#yandere aizawa smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aikrus · 2 months ago

Text

darling, can i be your favorite ?

Explicit Content yandere?

There’s a lot that comes with dating shouta aizawa, and a lot of the learning curve was trial and error. When you learned he was like you, not the same, but like you, it was as if the world clicked. It all made sense, because everything that had happened thus far had lead you to that moment- to when you met him for the first time.

Then you learned he would get distracted- his other things calling to him- and you understood. There was a stray dog you met that you fed once and it always seemed to call out to you since, but the thought of walking down some street when you could be here drowning in Shouta was laughable.

It wasn't the same for him. The thought of riding the metro, walking to work, crossing highschool hallways and spending hours with a few hundred people, it was appealing enough to draw him away from you. All the time.

The thought had lead you out of the apartment, a few blocks over, and to some vacant lot where the stray mut laid wagging its tail upon seeing you.

You wished Shouta was with you in your home. It was the only thing you felt.

So, just like the mutt, you'd have to train Shouta to respond to you the way you wished. Hopefully his learning curve will take less than the dogs.

The apartment was too quiet without him. Every ticking second without Shouta felt like a reminder that she wasn’t his priority—that his work, his students, his endless responsibilities always came first. It gnawed at her, the knowledge that she wasn't the most important thing in his life, despite how deeply she wanted to be.

She was his. Entirely. Completely.

But what was she to him?

The answer gnawed at her every time he left their shared space, the click of the door too final as he slipped away to teach, to train, to protect. Tonight was no different. Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she waited for the sound of him returning. The jealousy churned in her chest, burning hotter with each moment that passed.

When she finally heard the door creak open, she stood in the dim light of their bedroom, waiting. Shouta entered with his usual tired sigh, his figure casting a long shadow across the room. His eyes, half-lidded with exhaustion, landed on her.

“Long day?” she asked, her voice a little too even, a little too controlled.

He hummed in response, already shedding his capture weapon and boots, not noticing the way her body was tense, on edge. Not yet.

“I missed you,” she continued, moving closer, each step deliberate.

Shouta’s gaze flickered to her then, sharp and assessing. He could always tell when something was simmering beneath the surface, but tonight, it was different. Her need for him felt like a wound that wouldn’t close. It throbbed with every breath.

His voice was low when he spoke, “I know.”

But that wasn’t enough. She needed more than just acknowledgment. She needed to be seen, to be wanted as fiercely as she wanted him. The heat in her chest rose, fueled by the jealousy she had kept bottled for too long.

She reached for his tie, fingers brushing against his throat as she loosened it slowly, pulling him closer. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t stop her.

“I want you,” she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. “I need you.”

He was still for a moment, as if gauging her intent. His voice dropped, a familiar command threading through it, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But she didn’t answer with words. Instead, she pressed herself against him, her body warm and soft against his. Her fingers trailed down his chest, lower, unbuttoning his shirt with purpose. She could feel the shift in him, the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed under her touch.

His control was slipping, just as she had planned.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, his hands finding her hips, holding her in place.

“I need you to remember that I’m yours,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her need, her jealousy spilling out. “I need you to see me, Shouta.”

His grip tightened, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against her ear. “You think I don’t see you? That I forget?” His voice was dangerous now, laced with that intoxicating dominance that sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t need to play games like this to get my attention, darling.”

But she wanted to, needed to. She craved the way he responded to her touch, the way he looked at her when she pushed him to the edge. Her fingers slid under the waistband of his pants, tugging slightly, a challenge in her eyes. “Show me, then.”

And that was all it took. The air shifted, thick with tension as Shouta’s control snapped. He grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from his body as he spun her around, pressing her back against the wall with an intensity that made her heart race.

He growled, his breath hot against her neck as his hands pinned her wrists above her head.

Her body trembled under his touch, her mind swimming with the thrill of it all. This was what she wanted—this raw, unfiltered need. The power he held over her, the way he controlled her, dominated her. But even in this, there was trust. She trusted him with everything she had, and he knew it.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn’t need more encouragement. His lips crashed against hers, fierce and demanding, as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words. His hands roamed her body, possessive, claiming every inch of her as his own.

The tension between them built, a fire that threatened to consume them both. And in the heat of their passion, she knew she had succeeded. She had his full attention, and he wasn’t going to let her forget it.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice low and dangerous. “Every part of you. And don’t ever forget it.”

Her body ached for him, every touch sending waves of pleasure through her. The dynamic between them was perfect—his control, her submission, the trust that bound them together. She didn’t need to be jealous anymore. Not when he was looking at her like this, as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Her heart raced beneath his hands, every breath she took filled with the electric tension that hummed between them. Shouta's presence loomed over her, his grip firm and unyielding. The weight of his body pressed her harder against the wall, as if he wanted to remind her, forcefully, that there was no one else in his world right now—no students, no hero duties. Just her.

But it still wasn’t enough.

She needed more than his body, more than the rough way he took her lips with his. She needed to be everything to him. To feel like she was his sole focus in the same way he had become hers. Every waking moment, every heartbeat, she ached to be the center of his world, the thing he lived for.

“I want to be the only thing you think about,” she gasped against his mouth, her wrists still pinned above her head. “When you leave... when you're with them... I want you to want me like I want you.”

Shouta froze for a moment, his breath harsh against her cheek, her words sinking in deeper than any touch could. His grip tightened, but it wasn't just out of dominance now—it was a need. His need for her, just as desperate as hers for him. She could feel it in the way his chest heaved, the tension coiling in his muscles, barely held back by the thin thread of control he always wore like armor.

“You think I don’t?” His voice was rough, each word carrying the weight of his frustration. “You think I don’t spend every moment counting down the seconds until I can be with you?”

He lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers as he let out a slow, shaky breath. “You have no idea what you are to me.”

Her body trembled at his words, her heart clenching painfully. She wanted to believe him, but the jealousy still lingered, eating away at her. “I’m not enough. You—” she hesitated, her voice breaking, “You have your students, your work. You belong to the world... and I’m just here, waiting for the moments you give me.”

A small sound, almost like a growl, rumbled in his chest, and in an instant, his lips were on hers again, fierce and unrelenting. His hands, rough from years of combat, roamed down her body, exploring her as if he needed to remind her that every inch of her was his. He released her wrists, and before she could react, his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed in a few quick, determined steps.

She landed with a soft gasp, her body sinking into the mattress as he hovered above her, eyes dark with something between desire and anger. His knees pressed into the bed on either side of her hips, trapping her there, as his hands came down to cage her in.

"You think you’re just something I come home to?" Shouta's voice was low, dangerous. "Do you think I wouldn’t give all of that up for you if you asked me to?"

Her breath caught in her throat. The intensity in his gaze shook her to her core.

“Shouta…”

His fingers found the hem of her shirt, pulling it up slowly, torturously, over her head. His hands lingered, gliding down her sides, as if committing her form to memory. There was reverence in his touch, a gentleness that contradicted the raw need burning in his eyes.

“You’re not just some part of my life,” he said, his voice softening, though the rough edge remained. “You are my life. Do you understand that?”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears, her voice barely a whisper. “But you never say it. I need to hear it. I need to know.”

He stilled above her, his gaze softening for the first time that night. His hand came up to her face, cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed away a stray tear. “You want to be everything to me? You already are. You’re the only thing that matters to me—more than anything, anyone else.” His voice lowered to a whisper, intimate and raw. “I love my students. I care about what I do. But if you ever asked me to walk away from it all… I would. In a heartbeat.”

Her heart ached, every word sinking into the raw parts of her soul she had been so desperate to soothe. She searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, but there was none. Just that unwavering, steadfast devotion that had always been there, even when she hadn’t seen it.

“But you never—” she started, her voice cracking.

“I don’t say it enough,” he admitted, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his lips soft against her skin. “But you need to understand something. No one, nothing, comes before you. You have me—completely.”

Her body trembled beneath him as his words sank in, her need for him spilling over into something more intense, more desperate. She tugged at his shirt, fingers shaking as she struggled to pull it off. He helped her, throwing it aside before capturing her lips again, his hands everywhere—on her hips, her thighs, pulling her closer, closer, until it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.

His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake, his hands gripping her thighs as he settled between them. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with a promise. His need to reassure her, to give her everything she craved, matched her desperation to feel it.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her skin, his voice dark and possessive as his hands claimed her, each touch filled with the raw power of his love. “And I’m yours. Nothing will ever change that.”

Her body arched into his, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Then show me, Shouta. Show me how much I mean to you.”

And he did.

Grabbing her leg and lifting it, Shouta began to rub his cock head along your folds. "I love you," he said as he teased the clit with circular movements varying in pressure. Snaking his other hand across your torso he used his fingers to part the folds, giving clear way to him and letting his palm scratch against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I love you." He pushed the tip in and felt you squeeze around it, stopping less than and inch in before pulling out and repeating again. His mouth wrapped around your nipple as he began to suck- hot and wet with a heavy tongue.

"I love you," a thin trail of saliva connected the bright pink peak to his lips as he moved further inch by inch, shuddering and brushing the hair from your face.

He bottomed out, grabbing both of your hips and pulling you taunt- the pressure inside of you had never been this grand, this all-consuming. "I love you."

His movements were slow at first, deliberate, every kiss and touch laced with the promise of everything he was giving her. But soon the tension broke, his control slipping, and his hips begging to piston back and forth.

"I love you," he gasped, his lips darting to press wide kisses down your neck before suddenly closing around the muchle of the base and biting- sucking the skin into his mouth where his tongue rapidly massaged it.

His hands, his lips, his body—every part of him spoke the words she had longed to hear, that she was everything to him.

Their connection was more than physical—it was emotional, raw, and unbreakable. With every shuddering breath, with every gasp, she felt it. The intensity of his love, the depth of his devotion. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment—it was the bond they had built, the trust they had nurtured, the way he saw her as his equal, his partner, his everything.

"Gnn, fuck," Shouta rolled the two of you over, now laying on his back, and he used his arm strength to rapidly lift you up and let you fall on his impaling dick.

"Sh-shouta," your voice wobbled with the movement as your hands found your own breasts, trying to stabilize them from the constant falling.

He growled at the sight and used his thumb to work your clit, fast and rough with callous he strung you like a violin.

"Gonna," you tried to speak but felt your tongue lulll past your lips.

"Gonna what?" He teased, huffing a laugh before his face returned to its concentrated desperate expression.

The heat only pilled, tension only raised, until it felt like you would die if this went a moment longer. That's when you fell apart.

"Shouta!" Collapsing onto him your pulsing pressure sent him on his own spiral- pumping hot inside of you as his breath moved you up and down once more in a more soothing, less exciting way.

When they finally collapsed together, spent and breathless, he wrapped his arms around her, his lips brushing against her temple.

“Never doubt me again,” he whispered. “You are my favorite thing in this world.”

And for the first time in a long time, she believed it.

229 notes · View notes

depravitycentral · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS

In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.

It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?

He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.

Except, then you show up.

His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.

This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)

Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.

He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?

Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.

Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.

He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?

Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?

He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.

It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.

He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…

He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.

And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.

In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.

So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.

(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)

He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.

(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)

He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.

He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.

He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.

A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?

He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.

The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.

It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.

He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.

He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.

Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.

He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.

As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.

The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.

He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.

His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.

Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –

Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.

Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !

His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.

He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.

He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.

He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.

He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.

He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?

He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.

Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.

He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.

You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.

Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.

He really is a fucking creep.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS

Your thighs

Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.

Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.

It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.

And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.

Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.

Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?

(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)

Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.

He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.

Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.

(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)

He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.

He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.

He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.

You can’t.

His hands

In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.

And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.

But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.

(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)

He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.

All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.

And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.

They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.

He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.

(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)

He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.

DRIVE

Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.

Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.

(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)

He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.

It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.

But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –

He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.

And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.

But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.

Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.

And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.

And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.

(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)

And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.

You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.

But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.

(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)

He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.

And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.

And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.

They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.

And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.

It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.

And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.

Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.

And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.

Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?

When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.

Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?

Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –

Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.

I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.

You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.

It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.

MAIN THREE KINKS

Clothed Sex

It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.

Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.

But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.

And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.

He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.

He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.

He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.

And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.

And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.

It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.

The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.

And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.

He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.

Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.

He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.

He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.

(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)

Overstimulation

Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.

Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.

(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)

And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.

He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?

He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.

He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.

He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.

There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.

But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.

He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.

He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?

How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?

It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.

And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.

You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.

The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!

Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.

And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.

When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.

And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.

He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…

Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.

Anything.

Voyeurism

Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.

And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.

It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.

He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.

(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)

Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.

