#yandere bakugou katsuki

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ GN reader

Bakugou doesn't tell people about his home life, so you can imagine the Bakusquad’s utter surprise when they invite themselves over only to find out he has a little omega housewife waiting for him.

“Oh, hello,” you say when the four additional Alphas pour in through the door after your Katsuki.

They all look at you unblinking. The biggest one, a redhead, doesn’t seem all that surprised—as though he’d had some suspicion that’s now been laid to rest. But the other three, an electric blond, a guy with raven hair, plus a woman with cotton candy curls, look at you as if they’d just stumbled upon a mouse in a lion's den—all slightly horrified at the sight of you.

Your alpha, the tightly wound grump seething with annoyance, stomps over to you and plants a quick kiss on your hairline. “They just barged in,” he grumbles under his breath. “Sorry if we scared you.”

You hum calmly in turn, “That’s okay. I heard you yelling in the driveway, so I wasn’t surprised.”

The four members of the Bakusquad are all gobsmacked at the domestic sight—the boss, their boss, their hard-headed macho boss, bending over and apologizing to this little omega half his size.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, peaking over the breadth of his hunched shoulders to the others with a warm smile on your pretty face. “I just finished dinner.”

“No,” Katsuki growls grumpily and winds his arms around you—like an old, tired dog, voice gruff, “Uninvited intruders don’t get my dinner.”

You only giggle it off, brushing his stubble with a soft hand, gently handling him further down to your level so you could place a kiss on his other cheek. “Oh, stop, Katsuki. Be nice to your friends.” 

Then you walk off to the kitchen.

Calling out sweetly over your shoulder, “I went a little overboard, so there’s more than enough for everyone.”

And by god, if they don't fall in love with you right then before they’ve even got a single word out.

But love at first sight isn't all so strange. None of them have ever seen an Omega outside of on film—much less been hit with the scent of one. They're all bewitched and confused at the feeling as they trail after you as if they've been compelled by some higher power.

"Please sit," you smile, gesturing to the long table where only two seats have been made. "Katsuki, hon, help me, please"

They all scoot into each their unplaced seat while your big lousy Alpha begrudgingly helps set the table for the unwanted dinner guests. They remain silent as you serve them like the perfect homemaker—all crimson-cheeked and ashamed at how they sniff after you as you pass them by.

You sit just as brightly despite the awkward tension. "Please, enjoy."

They all obey, eating in utter silence—every single one of them trying hard not to stare—and all failing miserably.

Kaminari's the first to speak, having been left shaken by curiosity he no longer could contain.

"So... did he kidnap you, or?"

It's a fair question to some extent. Omega's are a dime a dozen, all regulated strictly by protective institutions. You can't just find one to mate like in the old days. You need to apply for one and be vetted—not to mention they cost a fortune.

"Denki!" Kirishima whisper-shouts in admonishment, shaking his head from across the table.

"What? I'm I the only one who's thinking it?" he throws his hands up and defends.

Katsuki's fist strains around his fork, but you lay your mit atop his, and he calms down shortly.

“Don't worry, Mitsuki and Masaru made the arrangements and paid the dowry," you giggle, running your hand through your Alpha's ashen hair with fondness in your eyes. "I was a graduation present of sorts. They worried Katsuki wouldn't take care of himself once he started working and thought having a mate might help him with his busy day.”

If Katsuki appreciates you spilling his business like that, he doesn't say anything about it—just continues eating.

Denki sighs and sags in his chair. “I always knew Bakugou’s folks were loaded. How nice...”

Sero grins, “Your jealousy is showing.”

Denki pouts, “I’m not exactly tryna hide it.”

"Yeah..." Mina pipes up. "Can't deny I'm jealous, too."

Sero's grin falls as well with his confession, "Yeah, me neither, actually."

You keep smiling sympathetically, "Well, you're all welcome here—I don't mind the extra company."

"Really?" Denki lights up.

Mina and Sero, too—in awe and in unison, saying, "She's an angel."

"Get yer own," Katsuki grumbles. "Now shut up and finish your food. Then you're leavin'—all of you."

"Oh, come on, man," Denki whines. "Have a little pitty for your fellow Alphas."

"Let's stay respectful, guys," Krishima buds in lightheartedly. "Think about what you're asking."

Then, rethinking the conversation, the other three all realized how it had sounded, even though they hadn't meant it that way. And they all blush even darker than before.

And still, you just smile—alphas are all so cute.

Especially your hyper-protective one.

♡ prequel ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[animeyanderelover]

The way of an aggressive yet very loving househusband

Tw: Yandere themes, obsession, possessive behavior, overprotective behavior, aggression but not in the way you may think, darling has periods, abduction, this is no poly relationship by the way

Can I just say that Bakugou and Barou are basically the same type of a Yandere almost down to the tee? A type which I have decided to call the aggressive househusband.

Think about it. Both are really intimidating and scary and I wouldn't hold it against you if you would be very scared of them the first time. You see how Bakugou constantly yells at people and glares at them with his red eyes. You see how Barou completely annihilates people on the field as if this was more than just a sport and notice how he towers over anyone who annoys him off whilst glaring at them with his red eyes.

So you when you are abducted you genuinely believe the worst is going to happen. That you'll be stuck with a violent and aggressive man obsessed with you who will physically harm you and beat you up.

Only for none of that to happen.

Obviously he isn't happy to see you being so scared of him. Yes, he isn't going to deny that he is maybe a tad bit scary but you're acting like he's going to undo his belt at any moment and give you a goddamn whipping.

However, despite him being quite offended that you would put him in the same category as a fucking abuser he knows that he has to give you his patience right now. Acting right into any stereotypes you have already out him into would only harm his reputation more.

He speaks quieter and tries to sound less harsh when he's talking to you. He bends down so that both of you are on the same height or he sits down somewhere so that he is actually looking up at you whilst you are looking down on him. He gives you your space. Yes, he still checks in on you because he is considerate and not fucking stupid but he doesn't invade your privacy.

His aggressive side resurfaces as soon as chores are involved but in a way you would have never expected. He is a bloody perfectionist and no matter how you clean your room, wipe the tables or vacuum-clean the floor, you somehow never do it right. There is always something that he has to criticise. There is a spot on the mirror left from when you brushed your teeth. You forgot to clean under that little gap of your wardrobe. You didn't fold your shirts right.

The list goes on.

He doesn't hit you though and yells at you that you never do stuff right and that you're useless. No, instead he guides you promptly to the bedroom, pushes you into the mattress and just bluntly tells you that you can just watch one of the 10+ Streaming Sides he pays for whilst he is going to properly clean the goddamn house. And whilst you are sitting in bed, slightly perplexed by what just happened, he is mopping the floor and mutters occasionally about how he can't believe that you can't even clean properly. That's fine though. He can do that for you.

He cooks for you. Every day. Without fail. He hates when you go out and eat some junk food. Sure, he is guilty of eating it once in a while too but it is different when it comes to you. You shouldn't enjoy greasy and unhealthy food unless it is his greasy and unhealthy food that he has prepared for you. Don't expect him to cook you that stuff every day though. He will cook nutritious and healthy food for you and you better eat what he serves or he will be very mad and grumble about it for the entire rest of the day.

You want to go an a diet? Don't even dare to attempt any bullshit diet a beauty influencer on Instagram, YouTube or other social platforms has recommended. He happens to know the one or other thing about a diet that is actually healthy and still tastes good.

You want to try a new dish? Write him down the groceries he needs and he's the next evening in the kitchen, all ingredients tidily placed in front of him as he reads the recipe through before he starts to prepare the dish.

If you want juice he is not buying the bottles but the fruits themselves and prepares fresh juice for you. If it's orange juice you want he just squeezes every last drop out with his bare fists before he serves it in a glass to you. He generally keeps a lot of fruits and vegetables in his fridge because he likes to prepare randomly a small bowl for you so that you consume your vitamins and minerals.

You, who has lived a humble life the first twenty-something years of your life, always look at price tags when something catches your eye and as soon as you notice a number far too high with what you're comfortable to spend you just turn around.

Case closed.

Or maybe not.

Because in the next moment your lover is dragging you into the store with him, grabs whatever it is that caught your eye and then asks you with a scowl on his face if there is anything else that you would like since the two of you are already in here. Do not let yourself be mislead by that scowl on his face. What he really means to say to you is "if there is anything else you want just fucking grab it because I have the money". Honestly, who do you think is he earning all his money for nowadays?

Taxes and all other paperwork is something he mainly does. You are free to help if you insist but be aware that he is most likely going to complain about something again because there is always something he can nag about.

You never have to worry about running out of pads or tampons because he always keeps those shelves filled. As soon as you're down one package a new one magically appears the next day. He's not one of those guys who feels embarrassed about buying this stuff for you. I mean, who is going to make fun of him? Most people are in general far too scared to comment about it when they see him standing in line with packages of pads in his basket.

He ensures that you have all your needed doctor appointments. A general health check. A visit at your gynaecologist. A visit at the dentist. All of that at least twice a year so that he can see it through that something is treated the moment it is spotted.

When you're sick he is the best person to take care of you. He doesn't judge you for your terrible mood, the coughs, the sneezes or other symptoms you may experience. However, he is going to bully the spoon of medicine in your mouth, is going to monitor you to see it through that you consume your tablet and will carry you right back to bed and wrap you up as soon as you attempt to do something when you should rest instead.

Scary dog privilege is real with him just as much as the saying "my girl can wear whatever the fuck she wants because I can fight". It doesn't matter at which time in which location you are at, absolutely no one is getting to you with him by your side.

As soon as he notices someone giving you a weird look or oogling at you suggestively? Then it's up to you to cling to his torso as he drags you with him, red eyes promising a burial. Luckily you manage to be a voice of reason and stop him from potentially committing a crime in public.

You realise that you have severely misjudged him. Apparently you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

[lady-ashfade]

Can I place an order of Blueberry Pie with Villain Class 1-A. Please and Thank You.

Broken Shoes

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Villain!Au!Class 1A x College!Waiter!Reader. (Reader doesn’t have pronouns in this)

WORDS: 2.1k

WARNINGS: Yandere!Behaviors, Everyone is in their 20s, Posted Late, Dark!Romance, Reader Is Just From America But Any Race, Villan Au, Non-Quirk Au, Is the reader is claimed any pronouns tell me so I can fix it.

Bakery event.

A/N: I got a idea from the requester of what they wanted since it has taken me so long, thankful so much for them!!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🫐 🥧 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

The first incident was when your shoe feel apart on your way home, the bottom coming undo and looked and sounded like a flip flop. It was rough because they had been your shoes for years, they had to give up sometime. But you didn’t have enough money to pay for a new pair. The only thrift store was a long ways away from where you live and you’d never have the extra money for train ride. So you did what you could…And tried to make it work again. With glue and your sewing kit and then had something to last you a few more weeks.

You set up a new jar in your kitchen by the window, next to the bigger blue jar with the labeled “computer”, while this one was pink and for shoes. You worked at a shitty diner in Japan, a American experience which was perfect since you moved here in your late teen years from the US. The day belonged to collage classes for you’re own business degree to work in more places and maybe start a chain of your own. And after you worked as long as you could to make it through life.

“Mornin’,” you greet your manager. The older woman smiled as she took the rag and whipped off the white counter, the lights from the screens hitting her back to make her pink outfit pop. Hana was the nicest woman you ever met, she was shorter then you with a plump body, her age showing in her skin but her face remained chubby and almost wrinkle free. After any day you had, you knew her warm smile could make you feel better.

While helping around you both chatted about your day and how it went, her more leaning towards your story while making short answers for her day. So, you told her all about school and even some things you learned and studied before customers began the walk through the doors, one after the other and so forth. The conversation died and you did your job.

“Enjoy your evening!” You shout as the last pair of people leave and you lock the doors behind them before exhaling as your body grows tired. The night had come to a end as the moon stood in the darken sky to shine just a bit of light on the streets. Not like they need it with the street lights and building lights.

“Hana, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You shout. Making your way to the bathroom your feet drag as the night hits you like a ton of bricks. The rush hour today was busier then it had been in a few weeks.

Hana was in the back to punch in all the things that happened while taking the money out of the cash register to count it. Her eyes trailed up to the metal door where the trashcans stayed after someone had knocked. It wasn’t un normal to her since she gave a few homeless people food when there was some left over, so she figured it would be them. Her feet took her to the door and her fingers unlocked the handle, before pushing it open with a bright smile.

“Kenji, how can I help you?” She spoke to nothing but air.

Hana blinked her eyes a few times before realizing no one was there, not a person in sight just a empty alleyway. Now this was strange. The knocking was loud and had to be made intentionally. The one thing that made sense of it was when she looked down there was a box with a bow.

Hana brought it to the main room and set it on the counter, just in time for you to exit the bathroom with a sour look on your face. “You got a present.” She exclaimed.

As you examined the box you saw a card attached,

“To: Y/n.

Hope you can find this helpful, thank you for the amazing service.”

The first thought you had was, who could have sent it, before even opening the box. There was a older couple who commented on your shoes but they didn’t seem like the type, and a man in a suit also had his opinions on your attire though he seemed too stingy for that. But you stopped thinking to see what was inside and hoped it wasn’t to grand.

When your eyes hit the shoes they widened a bit, they were perfect. They didn’t look too expensive but brand new with no stains on them or nothing. They looked good to work in, to jog, and to do anything you wanted.

“I bet it was that yellow haired man,” Hana commented out of the blue. You turn your head and tilted it to the side, who was she talking about? You’ve seen so many customers with yellow hair…

“Don’t give me that look dear. The cute one who always stares at you, and never complains and has you talking for hours.” you blink a few times before placing a face to the scenario.

Denki? Yeah, you think that’s his name. He always comes in every other Thursday with the same order, same questions and never wants you to leave his table. He was a sweet man, but flirtatious and sometimes you think you’ve seen him before but never have a clue. Today he came in just as before, made a few flirty jokes that you played along to, and had to rush off since it was a full diner.

“Hmm, maybe. I’ll just have to wait and see if they reveal themselves.” You hummed before going back to cleaning.

That wasn’t the only time random gifts showed up.

Each couple of weeks a new one popped up out of the blue. You’d be in the library and looking of books to help your course studies but find non, or even looking them up on the computer and find out they are too expensive to buy on your own. Then, they show up where you sit each day in classes. No one would look your way, no one was suspicious. It wasn’t just school things, but it was the things you see in windows. You’d see something pretty, look at it and imagining wearing it, then walk away knowing your wallet couldn’t handle it. Your house started to be filled with things you didn’t even buy.

Weeks of things being left you started to grow more and more worried, things you didn’t speak about. And things arriving at your door step. The last thing that made you freak out completely was a computer, the best money could buy and the note made you break. “Ditch the jar, we’ve got it covered.” Who the hell knew about the jars you had? No one did, not even Hana knew because you knew she’d give you money. Someone knew where you lived- someone sent a gifted, someone looked into your apartment or went in to see the jars.

“We’ve got it covered.” Those words stuck into your head every day after.

The blinds to your apartment now remind closed, you took the money you were saving for a computer and got extra locks for your windows. And you never took the gifts that arrived anymore. If it was at class, you’d leave them, if they came to your door you’d say they got the wrong person, if it came to your work the dumpster ate it.

Soon the gifts came to a stop. Nothing show up anymore and you felt relief, like you could breath without worrying about being watched. You stoped looking around the place for suspicious activity, your life went back to normal — Shitty, but normal.

Just as you suspected — Things went wrong for the last time.

Nosies woke you up from sleep, you had been too tired to notice anything or actually think about your actions. So you went out of your bedroom towards the noise, no plan, no worries about your life, but tired and wanting it to end. So as you turn the corner of the hall you hear hushed voices.

“Dumbass— Shut up, you’re making too much noise.” Someone, with a deeper and more grit to their voice spoke. They sounded angry…Like a man you once met on a bus.

Someone whined in response. “Don’t be mean to him Kacchan, and you’re being equally as loud. Now, everyone quiet and lets get our darling and head out.” That voice was strange to you, it was high pitched and loving but there was something else to it.

A little bit of awakening hit you and you started to look around the hall for anything of use. Wait, everyone? — That means there are more people then the two who spoke. The only thing you had that you could hit somebody with was a umbrella but you had to make do.

So, you grab ahold of the handle and hold it like a bat, then go sprinting to the doorway and popping out to surprise who ever was there.

You probably should have thought of more threatening words….

“I don’t have much!! If you’re here to rob me you’ve chosen poorly, but if anyone touches my computer you’re dying.” and like that, you point at the people in front of your umbrella-bat.

Your mind acted so quickly that it just took in everyone standing in front of you. People you have met before. The man from the train with a darken snarl that’s the same.. Denki, the guy who flirts with you at work. Another man who is always nice and friendly when he enters your work, Izuku?

“Hey honey!” A squealing voice takes your widen eyes off the green haired man. The woman who spoke was someone who you’ve talk to at school, one of the pretty girls that sit below you, Mina Ashido.

“Wha… What are you all doing in my apartment?” Your arms held up the umbrella and body still stiffened and alert.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t here to hurt you,” Izuku smiles and walks aloug your kitchen table, “and definitely not here to rob you, most of your things, expensive things, came from us.” he slides the computer along the table towards you. It started to make a bit of sense of how you’ve been getting everything.

Denki and Izuku know where you worked and gave you the shoes, they had both been in the diner that day. Mina had given you the books you looked at in the library and saw were too expensive. And the mean blonde had saw were you get off of the bus. They must have all been following you.

“What do you want then?” You backed away from them. Your eyebrows frown and arms began to tremble in heightened fear and adrenaline of your life being threatened.

“We want you, sweet thing,” the rough one spoke and the nickname sounded strange from his mouth. “The question is,” he stepped closer as your inched backwards, starting a game of chase.

“Are you gonna’ make this easy or not?”

You hummed in fear of what’s to come and wanted to run. Your body was almost about to move before a warm hand covered your mouth and made you scream and wiggle against the chest that was pressed against your back.

“I told you not to bring weapons,” the person behind you snapped at the others, making them all roll their eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt them!” Mina shouted.

“The gun was for looks, had to look badass for my babe.” Denki smirked.

“I wouldn’t hurt them badly, my knife would only stab their horrible neighbors.” Izuku laughed.

“And why would I listen to you, old man?”

A sharp pain in your neck shot throughout your body as your limbs began to numb up almost immediately. Your vocal cords wouldn’t make any sound when you wanted to scream, your legs couldn’t run, there was no fighting back. All you could do was keep your eyes open for as long as you could while being picked up.

A older man had you placed in his arms. Dark long hair with gray at the roots, the same for his beard. He looked tired but deadly with the glare he gave them. You knew this man. He was a teacher in the lecture room beside yours, the same man you greeted each morning — The man you served coffee to on Saturday mornings.

“You know damn well what I’ll do if you hurt them, if anyone of you spoiled brats hurt them.” His voice started to get drowned out by ringing in your ears. You wanted to listen and to stay away but your eyes just felt too heavy to go on….

There wasn’t just five of them waiting for you to wake up again, but 20 villains going insane for you.

[ghostsy]

Smile For the Camera

WARNINGS: yandere, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, abuse of power, slight codependency, non-consensual implications, implied nsfw, implied forced pregnancy, lot of implications lol

A/N: been sitting in the drafts for a while, figured i should get smth out, hopefully it's alright ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Her eyes are up there, creep.”

She had to resist the urge to sigh, lip twisting in slight pity, watching the boy stammer out an apology as he fumbled with the mic at her chest. She scoffed internally. Was he supposed to put it on blindfolded? She turned to her lover, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile.

It’s okay. I’m okay.

Crimson irises met her own, hesitating a bit as his jaw tightened reflexively. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes, and turned to the host who was shuffling through her cue cards. Memorizing her lines, it seemed.

“I don’t want any of that surprise shit, alright?” His voice was laced with the sort of irritation that would normally send her on full alert. They were in public right now, though, and callous, gruff reputation aside, he was no idiot, “We’ll walk out; I’m not fuckin’ kidding, we’ve done it before.”

The host laughed out his name–his hero name–nervously, “Of course not, sir. All of our questions were sent to your assistant for prior approval,” As she caught his unimpressed stare, she stumbled out another placation, “But, I mean–Of course, if you–you’re more than welcome to look over them again, sir.”

“Fuckin’ stop it with that–‘sir’--makes me feel old as shit.” Did it? That was news to her. He certainly liked it when it came from her lips. Her mind wandered to its most recent recollection. When she was forced to her knees, his hand at the back of her neck, pooling the tears from her eyes at the dip where her cheek met the pillow–she couldn’t remember what she’d done wrong that time. 

Where he’d brought his lips to her ear,  C’mon, voice rough and deep, Ask me nicely, now, And, raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, Please, sir. He huffed out an ugly laugh, Please give me your cock, sir. God, she hadn’t been able to walk straight for days, legs and dignity sore and bruised from the abuse–only one of which ever really seemed to recover.

“Of course, si–Of course. We’re on in–We’ll be ready in five, if that’s alright?” He gave the woman a curt nod, and she’d shuffled off to the stage to prepare, calling the intern tending to her to follow, a direction the boy took with palpable relief, eyes brushing her own apologetically before he hurried off.

“Hey,” The blonde’s attention was turned back to her, and he stalked forward, “Last one, alright?” He brought his hand to her cheek in comfort, though all she could think of was the ease at which he could snap her neck between his fingers without so much as blinking.

She shook herself from her thoughts, humming, and brought her hand to cup his own, leaning into his touch. “It’s alright,” At least I’m outside, she wanted to say, “Long as I’m with you, I’m alright.”

His eyes softened at her answer, and he opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed, catching his attention. His hand dropped to catch her own, lacing their fingers together, tightening with tension. She had to resist the urge to wince. Though entirely different in circumstance, she felt slight vindication for his fear, no matter how fleeting. She’d take what little wins she could get. 

She was pulled back to reality by the tug of his hand, and let him lead her to the couch across from the host. Fuck. Looking out at the crowd, she remembered how much she really did hate these things. Hundreds of smiling faces, millions more behind the camera, all glinting with pity–for all the wrong reasons–and cooing at the sickeningly sweet story spun for the masses to cling to with glee, without question.

There was a call of her name, “And, how are you adjusting? After what you’ve been through,” What she’s been through. She suppressed a bitter laugh. As if it was all over, as if she was safe. 

“It’s been hard, of course,” She’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror, and recited variations in numerous interviews before, “But I’m so grateful, you know,” That didn’t stop the tears that fought their way up her throat, “To have him by my side–he really is–he really,” God, the words felt like acid on her tongue, “He really is my hero.”

The crowd awed, and the host brought a hand to her chest, “How beautiful,” She caught his side eye–suspicious–and she squeezed his hand in reassurance, “The two of you–really the silver lining in an otherwise horrible happenstance.”

She laughed lightly, ignoring the burn in her chest, “I’m so grateful. I don’t know what–I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him.” She moved to wrap her arm around his own, leaning into his shoulder. Time had conditioned the contact to feel like a sort of comfort.

The host smiled, and turned back to ask him a question, something about how he’d found her, how he’d saved her.

How had he found her? She remembered meeting him a few times before–she’d worked for the number one hero, his childhood friend–and he’d never spared her more than a cursory glance, and the exchange of brief, formal pleasantries while she sat in on their meetings, transcribing, taking notes, just doing her job. 

“Was just doin’ my job,” Ha. Ironic. “S’what heroes do.” He looked at her for a moment, softly, and she wanted to tear his eyes out, “We save people and we fuckin’ win.” He gave his signature sharp, crooked smile, and the audience roared to life, hands clapping in misguided awe and appreciation.

How had he found her? What did she have that the millions of men and women and people that wanted him–that dreamed of him–didn’t? She wished she could erase it–tear out whatever part of her had captured his attention–maybe he’d have left her alone if she’d been able to kill it.

“The determination, the grit it must’ve taken,” The host started up again, “Years of searching, it’s truly amazing how you managed to save her.” 

How had he saved her? He liked to remind her that that’s what he had done. She remembered being called into work late–a normal occurrence, but she still cursed herself for obliging that day–being met, not by her boss, but him. Maybe she would have said yes if he’d gone about it differently–if he’d taken her out on a date, brought her flowers, spoke to her softly and gently–but he wasn’t ever soft, and he wasn’t ever gentle.

“M’not a fuckin’ pussy, that’s how. I ain’t backin’ down from a challenge just ‘cause it’s hard.” Yeah. He never backed down from a challenge. Though, he never stopped to think that maybe a challenge was not a dare, not something to overcome, that maybe the challenge didn’t want to be a challenge at all. That this challenge didn’t want to be a conquest, that she wanted to be a person.

“And you,” The attention was back on her, “How strong you are,” She hated that look; everyone she met these days gave her that look, “The fear and pain you must’ve endured is unimaginable.” Well, she was half right, she supposed. 

She was stupid to think she knew pain before–she didn’t know pain–not the kind of pain she’d come to call home these past years. The type of pain that came in the form of finger shaped burns, and ugly sticky white staining the inside of her thighs. The type of pain that was loud and angry and all consuming, that bruised her hips, rubbed her throat raw, left her aching and shaking and breaking. The type of pain that took and took and took until there was nothing left of her to give–and yet, still took more.

“Hopefully there’s some consolation,” The woman continued at her silence, “That the people who did this to you–who imprisoned you–have faced justice.”

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. She’d long been disillusioned with the idea of justice. Justice. Ha. What a joke. She’d made her peace with the hand she’d been dealt. Resigned herself to what cruel fate the god she didn’t believe in had bestowed upon her. Why then, why now, had he graced her with a window to her prison? She knew why. Subconsciously, her hand fell to trace along her stomach.

“It’s…relieving, to say the least.” She forced a laugh, and caught a look she took as approval on her warden’s face. “All I want to do now is settle down, move on…” She swallowed. Come on. You’ve done this a million times. “Start our family.”

He took his arm from her grip to wrap around her shoulders, flashing a sharp smile, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Her cheeks heated–more from annoyance than embarrassment–but the crowd awed all the same. “Strongest damn person I’ve ever met.”

Strong? That was a new one. Usually she’d get the opposite; weak, helpless, quirkless. Was she strong? She could find a million reasons to contradict the idea. Someone strong would’ve fought, would’ve kicked and screamed and cried until someone–anyone–listened to her, until she truly was free. She’d rolled over and shown her belly so easily, hadn’t she?

No. She did fight. She’d gone through all the kicking and screaming and crying she could. But the years had worn her down. She found it was easier–and less painful–to let him have his way. He could be soft when he had his way; he could be gentle when he had his way; she decided she liked it when he was soft and gentle. And so, he had his way.

Still. Someone, not her, could make the case that she couldn’t be strong at all, to go along with this farce. And to this person she’d point them to–

“The Hero Commission truly is an outstanding institution,” The universe had a sick sense of humor, didn’t it? “To keep a case like this–no leads–open so long,” The host smiled a smile with too many teeth, “We are so lucky to have the protection from such noble leaders.”

He replied, something about heroes and how great and strong and infallible they were. She was too busy fantasizing about how lovely the world would’ve been had it been turned to ash and dust all those years ago. 

Because, honestly. How bad could the villains be? If it was a hero that had imprisoned her. A hero who had stolen her from her life and raped her and impregnated her all in the name of love. How bad could the villains be if it was the heroes who kept her trapped in this joke of a life? She decided she liked villains more than heroes. At the very least, they owned up to their crimes. 

She turned to look at him, his sharp features, built like a tank, and yet, still entirely too pretty for the devastation he had wrought upon her. She couldn’t tell if he was a hero or a villain. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or if she loved him. 

“I ain’t into all that sappy shit,” He started, “But, end of the day, I’m the luckiest fucker in the world havin’ her here with me. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Both? Maybe it was both. Could you hate someone you loved? Could you love someone you hated? He lifted his arm to ruffle her hair, and she decided it didn’t matter. She’d long resigned herself to this fate; what was another resignation?

“No,” She turned as the audience roared to life, “Not a single thing.”

And she smiled for the camera.

[ttodorokiii]

The taste on your tongue (m)

synopsis. he’s a possessive person, you should know better.

the request: Hi hiii!! Your works are so interesting t read! I badly wanna read about Bakugo watching Y/N play valorant or any games similar to valorant with their friends and he hears you say "hey, (friend name) if you clutch, I'll suck your dick!" But Y/n only said it as a joke and then their friend actually clutched and she bursted out laughing along with her friends but after that, Bakugo forces you suck his own cock until he cums, telling you that she should say that to him and him only before he also fucks her stupid

warnings: possessive!bakugou, crude language, slut-shaming, degradation, oral sex (m!receiving), kissing, biting, mentions of blood, dom!bakugou, mentions of moaning, he’s such a dirty talker damn. mdni.

note. send asks? ENJOY, not edited. ❤️❤️

Maybe you shouldn’t have pissed him off so much.

Bakugou was a jealous man, he was territorial with you, but you’d never thought that a joke would get him so mad.

“Fuck! Your slutty little mouth is a sin of its own!”

He growls, your eyes are filled with hot tears, you can’t see him clearly, your knees hurt but he’s merciless. He is shoving it deeper into your throat and you can’t do anything but to swallow.

The air supply is short, “you only suck my dick!” He is being so cruel to you right now.

All you did was joke about sucking your friend off, while you now get was inappropriate, especially if you have a boyfriend, a very possessive boyfriend.

Bakugou loves you, very fucking much.

But he doesn’t get jokes, you love him very much too, he’s the only man you’ll ever love. you both have very opposite personalities.

But there is one big similarity between the two of you.

You both don’t watch your mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so fuckin’ good, I-I’m gonna cum..” he moans, you inhale a sharp breath, your jaw hurts, but he feels so good.

You want to make it up to him.

“Fuck fuck fuck… ‘m so close, make me cum yn.” Bakugou buries your face deeper into his crotch, by grabbing your hair and forcing it.

“My fuckin whore. Only mine.” He glance up at him, your hair is mess, your mouth is a mess and you can feel him shaking now, he’s turning into a mess too.

And you’re ready to take it.

All of him.

“Your fuckin’ pretty mouth is mine to fuck as I wish! Fuckin’ mine,” you can feel him bucking his hips, he’s close.

You feel close too.

‘M gonna fuck your mouth full, you wan’it baby don’t’ya?” Bakugous tone is sickly sweet, “mhmm..” you barely reply.

“My good ba-baby fuck take it all.”

You feel him spilling all over your face, you swallow like a good girl, you want him to forgive you and you’ll do anything.

