#yandere boku no hero academia

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT 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.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Lover's Quarrel

Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

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

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.

–

“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”

You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball. 

Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body. 

A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out. 

It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.

But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.

Ding. 

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen. 

“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.

“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?” 

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable. 

“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.

Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days. 

“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.” 

You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems. 

“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.

"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be. 

Work drags far too slowly. 

Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.

Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.

A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that. 

Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered. 

You’ll think about Bakugo later. 

“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.

When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse. 

When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.

Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.

You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse. 

“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.” 

Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.

“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away. 

For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place. 

But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace. 

Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.

He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.  

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk then.” 

Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience. 

“We can talk in your car. The keys.” 

Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it. 

“Y/n.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. 

“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.” 

The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him. 

“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.” 

“But I’m not going back.”

“You are.”

You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now. 

“I said. I’m not going back.” 

Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal. 

“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”

His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together. 

“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.

But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction. 

You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.

The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him. 

“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.

“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”  

He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes. 

“You hear me? Brat.” 

He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself. 

A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.

You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him. 

[yandere-romanticaa]

I feel like I'm 15 again. Todoroki was my first BNHA love, it's only fair that he gets a little something.

Shoto, who has had his eye on you ever since his UA days. He was enrolled in the hero course while you were in the general course, leading a completely separate life from his own. You had your own interests, hobbies, friends.

It was so beautiful to admire, from a safe distance of course.

Shoto was aware of his popularity amongst the student body due to his powerful quirk and impeccable grades. Whenever he would walk down the hall to class the murmurs of hundreds of students would follow, their beady and curious eyes either glaring daggers of envy or were in absolute awe of him.

Either way, he did not care, not for any single one of them. He was never too keen to call the people around him "extras" in the same way Bakugo did but whenever he would catch sight of you in the hall, every single possible distraction really did become a hassle. His cool mask was always under the dangerous threat of melting at the mere sight of you, it would even triple if you talked to, or if God was feeling merciful, accidentally touch him. His mask of indifference would slip for a brief second, dual eyes widening in shock as he would get a whiff of your perfume and would curse the fact that there were so many people around.

If he could die with his nose buried in your neck, it would be the sweetest way to go.

Shoto would become paranoid of the thought of being discovered. Sometimes, just sometimes when he was feeling just a little bit bolder than usual, he would press himself just ever so closer to you in the cramped hall and would take in every nook and cranny he possibly could. The average student would think nothing of this as he was probably just in a rush to get to class. He would also always apologize politely, Shoto would even try giving you a sweet smile while doing so.

However. The people who knew Shoto were not your average students.

Bakugo was not known for his subtlety and that legacy still lives on. On a Friday evening when the last bell had rung and the classroom was empty, the hotheaded lad trapped Shoto in a corner.

"Just say how you feel dumbass." Bakugo had said, his gruff tone slightly quieter than usual.

At least he had enough grace to not be a complete jackass.

With his eyes closed and lips pressed in a thin line Shoto had shook his head in defiance. Bakugo made the entire situation sound so easy, as if Shoto could just walk up to you and ask to hang out. You were a kind person and would most likely say yes, but Shoto was not so sure if you could handle the sheer intensity of his feelings. This, whatever this was, was all consuming, it left Shoto feeling breathless and restless, for who knows how long. You made him lose focus but you also made him so much stronger at the same time. He would space out in class a bit too often for comfort, which lead to Aizawa scolding him until the tips of his ears turned red.

This was so much more than a simple crush.

Bakugo shrugged his shoulders and exited the classroom. "Whatever you say icy hot. Just don't start crying if things don't go down the way you want them to."

Time passes, you all graduate. Shoto still pines helplessly from a distance but he has gotten just a little bit closer to you. Sometimes you meet up and hang out, he could always feel the tips of his fingers twitching in anticipation, eager to hold you but he kept his distance.

He didn't want to scare you off.

Even more time has passed and Shoto is a professional hero now. He is an honest worker and has built up a strong reputation. Everyone wants to be him or be with him.