(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)

Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.

(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)

Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.

You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.

And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.

Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.

He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.

He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.

And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.

You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.

He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.

You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE

Hair Pulling

But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.

Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.

There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.

He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.

When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.

When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.

Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.

He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.

Mirror Sex

In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.

And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.

And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.

He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.

He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?

He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.

And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.

He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.

He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.

He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.

BIGGEST FANTASY

In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.

However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.

And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.

It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.

Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…

The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.

There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.

Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.

Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.

A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.

Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.

He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.

He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.

A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.

Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.

He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.

That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.

“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.

Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.

Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.

“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.

“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.

You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?

It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.

Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.

The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?

His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.

“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.

He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”

He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.

You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”

And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.

His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.

Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead #bnha smut #mha smut #_bnha #_shouta aizawa #_lee's profiles

849 notes · View notes

sandiaarts · 2 years ago

Text

Reblogs and comments are appreciated

4K notes · View notes

questioningmyexistence432 · 5 months ago

Text

'ʜɪꜱ'.

warnings - stalking, thoughts of kidnapping, reader being watched.

▣-▣-▣-▣-▣▣-▣-▣-▣-▣▣-▣-▣-▣-▣▣-▣-▣-▣-▣▣-▣-▣-▣-▣

he adores watching you - from how you move around in your tiny apartment as if it were your only safe place to how you interact with people when you go out. you wouldn’t need your apartment soon. he’d be your new safety net - your everything.

you had some quirks - some bad habits he’d scowl as he watched you take part in. it was fine. nothing he couldn’t fix. nothing he couldn’t ’train’ out of you. you needed a firm hand to guide you away from things.

you caught his eye immediately and he wasn’t planning on ever letting you go. no, he’s already planned your ‘disappearance’ for months now. soon, it would happen. he’d become a self-proclaimed god in your eyes by the time he was done with your training.

he stood outside your apartment while you sat on your secondhand sofa - it didn’t look very comfortable. he’d get you nice things soon. he watched as you lit up a cigarette - your attention half-focused on your hands but more so focused on the show playing on your television. he watched you like that for hours. until you had decided to go to your bedroom - forgetting about dinner. he wanted to barge through the apartment door and make you something himself. crossing his arms over his chest as he stood still.

however, he couldn’t stay mad at you. not when he saw your hand traveling under the covers while you lay in bed. a smirk on his face as he readied himself for the show you would put on - for him. all for him.

he, especially, loved how you’d make a mess of yourself in the dead of night. using your fingers and toys to help with your release - you’d never do that again once you were with him. chasing your own pleasure while he palmed himself through his pants at your window.

232 notes · View notes

melancholymegumi · 1 year ago

Text

"no, you can't go out. I'm not fucking with you sweetheart, ask me one more time and you won't even get to see the light of day. I'm giving you ten — get on the bed. I told you to not ask stupid questions."

Shota Aizawa , Denki Kaminari , Hitoshi Shinsou , Enji Todoroki, Yo Shindo (girls have thoughts) , Yuuta Okkotsu, Itadori Yuuji .

#melody's short nonesense #jjk smut #yandere jjk #yandere mha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #yo shindo x reader #yo shindo smut #aged up characters

454 notes · View notes

the-moonlightwitch-official · 10 months ago

Text

AINT NO PLACE LIKE "HOME" pt:5

summary: y/n l/n is a 18 year old girl that struggled in school a lot. It all started in kindergarten when her soul marks never appeared, becoming the class joke. But trust me, y/n’s life never got any easier when the marks did finally appear.

WARNING: MINORS DNI 18+, student x teacher, mentions of burning, scars, bullying, polyamorous, yandere, yandere themes, kidnapping, murdering, nsfw, DELUSION, violence.

THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Great, everyone believes you're dead now. The look of absolute dread on your face never went unnoticed by the trio. They don't care, the hard part is over with now. You look down at the chain wrapped around your ankles and grab the chain to play with it, while thinking about izuku and everything that happened at the hotel. It happened too fast, way too fast. They knew exactly where you were in a drop of a dime. But how? Is izuku ok? What about my mom?

“Seems the hard part is over with now huh”? You keep your head down as a pair of bare feet come into view. You hold the chain tighter and run your thumb over it. “Aw not talking to your favorite person?” the words of the man going in one ear and out the other. Refusing to grace them with your eyes as you stared at the ground. They seemed bummed out that you didn't speak nor look at him. So he crouched down into your view and rested his arms on his knees. His long blond hair falling over his muscular shoulders as he leans towards you, his green irises peering at you through his glasses. It's Hizashi.

You’ve never seen him in normal glasses before. He looks good, too good. You never noticed him without the apron either, he must’ve taken it off when you weren't paying attention. The half naked muscular man in tight pink boxers making you blush. You averted your eyes before he

notices you looking too hard, can't let him have what he wants.

He huffed and tilted his head. He raised a hand to caress your face and gently rub his thumb over your jawline. You closed your eyes as he admired you like a hungry and greedy man. He gripped your jaw and gently forced your head to look in his direction. “Look at me.” you closed your eyes tighter and forced your head out of his hand. In return he rolled his eyes and spoke with patience.

“Everythings gonna be fine ok, we got this. You’ll be grateful soon enough. There's plenty of food to eat and room to run around in.” you opened your eyes and looked at him disgusted that he was talking to you like you were some animal in a cage. “Hey and maybe if you behave you can go outside. With supervision of course.” he smiled at you, the light practically beaming off of his perfect pearly whites. You felt a wave of emotions rising in you as you contemplated violently knocking his perfect teeth out of his mouth. You both turned your heads when a voice cut in.

“have the cameras been set up yet”? Shota asks while walking past to make himself some coffee in the kitchen. All the violent thoughts in your head have been halted.

Jesus he’s fine as fuck. You watch as he walks past with pure lean muscle from head to toe, tight black boxers, and long black hair flowing with his movement, he looked almost like a god. Hizashi notices you watching sho as he walks past you guys all the way to the kitchen.

Hizashi smirks at you as he stands up and responds to him “not yet, but later today the team is gonna come back and finish up the work to set up the cameras and all that.” he said while walking towards shota who was pouring piping hot coffee into his favorite gray mug, that no one else is allowed to use. The steam rising from the mug looks hypnotizing as he pours it. He gently places the coffee pot back into its place, before taking a sip of the piping hot liquid.

You can't seem to understand why he likes his coffee that way, hizashi can't either.

No cream or sugar, just black coffee. That's how he liked it, simple. Toshi used to drink it like that as well, but ever since his incident with one for all leaving that wound, doctors advise him not to drink any heavily caffeinated drinks. If he wishes to enjoy a cup, it must be sparingly.

You can’t help but stare mesmerized as your soon to be fiance shota leaned against the counter. Abs flexing as he crosses his muscular arms over his chest while holding the steaming cup of coffee. His hair is a long black mess falling over his shoulders. You honestly wouldn’t mind giving your virginity to him, especially when he looked like that under his clothes. you secretly favored him over the others. But you are upset with him for what he did to Izuku. Your attention was broken when Hizashi snapped his fingers and looked at shota with excitement. “Guess what?” shota looked up at him with tired dead eyes “what”.

“ I know we were trying to be smart with our money considering the plan and all, but I did pay extra for extremely strong glass. Y’know for all the windows and mirrors, and even the glass doors, y’know for extra security.” He said as he walked to the kitchen window and knocked on it. “She ain’t gonna break this bad boy. Theyre gonna install all of it today.” shota nodded impressed and responded after taking another sip. “Good purchase.”

toshinori got up off of the couch and made his way over to you “where are we going to put her, while they’re here?”

Hizashi looked over at the clock on the wall knowing they’re gonna be here in a couple of hours. “Shit your right.” he clicked his teeth with his tongue while thinking. “Well they pretty much finished installing her room yesterday, could put her up there, and you could keep her company while I work down here with the team.” hizashi said to toshi while looking up at you with his hands on his hips.

Toshi nodded in agreement. “Well I gotta get going, gotta work.” shota cut in while setting his finished coffee cup on the counter. He pecked hizashi and toshi on the lips as he disappeared upstairs. Hizashi looked at toshi. “I gotta head to work after the team leaves, can you handle her?'' Toshi looks at you and smiles “of course, she's a good girl. Except for the fight from yesterday.'' Hizashi looked down at you remembering the fight. “Gonna have to work extra hard for my forgiveness, " he said while massaging the bruise on his calf. You looked up at him confused and disgusted. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Hizashi smiled at you sweetly and seductively '' Anything you want it to mean sunshine. alright i'm gonna go put some clothes on”. He said as he stood up straight and patted you on the head and disappeared up the same stairs as his husband.

Toshi walked over to you bending down to start undoing your chains. “BEHAVE” he said as he stared into your soul. He wore a black shirt and gray sweatpants. Not as attractive as the others, also never thought he would wear that either. He grabbed your arm and helped you up before gathering the chains and guiding you down a hallway and into your new room that's right beside his.

So hizashi and sho’s rooms are upstairs. There's apparently a bunch of rooms with bathrooms but they chose your room to be one without one, since they would want you to use one of theirs with supervision. The bedroom was honestly beautiful. The bed, the lights, the curtains, the decor, you even have a tv. No wonder everyone leaves the decorating to hizashi.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” he asked, looking down at you while holding your arm and tossing the chains onto the bed. “No”. It was a lie, and a big one. But you know that he would stand in there with you. “Alright then” he said as he picked you up and placed you on the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as he started wrapping the chains around your ankles again.

“What's necessary, especially after yesterday.” After he wrapped you up he grabbed the television remote and laid down next to you. “What do you wanna watch” you huffed and turned over. “Nothing.” toshinori rolled his eyes and turned on a sitcom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After half an hour you heard a couple of knocks on your door before it creaked open. Shota walked in dressed in his hero suit. He kissed toshi before walking to the other side of the bed to lean over you and peck your forehead with his lips. You pretended to be asleep. Sho knew that was bullshit. But he couldn't help but admire you as he ran his scared fingers through your hair. The memories of his horrific act with the clone, clouding his mind. Your “funeral” is also today. He’s gotta look nice at the funeral that's going to be broadcasted on national television. Toshi is supposed to be there, but he can't so sho will make an excuse for him.

His mind raced with thoughts as he began to caress your face gently as if you were made of glass and would break. You're here, and you're safe, that's all that matters to him. He bent down one last time to peck your lips before heading off to work. His lips were warm and minty. He must have put on some chapstick. It sadly made you crave more. Without thinking you chased his lips when he pulled away. He looked down at you surprised before dipping back down. He connected his lips with yours again. You were shocked that you did that. But his lips feel good. It felt like a comfort you never knew you needed. He pulled away and smiled at you. “I gotta head out, ok?” he said. You looked away ashamed of what you did. He waved at toshi before walking out.

You stared at the ceiling as you heard him walking through the house and out of the front door. Hearing his car drive off before deciding to look over at toshi who had his reading glasses on while playing a crossword puzzle out of a book. Good lord. You heard more knocking on the door and looked over, and in came the boisterous blond. He was wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants as well with his Long blond hair in a bun. He smiled brightly at you and toshi. “Doesn’t this room look beautiful? I had it done specifically to your preferences sweetheart.”

you looked confused then scanned the room. He was right, your favorite colors and animals and posters. Everything down to a T, and you never noticed. But how could he know? He never saw your room….right?

Little did you know that his obsession with you is stronger than the other two’s. It got so bad that he was getting up in the middle of the night, and sneaking out of the house without waking his husband to go to your home and sneak into your window undetected to watch you sleep. There's been many nights where he slept in the same room with you without you knowing.

Even went as far as to unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants, watching as his rock hard length sprung into the cool air with a red hot tip dribbling pre cum. He rubbed one out as he stood at the foot of your bed.

He even used your lotion. Precum flying everywhere as he thrusted into his fist roughly at the end of your bed. Loud slick sounds bounced off the walls as he picked up the pace and tightened his fist. He picked up a pair of used panties off the floor to catch his cum as it spurted out. He breathed heavily as he looked up at you after cumming. Smiling like a dork. Thinking to himself that he wishes that you could watch him do that. He has a kink for his partners watching him touch himself. If only you could see how big and long he was, how he could satisfy you and hit every spot inside of you, making you scream, as your ass bounced off his dick.

But that information stays with him until the day he dies. But just know that he definitely has seen your room more than enough times. “It's awesome right?” he said looking at you expectantly. You looked around trying not to get creeped out. “Sure” he frowned at the simple, small uninterested answer. Before he could say anything else. You all heard loud car door slams outside. Not like you could look outside your window since you're chained to your bed. Toshinori sat up and Hizashi walked over to the window.