“Ye-Yeah babe, jus’like that, fuck….” He exhales a loud moan, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Bakugou immediately picks your body up, grabbing your face by force and kissing you fiercely, his tongue is exploring every inch of your mouth.

“‘love you so much.” He moans once again into your lips, tasting himself.

“That’s the only taste that should be in your mouth.” He licks your lip and his teeth graze your lips, he bites it hard, you whine as the pain is too strong.

“How fuckin dare you say that to him?” He stops kissing you, you cry out as you watch a string of blood connecting your lips, his hands don’t give you a break though, travelling into your panties as he grabs and cups,

His fingers are cold on your burning core, your breath hitches when you feel him tease you, “he can’t fuck you though right, princess?”

“Y-Yes, katsu!” You bite the inside of your cheek, he’s such a tease.

“now I’m gonna fuck your brains out until the name you remember is mine.”

[justauthoring]

redamancy [2/3]

*redamancy: the act of loving in return.

a/n: guess what olivia’s updating a year laterrrrrrr

word count: 2,878

warnings: honestly, this is basically yandere bakugou... heavy dubious content, implied sexual content, restraints, violence towards reader, bakugou is mean :(, villain!bakugou

part one!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

You wake with a headache.

Your vision is blurred, the sudden bright light you find yourself faced with makes the headache worse as you try to adjust. First instinct is to sit up, a groan leaving your lips as you do, only then noticing just how soft whatever you’re on is. Your body sinks into it with every movement, and part of you doesn’t even want to get up.

Besides the headache, you’re not sure you’ve ever been this comfortable.

I didn’t want it to be this way.

But then you remember and everything snaps with a start.

You sit up straight, eyes cracking open with a gasp of fear as a flash of Bakugou flickers into your mind and you’re reminded of what had happened. Of how you’d seen Bakugou for the first time in years, how he’d apparently been waiting for you for all those years, and most importantly how he’d knocked you out and basically kidnapped you.

With a quick glance around, you realize you must be in his bedroom. It was painfully plain in decoration but completely clean; not a single thing misplaced or a spec to be seen. The sight almost brings a smile to your lips, remembering how you used to tease him back in your Academy days how he refused to ever leave his room a mess. It brings you back to simpler times, a wishful memory that you wish you could slip into if anything just to escape from this.

From what’s happened.

Shoto. That’s right. You’d tried to call him right before Bakugou slipped the clothe over your mouth. A quick glance around you tells you your phone isn’t anywhere near you, and it isn’t in your robe that you’d been left in.

Of course he wouldn’t leave your phone with you.

It probably wouldn’t work either—he’d smashed it right before you’d fallen unconscious.

Slipping your legs over, there’s an odd weight attached to your ankle, something black crossing your vision briefly before you blink, focusing on your left ankle. 

“What the—!”

Reaching forward, your eyes practically bulge out of your head at the large, clunky cuff around your ankle. It swallows it completely, and having worked in the hero industry for a few years now, you knew exactly what that cuff meant. Quirk-cancelling. Clearly, Bakugou didn’t trust you not to not try and escape (which, to his defense, you obviously would) and had taken the necessary precautions to eliminate that risk.

The same thing you’ve done with villains plenty of times.

Bending your knee, you pull your ankle towards you, pushing your fingers against the cuff and in between your leg, despite how it strains uncomfortably, trying to use what strength you had to pry the cuff off. It was useless, and of course you knew that—they were designed to not be able to be broken off so easily.

(Given that it would be a huge product malfunction if the villains you caught could easily just... break through them.)

“Asshole,” you hiss under your breath. It wasn’t just the fact that this meant your chances of escaping (which were already limited) were ten times harder, but the fact that this left you (also) ten times more vulnerable.

There had been a point in your life, depsite his loud and rash behaviour, you’d been certain Bakugou would never hurt you. Even when he yelled and got angry, he never got angry at you. Maybe it was the soulmate thing, or maybe it was more, you weren’t sure. You’d just known that no matter what, Bakugou would never hurt you.

And up until now, you’ve never doubted that.

But now?

Now you weren’t sure.

You haven’t seen Bakugou in three years, and the weeks before his disappearance had been weird and strained.

You had no idea who Bakugou was now, and with the ever-present factor that he was a villain? Well, that left you even more unsure. Not to mention, he’d kidnapped you! Put quirk-cancelling cuffs on you so you wouldn’t be able to fight back...

It was a sense of vulnerability you’ve not experienced. Even if you’d known Bakugou was stronger, you’ve faced strong villains before and came out the other side—why? Because you had your quirk. Because you were a hero. 

Now... Now you were no different than the civilians that fell prey to evil villains.

Letting out a light curse, you let your leg fall, taking in what you’re wearing. With a fearful swallow, you realize it isn’t what you’d been wearing when Bakugou had taken you. The silk robe you’d covered yourself in was gone and the cute pajama set of shorts and button up is replaced by a thin nightgown. The whole dress is held up by thin straps, that purposefully hang low, and the dress ends short, reaching just below your bum.

It wasn’t like before everything Bakugou hadn’t seen you. Hadn’t been with you. You both were young and inexperienced, but you’d once dressed yourself up in clothes just like this for him because you’d known he’d liked the sight.

Three years of being apart that and the fact that he’s a villain leaves you more than uncomfortable in such vulnerable clothing.

Not to mention he must’ve undressed you himself and put this on—an extreme invasion of privacy and a purposeful act to have you wearing something demure and delicant... all for him.

The sound of a door slamming shut pulls you from your thoughts and you leap to your feet, fear racing through your entire body. Your eyes snap towards the door to the bedroom door, hearing footsteps grow closer and closer. It was no doubt Bakugou. For all the information you had managed to gather on him, you knew he was working solo.

Bakugou wasn’t the type to take help from others. Being a villain didn’t change that.

As the footsteps grow closer, you’re hit with a sudden realization—where can you hide?

Your eyes snap around the room, peeling for any sort of hiding spot or escape, but you come up empty. It seems Bakugou very meticulously thought out your capture. There was a closet but the doors had been taken off, and the only other piece of furniture you could hide in was the bed, but that wouldn’t get your very far.

You opt for placing yourself as far away from the door as possible, curled into the corner with the lamp you’d found on the nightstand held protectively before you.

A second later, the door is opening.

Bakugou’s head peers in first, eyes glancing from corner to corner until they settle on your own. You force back the whimper that threatens to escape. No. You had to be strong.

As strong as you could be.

He steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him and you don’t miss the way his fingers work quick to lock the door behind him. (Shit.) The second the lock clicks, his eyes fall on back on you, smirking.

“You do realize that won’t do much, right?” He asks, hand loosely gesturing towards the lamp in your hands. Your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re holding it, but your hands also violently shake, flinching when he even just takes a step towards you. “I’m the world’s strongest villain and you think a lamp is gonna hurt?”

It hurts the way he sounds so proud.

“Ba-Bakugou—!”

He’s in front of you in a flash. You blink and he’s there, imposing and intimidating, simply pulling the lamp from your hands and setting it down beside him all without looking away or giving you any space. 

He’s closer than he’s been in years (or, at least, since he kidnapped you—) and it physically hurts. Your heart still yearns for him and your body reacts without your consent, aching for him and his touch despite how much you want to pull away.

Despite how much your mind screams at you not to.

His hand reaches forward, and you flinch, but then he’s grabbing you by the chin and tilting your gaze up to his.

“Katsuki.” He whispers, voice husky. “That’s my name.”

You shake your head still in his grasp.

He leans close, and Bakugou’s always been naturally warm so you feel it envelope you like a hug. Your body reacts, shivers running down your back, feeling exposed and practically naked as he presses his lips to the edge of your jaw.

“Katsuki,” he repeats, voice a mere murmur. “Say it.”

You let out a dejected whine; “...no.”

His free hand falls on you, grasping at your waist, eliciting a gasp from your lips as your entire body tightens, tensing underneath his familiar touch.

“Say it.” He growls, voice harsher than it had been before.

You want to give in. Your heart and your body and you ache for him... You have for three years. Dreamt about him, thought about him... wanted him. He was your soulmate, your other half—the one you were intended to spend the rest of your life with.

But—but...

“They say he killed... just under twenty civilians in his last raid. Brutally murdered them. Some of the bodies are still beind identified. Y/N... Bakugou isn’t who you think he is anymore.”

“—no!” 

The element of surprise allows you to successfull shove Bakugou off of you, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, a wild, panicked look in your eyes as you stare back at him. To your credit, he looks shocked even if briefly, before his faze hardens.

He moves towards you, “Y/N—”

But you step away, almost tripping over your own feet as you push yourself off the wall and try to create more distance between the both of you.

“No,” you repeat, desperate. “No... You kidnapped me! Put a quirk-cancelling cuff on me...” Feeling your eyes water, you find your grip on your strength wavering as all of it comes rushing to you, making you feel sick, making you feel like you can’t breathe. “You’ve killed and hurt so many people! Countless of innocents. You... You left me!”

“Y/N—!”

“I hate you!”

That gets him to stop. He halts, suddenly, body turning rigid and you blink, not realizing until a second later just what you said.

There’s a brief moment of complete silence. Neither of you say or do anything, just meeting each other’s gaze from across the room, your words hanging tensely in the air.

And then your feet move before you even realize, body turning sharply as you practically leap towards the door, hands reaching for the lock to the try to get the door open. Hands wrap around you just as the tips of your fingers reach the doorknob, a cry leaving your lips as you’re tugged back, lifted off your feet and then you’re thrown, weightless in the air before your back hits the bed, body bouncing in response.

You don’t have time to get up because Bakugou is faster.

It’s a wrestle of strength that you have no hope of winning as Bakugou grabs both of your wrists, pulling them up and over your head before pressing them against the bed. You can’t see what he’s doing, his chest in front of your face while his legs keep you pinned to the bed and then there’s something cold wrapping around both of your wrists and the distinct sound of something clicking echoes into the silence.

Bakugou pulls back but continues to straddle you, as you glance up, tugging on your arms when you realize he’s cuffed your wrists to the headboard of the bed.

“Wha—!”

Your chin is grabbed, head yanked until you’re facing Bakugou once again who leans over you. 

“You can’t hate me,” he hisses, and you try to ignore the fear at the sound of his barely concealed threat. “I’m your soulmate.”

“Ba—... Katsuki,” you whisper, afraid. Terrified, even. “I... please, don’t do this.”

“This is your fault,” he huffs, letting go of your face. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt twice but you’ve forced my hand. This is your life now. You’re mine... so you better get used to it.”

You inhale sharply. “I wanted to be with you! Don’t you understand that!”

Bakugou blinks, lips parting. 

“I was ready to give up everything for you! You left!” You’re inconsolable. Terrified, sobs wretching from your as you lay beneath Bakugou, restrained and helpless. “I searched for you everyday for the past three years! But you never let me find you... I wanted—I want to be with you but you’ve... hurt so many people.”

Bakugou leans forward again, but this time he’s gentle. His hands cup your cheeks, touch light as he shakes his head. “I did it all for you...” He whispers, eyes pleading for you to understand. “I did it so we could be together.”

You swallow thickly, shaking. “We were together...”

“You don’t understand,” he begs. “That... Deku... all of them! They wanted to keep us apart...”

Eyes widening, you pause.

“That’s what I was fighting with Deku about that day when I left... He wanted to keep us apart... said that he and shitty-hair and icy-hot—all of them would never let me be near you again.” He’s caressing your cheek, brushing back hair that had fallen in your face in the midst of everything. “So I had to leave... I didn’t want to leave you but I had to get stronger... So that one day we could be together and no one could keep us apart.”

Your lips part, trying to find your voice. That... That doesn’t make sense.

“But they... Why would they?”

“Have they left your side since that day?” Bakugou asks, shaking his head. “Have they surrounded you? I’ve seen you... with them. Together. All the time...”

“But... But it was never like tha—“

“Here. I’ll walk you home. It’s not safe for you alone out at night and I wouldn’t be much a man if I let such a pretty lady like you walk home alone.”

“Y/N-chan! Let’s have lunch together, my treat.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it for you, okay? You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

But...But—

All the touches, all the smiles and the help and...

Oh... Oh God...

Blinking, you turn to Bakguou. He’s watching you, closely, eyes never faltering, watching as the realization sinks in.

“But the... don’t they have a soul—“

“It’s just us, baby,” Bakugou whispers, voice gentle, warm. “Have you ever seen a name on them? Anywhere?”

You pause, thinking. And the answer comes quick. No.

You shake your head.

“You and me are special,” he explains, and you instinctively lean into his touch, unaware. “We’re made for each other. The only two in the whole world, you see? Just you and me. You’re mine and they tried to take you from me.”

“I...” Your voice fades, confused and baffled. 

But Bakugou’s never lied to you before and you don’t think just being a villain changes that... And he was right. Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima have hardly left you alone in the past three years, one of them was always by your side. Sometimes it was just to talk or help or do things for you... You’d always thought it was just friendly, but when you really thought about it...

It couldn’t be, could it?

That was... those were things Bakugou had done for you. Thing you’d wanted him to do for you.

“I didn’t know.”

Bakugou shushes, brushing away the tears you barely realized where still falling. “It’s okay,” he soothes, “you couldn’t have. They made you confused and tried to take you from me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you but I had to get stronger, you see, so I can protect you. Protect us.”

You meet his eyes and you realize the look in his eyes is the looking you’ve been yearning for for the past three years.

None of what Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima did for you had mattered because they weren’t Bakugou. They weren’t who you wanted. They weren’t your soulmate.

You nod, smiling a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice shaking slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he eases away your worries. 

You nudge at his hand, trying to lean up towards him. “I missed you so much, Katsuki...” You whisper, voice a whine. “I wanted you so bad... I missed your touch and your warmth and the way you made me feel...”

Bakugou oblidges, leaning towards you. “Me too, baby. So much.”

You instinctively move to touch him, only to be held back. “Ugh... Katsuki, I want to touch you.”

His hands move to your waist, keeping you pinned to the spot. “Not yet, baby. Your mind is still a jumbled mess. I’ll let you go but I have to make sure, okay?” You whine, moving to shake your hand but his grip pinches and your eyes fly to his, seeing the hardened look in his eyes.

Slowly, you nod; “okay...”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, Katsuki,” you smile, “but... but please... I need you.”

And he smiles, wide and grinning, and you’re too dazed to notice the sinister look in his eyes as he laughs lightly; “oh, don’t worry, I plan to, baby.”

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE BAKUGOU KATSUKI HEADCANONS

1. He is like the LOWKEY term for POSSESSIVENESS no doubt about that all right. If you ever so much as take even a GLANCE at someone else, they're gonna be saying sayonara to the world in less than 5 minutes. This sadistic pomeranian takes immense pleasure in burning people till the extent that their limbs become like hot and molten goo 

2. With love rivals, he is fond of torturing that person and makes sure that they actually BEG for death, no joke. That's his way of proving that there's only ONE person who is important in your life and that's him. Anyone else will be dead

3. He might act like a huge jerkwad but he's a TOTAL SUCKER when it comes to fueling up his GOD DAMN ego which is so LARGE that it has stretch marks. He will be floating in the universe with glee if you ever call him your 'hero' and 'my saviour' 

4. And once you're done feeding his abnormal large ego, this man will certainly pamper you, like ALOT. Don't even THINK of refusing his gifts or you'll have some ash to clean up and some wounds and burns on your body to clean as well 

5. Even if he kidnapped you, he will actually cuddle with you and gently rub your back and stroke your hair lovingly at times when you're REALLY hurt, like after he's done using you as his personal punching bag for taking out his anger 

6. It's best if you're just obedient to this man since he's actually really clever. And if you DO manage to escape, run as FAR as you can and PRAY that he won't come looking for you, but the chances of you getting your old life back again are like, 0.0001 percent really since he's a strong hero in training and he can use his connections around with his friends to come find you. Don't be surprised if he has a few connections with villains as well 

7. Punishment: Some of the punishments include torturing people right in front of you and him reminding you that it's YOUR fault that people are dying and he will take out his anger on you by hitting you and all that. But the afterwards he will eventually give in and feel bad and will cuddle with you and make sure you feel better

8. This dude will not admit this EVER but he actually NEEDS you to be with him. And because of his crazy obsession with you, he tends to get overly protective of you, and if someone messes with you, let's just say that they won't ever see the daylight again. If you were planning to be a pro hero when you grow up, sorry to tell you this, but..... you're going to have to let GO of that dream or Katsuki will MAKE you let go of your dream

9. He LOVES showing you how strong he can be and he wants you to depend on him and NEED him for everything in your life and all that. He might be cruel, but remember: He's doing this ALL for YOU, so just give in to him. It's better to be loved by him than get hurt and burnt by him everyday 

''Oh, you and I are going to have so much fun teddy bear~..."

[allbimyself65]

Yandere Naga Bakugou x reader

This one's kinda all over the place and the ends abrupt but I still hope you enjoy first time writing smut so enjoy!

Yandere Naga Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Yandere, rape/noncon, overall bakugou’s an ass

Word Count:1790

When you were a little old you decided it would be a good idea to go camping in the woods alone after seeing some influencer do it you were definitely wrong. First of all you didn’t even like the woods of nature for that matter. So why you decided to do this was a mystery. 

You’re already not having a great time so imagine your horror when you see the 8ft tall monster that is naga bakugou. On top of it he’s severely pissed of at some dumb human messing up his terratory. As a pension he was originally going to kill you,but after seeing how cute you are he decided to integrate a little further to see if you’re suited for a certain role he has open.

“What are you doing here you dumbass human?” he shouts more aggressively than ever needed.

You’re shaking like a leaf and he’s only said a sentence at this point god had abandoned ship there’s nobody to help you. The only thing keeping you together is that you’re hoping you can string two and two brain cells together to make a coherent sentence and convince him not to souffle you.

“I-I’m just wanted to go camping but, uh-well-um it’s not really suited for me. I'm not exactly great at this whole um nature and defense thing so I’ll leave and never come back if you just let me go.” Your fumbling over your words at this point wondering how you’re still breathing after that stupid comment about you being defensless and how idiotic you must be to admit that to something that clearly already considers you an appetizer.

Bakugou was already sold on you after you admitted how you couldn’t really defend yourself, he knew almost nothing about humans but that didn't matter they were close enough in species. He thought the batting of your eyelashes and the quiver of your pouting lips made you look absolutely adorable to him. Perfect as a mate for him to care for and breed. So he didn’t want you fighting on the way home or knowing how to get out of the forest in case you somehow got the fucking smart idea to try and escape him. So he lunged at you and bit you with a small amount of venom to knock you out.

When you woke up you were traumatized to say the least. Waking up in a bed made of flowers in a weird cave. You looked around and recognized the snake man from yesterday. Your brain jumped and latched onto the thought that he was going to eat you so you slid off the bed very carefully and went towards the light and what you assumed was the entrance towards the cave. Of course as soon as you put your feet on the ground with a light thump, Bakugou heard and immediately woke up from his nap on the rocks he was sunbathing in. Slowly slithering and standing up with a drowsy look on his face he went up towards you and mumbled

“Going to get food, dumbass , try and escape I’ll hunt you down and drag you back myself so sit down in the nest and if you move your ass if mine got it?” he said getting angrier at the thought of you leaving the nest. While he said this he was gently picking you up and putting you back in the heaps of picture perfect hand woven flower bla=nkets and you now understood why celebrities sometimes had their pillows filled with flower petals.

“Y-yes I’ll stay put” With that threat blazing in your mind you decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go back to sleep in the bed or nest as he called it. Laying down and cocooning into the blankets you slowly drifted off to sleep. At least this time you thought it was willingly and not forced.

Bakugou returned with the food and looked at your sleeping form and was very smug to say the least. Looking at your tiny cuddling and being so submissive to his demands made his pride spike higher than he would’ve liked to admit.

“Hey human wake up I brought food” with the little knowledge he had of humans he understood they could eat fruit so he brought them some and pushed it towards you. Rating most of your meal in silence even though you had a million questions in your mind you choose one of the simplest ones and blurted out.

“What's your name?” he swiveled from where he was eating and looked at you and shouted 

“Bakugou katsuki dumbass now don’t go fucking forgettin’ it you hear me” you nodded quickly

“I’m Y/N L/N” you replied quickly eager to get answers from you other questions

“So why am I here and when are you letting me go?” you spoke this time with a little more need and want in your voice from the desperation of not knowing the answers to this question.

Bakugou let out a sigh before saying,

“You’re here because you’re my mate and that’s non-negotiable. You don’t get a choice if you're too small and too weak to fight off anything yourself so that means I have to take care of you.” Mentally slapping yourself for those comments earlier you felt rage boil in your bones for the audacity to take you because he didn’t think you weren't capable enough and made you seeth.

“Now listen here you weird ass snake I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and don’t forget now thank you for the meal I’m leaving go find another mate.” you said more confidently than you’ve ever been in any of your past talks.

“NO you’re staying” he said yelling at impossible loudness.

“Yes I am” you said fully confident with that tone you reminded yourself of your parents scolding you pride surged within you from the confidence and you began walking away what you didn’t expect was to be yanked on over next to bakugou by his tail and into his arms.

“You’re staying my little mate and I don’t care what you think about it, you're mine” he said scathingly now, getting angered at your defiance and wishing for your previous submission. What you did next was unthinkable, and undoubtably stupid. You slapped him. Big mistake.

“Little mate you realize now how big of shit you’re in as punishment for you being a brat I’m going to fuck the living day lights out of you.” he said while picking you up and throwing you on the nest.

“Wait! No, no, no please! No!,” you spoke voice became panicked as he began to strip you”I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry please stop!” you were blubbering out now as he  got impatient and ripped off your clothes. Then in silence you saw his cock. Big, thick, and long you panicked you couldn’t imagine that fitting inside you. Hell you didn’t want it inside you in the first place. Bakugou took two of his fingers lined up against your puffy pussy while saying “Going to make you regret that my little brat, gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.” He pushed his fingers in making them in a scissoring motion before putting in a third then started pumping in and out his long fingers hitting things you’re stubby ones could never. You couldn’t help it, you were moaning like a bitch in heat, everything felt too hot, and it was all too soon. Deciding he was pleased with how he stretched you he lined up with a long veiny cock and pushed in the tip making a scream erupt from you. He ignored you begging to stop and pushed in further until finally he bottomed out on you. MAking you feel like you were stuffed and to be honest you were stuffed full of bakugou;s cock. He pulled out and then pushed back in slowly as if doing a test drive. He smirked at your form. He muttered. 

“Going to make you my best breeding bitch, a proper little whore for her mate” he said with a glint of excitement in his eyes as he watched you squirm at the embarrassing words and you absolutely needed him. The self restraint you had gone and none you needed bakugou dick inside you everything feeling empty and  hot but not hot enough.Bakugou being the observant man he is takes advantage of this pushing in quickly hitting a sweet spot and making you moan and obscurely lude moan. He pulled all the way out.

“C’mon my little slut begged for me to fill my fat cock in your tight little pussy.” he said arousal clear in his every being.

“P-please I need your fat cock please! Fill me, make me yours, I'm yours, your mate just please fill me!” you begged with every word more shame filled your body as the embarrassment would be too much later. At this point though you didn’t care, want and need overtook pride at this point. Seemingly satisfied with your answer he slammed into you staring at a brutal pace. You couldn’t see anything but stars and white. Everything falling out of your mouth was incoherent and not even you knew what you were trying to say with moans falling out of your mouth as bakugou ridiculously huge cock made you feel like a drunk whore. He was also having a god time milking you pussy for every drop it had while saying things at this point turned you on even more like “Fuck yeah bay come one let that tight pussy squeeze aroudn my dick” He would occasionalyl slap you to have him quench around you more that or he was reminding you why you got this punishment in the first pplace. With yours and his orgasm approaching faster than a bullet train you moaned out.

“Bakugou please let me cum need it! Need i so bad!Please let me cum!” happy with your begging and groveling he replied “Go on baby cum around my dick.” which you happily complied with screaming while you did so. Bakugou came after with a groan shooting thick hot ropes of come that painted you quenching pussy walls. He was still fucking you while your orgasm happened and you couldn’t feel anything except white hot pleasure. This went on for two more rounds before bakugou eventually became tired. He looked down truly taking in your fucked out face and knew how truly helpless you were. Well it’s a good thing you had bakugou as a mate now wasn’t it.

[adabird]

Jealous Katsuki is the best Katsuki.. He wraps his hands around your waist, kissing at your ear, before pushing you deeper into his chest.. He moves his hands up the side of your body, keeping you in place before his whisky breath started to fan across your cheek.. “You wanna tell me why that man had his hand on your arm earlier?”.. “I hated the way you giggled.. I thought that giggle was reserved for me”. He said, before his bottom lip jutted out, giving you a cute pout. You rolled your eyes before saying “Kats, that was my cousin”. He paused, watching the image from the corner of your eye as he stared at you bewildered, pout still prominent on his face before replying. “You still love me right?”

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines. 

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be. 

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.” 

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[gamblersdoll]

thinking about ex boyfriend! bakugou who is so fucking smug because he was your first and doesnt ever leave you alone… smut included.

an: this shouldnt have taken all day, but today was pretty shit. 😀

you roll onto your right side, feeling the vibration of your phone buzzing. it unlocks looking at your face identifying, and you groan in annoyance. “hello?”

“mornin’ , sleepin’ slut. bad night with the new guy?” you recognize the voice, bakugou. “just wasn’t doin’ nothin’ for you, huh?” he laughs a little bit, a sigh afterwards.

“do you realize what fucking time it is?” you ask, squinting to look at the white numbers in the corner. “it two fifty three in the goddamn morning.”

“and i bet he’s gone by now, isnt he?” katsuki asks, an expectant huff.

“who?” you ask, almost damn near impersonating a actual owl. “because i dont know who the fuck you’re referring to. ive been at home all day.”

“yer’ new little boy toy. i knew youd whore yourself out to make me jealous.” he says, biting his lip when he heard you starting to argue back and get loud. “yeah? im fuckin wrong?”

“very much so, very slow at that.”

“i mean, we wouldnt be here had you not gotten ‘fed up.’” he reminds, biting his lip and tugging at his hero pants when you scoff. “all we gotta do is get back together and y’know..”

“yes, lets get back together mr.dynamight who liked to get an attitude when things dont go his way or will purposely lie about shit to make me jealous, i love you.” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“really?” he asks, a hand groping himself when he waits for your answer.

“no.” you say, pressing the end call button and tossing the phone into the laundry hamper. sleep was good when you didnt have an ex boyfriend calling you in the buttfuck hours of the morning, but he pestered you more. you obviously hear his calls going to voice mail, but its good that the ringer turned off when you threw it.

‘one new voicemail. should i play?’ the fax machine asks, replying with a ‘sure.’ out of pity, was the pussy that good he was obsessed? or was he desperate?

‘you know you want me back, princess.. just call me back and show me how much you miss me.’

yeah fuckin right.

you listen closer, hearing heavy breathing and… slick? was this fucker only booty calling you at fucking three in the morning for this? is that why he called you?

‘not just callin’ ya because im horny or nothin.. but god, do i miss seeing you.’ as soon as you thought the worst. ‘miss seein’ yer pretty face.. or seeing the dumb shit you send me at work.’

you ponder on his words… but had he not been a bit of an asshole, you wouldnt be here. all of this was because he wanted you jealous, and ended up you spitting in his face then leaving.

‘need ta tell ya somethin anyway..’ he mumbles, a groan from his lips. you knew what he was doing, it slightly turned you on. ‘never slept with her.. just lied so you can show me how you can be crazy ‘bout me.. it was stupid.’

yeah, it was. who the fuck lies about that?

‘miss you so damn bad..’ he says, probably pre nut clarity. he moans a little bit, heavy breathing from him stroking his fat cock. ‘cmon baby, talk to me.’

and an idea pops in your head, you finding some really old photo of you and izuku.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Toxic boyfriend Bakugo who demands photos from you every 30 minutes when you go out with friends, as proof that you didn’t lie about where you were and with whom you were going. 

And you can bet that he zooms every single pixel of the frame, squinting his eyes as he thoroughly analyzes everyone present in the picture, to be sure that it’s indeed your friends.

And God forbid if he catches so much as a blurry sight of someone that resembles a guy (even if it’s just a random man that happened to walk near your group when you took the photo)

Because you’ll be up for an exhausting interrogation the moment Bakugo catches that.

[ghostsy]

Let's Get Physical

WARNINGS: yandere, stalking, possessiveness, nsfw, dub/noncon, non-consenual implications, toxic relationship, implied imprisonment, misogyny, manipulation, gaslighting, depression, anxiety

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Fuck–you tryna break my damn fingers off?” 

“Don’t be a baby. Besides, shouldn’t you be used to this by now?” She rolled her eyes playfully, smiling as her hands worked at his own, stretching his fingers backwards, and pressed her thumbs to his palm.

“Quit grinnin’, creep.” He sat cross-legged in front of her on the floor of his home gym, studying her as she worked. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and she stifled a smirk when he hissed. “Are you sure you even know what a grin is? Can’t say I’ve ever seen you give one.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Still, a smile tugged at his lips, “Y’know, this could constitute abuse of power.”

“It’s called physical therapy, you manchild.” She placed his hand down on his thigh, and picked up the other to start her work, fingers massaging across the palm.

He puffed out his cheeks, “It’s called torture,” Grumbling as he averted his gaze.

“It’s called, Mr. Big Strong Number Two went and snapped his tendons tryna blow up an entire villain army by himself.”

“That’s a funny way a’ sayin’ thank you.”

“If I recall correctly, you were thanked plenty three months ago–when it happened–if your popularity numbers are any indication.” She caught sight of the twist at his lips, and gave a soft smile. “But, I suppose I can stand to add another. Thank you.”

He coughed awkwardly, red dusting his cheeks, “Yeah. Whatever.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, the occasional grunt and hiss interrupting, but not disrupting the peace. She placed his hand down, and went to sort through her gym bag on the floor beside them.

Pulling out a stretch band, she wrapped it around his fingers. He knew the drill by now, and as he began to stretch, brows furrowed as he strained, she let out a happy giggle.

“See! You can hold about three inches further; you’re getting better. Just a few more sessions with me, and a healing quirk can do the rest!” She clapped her hands together, and though he felt like screaming in frustration at the effort it took, when he caught sight of the glimmer in her eyes, he softened, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t go expectin’ a five star Yelp review or somethin’ now.” She caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes, and a sly smile spread on her lips.

“Weren’t you banned from Yelp after–”

“Shut the fuck up.” Though, the look on his face told her he wasn’t too torn up about the jab.