But he still wants you.

Even after all these years, he still longs for your touch. He longs to be the only man in your life, the one you come home to.

Shoto watches you from his office window, his eyes glued to you and the person you were so lovingly fondling over. He grits his teeth and clenches his fist so tight that his knuckles turn white as snow.

That should be him down there. He should be the one who gets to hold you, touch you, kiss you.

It should be Shoto Todoroki who you love. Not whoever that extra is. He swiftly turns his gaze away from the window, a sick amusement coming over him. "Extra" really was a fitting term for whoever was down there.

Shoto should have listened to Bakugo all those years ago. He should have listened to him. He may be a cocky loudmouth but he was right and you had slipped right away from him.

Finally, it was time to take matters into his own two hands. He was done longing and lingering in the shadows. He wasn't too keen on manipulating the hero system he swore to protect but damn it all. It had to be done.

Killing your little lover was so easy, it came to him like breathing. The beauty of his quirk that it was so versatile, he could come up with so many creative ways into disposing that pesky thorn in his side. Hot flames and horrid ice marred the flesh of your little lover but Shoto was clever. Oh yes, Shoto was indeed so clever as he made sure to keep the physical torture to the minimum, just in case someone decided to get smart and start suspecting him.

Besides, it was so much more impactful to gloat over his victory. He was the one who was going to take care of you for the rest of your days together.

Not even death could tear you away from him.

Shoto watched the life being snuffed away from the poor sucker as he cried and spat out pools of sweat and blood. There were no heroes here that could help him, not a single soul was in sight.

He was completely in Shoto's mercy. And he was not going to give him a single drop of it.

The pro hero tossed the lifeless body aside and hid it sloppily, because he knew that you would be worried, that people would come looking. He cleaned up the scene of the crime and secured himself an alibi, just to be safe.

Shoto started walking towards his office but the adrenaline of the encounter still pumped in his veins, his mind was all over the place.

And your face was front and center.

Instead of his original plan of waiting it out, Shoto made the hasty decision to just.... Take you. He had waited for years, and years and years. He would be gentle, naturally.

And with time, he was positive that you would come to appreciate him.

And just like that, he was at your front door, ringing the doorbell like crazy. You opened the door in a worried frenzy, dressed in your comfortable pj's which Shoto just adored.

Suddenly, he had pushed you inside of your apartment and closed the door with his foot, freezing it ever so slightly with his quirk. He pinned you to the ground, both of your arms in a single tight grip as the other ever so gently caressed your face. His gaze was wild but focused, so utterly lovesick that there wasn't a single word which could describe the range of emotions he was feeling.

Finally, after all these years Shoto had you where he wanted you. And there was nothing that could change that.

[cruel-seduction]

Hi, i don't care what character it is but can you write about an ex husband who's yearning for his ex? 😖 I love me my depressed and sexually frustrated men who want nothing but to look and get a whiff of your scent! Thank you

(Sorry it took so long, but this one was tough writing cause I didn't knew what to write)

Content Warning:

Explicit Sexual Content

Obsessive Longing and Yearning

Sexual Fantasy and Desperation

Mild Voyeuristic Elements (involving found personal items)

Lingering Traces

He stepped into the empty apartment, the echoes of their past lingering in the air like a haunting melody. Every corner was a reminder of what they once shared, and as he moved through the familiar space, the memories clung to him like a shadow. He tried to focus on the task at hand—collecting the few belongings he had left behind—but his mind drifted back to you.

The scent of your perfume still lingered, a blend of floral sweetness that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. He could almost see you in the sunlight that streamed through the window, your laughter dancing through the air as you painted the walls with your vibrant spirit.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he opened the laundry basket, hoping to find a towel. Instead, something caught his eye. Buried beneath a pile of clothes was a small, delicate piece of lace. His heart raced as he pulled it out—your panties, soft and inviting, the fabric sheer and barely there.

He held them up, the sight of them sending a rush of heat through him. The familiar scent enveloped him, a mix of your body wash and something uniquely you, intoxicating and deeply familiar. It struck him like a bolt of lightning, flooding his mind with memories he had tried so hard to forget.