“Great they’re here”! He says spinning around and walking out of the room.

The next couple of hours were filled with loud footsteps, loud bangs, and thuds, the sounds of hammers and drills as they install cameras and decor to hizashi’s liking. The blond's loud voice constantly booming around the house with “NOT THERE” and “PUT IT HERE” and “HEY BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE, THEY WERE MY MOTHERS.”

You looked up as a couple of men entered your room to install a camera in the corner of your ceiling. Hizashi entered the doorway and met toshinoris glare. “Sorry I forgot about a camera needing to be in this room too.” Hizashi said while he shrugged at toshi. You looked up at the man on the ladder, and the men surrounding him. They were all purposefully not looking at you. Like they felt pity for you. No...almost like they were scared to look in your direction. Almost like if they even dared to view you, they would meet their fate. Hizashi is their fate. He's the most obsessive and predatory person you have ever met.

“All right, great work boys.” he said as they wrapped up everything and started heading out of your room. One stayed behind. “Looks like we did everything, it all looks pretty good, and the cameras were installed perfectly. If you have any questions or need anything else, please call me.” Hizashi nodded at him with respect and handed him a $100 tip, and with that all the men gathered their belongings and left the home.

You looked up at the camera pointing right at you in the corner of your room. “Check this out toshi, we can download an app that controls the cameras.” Hizashi said as he used his phone to move the camera every which way. Great definitely no privacy. He walked over to toshi to help him download the app. Once they got all that situated. Hizashi left to get ready for work. Toshi thanked god that it was his day off because then you would be left home alone. What could be better than Toshi's company? He thought to himself.

Hizashi came back into the room smiling in his hero suit. “All right my doves, I must be off.” he said as he kissed Toshi on the lips and rounded the bed to kiss you. He tried to kiss your lips but you dodged it. He didn't give up though, you kept moving your head around to dodge the kisses and eventually he got tired of it and grabbed your face and forced your lips onto his. “See it wasnt that hard huh?” he said, chuckling to himself. He stood up straight and fixed his jacket. “All right, I'm going to work, I'll be back later. If you need anything toshi im one call away.” Toshi nodded at him and wished him well.

The day carried on with you laying in bed and toshinori doing paperwork with reading glasses next to you in bed. He occasionally thought about izuku. How disappointed in him he is for kidnapping you and scaring you. (still delusional i see). He thought about how he is going to deal with him. No better way than to threaten him. You thought about izuku as well. How is he doing?

You decided to change the channel and forget your worries. Until the news channel came on and it's a funeral. You thought nothing of it until the person in the casket looked familiar… is that…you? It's a funeral. For you. Toshinori looked up from his puzzle to see what the commotion was. His eyes widened. Shit… he forgot about that happening today.

Aizawa was there looking down with everyone else as they prayed over your casket. Your mother was there beside him “sobbing”. She didn't seem too upset. Maybe she knows you're still alive. Hope filled your body. Maybe you can be saved. The funeral wasn’t too long. Your casket was lowered into the ground and everyone was interviewed, paying their respects. Including your mother. Aizawas' interview was just a bunch of “you cant save everyone” bullshit. Great now everyone DEFINITELY believes that you're dead.

They wasted no time getting the ball rolling for everything. It hasn't even been a day yet and your funeral is already happening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hizashi had no problem covering for his husband's class while he was attending your “funeral”. It wasn’t for too long since the funeral was set to start a couple of hours before class starts. Shota was only 10 minutes late to class today. Nothing major. Once he returned Hizashi told him how good and quiet the kids were today before heading to his own class.

Shota seemed to be treating Midoriya differently today. He seems to drop everything he hands izuku onto the ground before izuku could grab it, Almost like shota is dropping it on purpose. He hands out classwork to everyone but izuku. He huffs in annoyance when izuku raises his hand. Izuku’s terrified of his teacher because of the past event that happened, but he must be brave. “Yes midoriya?” he says in a low sinister tone. Izuku gulps. “You didn't hand me one sir.” shota rolls his eyes before saying “oh you mean one of these?” while lifting up a sheet of classwork. GULP ``yes sir” he smirks. “Come get one then.'' Izuku stood up slowly and made his way to his teacher's desk. It felt like centuries as Aizawa stared at him. He stopped at the foot of his desk and looked down at the sheet of paper sitting next to his teacher's laptop. Shota noticed his hesitancy.

In a low predatory tone he spoke. “Go on, take it.” izuku closed his eyes and gulped before slowly reaching his shaky hand to grab the paper. “I'm not gonna bite.” Once izuku’s hand touched the paper, shota jumped and growled loudly at him just like a dog attack. Izuku snatched his hand back to himself and stumbled over himself. He looked horrified at Aizawa as he laughed like it was the funniest thing he has ever done. He's never seen his teacher laugh so hard or even smile in that matter. Izuku’s heart is beating out of his chest. Shota stands up and wipes a tear from his own eye.

“Oh you know I'm just joking around with ya kid. You should have seen your face.” he says as he hands him the sheet of paper. Izuku just stares at him. “Well go on, take it.” shota insists. He snatches the paper quickly out of his teachers hand as if he’ll rip his arm off. Shota’s face drops back into a dead look before leaning over in his face and saying in a chilling tone. “Now go sit the fuck down.”

Izuku scrambled back to his desk while the class laughed at him. He couldn't focus on his work after that. Shota noticed. “Midoryia, you better focus, I would hate to have to take you out of the hero course.” izuku looked up and saw shota staring at him through his long back hair. “Yes sir.”

Hizashi treated midoriya no differently than shota. Constantly “forgetting” about him, and torturing him. Giving him more homework than the rest of the class. Izuku regretted getting involved with your scary situation. But you're his best friend, how could he not? You're gone now and there's nothing he can do. He saw the news. You were found dead in that very hotel room, and had a funeral later as well. It doesn't make sense. Not for someone who was there. He saw you being escorted out. How could you end up back in the same room dead. He doesn't believe what everyone was fooled by. You're not dead. He knows it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tea”? Toshinori shouted from the kitchen. “Sure” you said looking dead at the living room television as some random rom com played. He was nice enough to let you out of your chains earlier since you asked nicely and promised to be good. How far could you possibly get? This place is basically locked down to the highest levels possible. The locks are apparently top notch along with the glass windows and doors, and there are hella cameras. Your ass aint getting anywhere without anyone knowing. Hell, just moving an inch would have the cameras notifying them.

They were even nice enough to inject a small quirk canceling thing in your arm while you were asleep. Definitely an illegal thing. They got it off the street from a guy who also laced it so you couldn't feel it. You can thank Toshinori for that idea since he used to do drugs when he was at his lowest, fucking all those women looking for his soulmate (aka you). The only reason you know about the thing in your arm is because toshi slipped up when he was mumbling about protecting you when he thought you were asleep.

“I need to use the bathroom.” you mumbled as toshi walked over to you carefully with a hot cup of tea, setting it down in front of you. He stood back up and nervously wiped his hands on his pants and looked around. “Uh sure, of course.” you stood up and looked at him. “Oh, uh, it's upstairs and it's the first door on the left. Do you want me to come with”? You shook your head. “I can manage, i mean how far can i get in this house?” you laughed in defeat. Apparently he didn't find that funny. He watched as you made your way up to the bathroom. You closed the door and scrambled to the toilet to pee immediately. You’ve been holding it since this morning. Luckily toshi trusted you enough to take the chains off your feet and let you roam around. Almost time for the other two to start heading home if they don't have other plans. After wiping you stood up and pulled your pants up. You washed your hands with the wonderfully scented soap that hizashi picked out.

You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. God you look like shit. You bent down and splashed your face with ice cold water for almost a solid minute as if you're trying to wake yourself up from this dream. Not working. You shut off the water and walked over to the towels and dried your face off. You thought about everything and took a deep breath and put your back against the wall and slid down to the floor. You slumped over on the floor wishing death upon yourself. Looking straight ahead you notice the sink cabinets. Wonder what’s under there. You get up on your knees and crawl over and open it, of course you expected back up bathroom necessities, and it was. But you notice something all the way in the back. A singular bobby pin. An idea slams your brain. The locks around the house may be top notch, but you're sure it's nothing a bobby pin cant take care of.

You quickly move everything and grab the bobby pin. You sit back and hold the bobby pin in between your palms as you pray to the heavens that your idea works. Hope finds its way into your heart. But all of that was interrupted by knocking on the door. You scrambled to close the cabinet and stand up shoving the bobby pin into your sock. “Hey, are you alright, you’ve been in there for a while.”

“Yeah im fine.” you say with your heart beating out of your chest. You stumble back as he unlocked the door with ease and came in. “sorry just had to make sure you were ok.” he walked into the bathroom and scanned it and scanned you. Looks fine to him. “Let's go play a board game, yeah”? You nodded and followed him to the dining room table as he grabbed a board game from a large cabinet. “Let's play candyland.” he said as he smiled at you bringing it over to set it on the table. Candyland, your childhood game. How the fuck do these creeps know everything about you. “Have you played this before”? He asked as he unpacked it. Oh as if he doesn’t fucking know.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I get a snack out of the fridge”? He looked up and over to the kitchen. “Sure” he didn't worry since he could see everything going on in the kitchen from where he sat. you stood up and went to the fridge pretending to pick something out. The fridge and kitchen was loaded with snacks and foods that you liked. The only reason they would know is from the worksheets they hand us in the beginning of the year to write things down about ourselves and the snacks, foods, hobbies, music, and colors that we like.

You walked over to the cabinet close to a small stairway that led to a hallway with a glassdoor. One that led to the outside world. You looked over to toshi to see his nose deep in the board game instructions. You looked around the kitchen with something to hit him with. There's no knives. They hid them all. Fuck. But there's a cutting board. It was a fancy glass one, it was fucking heavy. You quietly grab it and put it behind your back and make your way over to toshi. He never noticed you walking over, raising a cutting board over your head in a deadly manner.

He started mumbling to himself, confused on the instructions “Wait, if this goes here, then this must go-” WHAM

He was out like a light. His blond head slamming against the table. Silence filled the room as he slumped over. You stared at him terrified that you actually did that before the adrenaline kicked in and you were running like a bat out of hell towards the back door. Regret fills you as you approach the clear glass door and notice how gray and foggy it is outside from all of the heavy rain, how could you even see? Why now of all times? It's too late now. It’s now or never. You scrambled to get the pin out from your sock, you were shaking so bad that you dropped it a few times, before finally getting it into the door, after constantly looking behind you. “CLICK” oh my god. You did it. It's unlocked. So much for “MAXIMUM security locks”. You grabbed the door knob and swung the door open, and there it is, that beautiful view you were dying to see. The outside world. After looking over your shoulder just one more time, you booked it out of the house. You could see it, smell it, and taste it. Freedom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

School let out and shota decided to stay and take over for the detention teacher since they had a personal emergency, and hizashi decided to go over to your mothers house and share his condolences for your death. He hopped into the car throwing his bags into the back seat and took his jacket, speaker, headphones and shades off. Tossing them in the passenger seat beside him. He grabbed a comb from out of the glove department and combed his hair down and put it in a bun. He opened the department to put the brush back and grabbed a pair of his normal glasses and put them on. He looked in the rearview mirror at his face to see if he looked good. Even checking his pearly white teeth. “Alright” he said as he put the keys in the ignition and started the car. “Let's get this ball rolling.” he said as he began to drive out of there.

Hizashi decided to hit up a flower shop on the ride there. Once he got the flowers, he was on his way to your moms. The car ride there was almost unbearable, the traffic was awful and he almost got T-boned 12 times by fucking idiots who apparently are color blind to traffic lights. But alas, he made it. He slowly pulled up to your house and turned the car off. Deciding to look into the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath and getting out. He closed the car door and made his way up your porch. He took a deep breath as he rang the doorbell. Sounds of a small dog barking and a woman telling it to hush, can be heard on the other side of the door. The sound of a lock can be heard before the door opens. “Oh hello there.” your mother says with a bright smile. Hizashi nodded “hello ms. L/n, do you mind if i come in”? She looked him up and down in a seductive way before answering. “Why sure.” he was absolutely disgusted. Her daughter just “died” and this is how she acts?

Hizashi kept his smile as he entered the home and looked around as your mother shut the door behind him. “Are those for me”? She asked sweetly. Hizashi nods and hands her the flowers. “Oh I gotta find a pretty vase for these.” she sings as she walks to the kitchen. “Oh I almost forgot, how rude of me. Would you like any Tea, water, juice, or coffee”? She asked while scurrying past him to pull out a chair from the table for him to sit. He waved his hand with dismissal while sitting down in the seat she offered. “No thank you, I appreciate it though”.