And the comfortable silence resumed as the clock ticked by. He couldn’t remember when this had become familiar–when she had become familiar.

But he was sure that had he been forced to spend three months straight with any other stranger–or friend, for that matter–he would have thrown himself and them from his penthouse window by now. 

As they went through the motions, some easier than others with his…injury, he found himself sneaking glances at her face. He noticed a lot about her in these past months. Her nose always twitched whenever she’d present him a new technique to try; he’d chalked it up to nerves–cute–cute, that she thought to be nervous, as if he’d fail, he corrected himself. 

And right now, with her shoulders swaying back and forth to an inaudible song as she watched him stretch, he noted comfort, content. Her head bobbed with the motions––little thing never could sit still, could she?--and he found himself fighting a smile. Though, it fell pretty quickly when he saw her glance at the wall clock, and fumble to stuff her equipment into her bag.

“Oh my god, it’s late–I should–Good work today!” She gathered her things, and his brows furrowed as he watched her. There was a twist in his chest as he saw her scramble–where was she going in such a hurry?

“Where ya goin’?” He never was great at poker, but he still cursed himself for the way she furrowed her brows, catching the irritated edge in his voice.

She sighed, brushing it off as his usual grumpiness, “As lovely company as you are, it’s well past our time, and I have another appointment in the morning.”

“Since when?” Logically he knew that he couldn’t be her only client, but to hear her say it ground his nerves. After all, he was sure that it had been just the two of them for a while now.

“It’s always one injury or another. Y’know, for a job that means helping others, you heroes are pretty shit at taking care of yourselves.” She giggled, and while the sound eased his nerves, there was a nagging at the back of his mind.

“Hey, you eaten yet?” He trailed after her into the foyer, and a part of his brain mocked him for how pathetic he must sound–him, of all people, begging some quirkless nobody–no, not nobody, but still–begging her to stay.

She paused, turning to glance at him; a sheepish look washed over her face as she huffed an embarrassed chuckle, hand reaching to scratch at the back of her head. His eyes narrowed, but as he went to take her bag from her shoulder, she pulled from his grip.

“I’m sure I can grab a granola bar or something from the convenience store on my block, don’t worry about–”

“Fuckin’ dumbass, now who’s shit at takin’ care a’ themselves?” He ignored the knit in her brow, and moved towards the kitchen, “I got tons of shit leftover. Sit. Eat.”

She sighed, and brushed him off with another chuckle, “Maybe another time. I really should get some sleep. And so should you–rest helps the healing process. I’ll see you in a few days.”

He watched her for a beat, before deciding. He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. See ya.”

She flashed a smile and a little wave before heading out the door. He waited for a bit after it clicked shut, watching the hands tick by on the clock.

One minute. 

Two.

 Five. 

He shuffled towards his closet, throwing an old hoodie over his head with minimal strain. This isn’t creepy. He reminded himself. Idiot’s gonna get herself killed walkin’ home this late.

His face heated as he pulled up the hood. Wearin’ those spandex shorts–honestly, she was lucky he was a fuckin’ gentleman. He huffed, and headed for the door, following after her with the confidence of a man who had done so too many times before.

.♡.

“Damn, I’m jealous, if I knew all it took for some alone time with a bitch that hot was to snap my tendons–”

“Don’t be fucking gross.” He scoffed, shoving the other blonde, eyebrow twitching at the shit-eating grin his friend flashed. Maybe this was a bad idea; he scanned the men around the breakroom table–fuck, he shoulda just figured it out himself.

The other man raised his hands in mock surrender, “All I’m sayin’, bro, is if I were you, I’d a’ made a move the second a piece of ass that sweet walked itself through my door.” He turned back to the udon in front of him, digging in, broth splashing messily across his face.

He scrunched his nose in disgust, “Yeah, well I ain’t you. I’m not jumpin’ in the pants of the first bitch who opens ‘er legs for me.” He played with his own chopsticks, frustrated with the dismissal.

“Good thing too,” The raven haired man laughed, “Sparky over here’s probably got every disease in the book with the holes he sticks his dick in.” He tossed an arm around the other blonde, whose face twisted in mock hurt. 

“Least I can get it wet, Tape Boy.” The two shoved at each other, laughing, but the click of a tongue brought his attention to the unamused redhead at the end of the table.

“But she isn’t just another hole,” The shark-toothed man’s lip twisted at the last word, “This is the first time you’ve actually liked a chick. You should–”

“Who the fuck says I like her?” One glance at the unimpressed look from his friend had his face heat as he coughed, averting his gaze.

“You haven’t said shit since the incident,” The man began, “And the first thing we hear from you about the whole thing is if we know your physical therapist.”

“She works with heroes; sue me for thinkin’ you idiots might a’ met or somethin’.”

“Okay, but why are you askin’ about her schedule?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shoving his chair back, “Forget it.” As he went to leave, the other two men jeered.

“Aww, come back! Embrace the feelings, bro!”

“Beautiful. Our little boy’s growin’ up!”

.♡.

He stormed into his office, huffing. Fuck it. If he was gonna be here, he might as well get some paperwork done. He collapsed in his chair, head to his hands as he groaned. The sound of the door opening caught his attention.

“You really need to stop stormin’ outta places before people can respond.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the redhead, and turned to shuffle through the mass of papers on his desk. 

“Yeah, well Tweedle Dumb and Dumber needa learn to keep their damn mouths shut.”

“Ah. They don’t mean any harm,” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Locker room talk, y’know?”

He scoffed, “What do you want?” Mood soured, his patience was running thin.

“I think I know that client you were talkin’ about–the appointment she had today.”

Now that caught his interest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But yer not gonna like the answer.”

.♡.

Bang! Bang!

“Oi, open up.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“I know you’re here, you bastard. Open the fuck up!”

BANG! BA–

“It’s five in the morning. I was asleep.” The man in question responded as the door creaked open, his red and white hair mussed, and sticking up in odd places.

He rubbed at his eyes, meeting the other’s gaze, much too intense for five in the morning–though, did the word calm ever really exist in the ash blonde’s vocabulary? 

“You break any bones? Strain a muscle? What? ‘Cause from here I can’t see shit wrong with you.”

“I’m confused. Should ‘shit be wrong with me?’” Jesus fucking Christ. He wanted to rip his hair out; there was obtuse, and then there was just plain annoying. In the years he’d known this man, he’d managed to toe the line perfectly. A talent, truly.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “You wouldn’t be hangin’ around my woman if it wasn’t…or you tellin’ me there’s another reason she’s been showin’ up at your door?”

“You have a woman?”

Are you fucking kid–

“I’m kidding.” Coulda fooled him. He met bi-colored eyes, dull as ever, and mouth set in a straight line.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fuckin’ hilarious, now–”

A yawn interrupted him, “I’ve been informed of the situation,” Situation? “Nerve damage. Ice quirks will do that after a while. I apologize if I overstepped in my attempt to keep all my fingers intact.” A couple stiff, discolored digits waved in his face.

Yeah, sarcasm didn’t suit him. “Fuck off.” It was half a joke, but still–

“You showed up at my house.” Okay, he’d had enough. He turned to leave, but the other cleared his throat. “Though, a small piece of advice–”

“Advice?” He was getting angry again, which only flared up as a smirk formed on the other man’s face.

“Poor thing’s convinced she may have a stalker.” Shit. “I’m sure as the Number Two, you’ll be able to make her feel safe, won’t you?” Slimy bastard. 

He huffed, turning away, “Yeah, yeah. Fuck off back to sleep, ya damn space heater, I got it.” There was a hum as the door clicked shut.

He was left with his thoughts as he jogged down the sidewalk–might as well get his morning run in–but, still, why hadn’t she told him about her stalker? I mean…she trusted him, didn’t she? Ugh. This was getting annoying. He needed a plan.

.♡.

“Fuck is that?”

She hissed a bit as she took his hand into her own, palm stinging a bit from underneath its bandage.

“Oh, nothing,” She smiled sheepishly, “It’s what I get for letting my friend talk me into buying one of those fancy reflex hammers.”

At the tilt of his head and furrow of his brow, she clarified, “Real sharp at the tip, ads say that’s what makes it sleek.” She chuckled a bit, and he hummed in response. She watched him for a bit, his jaw flexing a bit in frustration.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today–what, no complaints to lodge?” She giggled, but the furrow in his brow had her creasing her own. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He snapped back to reality, pulling his gaze from where her fingers worked at his hands, “Sorry, just distracted, I guess.”

“That’s alright. What’s going on?”

He sighed, “Stopped by the office the other day–’parently crime’s been shootin’ up all around Japan.”

“And you’re upset you can’t help out yet?”

“‘S fuckin�� frustratin’, being the Number Two, and sittin’ around all day gettin’ massages while there are murderers and rapists and stalkers runnin’ fuckin’ rampant in the streets.”

She swallowed, but tried to neutralize her expression, giving a weary smile, “Oh? Lots of stalkers nowadays?” She focused her gaze back on his hands.

“Been tons a’ reports all over the city–victims are–”

“Victims?” The hiss from his mouth told her she was pressing too hard, “Sorry, sorry! Just…it’s all a bit scary isn’t it? And victims usually means…” She released his hand to sort through her bag, picking through the equipment, handing him a grip strengthener, and turned her gaze to meet his own.

“Nah, ‘s not your fault; I shouldn’t be freakin’ you out with all the details–”

“No! I mean, no. It’s okay. I want–I mean, I’m curious–what are the details?”

He gave her a look, and she cursed herself for her slip up. In the months she’d known this man, she’d realized he was one of the most annoyingly observant people she’d ever met, and while she usually found his borderline anal attention to detail endearing, she’d really hoped to keep this from him–he had more than enough on his plate already–to make him worry over someone like her would be selfish.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yer actin’ like you’re bein’ stalked or some shit.” Fuck. Did he have some second quirk? Could he read minds?

“What? No, I’m not. I’m just…curious.” Yeah. Thank god she hadn’t gone into acting. At the unimpressed quirk of his brow she sighed, “I mean…It’s probably nothing, I’m sure I’m just–I’m just paranoid or something.”

“What the fuck? And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably nothing!  And..well, you’re so busy–recovery, and tryna get back in the field so you can…I just didn’t want to bother you.” She took a piece of hair in her hands, twirling and tugging as she avoided his gaze. “It’d be unprofessional of me to–”

“You gotta report that shit, dumbass!” The grip strengthener creaked with the strength at which his hand clutched at it. “‘’Sides, it’s not botherin’ me,'' Her cheeks colored, “It’s my job.” Oh. Right.

She wrapped another contraption around his fingers, gesturing for him to stretch as she took the other from his grip, “I’ve got it covered. Promise,” She sighed, “And I did report it, I just figured you had enough on your plate. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m walkin’ you home,”  She opened her mouth to protest, “Shut the fuck up. I ain’t askin’.” 

She sighed, but nodded,“Okay.” Her chest warmed a bit as a small smile pulled at her lips.

And the silence resumed, tense, but not with awkward or anxious energy, she realized. She snuck a few glances at him throughout the rest of their session. He really was a good man, wasn’t he? And, catching sight of the sharp curve of his jaw–handsome, too.

She chided herself for thinking so, but really–what was the harm in thoughts?--it was simply an observation, nothing more.

.♡. 

“It’s fuckin’ efficient. ‘Nuf said.”

“It’s fuckin’ geriatric is what it is.” She laughed, “What twenty-six year old goes to sleep at eight p.m.?” She craned her head up to catch sight of the red dusting his cheeks as they walked down the street.

“Call me geriatric all you want, but don’t come cryin’ to me when you’re fifty and yer face is saggin’ cause you never got a good night’s sleep.” She gasped, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as a smile tugged at his lips.

“You should know better than to call a woman wrinkly.”

“Good advice. Lemme know when you see one.”

She smacked his arm again as the two of them laughed, settling once she caught sight of the setting sun. “Thank you. For walking me home; it really–I mean, it’s–”

“Stop thankin’ me for givin’ a shit about you, you fuckin’ creep,” Her cheeks colored as she avoided his gaze, and he sighed, ruffling her hair a bit, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta look out for you; you’re sure as hell not gonna do it for yourself.”

She gasped in mock offense, “I’ll have you know, when I was younger, I was a certified blue belt in my–”

“Isn’t that really fuckin’ low?”

“Shut up,” They laughed lightly, and she turned to him as they came upon her doorstep. “Well, this is me.”

There was an awkward pause, and he coughed lightly, avoiding her gaze, “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll see ya–”

“You wanna come in?” She surprised herself with the words, but the red coloring his cheeks warmed her chest and eased her nerves. This was fine. They were friends.

“You sure?” Despite all the rumors and all the gossip, he really was a gentleman. Well, she’d come to know that these past months, but like this was an entirely different matter. She wasn’t quite sure why, though.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t eaten yet–figured you might wanna hang out and yell at me for a bit about it.” She laughed lightly, pushing the keys into the lock, and brushed her hair from her eyes.

“I’ll do you one better.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ll cook you dinner, and yell at you about it.” She opened her mouth, but a devious smirk spread across his face, “‘Less yer one of those losers with an empty fridge, and cabinet full a’ junk.”

She pushed the door open, “How dare you,” She flashed a cheeky smile as she led him inside, “Instant ramen is the food of the gods.”

.♡.

“You need to be more careful!” She chided as she wiped at the cut on his face, “You’ve only been back in the field for a month, you can’t just–”

A hiss interrupted her, and she pulled the alcoholic wipe away from his cheek as he sighed, “You rather I let a building fall on a buncha kids?”

She rolled her eyes, but resumed her work, “No. But, I’d rather you have at least an ounce of self-preservation–besides, I’m not sure how many wraps and casts and wipes we’ve got left in the budget.”

A sly smirk spread on his face, “Oh. I see,” He readjusted her in his lap as she wiped at his wounds, “Yer in physical therapist mode right now, huh? And here I thought my girl might actually be worried about me for a second.”

She smacked lightly at his arm, setting down her wipes to peck at his cheek, “I can be in physical therapist mode and girlfriend mode when it means you’ve gone off and gotten yourself hurt again.”

She rolled off his lap, tossing the bloody tissues in the trash as he trailed after her into the bathroom. She opened the cabinets, bending over to sort through the shelves. He grabbed her by the hips, and she shoved him off playfully.

“Not now, horny. I’m looking for a wrap.”

“Ah. Think we’re out.”

She stood, smacking him lightly, “See! What was I just saying?”

“I’ll head to the store in the morning, just come to bed,” He groaned, turning her in his arms, “‘M tired.”

She gave him a skeptical look before glancing down briefly, “I think your little friend may disagree.”

“Who you callin’ little?” His hands snaked down, pinching at the swell in her ass as she squealed, pushing out of his arms, and trailed into the bedroom. She glanced around, stopping once she spotted his closet door.

“Hey, where ya goin’?” He stalked after her.

“I don’t trust you. I’m gonna check for more first aid supplies.” She walked towards the closet, and, following her gaze, he pulled her by the wrist, bouncing her backwards onto the bed. She yelped as he collapsed on top of her, “What the hell? Get off! I can’t–can’t breathe–”

“Nah. Like I said, ‘m tired.”

She giggled out his name, trying to push the hulking mass off of her, “I’m serious! You’re–you’re hurt, we need to take care of–”

“We need to take care a’... what was it you said? My little friend?” One of his hands worked its way up her shirt as he readjusted them on the bed, “Only thing that’s hurtin’ right now is my ego…little, I should take you over my damn knee for that, y’know.” 

She laughed, sighing as his fingers made their way under her bra, “You’re so—you’re such a baby.”

“Oh yeah?” His thumb swirled her nipple as he smirked. Legs thrown over his shoulders, she looked up at him between half-lidded eyes while he worked off her shirt.

“Yeah.” She let out a breath as a tingling in her gut started to form. His canines grazed her neck, tongue flicking out to lick a stripe up the warm flesh.

“We’ll see about that.” He bit down, chuckling deeply at the whimper forced from her lips.

.♡. 

“Please–please–I don’t–I think someone’s here, I’m sorry to–to call you, but–”

“Stay right fuckin’ there. I’ll be there in five.”

“I’m–It’s pretty far, are you sure–”

“I can run. Stay on the–” She pressed the end button as at the sound of a bang–a door kicked open. The coat closet maybe? That means they were close. Too close. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, eyes squeezing shut, reopening with fresh, hot tears. 

Slow and steady, the sound of footfall was creaking down the wooden expanse of her hallway. Headed towards her, she realized. No. Please. She clutched her hand to her face, fingers pinching her nose to quiet the sounds of her breathing. This was it, wasn’t it? This was–

BANG! 

And then a frenzy of footsteps, crazed and seemingly unaware of their destination filled her ears. A shout. A shout? Wait…was that–but still, she didn’t dare breathe. Not until–

“Where the fuck are you?” The sound of her name being growled from a familiar baritone brought her back to reality, and she shakily pushed the door to the closet open from her place curled up on the floor.

“He–Here. I’m–I’m here.” The edge of her voice was cracking with tears as he pushed into the room, kneeling in front of her collapsed form. He gathered her in his arms, and the dam broke, snot and tears staining the soft polyester of his shirt as he carried her to the bed.

“Dumbass–scared the shit outta me–I told you to stay on the fucking–”

“Sorry–I’m sorry. I’m–I was just–I’m sorry…” She balled the fabric of his shirt in her fists as she sobbed. A large hand came to pet her hair, soothing her as it pulled the wet strands from her face, and tucked them behind her ear.

“S’ okay. I know. I’m here–you’re okay.” He sighed, burying his nose into her hair, taking a breath as his other arm soothed at her back. She sighed, gathering herself as she pushed a little bit out of his arms to meet his eyes.

“I–I just got home and–and all my drawers–they were open, and so I…” She sighed shakily, swallowing her tears, “Some of my clothes–my underwear–it’s gone, I–it’s getting worse, they’ve never–not until today–never come inside.” Her eyes shifted, “Well…I don’t think they have, but that’s…”

“That’s it,” She looked up at him, caught off guard a bit by the edge in his voice, “This shit is getting ridiculous. Yer movin’ in.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but a sharp look from crimson eyes killed the words in her throat. He sighed, readjusting her in his lap, taking her face in his hand as he pressed a peck to her jaw.

“I don’t wanna–I don’t wanna force ya, but shit, babe, this is…” He sighed, “‘M not always gonna be nearby on patrol, and if somethin’ happened to you, I’d never fuckin’ forgive myself. Even tonight–motherfucker got away from me.”

“I know,” She sagged, wrapping her arms around his middle, sighing, “I just…I feel so–this isn’t what you signed up for–I don’t want to be a burden to–”

“Shut the fuck up,” She jumped a bit, and his fingers spidered down her back in placation, “Sorry. Just…yer not a damn burden. I fuckin’...” She looked up to see red crawling up his neck and color his cheeks as he avoided her gaze, “I fuckin’ love you.”

He looked down at her now, and her breath hitched in her throat at the intensity burning in his eyes.

She felt heat crawl up her own cheeks, and a smile pulled at her lips despite herself–despite the situation, “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said I fuckin’--demon woman, fuck you.” He scoffed, but the hand at her back didn’t stop its ministrations, even as she giggled.

“No, I’m serious. I didn’t–I didn’t hear you, can’t you–ah!” He rolled them over, collapsing on top of her on the bed.

“Sorry. Can’t remember.” His hands trailed up her sides, and she began to squeal, laughing.

“Stop–Stop! Too–Too ticklish–please!” 

“Huh? What was that?” She shrieked, trying and failing to wiggle from beneath his assault on her sides.

“I said–I said I–I love you!” He stopped his torture, smirking down at her as she caught her breath.

“Damn right.” He dipped down, pecking her lips.

.♡.  

“And you’re sure it’s alright?”

“For the four hundredth time, yes. It’s more than fine; I’m the one who fuckin’ offered.”

She rocked back and forth on her heels in the elevator, various boxes and suitcases littered around the two of them as they headed for the penthouse floor. “I know, it’s just…”

“Stop that–I know that face; you’re fuckin’ fine–I love you. I want you here, you idiot.”

She sighed, nodding to herself as she watched the floors climb on the wall of the elevator. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I love you too.” Internally she calmed; it would be nice to sleep without waking up every hour paranoid that she’d heard the snap of a camera.

The sound of a ding pulled her from her thoughts, and she readjusted the boxes in her arms as the doors slid open, and the two made their way into the penthouse living room. She caught sight of the floor to ceiling windows, and set down her things while he worked to unpack. He nodded towards the bedroom.

“You’ve been here plenty a’ times. Feel free to take a shower or somethin’, and I’ll start on dinner. We’ll unpack as we go.”

She nodded, sending one more glance back to the expanse of skyline beneath her, finding that no matter how familiar she was with the view, her legs would never fail to shake with anxiety at the sight of the clouds hugging the edges of the buildings, obscuring her view of the bottom–of the rest of the world. She turned to head towards the bedroom.

“Gotta spare towel an’ shit for ya in there!” He called after her as she disappeared behind the door before he set her things down, heading for the open-floor kitchen. 

.♡.  

She stepped out of the shower, tightly wrapping a towel around herself, and swiped away at the condensed water clinging to the mirror to catch sight of her own reflection. She sighed, nodding to herself; this was fine. They loved each other–who cares that they’d only been together a couple months–they’d known each other longer; that had to count for something, right?

She groaned, moving into the bedroom to search for her clothes. Oh. Right. She thought to call for him, but, peeking out the crack in the door, found him, brows furrowed, chopping furiously at onions in the kitchen. Cute. She scanned the room, finding his closet door, and decided to search through his own clothes–he liked to give her shirts to wear, anyways.

She opened the door, stepping inside the large walk-in, and sifted through his drawers, pulling on a pair of boxers. She glanced around in search of a comfortable shirt, eyes catching on a small door–almost a cabinet–hidden on the back wall behind the racks. How curious. She kneeled down, and moved to open it, but–

“The fuck are you doin’?”

She yelped, hitting her head on the rack, hissing, and turned to face him, a sheepish look washing over her face, “Oh! Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to pry, I just–”

“I told ya I set shit out for ya.” The agitation in his voice set a strange feeling alight in her mind, but she brushed it off as his usual obsessive-compulsive nature. 

She rubbed at her head, half-sheepish, half soothing the pain, and smiled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything out there. I didn’t mean to snoop. Really.”

He studied her for a moment, but huffed, and gestured with his eyes to follow him into the bedroom. He glanced around, finding folded up clothes fallen half-way beneath the bed on the dark-wood floor. He kneeled, picking them up, and handed her the shirt, moving into his closet to return the rest.

“Musta fallen off the bed. Sorry.” His voice was a bit muffled by the distance, “Didn’t mean to freak out on ya. Been meanin’ to seal that shit up for a while now. Damn rats keep gettin’ in.” 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for not asking you.” She threw the black skull shirt over her head as he returned, shutting the closet door. “I know how you feel about your privacy, so…”

“Yeah. Yer fine,” He moved closer, kissing the crown of her head, “Dinner’s almost ready. ‘M fuckin’ beat. Let’s start unpacking tomorrow.”

.♡. 

“And there’s nothing? Not one clue?” She folded up her clothes in the bedroom’s new wardrobe. He’d told her that the closet was being renovated to fit the two of them, providing her an expensive but temporary solution. 

“‘M just as frustrated as you, babe. How do you think I feel, bein’ a top hero and still not bein’ able to protect my girl.” He huffed, handing her articles of clothing from a half-unpacked box as they talked.

“You’ve done more than protect me; it’s not your fault,” She sighed, fingers flexing, tightening subconsciously on the shirt she was holding, “I just…”

“I know, and…” He clicked his tongue, scanning her, “Yer not gonna like what I haveta say next.”

She swallowed, and he watched her throat bob, steeling his nerves. He was so close. He set the box aside, gesturing for her to join him on the bed. She sat herself in his lap, and he brushed her hair from her face, sighing, avoiding her gaze for good measure. Really draw it out.

“I think you should quit yer job.”

“What? Why would I–”

“Just fer now,” His hand soothed at her thigh, “‘An’ I can take care a’ things. Just ‘til shit dies down.” Yeah. That sounds good. And if shit just happens not to die down…Well, he was more than happy to provide.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any clues.”

Sometimes he wished he was attracted to dumber women. She pushed off his lap, and resumed her work, stuffing clothes inside the drawers with renewed anger.

He realized he didn’t appreciate her anger–did she not realize he was trying to keep her safe? It’s fine. He could fix that. He stood, hand to her shoulder to turn her, and calm her.

“Not any solid ones, but,” His eyes shifted, searching for the words, “Yer always comin’ back late–by yourself–if they found where you were livin’--you think they don’t know where yer workin’?” It was a bit hard not to revel for a bit in the irony–made him feel powerful–but it also made him realize just how weak she was, how unaware, how fragile. 

“Well…they haven’t followed me here.”

“Cause this place is maximum fuckin’ security,” He smirked, chest puffing a bit as a sort of sick pride bloomed in his chest,“‘Sides, ain’t no one’s messin’ with the Number Two. Heh. Love to see ‘em try.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing his hand from her shoulder, and made her way to the living room to retrieve another box, “I’m glad you’re feeling safe.” Okay, fine. Probably not the best time to be peacocking, but really, would a pat on the back kill her?

“That ain’t what I meant. Hey,” He trailed after her, “‘M serious. Sue me fer wantin’ you alive.”

She swallowed, avoiding her eyes. Whatever. He sighed internally. He really didn’t like scaring her. But honestly, she needed to learn: he was going to get his way–this was for her own good. He’d seen so much death and destruction in his short life, so much pain and suffering and–nevermind that–he would make sure she didn’t have to, no matter what she had to say about it.

“Hey,” His voice softened as he approached her, “Just…just promise you’ll think about it, alright?” He brought a hand to her cheek, and she leaned in, sighing.

She nodded, “Alright.”

.♡. 

Ring ring!  Ring ring!  Ring ri–

Your call has been forwarded to the voicemail for–

“Shit. Please. Come on…”

Ring ring! 

“Come on, come on.”

Ring ring! 

“Answer. Answer. Please answer.”

Ring ri–

Your call has been for–

“Shit!” She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes darting side to side, and glanced over her shoulder as she sped down the dimly lit sidewalk.

Just her luck, she thought. Take on a new client, you said. It’ll be fine, you said. Who cares that they live in the middle of goddamn nowhere? The trains will still be running; it won’t be too late. Idiot. 

She huffed, heart threatening to beat out of her chest; every shifting shadow was a threat; every kick of a stray rock, every honk of a distant car horn–everything–was sending lightning through her nerves, blood roaring so loudly in her ears she could barely hear herself think. 

The fall of a raindrop on her nose had her jump, though she began to groan as the pitter-patter of rainfall filled the streets. But then—

“You look lost, pretty girl.” A deep, distorted chuckle cut through her resolve as if it were made of ribbons, and her legs sprung forward before she could think to turn around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Not now; please not now.

Running frantically and without direction, she turned left then right then left then right then right again, lungs burning, and tears obscuring her vision, not knowing if her breath and voice were stolen by exertion or terror or both.

She slowed once she gathered herself enough to take in her surroundings. Where was she? And then, interrupting her thoughts, a slow, heavy footfall, too casual, too comfortable, started to make its way towards her.

“It’s rude to ignore people, you know,” No. Fuck. Left? Right? Where was home? Where was–“Hey, I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch.”

Fuck it. Left it was. Her gym bag jostled on her shoulder, a stray, initialed gym towel flying from the partially opened side-compartment into the wind behind her as she took off. 

“Hey! Get the fuck back here!” 

She turned briefly over her shoulder to catch sight of the figure–dressed in all black, head to toe–and let out a cry, pushing forward again, “Please! Leave me alone! I don’t know–I don’t know what you want from me!” Right.

There was that ugly laugh again, closer than before, and she willed her burning legs and lungs forward. Left. Back on the main road, good.

“Aww, I just wanna talk is all. What,” The voice turned darker, “You don’t wanna talk?”

Terrifying implications aside, she was nearly annoyed with him–him?--annoyed with what little effort he seemed to put into hunting her like some animal, not having even broken a sweat in his pursuit. She tossed her gym bag from her shoulder, hitting him square in the face, running with renewed vigor.

“Ah-Fuck! Bitch!”

She turned down another alley; maybe she could throw him off her trail. Fuck it. Turning again and again and again until she could no longer hear the sounds of wet shoes slapping the pavement behind her. She looked over her shoulder: nothing. Looking left, looking right: nothing. Only the sound of rainshower pouring down as if angry in and of itself. Join the club.

The quiet was nearly unsettling, but she forced a sigh from her lungs, deciding to stealthily find her way out of the maze she’d created for herself without alerting her predator. Which way was it now? Ugh. Maybe…that way? She turned–

Slam!

Her face hit a brick wall–no–her face hit a warm chest as hard as a brick wall. Fuck. This was it. She was going to die, right? She didn’t want to die. She swallowed, chest tightening, and nausea building, but–

“Holy shit! You’re fuckin’ freezing!”

She looked up to find scarlet eyes wide with worry, his large hands rubbed up and down her freezing wet arms, soothing the hairs stood on end. She let out a shaky sigh as she studied his face, half in disbelief and half in sheer relief. Though, her brow furrowed, shaking her head a bit in confusion upon spotting the pink strap of her gym bag hanging loosely from his shoulder.

“What–Where did you find that?”

“Huh?”

“My bag. Where did you find my bag?” She was getting agitated. This was paranoia, right? She pulled from his grip, noting the slight narrowing of his eyes before they returned to their previous concern. Was she imagining things? He put his hands up in surrender.

“Woah, chill, chill! I was out fuckin’ lookin’ for you. Left my phone at home while I was on my run, just got yer messages when I came back, and sprinted fer my fuckin’ life into the pourin’ rain tryna find you. I just found the damn thing abandoned on the side a’ the road.”

He sighed, taking a wet and matted strand of her hair from her cheek, brushing it behind her ear, “Yer gonna send me to an early fuckin’ grave y’know. When I saw it layin’ there on the street, I thought…” He swallowed, avoiding her gaze, voice cracking, “I thought you were…”

How cruel she was. To throw such accusations. She fell into his arms, out of guilt or adoration, she didn’t know, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–I keep making you worry, and–I just–I was so…” Her voice left her, sobs overtaking her body.

He comforted her in his embrace while the rain poured down around them, sticking their hair to their faces and clothes to their skin, stray raindrops catching on their eyelashes as they pulled away to find each other’s gazes. 