He was frozen in place, his heart pounding as he inhaled deeply, letting the scent wash over him. It was intoxicating, and before he realized it, he was sinking back against the wall, the fabric gripped tightly in his hand. The ache in his groin was undeniable, a throbbing need that demanded attention. He could feel himself growing hard, a desperate throb that begged for relief.

His mind raced with memories of you—how you’d look at him, those sultry glances that made his heart race. He could almost hear your soft laughter, the way you’d bite your lip when you were feeling playful. The image of you pressed against him, your body warm and inviting, flooded his thoughts, igniting a fire within him.

With a shaky breath, he slipped his free hand under his waistband, fingers brushing against his hardness. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself slowly, each movement deliberate as he imagined you there with him. The feeling of your skin against his, the warmth of your breath, it all consumed him.

“God, I miss you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. As he pumped his hand up and down, he imagined you teasing him, the way you’d push your hips into him, urging him on. He could see you clearly in his mind, lying on the bed with that cheeky smile, wearing nothing but these very panties.

He tightened his grip, gasping as he lost himself in the fantasy. “What I would give to feel you again,” he whispered, his strokes growing faster, the tension building deep within him. Each glide of his hand was a reminder of how you used to drive him wild, your body writhing beneath him, begging for more.

His thoughts spiraled further into the fantasy, imagining your hands roaming over his body, your lips trailing down his neck. He could almost feel the heat of your breath as you whispered sweet nothings, urging him to take control, to claim you like he used to. The idea sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickened his pace, the need for release surging within him.

“I want you so badly,” he groaned, imagining how it would feel to push you down, to bury himself deep inside you, feeling you wrapped around him completely. The thought alone pushed him closer to the edge, the pressure building as he recalled the way your body would arch against him, the way you’d moan his name, desperate for more.

“Just one more time,” he gasped, lost in the haze of longing and lust. With every stroke, he envisioned you beneath him, those delicate lace panties pushed aside, your warmth welcoming him home. He could almost hear your soft whimpers, could almost feel the way you’d clench around him, pulling him in deeper.

As the pleasure surged, he lost himself in the fantasy, his breath quickening as he neared the edge. “I need you,” he cried out, his voice raw with desperation. With one final, powerful stroke, he came undone, his release spilling forth as he imagined you there with him, your scent flooding his senses, leaving him breathless and aching for more.

He collapsed against the wall, panting as the reality of the moment settled in. The weight of the fabric lingered in his hand, a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost and the longing that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

[noyasmashing]

Tamaki is literally my only anime crush 😭 and then you write for him 🫶

Can we have yan Tamaki hcs? I don’t know if you write yan or not

ANYTHING FOR U MILLY!! I have not written yandere before so ill try my best ;3 (sorry if it sucks)

CW: soft yandere?? nothing to crazy just a bit of stalking and sexual fantasies, sub coded Tamaki, praise, and degradation.

First and foremost, this man is the epitome of shy. I mean, seriously, he blends in pretty well, never going out of his way to bring attention to himself. And he totally plays that to his advantage. You'll catch him subtly trailing after you, taking mental notes of your every move, even down to the exact time you do things. He insists it's for your protection, unwilling to acknowledge to himself just how unsettling his behavior is. If you're into coffee, he's got your order and the precise moment you grab it each morning memorized.

And he's definitely strategic about it. Say he knows you tend to stroll over to the library after classes, he'll just happen to "accidentally" cross paths with you during his "routine afternoon jog."

But don't expect him to strike up a conversation just yet. No, instead, he's content to admire you from a distance, pulling all the stops to catch your eye without saying a word.

Oh, and let's talk about compliments. This guy eats those up like candy. Anytime you praise him for his heroics or strength, his elf-like ears turning bright red, stumbling over his words to thank you.