He smiled at her.

“Ok then, what brings your handsome self here”? She says as she fills a vase with water and places the flowers inside. He visibly cringes with the language. “I just thought that I should come by and give you my condolences about what happened with y/n”. He says as he fakes a look of concern and sadness on his face.

She looks down and chuckles a bit. “Oh, that's all”? Setting the flowers aside.

Hizashi looks confused. “She’s not all that special to me mr. Yamada.” Your mom looks straight ahead out the window above the sink into the back yard to look at the swingset that you used to play on when you were a kid.

“Yes, she was my child. But she was nothing but a financial problem for me and my boyfriends that i dated. They wanted her gone. But I kept her since she had a chance of becoming a hero and being famous, so I would be able to use her for my own wealth. I mean this swingset I bought for her put me into debt.” She says as she gestures her hand towards the swingset outside of the window.

Hizashi’s eyes widened. What. the. Actual. Fuck. And he thought HE was sick in the head. Get a load of this bitch. He’s stunned. This was never the reaction he thought he would get. This is a joke right?

“I'm sorry”? He says as he stands up. “You heard me. I'm free now. No more having to pay for an ungrateful little bitch, no more forcing her into the hero course, and no more stress of trying to figure out what to do with her since all of my past boyfriends don't seem like her. I can now erase her as if I never had a child, and I would have better luck with relationships” She turned and smiled at Hizashi but her smile faltered a little bit before saying, “but my chance of wealth is out of the picture now that she’s gone.”

“Is that all you're worried about”? Hizashi says in all seriousness and rage. Damn he never thought your mom would say such things about you. “At the moment, yes. Besides, now that she’s gone I can finally shoot my shot with you. I have always had a thing for you, But dating my daughter's teacher would be odd, but she's gone now, and you're definitely my type.” she says as she walks over with a seductive smirk.

He takes a few steps back. “You choose men over your own child and teachers are where you draw the line”? She reaches the table that he stood at and leans on it. “What's the matter, I've always noticed the way you look at me, your partner with the dark hair as well, maybe we can run a train. You should call him since you're already here” she says as she gestures her head behind her towards her bedroom. Hizashi looks past her shoulder and sees she's gesturing to her room.

He visibly cringes trying not to vomit from pure disgust. It takes everything in him not to tell her that he’s definitely into her daughter instead of her. Rage fills his body. “How the fuck could you say something like that.” His heart hurts for you. Thank the Gods that he kidnapped you, he practically saved you and he can tell you had no idea that your mother held this secret of rage and hatred. His soul hurt. Memories of him attending crime scenes where the child met a terrible fate because the mothers chose the man over them, begins to flood in and haunt him where he stands. He wishes nothing but the worst for those types of mothers. Little did he know that your mother was one of them.

She looks at him confused seeing that he hurts for you. “What? You want her over me? Oh my god of course you do, she’s always been prettier than me.'' She throws her hands up in defeat and walks towards him shoving a finger to his chest. “Fine, if thats how you want to be then get the fuck out of my house. NOW!” he stares down at her with anger and a lone tear falling down his face. He contemplates his next move.

This is all happening so fast and unexpected. Does he beat her until she’s unrecognizable? Does he start recording and show the police and frame her for the death of her daughter? The second option sounds like a wonderful plan honestly. His fists clenched up. She huffed and turned around to walk away. He raises his fist but logic struck him before he could hit her. He quickly straightened himself up and walked out of the home. He walked to his car as he wiped his tears. Leaving the house with her still alive in it, took a lot of strength not to kill her. He looked in the rearview mirror and checked his face, wiping any excess tears. He straightened his glasses and started the car, backing out of the driveway. She's not getting away with this alive. Hizashi wont allow it. He can't hurt her unfortunately because It'll cost him his career. But he'll find a way. If she wont show you the love appreciation that you deserve then he will, and so will sho and toshi.

He called toshinori who wasn’t picking up and decided to call shota instead. He was so angry and upset he didn't even bother checking the cameras when Toshi didn't answer. Little did he know that he should have.

With a couple of rings shota picks up. Without wasting time he speaks “sho i'm going to take a street parole shift for tonight.” he waits for shota to answer. “Why?'' Hizashi thinks about everything and huffs. “Someone called off and there isn’t anyone to take over, so I decided to.” he lied. “Ok then, i’ll see you late tonight then?'' Hizashi nods. “Yes.”

“Ok is there anything else you called me for?” Hizashi hovers his finger over the end call button on his steering wheel before saying “no, I just wanted to inform you of that. I love you goodbye.” then clicked the button, ending the call. He’s working tonight because he can't go home and have you see him like this. He wanted to spend tonight with you especially after what just happened. So he’ll just have to make it up to you tomorrow and stay home from work.

He began grabbing all of his outfit accessories from the passenger seat and put them on as he drove to the hero agency where he would be spending the rest of his day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was freezing as it hit your face along with sprinkles of rain that were getting heavier by the minute. You can't breathe anymore from how long and fast you’ve been running, even stepping on a few spikey seed pods on the ground with your bare feet, but you never stopped running. You can't feel your legs anymore. Your Lungs are cold and heavy in your chest. You must keep going. Wait, I found it. The gate at the end of the driveway. You started to slow down as you approached it. You looked frantically behind you as you came to a stop in front of it. You would never know if he followed you out here, since the fog is too heavy to see through.

The humidity does nothing to aid your breathing, as the rain picks up. Turning around you begin to scan your surroundings as the rain begins to violently soak everything around. Your hair and clothes are now soaking wet and heavy.

The bars are too close together, and you can't climb them since they were built to be sharp at the top. The walls were made of bricks with barbed wire at the top. Fuck. You look over and see a “private property” and “smile for the camera” sign on the side of the gate. Looking above the signs you see a giant camera facing you. There must be cameras on both sides. Your brows knit in anger as you lift your middle finger to the camera.

Trying but getting stuck when you try to squeeze through the bars. Anger taking over as you used whatever strength you had to get yourself unstuck, ultimately flying and landing in a huge puddle of rainwater. You stared at the gray sky that sported a huge flash of lightning, and a few moments later the loudest sound of thunder you have ever heard in your life. You couldn’t help but sob. “Please, just please.” you prayed and spoke to whoever was listening. Taking a deep breath, you got up and looked over at a tree that was super close to the wall. Perfect. You ran over to the tree and began climbing it. Thank God for your tree climbing skills that you got when you were a kid. You got to the top and crawled along a branch that would take you to the other side. Almost there. “BAM”

Everything around you shook. The branch bounced and caused you to fall, almost face planting into the barbed wire. Your body slammed into a large puddle on the ground. You were covered from head to toe in mud. There's no time to waste, you thought to yourself as you scrambled to stand up. You thought nothing of the large sound that happened, thinking that it was just thunder. You turned around and your heart stopped beating. Toshinori stood there in his might form, staring down at you. Looking up in fear, you backed up as his hulking form loomed over you.

The shadows covering his eyes perfectly made him look more frightening. He breathed deep and heavy with anger as the rain bounces off of his huge form. Neon blue irises peered at you through the shadows around his eyes, making you realize that the sound that you thought was thunder was actually him hitting the ground from out of the sky. Looking down you noticed the mud scattered everywhere and a huge divot in the ground under his feet from the impact.

You stumble backwards from the large man. Only causing him to take a step forward for every step that you took back. The ground vibrates under you with every step that you take. Eventually backing up into the brick wall with nowhere to go. He is towered over you, seething. The only thing that you can do now is beg. “P-please, im sorry, i-i-i did not mean t-to hurt you.” great now you're stuttering. You raise your hands up in defense. “You know I wouldn't mean to hurt you. Please. I have to go home, i-i miss my mom, and my life, i h-have to go home please. Please.” you stuttered and begged through your sobs.

The begs of mercy and pleas fell upon deaf ears. Almost like they were bouncing off of a wall as he just stood there staring at you, not making a single sound. Nothing worse than the silence. Nothing can be heard but the pitter patter sounds of rain hitting every surface around the both of you and the occasional sound of thunder. He reaches forward and you shriek. Dodging his grip and running for your life. You knew your fate was sealed as the ground below you failed you with slippery mud. Slipping and falling on your ass multiple times didn't stop you from getting up to run. He wasn’t running, he was walking slowly towards your small frail frame as you ran like your life depended on it. He walked like a killer from a movie. Slow and taunting like.

You slipped one last time. And he caught up to you. A shriek pierced the air as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you to your feet from the roots of your head. He got a mere inch from your face and stared into your soul. He was so close that you could feel the air from his nostrils on your face. You couldn’t help but sob and bring your arms above your head to try to pry his large hand off of your scalp, only causing more pain for yourself. His voice causes you to freeze. “You have disappointed me y/n l/n”. His voice was terrifyingly calm. Without a second longer he threw you into the air and caught you before jumping off of the ground and using the force of his strength to fly into the air towards the house. A loud scream of “NO” erupted from you as he jumped off the ground.

This was horrifying. You were already scared of heights and you could see the earth below you as you flew 3000 ft into the air. So that's how he got to where you were. He flew. But how did he know exactly where you were in the huge messy forest surrounding the driveway. You missed the cameras that were planted all over the forest that were facing right at you, pinpointing every location you were. The landing felt like it could have killed you with the force of impact. He straightened his body after landing and walked to the back of the house where the glass door that you ran through. He walked carefully through the door to make sure that he can fit through it without having to drop you or change his size. He was successful. You watched as your freedom slipped away from your fingers like sand as he closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost 7pm and shota began packing up everything. The kids were dismissed hours ago, but he needed to finish leftover work that hasn't been done since the incident of you being ‘kidnapped’ by izuku. Man, he's hungry. Should he pick something up to bring home? Nah cooking sounds good, even though he's absolutely exhausted. He hasn’t had homemade meals in a while other than this morning. Too much takeout lately. He smirked at the thought of you watching him while he's in the kitchen with an apron on. He noticed the way you looked at him this morning when he was wearing nothing but boxers.

He held onto that thought as he exited the building with his bag, only to stop as he saw the heavy rain pouring. Yeesh he shouldn’t have parked so far away. He raised his bag over his head to protect him from the rain as he jogged to his car. He quickly unlocked his car and jumped in as he tossed his bag to the passenger seat. Shota took a deep breath as he watched the unbearably heavy rain bounce off of his windshield. Jeez. He took his phone out to shoot a text to toshi that he's on his way home now. Toshi replied quickly with a thumbs up. Shota was satisfied with Toshi's answer and put the phone down before starting the car and turning the windshield wipers on at the highest level, before driving off.

The drive home sucked. The amount of times that idiots almost hit him from every angle is horrendous. Something about the rain makes people drive like fucking morons. He pulled up to the gates and showed the camera his face and it unlocked the gates for him. He takes a deep breath as the gates slowly open, hoping he doesn't come home to any surprises because you misbehaved in any way shape or form. He presses on the gas and makes his way down the driveway. After about 5 minutes the house comes into view. “Hmm, not burned down. That's a good sign.” He reaches the house and stops the car. He turns the car off and takes the keys out of the ignition. Reaching over he grabs his bag to hover over his head again as he exits the vehicle in the pouring rain. He reaches the door and unlocks all 3 locks and types in a passcode before being let in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were terrified as you laid strapped down and chained to your bed. Toshinori is lying beside you watching tv with his fingers intertwined on his chest. Giving you the occasional glare. He was disappointed that it got to the point where he had to break out the straps and make you completely immobile. You know something is waiting for you. You both perk up when you both hear the sound of the front door being opened. Your heart beats heavier than before. “Shota’s home.” toshinori said as he got up and walked out, leaving you alone in the room. No no no no what's going to happen to me?

After what seemed like half an hour, the door opened and Shota stepped in, and shut the door calmly. He slowly stalked towards your bed, and stood at the end of it. Putting both of his hands on the bed frame and leaning on it towards you. His raven hair falling over his shoulders as he glared at you. Eyes glowing just slightly red. You can tell that he’s had a rough day. This cannot be good. Panic rose in your soul as you tried to find the right words to plead. You were about to open your mouth but quickly zipped it when he noticed words were about to come out of your mouth and gripped the bed frame even harder causing it to creak in protest and crack open. Long cracks shooting across the frame. His eyes are getting redder and redder. He looked up and took a deep breath before calmly taking his hands off of the frame and standing up straight.

Shota looked down at your ankles. Gently guiding his hand to ghost over your feet.