And, with tears and rain mixing on their cheeks, he brought his lips to her own, breath warming her cold lips before she pushed forward, arms tangling in his hair as his own locked around her waist, tight and close and safe. Safe. A shared thought between them, though, with two entirely different meanings.

.♡. 

“Gotta call the Commission. Had half the damn city out searchin’ for ya.” His thumb swiped over her cheek, eyes giving her a once-over–freshly showered with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, teacup steaming in her hands as she sat, in her silk pajamas and fuzzy socks, curled up on the living room couch.

She nodded, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead before excusing himself. The murmur of the sugary-sweet, altogether too happy movie he’d put on faded to the background as she turned to watch the skyline beneath her, a gray film obscuring the warm yellows and oranges that glowed in the distance. 

She sighed, mentally kicking herself for her stubbornness. He had warned her this may happen. And because of her arrogance, Japan’s best heroes were wasting their time searching for her when they had much more important things to be doing–real problems to deal with. How selfish. She huffed, swiping away a stray tear, and turned to smile at him as he returned.

“Yeah yeah. I owe ya one. Now fuck off, would you?” Ending the call, he fell into the seat beside her, hand rubbing down his face, exhausted. That’s your fault. 

She sighed, “Is everything okay?”

He looked at her, giving a weary smile, and her chest burned, “Mm. All good. We should be worryin’ about you, dumbass.” No, we shouldn’t.

She swallowed, scooching closer to him on her couch, “I was–I think that,” she huffed, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest, “You were right. I’ll–if it’s still alright, I can stop working for a bit. So you don’t have to worry–to worry about me too much.” 

Her cheeks burned in shame as she avoided his gaze, but the palm of his hand turned her face towards him. She nearly jumped at the emotion glowing in his eyes, burning with an intensity she’d not fully seen before, eyes locked on her own, yet, hollow, as if he wasn’t really looking at her. Through her? No…

“Fuck yeah, it’s alright. C’mere,” He pulled her into his lap, and she realized what it reminded her of, as he regarded her with the sheer glee a child would show upon receiving a new toy, admiring her like some possession. No. Maybe he was just getting worked up–that must be it. The day had been stressful, right?

He began pressing hot, wet kisses to her neck, “Just stick with me. I’ll keep ya safe, baby. Promise.” His teeth grazed up her flesh, and she felt goosebumps start to form.

She nodded, cheeks burning in embarrassment at her growing dependency, but the feel of his hand under her shirt brought her back to reality.

“Oh–oh. I was–I don’t know if…” She was tired. So tired. Her limbs and mind weighed with growing self-disgust and an increasing sense of helplessness. The last thing she felt right now was sexy.

“Lie down for me.” He flipped her on her back before she could answer, working off her shirt, and his hands pulled at the waistband of her shorts. He kissed down her sternum, leaving small bite shaped bruises in his path.

She called his name, hand to his shoulder, not pushing, but stiff, “Maybe we should–I’m not really–” He hooked his fingers into the side of her underwear and something jumped a bit in her chest. Fear. It couldn’t be fear.

He sat up as he peeled off the last of her clothes, “Fuck. You keep scarin’ me and scarin’ me…might gimme a fuckin’ heart attack one day.” He wasn’t looking at her, arms wrapping around her thighs to pull her legs around his hips. She squealed a bit as she was dragged further down, but didn’t protest.

She fell silent, he just loved her is all, this was fine. Didn’t she owe him at least this? Still, the thought didn’t sit right in some near-forgotten part of her mind.

He ripped off his shirt, defined abs and arms flexing in the moonlight before bringing his thumb to swirl at her clit, smirking when her hips jumped from the stimulation, muscles flexing and unflexing. She took her lip between her teeth, eyes slowly losing focus.

“That’s it. Fuck, that’s hot.” He took two of his calloused fingers into his mouth, tongue flicking out to wet the digits, drool dripping as they popped from his lips. Moving down to play at her lower lips, they forced themselves into her without warning.

She winced a bit at the stretch, but the roll of his thumb over her clit eased the burn. She tried to rationalize the situation in her mind. They’d had sex so many times before, why was this any different?

She swallowed as the knot built, thoughts flying from her brain as her legs tensed and shuddered against his hips, walls tightening around his fingers. Closer and closer. He sped his motions, rubbing furiously at her swollen bud. She began to tremble in anticipation, whimpers turning to open mouthed moans, head thrown back.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?”

An alarm went off in her brain.

“You look lost, pretty girl.”

But it was too late, his fingers curled and pumped into her, hitting a spot that had her melting, and her eyelids and pussy fluttered in gratification as her eyes crossed, vision going white. 

When she came down from her high, he was pulling her to her feet, and towards the windows.

But, “What did–what did you just call me?” It came out quietly, meekly, and she briefly wondered if that was really her voice. 

She shivered at the sheer intensity with which he regarded her, either not hearing, or ignoring her question altogether. He spun her around, and gripped her hips harshly, pulling them towards him, forcing her to arch her back. Face and hands pressed to the glass, she breathed his name as he worked his cock from his boxers.

Why wasn’t he listening?

“You don’t gotta worry about nothin’ from now on,” He sighed, sliding his cock between her folds, gathering the wetness, and huffed a low chuckle, “‘Cept sittin’ pretty at home, an’ keepin’ my cock warm in bed. Sound good, baby?”

She was used to dirty talk, but this was…strange, “What are–”

On hand caught her hair between his fingers, tugging at the roots as he leaned forward, breath wet and hot in her ear.

“‘Sit here all safe and sweet for me, yeah?” The hand tightened, and she felt a few strands ripped loose.

“Ah—it hurts, I—”

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.”

“Yeah—Yes. Yes, but—”

His cockhead breached her walls, and she whimpered. No matter how many times she took him, she’d never grow used to his size. In some form of placation, he kissed at the back of her neck, and behind her ear. It wasn’t working. He pulled back, and the hand in her hair met her throat, fingers flexing as they felt her racing pulse.

“‘S all yer good for anyways, huh?” That stung more than his cock bottoming out inside her. Too big. Please. Slow down. Just—

“That’s alright,” he licked his lips, pinching at the fat of her ass, forcing a yelp from her throat, before he began to thrust, fucking her hard against the window. Wait—

Through choked moans and whimpers, “I don’t…ah–” His hips snapped forward, hitting that special spot inside her, and taking her voice. Please.

“It’s alright, I forgive ya,” He huffed a laugh, close to her ear again, “I love you, after all.”

.♡. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She tried to stamp down the building irritation, but really, “I could have taken it myself.” Did he really think her that incapable?

“It ain’t a bit deal,” She watched as he worked, heavy weight on his shoulders as he squatted, “‘Sides, I was due for a gauntlet upgrade–was on my way,” He side-eyed her as he stood, “Said she’d fix it right up for ya. As a favor.”

The clang of the weight hitting the floor made her jump, “I mean…That’s nice of her–your inventor friend–but I still don’t understand what happened?” Her legs swayed back and forth on the exercise bench in an attempt to soothe her antsy nerves.

He moved to the smaller, hand weights, “Like I said…You knocked it off the nightstand last night,” Sighing as if her question were an inconvenience, “Thought someone broke in with the sound of it fuckin’ shattering.”

She didn’t know she moved in her sleep, or that she was that deep a sleeper. She also didn’t know that phones could break so easily, but she didn’t want to question him–he was going out on a limb for her to fix it for free, but still…

“Well…thank you, but I could have gone with you. I feel like I haven’t been outside in forever, and I’ve been getting a bit…restless.” He’d insisted on her near total confinement until this stalker of hers was found. Which he also said might take a while. What was a while?

“Maybe you can come with me when it’s ready, yeah?” 

She sighed a bit in relief, “Yeah,” Her eyes shifted a bit, “Thank you, though, for–”

“Like I said, stop thankin’ me for given’ a shit about you,” Wiping at his neck with a towel, he stood, and she followed him into the foyer, “Alright. I gotta head out. I’ll try an’ be back before dark this time.” She hummed, and he kissed the crown of her head, giving her a once over, and nodded to himself, heading for the door.

She sighed to herself as the door clicked shut, and turned, eyes scanning over the expanse of the penthouse. This was fine. She had plenty to do–she could make herself useful. Keep herself busy. Maybe then she could ignore the hollow in her chest that had opened who knows how long ago–she could make this work. She had to.

.♡. 

She nudged the closet door open with her hip, carrying the laundry basket inside. She’d gotten used to this routine, and she tried to reclaim some of the peace she used to feel in the silence. She began to fold up the articles, placing them in the drawers. With this impractically large, new closet, laundry day had become a strenuous task on its own.

He had told her she didn’t need to do all this, and in all honesty it did make her feel like a mix between housewife and maid. But what else was there? It wasn’t safe outside, he’d said. She just had to wait a bit more. She could do that. And she really didn’t like upsetting him–not after everything he’d done for her.

She lost track of the time, humming to herself as she worked, closing the drawers, and moving on to place the rest of the clothes on hangers. The lack of music in her ears had a bitter feeling pull at her heart–he’d just taken her phone without asking. He’d started to do a lot of things without asking. No. He loved her; he’d just wanted to do something nice for her. The bitterness melted onto her heart and burned.

How ungrateful.

She was nearly done now, just the back racks left. As she moved to set the basket down she caught sight of pink nylon–her gym bag on the floor, hidden behind the racks. The burn faded, and nostalgia took its place. She kneeled, pulling it from its place propped up against the since sealed shut cabinet–rats, he had reminded her.

She unzipped the bag, and sorted through the equipment. She pulled out the grip strengthener, smiling a bit, and turned it in her hands, finger running along the crack in the metal.

Crack!

“Oh shit!” He laughed, “My bad.” 

“Now, what did you have to go and do that for?” He handed it back to her, and she turned it in her hands, catching sight of the cracked metal, before looking up, and smacking his shoulder. 

“Asshole!” She laughed “You know how hard it is to find a quality grip strengthener?”

His brow furrowed as his eyes flickered to the device in her hands, “I dunno,” a sly smile spreading as he shrugged, “All I’m hearin’ is that you’ve never been taught what quality means.” He moved closer, and she shoved his face away.

“Don’t be gross,” Still, she smiled as she pulled back, “I’m still your physical therapist for one more week.”

“Yeah? And then what?” He smirked.

Her smile turned mischievous, “Huh. I’m not sure,” She looked into the distance, as if contemplating something, “Travel the world? Finally learn how to cook? Steal the moon? Who knows, I–ah!”

He pulled her into his lap with a force that had both of the tumbling to the floor, noses touching. A blink. And then they were laughing, her hands by his head, and his hands on her hips. They settled, and she caught sight of an emotion akin to admiration in his eyes,

“I got a few ideas of what you could do.” His eyes flickered to her lips, fingers flexing on her hips.

“Oh yeah?” She sighed a breath onto his lips.

“Yeah,” He puffed out a breath, but contained himself, flipping them over, and smirking as she squealed, “But we’re not leavin’ this room ‘til I show you what quality really means.” 

She hadn’t realized she was crying until her tears hit the cool metal. She can’t remember the last time he looked at her like that, with admiration that didn’t equal possession.

She sighed, wiping furiously at her face, and shoved it into the bag. What was the use of stewing over something she had no control of? But still, she couldn’t help the building anger in her chest as she moved to put the bag away. Hide away the memories.

She caught sight of the sealed cabinet, and paused. No. He valued his privacy. And he’d told her rats had gotten in through the wall. She’d never seen rats before. But, he also took her phone without asking, and told her it shattered. She’d never been a heavy sleeper. She tried to ignore the guilt that gnawed at her; it somehow felt wrong to criticize him–he was doing his best.

There was a familiar feeling of nausea mixing with the guilt creating an overwhelming wave of unease that poured over her nerves. Fuck it. She shuffled through her bag. Where was it? Where was it? There.

She pulled a reflex hammer from inside, turning it backwards, testing the sharp metal tip at its base with her finger. Guess you are good for something. She shuffled forwards, scratching at the sealant of the cabinet, brows furrowed in determination, and mouth set in a hard line as she peeled the rubbery substance from the creases. Almost. Closer. Closer. Done.

She sighed, setting the hammer in the bag, hesitating a bit as her fingers curled over the side crease–why was there no handle? It creaked open, and the smell of dust filling her nostrils had her sneezing. Collecting herself, she waved away the dust, squinting as it settled. 

Inside lay a wooden box of sorts–crate, maybe?--wooden something. Curious. She pulled it into her lap with some strain, prying off the top, and hissing at the sting under her fingernails as they caught on the edge. It fell off with a thump, and she peered inside.

What is that?

Her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide and trembling. An initialed gym towel. If he’d found it that night…why hadn’t he given this back to her?

And…polaroids? She couldn’t breathe. Was that–No. They were too blurry. Too dark. It couldn’t be…

No. No. No.

A few wads of hair–her hair? She couldn’t breathe. Her heart beat against her ribs, blood flow filling her ears like the roaring wave of unease. Except, it wasn’t unease. Were those her clothes?

This didn’t make sense.

Trembling fingers reached inside, pulling out something soft and cotton. Was that..Was that her underwear?

It wasn’t unease.

It was freezing, burning, suffocating terror. But the break in, that chase, how–how had he–?

“Yeah yeah. I owe ya one. Now fuck off, would you?”

Owe ya one. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. No. No. 

This made perfect sense.

She couldn’t fucking breathe.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

She dropped the article as if it had burned her skin, falling back on her hands as she scrambled away. She didn’t want to be near that box. She didn’t want to be anywhere near–

A sigh cut her off, and she had to will her frozen limbs to move. All she could manage was the slight turn of her head. It was enough.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and eyes cold–she didn’t know red could be cold–calculating as he scanned the scene.

He clicked his tongue, bringing a hand to his hair, tipping his head back as he ran his fingers through the locks. A slow, deep, building, familiar chuckle. His eyes snapped back to hers, and every nerve in her body burst with fear.

“Now,” He huffed a laugh, smirk pulling at his lips, “What did you have to go and do that for?”

[lady-ashfade]

All Is Far In Love And Farming

Chapter 1: Getting Started

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yandere!Mha!Hybrids × Farmer! Fem!Reader. Chapter 1.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ storyline: The calling of being a professional farmer had been your dream since you were young. Growing up on your granddad’s farm was the best thing, many years later you happen to be back. And the property is now yours to restore. With some hard work, you want to restore hybrid caretaking back to what it once was.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Chapters: Previous // Next

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.5k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short chapters, stardew valley au, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, hybrid abuse, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere, hybrid and human relationships, and future warnings when more chapters come out, spelling mistakes and grammar who?

╰･ﾟ✧☽ characters for now: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka, Tenya lida, Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Tsuyu Asui, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Hanta Sero, Mashirao Ojiro, Koji Koda, Momo Yaoyorozu

series masterlist

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Everything you once saw, the brightest of grass and the crops ripe ���and perfect, and the animals in the barns chirping of happiness— it was all gone. once a happy place you roamed in the summer as a kid was now a abandoned filthy place, old bards with holes and damaged walls. Nothing was what it used to be, the grass was as tall as small trees and it was going to take a lot of lovin.

But if your granddad taught you one thing is that; working for a better future would make everything you did it worth it.

And that’s exactly why you are here, to make your future. Everything in your life was about becoming a farmer, like your grandfather. and like him, you believed hybrids deserved to be in a safe and open land to roam, not such in some metal factory and enclosed to live their life.

“Come join the number one hybrid farm in Japan, The League.” the tv rung in your ears back at the college room, the place had been taking over everything and running all the local and good places out. at one point the only place you probably could work at was The League, since they seemed to be everywhere. “New locations, New Areas, And New Pay. Call the number on your screen for more information.” you had heard the commercial so many times you rolled your eyes everytime.

Never did you believe they would come out here, and be the competition. 

Honestly, the first day your body was drained easily from all the work. The labor wasn’t exactly what you were expecting to start off with, moving the rooks and weeding. But you had supplies to start off with thankfully, the money he left you was so much, and ready for a new purpose. But the only thing that was helping you in all of this, your holy grail was a local store owner. Arthur, who happened to be your grandfathers best friend.

slapping the metal truck with the gloved hand, the old man smiled and stepped down from the back of the moving truck. you whipped off the sweat from your skin and catch your breath as the unpacked heavy boxes placed besides you and man.

“The old man used to buy twice as much as this and unload it all him, then complain when his back hurt afterwards. Lucky, he had me to talk some since into him.” the white haired man spoke breathlessly. you didn’t want him to have to help, seeing his age but he was in better shape then you by the looks of things. “Old bat was stubborn, you got that in you kid?”

taking a deep breath you arose from the bend down position you were in and look at the man, smiling a bit you commented back. “Used to give granddad a run for his money, I think I have it in me.” you were earned with a deep chuckle and a small one from yourself. starting back up again you closed the doors and gave the man who drove the truck the okay and he drove away.

the next day was worse then the first, your body was sore and tired, you wore sunscreen all over your body to protect you from the heat damage and the illnesses you could catch. unpacking all the equipment, getting them put together, and make sure the starter crops are taken care of. you took many breaks. and Arthur was the greatest help you could ask for.

you heard the story of how he met your granddad many times before, but you didn’t mind hearing it from his side. Arthur had moved from the United States to start his business with his family, and your grandfather was just started out in town. they were younger and bonded right away, and there for marriages, children and grandchildren. knowing he wasn’t as alone when you left was comforting in a away but you knew the full story. just before your tenth birthday you were moved away from the small town with your parents and left the farm behind.

“He talked about you every day.” The words perked up your ears. You looked at Arthur as he continued to work on a huge fan.

“Everything that happened in your life, he would tell me. What happened at middle school sport events, to dances and even show pictures of the dresses you wore. And man, when you went to college for Hybrid Education he was bursting with energy again.” It’s been a long time since he was able to leave the cabin. You knew that, but knowing still punched you in the guts.

“Was he proud?” asking was a waste of time.

“Proud as hell, there should be no doubt about it. His pride and joy was you, more then anything he did here, and now you have a legacy to continue.” smiling you continue to work to hold yourself from the weight building up in your chest. you missed him so much.

Each day there was something new to fix and call in, you knew granddad was rich from the bank account he left you. but boy, it sure was a lot of money. and now, you finally had a starting point. you had scheduled a barn repair on the electrical and building. the crops were set up along with the sprinklers and scare crows, even cleaned out the well…but not without getting algae all over you.

Smalltowns in the country side where the best, everyone in the community was helpful towards one other. And since The League had a location down the road, the people really came together. Businesses were losing in hybrid projects and animals, but the crops were the same. But this met more hybrids lost there homes, and had to be relocated elsewhere else or to The League…You hated it.

A big wooden sign at one of the joint shop centers made you smile and turn into the lot. today was the weekly event, selling of many things of local produces. you remember coming here as a kid and always getting blueberry jam from the market lady. and just like then, it was crowded. and with a lot of stalls and moving trucks. Arthur had told you they still had them and that you should check it out. of course you wouldn’t miss this for anything.

you shut the truck door and fixed your clothes before started the walk around. everyone was selling amazing things at their booths. the first table you saw was one cover in homemade soap bars and honey products. a sweet older couple ran that shop. some stalls were for hybrids for sale but you didn’t have room for them, at least until the barns are rebuilt. but milk, crops and seeds where your thing anyway to look at.

“how much for this?” the only person behind the table was a young girl who looked angry and ready to chew off your head, it was laughable. she was going to be hard to haggle, but a amazing work ethic. “I don’t know you, so twenty bucks.” your eyes widen and look down at the honey in your hand. it was a very small jar…and not worth it, I mean for the bigger bottles sure.

“Hmm, how about ten?” the small girl glared at your words and huffed. she shook her head in annoyance and pointed to the tag, “you trying to get out of paying hard working people lady? This is the best honey you’ll find in the whole country! Haggling is only for people I know,” her finger pointed at you and you back up a little at her shouting voice. “And you ain’t it!”

signing you pull out a twenty and handed it to her, she smiles so kindly you forget about the anger she had. placing it in your cloth bag you continue walking down the path, smiling and looking around. not much you could buy yet, though you did buy from groceries and loaded the up in the bed of the truck.

“well if it ain’t the talk of the town,” a sweet woman’s voice called out loudly. you turn your gaze and see a almost forgotten face, but one that filled you with joy and nostalgia. “Aunty Hoshiko.” You scream and rush over, the older woman comes out form her booth and takes you into her arms. only now did you realize the sweet small of jam and the jar’s decorated like they used to be, but this area was bigger and a extra tent was behind it.

“I couldn’t believe you moved back here after moving to the city, heard you got into a good college.” She smiled from cheek to cheek while pulling away. “Why come back here?” it was flattering how much she thought of you, but you couldn’t have stayed away from this place for much longer.

“Well, grandpa left me the farm and I needed to start my new life. Can’t get much better then a already laid for land, and with great soil.” she hummed but her eyes dropped a little and her smile became different. “I’m so sorry, he was a good man. you tell me if you need any help okay? Your granddad helped us a lot, so many people in town will be willing to do help too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile and take a peek at the table, “mind if I look?” she is excited to show you all the new flavors and jars she has, letting you smell each one. she even offers you a discount for family.

you had a few jams picked out but you keep looking at everything, knowing you’ll come home with more. then there was a sign and paperwork around on a tables end.“Hybrid Rescues” is what you read and your hands reached for it immediately. seeing your interested, Hoshiko started to talk.

“The League has been running out businesses, hybrids are either purchased or…end up alone and abandoned. My friend runs a rescue company, we help her out here trying to give some of them a home.” you clinch the paper in your hand and want both more then to go punch the owners of the company. No hybrid deserves to be left alone.

“I usually have a few here with me, but today only one is for sale. He’s very special. And a house animal, or helper if you will since I know you don’t have much room for more yet.” the next step was to always get hybrids, but you weren’t sure if today was the best idea today…

“Oh!” that wasn’t your choice since she pulled your arm and lend you into the tent where only one hybrids sat. you struggled to look away from the hybrid laying in the floor.

He was huge. he looked peaceful tho, curled up on a bed and resting peacefully. he had long and pointed ears, a middle tail that curled. “he’s a special breed, no idea why they didn’t keep him since he must have cost a fortune.” there was a small scar on his arm and you hated to see, it looked like cattle whip strokes.

“tenya,” she called out quietly to wake the dog. you really didn’t know if you should get a hybrid, but seeing him already you knew you couldn’t say no. his furry ears twitched and his body rolled over ready to see what was happening. he was fast, and he was built. a pure breed for herding and hard labor. “I have someone here who needs a dog to help around the farm.” she patted you on the back and you got shy for some reason.

His tail was sticking up, his eyes glancing over and panicked. he was on high alert. “Hey buddy, my names y/n.” You smile softly. You don’t want to move until he gives you a sign. his nose sniffs into the air for a moment and his body freezes, you both stop for a minute too.

until the thumping of his tail was heard and he jumped up to greet you properly. you are taken aback and he gets excited and starts to shout, you can’t help but to smile. “My names Tenya, I am apart of the Iida breed. I have experience in herding, working and defending territory. I have many skills,” his hands reaches for hers and stuffs it into his nose to get a proper smell.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle. having some help now would be good, and a herding dog would the best thing.

“Tell me iida, are you okay with maybe coming home with me?” if it was only a dog he would for sure be jumping on you from how happy he seems to be.

Iida didn’t want you to leave to get things needed, saying it was his job to be with you now but you need to find food and things before leaving. he whined forever until he saw you again.

you came back to get him…like you said you would. he loved you, loved you so much. the kindest human he’s met.

Riding back to the farm was a journey. he was talking every second about all the things he could do, from each animal, hybrid or not. boy, was so happy to be by your side. and he was asking about you too. why you picked him? what you wanted him to do.

your heart broke once you got back to the cabin.

you held the door open and called for him to come in, but he just stood on the porch looking at you almost guilty. “Hybrids aren’t aloud inside, I must protect you from out here.” he was already looking for a place to set up for the night. it was a miracle you didn’t start crying again.

“Well, whoever told you that was a idiot. Many dog hybrids are aloud inside, and it’s my house so my roles go.” you tap the door again. he was hesitant, and it took about ten minutes to get him inside. and you told him to stay put while you get the things from the car…then told him it was a order to get him to stay.

you placed the things on the floor and smiled, proud of yourself. “Okay, so I got a large mattress for you. We can place it anywhere you want, also got you special food, hybrids approved.” he looked at the mattress for a long minute. Iida couldn’t believe it was his, he hadn’t slept on one of them since he was little, and then at the market earlier. And this one was his, made for his height and weight for him to sleep…inside.

“Your bought this for me?” He asked while poking at the bed, it’s softness amazed him. once he accepted his reality his tail starts to swing like crazy and crawled over to you, and hugged you lovingly.

“I’ll be the best boy I promise. anything you need I will do, anything.” his grip tightened around your waist and pushed his head into your plush stomach. you patted his head and thanked him, and told him he deserved to be loved and cared for.

That night, he placed his bed in front of your bedroom door and stood watch in his bed. to protect you, his master…his.

next chapter.

series master list.

Taglist: @serxinns @queenpiranhadon @hah-simp-acc-2 @imlonelyty @yourmommasworld @moonlight-dreamer04 @cherrysxuya @melody-deathnote @ladybug2235 @odevote118 @hrezx @androgynouszombiegentlemen @letmelickureyeballs @lovelystarstruckvoid @simpingmasterpiece

@ please don’t repost my stuff to any other platform. This is my writing so don’t claim it as your own.

[bbkoolkatz]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　mama... I fucked a criminal! k. bakugo!

pairing: prisoner katsuki x prison guard reader!

cw: porn with plot? female reader, explicit adult content, strong sexual themes, profanity, power dynamics, imprisoned!katsuki!, verbal teasing and taunting, consensual sexual acts, embarrassment, spanking, groping, mentions of getting caught! reader discretion is advised.

2.3k+ words!

MDNI!!!

there was nothing that really got to you. you've grown used to the criminals in their cells telling you all the nasty things they'd do to you, if you let them out or if you came in. but it never hit your skull like the way his words did...

"oi, sweets, y' just gonna stand there all day, or y' gonna come in 'n keep me comp'ny?" him —the man behind the reinforced glass, infamous traitor, the explosive ex-hero Dynamight—

you didn't even glance at him, staring straight ahead at the blank wall across from you. you knew better than to feed into his games. yet, somehow... he always managed to get under your skin.

"silent treatment, huh?" he mocked, words rolling off his tongue oh so smoothly. " 's fine. I can talk enough fer both of us." it's like second nature to him with how often he taunted you, feeding off of every little reaction you gave.

you clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words phase you. It had been like this every shift since they assigned you to guard this cell where, the Dynamight, was locked away, and for reasons you couldn't fathom, it was your job to keep him in line.

"yer real cute when yer all serious, y'know that?" he drawled, the grin in his voice clear even if you refused to look. "bet yer just dyin' t' say somethin' t' me."

your grip on your firearm tightened. "shut up."

his laughter was low and raspy, echoing off the cell walls. "oh, there she isss. knew you couldn't resist me, sweets."

you turned your head slightly, glaring at him through the glass. his orange jumpsuit was tight on his arms, veins bulging from them, his blond spikes of hair messier than usual, hanging right above his crimson eyes, that sparkled with mischief. he was lounging on the narrow bed in his cell like he didn't have a care in the world, one arm draped behind his head as he smirked at you.

"don't call me that," you snapped.

"what, sweets?" he teased, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on his knees. "would ya' prefer somethin' else? Doll? Babe? Honey? y' gotta tell me what gets ya goin', princess."

your face burned, and you turned away quickly, cursing yourself for reacting, as you squeezed your thighs together. you could feel his gaze like a physical weight on your back, and you knew he was loving every second of it.

"aw don' be like that," he cooed, voice softer but no less taunting. "yer my only entertainment in this place. least y' could do is let me have some fun."

"this isn't fun," you muttered, trying to sound firm, but all he heard was, cute... "this is my job."

"n' yer real good at it, too," he goaded, standing and moving closer to the glass where you stood. "but yer not exactly subtle, y'know." he teased, "I see the way yer hands shake when I talk t' ya', the way yer cheeks get all red." and he glaced down your body, "n' the way those fuckin' thighs squeeze t'gether... y' like it, don'tcha?"

you spun around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I do not."

he grinned wider, pressing his palm flat against the glass. "yer a terrible liar, princess."

the way he said it, so smug and self-assured, made you want to scream. but you knew that's exactly what he wanted. he thrived on your frustration, on the little cracks in your composure, even if he only saw it for a split second.

"shift exchange." a voice crackled over the speaker, clipped and monotonous.

you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, turning your gaze back to the glass. katsuki's smirk was nothing short of devilish as he leaned against the barrier, his perfectly crimson eyes locking onto yours like a predator savoring his prey.

"that's my cue," you muttered, hoping the tremor in your voice wasn't as obvious as it felt.

"aww, don' look so disappointed," he drawled, "yer playin' with my feelin's here." his tone was mocking but dangerously, dangerously smooth. "i'll be right here, waitin' for ya, sweets. same time, same place. maybe next time, i'll even sweeten the deal fer ya."

you rolled your eyes, stepping back as another guard arrived to relieve you. his eyes followed you as you left, grin widening when you hesitated at the door.

"don' forget about me, sweetcheeks," he rasped, voice dripping with amusement. "i'll be thinkin' of ya."

you didn't look back. how could you forget about him? you spent months guarding his ass... your boots echoed against the cold floor as you walked away, but his words followed you, curling around and suffocating you like smoke.

you rubbed your temples. katsuki had this uncanny ability to irritate you, to pick apart your defenses with uncanny precision. and it was maddening.

yet… there was a heat that refused to dissipate, a knot forming in your lower belly that you couldn't quite shake. the sound of his voice replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"get a grip," you muttered to yourself, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn't be that simple. there was already an itch he created inside you... 'cause he was as far under your skin as he could get, and he wasn't leaving anytime soon...

the other day, they called you in early, for god knows what reason, and he hasn't shut his mouth from the moment he saw you, till now.

"why don'tcha just admit it?" he teased, in almost a purr as he leaned his head on the glass... "admit y' like the way I talk t' ya... the way I look at yer ass in those tight pants... admit y' thought about openin' this door and lettin' me—"

"that's enough." you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. and you took a deep breath, trying to ease the ache he made you feel in the pit of your stomach, "you're wasting your breath."

"am i?" he asked, tilting his head, leaning forward, and studying you like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

you tilted your head in the opposite direction and subconsciously leaned closer... like you were leaning in for a kiss, "yes..." you whispered, fogging the glass with the heat of your breath.