He gets oddly possessive if he catches you chatting with any other guy, especially if it's Mirio. In his mind, he's already picturing you two planning the wedding. But, of course, he's way too timid to voice any of that. Instead, he'll just retreat to a quiet corner, silently brooding, hoping you'll notice he's upset without him having to say a word.

I can just tell physical touch is his weakness. You'll find him "accidentally" bumping into you, using any excuse to press his body against yours just to get by, or letting his hands brush against yours as he hands you something. All those little moments of contact? Yeah, he's definitely not immune to those.

Growing up, he was never one to show much interest in girls. Crushes were foreign to him, until you came along. Your laughter at his silly jokes alone was enough to make his head spin. He craved the rush of dopamine and nerves he felt when he was around you, wanting more with each passing moment. Eventually, he took things too far.

Following you home was undoubtedly one of the most reckless actions he had ever taken, and predictably, he got caught. Even if you did return feelings for him, your initial response would be to scold him for his invasive behavior.

He feels remorseful, tears falling down his red cheeks, but the attention you're suddenly giving him weakens his knees. It's a revelation to him that he also enjoys being degraded by you. Suddenly, all he can think about is you tugging on his long locks and calling him nothing but a toy for your own pleasure.

That is when he starts experiencing wet dreams about you. Humping his pillow in his sleep as he moans your name, along with little gasps and sighs. At the same time, he is wetting his underwear with an embarrassing amount of cum. Never once did he feel so perverted and horny, but he's too caught up in the moment to worry about it.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That’s Not My Neighbor (1) | Yandere Bnha

“I’m sure you didn’t have a nose piercing the last time I spoke with you, Mister Kirishima. Besides you're not on today's list.”

“Wait it’s not what you think please–”

“Sorry.” 

As apathetic as your reasoning you clicked the button and began to dial the D.D.D. It didn’t matter that there was frantic and harsh banging against the closed metal doors. All that did matter was that the shouts and struggles of D.D.D agents were quieting down. The metallic door came up to show the mysterious build of the building’s agent. 

“The cleaning protocol is completed. You may continue your job.”

“Thank you.”

You look down to reorganize and once over the documents you had; stopping when you find the agent still standing in front of your window, gas mask, and all. 

“Do you need something?”

Instead of apologizing or defending themselves they simply stood there. Rolling your eyes you put the documents down, sending a light glare. They were in the way of possible residents. Which means wasting time on your shift. 

It was three minutes before a voice crackled again. 

“You—took up more shifts.”

Resisting the urge to sneer you took to restacking your papers while you answered. 

“I did. Is there a problem?”

“I thought the other guy would be here at this time.”

Refusing to hide your anger this time you slammed your papers down as you leaned back in the chair.

“On the books he is but he had an emergency so I’m filling in, my shift is next anyway.”

“...Are you getting paid for this?”

So that was why…You sighed, no longer scrunching your eyebrows. Flashing a small smile you straightened your posture.

“He owes me a favor and lunch; so I’ll be okay.”

They stood a little while longer before bowing their head and making their way out of the building. You wondered if this meant one of you was going to get fired. Pushing that aside you continued to look ahead waiting for the next possible resident to walk through.

Your gaze was so fixed on the window you failed to hear the squeaking of the door of your office and the steps behind your back. Only squealing when your chair suddenly twirled around to reveal an intruder.

“HIya (Y/n)!”

“Eeep!”

“Don’t get so nervous just wanted to stop by!”

It was Denki Kaminari,  resident in F2-03 shared with Hitoshi Shinso, piercings on his ears, yellow hair with a black stripe, and an occasionally derpy look on his face. His current employment is as a private electrician, which means he’s often called out for emergencies and may not always be on the list. 

Which he isn’t because he’s got the day off. 

“Sir Kaminari please don’t surprise me like that. I am working.”

“Sir?! Ouch, (Y/n) you wound me!”

He fakes a shot to the heart wobbling around before dramatically falling onto the floor.

“It’s not healthy to take a job as dangerous as harshly as you do. You know all the residents have countermeasures.” 