“I was hoping that you would behave tonight. Now it looks like toshi is going to make dinner while I keep you company”. He ran his index finger along the bottom of your foot, tickling you, causing your foot to jerk. He quickly grabbed it harshly and yanked it to him. He stared into your soul menacingly as his rough, scarred hands held your foot in an iron clasp grip. “Please i-”

His raven hair started to float when more noise left your mouth, causing you to quickly shut it.

He sighed heavily before speaking in a low unnerving tone.

“I don't want to do this, but I'm left with no choice. I can't let you off scott free with just a few ‘im sorrys’. You won't learn anything.” He squeezed your foot even harder, to the point of snapping it in half. “Your actions have consequences. And hopefully this lesson will stick in that fucking head of yours.” He then grabbed the second ankle and looked you dead in the eyes before gripping them both tightly with the strength only a god could have before snapping both of your ankles in different directions causing horrendous damage to your bones. White hot pain shot through your ankles and legs. Your blood curdling screams fell of deaf ears as he dropped your ankles back onto the bed like they were nothing. The weight of them slamming back onto the bed causes you to scream louder.

Shota stalked over to you and tilted his head as he watched you sob with snot and drool running down your face. He reached down and gripped a handful of hair in his hand as he lifted your head roughly. “Look” you refused to open your eyes. “I SAID LOOK” the fear overtaking whatever was left of your body and to your dismay, you opened your eyes. He was showing you the work he was proud of. Horror filled your entire body as he spoke. “Look at that, can't go anywhere now huh”? Your face going pale as you stared down at your twisted fuck up ankles beyond repair. He slammed your head back down to the bed and got close to your ear so there was no way you couldn’t hear him. “Hopefully THIS” he says as he shakes your limp ankle causing you to wince in pure agony. “Will be a lesson that sticks, Because this is only a mere warning.”

You began to sob but he gripped your hair even tighter and shook your head. “Next time you wont have any fucking feet, and thats only if i feel generous enough to let you keep your whole legs.” He dropped your head and stood up straight. “Your grounded, no tv, tablet, board games, or whatever the fuck you do in your free time. Your going to be in this bed and never fucking leave it, not like you can anyway.” he chuckled to himself. He began to walk out before turning back to you. “No privacy either, this door stays open and if I catch it closed I'm going to take it off of its hinges, no bathroom time by yourself either, and no dinner.” he said as he walked out of the door to leave you in a sobbing broken mess on your own bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man, it's soaking out here. Mic thought to himself as he patrolled the empty dark streets. The occasional grocery bag skidding across the pavement from the wind. He honestly wishes something would happen, time is moving way too slow for his liking. He can't help but think about your mother and what a vile human being she is. Then he thinks about you. He hopes everything is going ok at home. He fights the urge to call shota so check up on you, he's not supposed to be caught on his phone during patrols. His hair is soaking wet and has fallen flat a few hours ago when the rain was at its peak. It’ll be weird seeing THE present mic all dressed up but with his hair down and soaked.

Jeez can something happen please. He was bored out of his mind and he couldn’t take his mind off of your mothers words about you. A scream from the distance halted his thoughts. He perked up and ran immediately to the sound. It's coming from an alleyway. Typical. He walked into the alleyway still bored out of his mind, thinking that this is some cliche everyday robber. “Hey buddy why don't you put the purse down and maybe i’ll le-” mic freezes as the criminal turns his head and peers at him. It's the serial killer that nobody can seem to catch. The very one that kidnaps people and leaves the corpses in america. That same killer that his husband and fiance framed for the “death” of their darling in that hotel room. His face goes pale.

Before mic can say anything the killer drops what he was doing and lunges forward, knocking mic onto his ass. Mic got up and landed a few blows before picking him up and swinging him around and slamming him to the alleyway walls. He held onto the killer's shirt as he continually punched him knocking a few teeth loose. He slammed his head into the wall and held it there as he twisted his arm behind his back and got close to his ear. “It’s over buddy, you’ve been caught. Do you feel guilty? All of those lives you took?” he asks as he took restraints out of his pocket and detained him, throwing him to the ground.

The killer spit up some blood before answering with a big smile that was missing some teeth. “No, never.” mic rolled his eyes while he kept an eye on him and took his phone out ready to dial the police and turn him in. As he was dialing the man spoke up. “Hey hey hey, no need for that man. I can do whatever you want or KILL whoever you want.” mic froze and looked up at him. Ideas coming into mind. The killer noticed the look on mics face.

“Yeah, I can tell you have someone in mind, come on, who is it? All you gotta do is give me a name.” Mic shook his head and put his thumb over the call button, But for some reason he couldn’t press it.

Mike's head was racing. It all halted when the killer interrupted. “Look, you obviously want someone dead mr “hero”. So I'll make a deal, yeah? I’ll wipe out whoever you want and you will let me go, almost like we never crossed paths, yeah”? He tilted his head and looked up at mic. Who was seriously considering it. The killer almost scoffs at how easy it is to manipulate mic.

“Well?” He tilts his head and looks at him expectantly. Mic completely caved. “I want you to murder this woman named (mothers name) that lives on (address).” The restrained man looks up and smiles. Bingo. “How do you want it done”? He asked. Mic began to smile like a maniac. “I want it to be the most brutal work you’ve ever done.” He laughed and smiled to the point where the killer himself got a little creeped out. He must be losing his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mic sits and waits in his car at the end of your mothers driveway. He stares at his steering wheel. He went through with it, he a “HERO” actually negotiated with a serial killer. It must be done. He thinks to himself. Full on delusion taking over.

He took the restraints off of the killer and negotiated with him. Setting a due date for TONIGHT. No other time or day. Their plan was to let him go to do what needs to be done, and then mic will follow and make sure that the person is actually dead before “officially” setting him free. Mic laughed to himself in the car. God that killer is gullible. He doesn’t actually think mic is gonna let him go does he? His thoughts were interrupted by faint screams. He looks up and can see shadows moving violently behind the window blinds.

Anxiety rises in mic and he begins to look around. Eventually the screams stop, and he steps out of the car making sure no one sees him or is outside.

He straightens himself up and walks over to the front door before opening it. He looks over his shoulder once more before closing the door behind him. Damn this house is a mess. There's blood everywhere. Eventually he reaches her corpse. Yep, definitely dead. He looks over and sees the man sitting at the table drinking sparkling water.

“Alright, you’ve seen her. She's dead. We’re good”? Mic nods his head and squats down to look closer at your mother. “Well I'm off then, it was good knowing ya.” the man gets up from the table and walks over to the door and stops. There was a coat rack. It's raining outside so might as well grab one. He begins sifting through all the coats to pick one out. Unaware that mic is creeping up on him. The man sees a shadow and turns around only to be struck on the head and knocked out.

He wakes up in a moving car. He tries to move but can't. Hes tied to the car seat. “HEY” he looks over and sees mic. “We had a deal, remember.” Mic looked over at him and laughed. In a spine tingling tone he answered. “You don't actually think i was gonna let you go, do you”? He said as he pulled into the police station.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shota and toshi eat peacefully at the table as you yell from upstairs. “You didn't give her pain meds?” toshi asked his fiance while chewing food. Shota scraped his fork on the plate a few times. “Nah, she needs to think about what she’s done.” he answered as he shoveled food onto his fork and ate it. He noticed the uncomfortable look on Toshi's face and looked up at the bandage on his head and pointed with his fork while chewing. “She needs to learn toshi, look at what she did to you.”

Toshi listened to what shota said and he reached a hand up to feel the bandage on his head from being hit earlier. He then remembered the event and agreed with his fiance. So then they continued to eat peacefully as you wailed throughout the house.

As dinner was almost over they heard the locks on the door shifting and eventually a tired worn out mic came through the door. Shota put his fork down and stood up and so did toshi. “Hey” shota said as he walked over to hizashi. “You alright, how was your day?” mic looked at him and smiled. “It was good, it was good,” he said, waving off the two.

Toshi kissed zashi after shota said his greetings. “Come eat with us, I made dinner.” toshi said, gesturing to the dinner table. Mic shook his head. “Nah, I gotta go see y/n, I haven't seen her all day.”

Shota looked over at toshi and gestured to him to go sit back down. Shota then grabbed hizashi’s wrist as he was trying to go see you. “Come eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was peaceful. The food was delicious, and the conversations were fun. Just what mic needed after today. You haven’t wailed in an hour. They think you must have fallen asleep. Good, because shota is silently trying to find a way to break the news to his husband about what he did to you. Hizashi has always been the most emotional of the trio. All he could talk about was you at the table, things like “how is she, did she eat anything today, did she behave” shota and toshi just nodded and laughed along with zashi.

“Did she not come to eat?” zashi asked while chewing.

Sho and toshi looked at each other for a second before looking at zashi. “No she didnt” zashi looked confused. “Well why not, should I check on her?” he asked as he quickly put his fork down and began to stand up. Shota lunged forward quickly and grabbed his husband, sitting him back down. “ you haven’t finished your food baby”. Zashi looked at him confused. “I don't like this, shota what's going on?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“YOU WHAT?!”

You woke up from the sudden scream and lifted your head as you heard running up the stairs. HIzashi came running into your room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you laying there with twisted, swollen ankles. Snot dried on your face, puffy red eyes, and messy hair.

He was mortified. He looked back down at your feet. He’s no doctor but he's pretty sure they aren't supposed to bend that way. Shota and toshi come trailing behind him. You looked at them with tears in your eyes. Your head was pounding and your throat was sore from the wailing.

Hizashi turned towards the men. “How could you?” shota rolled his eyes. “It needed to be done, I already told you what she did. You can't keep being soft on her, that's how shit like this happens. Look at what she did to toshi” he said, pointing to the bandage on his head.

Hizashi walked over to you and brushed the hair out of your face and coddled you. Shota scoffed at his husband's reaction. “If you had just listened to me” , Hizashi looked up in rage. “Get out.” toshi then cut in between the two. “Look I understand-” Hizashi jumped up. “I SAID GET OUT!” toshi stopped and put his hands up and walked out leaving shota still in the room. “You too.” hizashi pointed at him with hurt in his expression. “Hiz-” “NOW” shota was stunned but complied and walked out leaving hizashi with you.

“Its ok, everythings gonna be ok” he said as he slowly began losing his mind. He brushed the hair out of your face and ran to get pain meds and water. Completely avoiding shota as he followed him around the house trying to lecture him about just leaving you alone and that you need to suffer to learn. Hizashi completely ignored him. He grabbed a pair of clothes to change into and other necessities, including a plate of food to feed you.

Hizashi slammed your door in shota’s face and ran over to you. “Here take these”. He said as he gave you pain meds and water. “This is gonna hurt ok”? He said as he grabbed a stack of pillows to elevate your feet on. Wincing at the wails of pain that came from you. “It’s ok, i'm gonna stay right here.” he said as he walked over and grabbed the plate of food that he left on his nightstand and sat down next to you and fed you. After feeding you and putting a blanket over you, he stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed and changed his clothes.

He then got under the covers with you and cuddled you. “It's ok” he said over and over again as he shushed your cries. It was like that until the both of you fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rays of sun beaming from your window caused you to wake up. You look over and see that hizashi has gotten up and straightened the bed back up and cleaned up the dishes from your nightstand. You smell something amazing in the air, but then remembered what happened to you last night and a wave of nausea hits you like a train. You lay your head down and breathe trying to think of anything else while the three men ate breakfast at the table downstairs.

Hizashi is so angry at shota right now it's not even funny. But he still loves him dearly with all of his heart. So he still kisses him on the cheek and serves him breakfast. Hizashi is always the most emotional out of the trio. So it's damn near impossible for him to ever see eye to eye on shota’s discipline. Pretty much like the fun dad and mean mom. So he will never understand the ankle breaking option that shota chose. Hizashi will never agree with shota’s punishments and will never use them on you himself. He hasn’t quite had a change of heart yet, But if you keep it up, he just might.

He kissed shota and toshi before sending them off to work and waving them goodbye from the porch. They wanted to see you before work, but hizashi wouldn’t allow it. Telling them to give it time. After the cars roll off he takes a deep breath and walks back into the house and cleans up their dishes and tries to find ways to forgive shota while washing them. He then took a plate that he made you out of the microwave and headed upstairs with it.

You heard a few knocks on the door before it opened. You look over and see your soon to be husband walk in holding a plate of food and some juice. Long golden hair wrapped in a low bun, green iris’s lighting up behind his glasses, while wearing a tight black shirt that has a rock band on it, and black and red patterned pj pants.