-

"i've fucked ya' a hundred times over in my head," he leaned over and groaned in your ear, "watching yer uniform hug them pretty fuckin' thighs instead o' me..." he smacked your plump ass and smirked when it rippled under his palm, plowing himself into you, scratching that itch he embedded deep in your cunt.

"such a pretty fuckin' thing aren't ya," he prodded, landing another stinging smack on the reddened flesh that he couldn't stop grabbing at. his fingers dug into the curve of your waist, pressing you down on the soft material of the makeshift mattress he spent all day and night on, thinking about fucking you.

the sounds of your squelching cunt filled his cell as his hips thwacked mindlessly into yours. and the salty sting of tears pricked at your eyes, as he had you bent over the edge of the platform jutting out from the wall, that he'd called his bed.

"i needa know, sweetcheeks," he huffed, "di'ja fuck yerself t' me when y' left?" and the feeling of him pumping his fat cock inside you stopped...

you hesitantly nodded, whining under him, as a series of incoherent babbles fell through your lips. "use yer words, baby." he encouraged, grinding his hips against you.

you turned away from him, soft moans leaving your throat, "m-mhmm," you whimpered, hoping he'll take that answer... he didn't... smack!

"uh-uhh babe," he goaded, "words, not whimpers." he slowly pulled his length out of your drippy pussy, running two fingers up and down between your lips.

"ahh- y-yes, hah," you whispered, burying your face into his pillow, to hide your embarrassment.

" 'm not hearin' ya baby, louder." he slapped your puffy clit, rubbing his fingers harder and faster between your sloppy folds.

... how did you end up here? well...

"c'mon sweets, jus' confess. promise I won' tell anyone," he playfully pouted, leaning on the barrier between you both, with an arm over his head as he looked down at you.

"you're insufferable," you muttered, turning back to face the dirty white wall.

"maybe," he said, laughing softly. "but ya can't get enough of it."

you tried to focus on your breathing, on calming the rapid beating of your heart sending throbs between your legs, on anything but the man behind you. but then he spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

"y'know," he said, "y' should loosen up a little. let yerself have a bit o' fun. life's too short to be so uptight, sweets."

you refused to respond, refused to give him the satisfaction. but his words lingered and replayed in your brain.

after a long pause, he chuckled again, the sound softer but no less infuriating. "i'll break through that wall o' yers eventually. n' when I do, yer not gonna know what hit ya'."

"keep dreaming." you said, your voice steady despite the heat still burning in your cheeks.

"oh I will." he replied, and you could hear the grin behind his words. "n' guess what? yer always the star o' the show."

now you're here, a pretty little mess pressed up under him as the tip of cock prods at your sopping wet entrance. " 'm not hearin' ya dollface," he crooned, pushing just his fat tip in and out of you, "won' put it back in 'til ya say it loud and clear f'me."

"mh- yes! alright! hah~" you groaned, frustrated with yourself that you gave into him, that he had this kind of hold on you... that it felt sooo fucking good when his veiny cock was stretching your tight pussy out...

"yes what? baby?" he sinks himself into you, inch by painstaking inch, stretching you open again.

"ahg- yes, I touch myself -hngh- thinkin' 'bout you..." your whining was music to his ears, hearing those words fall through your saliva covered lips, only making him grow harder inside you. smack! if only you could see how fucking hot you were as you looked back at him while he thrusted into your aching cunt.

"atta girl~" he grunted, with sloppy thrusts, hands bruising your hips with the hot grip he had on them. you reached a hand back trying to pry them off, but he grabbed your wrist, holding it hostage, using it to plow deeper into you. "don' try t' get my hands off." smack! "been watchin' y' through that fuckin' glass -ugh- fer too fuckin' long fer me t' not leave a few marks."

"shift exchange." . . . fuck. . .

"oh this is gonna be fuckin' sweet." he drawled, dragging you over to the same glass wall that separated you from him, "how long d'ya think we got 'til someone comes in?" he teased, grabbing handfuls of your tits as he rammed you into the glass.

"m-'bout, 5 -hngh- minutes?" you moaned, "l-less?- ahh~" rubbing at your wet sensitive clit.

"want me to stop?" he purred, sucking on the soft of your neck, pinching your perky nipples, "y'could come back t'mo-"

"no!" you gasped, repeatedly shaking your head, desperation taking you over, "please... i-i'm close..."

"didn't take ya fer such a freak sweetcheeks," he mused, using your neck to pull you back, for him to lock his lips with yours, his tongue shoving past yours to explore every crevice of your mouth, and by fuck, you're sweet as hell... you were driving him more insane than he already was.

he didn't care if anyone came in and saw him fucking your brains out and apparently, neither did you... kinda... all he cared for, was making you cum, whining and crying on his throbbing dick. "if ya' beg nice enough maybe i'll let ya'."

"huh?" you groaned, hasn't he embarrassed you enough already? no. "i'm not gonna-"

"'pretty pretty pretty please', 's all y' gotta say princess," he whispered, slowing his thrusts. "n' I'll make sure you cum all over my cock."

you groaned, trying to shove yourself back into him, and he chuckled at your attempt, firmly holding you in place, "mmh- p-pretty, pretty, pretty please?" a single tear fell down your cheek. "please make me cum!" he lapped at your cheek savoring the salty taste of the tears that followed the first.

"good girl~" he cooed, picking up his pace once more, drinking in each moan he fucked out of you, throwing in some of his own grunts and growls. he snaked his hand down your body, to rub and pinch at your swollen pleasure button, bringing you closer to climax.

" 'm c-cumming! ffuck!~" you clenched around him, feeling each ridge and vein of his pulsing hot dick and your legs gave out from under you as he rode you through your high. the only thing keeping you from falling to the cold floor was his toned body pressing yours into the glass, with your tits squished between his pair of musclebound arms. his head dropped to rest in the crook of your neck, as he heaved a series of pleasure filled curses.

"on your feet," he rasped, finally pulling away and out of you, making you whine a little with how abrupt he was, "ya' needa put yer uniform back on," he grinned, picking it up off the floor to throw it at you. " 'm keepin' these." his hands held up the little fabric of your underwear as he shoved them into his jumpsuit.

"huh? i need those!" you complained, reaching to get them back only for him to pull you into another tongue hungry kiss, leaving a string of saliva when he pulled away.

he licked the plump surface of your now pink lips, "i need 'em more, sweetcheeks." and he left one last smack on your sore ass before you got dressed and your shift ended... ꨄ

didn't know how to end it... :/ mlist

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Yandere Class 1-A X Reader — { PART 2 }: We’ve Got Company~

(Description: Titles are hard, okay? Please don’t shame me for how cheesy it is because I know it's corny LOL. But I make up for it with decent writing! I POPPED OFF with some of these parts.

We all know this by now, but it’s safe to say (Y/N) is too trusting of EVERYONE. The amount of people I keep making them blindly and wholly give their faith to is…concerning. I know you guys probably want them to fight back more, but it’s hard when I haven’t labeled them with a specified Quirk. I wanted to leave it up to you guys to give them the attributes they have in your minds without spoon-feeding you every single choice (Y/N) makes. Sooooo, it suffers a little bit with the repetitiveness of this constant back and forth getting pulled every which way. It’s also difficult when there are so many characters to cover.

I am not complaining about it though! I am extremely proud of this story and am very happy with the outcome. I just hope you guys love it as much as I do. Plusss, it’s kinda nice to imagine being a princess stolen away at every opportunity by handsome/gorgeous suitors teehee!)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Original Concept - [Mommabean’s OG Story] → Here

Part I - [My first addition] → Here

Part II → You’re here!

~

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Sequel Oneshot // This story is a continuation of Momma’s Yandere Class 1-A Purge short story. I have written a previous part to this, so please check it out to understand what is happening!; Yandere Purge! If you don’t know what that is, go take a look at @yanderemommabean’s original works of it on her page, all is explained there; Many of MHA’s adults are included here, but I don’t want to spoil who exactly is in the story, so that is all you get so far~!

Word Count: 24K

WARNING(s): Swearing; physical fighting and threats (threats aren’t made at (Y/N), nor are they hurt beyond bruising); there is a brief mention of rape and sexual assault—it is not gone into heavily or in detail, but you need to know it is there; mental and emotional manipulation to the reader; bending of MHA’s storyline and the events currently happening (mainly regarding the setting, timeline, and people’s aliveness LMAO) to fit (Y/N) into the story but bear with me; some unrealistic interactions are going to happen in this fic because to get everyone together in a setting like this is near impossible; All of Class 1-A’s students are aged up to third years & everyone is 18 or older // I AM WRITING THEM AS IF THEY ARE IN CLASS 3-A NOW FYI!

[PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse my writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference between reading/writing yandere stories V.S real-life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like a character(s) in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware, stay safe.]

~

Unable to leave without one final gloat, Shinsou turns back to smirk at the students, “All of you were wrong earlier, by the way. It’s me, dumbasses.”

Suddenly, a cocky voice chuckles from behind the mind-controlling boy, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, kid~...”

As reluctant as Shinsou is to say this, a tiny shiver runs down his back. Coming from the busted-up entrance of the gymnasium, Aizawa’s voice rings out like a bell. Your current threat swivels around to face the intruder. Even though his recognizable voice is a dead giveaway, seeing him actually standing there in the rubble draws a sigh of relief out of you. You don’t know whether to cry, smile, or scream for his help; either way, it’s just a nice change of pace to see his usual disheveled appearance and relaxed stature. At least something has remained consistent on this hellish evening.

Though, something sensible clicks in your mind. Thinking back on all the strong-willed friends you lost in the fight against this disease, you realize there’s a strong chance that even your own teacher has fallen victim to its siren call. As much as you’d like to go running into his comforting embrace and wail about how horribly your classmates have been treating you the past few hours, you bite your tongue and stay complacent in Hitoshi’s arms. Not like you could voice many of your concerns with the makeshift gag still sat across your mouth.

“Damn,” Shinsou mutters to himself before perking up to meet his instructor's eye with a devious glint in his eye, “Mr. Aizawa. Good to see—,” Before the boy could finish his greeting, the stoic hero held up his hand, his palm facing Shinsou.

“Save the pleasantries. You’d think after all these years of one-on-one training you’d realize I can read you like an open book. Your expressions continue to give your intentions away too easily. So cut the crap.” Shinsou's false smile drops quicker than it appeared. Aizawa leisurely waltzes into the room, closing in on the both of you.

Aizawa continues his analysis with a sigh, “And I wouldn’t try that little gimmick with me. I’m not like my students over there,” he vaguely points behind the two of you to the group.

“I’m your mentor. All the tricks you have up your sleeve are hardly even interesting choices to me anymore. I should know, I taught them all to you, after all.” He chuckled to himself.

“Did you come here just to nag my ear off about how you’re so much better than me, or because you have something actually important to say? ‘Cause, if it's the former, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got some pretty precious cargo in my hands at the moment.” Shinsou brags, hoisting you further up into his arms, forcing a garbled complaint from you.

“Watch your tone, brat.” Aizawa glares at the snarky comeback his student possessed. Hm. So, Hitoshi thinks he’s hot shit because he won against a handful of decently strong opponents? Well, that’s just fine. He’s used to putting cocky bastards in their place.

“I’ve come to offer you a deal of sorts. We can either speak about it rationally, or,” he shines a leering grin, “I can use my quirk on you, and you can say goodbye to the hold you have over your classmates right now. How do you think you’d fare against 19 pissed-off pro heroes?” This time, you can actually feel Shinsou shutter at the sinister tone your teacher leans into. His reaction makes sense. The idea of irrational, infected, superhuman, edgy teens hunting you down fighting isn’t a pleasant one. Not just one of them either, a whole damn fleet of them. You’d be shaking in your boots too.

“Since I’m nice, I’ll let you decide,” Aizawa has a bored look on his face again as he runs a hand through the inky mop of hair atop his head. A few seconds lurch by before Shinsou caves.

“Fine, old-timer. I’ll hear you out.” Shinsou reluctantly agrees. He knows he could take on a few of them at once in combat, but as soon as the heavy hitters join the fight—it’ll be over. He’d much rather join forces with his instructor than be betrayed by the greedy moochers residing in his class. Shinsou knows that if some of them had the chance, they’d steal you with no hesitation or regret. He’ll just have to sit and see what the idea Aizawa wants to propose is.

The two of them walk towards each other. A meeting held face-to-face in the middle of the gymnasium.

“I should honestly reprimand you guys for how shittily you’ve treated (L/N) this evening. It’s absurd how ragged you’ve been running them. Absolutely unacceptable. Maybe I should even expel the lot of you after the Purge ends.” Wait, Aizawa could see you too? What, is your peril being broadcasted on live television for the world to see or something?!

“Hey, don’t lump me with those barbarians,” Shinsou pulled back in a look of grievance, “I waited until everything was calm to strike. They were the ones who made (Y/N) run around like a headless chicken.” He tossed his head back to the hypnotized horde.

“Hm. We’ll discuss it as a class later.” Aizawa coughs into his fist.

“Fine. Now, what’s this deal you’ve thought up?” Shinsou prompts the conversation.

“Right. It’s about—,” Aizawa is interrupted by his cautious student.

“(Y/N). Am I right?” Shinsou jumps to the conclusion rather abruptly.

Aizawa glares, “Don’t interrupt someone while they’re talking, Shinsou. It’s rude.”

“But you did that to me not ev—,”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Aizawa purposefully cuts him off, “And yes. It’s about them.”

“Hmph,” Shinsou narrows his eyes at the mention of you, “what do you want with them?”

“Not quite the right question. Change that to more like what can we do for them,” Aizawa twists the words to better fit his narrative.

Intrigued, Hitoshi takes the bait, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I don’t want to outright take them from you,” he shifts his weight to the other foot, “I want to make a deal to share them with you.”

Shouta continues, “Aoyama and his group had a good idea teaming up with Izuku’s crew. Working together, especially when the stronger piers can aid the weaker links, is a much more productive way of going about things. There’s safety in numbers.” Your body freezes up at his words. You connect the dots that he heard, or possibly even saw that whole ordeal. How? Where was he viewing from? Did he watch on a security camera? It’s a likely theory, the school is littered with them. You thought Denki killed the power earlier with his quirk. Or, with a more chilling idea, was he actually there? Physically in the vicinity? How was he nearby, could hear and see the whole event, and you didn’t notice him? Why didn’t he help you? Or, at least, intervene? Your mind is muddled with questions, but the two press on with their conversation.

“Sharing, huh? Thought you liked working alone.” Shinsou prodded, skeptical of the plan.

“Some missions call for an extra set of hands.” Aizawa cooly replied.

“I’m not sure. Not too big on the idea of letting go of them.” Shinsou pulled your bundled-up form closer to his chest. It’s like he’s a little kid—red in the face because of frustration, fighting to keep his stuffie all to himself as an adult asks him to share it with the other kids.

“I’m not asking you to fully let go of them, kid. Just enough so I can take care of them too. They’re a bit of a handful, as I’m sure you’ve no doubt figured out by now,” you whip your head to scowl at him and heatedly shout muffled curses at him, “Heh. My bad, kitten, but it’s true. The trouble your presence kicks up is a lot to handle, even for a pro.” You feel your face heat up in embarrassment at his words. Not that it wasn’t obvious before, but it’s safe to say he is infected as well.

“Plus, what will you do when you can’t control the rest of the students? You and I both know that your quirk doesn’t last forever, and your control is slowly dwindling away, even as we speak. I could help you fend them off, if it comes to it.” Shouta observed. He has a natural way of being extremely persuasive, doesn’t he?

Shinsou isn’t exactly thrilled to give you up, he’d much rather stake his claim on you by himself. His company should be more than enough to fill your time! He doesn’t want time with you to be shared with others he doesn’t approve of. Though…Aizawa isn’t exactly untrustworthy. Hitoshi definitely trusts him more than someone as hazardous as Bakugo, or as miserable to be around as Monoma. He’s a great teacher, even though he’s kind of a hardass. Someone he looks up to. Maybe they could give it a shot? After all, if it doesn’t work out, there’s still plenty of Purge time left for him to find somewhere else to hide and drag you off to when Aizawa isn’t looking.

“Okay. We’ll give your idea a go.” Shinsou begrudgingly complied.

“Good choice, kid.” Aizawa’s lips twitch upward into a minuscule grin. Yet again, your own fate is taken away from you as the two of them close in, grasp hands, and shake to signify the agreement.

“Ooohhh~! What a touching truce, cuties~,” a sugary-sweet voice curls around the boys’ conversation like a hazy morning fog.

“Huh—!” Shinsou isn’t fast enough to react to the intruder as he feels all his senses numb. A dreadfully sweet smell, the same kind of sugary tang that was laced throughout the woman’s voice, invades his nose. It should be disgusting, it should make him sick to his stomach, but the candied scent is nothing short of divine. It’s like nothing he's ever smelled before. It honestly makes him want to inhale more. Which is an action he subconsciously commits, sealing his fate. Shinsou’s legs grow wobbly as he starts to lose feeling all over his body. As unpleasant as he wants it to feel, as he begs it to feel, all he can recognize is a cozy warmth clouding his better judgment. Through the mental and physical struggle, he remembers you’re still sitting prettily in his swiftly weakening arms. He panics, afraid he’s going to, or that he has already dropped you. He glances down.

Well…you used to be there. You’re not anymore.

Shinsou groans, crashing to his knees. He scans the surrounding floor, looking for any trace of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Good news is he didn’t drop you like an idiot. Bad news is someone else has their disgusting hands all over you. That thought makes him want to pick off his own flesh cell by cell, but there’s nothing he can do except lay on the ground and reluctantly drift in and out of consciousness.

“Too bad you’re not as lovely as our sweetheart here. Otherwise, you’d be my plaything too~,” the woman giggles, “But, oh well. Pleasant dream, honey~,” she coos at the purple-haired boy. You’re beyond floored at how quickly Shinsou was subdued, considering the quick work he made of the other students. Curious as ever, you shot your head back and forth to identify who stole the show this time.

The owner of the saccharine voice turned out to be none other than Midnight, your art history and overly-sexual pro hero mentor. She giggles to herself, watching her prey twitch and squirm in retaliation against her quirk on the floor, “While struggling normally is my favorite part of the foreplay, I wouldn’t advise it this time, dear~. Somnambulist isn’t easy to win against. It’s a much more potent sleep agent than your little quirk could ever dream of being.”

“Love that energy, Midnight! Smooth work,” a boisterous voice slices through your eardrums. You cringe at the volume, recognizing that borderline shriek. The person who is now capturing your body is Present Mic! What the hell are all three of your teachers doing here?! Shouldn’t they be like normal people and hide from the Purge?

As if reading your mind, Aizawa coughs to grab his coworkers’ attention, “That was completely unnecessary of you two. A little excessive too. I told you both I could handle the situation on my own. What’re you doing here?”

“Jeez! So cold!” Mic’s voice danced up and down in pitch, “Don’t be so frosty with us, Eraser! We just wanted to help!”

“Yes,” Midnight purred, the click click of her skyscraper-length stilettos stabbing the shellacked ground echoed across the rubble-covered floor, “you think us so shallow! You act as if we thought you couldn’t take care of this, dear. All we believed was it’s nice to have some support on the field, yes~?”

Aizawa, always as sharp as a knife, caught onto their plan effortlessly, “You two just couldn’t wait to get your grubby hands on them, could you?” The two opposing teachers choked on the air in their lungs as he saw through their lies. They fumbled the next few words that streamed out of their mouths, trying desperately through the stutters to justify their cause and deter his wit.

“I see. Hmm…whatever. Either way, you two never fail to overdo it,” Aizawa grumbles to himself, his chin sinking further into the comfort of his scarf, “I guess I’ll need some assistance dealing with the rest of my students over there. They won’t remain hypnotized for much longer now that Shinsou’s down—I’d rather not have to start a physical fight when there’s no need.”

“Oooh~,” Midnight purred, slinking over to the slowly reawakening crowd, “leave this to me, loves~!” The woman proceeded to unleash another plum of her drunkening quirk right as the class snapped out of their haze. You watched as they fell one by one to the floor in sudden exhaustion. Even the strong-willed one couldn’t escape the fate of her noxious gas, dropping limply to the floor in a dreamless slumber.

“Aww, they’re so sweet when they’re not getting in our way.” Mic snickered.

“Mic. Watch it,” Aizawa’s laid-back indifference swiftly shifted into his scary steely gaze as he warned his rambunctious coworker to stop his prattling.

“Whaaaat~??? You gotta admit, your hooligans sure made our night a lot harder!” Hizashi pouted in frustration.

‘When am I gonna catch a break from these…these…wait. What…the…,’ your thoughts slowly lose their path in your head, your mind-numbing and slipping away from coherent ideas. Your limbs feel like the thickest cement in the world when you try to move them. It’s too tough, too much work—and sleeping sounds like a fantastic idea. You’re just so tired. You start to heave for oxygen as if your lungs can never get enough air inside of them. You’re trying so hard to stay awake because you know in the back of your brain as delicious as stopping your fighting to rest sounds, something doesn’t feel right. You can’t remember why. Eventually, it becomes too difficult to keep your head up on your own, so you rest it against Mic’s open shoulder.

Hizashi immediately stops bickering against the stoic man in front of him as he feels your head plop onto his shoulder. Now that his attention is drawn back to you, he realizes you weren’t squirming around as much as he’d expected you to. He knows even past the lingering virus flooding his veins you wouldn’t give in to their advances so easily—as nice as that would have been—so he devotes all his attention to your slumped frame.

“Hey, you alright, doll?” he cranes his head down to catch your unfocused eyes. He jostles the shoulder you were resting on a bit, trying to reel you back from wherever your mind had floated off to, and that seemed to help a little. You tried to talk, but the gag prevented any words from coming out. Catching the barrier, he beckoned his partner in crime over with a quick tilt of his head and a quiet, “Help me get this thing off their mouth, Shouta.”

Without hesitation, your concerned homeroom teacher stepped over and peeled off the tape as gently as he could. Your mouth now freed, you let out an unconscious whine of relief, showing a small bit of happiness at having some bit of freedom back.

“What did you say, sweets?” Mic pressed yet again.

“Mmhn…I…uhm…mmm…nnh,” you mindlessly babbled in a soft voice.

“Come on, (Y/N). How do you feel right now?” Aizawa coaxed, his worry over you hiking higher at your unresponsiveness.

“Hmmm…just…tired…I think…mnnn,” Your eyes couldn’t stay open. They opted to flutter close every time no matter how much Mic shimmed around in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Tired. Hizashi—Midnight’s quirk.” Aizawa said as he caught Hizashi’s fear-filled gaze. Both of their anxiety floated back down at the deduction. You must’ve breathed in too much of the secondhand smoke of the pro hero’s quirk. After all, it is quite potent against those who haven’t experienced it much before. Mic’s jostling changed into more of a rocking motion, trying to lull you further into that blissful rest.

“Ohhhh. Honeycakes! That’s okay—it’s perfectly fine if you need some rest. It’s been a tough day for our snuggle bunny,” he uttered, affectionately nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

“I heard you say my name, Eraser. What’s…oh!” Midnight stopped her sentence when her eyes fell on you. Then, all she could do was squeal at the sight of your sleepy state. She shoved Aizawa out of the way, bent down to your level, and squeezed herself as close to you as she could. She was giggling and chirping in delight at how “adorable” and “absolutely, irresistibly, undeniably cute” you were.

“Awwwwhn~~~!!!” her voice curled up in pitch, her fingers smoothing your loose hairs behind your ear and stroking down your warm cheek, “You are just the sweetest lil’ thing~!! Mommy’s precious angel~. What’s happened, Zashi?” Midnight tilted her gaze up to the blond for an explanation.

He grinned, “Just breathed too much of your quirk in, s’all.”

Midnight loftily snickered, “I see. Glad we were here to take care of them!” In all honesty, she’s beyond pleased that out of any one of her coworkers, her quirk affected you the most. In a way, she saw that as she had the most influence on you—or, in other words, the most power over you. In her eyes, she saw it as you giving yourself to her. Willingly and unafraid. Midnight’s heart is cartwheeling and running laps because she sees this as you caring about her so much that you’d serve her in such a magnificent way. She could eat you up and still be searching for seconds. You’re just perfect for her in every way, shape, and form. Aizawa’s nagging drags her out of her less than innocent desires over you filling her head.

“You need to be more careful about how much of your quirk you release in the future, Midnight.” Aizawa scolds, but scorn is practically nonexistent in his voice. It’s hard to be angry at the effects you’ve been put under when the outcome makes you look so helplessly cute. He’d never admit it, but he’s envious of her quirk, when it can turn you so easily into this version of yourself. The dilated, doe-eyed look your eyes hold as they drift up to see him makes the words die a little in his throat. Perhaps the lecture he was going to give her can wait a little.

“Ahh, I will, Eraserhead. But first, we should head off for that safe spot we arranged with the others.” Midnight commented towards the men while still keening over your dopey state.

“W…Wait,” you grumbled out in a meek voice, “noo…no. I d-don’t…,” your words fell off into babbling mumbles again. It was torture to try and evade her quirk’s effects like this, but you were steadfast in wanting to fight. To flee their unwanted embrace and be alone. But all they did was coo at your brave efforts. Oh, they knew just the perfect things to say to make you feel like you were a mere baby to them. How inadvertently insulting.

“Ssh shh shh~. Awh, I know, honey~. You just feel so tired~,” Midnight sang in a baby-talk tone of voice, brushing the top of your head with the palm of her hand. It was weird, you couldn’t figure out if she saw you as her child or prey. Maybe both. That scares you. Maybe you don’t want to find out any more.

“Don’t worry, sweetie! We’ve got you,” though less scary than the woman currently pinning you, Mic’s mischievous lilt of tone didn’t skate by your observative nature. His eyes seem…darker than when you’d looked at them during one of his happy-go-lucky lectures. Like he was hiding the truth of his words behind a cobweb-like veil of deceit. In fact, Mic was resembling a conniving spider—which made you the ditzy butterfly falling for his web of a trap.

Lethargic and thoroughly worn out from both her quirk and all the running you’ve done, you finally give up. Your body feels warm and tingly, making sleep all the easier to give in to. As darkness flooded your vision and your consciousness finally dove away, Aizawa’s voice filled your ears, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

~ Timeskip ~

Sick. That’s all you felt as the darkness that consumed your thoughts and vision slowly faded. Sick to your stomach. Aching all over. You felt like you were a flimsy shirt thrown into a clothes dryer and left to spin over and over again for three cycles too long.

You tilted your head a bit and promptly groaned at the wave of nausea that swamped your brain. Such a subtle movement caused your whole world to crash sideways into an abysmal painscape. It was like you were zipping around on the shittiest, most rickety roller coaster you’d ever rode. You wanted nothing more than to get off.

All this to say—ow. What the fuck, brain? Why do you hurt me so? That’s all your mind could conjure up at the moment—insults to your own organs—because it hurts too much to think rationally. That was one hell of a shitty rest. It has to be one of the top five worst naps you’ve ever taken. You’ll have to whine about it to Denki after class today, maybe you’ll get some sympathy candy for your brave efforts. Denki…why does it feel like something important happened that he was a part of? Hmm…you can’t put your finger on it right now. Everything’s too drowsy at the moment for logic to be considered. Your eyes are still begrudgingly shut as you twist your torso around, trying to get comfortable again.

That’s the moment you started to become more aware of the outside world around you. Noises of chatter hung in the air like a nagging mosquito. The more you paid attention to the continuous sounds, the more irritating they became. Who was talking so damn much, and why were they making it your problem? Couldn’t they see you were a sick person in need of some goddamn peace and quiet? But, that’s just Class 3-A life, you suppose. None of them ever know when to shut the fuck up. Well, this time, they’d learn! They’d get a piece of your “hungover” mind.

“Oi…,” you grunted out, a snarl vehemently leaking into your tone, “Can’t you guys pipe down?! I’m sorta in the middle of trying to sleep off a nasty headache.”

Maybe your words stung the culprits a bit too much as you heard the room slow to a deathlike silence. No blistering insults were flung back at you from the resident hellhound of Class 3-A Bakugou, no chortles from the jokesters of the bunch, no profuse apologies from the worrywarts—nothing. Just…silence. I mean, you guess that’s the result you wanted; but the tense atmosphere you created is rapidly making you regret your flippant decision.

The encroaching fear made your mind real back to the very moment you woke up. You began rational plotting out the questions that swarmed your mind like hornets to their nest. Wait, where were you again? What time is it? Why do you feel so ill? Why can’t your brain remember what the date is? Something really important was happening before you passed out related to time…passed out. Hold on—that’s right, you passed out!

What the fuck.

You passed out due to what—no…due to who?

Unease finally getting the better of you, you peeped up again, but presenting a much meeker tone this time, “U-Um…guys? Look, I’m…God, I’m sorry for lashing out. I just—my head hurts like hell, I’m sore all over my everywhere, and I don’t know what’s—haannhh…ow, ow, ouch.” As you spewed out the poorly constructed apology, you steadily sat up from whatever hard surface you’d been resting on. The stiff rest stop made you all that more unnerved; it sort of felt like you were on a metal autopsy table. Cold and jarring. As if you were a poor little frog being dissected for all the insatiably curious students to see. It made you want to be swallowed whole by the floor just to escape the distress of the situation. God damnit, why is it still so hard to open your eyes?! They felt like the heaviest slab of lead welded over your eyelids. You forced them open.

Overlooking the blurriness of your vision, you could immediately tell by the general shape of the people standing in front of you that you weren’t in the presence of your beloved classmates like you thought you were.

There were multiple people in the darkened room, all with varying heights and sizes. There weren’t twenty people like how many there are in your class; their numbers were closer to ten or so. Plus, the colors of their outfits didn’t match with your friends’ hero suits you’d come to be extremely familiar with. However, you did recognize the colors and remembered who they belonged to. The answer chilled you to the bone.

You didn’t speak up again in the presence of most, if not all of, your mentors. Yes, your mentors. The adults you interacted with practically every day; who taught you every tactic you knew, who helped you to become a capable hero in the pro world. In fact, you didn’t just not talk, you slumped into yourself a bit. You were afraid. Scratch that—you were beyond afraid. You’d seen, and fought, firsthand against their wrath before. You’ve watched their fights broadcasted on the television, through shaky personally caught videos on the Internet posted by petrified civilians. You’ve worked alongside a few of them through missions and treacherous situations. Hell, you actually battle against one for the right to earn your hero license! That was a tough day, but you’d made it by the skin of your teeth—more than likely only winning because of the unimaginably heavy weights that shackled them as handicaps. In short, they were barbaric beasts on the field. Now…you’re face-to-face with their rage.