It’s Shinso Hitoshi, a private detective, and D.D.D reporter, with crazy purple hair and eyes with bags under them, and a hanging earring on his left ear. He also isn’t on the list today. Figures, his work is sporadic and Shinso is an insomniac homebody. 

“Yes, but my job is meant so that you won’t have to use them. I must stay vigilant against Doppelgangers.”

He sighs and scratches at his unruly head. He kicks his partner who is still playing dead on the floor. Kaminari stands up swiftly to once again invade your space as you fail to scoot your chair away. 

“So have you eaten today?”

You pushed him away, turning to your window once again, scanning the perimeter before speaking over your shoulder. 

“I keep myself hydrated when I’m working.”

Shinso sucked his teeth, coming to your right side as he glances at the files you’ve neatly organized. Kaminari follows his lead going on the opposite side to poke at your phone and the list. You swatted his hands away.

“That doesn’t sound like an answer.”

You sighed, “Relax. My coworker promised to give me lunch as compensation for taking his shift.”

What should have soothed their worries instead made them more upset. Both of them glaring at you. 

“If he’s going to give you lunch but you're taking his shift today, that means you’re not eating lunch today.”

“Yeah..what he said!”

You sighed again standing from the chair to turn the both of them away. Putting your foot down–you cross your arms and look at them with your customer-service smile,” As an extension of D.D.D I’m tasked with not only guarding the door from doppelgangers but protecting my health. 

Kaminari was making that infamous dumb face and Shinso was just about mirroring him.” 

Nonetheless, you continued,” It’s important to the D.D.D that their door people are in their best working conditions and I am paid handsomely to do that. “

Shinso was the first to try to speak narrowing his eyes as though he was questioning the validity of the statement. 

“Wait, hold on–”

But you continued, “If you have any complaints, please call the non-emergency number if you’d like to make a complaint.”

As if timed perfectly a knocking at the glass had you hurriedly hopping and turning in your chair to look through the window. Looking more exhausted than Hitoshi was what looked like the teacher Aizawa Shouta, who was glaring at the couple past your head. 

“I’m about to file a complaint if you don’t check my ID and Entry request.”

“Sorry sir. Right away sir.”

Nothing was out of line, everything matched and thus you let him in. A passing glance at the reflection behind you showed both of them sporting an annoyed grimace. Sending a side–eye to the grumpy teacher their gazes were still fixed on you. 

“(Y/n) if you’re the only one working you need to take an appropriate break.”

“I already said–”

“No (Y/n) whether the D.D.D okays it or not this isn’t healthy.”

Hitoshi’s interruption was a lot harsher than his usual speech, the kind you imagined he used when speaking to captured doppelgangers. It made your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up. 

Feeling the heat of someone’s breath on your neck, you hadn’t noticed Kaminari closing the gap between you two. You wanted to turn but you could feel his arms cross over the arms of the chair trapping you in your seat and leaving you far too close to look him in the eye. 

“I think as concerned neighbors we ought to intervene. What do you say Hito?”

“Guys I haven’t been working that long really–”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Taking advantage of the wheels on your chair Kaminari pulled you away from the desk, holding you in your chair to the doorway leading to the apartments. Hitoshi made quick work of your station closing everything locking the doors and closing the office window slot. 

“But there’s only one more for my shift please—at least let them in!”

At your behest, Hitoshi rolled his eyes looking at the list of expected tenants before scowling at the one uncrossed name on the list. 

“I honestly think having a doppelganger is better than him.”

You wanted to protest but Kaminari quite easily tossed you over his shoulder as he skipped down the hall. Watch from your bobbing perspective as Hitoshi easily locks up your office with your backpack in hand. How did he know where the key is?

Trying to speak up, you were shaken by Kaminari trying to get your attention with his smile as though he wasn’t abducting you. 

“So what should we have for lunch (Y/n)? Beans and Rice? Meatballs? Katsudon?”

“Come on (Y/n). He’s not going to stop until you say what you’re going to eat.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

The Floor is Breathing.

Yan Overhaul x F Reader. 