He smiles bright at you and mouths a “hey” at you while he walks towards you quietly. He sets the plate and cup on your nightstand and bends down to help you sit up. He whispers gently to you “good morning”. He rubs your head when you groan in pain. “I got some food for ya, I think you should eat, songbird.” he says while sitting on the side of the bed to then lay a hand on your legs and start rubbing it in a comforting way. “There's a doctor coming over in a few hours to give you a cast and help you with your ankles so they can heal properly. “ he says as he bends over to grab the food off the nightstand table.

He grabs the fork and shovels some food on it. “Say ah” you roll your eyes, but do it anyway. You take the food off of the fork when he puts it in your mouth and chew. It's spicy. He looks at you expectantly and smiles. “Good?” you nod and he's practically beaming. It was boring while you ate. You weren't allowed to watch tv or read any books or even walk in that matter. That's the only thing about this punishment that hizashi can kind of agree on. So he won't let you do any of those things either. He understands that what you did is bad, so he won't let you get away with it completely. Mid meal, Hizashi started ranting about his husband and toshi. The room was too quiet and he thought that you would make a good listener.

You were surprised most of the conversation, chewing slowly and listening closely as mic ranted about them. Learning new things about them and the things that they did, who they are as people. Shota sounded terrifying. How does mic even sleep with him? Is he a victim? The conversation started when he started talking about your ankles, then he started getting riled up and started venting. Then eventually the conversation circled back to the beginning where he was before he trailed off.

He shoveled the last bit of food on the fork and pointed at you. “Fuck what shota thinks, he believes that you shouldn’t wear a cast or get your ankles fixed. He wants you broken. Toshi disagrees with it too, but he's a pussy. He’s scared of shota. Shotas is pretty much the man of the house.” He said while he raised his arm with the fork in it in a mocking way.

He finally put the fork in your mouth before finishing his rant. “Shota’s gonna kill me when he sees the cast on you.” you chew slightly traumatized but alas, you swallow it. “Alrighty then” he says smiling at you while he gathers up the plate and cup and walks out of your room. Leaving you there to think about what he said about the others.

Hizashi will never tell them that he was the reason behind the death of your mother. That will follow him to the grave. As much as he got in shota’s face for what he did to you, He himself did something just as dreadful. He feels like a hypocrite. Even though that woman deserved the worst, she didn't deserve death. No one does. He stands and thinks about that as he washes your dishes. Starting to regret what he did. He’s never killed anyone, honest. But she lit something up in him. He loved you too much for that. Love will make you do some crazy things won't it?

He headed towards the back of the house. There's a big room, a perfect room to make an ‘at home’ recording studio. So he’ll be able to do his third job at home to spend more time with you.

The boxes were already in there filled with everything that the studio needed, and that's how both of your days went. You spent it in bed while he was building his studio. After he finished building his studio, he took a step back and admired his work. Perfect.

The next thing on his ‘to do’ list is to fix the lock from the door you ran out of and put more security on the locks.

He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and took a few sips. “Shit might as well drill all the fucking doors shut.” he thought to himself as he threw his hands up exaggeratingly.

He was in the middle of fixing the lock on the door when he heard a knock at the front door. He dropped the tools and walked through the house while wiping his dirty hands on his pants before he opened the door. It was the doctor. One that hizashi is paying very well to keep his mouth shut about what he sees.

He greeted the doctor and let him in and started working on your ankles. Hizashi decided to go back downstairs and finish the door so he wouldn't hear your yells of pain.

Hizashi fixed the lock and then decided to put more security on the others. He was on his knees at the front door, playing with the lock. “AHEM” hizashi turns around and sees the doctor. “Oh, sorry.” He says as he gets up and opens the door to let him out. He turned around and said “everything is perfectly fine, but from the looks of it, don't let her walk for a few weeks.” hizashi nodded and sparked a 5 minute conversation with him while you laid in bed upstairs crying from everything that you went through and had to go through.

They both laughed and waved goodbye before he came back into the house. He then began walking upstairs to check on you. He opened the door and saw you laying down with tears in your eyes. “Hey what's the matter”? He asked. Oh as if he didnt know. “The doctor gave you cute casts and you're sad?” he said while rubbing them. This is the most frustrating thing ever.

You just ignored him and closed your eyes while he was assuming that the others pissed you off and he was the “good” guy.

“I want to go home,” Hizashi's head snapped up. “What”? You looked at him with rage in your face. “I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME!” He stood up and backed up.

“What, why? After all I do for you? We’re gonna live a good, long, happy life. We’re gonna get some pets, and make babies and have a big happy family here”

He’s honestly really delusional. You sat yourself up and yelled louder. “All you do for me? What did you possibly do to benefit me huh? Huh, Hizashi Yamada?” you screeched. He was losing his mind. He was pacing around the room. Just spiraling every second. You could see it on its face. It was almost enough to make you back down. He might be the softest, but he's the scariest, the most mentally ill. But you kept going. “IM GONNA KILL ALL OF YOU AND BURN YOUR DEAD BODIES AND RUN AW-” Before you could finish he snapped. Turning around and harshly pointing at you “YOU ARE HOME” his face red with rage. You jumped a little from the booming voice. He began to walk closer while still pointing. “YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME? ANYWHERE! THIS IS YOUR HOME NOW SO YOU BETTER FUCKING GET USED TO IT!” he said as he grabbed you harshly and yanked you out of bed. “HEY, HEY” you screamed as he dragged you through the house all the way down to the basement. “NO PLEASE” you screamed as he dragged you down the stairs and into the darkness of the basement. The only light is the open door. He threw you to the ground near a metal pipe and wrapped chains around you. “Please i'll be good, i'm so sorry”

All of your pleas fell on deaf ears as he tightened the chains and yanked on them to make sure that it was tight enough. He then stood up straight and began to walk out. “This is your home. Now think about what you’ve done.” and with that he slammed the door closed. Leaving you in complete cold darkness.

As much as you hate it, believe it or not, this….this is your life now.

#aizawa smut #yandere aizawa #mha #yandere all might #yandere erasermic #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead #all might x reader #yandere mha

305 notes · View notes

sundeathh · 2 years ago

Note

Just three words. ✨ Soft Yandere Aizawa✨

Okay, this one was in my inbox for a very long time. So first of all, sorry for the long delay. Second: before proceeding, please read what I want to tell you: I am not particularly into Yandere narratives. Besides, I had trouble picturing Aizawa's character in this specific scenario because I don't see his character as one that would act as a Yandere. So, I am sorry if this sucks or if it isn't exactly what you asked for. I tried my best to place him into a Yandere narrative without losing his character essence.

Masterlist | NSFW / + 18 only

Pairing: Aizawa × Reader | Words: 2 K

Tags: SFW/NSFW, soft Yandere themes, headcanon.

cw: Stockholm syndrome.

- SFW part -

You caught Aizawa's attention with your unique and powerful quirk. Aizawa becomes fascinated by your abilities as a vigilante and sees your true potential as a hero.

During his patrols, he would frequently encounter you, your paths occasionally crossing as you both maintained the peace and protected others. Aizawa's initial interest in you is sparked mainly by your skill and dedication, further developing into a genuine admiration for your abilities.

His fascination with you would grow more over time, and as an expert in stealth and surveillance, he would subtly observe you from a distance. He would track your routine and patrols, skillfully remaining undetected in the shadows.

Though he kept telling himself that he would meet with you "occasionally," his true intention was to keep a close eye on you, gaining further insight into your personality, strengths, and weaknesses.

And on a fateful day, a villain attack left your quirk temporarily weakened, rendering you vulnerable and unable to defend yourself effectively. So, Aizawa doesn't think twice before intervening, saving you from further harm.

Recognizing your injuries and weakened state, he would then convince you to seek refuge and protection with him, assuring you that he would take care of your wounds.

This accident catalyzes his plan to keep you close. He didn't even need to kidnap you! But, if you had not suffered the attack, though, maybe he would fake one anyway. He would be subtle.

Once you were in Aizawa's custody, he would treat you with surprising gentleness, providing genuine care and ensuring your well-being. He understands the importance of earning your trust and making you feel safe in his presence.

So, he would never restrain you. Instead, Aizawa would keep you locked in a comfortable space, his actions driven by his desire to gain your trust and affection. He is cautious not to cause you unnecessary harm or distress.

However, you would inevitably become resistant to the situation, yearning for freedom and wary of Aizawa's motives.

And he would try his best to respect your boundaries and acknowledge your desire to escape, but he would maintain a firm stance in preventing your departure.

He would make you stay through subtle manipulation and persuasive tactics. He would never use aggressive force, even if you tried to escape aggressively.

He would only erase your quirk and evade your attacks until you were tired of fighting but would never attack you back.

Aizawa would constantly try to balance his desires toward you and your autonomy.

And as time passed, Aizawa's genuine care and occasional displays of vulnerability created a complicated mix of emotions within you. While you may not fully reciprocate his feelings, you begin to recognize a genuine connection and understanding with him.

But tension would inevitably rise as your desire for freedom clashes with Aizawa's determination to keep you close. Anyway, he continues to demonstrate acts of kindness and understanding even when you call him names or tries to attack, only to be left tired again without causing him any scratch.

As he pursues your affection, Aizawa may go out of his way to fulfill your needs and show you a softer side. He would attempt to break down your resistance through carefully thought acts of kindness.

He pays attention to the more discreet details, providing you with your favorite meals, engaging you in conversations about your interests, and even bringing you books or movies you might enjoy; Though these gestures are not grandiose, they display subtle moments of care that eventually begin to form a foundation of trust.

With gestures and conversations, Aizawa allows glimpses of his softer side to shine: During quiet evenings together, he shares stories from his past, revealing vulnerabilities and personal struggles he faced.

He would try to create a space where you felt safe to open up, fostering an environment of mutual understanding and empathy. He would encourage you to voice out your worries and distresses, even though he would get quiet and avoid the topic of letting you go.

Over time, he aimed to create an emotional bond based on trust and shared experiences. Through acts of gentleness and patience, he hoped to impress you and demonstrate his capabilities as a protector and a provider.

Aizawa is patient and aware that your journey toward reciprocating his feelings will take time. He also recognizes the importance of granting you space for self-reflection and growth. So he would do everything you asked: leave you alone, bring you some specific food, not talk to you, or to talk to you, tell you a story, listen to you, anything, except for letting you out.

However, Aizawa is not without his internal struggles. He battles with his conscience, questioning the ethics of his actions. He grapples with the conflict between his genuine care for you; and the fact that your relationship began under non-consensual circumstances.

The turning point in your relationship arrives when you start to see glimpses of Aizawa's vulnerability: He shares his fears, his insecurities, and his past failures, exposing his humanity and flaws.

And it is through these shared vulnerabilities you begin to connect with Aizawa on a deeper level, seeing him as more than just your captor but as a complex individual with genuine emotions.

And as your bond deepens, Aizawa becomes even more attuned to your emotional shifts and moods. He learns to anticipate your needs and provide stability and support. During moments of vulnerability or distress, he offers a comforting presence – allowing you to lean on him for solace and reassurance.

Gradually, your resistance toward him begins to wane, replaced by a complex mix of emotions. You may find yourself drawn to Aizawa's unwavering dedication to making you comfortable and cared for, seeing how the genuine connection you have developed over time.

However, remnants of your initial resistance may linger, reminding you of the complex dynamics that brought you together. Anyway, Aizawa remains committed to maintaining a delicate balance. He respects your autonomy and your desire for freedom, yet he also nurtures your affection for him.

- NSFW part -

He would never sexually touch you without your consent. However, he would indeed stare at you intensely sometimes, but he wouldn't do more than that. And, when you would catch a sigh of him ogling your body, he would immediately turn his vision away with his face bright red.

He admires your body with great appreciation. He would not comment on that for fear of making you uncomfortable, but he frequently wondered what you had under the clothes he provided to you;

He often imagined what it would feel like beneath all those clothes, the skin underneath, and the curve of your waist. His body would ache from wanting more than just that sight.

While he would not allow physical contact, he would fantasize about being able to explore every inch of your body. And so, he would always find ways to sneak glances or peek inside your room.

His mind would wander as he envisioned you naked and spread open for his perusal, feeling aroused at the possibility that he could possess you, even if you weren't aware of it.

In those fantasies, he would gently caress the parts of your body he desired most. Carefully, he would trace each contour, savoring the sensation of feeling your softness in his palms, tracing circles against your inner thighs, lingering over your stomach, chest, and shoulders.

His imagination would then drift off, imagining scenarios where you would finally allow him access to pleasure, and make him feel complete, finally satisfied, leaving him weak and limp.