Let’s all send a brief prayer for yourself. Maybe your death will be swift and your afterlife pleasant if you beg hard enough.

“My, my, my~,” a sultry voice sang in your right ear, making you shriek at the intrusion of your personal bubble, “such a naughty-mouthed little pet~! Tell me, what brute taught you to speak to your superiors in such a disrespectful way?” It was Midnight again. She was always one to breach your boundaries, whether you wanted her to or not.

She cupped your jaw with one of her hands, pinching and squeezing your gooey cheeks with the other for her pleasure, “Ooooh, precious! How’s your whittle head~?” she cooed while smushing. She wiped away a small bit of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth, making you feel that much more like a ditzy baby. The way she played with you really did remind you of a child messing around with a delicious treat of springy mochi. Perhaps that was what you were to the ravenous woman, a delicacy to be devoured whole. You shivered in fear again.

Another person from across the room let out a high-pitched whistle, one that indicated astonishment or feeling impressed, “Wow! Brat’s got some spunk to ‘em! Good to know they haven’t switched up since we last spoke.” You weren’t as familiar with that voice as you were with your homeroom teachers, but it did strike a chord in your memory. Their youthful cheer didn’t resemble the dread-filled boredom Aizawa’s held, but they didn’t sound crude enough to be another student. Your vision clearing further was the only thing that gave their mystery identity away. It was Power Loader! It feels like forever since the two of you even acknowledged one another. Either way, he’s here now and fully decked out in his hero gear. The heavy equipment gave you a unique foreboding feeling that his abilities weren’t just all that meets the eye.

“Midnight, step aside, please.” A mellow voice takes control of the conversation. Midnight looks over her shoulder in disdain, as if the very notion of her being politely asked to leave your side is the most disrespectful thing someone could have asked her to do, but it seems that whoever popped the question meant real business. She stepped aside with a huff of frustration, mumbling under her breath curses, and something along the lines of ‘the gall’.

Once she moved, the requester hopped onto the table where you sat. They pushed into your personal space as well. You opted to lean back as much as the encroacher would allow you. From the astronaut-resembling helmet that donned their head and the puffy jacket they wore, you came to the obvious conclusion that this was 13, another member of the faculty here at UA.

She moved your head—left to right, up and down, and in a full circle. She checked all around the front of your body, and basically anywhere that you allowed her to get close to. 13 looked back deeply into your eyes before twisting back to face the bunch, “They don’t appear to be physically hurt on the outside. No scrapes, cuts, sprains, or anything broken. All that I could really deduct was their dilated pupils, meaning the effects of Somnambulist are still present,” 13 whirled forward to you, “Feeling at all hazy, woozy, or tired, (Y/N)?”

You simply stared back at the expressionless black mask 13 wore. You didn’t know what to say—half because you were uncomfortable at how close she was, and half because you were still bracing yourself to get your ass beat by the less merciful of the teachers. Your mind is drawing to blanks as you’re frozen with your jaw left hanging open.

“(Y/N)?” 13 snaps her fingers in front of your face, semi-dragging you out of your tizzy, “Hello? How are you feeling, dear?”

Ignoring the uncalled-for nickname, you wobbled your head about to snap out of whatever stupor you were stuck in, “Aaaah…um…good. I think. Still…vision’s still a bit blurry, head’s kinda fuzzy, but it’s okay. I can’t really feel my legs yet, I guess.” You tried kicking your feet back and forth, and while you could see them sway, you didn’t feel the sensation of your tendons pulling the limbs.

“Alright, that’s okay.” 13 dismounts the desk to face the crowd, “They’ll be fine. Just give their system time to recover from the grogginess. Next time, Midnight, go easier with how much of your toxins you release! They could’ve gotten severely hurt if they inhaled too much.” 13 scolds the tall woman.

Midnight scoffs, “Ugh! Why, I would never intentionally hurt my love bug like that! I swear, you act like I haven’t been controlling my quirk for my whole life!”

“Midnight, we have to set an example for our students, and lying isn’t how we do that. You should acknowledge you do go overboard sometimes,” craggy words tumbled through Midnight’s attempt to save her ass. Off to her side is the stony fortress of a hero, Cementoss, the one who spoke against her. While he is a man (or is he a rock? You’re not too sure even after all these years being a student under him) of few words, he does have the occasional snarky comeback in his vocabulary when he isn’t prattling off haikus and other unheard of analogies for life’s troubles you haven’t heard before. You’re pretty sure that half of what he says is made up on the spot, and you’ve occasionally tested how far you could push his knowledge before by asking him tough questions like “What is the meaning of life?” or “How did the universe come into being?”.

Before Midnight could pulverize the stone man into pebbles, the final guest you could see hanging in the back of the room piped up, “Can we please stop fumbling around like nimrods and get back to the matter at hand?” Inky, sludgy, and methodical in his dialect, it was no shock that its owner was the shadowy hero known to you as Ectoplasm. You’d interacted with him even less than the others, but you weren’t oblivious to his strength. You’d seen the fight between Tsu and Tokoyami against this predator, and you are happy to admit that he wasn’t your enemy on the field that day.

After briefly scanning the room once more, it seemed that everyone who was there had spoken up. Well, except for Aizawa and Present Mic, they seemed to be having a private conversation with themselves. Glances they threw in your direction, no matter how embarrassingly obvious Mic was being or the tenuousness of Aizawa’s, made it hard to ignore their scalding stares. It was borderline disturbing to see Mic so stationary. You wished he’d stop freaking you out and start yelling in your face like he always does. At least that would be one thing that hadn’t changed with the Purge.

“Precisely. Where were we? Please remind us, Ectoplasm.” Cementoss, equally over the distractions going on, encouraged the conversation forward.

“We were talking about our options. What to do for the rest of the Purge. How to proceed with the plan.” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing that could have been explained. Plan? What plan was he talking about?

“‘Listen, we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round with these ideas for over an hour now,” HUH?!?! EXCUSE YOU, BUT WHAT DID HE SAY?! There was no time to stop their conversation to ask if Power Loader was or wasn’t exaggerating the time that had passed as he pushed on, “Why can’t we just go? I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this room.”

“What, and storm out here with no strategy? Yeah, that’s the best idea we’ve heard tonight.” Aizawa finally tossed his opinion into the ring and—surprise, surprise—it’s another gripe.

“We do have a plan—and a solid one at that! I just said it’s all we’ve been discussing ever since we stepped foot into this bloody room!” Power accused.

“No,” 13 cut in, “the plan you’re talking about is the one we’ve fine-tuned to get out of the school. What Eraser’s referring to is what we’re going to do once we leave the school grounds.” She stepped over to you while giving her speech and wipes your face down with a damp, cool towel. You’re not sure where she dispensed it from, but you supposed that since she specializes in search and rescue missions, she’s bound to have supplies of the like to help in stressful situations built into her hero suit.

“Easy! We run and gun our way out until we find a safe spot! A simply perfect plan. Okay? Let’s go.” Power said with finality.

“For being a seasoned pro, you’re much too antsy. You’re rushing this operation. If you keep sprinting through the important discussions, there will be major consequences.” Cementoss threatened. Power scoffed at the man’s slightly pretentious behavior.

“Think about it,” 13 tried to reason, “There are hundreds of pro heroes out there. Half infected, half not—give or take a handful. For however many pros around out there, there are at least six times as many civilians out there who are either running for their freedom or others who are trying to take that from their darlings. It is too risky to bring them out into a world like that.” Them? Hold on, do they mean you?! No way in hell are you being taken out into the shit storm that the big city has become! You’ve seen how the Purge demolishes the city in years prior. You saw what the news predicted it would be like tonight. Chaos. Pure chaos filled with dangerous, virus-infected people and villains simply trashing the place because they are able. You came into the school to seek shelter in one of the safe rooms to avoid the city, and they want to bring you into it? They can’t do this to you! Have they completely lost it?

Well, you knew that much, but still!

“He’s right, though,” Present Mic finally spoke up from his unusual voicelessness, “We can’t stay here all night waiting for some miracle to spring up. We’ve gotta take some action.” His shoulders buckled inward to show his agitation.

“And no one is saying that we will stay, Mic.” Cement’s sensible attitude never fails to shine through the stress of a tough discussion.

“But you are saying that. You know it…because you’re afraid. We all are afraid.” Mic grabbed everyone's attention because of how softly his words came out.

“I mean, we all know who exactly is out there,” Mic somberly stood and walked over to your side. You wanted to shimmy away from how close he got, but you chose to sit still to hear what else he had to say, “It’s not an if or maybe situation—he is looking for them. Maybe staying in the school has some perks. At least here he can’t get to them without breaking down a few thick walls.” At Mic’s dreadful outlook, everyone’s prepared responses fell into stifling silence. Who is he talking about? Why do you feel a shiver scaling up your spine at the faceless adversary? All this anticipation is going to make you go insane for real this time.

“It’s true. But UA isn’t safe either. We’re not alone and we aren’t the only ones in this building who’re interested in them. Those confounding kids of yours are still around, Aizawa.” Ectoplasm countered. Finally finding the place in the conversation where you can speak, you took your chance.

“Are you talking about the rest of my class?” you breathed out. The teachers spun their heads to give you their full attention. It creeped you out—their devotion to hearing you speak as if it was gospel—but you guess this virus is handy when you need to grab the attention of a bustling room.

“Glad you can still find your voice, sweets.” Mic praised you with a gentle pat on the top of your head. A total switch up from his gloomy personality just prior.

“And, yes, we are.” Ectoplasm sighed, sending one of his clones to your side. The clone didn’t do much except lay their hand on your head and brush your hair back, “They've proven to be quite…driven in their resolve to keep you by their sides.”

“Meaning they’re being a real pain in our—,” Mic’s interrupted by Aizawa’s scarf strangling the bottom half of his face to cease the loud man’s babbling.

“Hmmn, you guys take everything so personally,” Midnight bemoaned, propping her spike-heeled shoes against the side of one of the many desks around, “the children are just playing together, ‘is all! In fact, they’re making this night much more fun for me hehe~.” You cringed, and the only word running through your mind was ‘creepy.’

“Yes. Be kind, Mic. They haven’t been a bother for some time now.” Cementoss spoke with a grateful tone of voice.

“Well, it’s no wonder they haven’t been.” Power Loader huffed while resting his body back onto a nearby table.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You shifted up further to give the conversation your full attention. Once you were up, a slight tightness on your wrists captured your distracted brain. You glanced down and saw binding on your wrists. They were bound with tape. Tape…oh! That’s right! You were taped up by Sero before this shit show happened! You scanned your body up and down and didn’t see any of his tape around anything but your hands. It’s gone from your mouth too since you can speak to the teachers. You guess you’re thankful that they at least gave you the freedom to wiggle your legs around. Nonetheless, you’re still unforgivable-level mad at them for being dicks and holding you hostage.

“He means that ever since Shinsou caught them under his hypnosis, and Midnight leaked her Somnambulist to put them under, they’ve been sound asleep in the gymnasium.” Ectoplasm’s words curl up like a snake wrapping around its helpless prey. You feel less comforted by Ecto’s clone lovingly stroking your head now. That means no one else has been looking for you ever since Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight took you. Goody gumdrops.

“Yea’,” a new, twangy voice plucks into the conversation, “and it seems they ain’t rearin’ up again for some time.” It echoed from the entrance of the room a few feet ahead of your spot by the windows, so you craned your neck to the side to see past the teachers blocking the way.

His foreign accent was a big hint, but if there was any confusion as to who exactly was speaking, his masked appearance confirmed his identity. Snipe was perched against the door frame, slacked back against the wooden frame, and bending his knee to rest one of his spurred cowboy boots on the frame as well. Since when did he get there? You don’t recall seeing him when you scanned the room earlier. What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the doorframe rested Vlad King, Class 3-B’s homeroom teacher. You watched him side-eye his coworkers and, opposite to the rest, he stayed silent. Quiet, analytical. You haven’t interacted with him as much as you have with the others since he’s not one of your main teachers, but you’re certain from the way he and Aizawa have this sort of one-sided rivalry going on between them that he’s not one to be taken lightly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” barked Present Mic, “what are you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be guarding the door!”

“We decided to come in when we heard you lot yappin’. Wanted to see if our blossom was alright.” Okay, these corny nicknames were getting to be a little much—and it was becoming hard to not laugh at them when Snipe’s Western country-ass voice tried to say it so seriously.

“Yeah, right. You just wanted to see them.” Power Loader grumbled on his lonesome. Jealous much?

“Great, the peanut gallery’s all here.” you chuckled to yourself. Honestly, it was a smartass remark that was only meant for your ears to hear, but you should’ve known better than to mutter in the presence of such high-profile, analytical, pro heroes.

“Watch your tone, (L/N). I’ve taught you better than to speak to your superiors like that.” Aizawa’s steely gaze came to life, an intimidating red glow directly pointed your way. His mop of bushy, black hair billowing up to dangle in midair. It drifted about like a bed of kelp swaying with the brush of the ocean’s currents. All the built-up energy you didn’t realize was coursing through your veins came to a staggering halt, The strength permeating your limbs immediately drained. You’ve been under the influence of Aizawa’s quirk before when you were caught in the mix of his frustrations at the pranksters of your class, so this wasn’t an unexplored feeling, but it was still jarring to be stripped of all your powers you so flippantly take for granted.

As you looked around, you realized your statement was wrong—not all of the teachers were there. Not apologizing for telling the truth, you continued your comments as though Aizawa had never threatened you, “Ixnay that—not everyone's here. Where’s the rest of them?” Aizawa sighed and released you from the hold of his power when he realized you were simply ignoring his wrath. Honestly? He tips his hat to you for the response. Avoiding confrontation is sometimes the best course of action.

“Huh? Oh! Ha ha, you’re so clever! We brought it up briefly to the other staff members but—,” Power Loader had begun, but he was soon interrupted.

“They either had no interest or were busy with other plans for the Purge.” Vlad finally spoke up from his dark corner. Right, you remember why you don’t speak to him all that often. He scared the living shit out of you. At least you can have a somewhat decent conversation with Aizawa. With Vlad King, it’s always cold-shoulders and overdramatic frustration to simple questions you ask him. Those brief few words reeked such deadly poison, as if saying that anyone could ignore you was a crime against humanity. His facial expression showed his irritation, a frown stretching down his worn features and a frustrated crinkle cut between his eyebrows.

“Thanks. I was in the middle of getting to that.” Power snarked at the behemoth hero.

“We asked All Might if he wanted to come along with us,” 13 chirped, “but he declined as well. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he’s around.”

“Yeah! Not to mention how he responded! Something like,” Mic made his voice stretch lower into his register with a profound, macho gusto, and a large smile—an All Might smile—grew on his lips, ""HA HA! I appreciate the offer, friends, but I will be alright on my own! Good luck to you! I am off!”, and ran off to who knows where. Weird!”

“You guys never let me say the important parts of the stories.” Power scowled to himself.

“Gotcha,” you acknowledged the length of explanation, “So…what happens now?” you prodded.

“Now,” Midnight coos at a distance that is yet again too close for comfort, “we get to have fun with you~.”

“WHAT?! I’m not some class pet. Find a guinea pig somewhere else!” you wriggled away from the dastardly woman.

“Endearing how much control you think you have over the situation,” Aizawa smirked. You hated his comfort in the idea of a fictional complacency, one that was only caused by your own fear of speaking against them, “Stop playing naive, (L/N).”

In an effort to distract yourself from his stare, you pressed, “What’s the big plan after all this then?”

“After what, dearest?” Midnight mused. She reached a hand to your hair and softly massaged your shoulders. Quite done with the games they played, you shook her lingering touches off.

“After the Purge is over. What do you plan to do with me?” You wanted to add a sassy ‘obviously’ somewhere in that question, but you held your tongue for now. We’ll see how long that lasts.

“Sweetie~, we plan to have you as ours!” Midnight purred, circling around you like a beast going in for the kill. You rolled your eyes—how vexing can this woman be?

“Wow! That’s so funny, I forgot to laugh.” You threw out a half-assed pity laugh for the pro. You looked at the other pros for some kind of confirmation that Midnight was just being her usual lofty self, but when no comforting gaze reached your eyes, you felt your grin crumble.

“Eh…heh. Alright, that’s how we’re playing this. All the unfunny jokes aside—Hell freaking NO am I letting you lot take me anywhere. I’m not going willingly! I kick, I scream, and I do bite. I’m feral, bitc—,” You managed to squirm hard enough that you actually broke away from whoever was holding you the tightest in the ball of limbs. You slid off the glossy table and slunk back a few feet. It was just spacious enough for you to finally get a deep breath in from the overwhelming physical affection but you were nowhere near a safe distance from the psychos of UA.

“Willingly isn’t an issue. Plenty of us have quirks that can make you submit easily. Resistance will only produce failure for you. I don’t want to be forced to hurt your miniscule feelings.” Vlad gruffed out. He truly reminded you of an English bulldog—grumpy and hard-headed to the extreme.

“Oh, be sweeter, Vlad! Don’t scare the poor thing before we’ve had our fun.” 13 tried to reason with the ice-cold man.

“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.

“No, you’re being a wet blanket,” Mic advised with a casual whistle.

“Shut up.” The white-haired man huffed out a pointed wind of air. With tusks as sharp as nails protruding out of his mouth, harsh huffs of breath that escaped his nose, and rising anger visibly seeping from his form, it made the image of him in your mind morph from cute, grumpy bulldog to a ravenous warthog.

“No, you shut up!” Power Loader lept on the chance to start bickering with Vlad King as he was still irritated at him for stealing his thunder.

“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty. Now, can we please get back to the much more pleasant person of interest?” Midnight tried to get the boys to back off, but her joke only made them that much more infuriated.

“Who’re you calling pretty?!” Vlad whipped his head over to the purple-haired sex fiend.

“Fix your words, Midnight, or I’ll give you something to be sorry for.” Vlad reared in, sneering at the woman something fierce.

“Here we go,” Aizawa muttered while shrinking further into his tall scarf tower.

“Nice one, Nemuri.” Hizashi bumped her with his elbow.

“I apologize…for you being a whiny BITCH!” You could practically see the overexaggerated sweat drop slip down the rest of the teachers’ heads as the beast of a man went off the rails from Midnight’s claim. He started stomping around, bellowing and nearly tossed a table across the room. You stood there and just…watched the man go from a professional, stoic, respectable instructor to a crybaby throwing the most dangerous tantrum known to mankind.

Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.

Would he have preferred gorgeous?

That joke, while absolutely hilarious and should have been told for at least someone to hear its magnificence, you held in your throat so you didn’t get bitch slapped by a heavy office chair and receive a one-way ticket, all-expense-paid trip to God’s doorstep. You used the teacher’s being distracted with trying to calm the raging boarman down as an opportunity to scan for available exits. They were currently blocking the only door in or out, so that way out was an absolute no-go. You looked behind you and saw another door, but it didn’t look like it would provide a fruitful escape. By process of elimination, it would most likely be another closet that had no exit—and you DID NOT want to be stuck in one of those again. It was a miracle that the one earlier tonight had one! You do not want to try your luck again with much more threatening opponents in your way.

Inspecting further, there didn’t appear to be any other doors around to scamper out of. The last option you had was the large pane windows facing the outside, normally providing you with quite a beautiful bird’s eye view of the city. While it was an escape route, the task of escaping after exiting would be less than ideal. You were currently at least six storeys off of the ground, and you couldn’t guarantee that your quirk would save you from that high of a drop. Plus, the roof was still at least a few floors upwards, so you couldn’t hang out of the window and easily grab a railing. Not that you’d be sneaky enough to do that without alerting the bickering party of adults in front of you. You weren’t sure where else you could turn to avoid a serious temper tantrum.

Shatter.

A window to the side of where you were standing abruptly splintered away. A rush of the chilled night air flooded the room with one thorough sweep. The infiltration was not caused by the window simply breaking due to a strong gust of wind or a tree branch breaking the surface. No—it turned out to be a rather unwelcome intruder.

“Heyo~,” a certain bombshell blond’s lilting tone filled the thick tension in the boardroom. Your eyes zeroed in on the hero’s iconic ruby-red wings and instantly knew who it was. Hawks! You’d seen him in the field before from a distance, even captured his attention for long enough to have a brief conversation. A certain twist in your chest wrung out the breath filling your lungs when you thought about his suave nature that day.

You were there with your three main boys the day you’d met Hawks. You had just started working at Endeavor’s agency because of the generous offer provided to you by Todoroki during the Holiday party. It was certainly kind of him to extend his hand to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You tackled him in a hug, and you watched obliviously how he nearly short-circuited at the affection. Though the day you all met up to head off, Bakugou had been acting a little salty around Shoto that afternoon after discovering that he had reached out to you too to join them, but you figured it was just usual Bakugou. Always waking up on the angry side of the bed. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s because none of them wanted to make fools of themselves in front of you. Him especially. You are quite oblivious to the “more-than-just-friends” affection they had for you, but Deku was happy keeping it that way. After a bit, the four of you had settled in together and met Shoto’s father.

No thanks to Bakugou’s “stellar” introduction with the pro, Endeavor had put his foot down to deny taking on other interns, other than his own son. Thankfully, hero work is never finished, as a villain attacked then and there. All of you sprung into action despite Endeavor’s denial, and that is when you saw it. Or, rather, him. Red spears descending from the sky like Valkyries swooping in to protect the weak. You saw soon enough that these weren’t spears, they were feathers. The winged hero, Hawks, aided Endeavor in taking down the crazed terrorizer effortlessly. No hesitancy or mercy. Not so much as a bead of sweat lining his forehead either. After recuperating, you and Izuku practically tackled the man in an effort to meet him.

In the staggeringly casual meeting, he was pleased to say he already knew about you from your close friend, Tokoyami. However, he pretty much overlooked the green-haired puffball as he stuck you down with his unnerving amber pools. Hawks suavely shared that he was especially excited to meet you specifically. We’re these most likely only sugar-coated words to get your heart racing for the notorious playboy? Rationally, absolutely. His ego knew no bounds—he’d do anything to get the fans swooning for his flippant affections. Yet, you fell for it nonetheless. You hopelessly played the perfect giddy fan as you devoured all his teasing remarks, his infatuation with your quirk, and his cocky winks. A peck of his lips strategically gifted to the back of your hand was given to no doubt solidify a good relationship, but you nearly passed out. You gushed at the attention before, and you probably would again. You were no different from any faces in his crowd of fans that he interacted with. Or so you thought.

He soon took off after meeting with Bakugou and Shoto briefly. You’d geeked out about the interaction afterwards to the boys. An blatant envy to Hawks’ ease at impressing the masses, you as well now included, made them stumble at their advances. Izuku buried his own jealousy at the hero by directing your attention back to what the rest of the day had planned, and it distracted him from the negative feelings too, thankfully. Shoto had crossed his arms and stood as a silent watcher to walk alongside you. You did catch that he was standing rather close to you. Bakugou only spat insult after insult about the bird brain and the hot-headed waste of a father, hoping that tarnishing the memory of Hawks in your mind would get your mind off of that loser and onto him. He soon cooled off, and became a bodyguard beside you, like Shoto, mumbling to himself about how “pointless” it was to chat with the likes of that douche.

You knew that this meeting was no accident. Hopefully, the hero is here to save you from this awful nightmare. Though, he didn’t show up alone.

“Hawks,” Snipe grumbled a rugged greeting, quite obviously ticked off that the snarky bastard was ruining their sanctuary, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, not here for any particular reason. Flyin’ around, stopping to smell the roses…,” he lolled his head to look right at you, a devilish smirk lining his strikingly handsome face.

“Inspecting suspicious activity in the area.” A velvety smooth voice strikes up from behind you. You jump and whip your head to the side to see the culprit. Laying a gentle, yet comforting, grip on your shoulder was the famous Rabbit Hero: Mirko. You hadn’t really gotten a chance yet to interact with her in your journey as an aspiring hero. You’d heard about her competitive nature through various interviews you’d seen her in. You’d never felt more like prey than now, underneath her sight. Nonetheless, she was even more stunning than the media could convey. Her white locks draped along your shoulder as she peered down over you, the faint scent of lavender and earthy rubble wafting into your senses. Rumi’s piercing blood-tinged irises looked down upon you with a satisfactory expression. The lingering glint of fire locked within her gaze guided you to understand that whatever was driving her on this mission to confront your captors was far from fizzling out.

You’d heard some about personal interactions with her from Bakugou and Midoriya when they worked with her in the field. Deciphering Bakugou’s turn of phrase you’ve come to be fluent in after all these years, you gauged that she wasn’t too bad of a coworker. He’d said she was strong and that she had a kick that was no joke. When Bakugou remembered something about the people he fought alongside, you knew they left some impression on him—good or bad. He did make a point to reiterate that she only “gets in his way”, but he regards everyone that way, so it’s not a huge concern. Midoriya mostly info-dumped about her quirk and every fighting tactic he’d thought up to either aid her or counter her, but you didn’t mind his ramblings. Animal-based quirks like hers were always intriguing to learn about, and you’d appreciated him taking the time to tell you all the information he’d drug out of the woman. They both agreed (shockingly) they would like to work with her again.

You asked some of the girls of 3-A what they thought of Mirko before, and were surprised when they all nearly trampled you in their freak-out fangirling over the woman. Hagakure gushed over how much she loved what Mirko was doing for the community of women in the pro hero society. She adored how Mirko showed the world that women weren’t just damsels in distress; that the power and strength they hold mentally and physically is one to behold. Mina giddily hugged your arm as she declared the hero gave her confidence to not hide any of her more eccentric or “out-of-the-norm”, as she put it, features. Momo allowed herself to become vulnerable as she shared how Mirko taught her how if others don’t have confidence in your abilities you have to be your own advocate. Perfectionism was rampant in the poor girl, and she had such high expectations for herself. Seeing Momo learning to be more gentle with herself was comforting.

 Jiro and Uraraka explained all the ways she really was a fantastic figure for women, not simply aspiring heroes, to look up to. Strong, snarky, never afraid to throw a quick insult or punch to any ignorant when she needed to. Mirko was not known to be a passive presence; she made sure you know exactly what her opinion on any matter is when she gets in your face to tell you it. Since she wasn’t attached to an agency, most would think she’d be an outcast, but they’d be wrong. The girls told you how she was a lone wolf type, that she’d rather handle everything her own way. You admired her for that. Mirko’s belief of not fitting in with the crowd to instead be at the front lines of encouraging others to break the mold society says you should fit is one to be coveted.

“How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Mirko warmly asked you. You froze when you heard your name fall from her lips. How did she know you? You’d never met face-to-face before in your life! She’s even prettier than the photos snapped by her paparazzi could try to convey.

“Are these guys giving you any trouble~?” Hawks ruffled your hair as he sprouted up next to you like a daisy in a sunny meadow. You felt your face heat up at their actions, not getting used to the unwavering attention of such prestigious members of the Hero Agencies. Also, they’re two of the most gorgeous people in all of Japan. Even a sparse glance in someone’s direction would be enough to make anyone crumple to their knees—nevermind that they’re actually addressing you. You were having a hard time standing up on your own, knees wobbly and jittery, your eyes bouncing back and forth between the two in a fumbling manner. All you could think about was not making a total fool of yourself in front of your heroes. That’s about when you realized you hadn’t responded to them, leaving everyone listening with bated breath at your silence.

You wanted to slap yourself for the silly star-struck reaction, “Oh! I–um…,”

“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Surprisingly, Cementoss’ usual composed tone took a frozen turn. Guess he didn’t appreciate the two of them being here. In fact, it looked to be that most of the teachers in that room didn’t care much for the pros being present, all of them having a crinkled up forehead and scowles dotting their lips. That, or the frustration is from the broken window. Whoops.

“They’d feel more fine if you’d back off.” Vlad King, who had finally calmed down, cautioned the duo. Though he’d cooled off his ramage, you could see the irritated vein popping out underneath his skin, so another outburst was sure to loop back around. Whether it was expressed in a hunched posture, snippy tone, or the expression on their faces; the teachers all agreed on one thing. These two were trouble and had to be escorted away from their darling now.

“Yeesh! What a tough crowd, Mirko!” Hawks overdramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. He leaned his body backwards, grasping his other hand over his chest where his heart lies, and wailed out in a helpless maiden-like tone. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he’s such a drama queen. It’s silly, but also somewhat charming, in a way.

“Ha! Seems so, Hawks. Hey, chill out, we’re only here to play babysitter, old timer.” Mirko snickered to herself. Hawks joined in her light-hearted teasing with a bright chortle of his own. His laugh formed from a cluster of tiny clicks rattling through his teeth.

“...What was that, little lady?” Vlad’s temper was never one to back down as he cracked his knuckles. You felt Mirko’s hand clasp tighter around your shoulder at Vlad’s choice of words. You could tell she wanted to go off on him and rip him to shreds both verbally and physically, but held her tongue. Now was not the time to start a war.

“Eh, don’t take it so personally, King! She was just pointing out the obvious~,” Hawks egged the man on. Seems to be Hawks didn’t agree with the “no war” idea. You were beginning to get a bit nervous with the pros’ language. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the boar man’s tantrum, as previously mentioned, so why were they purposefully lighting his fuse?! At least move you out of the way first before digging their own grave! Though, you might get pushed into it with them when you can’t dodge their crossfire.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 13 sneered at the shade.

“You’re all…wise from all your experiences,” words posing as carefully chosen by Hawks no doubt fired up the two more.

“But (Y/N) needs protection from a fresher-faced cast. If you catch our drift~,” Mirko finished for her quick-witted partner.

“That is why you’re all gathered, right? For the Purge?” Hawks anything but innocently asked the group. Those who weren’t lost in their own rage showed a glimpse of hesitation in the answer. Hawks, willing to take a mile from the inch they gave him, ran with their slip-up.

“So, it is true. Judging by the switch in your behaviors, and from that out of the ordinary hue in your irises, seems to me like this lot caught the illness. Probably from those students bulldozing through the school. Can you believe it, Mirko?” Hawks swiftly closed the little distance between you two by slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“I can. They’ve been in such close proximity, it’s no wonder they caught it. I’m just disappointed. They’re supposed to protect people like our lovely (Y/N) here from these incidents. Instead, they’re fueling the catastrophe Hmm. You must’ve been so scared running away from these shit excuses for teachers.” Mirko brought her hand to your cheeks and pinched them together to make your lips pout outward.