Synopsis: You feel like both the witness and the victim in an uncommitted crime.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking/non-consensual recording, mentions of binge eating, and some infantilization.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

You can swear that these white walls blink.

Something, somewhere here, has eyes that look you up and down – you feel its breath on the back of your neck when you fall asleep facing a wall, the only decorated wall you have ever seen in this facility, actually. 

You’re not crazy. You have to remind yourself day in and day out of that fact, but you’re not crazy; you know another living being is in here with you, watching attentively.

Overhaul – no, “Kai” is what he forces you to call him now, says that there are no cameras in your room, but your gut screams otherwise.

You asked if he was sure, once, two days or four days, or six days ago – it should still be recent as you did not feel as isolated as you do now – and he responded by saying if he really wanted to keep a closer eye on you, he would just become your new roommate.

You’re unsure as to if that was a threat. He seemed happy when those words came out of his masked mouth, so perhaps it was just some unfunny gest. He made those sometimes, especially when he tries to coax you into taking vitamins every mealtime. Those jokes were as dull as the light brown and white pills piled up in a little cup meant for dipping sauces. Perhaps it was repurposed or Kai had ordered some from somewhere or he has some restaurant under his control somewhere.

Somewhere so dirty and filled with sugar and oils and artificial coloring. You’d die for just a sniff of pizza being served at an all-you-can-eat buffet or deep-fried cakes being served at a pop-up carnival. If health inspectors didn’t approve of such spots, or at the very most give them a C rating, then Kai wouldn’t go within two blocks of them. Much less let you. You’d stuff yourself to the brim like it is your last meal and compared to the boiled chicken and rice and broccoli you were given daily, chips and cookies may as well be.

A call of your name makes reality come back faster than a slap to the face – and hurts just as much.

“I asked you something, sweetheart. What do you want to do today?” Kai asks.

He didn’t seem angry or irritated as he repeated himself. His voice was still soft and the way he taps his foot against the pastel pink heart carpet reflects that. Times like these almost make you wish you were deaf. The words feel rehearsed but also feel as though they are straight from the heart like the actor was passionate enough in reciting their lines or was grossly in love with the story of the show. 

“I don’t know,” Unlike Kai, you forget your script quite often – aside from that one saying.

“You don’t know?” He’s still smiling. You know it.

“No.” You murmur. He puts an elbow on the small white table, stabilizing his head with his gloved hand. “I don’t.”

“I have some ideas,” The feeling of dread makes your stomach drop. Or was it your heart? Lungs, perhaps? You don’t know how to breathe right now, after all.

“I… don’t know, Kai.”

“You said that already.”

For your sanity, you choose to look at your freshly remade bed instead of his eyes. The rabbit plush you were given on your third or so day here lays alone on top of your singular pillow. The bars surrounding the sides reminded you of a crib. You’re only allowed to put your legs over the railing when Kai comes to your room in the morning and you’re not allowed to get out by yourself; he grabs your hand to assist you.

“Do you want to know what my ideas are?”

You’re not allowed to say no to anything Kai suggests. It’s an unspoken rule, unlike the ones for your room. “Um… okay…”

“Well,” Kai begins, his other arm being laid out on the table. His palm is facing upwards and you know what that means.

Your hand moves towards his – you try your best not to flinch this time in response to his slight grip, but you fail.

Kai chooses not to notice it for now. Just a small treat for this morning’s hug.

“I was thinking we could go to my office. Just for a change of scenery.” His thumb moves back and forth across your knuckles. “We could bring your colored pencils or your book if you’d like. It’s still noon, so we have some time before your daily check-in.”

“Okay…”

*~*~*~*

You had opted for your book in the end, although you regret your choice now because two of the four walls in Kai’s office have windows, and just outside of them were uncrowded streets that lead up to small hills on either side. The hue of the grass was off – a dull brown – but considering it was about time for autumn to roll around, you didn’t judge. Not that you could, anyway.

Could you ask to go back and get your colored pencils? You attempt to dismiss the thought by imagining future possibilities. Kai seems to be working on his computer right now though, and the guards outside wouldn’t let you leave by yourself anyway.