He often fantasizes about you having sex with him, giving yourself freely as you would take his hands in yours, guiding him through your soft body, kissing him with passion;

When your lips parted, he would eagerly follow you until he could kiss you again. And, when finished, he would pull you into his arms, burying his face into your neck, breathing deeply in your scent.

Then, when you finally started to see him beyond your captor, he would always be surprised by any small show of affection coming from you. For example, he would be speechless if you gave him a simple peck on the cheek.

Or, when you started to smile at him, he would be ecstatic. Sometimes, you would give him a pat on the arm; or maybe a rub on the back when he would open up to you.

And once you saw past his walls and started to develop a mix of feelings toward him: he could tell. You would smile more and look at him differently.

Sometimes he would look at you and smile, knowing that you were starting to have feelings for him because you were changing.

You would not flinch away when he would touch your hand anymore and wouldn't mind if he sat close to you. Sometimes, you would even lean against him when he was around.

The first time you kissed him on the lips was when he was upset with you for wanting your freedom. It was sweet and passionate, conveying a sense of safety and warmth. You wanted him to know that you did want to be free, but you weren't sure if you wanted to leave him anymore. You had started to find comfort in your surroundings while living with Aizawa.

And as time passed, you eventually realized how attractive he seemed to you. You noticed his sharp features, his sharp gaze, his hair, and the curves of his toned body.

You became fascinated with how his eyes would light up when he talked with you. And then, you would find yourself leaning closer, wanting more.

You also got bolder, teasing him as you explore your new boundaries. Your physical intimacy drastically improved as you opened up and trusted him more. He then started taking risks, going further, initiating physical contact, and exploring those new boundaries.

In turn, you enjoyed the new closeness that came with a change in atmosphere, a strange yet good feeling of security and belonging.

It was this sense of closeness that prompted you both into the process of bonding. You slowly became more intimate, and it started to feel natural for the two of you.

One day, when you were enjoying a peaceful evening together, he reached behind you and gently started playing with your strands of hair as you rested your head in his lap.

As he played with them, he brushed against your ear, throat, and collarbone. Then, he stopped. He let out a frustrated sigh before pulling you close and planting small kisses over your cheeks, chin, brow, eyelids, nose, forehead, and mouth. And then you were lost in an instant of pure bliss.

You couldn't remember exactly when it happened. All you knew was that you had only a few moments of clarity and could see what was happening, feeling the heat rising within you.

He would always ask you if he should stop or ask for permission to go further whenever you flinched. But you rarely did that, so he would continue doing whatever pleased the both of you.

He would gently massage your shoulder blades and back. His hands would then hold onto your waist. Sometimes, you would feel his lips on your neck, trailing down, sucking on the sensitive skin, and leaving tiny hickeys.

He liked to mark you, but he would be gentle on how he would do it. He'd start with tiny nips and suckles, then gradually go down until he got close to where he wanted most.

Afterward, he would kiss you harder and deeper, trying and succeeding in eliciting a good reaction from you. The longer he would go on, the hotter you would get.

As time progressed and you became really intimate, he would fuck you with no shame, giving you more pleasure than ever before until you moaned his name. You would gasp and squirm, and he would always ensure you climaxed every. Single. Time.

He would shiver every time he heard you moan his name. He didn't know why, but it always caused a deep excitement in his chest and heart.

He would come undone in seconds as you called out his name. And then he would hold you tight, whispering soothing words as you continued gasping and moaning in delight for a while after.

Eventually, you started to love that sound and how he felt pleasure from just your touch and noises.

And soon, you realized that nothing would prevent you from loving him back.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests & more details!

645 notes · View notes

yndrgrl · 1 year ago

Note

Could u do a aizawa fic pls

you found a new job under yandere! aizawa as a nanny for his cute kid

age gap. quirkless! au. soft! yandere. dom! aizawa

warning: nsfw, stalking, smacking/slapping, slight coercion??, punishment, daddy kink, sir kink, creampie

a/n: yayyy, first request 🥳 idk if you wanted a fluff or spicy fanfic... so i chose spicy haha. also sorry for taking so long, i just started a new job :0

---

it was a chance encounter, you truly believed. your first year of college just came to a close, & now you had too much free time while the money in your bank account was slowly declining. even if you saved as much as possible, you'd still end up spending all of your money then you'd have to dip into your savings account-- something that you didn't want to do.

so that began your search for a job. you used websites, applied in-person. you thought your resume was solid enough to land a job by now. but no. even though they claimed they were desperately hiring, they never hired you. some had the curtesy to at least let you know that they weren't going to go with you; the rest completely ghosted you. from receptionist to substitute teacher to bank teller, they all rejected you.

it was extremely frustrating to go through the interviewing process then you were ultimately rejected. it was as if someone had it out for you.

that chance encounter happened while you were on the phone with your best friend. you sat at a small round table in a cafe you frequent often.

"i just don't get it, jirou!" you exasperated, taking a sip from your drink. you let out a heavy sigh. with how much effort you've put into finding a new job, you should've been paid.

"i'm sure momo's dad has a job for you," the girl on the other line tried to assure. she was on her daily jog, so she was slightly out of breath as she spoke.

with your face propped in your hand, you responded, "we already tried. all the available positions are for people with like, actual degrees or something. besides, we're not close enough for her to make a whole new job for me."

"i'm sure a job will fall right into your lap," jirou said, rustles of clothes being picked up in the phone microphone. in some sort of messed-up irony, she was getting ready for work. the universe just loved toying with you.

you took a breath in to exclaim how much you needed the money, needed a job, when a man pulled out the chair across from your table. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to be rude & eavesdrop," he began, catching your attention.

"sorry jirou, i'll call you back in just a sec," you whispered, then you hung up. "um, sorry, can i help you?" you took mental note of his appearance-- you know, just in case something happens in this very public, very populated cafe.

just by looks, you'd assume he was in his early thirties. his jet black hair was tied into a bun, stray strands framing his face. there were bags under his eyes-- along with a noticeable scar under his left one. though his disheveled appearance, he took care of himself; his stubble was even & maintained. his shirt was tight around his arms & his chest, & you could faintly make out the shape of his muscles. & god, were they big. he was alluring, with that slight smirk of his.

he would've intimidated you, maybe even set off red flags if he didn't have a toddler bouncing on his leg, tugging his hair out of its bun. she bubbled words & strung together incoherent sentences in beg of attention of her dad.

"i apologize again, i really didn't mean to eavesdrop," he repeated. "it's just i couldn't help but overhear you were looking for a job?"

"yes!" you exclaimed, clearing your throat with an embarrassed blush on your face. "i am looking for a job."

"are you interested in being a live-in nanny for my little girl?"

it was a chance encounter, you truly believed.

the job & its perks were almost too perfect, but you're not complaining. you got to move into the basement of his suburban home for free, he would cook you breakfast & make sure the fridge & cabinets were well-stocked. for nearly $25 an hour, you were living the dream.

eri, his -adoptive- daughter, was an absolute gem as well. she was a cheery toddler who loves life. she's not a picky eater, she loves picking out her own outfits, & if you turned off her show, she would pout for a little bit then bounce back for the next activity. never once has she screamed & shouted. she would cling onto her father almost all the time when he was home.

speaking of her father, you learned his name was shota aizawa, so, naturally, you call him mr. aizawa or sir. he would constantly ask you would other things you wanted, not needed. he would take you shopping, calling it a bonus. your living area was decorated, & you didn't even have to pay a dime! there were times where you felt more like a sugar baby than a nanny, in all honesty.

not that you minded. one look at him & you could already feel your heart beat quicken. maybe it was your daddy issues that just scream when you choose a guy you're into, but he was exactly your type. he's protective, yet soft. strong, yet humble.

you thought you hid your crush on him quite well, treating him as though he were any other person. sometimes you felt like he knew you were so utterly attracted to him.

"y/n," he called out, drawing you out of thought.

"u-uh yes sir?" you replied. you were dressed down still as it was the morning. he just finished breakfast & eri was fast asleep, bound to wake up at any moment. it was just the two of you.

"are you okay?" he asked. aizawa awaited for your answer while he plated your breakfast. he always insisted so you learned to let him.

as he walked towards you with your plate, you answered, "yeah, i'm okay."

he set down the plate in front of you from behind. aizawa bent over so his head was leveled with yours. both of his arms encased you, & if it weren't for the back of your chair, you would've been pressed against his chest. "are you sure?" he whispered into your ear. "i'm hear to listen, if you'd let me."

you turned your head to look at him because, somewhere in your strange logic, you thought it would've reduced the tension & made you less embarrassed. it did the opposite.

the tips of your noses touched, his lips only a few centimeters from yours. with half-lidded eyes, the way he looked at you made you quiver. you tried to create space between the two of you, only for your head to meet his arm. centimeters turned to an inch of space. "i-i am okay," you repeated.

"aw, don't lie to me," he said in teasing voice, but you could've been imagining it. "i know it's been hard, tell me about it~" you never would've thought he would have this amount of confidence-- mainly because, if he did, he should've been bringing home loads of women.

"i-i, it's just, um," you stumbled over your words. he had a smirk, amused. his eyes glanced down to your glossy, shaky lips, then back into your doe eyes, just waiting.

"daddy," eri called from the top of the staircase.

"y/n," he whispered.

"y-yes, mr. a-aizawa?"

"eat your food before it gets cold." & with that, he pulled away from you, sauntering upstairs to grab eri. left stunned, you picked at your food.

oh, how you loved telling your friends about how hot your boss is.

after that incident, you had to tell all your friends about it, so, during your guys' weekly, weekend, late night group facetime.

"oh, my god!" uraraka squealed. "you HAVE to tell us more."

"yeah, that's literally so hot," jirou laughed. "see! you found a perfect job."

you had your phone propped against some random bottle as you snuck into the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. another thing about eri is that, once she's asleep, nothing is waking that girl up. as for aizawa, he's usually up doing something else-- which explains the bags under his eyes & his scheduled naps.

while you dumped your noodles into a pot of boiling water, you said into your phone, "i'm not even exaggerating, it was the hottest thing to ever happen to me."

giggles erupted from your phone. "well, to be fair, you haven't had much luck with guys in the past," mina stated. it was true. while you were in high school -& this past year of college- you really didn't connect with any guys.

"maybe the problem was that they were all her age," joked jirou. hysterical laughter followed after. you were bent over, trying to catch your breath.

"that's not true! i could go for guys our age," you tried to defend yourself.

"okay, let's name every single one of your crushes ever," tsu said, her camera angle only showing her eyes.

all the other girls started to spit out whoever they could think of.

"remember keigo? he was like, 2 years older than us," momo said.

"that's not even that bad," you rolled your eyes, stirring your noodles & adding the seasoning packet.

"oh yeah?" jirou challenged, "what about shoto-"

"he's our age!" you cut her off to save yourself the embarrassment. "besides i didn't even like him."

"yeah cuz you liked his DAD," jirou finished, to which even more bowls of laughter erupted. okay, maybe you did have a thing for older guys.

"oh wow, y/n, i didn't know you had a thing for older guys," a voice spoke from behind you. you jumped, letting out a yelp.

your phone blasted all of your friends' laughter until you grabbed your phone & hung up. "o-oh hey, sir," you stuttered out. you hid your phone behind your back as if you were caught doing something wrong. you felt your phone vibrate, your friends begging to be on call again. "how much did you hear?"

"not much," shrugged aizawa as he grabbed a glass cup from the cabinet above you. that's when you realized how warm he was, how flushed his face was, how messy his hair fell. that's when you realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants & a small towel around his neck.

"wh-what are you doing up," you coughed, taking in his physic-- just for a second, of course. veins protruded up his muscular biceps down his forearms. his pecs were in front of your face. they were well-toned. his washboard abs rose with every breath he took. you let yourself quickly -& ever so sneakily- glance downward. smaller veins & a trail of black hair were like arrows, pointing down his sweatpants. you gulped. was it normal to have a bulge that big-

"you know, it's rude to stare, y/n," aizawa whispered in your ear before pulling away. he walked toward the fridge that had a water dispenser attached to the freezer door. "i just need a cup of water after my workout," he answered in his regular voice to her question.

"oh, nice, nice," you said. a tense, awkward silence followed afterwards. "i-i'm sorry, i didnt mean to," you swallowed, "stare."