“Hey! You know that’s bull—,” Power Loader barked as he leaned across a nearby table.

“What were you sickos planning to do with them, huh? Make them your slave after this night,” Hawks unapologetically interrupted the man, a silence washing over the room at the question being sprung, “Force them to be at your beck and call for everything? Splay their body out to satisfy your needs whenever and wherever you wanted? Disgusting.” Hawks veered his body in front of yours to shield it with one of his huge red wings. The more he talked about what your captors would do to you after the Purge, the more fear reeved up to course through your veins. While thinking about the possibilities of what would happen after the Purge if you were caught, Hawks’ accusations had crossed your mind, but you tried to ignore them earlier. They wouldn't…they’d respect your wishes even if you…belonged to them after all this! They—not your friends, nor your teachers—wouldn’t do those horrible things to you.

And yet, based on everything that’s happened thus far…

You’re not sure anymore.

You shrunk into Mirko’s side deeper, wishing to disappear from the conversation of your fate entirely. You felt her wrap an arm around your waist, and you felt safer with the basically strangers than you had all night long with your long-time partners. You wanted to cry from the relief of finally having somewhere safe to turn. You held the tears back to see where their confrontations would lead.

You felt Mirko lead your stiff body with fleeting strides. She was obviously trying to give you an out, so you went willingly. Just let them do as they please. Anything to get out of this suffocating mess. Hawks caught on to her.

“How dare you try to make those foolish claims against us,” Aizawa began, rage climbing high in his heart. He reached for his infamous scarf and pulled the end piece out, preparing for his attack. Screw playing nice. Screw relying on others. Fuck letting these idiots walk all over him. The nerve of this flashy waste of space dictating him to be the kind of monster that would take advantage of you. You’d been in his life for so long now that he hardly even tries to remember the times without you and his other students. So many tough challenges your class has faced, and yet, each hurdle was leapt over with no hesitation. Your entire class had brought him such joy over the years through the sorrow. His kids. However, you and Shinsou undoubtedly claimed the prize to share the number one spot on his favorites list. You’d been so attentive and caring over him when he’d left you to flounder for air. Late nights powering through boring essays, countless assignments completed only an hour before they were due, the weekend study sessions that almost always turned into game nights or gossiping over snacks that he’d seen you participate in with your other friends. You work so tirelessly to be a good student and attentive friend. That effort wasn’t unnoticed by his watchful eye.

There were many more less impactful moments shared that, dare he say, mean even more to him than the death-defying acts you’d survived together. Chats over the positive current life events with him drinking his standard cup of muddy brown coffee and you casually sipping your own beverage. Walks around campus with him, Midoriya, Tokoyami, Ojiro, and you. The sky gleaming a dazzling aqua blue with the sun sparkling overhead, but not in an overwhelming glare. Puffy clouds dancing in the air. A pleasant, flowery breeze twirling past you. One late night in the common room when he was making his last round to make sure everyone was securely in their dorms, he found you sitting on the couch brushing off the aggressive tears slipping down your cheeks.

When he’d made his presence known that night, you’d shot up like a fired bullet off the comfy sofa, scrubbing your puffy eyes in an attempt at covering up the residual cry session. You’d greeted him warmly with a laughing cough to hide your choked up throat, but he shut down your plan of concealment by hinting that he’d already seen your sadness flowing. That night he sat beside you and talked. Talked about what you were upset about, talked through your doubts, fears, and resentment over how you didn’t know what you were going to do now. Gave you a sorrow-filled look when you broke down into a fit of violent sobs again. He even sat with you in a lingering, but reassuring, silence after your sobs faded.

Only then did Aizawa release a sliver of his own castle walls to give you a hug holding as much love as he could spare from his withered and beaten heart. He told you many ways how your class had changed him to be a better man. How you inspired him to keep pushing himself to look ahead to what beauty the future could hold. Aizawa promised you that night that no one was going to abandon you like you’d feared. He promised to always be there for you whenever you needed his support. All he needed was for you to reach out, and he’d claw up any bit of strength he had left to come rescue you like the hero he promised Oboro and Hizashi he would become. Today was no different from back then.

These fakes weren’t going to tarnish his cherished memory of that night with you. That night, when you’d smiled back up at him with a wobbly grin and soggy eyes, now glistening with hope from his words, you should have known he wouldn’t let some nobodies crush your heart. These wretches didn’t stand a chance.

Power Loader cut Aizawa off to continue, “We would never. Stop trying to scare them like that!”

13, back to her reasonable self, even tried coaxing you, “(Y/N), they are lying. We would never betray you. Now, if you’d please come back here—,”

Feeling bolder with allies at your side, you forced your lips to move to stop their rambling lies, “Why should I believe a single word that comes out of any of your mouths?!” The room fell into stillness. It was as if the whole world had shut itself up to give you the stage to speak your mind.

Fed up and running off of pure adrenaline, you continued, “None of you have asked for my opinion on anything that has happened tonight. You don’t care what I have to say; all you give a shit about is doing whatever the fuck you want to me. You didn’t tell me what you were planning. You spied on me, you kidnapped me, and kept me stuck in this hell as your little hostage all night!

“Even if you did care about me, it was only to find out what you could gain from me for your selfish desires.” You downcasted your eyes at their knife-like glares.

Tears welled up and this time you couldn’t stop them from dragging down your tired face. You took a shaky breath to fill your deflated lungs, “I…I understand this virus has…changed you. I understand whatever you’re going through isn’t easy to fight against. But I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to any of you. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing. I just…can’t know. I’m too scared to even try to begin searching for the answer. My classmates have become the same as you—completely changed from who they are. They’ve been hunting me down. And now this thing has taken my teachers too?” Your lips wobbled at the realization of your loss.

“Ha…it’s like one sick joke the world is playing against me,” an exasperated laugh bled from your vocal chords, “I don’t know how it’s making you feel, but I know what it is making you do to me. You’re scaring me. I don’t feel safe. Around any of you. It isn’t crazy to consider you’d force me to do…other things too.”

You caught Aizawa’s eyes when you looked up. You turned away to save yourself from the heartbreak of his torn expression.

You curled into Hawks’ back, shrouding your emotional husk of a body in his fluffy feathers. You allowed the last few dying words left in your quaking heart to wheeze out, “Please. Leave me alone. Please.” Whether your teachers were mad at you for speaking against them, or if they wanted to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness, you had no clue. All you know is that Hawks whips around, gathers your trembling form in his arms, and takes a couple of steps back from Mirko.

“Hang on tight.” He gently whispers to you. Unconsciously, you obeyed, and securely held onto the fizzy collar of his iconic jacket.

“We’ll be watching over them for the rest of the Purge.” That cold, nonchalant jab to the teachers was the last fleeting acknowledgment Mirko threw at them. Hawks spread his wings.

“Next time, before you go destroying the mental and emotional well-being of your students, get a grip on reality.” The finality of Hawks’ tone was filled with all the venom that he felt you lovingly held back. Your kindness is not what this lot deserves. With that, he flapped his humongous wings a few times to kickstart his ascension and took off with you pressed tightly against him. He soared up and out of the broken window, making sure to cover you properly so you didn’t get sliced or stabbed by any broken glass. You watched Mirko clamber out of the rickety window from over his shoulder, land on the edge of the concrete window sill, and use her legs to jump as high into the air as she could.

You watched in awe as she practically flew up several storeys, confidently grasp the edge of the railing atop the roof, and gently sling herself onto the roof without so much as a hiccup. Judging by the trajectory of where Hawks was flying, he too was aiming for the roof. Not like you cared at this point. As long as you were away from them, you’d be fine to go anywhere they took you.

“We at Air Hawks thank you for flying with us on this gorgeous evening, esteemed passenger. We have now reached our destination, the rooftop of the illustrious UA High. The weather outside is clear skies at a balmy 75°, so you may see a stunning view of the city tonight. Please take care and follow your charming, ever good-looking pilot as he will guide you towards the exit.” Hawks cracked a light joke to try and pull you out of the dark headspace you were currently dwelling inside. You spared him a half-hearted giggle for his attempt, allowing him to release the hold his hands had on the backs of your knees. You plopped your feet down softly to the ground just as Mirko had made it over.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Mirko held out her hands, her gaze trained on Sero’s tape that was still wound snugly around your wrists. Wow. You’d entirely forgotten they were still there. You lifted your wrists to the admirable woman and merely watched as she took your already reddening wrists into hers.

“Honestly. What barbarians. To leave you bound like this? Complete bullshit.” Mirko muttered insult after insult under her breath as she wasted no time in destroying the binding. She took your wrists up to her mouth and carefully chomped down using her steely, rabbit-esque front teeth on the strips to make a sizable cut through them. She gently pulled your wrists apart and the tape effortlessly split. Free, at last.

Using your fingers, you tore away the remaining severed strips with a wince, and threw them to the ground. Battered and bruised, you saw that your wrists were nearing raw from how much struggling against the tape’s adhesive you’d done. You gave a quick massage to stimulate blood flow back into your numbing fingertips.

“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.

“Much. Thank you for getting me out of there. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a cooler getaway than two of the top pro heroes in Japan being my saviors.” you tossed a light joke in along with the gratitude. You yanked the two pros into your chest with a tight hug to further show your thanks, taking a deep breath against their chests. They were rigid at first, but they both allowed themselves. However, while being this close, they couldn’t help but notice the sweet smell drifting off of your clothing. There was little the pros could do to avoid the intoxicating aroma, but before they could delve further into what it was, they heard a tiny sniffle sound from your buried head.

With an alertness to you that he hadn’t felt before, Hawks pulled you away from his chest with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s up, baby bird?” Hawks were much more determined than he had been all night to get you to open up about what was going on in your brain.

Not looking up from the ground to respond, he placed his fingertips underneath your chin and tilted your bent head up. You had a thread of silvery tears lining your lower lash line and a wobbly lip that made both Mirko and Hawks’ aggravation boil their blood.

“Hon, tell us what’s wrong.” Mirko commanded. She could barely contain the loathing that spiderwebbed throughout her heart. When she gets her hands on those measly heroes who mistreated you, she is going to make them wish they’d never bothered you with their worthless existence ever again. Lousy maggots. Just as Mirko’s mind was going to float off the deep end into disturbing plans of vile and ruthless methods of punishment, she caught herself.

Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.

No, the aggressiveness was not new. She’d always had a bit of spark to her. Her wild thoughts are what made her such a great hero; that’s how Mirko became widely recognized for her prowess. It was who she was having the ruthless feelings against that surprised her. She’s worked with those pros, her coworkers and friends, for years. She barely knows you at all. Yet, she’s planning every possible way she could make the insolent, ignorant gang pay for their mistreatment.

Although, why should that fact matter? Why shouldn’t they pay? Sure, they’re her friends, but they abused an innocent. They forcefully used their quirks and position of power over you to make you suffer! It’s despicable. It’s dishonorable. They should face the punishment of the law. But…that isn’t enough. Her rationality slips, drifting further away the longer she feels you warm her. It fuels a fire within her, and that fire sets the marrow lining her bones a light. She doesn’t want to toss the aggressors off to the police like a spineless coward. You deserve better than that. You deserve more. You deserve justice. She is justice. Technically, she is the law. She will make them pay. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!

God, she hasn’t felt this warmth in a long time. Too long. You’re wonderful.

Hawks isn’t faring any better. He’s wild-eyed—his mind deep sketching out the framework of delusional fantasies of him taking you on as his trainee, showing you all the tips and tricks he’s learned in the harsh world of hero life, and quite literally taking you under his wing. Maybe you two become more after you get closer. Keigo isn’t unfamiliar with the desire of wanting companionship in his life. He often finds himself daydreaming of a partner by his side, on and off the field of battle. Never a specific person, just a faceless, nameless being, fluttering through his desires. Smiling, laughing, enjoying each other's time together. Cute stuff. Hawks yearns for that small sliver of normalcy. Keigo wants to feel human—to feel whole again after everything he’s been stripped of in his miserable existence.

With you, even though your interactions have been brief and you’ve endured some light flirting of his that is barely considerably mentionable, you’ve brought him nothing but a comforting and loving feeling. He feels indebted to you for simply being you. Not lying to him, or trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly surrounded by deceptive and cruel human nature. He truly couldn’t tell you how many thousands of googly-eyed newbies have introduced themselves to him, praying for even a small flicker of his fame to rub off on them. Hoping to use him to spring them up into the actually noticeable charts. It’s so easy to read them too. They’re open, flimsy magazines. Bright, colorful, eye-catching, and full of back-stabbing and strategically fabricated lies. Spread wide and pleading for him to flip through their pages. They always hiss lies through their teeth, grinning and bearing the once-in-a-lifetime interaction. But no matter how much sucking up they commit to or how well they try to veil the truth of their intentions behind sugared words, he never fails to see through them.

Guess the training he went through as a child was good for something. If you don’t open up to people, you can never get hurt. Sure, that tactic has worked wonders…up until meeting you.

But he’s just so tired. He just wants to lower the railing and find something worth all the fight he puts up.

You might be his outlet.

“It’s…it’s just been a long night. I’m sorry—,” you tried to cover your face with your forearm, desperate to conceal the embarrassing honest showing on your face. Mirko gently removed your shield with a comforting smile.

“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”

“Never ever apologize for your feelings—,” both pros stumbled over each other’s words. When they realized they were getting anywhere by interrupting the other, they shared a look. After a small nod shared, they wrapped their arms around you again.

“You’re okay,” they both said at the same time, cradling you against them once again. You snuggled deeper, taking that chance to breathe deep and avoid spiraling into a panic attack.

While your arms were around the two, you accidentally brushed against Hawks’ wings. That is when you noticed his wings had puffed up in size, similar to how any bird does when they want to appear bigger to a threat they face. He had been very tense at the beginning of the hug, so maybe he was only nervous, so you chose to not question it. Plus, you’d just let a room full of deadly pro heroes! Yeah, it’s alright. However, the light thudding taps of Rumi’s foot against the concrete roof was something you couldn’t explain. Is it normal for hybrid rabbits to emulate this characteristic from their bunny counterparts? You’re not too sure.

You tried to pull away, but their tight grips didn’t let you. Oh. Well, maybe they’re both in desperate need of a hug. You’re very familiar with your classmates coming to you for hugs during their rougher days. They always said you had the best hugs, and you take great pride in that fact. Come to think of it, maybe you should ask them all about their mental health more often, just so no one spirals off the deep end and punches another classmate (thank you for that, Bakugo).

OH! Your friends! Maybe Hawks and Mirko can help them! Yes, that’s a great plan.

Peeling further back, you tilted your head up to look them in their eyes. You let out an airy chuckle, “As much as I enjoy the hug, I need some more of your help.”

They instantly lightened their steely grips. Not too much to let you slip away. Mirko held a smug look, as if knowing you’d come crawling back to her for her aid. SHe’s the only one who can provide for you properly, afterall. Don’t worry, let her handle everything for her darling. No task is too big for her. Hawks resembled that of a grinning puppy, excited and warm. Eager to perform any task for praise and treats. Yes! Anything you want, darling, they can provide! What do you need?

They didn’t supply you with a verbal answer, but the looks they carried spoke loud enough, so you continued, “My classmates. I don’t know what happened to my friends, but they’ve got the same thing the teachers do. I think everyone’s infected. I have to help them, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

As soon as they heard you utter the word “friends”, their bliss was shot and struck the ground like a wounded songbird. Their brains shut off to stop the nonsense you were suggesting. Friends? You need people other than them?! And what’s worse, is you want them to help those idiots?! Last they checked, they were public enemy number one for making you run yourself ragged up and down those endless halls! No, that can’t be right. Those fools don’t deserve their help. Not for what they made you go through.

“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.

The rest of the sentence you were sputtering falters. You gaze up at the rabbit hero, “...What?”

With a second look-over, Mirko appears a lot scarier than she did only minutes beforehand. Have her eyes always been this clouded? Her unrelenting gaze exudes a darker inkling than when you’d faced her way. Rumi’s eyes stuck on you like gum bonded to the bottom of your shoe.

No. This wouldn’t happen again. They said they’d be better than this—better than them.

Hawks obnoxiously cleared his throat to brush the eerie vibe away from the floundering conversation, “Ehh…haha! What Rumi means is not right now. It’s too dangerous to go searching for your friends now. Finding help for them after the Purge settles down is the safest strategy.” Hawks smoothly saved Mirko’s ass with the perfect excuse, served up on a shining silver platter. You didn’t appreciate how obviously strained Hawks’ tone became at “friends”.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe. Preferably away from this shithole.” She mumbled the last portion, keeping the snark to her own chest, but her contempt for the institution was blatant. Mirko’s eyes were laced with flaming venom as she fleetingly paid attention to the concrete walls. A sneer broke out on her lips, as if just the idea of standing on top of the building was a sin itself.

“Ah… okay.” You tried to leave the hug again. They persisted.

“Mirko—,” Hawks’ voice twisted into a demanding tone. His blown out, puppy-like pupils cinched into vicious slits, staring down the woman.

“Hawks, I don’t want to hear it. Back off.” Mirko gnashed back at the blond. The two began an all out war against each other, both tugging against the other’s advances. A tug to the left, a drag to the right, both parties were unrelenting. Neither wanted to allow the victory of having you in their arms.

“You’re holding them too tightly!” Keigo whined.

“Well, you’re not holding them tight enough.” Mirko argued back. You’ve seen this before. It reminded you of two children fighting over who got to play with which toy, always bickering how the other was “doing it wrong”. It reminded you of Ochaco fighting the guys. It reminded you of Denki and Mina struggling over who got to hold you. Childish squabbles.

Liars, the lot of them. They didn’t want to help you. If they did before, not anymore. They’re infected, there’s no other answer for their behavior.

“Keigo, just stop it! You and I both know that you can’t protect them.” Mirko snarked. That caught the bird’s attention judging by the way his eyes dug into her, all emotion scrapped from his expression. A grim look stole the spot, one that told of violence and mayhem running rampant in behind his eyes. An expression usually reserved for the villains he so often made easy prey of. This is awful.

“And what is that supposed to mean, rabbit?” Hawks’ eyes looked wilder than before.

“I think you and I both know what I meant.” She snarked back, ruffling his feather figuratively and quite literally.

“Be honest with yourself. When was the last time you were able to save something that you actually cared about?” Mirko hatched a devilish plan. She took the chance of his loss of temper to clutch you against her. She took a couple spacious leaps back, creating a sizable distance between her friend turned enemy. Hawks plucked two giant feathers from his wingspan that sharped out into duo blades resembling two scimitars.

“I’m done being—,” just before Hawks could spiral off the deep end into whatever hell he had planned to put Mirko through, a disturbance crashed the party.

“Enough, you two.” A formidable voice shook from the shadows. Those few words are all it takes for the two beside you to back off from tearing out each other’s throats. Whoever it was had the ability to command total control of a room in an instant. You couldn’t see them, but you knew the voice came from the other side of the stairwell exit.

“Great,” Mirko scoffs, tilting her head to look the other way with a cross of her arms. You couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or the shame from being caught. Judging by her scowl, it’s probably the latter.

“Endeavor…how long have—,” Hawks sputtered out. You swivel your head to the gap at the birdman. No fucking way it’s the number one hero. He’s gotta be wrong. The number one pro hero showing up to participate in the Purge is unheard of. Guess you’d be wrong. Though, you suppose that even the number one gets a pass during today. It’s just jarring since All Might had not once in all his years of being the symbol of peace even be seen during the Purge hours. He probably just didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal with the news or social media if he were to ever be discovered converting to be a player of the Purge’s game.

Sure enough though, the one who rounds the corner is in fact Endeavor. He shut Hawks up with a simple raise of his palm and an unforgiving glare. The once cheery hawk tucks into himself and shields his frustration away from the number one.

The first thing that shows you the reality of the situation is his overwhelming stature. You severely underestimated the way this man takes up a room. Seeing him in TV interviews on the news and fighting against villains is one thing, but it is a completely different beast to be face-to-face with him stalking towards you. It made sense why he was deemed the top—with such a suffocating aura, it was hard to believe that any villain even tried to oppose the behemoth. You should know, you’ve met him before.

During your training with him alongside the boys, it had been quite the feat. You’d mostly done in-field training with the boys, but the one time you did have one-on-one training with the pro was unnerving, to say the least. Endeavor had watched your every move, his eyes never straying too far from where you’d displayed the extent of your Quirk’s usefulness. You knew you were as capable, even more so since you could control your emotions, as Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki. Let’s face it, all three of them had a tendency to act out far too irrationally due to their urges and feelings, and they weren’t shy about expressing it. Although, your self control put you in a favorable light with Endeavor, so it wasn’t strange that he gave more of his attention to you.

Instead of bickering and combating everything the pro said with a harsh glower like Katsuki had, you listened intently and gave Endeavor undivided attention. Instead of ignoring the man who actively tried to give pointers and choosing to walk faster ahead of the group like Shoto had, you hung back and asked questions about what Shoto had done wrong in his approach and how to improve his strategy. You became more agile, better aware of your surroundings, and able to predict some of the moves villains would try to throw at you. You understood that the opportunity that Shoto had given to you all with training under his father for the work-study was not something to be taken lightly. Was the man a little too much of a hardass for your taste? Yes. But he was not a pushover. He had valuable lessons to teach you all from experiences he’s faced during his years in the field. If you wanted to actually place in the hero charts one day, you knew you’d have to get past your own opinions on the man and try to cooperate.

If someone asked your opinion of Endeavor, they’d understand he’s not your favorite hero to grace the charts. You’d believed him to be startlingly cold for the fiery nature of his quirk. It was easy to say you’d originally thought him to be nothing but an ass with too hot of a head on his shoulders, and while that was still the truth more often than not, he had his moments of clarity. The media did have a knack for stringing up the moments of his ill temper caught on film and making them the headline of every social media platform. What you had learned during your trainings held at the crack of dawn was that he was extremely precise. There was never a lack of communication or any doubt held within his words whenever he instructed you. Swing a right hook into the dummy’s torso. Sweep your leg to the left to knock the opponent over. He was straight to the point and earnest in the compliments regarding your physical improvements.

He’d even let you spar against him one day. Endeavor had taken the four of you and one of his many sidekicks, Burnin, to the rooftop during one of the few freetimes you’d actually had. He asked you to step across from him and get into your fighting position. He instructed no quirks be used, that it be purely a hand-to-hand combat session that balanced skill and strength together. With Burnin as the referee, you’d begun. He thankfully didn’t go easy on you as he views not giving his all into any task as a “halfass lazy excuse”, so you’d fight with your entire being against Endeavor. He educated the four of you through commentating on all of the things you did wrong; how you’d left yourself open to a couple of jabs from him, turned your back to him often enough that he’d seized an opportunity to lunge and knock you over, and such. Though you were outmatched in a number of categories, you soon understood why he was putting you to this impossible challenge. Enji wanted you to get creative with your tactics to take down your foe. You needed to outwit his strength.

With the newfound spark of inspiration, you struck. You made a move imitating that of one you’d tried against him earlier. A simple left hook. He knew he could easily deflect the punch, so he took the bait. You’d noticed before that he was much more sturdy with his right side, which left room for error on his left, so you took the chance. You sidestepped into his peripheral and closed in behind him. You kicked in the back of his right knee, forcing him to stumble to the ground. You knew you couldn’t tackle the man over from this position, nor could you keep him pinned there due to how much force you had to use to kick his knee alone, so you went with the quickest option. You needed to hit a weak point, but since his body was covered in mostly muscle, you only had a few options. Since kicking him in the groin seemed like too cruel for a simple sparring session, the spots above his neck would have to do. You jumped up onto his back, shimmied up enough to hang onto his shoulder, and threw a hard punch right into his throat.

You left him choking on his air and wheezing. He grasped at his neck, steadying himself on his other arm. Leaving him no hands to defend against your assault. You then shoved your hands into his hair, pulled on the strands tightly, and swung your body forward over the man’s shoulder. You let gravity handle the rest. Your body weight pulled his unstable torso forward and he hit the ground with a hefty SMACK! You bent your knees to land sturdily on the ground with minimal impact to your footing and let his face take the brunt of the fall. You then placed your knee hard on the middle of his shoulder blades to pin him and Burnin deemed the match completed with an impressed grin lilting on her face. Admittedly, for the rest of that day, you gloated the pride you felt at taking down the mountain of a man a little too obviously.

You knew that day he most likely wanted to make an example out of you when he presumed you wouldn’t win the fight, but you’d made sure he understood not to fuck around with you or your generosity again.

Zooming back to the present, you caught his eyes goring a hole right through you. Brilliant aqua blue irises stuck out like a sore thumb against his smoldering flames. No matter how much Shoto tried to deny the fact, he truly was Endeavor’s child. That striking blue color kept locked down within the Endeavor lineage and fiery red hair that draped over half of his head was unmistakable. Features that, however much wasted on the shitty attitude the man possessed, would make many and most fall head-over-heels for their stunning effect. Though, in your opinion, Shoto wore the beauty better.

Enji’s gaze was harsh towards you, but it was kind compared to the one he shot at Mirko’s arm wrapped around you. Perceptive, the woman held you closer, as if trying to defy his silent demand of releasing you. She was dead set on not going down without a fight. Before she could hope for one to begin, Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder as a soft hint to not involve you in Endeavor’s unrivaled wrath. Mirko knew he was right. Dammit it all. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she relented, back off of you. She left you to fend for yourself against the beast, cast you aside to the big bad wolf who wouldn’t spare you. It reminded you of the tale of Odysseus facing off with Polyphemus—only you were unarmed and lacking a foolproof plan of escape and this giant won’t allow arrogance to be his downfall yet again like the monster from the epic had.

Finally, Endeavor was right in front of you. If you had any bravery left from the night, it vanished wholly with him staring you down. Endeavor hardly even spared a tilt of his head to gaze down upon you, opting to stare through a half-lidded examination. The only indication that he was human and not some freaky Terminator cyborg from the future coming to hunt you down was the ever-present scowl he’s so fond of sharing.

Without ever taking his sight off of you, he glowered dryly to an unidentified listener, “Why are they scratched up?” You see now the question is not for you, rather it's dedicated to the duo in charge of you. You peered down to see what he was referring to, only now understanding what he meant from the bruises beginning to bloom along your wrists and the miniscule scratches littering your forearms and neckline. None of them were deep enough to lance more than a couple drops of blood, but they were still oozing fresh from the night’s escapades.

“That wasn’t from us! The students were dragging them back-and-forth between the halls before the teachers got a hold of them. You know how rough kids are with their toys.” Hawks quickly presented to the man. Smooth as ever. He strolled over to Endeavor to lean his elbow against the man’s bulky side, as if casually resting against an alleyway’s grimy brick wall. Although, with how stocky the pro was, you’re sure the feeling was probably akin. You watched Endeavor roll his eyes at the blond.

“I’m sure hurling them through a window had nothing to do with the scratches.” Endeavor’s sarcasm hung heavy in the air like too much icing on a dry piece of cake. It was obvious that his comedic side hadn’t been brushed up on in awhile. He took the chance to use an unexpected gentleness to grasp your forearm and hold up the damaged skin to the duo as all the evidence he needed. You, not taking too kindly to being an item for presentation, pulled your arm away from him and held it close. Endeavor shot you a look of disappointment, but held in the trembling Armageddon he had planned. Hawks gave a weak chuckle, no doubt scrounging for a way to veer the conversation off them scaling the side of a building with you.

Endeavor decided to spare you for now, choosing to cross his arms and acknowledge only Hawks, “What’s their status? Who in the school is infected? How many are after them?”

You were starting to get sick of him completely ignoring the fact that you had your own voice to speak for your own wellbeing. “You know I can speak for myself, right? Or have you forgotten that since we last hung out.” Hawks shot you a look that yelled “shut up” like a parent two seconds away from scolding their child who is screaming in public. You didn’t cower. You pressed on to challenge Endeavor’s authority.

“I’m aware. But I understand if I speak to you, you’ll probably end up whining like a child to me. Wasting my time.” Endeavor threw no more than a half-hearted stern crinkle of his brows, and you pretty much could no longer hold back the bubbling anger swelling up in your chest.

“Excuse me! It’s not ‘whining’, it’s called ‘being a sane person with reasonable concerns’. Also, no shit I would complain! Your little underlings were literally just fighting over who was going to kidnap me! That is a perfect reason to yell.” You waltzed your way in front of him to be a human barrier to get in the way of his sight being fixated on Hawks. You will make yourself heard against this bully. Screw it if he trained you, you don’t just ignore someone you’re actively talking about when they are right in front of you! It’s incredibly rude.

“I don’t have time for this,” Endeavor rubbed temples with one hand. You wanted to rip his head off and shout from the rooftops into his eardrums. Maybe that would get your point through his thick skull.

“Wow. First of all, fuck you,” That certainly caught his attention. His head snapped to look down at your defiance. His eyes bore that same look he’d struck Mirko’s arm with before. Boiling hysteria and bitterness. Even though you physically felt the warmth of his internal temperature rise, and you recognized the panic Hawks held in his gob-smacked expression, you couldn’t stop your big mouth from prattling on. Shoto probably would have laughed his ass off at your opposition to his father. That small support in the back of your mind made your confidence soar.

“Second of all, you can’t seriously think that I am going to be chill with anything you wei—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence before you were all of the sudden no longer touching the roof. The collar of your shirt had been snatched by Endeavor’s strong hand with no warning and hoisted high. You were now dangling limply a few feet off the ground. Keigo was squawking figuratively and literally, yanking on Endeavor’s arm to lower the leverage he held your body at. Rumi took a turn for the worst. Threats cranked out of her mouth as she reared up to kick him as hard as she could square in an area where the sun didn't shine. Maybe give him a taste of his own brutality. With an unyielding and unforgiving hold, he lifted you even higher with no strenuous effort. You yelped, swinging and writhing around to try escaping the brute strength of your foe. He brought you in close to look at you eye-to-eye, making sure your darting gaze has nowhere to turn to other than locking in to meet his own icy pair.

“You will not speak to me like that again. Your attitude might be cute to the rest of these weak links, but I won’t let it go without correction. You show me respect, or we will both have to go through a punishment for you that neither of us will enjoy. This is your first and final warning.” Every word was uttered with nothing but truth. No twist of a joke in his tone, no shift in expression, nothing. Only a foreboding aura and the gravely tone that demanded full cooperation.

Every snappy response died on your tongue. You wanted to fight back, to sass all of them more, to tell him exactly what you thought of him to his stupid, scary face—but nothing came. You felt tears line your waterline, and you couldn’t despise them more. Crying when faced with any kind of opposition…what kind of hero does that make you? You couldn’t explain why your mind drifted to Midoriya in this moment when all hope was lost.