To hell with it, you think. It’s fine. He won’t get mad. 

At least… you hope so.

You walk over slowly until you are nearly touching his left shoulder. “Can I please get my colored-”

It’s you, from different angles and at different times of day – even some videos of you before you were kidnapped. They are of you sleeping, of you eating, of you looking under your bed. They are of you putting on socks, of you microwaving dinner after a long workday, of you talking on the phone with friends for hours. They are long and short – you can see some of them even repeat. Oh fuck. Is there a camera in this room too, or-

Before you can continue analyzing, Kai slams his laptop shut.

“Go back to reading, sweetheart.” It’s an order – you know it from the way he does not blink and the way his arms cross. He didn’t want you to see his screen; that fact is as clear as a cloudless sky. “You can color another day, okay?”

[temptacioun]

† noncon ; somnophilia / noncon, mentions of drugs, oral (f. and m. receiving)

the bed creaks softly under his slow movements, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approaches your pretty passed out form. he’s not worried ; it was pretty easy to spike your drink, you were too focused on the conversation before to notice. that had been your first mistake, but he couldn’t complain.

for a moment he just sits and stares, eyes trailing down the glimpses of naked skin and his pants are suddenly much too tight. he leans forward, fingers twitching ; itching to touch and grope. and so he does. his fingers find solace in cupping your tits through the skimpy dress you decided to wear that night, a soft moan leaving his lips at the feeling. much better than he’d imagined all those lonely times.

he shifts, to lie down next to you with a soft smile on his lips — how pretty you are. he could see your eyes twitching behind closed lids, were you dreaming? oh, he hoped you were dreaming of him, too. like he always dreamt of you. he can’t help himself when he leans in, your lips are too inviting to pass up on.

he’s careful at first, pushing his lips against yours before his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and he could taste the faint remnants of your cherry gloss. he moves again, ontop of you this time with a hand squishing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to part to receive his eager tongue. he can’t help but moan against your lips, his free hand leaving your breast in favor of trailing down your body — lower, and lower. teasing the hem of your dress and grabbing the fat of your thigh and spreading your legs with ease.

he liked you like this, so compliant and soft. he pulls back to settle between your thighs, eyes trained on the pretty red lace there. his hands tremble with excitement, so careful when he reaches out to peel the garment down your thighs and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how it sticks to your already drenched pussy.

he’d told himself he would be slow, that he’d enjoy himself and take his time ; but you were too tempting. he almost topples over, bracing his palms against your thighs and his nose bumps into your clit, tongue flat against your cunt and he was salivating at the taste. the soft little whimpers and gasps that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. he reaches higher, tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers inch closer towards your cunt — mesmerized by how easy your wet heat swallowed his fingers, practically sucking them in and he moans into your pretty pussy.

his cock strains against his sweatpants but he couldn’t care less about himself at the moment, so engrossed in your sweet scent ; he swore he was getting high off it. would get lost in your taste and he doesn’t even know how long he’s spent between your thighs already when he finally lifts his head for a breather.

he swears his eyes almost fall out of his head when he sees your face. your eyebrows cinched together, lips slick with drool and so soft, so plush. he chokes on his own spit at the sight. there’s a moment of silence, only your soft breathing could be heard before he shuffles himself off the bed to stand next to it instead. his hands fall down to pull the strings of his sweatpants and free his cock.

his hand falls down, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and turning your head to face him instead. he thumbs at your bottom lip, pulling it down before he squishes your cheeks together once more. his free hand wraps around the base of his cock while he pushes against your pretty plush lips, smearing precum all over and he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight.

he still can’t believe how easy it all was, pushing his cock past your plump lips and he releases a breath he was holding ; hand slipping to the back of your head and curl his fingers into your soft locks to guide you further down his length. he could hear your breath stuttering, your throat protesting around his cock but he doesn’t care. he can’t hold back anymore.

his pace quickens, grunting and groaning ; hips stuttering and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he finishes down your throat. how sad, he’d hoped he would’ve lasted a little longer, but he can’t complain with how soft your throat felt. his lips twitch up into a small smile when he pulls away and tucks his cock back into his pants. his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, collecting some of his spilled cum and smearing it over your lips.

there was cum on your face, a soiled wet patch on the mattress beneath your thighs — he couldn’t wait to see your face in the morning.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome

♡ FEM reader

“I’m back,” he calls out softly once opening the door.