"right, i'm sure." & with that said, he left upstairs to get ready for bed.

aizawa loved teasing cute, little you. how could he not? your reactions were simply priceless. your face would get pink while you tried desperately to hide your embarrassment. your skittish eyes darted around the room just to avoid eye contact.

you weren't going to speak up because he knew that you "secretly" loved it. you'd probably make some lame excuse to defend yourself. you'd say, "well i'll let it slide just this once because i really need this job." which was the truth, it just wasn't the entire truth. aizawa knew though. he knew how much you craved his closeness.

he loves teasing you, but he's not a monster.

that's why he whispers in your ear, caging you between him & some other surface. he fed into your fantasies while fueling his own.

he thinks about you. all the time. more than you'll ever know.

what you believed to be a chance encounter was -in fact- a calculated, perfectly-executed plan concocted by aizawa. you might've never noticed him until he introduced himself, but you're so eye catching; it was only natural for him to notice you.

at first, he cursed himself to the moon & back for being attracted to someone ten years younger than him. you're only twenty-three, why is he so charmed by you?

determined to find a fault in your character, he learned your daily routine, find your social handles, grasping at anything. he was expecting to find out that maybe you're so much of an alcoholic that you practically live at a bar or that you have eighteen children with twelve different guys. but no, he found nothing terrible about you.

all of your habits he found adorable-- especially the face you make when you're frustrated. he would watch from afar as you grunted & groaned at your laptop screen. the day at the cafe he figured out why you were so upset lately.

that's why he offered you the job, out of the kindness of his heart. no other reason.

he just wanted to make sure that you stay happy & safe, which is why he installed secret cameras in the basement before you moved in.

he loved to tease you. he loved to rile you up.

he'd tease you so badly that you -at the dead of night- spread you legs wide towards the camera & play with yourself with your fingers, moaning desperately for him. all while aizawa watched you.

tonight was different though because, with the money he gave you, you bought yourself something new. tonight, you had a bright pink vibrator stimulate your clit while your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. aizawa was offended, in all honesty. it was almost like you were mocking him.

he could do better than some toy. you should've known that. he was angry, aroused, & ready to make his move.

you were unsuspecting. usually you were hyper-aware of your surroundings when you masterbated, scared of getting caught. however, this was your first time using a vibrator, & god, it felt so good. you've never experienced anything like it before. blood rushed to your ears as you could only listen to the vibrations & your choked-back moans.

aizawa crept down the stairs, into your basement. the floorboards would creak as a warning, but they fell on deaf ears. he opened the door to the basement, sneaking in. the only light that was on was a dimly lit lamp from your room. "ngh, ah." he heard your muffled moans, & his cock twitched in anticipation.

he bursted through the door, making you jump back & pull the closest thing over the bottom half of yourself. "s-sir! i-is something wrong?" you asked in a high-pitched voice as you tried to calm yourself down.

he gave you a glare, & you felt like you were in trouble, preparing for some sort of punishment. even though you didn't do anything wrong, it was him who barged in. "what. the fuck. do you think you're doing?" he seethed, closing the bedroom door. you were exposed, your juices so clearly staining your sheets.

"wh-what are you talking about-"

"don't give me that, y/n. you've been such a bad girl," he growled. aizawa stalked closer towards you as you gulped.

"n-no i haven't, i don't know what you mean, sir," you managed to say, watching him walk to the side of your bed.

"what were you doing then, hm?" he questioned with a mocking smirk. "tell me. i'd hate to do something brash over a misunderstanding."

"i-i was just laying down," you lied. he was standing at the edge of your bed, & you turned towards him. your gaze was met with his aching bulge, & you gushed all over your bed once more. you tried covering up the squelching with a yawn. "i-i'm kinda tired, you know." you were still staring at his crotch, licking your lips subconsciously.

suddenly, his hand shot to your face, his palm covering your mouth while his thumb & middle finger dug into your cheeks. "don't lie to me~ you were touching yourself, weren't you? using a dirty toy while you thought about me, hm?" you tried shaking your head but he grasped harder, making you still. "i said, don't fuckin' lie to me." he made you nod your head yes while you look up into his lusted eyes.

"you're such a bad girl, & you should know that i don't tolerate any kind of bad behavior," he informed, his gaze never breaking away from yours. "i'm going to sit down, & you're going to lay belly-down on my lap, alright, baby?"

you shook your head no once again, embarrassed. you knew that, the moment you would do that, he would catch you. after all, from the waist down, you had no clothing. "no?" he repeated in an almost sing-songy voice. "no?"

it happened so fast. one minute you were disobeying him, the next you were on his lap, just as he wanted. the baggy crop top rode up the arch of your back, & now you were practically naked -ass up- on your boss' lap. you buried your face into your messy duvet. you felt your core leak onto your inner thighs, hoping aizawa didn't notice your arousal. he did though; he loved it.

his fingers stroked your pussy as he slurred, "what a naughty girl, gettin' wet for me. y'know how much older i am, don't ya?"

you nodded your head, dripping onto his fingers.

"& ya still want me?"

you nodded, this time with a small squeak. he pulled your head back with his other hand entangled in your hair. "what was that, baby?"

"y-yes," you whispered out, hyperfixated on his fingers that teased you.

"yes what?"

"yes, i-i want you, sir," you moaned out. his middle finger ghosted over your clit, & you jolted closer to him for more friction.

"aww, you're so cute," he purred as he let go of your hair, allowing you to fall back into your bed. "it's a shame that you were so impatient though," he said with faux pity, "i have to punish you."

"no, please," you whined. "that's not fair!"

"not fair? oh darling, you brought this on yourself," he laughed. aizawa drew his hand away from your aching pussy, much to your dismay. the hand came back down, thrashing your ass cheek. you let out a muffled scream into your blanket as you were pushed forward with his force.

"what's wrong, y/n? can't handle a bit of spanking?"

"n-no! i-i want you... i-inside of me," you stuttered out with a red-tinted cheeks.

"aww, do you?"

you nodded eagerly. he, in response, growled lowly, "you're going to learn your lesson. i don't want to hear anymore whining. you're going to be my good girl, & take it, right?"

you just nodded again.

smack!

"i said, you're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"y-yes, sir!"

smack!

you let out a moan, looking back at him with teary eyes. you wanted an explanation why he spanked you again. you did everything right, didn't you? you were a good girl.

"you didn't apologize."

"i-i'm s-so sorry, daddy," you gasped out, then tried to explain why you called him that. "i-i didn't-"

smack!

"you're going to keep calling me that, right?"

"y-yes, daddy." your ass stung bright red, & you felt the tingling sensation as the blood rushed to your asscheeks. aizawa let his hand graze over you, squeezing you ever so slightly.

"sit up, & look at me, y/n," he commanded in a softer tone than before. mindlessly & eagerly, you sat up onto his lap. one hand gripped on your hip while the other was placed behind your back. you wrapped your arms around his neck to stay sitting up. he leaned in for a kiss, lips pressed against your plush ones. with the hand behind your back, he glided his nails over your back.

his tongue slid over your bottom lip before invading your mouth. you let out a moan as he kissed you. he was the one to pull away, you unconsciously leaned into him for another kiss. you were snapped out of your lust when he dove into your neck, nipping & kissing all over. between hickeys, he whispered, "see? good girls get a reward."

you just let out breathless moans. your arms were still around his neck while he lowered you onto the bed. "baby, i don't ever wanna punish you again," aizawa lied, slipping your crop top over your head before throwing it on the floor. he took of his shirt, chuckling when he saw how pink your ears got. "you know why i had to punish you though, don't you?"

"y-yes, i do, d-daddy," you stuttered out. it was hard to focus while he dragged his tongue over your body. he bit your collarbone, sucked on your tits, kissed down your torso. it was all so distracting.

"why did i have to punish you, y/n?"

"because i-i was p-playing with myself without y-your permission," you told him, sighs in between every word. you don't know how or when your legs were over his shoulders, & you didn't notice until he spoke.

every annunciation blew warm air to your throbbing heat. "such a smart girl, y/n~" he praised, his onyx eyes locking with your doe eyes. you didn't have to say anything, he could tell by your facial expressions how badly you needed him. he kitten-licked your pussy; it was so little, yet you couldn't help but squeak in delight.

"oh, my god," you moaned out, throwing your head back as he began to lap your juices. he groaned as his tongue flicked your clit.

"you taste so fuckin' good, baby," he uttered, diving back for more.

"thank you, daddy," you said, you didn't even know if he still wanted to punish you, but there was a chance that he did, & you didn't want this to stop.

"good girl."

he stimulated your clit with his tongue while three fingers pumped in & out of your hole. he pulled away from your pussy for a second, demanding, "look at me when you cum, got it?"

"yes d-daddy!" you yelled out, self-restraint turning into the opposite. a pressure built inside your core, threatening to pop at any second. you looked down, tears of pleasure & neediness rolling down your pink cheeks. "i-i'm gonna cum. please keep going, i'm gonna cum!" you let out a string of pleads & moans as you came all over aizawa's face.

he stood up, slipping off his pants & boxers. he kicked them away as he towered over you. he was standing on the edge of the bed while you lied with your legs spread. "you want me, y/n? you really want me?" he asked because if you wanted him to stop, he would. if you wanted him to do anything, he'd do it.

"i really want you," you said as sincerely as someone who just climaxed could say anything. "i-i just don't want this to be a one-time thing," you admitted.

he laughed, lining his cock with your entrance as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. "trust me, baby. this is not a one-time thing, i'm so addicted to you, y/n. you don't even know." he finished his short-lived speech by shoving his girthy dick into your cunt, & you remembered just how dominate aizawa was. you let out a scream due to the pain, unexpectedness, & utter pleasure you got all in a single moment.

his thrusts were soft & slow at first. you could feel every inch leave then plunge back into your weeping hole. "d-d-daddy, you're so big," you moaned while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

his pace picked up, hips jerking against you. your tits jiggled with every thrust, claps every time he went back inside you. he abused your sensitive g-spot, ramming himself in & out of you. your hands unraveled themselves around his neck, your nails digging into his muscular back. you let out babbles how you couldn't take it, how you were going stupid, & how you were going to cum. he groaned in response, "if you're saying anything other than daddy or more, shut your fuckin' mouth & take it like a good girl."

"n-ngh, ahhh, yesss daddy," you slurred, eyes rolling to the back of your head. you wanted him to slow down so you could think again, but you liked being mindless, you liked how you didn't have the energy or will power to think about anything in this fucked-up world. all that mattered in that moment was you, aizawa, & how good the two of you felt.

"you're so fuckin' beautiful, baby," he groaned, he couldn't help but compliment you. how could he not? you looked even better pinned under him than he imagined. "so tight for me."

"please let c-cum with me, daddy," you begged. he didn't respond for a second, & you started to doubt yourself.

"wh-where," he groaned out, thrusts becoming rough & sloppy.

"what?"

he was losing composure. "where do you want me to cum?"

"inside," you answered quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist. you felt like you were in control now. "i-i want you inside of me when i cum all over your cock, d-daddy~"

"y/n. don't say stupid shit," he warned, knowing damn well he'd fold in an instant. you kept moaning with every thrust, begging for him to cum.

"p-please~ daddy, i deserve it. i-i've been a good girl," you whimpered. you jutted your bottom lip in a pout & tried to give your best puppy-dog eyes. every thrust he could see you twitch in pleasure, your expression couldn't hide how much you were enjoying this.

"fuckin' brat," he scowled. he watched you as you figured out how much power you truly have over him. he couldn't blame you for extorting it because that's what he did to you. at the end of the day though, you won.

he became sloppy & fast. his cock twitched inside of you when he saw your slutty expression-- tongue hanging out of your mouth, cheeks red, tears running down your face, eyes begging. & it was all because of him, how he fucked you. he was the cause of such a beautiful thing. finally, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep within you, cumming.

whiteness painted your insides while you came around him, clenching his twitching prick. "a-aizawa!" you screamed out in pure ecstasy.

deep breathes, panting, & sighs of content followed afterwards. he slipped out of your gaping hole, his sperm leaking out of your pussy. he climbed into your bed, coddling you. you were still shaky, senses heighten. you placed your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow.

he pulled the covers over the two of you. aizawa said while massaging your scalp, "you okay, baby?"

"mhm," you hummed, "i-i just never been fucked like that before."

he laughed, then kissed the top of your head. "i promise that this won't be the last time, y/n. i'm all yours." though he didn't say it, he was thinking, besides, guys your age won't know what to do with a bad girl like you.

#aizawa x y/n #anime and manga #yandere bnha #bnha x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa headcanons #aizawa x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #aizawa imagine #aizawa smut #mha au #mha #bnha #yandere aizawa #yandere mha

939 notes · View notes

liteyagummy · 4 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)

118 notes · View notes