling in his gut, “K-Kaachan!”.

His best friend was hunched over someone, clutching their face and it seemed like he was trying to wake them. “Let me see her! I can help, I brought my things with me!” Izuku exclaimed as he rushed over and kneeled beside the two of you. “She’s gone, They both are…There is nothing to be done, my love and my child are dead…” the blonde immortal stuttered, leaving his friend shocked. “How could this have happened?! What-“ before he can ask any more questions, Katsuki snarls with a vitriol that not even Deku has bore witness to “That fucking preachers son! He’s lucky he burned in the fire, I would have flayed him alive!”. Placing you on the ground with the utmost care, the grieving immortal lifts his head to the darkened sky and screams; “FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!”. His hands tangle and tug at his blonde locks, he didn’t care how deranged he might look in this moment. There was a hollowed feeling inside of his chest, the searing pain only worsening in both his heart and head.

Izuku could only watch Katsuki’s tirade in silence, he patted your hand gently as tears brimmed behind his eyes. You were a kind, loving, woman that had her whole life ahead of her…Only to have it stolen by a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Hearing the vampire’s broken sobs and screams as he mourns the love of his life, the alchemist can no longer ignore the revelations that will stick with him for the remainder of his immortal life. So rather than banishing the thoughts, he lets them echo freely, the barely there breeze carrying the words off into the night:

The true monsters of this world are those that walk undetected among us; With evil souls hidden behind smiles, deranged thoughts drowned out by laughter, bloodied hands appearing spotless as they reach out to those around them. Their next victim may be innocent, perhaps a bit too trusting, or just unwise to the stalking devil waiting for the right moment to strike.

The townsfolk will forever remain clueless of the tragic events that transpired on that fateful night. Regardless; They all mourned the loss of the little family that never came to be complete, and though the three of them were lost, the fond memories, and relationships each of them had built with the two young lovers remained alive within the living’s hearts and minds. Only to finally be laid to rest when the last of those who knew them personally, had died.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I’m proud of myself for this one! Heart broken, but proud. One more chapter to go, and for anyone wanting revenge, I promise that it will be served up nice 😊

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