You suppose it’s because you recall a day when the boy had tried to deny his waterworks and his friends carried his tears with grace and love. Deku had been sent off to his work-study with the man he’d called ‘Sir Nighteye’. You didn’t know much about the man, in all honesty, but you did know that one of the strongest students at UA had been training underneath him for some time. The sweet boy named Mirio who had come to meet your class and then single handedly swept you all in a twenty-to-one match. He was quite impressive, so the fact that Midoriya had been taken on to work alongside him was quite the honor!

However, Midoriya came back rather…startled, to say the least. He hardly participated in conversations held around him, didn’t speak up during the lectures, and could barely choke down the food placed in front of him either. His eyes were clouded, a scrunched up twist pulled on his eyebrows like he was stuck in a maze of his own thoughts. He looked far into the distance yet couldn’t process what was in front of him. It was scary. Where did the boy always eager to learn and help everyone drift off to? You wanted him back.

The situation came to a head one day at lunch when you were sitting across from the green-haired boy, Iida, and Shoto. You’d all tucked into your meals when you noticed Midoriya had no intention of even attempting to stomach the spread. Shoto had shockingly tried to crack a very dry joke, and that seemed to wake the distant boy. After brushing off all of your concerns for the nth time, Iida finally challenged Deku’s false reassurance. He’d offered an ear to listen to the boy’s troubles. A simple gesture, most would assume, but it hit the boy hard. Midoriya had tried to keep it in, but the boy just couldn’t hold back his emotions—a fact of which you admired to this day. He tried to claim that heroes don’t cry while he actively swiped away the drips trailing from his evergreen eyes, but you watched as Iida and Shoto shut down that statement quickly. It’s such an easy thing to say but a hard skill to execute. Of course heroes cry! Anyone who doesn’t when facing the nightmarish terrors that they do on a daily basis is lying or too stone cold to be considered human.

You watched as the boys bonded over the spilt emotions and a grin overtook your face the entire rest of the day. No one at that table knew what Deku was going through with poor Eri and the vile Overhaul situation. You hadn’t a clue the true reason Iida had extended his hand to the shaken boy that day. But it didn’t matter. Izuku let his tears and strength glow bright that day. Tears are a symbol of actually giving a shit in this world. Tears you shed are the wordless tale you share with the world. Speaking a thousand words in all different orders. A labyrinth that can be solved or failed, depending on how your own soul understands the riddle. You’re still scouring that maze to comprehend your own salty snivels.

“Understood?” The three heroes stilled, waiting for your response. Wordlessly, you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling, looking away from the man to not give the satisfaction of his actions actually scaring you, and nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt of contempt and lowered you back down to the cement. Hawks flitted over to your side, checking you over. Mirko didn’t exactly come running to you but she did make a point of standing in between Endeavor and you.

“You’ll see why we must do this soon, (Y/N). This life is just too risky for someone like you,” he looked like he wanted to say more to you, but held his tongue. You wished he’d just crawl back to whatever shithole he climbed out of and fester there for the atrocious attempt at playing the “comforting” father role.

He meant it, you know. Enji sees you choose to not look beyond his past. Much like his sons. Not that he can blame any of you. But, for some reason, the abandonment of trust hurt more from you than it did Shoto.

Enji could tell you how many sidekicks he’s experienced come and go throughout his career. Does he remember the plebeians' names? No. Why should he? They left, so that must mean they didn’t meet his standards. No big deal, another will take their place eventually. It’s not his job to care about them or to remember them. However, he does remember you quite well. Truthfully, much to your surprise, before even your work-study together.

The first time he’d even sparred you a passing glance was during the Sports Festival in your first year. Truthfully, he didn’t give a single damn about any students in the arena other than his son. Enji really only went to see if Shoto would finally stop this little rebellion of his by only using that wretched ice his doe-eyed wife blessed their son with. He wanted to see Shoto crack under the pressure and give in—finally admit that the fire portion of his power was the stronger, more reliable half. He managed in his obsession to give some half-assed attention to the other one-on-one duels.

One of the fights he watched over was you against the ditzy girl from the Support Department, Mei something. Initially, he was going to walk away at such an uninteresting sounding fight, but he chose to linger. He saw you willingly agree to Mei flaunting her inventions to prospective buyers by using you as the demonstration device. You’d effortlessly almost danced around her gadgets’ tactics; playing the part of challenging foe, but never let her pin you in a dicey position. You’d ended the fight by running her off the boundary line before time ran out, and both of you shared a hug as you parted ways—both satisfied with you being the victor moving forward in the chain of fights and her having interested eyes witnessing her skill. Normally, a blatant show of mutual benefit would have him running for the hills. That wasn’t a fight, neither of you put any effort into crushing your opponent to a pulp, which is what a real show of power was to his image of winning. Yet, he stayed. Not to watch anything that pink girl offered, only examining you bounce around with both your own strength and the might of your quirk. He wanted you to slip up. He wanted you to make a mistake so he could justify ditching the patetic battle, but you never did. You stayed light on your feet and still struck at your opponent a few times to show examples of the defense her “babies” could provide to heroes.

Intriguing, is all he thought. He then stood and sauntered off until the second round.

The second round he watched Shoto, not as easily as he had hoped, defeat Midoriya. While he was filled with both gratification at Shoto caving into his carnal fire and enragement at that Izuku pest for giving his son the unwavering support to defy his hold over his son, he hardly realized your next battle had begun. It was against the vine girl from the Class B—first losers, rather, to him—Ibara. Unlike Mei’s challenge, you basically wiped the floor with the poor girl. You shot around the court, darting like a bat through an inky full-mooned sky, making sure to not give Ibara a chance to get the one up on you. You hardly let her breathe during the showdown, striking at her again and again from all angles. She was safe nowhere, even when hidden behind the viney defensive walls sprouting from her hair. You’d ended it neat and clean with a swift shot of your quirk, landing her out of the arena. Triumphant, you’d moved up again, but you still remained humble while helping Ibara off of the ground with a bright smile and gifted her a sincere handshake. You’d no doubt made a spectacle of yourself to the crowd and everyone watching at home, the loud cheer of encouragement erupting across the venue said just as much. Enji even hashed out a couple of light claps for your impressive display.

Your last battle was the nail in the coffin for Endeavor. You were finally fighting against his son. Of course, he was obviously rooting for Shoto to crush you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a nail-biting fight. He got just that. You two dove for each other—ice flung around the court in jagged peaks with you racing around the boy and firing off precisely aimed jabs of your own quirk. Blustering rushes of glacial wind flushed across the landscape. You two waltzed around in a deadly dance of effort and skill. You’d make sure Shoto knew that you weren’t to be cast aside like overlooked trash. You had grit, a will to make a name for yourself in the competitive world of heroes. You managed to last around two minutes in the ring together, which is phenomenal, considering his other battles didn’t last more than a handful of seconds. In the end, Shoto had been the victor when he caught you off guard by using his ice on the floor. He swiftly created a haphazard ice rink and slid you out of bounds. You were too exhausted from abusing your quirk so much that afternoon against your other opponents that you couldn’t stop your body from spinning out. Enji didn’t miss the way Shoto practically dashed over to your side, helped you stand up, and offered his arm for you to hold as you shakily shuffled off the slick floor to a safer spot.

Though you lost, he hadn’t forgotten how you gave his son a run for his money. You were very capable. Which is why he didn’t hesitate allowing you to become a work-study of his under the guise of helping you and your other friends out. This plan he has is not only for the benefit of his own gains, but for Shoto’s as well. He knows his son cares for you, but he has to help you see that after all of the Purge nonsense. You two would be perfect together—the perfect marriage of quirks. Of course, he tells himself that he’s not in this for the sole reason of having another powerful quirk added to his ranks. But it certainly helps him like you more.

You kept your eyes lowered, the lingering sting of defeat simmering behind your eyes and in your heart. You wanted to have an unwavering confidence like some of your classmates. You would never say this to Bakugou, but you truly did admire his “never back down” style. You had seen countless times how he barked in the faces of higher-ups, challenging their morals, their reasons for becoming heroes, and plans. It was as if he never agreed with anything they presented. The blond always had to shove his opinion into every decision made. You wanted to stare Endeavor straight in the eye as you stomped on his foot and make him see what you really thought of all their bullshit. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have it in you to ignore his authority. Guess that’s why you’re still stuck up here on this stupid roof with people you don’t want to be around, huh?

Hawks brushed back your hair, trying to examine your face for distress or injury, but all he could see was you not meeting his gaze. He wants to tell you he knows firsthand how hard this decision is—hell, even he has doubts relying on Endeavor and Mirko. He wants to say he’d be able to make this escape on his own with you. Hide you away alone so no one else has any clue where you are. That sounds like paradise to him. Alas, with so many high profiles after you now, there isn’t a chance of him making it out with his head. If he broke the agreement he resentfully made with the two, then others would certainly turn against him.

Later. He’ll strike later. Don’t you see? That’s why he’s playing the perfect little stepping stool. No one deserves you but him—not even his idol. His hero. He’ll make sure you know that too by the end of this night. Only a little longer of bearing the pretending and game of dress up, then he’ll slip away with you in tow.

“Hawks.” You heard Endeavor call out for the winged man. Daddy’s calling.

Hawks tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his amber glow, and offered a caring smile. He hoped you could see the promise behind his eyes. The disgust masked behind a beaming smile was perfected for meeting delusional strangers and other worthless heroes. He gave Endeavor that smile, but not to you. You hoped the scowl you shot ripped his lungs out and left them rotting in a pile of maggot-riddled filth. How dare he give you such a carefree look after telling you he was going to steal away your entire life.

After Hawks walked over to converse with Endeavor, Mirko closed in. Not much was said between you two, but she did bump her hip against yours to knock you out of your own head. You turned to give her an offensive side eye, but she only fronted an unbothered look. You went to ignore her again, turning to face towards the men. However, you didn’t get far as she decided to make her personal mission to annoy you. You felt a gentle poke into your side, ticklish and fleeting. You jumped, falling for the trap and glaring at her again. This time, she had a mild grin on her face. It was obvious your displeasure fueled her joy.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to look mad,” she snorted, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t stop looking at you, and you saw her stare through your peripheral.

You scoffed, “Trying?” You faced forward to deny her yearning for your gaze.

“Of course. I’ve seen mad before, and you’re not at that level. You’re just…peeved. Disgruntled. Ew, no, that word is too ugly to describe you.” Mirko shook her head and stuck her tongue out at the mention of the synonym. You took a deep breath and settled in to focus on the men discussing back and forth.

She circled you like a shark lunging on for her prey, but you simply turned your head the opposite direction of where she was to avoid the confrontation.

“Where you going, grumpy~?” Mirko easily caught on to your aversion. You noticed how her grin truly did resemble something shark-like. The thought crossed your mind if she was really half-bunny, or actually some predator in disguise masking the innocence of a rabbit. A wolf in sheep’s clothing

“I’m actually very interested in that bird over there. Would you look at that, it’s pretty far away.” You apathetically mused at the distant dot in the sky. You brushed her prodding away to daze off into the horizon, Mirko’s words slowly being tossed into the heaping bin of memories you wouldn’t document in your brain. Gazing across the landscape of the dark treeline surrounding UA and the few standing buildings nearby, your eyes scanning the moonlit metal of the nearby rooftops. But something else glistening on the roof caught your eye too. Something moving.

You watched it shift and reflect the moon’s rays from across the neighboring rooftop. You squinted, trying to catch exactly what was skulking around in the dark, but it strayed just beyond your sight. Whatever it was, it wanted to stay hidden.

“Absolutely not.” Endeavor’s thunderous voice startled you from your scouting. Hawks turned his head to see if you had noticed the man’s tantrum—no shit you’d notice that barbaric yell from the brute—and, in seeing your alarm, sighed. He scooted closer to the mammoth of a man, turning his back to you. You strained your ears to hear the mumbling.

“You don’t have to tell me it’s not ideal—I know that—but what other choice do you think we have?” Was all you could hear before Hawks’ voice became too faint to make out comprehensible words.

You then remembered your little “friend” in the shadows. You shot your head back to its previous position to confront the adversary. Nothing. You searched and searched the silent building, but nothing. You wanted to tell yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks in the dark, but on tonight of all nights, you knew better than to downplay your concern.

Finally acknowledging Mirko, you questioned her, “Do you see anything on that roof over there?”

She gave you an unimpressed deadpan, “Seriously? You're trying the ‘oh my gosh, what’s that over there!’ trick?”

“Wha—no!” You looked offended, but you felt a cold sweat on the side of your forehead. Inside, you knew you’d probably have tried that trick sooner rather than later, and you've got to hand it to her. She knows you well.

Before you could try to explain your reasoning, a raging flame shot to strike Hawks and Endeavor.

Miraculously, Hawks’ reflexes were quick enough to shove Endeavor and himself out of the way of the surprise attack before someone was set ablaze. The smell of burning hair permeated the area although, and you looked over to catch a glimpse of a portion of Hawks’ right wing being singed into charred black wisps. Mirko reacted nearly faster than Hawks did, grabbing your waist and maneuvering you back from the fire. It was you and Mirko parted from Hawks and Endeavor far on the opposite side of the roof.

“What the hell?” Mirko grit her teeth at the attack. Psychos getting in the way of her time with you, what a joke. Such a waste of time. She just wants to run off and find somewhere to keep you for the rest of the Purge, yet these shitty obstacles just can’t seem to get enough of you. She was going to rip them limb from limb for taking her attention off of you.

You stood with no complaint in her arms, not minding her taking the lead of your protection. You still couldn’t see who caused the disruption, but you would soon wonder no longer.

“You’re slow today, Endeavor. What? Off your game or something?” A seedy voice echoed across the way. Male, deep, commanding. You watched as the foe came to stand at the edge of the railing. Your eyes dilated at the sight. Your breath caught in your throat. You’d only cared to remember this man as the one who, with the rest of his party, ruined your training camp over the summer and kidnapped your classmate, Bakugou.

You’re shot into the past as you recount that horrible night. It had been such a great start to the day. You’d been working hard with all of your friends, aiming to better improve the longevity and resilience of all your quirks. You’d nearly tuckered yourselves out when the hero Pixie-Bob said you all had one more challenge to face before bed. The Test of Courage. It began as traditionally as any silly game teenagers played in the dark did. Then it all came crashing down at the faint, then quickly overwhelming, scent of smoke. You remember being there in that midnight-black forest, you remembered how excited you’d been at the started of that stupid game you’d agreed to play, you remember the fire that infested the trees and burnt the pretty flowers and bushes to wisps of charcoal ash, you remembered the terror and fear of being lost in said woods before Deku found you wandering alone. You remember locking eyes with the man who stoked the fires. A spearing turquoise. You’d seen a blue so vibrant like that only once before. You’d found that hypnotic color in Shoto’s left eye. Though, Shoto was a much kinder soul than the monster these captivating eyes were attached to.

In the present, you’re wrung back into that same terror as you watched his black leather trench coat gently sway in the breeze, a glinting bicep catching your eye. The metal cuffs shone from the full light of the moon along with the many staples running up and down the sleeves. He was too far away to discern an exact facial expression, but you could blatantly see the large patch of marred, burned flesh dominating the lower half of his face. The leathery substance was roughly connected to what remained of his skin untouched by flame, stitched up with bloody staples. The way it was sutured made his face forever appear as if strung upwards to mimic a sickening Cheshire grin. You wanted to say he was only generally looking around the roof, but you knew better. The villain was practically drilling daggers into you with how much he was staring. No, you couldn’t just say he was any old random villain; you knew his name. Dabi.

More bodies moved out from behind him to occupy the opposing roof. All you heard from them was laughter and unflattering comments nagged at the pro heroes.

“Wow, they’re even cuter this close~! Much better than in the crappy photos you guys took, Shiggy~,” A much higher pitched voice exhaled in an almost loving sigh. Their blonde hair was cinched up in two tangled space buns, but the mess was an intentional look. The loose strands were slicked into spikes. Cutesy and feminine, a happy aura surrounded her, but you knew better. She draped herself over the railing as if in her own ditzy world. You would have believed it was a fainting couch with how dramatically she had laid over the scenery. Much like Dabi, the girl couldn’t take her gaze off of you, but she made her presence known.

“Hiiii, (N/N)~~! Are the big, scary pro heroes getting in the way again? Don’t worry, cutie! I’ll take care of ‘em, hehe~!” Himiko Toga, you believe that’s what Aizawa said her name was, called out to you like she was the Romeo to your Juilet. You’re sure she believed that too. You’d heard Ochaco talk about her to you guys after the training camp. She told you about how the girl tackled Tsuyu and used these specialized needles to draw out blood from her victims. Uraraka experienced the threat head on as the girl had jammed one of her needles straight into her thigh with little apprehension.

Uraraka told you how obsessed the girl was with blood, a crazed look in her eye when the red substance came about. She said she loved her, loved her so much that she wanted to turn into her! Deku even chimed in and said the girl shouted to him delusional fantasies of wanting him to be her boyfriend. At the time, all you could do was shiver and brush off the fear the conversation brought by claiming she was “just another crazed lunatic”. Well, now that the girl is staring you down with her own redden irises, you felt your tongue shrivel up in your throat.

“Bloodied and carved up is the only way any of these nobody pro heroes could ever look cute. Though, the one daring to hold onto my darling definitely won’t be leaving here alive.” She sneered, completely flipping her personality into one of seething hate and disgust when she gazed upon Mirko. Toga’s rage could be felt from a mile away, and you felt Mirko hold onto you tighter.

“Toga, knock it off,” the green lizard man with the draping red scarf hollered at her, “we’ve got a job to do.” Though it was hard to see, you noticed the way his eyes would drift to you and quickly look away. Like he was nervous. Shy? The large clump of weapons taped and glued together as his arsenal seemed deadly but ineffective all in one. However, he moved rather quickly on his feet despite the added weight.

“Wow, such a beauty! Ugh, what an attention-seeker!” The same voice shouted two opposing sentences from across the way. You looked over and saw a man wearing a black and gray spandex suit, clutching the railing while waving his arm around. After yelling, it looked like one of his arms had a mind of its own as it grabbed his neck. It appeared to be he was trying to strangle himself with one hand, while the other hand sprung into action to stop the strangling. It was an odd battle of each arm trying to wrestle each other, as his head kept whipping back and forth shouting insults at…himself? You’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but you hope he won’t start to try injuring himself with weapons next.

“Hmm, I agree with your first sentence, Twice. Do try to not scare our guest away so soon.” A regal tone stood out through the other members’ silliness. You wonder how much backup did these guys bring as a tall figure in a creamsicle colored jacket walked to the edge of the railing. His height was enhanced with a dark brown top hat he donned and the fancy cane held at his side. The most notable feature of his was the mask he hid behind. Marble man. You couldn’t remember his name, but you certainly remembered the way he trapped Tokoyami and Bakugou when he tried to run away with them in his grasp. You felt bubbling heat rise in your chest. Betrayal and resentment all wrapped into one swirl of hurt leaving a suffocating dead weight on your chest.

“Dabi, keep your shit under control or go back to the base. Get your asses moving. We’re here to take and leave, so don’t fuck this up for me.” An unseen voice was heard from further back on the roof. However, whoever it was got the lot of them hurrying off. Groaned complaints and witty remarks were heard, mostly from the black-haired male, but they soon fizzled out. You kept looking for where they were going, but soon you couldn’t see anyone anymore. It was silent yet again.

“Sorry, darling, but we don’t have time to stay and find out what happens next.” That is all Mirko said to you before she bent down to pull you up into her arms. Though, she didn’t move that far.

“MIRKO, BEHIND!” You heard Endeavor yell out to the woman in concern. You heard it before you saw it. A goopy, unnatural, burbling sound came from behind your form. You didn’t have a chance to turn around before a platform leather boot kicked Mirko’s crouched body away with little effort. She skidded across the cement, nearly all the way back to where Hawks and Endeavor were standing. You wanted to call out for her, ask if she was okay. As much as you’d felt unapologetic rage for how they’d decided to take your life away from you, you still cared about them. You probably gave them too much of your heart, but they’re still your mentors. The people you've looked up to for years in your training to become a hero. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, as much as you’d begged for it in your mind tonight. Not with the threat of the League of Villains being what you’d have to face on your own.

You heard a sinister giggle from over your shoulder, and felt a calloused hand grasp your shoulder. Without warning, the memories you’d vaulted away with lock and key of the horrible training camp incident came flooding back with greater force than before.

That night, Izuku had found you. Tears dripped down your face as you hacked up a lung from the smoke in the air. If he’d found you any later, you’d probably have been passed out from the lack of oxygen. You ran alongside him, trying to find your way back to the rest of the class, toward any sign of a familiar face. After fleeing, you’d soon found the little boy who originally came with the Wild Wild Pussycats, Kota, with a villain in tow. Deku fought against the mammoth of a man who went by Muscular while you protected Kota from the falling rubble and terrain. After nearly getting thrown a million miles away, Izuku finally got the upperhand on the man, and knocked out the behemoth villain. You fled into the forest again, and after dropping Kota off with Mr. Aizawa and fending off Spinner to save Mandalay, you soon find Shoji and Tokoyami. However, Tokoyami could have been in better shape, as he was now overtaken by Dark Shadow’s power. Shoji explained that he and Tokoyami were attacked by a villain named Moonfish, which resulted in Tokoyami trying to use Dark Shadow to protect them, but Dark Shadow’s desire to take the reins was too great. Dark Shadow was destroying the forest in their rage, but Izuku was quick on his feet to think of using Dark Shadow to your advantage to help protect Bakugou from the villains as well.

You three lead Dark Shadow through the woods, and end up running into Bakugou and Todoroki who are facing off against the villain who tried to attack Shoji and Tokoyami before. Dark Shadow descended and made easy work of clobbering Moonfish, and the boys used their fiery quirks to release Tokoyami from Dark Shadow’s control. All of you hurried off in the direction of the facility, running into Tsuyu and Ochaco who’d been fighting off Himiko before she fled, and your large group prepared to get back safely as “Bakugou Protection Squad”. You didn’t get far as you finally noticed that Bakugou and Tokoyami were missing. The marble guy revealed himself and the League’s plan to take the boys hostage. He flew off, but the girls helped you, Shoto, Shoji, and Izuku fly to catch up to the villain.

You tackled Compress out of the sky, and fended off Twice alongside Shoto when the League fought against you. As you tried to run off as Shoji had yelled for you and Shoto to do, the warp user, Kurogiri, had stopped your escape. When Compress had shown the marbles of your friends being trapped, you saw red. You couldn’t let them be taken, you just couldn’t. It was the miracle that Aoyama’s precise shot of his Naval Laser to Compress’ face that gave you the chance you needed to save the boys.

Shoji had successfully nabbed Tokoyami’s marble, and now it was up to Shoto and you grab Bakugou’s. You were so close, just inches away, before he was ripped from you again. It was the scarred hands of the fire user that flooded your vision. You fell to the ground, empty-handed and desperately looking up at the man searching for any weakness in his grasp to steal the tiny blue-tinted glass ball from him. But it was too late.

It was an extra bit of torture—one that Dabi made sure you guys knew was on purpose—to release Bakugou from the marble so he could watch your failure. You saw the fear swimming in his red irises as he looked at you, the stiffness in his stance, the slight shake of his hands. He looked so…helpless. You’d never seen the boy in such a state of despair before. It was haunting. You stood on shaky fawn-like legs, ready to tear that villain apart with your bare hands, no Quirk needed. You wanted to make him pay for the suffering he put not only your class, but what he put everyone at the camp through tonight. But you were stopped with a gentle embrace.

Shoto had looped his arms around your midsection in a cage. You twisted back to yell at him to let you go, to let you save your friend, but his gaze gave his answer to your plea. He knew you couldn’t win. One eye filled with a harsh, cold steel of an unforgiving bind and the other swimming with a depth that rivaled even the ocean’s own fullness, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You thrashed and screamed against Shoto, not believing you wouldn’t come out victorious in this suicide mission. You unconsciously looked at Bakugou for aid, and it was a cruel reminder that he could save you no more. Both of you being held against your will, both of you screaming for help—one screaming bloody murder, one silent as a moonless night. The savior trying to go where the victim was being taken, but the victim commanding them to stay behind.

You’ll never forget the emptiness after Bakugou was fully snatched through the portal. You’ll never forget collapsing to the dirt beside Deku, Shoto’s arm still chained tightly around your middle, and wailing your heart out.

You’ll never forgive the satisfied gleam in that evil man’s eye. Never.

Except it wasn’t Dabi’s hand this time. You looked at the pale flesh, graying and roughed from years of neglect and self hate. The fingernails were chipped and appeared to be chewed with anxiety-ridden coping. Beneath the nails looked like they’d been clawing at a cement wall, dried blood caked underneath the unmanicured bits. The twitching pinky finger dangling frivolously above the target of your shoulder made your blood run cold.

“Miss me?” Tomura Shigaraki mumbled into your ear with a snarl. You’re sure you were shaking, but you couldn’t feel anything other than the stuttery breaths you took in and out. You could only focus on the lone finger judging the worth of your entire life. One movement too erratic and you’re nothing more than a pile of ash sitting in his rotten hands. You saw Endeavor’s mouth moving, he was definitely addressing the villain, but neither of you were paying attention to the fuming man.

“Staying to chat would be fun, but I think I’ll let them do the talking for me. I would rather spend my breath talking to (Y/N) than you losers.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. He guided you to step aside, and you reluctantly shifted. A sloshing sounded as Kurogiri’s portal grew to be much larger. Once the portal stretched high enough, a figure swished through. They shouldn’t be here. How can they get onto UA’s premises? Doesn’t this place have some kind of security measure to protect the kids, damnit?!

As if he could read your mind, he chuckled to himself, “So nice that UA’s defenses are down for the Purge. So much easier to ransack this place when I can toss a couple of these guys onto the front lawn. Makes this boss fight a clean sweep.” Out from the portal stepped a massive monster you’d come to know as one of Shigaraki’s playthings, a Nomu.

You’d seen a couple before, namely at the USJ when All Might defeated the beast nearly single-handedly and during the time you saved Bakugou from the League and All for One, but you had never been so close that you could reach out and touch it. As it lumbered past you, you could almost taste the horrifying aura it carried. The violence just itching to break out of its skin. Its body was barely keeping the violence it desires at bay. It was easy to tell how badly the creature wanted to claw the heroes to shreds, the short gasp-like breaths it took, and the stomach-turning visual of its exposed brain and nerve endings. Its unblinking eyes held no emotion. No malice, no joy. Nothing. You’d think it was an impressively realistic Halloween animatronic if it hadn’t just shambled past you.

Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any better, a second one appeared from beyond the portal. A carbon-copy of the first, just as horrifying, just as deadly. Then a third. Three of those monstrosities stood in front of you like an impenetrable wall. The barrier of such an evil force left you feeling light headed. This can’t be happening.

“Have fun, heroes! Don’t come looking for them, unless you’re looking to free up some space on the Hero Billboard Chart. Would be a shame if some of Japan’s finest didn’t make it through the Purge, huh?” Shigaraki called out to them with a scratchy cackle. You watched the three pros prep their Quirks and bodies for the fight to come, you then heard banging from the doors of the rooftop. The doors must have been locked as you heard a hell of a ruckus behind it. Though it was a multitude of voices, deep and high pitched, and lots of them. You wondered who it could be. Your teachers? Had they chased after the pros and were intent on winning you back? Or could it be…

Oh no.

Wait. They shouldn't come up here. Please. Not with these things here, not now. The Nomus had no remorse, no moral compass. They’d kill your classmates right where they stood.

“No…wait, my friends are still here. Please—,” this was the only sliver of argument that you posed against Shigaraki, with a shaking lip and a strip of silver tears lining your lower lash line. He revealed in your fear to oppose him.

“Really? Hmm. Perfect.” Shigaraki smiled a repulsive grin at you, his wrinkled red and slightly pink eyes filled with more bloodlust than you’ve known before. He began pulling you back by the shoulder, but you chose to fight. Yanking yourself forward before a different set of hands gripped your arms, your other shoulder, and your waist. You wrung your body left and right, and you felt closer to Bakugou than you ever have before. Trapped and alone, with no foreseeable aid.

Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.

Slimy drool dripped from the blood-thirst Nomus’ mouths onto the cement floor. Frothed mouths itching to latch onto body parts and tear them off.

Hawks, Mirko, and Endeavor had looks of pure panic as they could only watch you getting dragged away. Not because of the threat of the Nomus, but because they were losing you yet again.

Your screams for mercy were only acknowledged by a calloused grasp, minus the pinky, clamping over your mouth.

And just like that, you were gone.

~ To Be Continued… ~

Far away from the light of the outside world, a dark figure resided in the shadows. A large television took up nearly the entire landscape of their wall, illuminating their body with its harsh glow. A smirk lined their lips, entertained with the events unfolding on that fateful rooftop. Multiple cameras showed all angles of the fight, of their disobedience, of their foolishness.

Not you! Heavens no, not you! Never you. You were perfect, always. Always the perfect little damsel in distress. Always the most entertaining morsel. Delicate and bold at the same time. A real palette cleanser from all the other despicable acts they’ve seen before. They’ve had a lifetime and then some to experience the tiresome, dreadfully boring reality they’ve come to unwilling terms with. However, you certainly add a wonderful zing of sweetness and spice to the otherwise flavorless mush they’ve known life to taste like. They want more.

They watched the despair fill your mind, how distraught you became over the mess they’d created. They saw your beautiful eyes, so teary and wide. So much innocence and hope for this crumbling world held inside them.

They stood, brushing off the dust from their clothes, and walked towards the door that caged them inside. Oh, how wonderful it will be to meet you again. Properly, this time.

<3 — Tag List — <3

@humanoid606 • @repostingmyfavs • @bubblymusiclover13 • @sannpei • @caniseethefourthsword • @notleecassisy • @purplemochicat • @screaminginvoids • @livyyz • @lotionlamp • @slaymbo • @ladybug2235 • @serxinns • @lady-ashfade • @todobakudeku2021 • @sky-angel101 • @justastrobruh • @spoiledgordita • @wolfy1984 • @genderfluid-bastard • @puthypirate42069 • @bubblymusiclover13 • @shiftinglover • @skinseeker77 • @des-deswain5621 • @fr3dsw0rld123 • @mary-jinx • @justafishh • @the-rouge-robin • @cassycas0