You’re already there—must have heard him drive up then padded over—standing there, wordlessly awaiting his kiss. You don’t notice it yourself, though he does, how you get up on your tippy-toes and meet him halfway. You’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s really cute. And so he doesn’t say anything on it—doesn’t want to spook the habit.

“Welcome home,” you say, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you soft and snugly against his chest—smiling at how you nuzzle into it—yet another cute thing you’ve started doing lately.  

“Mh-thank you, sweetheart—feels good,” he coos into your hair, petting it smoothly while you stand there, neither of you pulling away. “What did you do today?”

You sigh and sink further into his embrace, mumbling, “Same as any other day…” almost sulkily. “Just waiting for you.”

He chuckles, “Oh, that’s not true. I saw you watching something—anything fun?”

You hum, hiding your face in his chest, mumbling into it, “Not really… just binging another franchise they decided to ruin...” You shift and look up at him, keeping your chin on his chest while grumbling, “I don’t understand why they’d reboot something just to completely disregard everything it originally stood for—and all the effects just make it look cheap.”

He can’t help but chuckle again, ruffling your hair with a fond smile. “You’re such a nerd.” He could eat you up the way you are right now, plated on a silver platter for him all so willingly. “A cute nerd, though.”

You pout, “Honestly, what’s going on out there? I barely understand anything I’m watching anymore—it’s all alien to me.”

His hug on you tightens, but you don’t flinch like you used to—even as the look in his eyes darkens along with his words. “Yeah, the world’s gone mad. You’re better off in here.”

You smile then—agreeing for once. It’s also a new and adorable habit. And then you unzip his jacket for him, helping it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him—all so naturally. Looking back at him while asking, “And how was your day?”

He smiles while beholding you—to think such a question would ever leave your lips all so domestically—it’s enough to make his chest swell. Then with an exaggerated sigh, he whines, “Absolutely horrible without you,” wrapping you up in another hug, this time from behind, nuzzling his chin into the ticklish skin of your neck—making you giggle. Arms around your front, swaying you back against him. “Every second, I was counting down ‘til when I could come home to you.”

“Is that right?” You grin at his gesture—twisting around so that you could look at him straight. Slouched as he stood, all but draping you with his taller form—eyes leveled with yours, half-mast and adoringly admiring you like his most precious thing—his sweet loving girlfriend.

You cup his face in both hands, thinking the same of him—your sweet loving boyfriend. You’re about to kiss him, but then, struck by the thought, there’s a sudden freight in your chest that follows, and you jolt back as if he’d burned you.

He stills, warm expression twisting to one of concern. “Hey—” Stepping after you with his hands laid on your forearms, giving you a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” You don’t know, you think. Something’s off. Something’s not right—about his touch, about your heart, about all of it. “I’m just…” 

You think about it, eyes skittering over his face—did you always look at his face? Since when did he become so familiar? Since when did you walk around wanting to see it?

“I just…” the words feel all strange in your mouth, but there’s no denying there’s truth in them. “I missed you.”

His features blank at that, blinking at you. “Oh…” Then he softens—smiles with a chuckle, “Well, I’m home now, so…” His head slants, looking at you in askance as he gently brings a hand up to thumb your chin. “What’s with this pouty face?”

You bite your lip. There’s so much noise in your chest—so many conflicting feelings. You’ve begun missing him when he’s gone—when he leaves you. You’ve started wishing for his return, spending your day in wait. Since when did you start doing that?

It’s not right.

“I’m slipping,” your voice is shaken and weak, eyes welling up with thick water enough to have him look blurry—you shake your head and squeeze them shut—making the tears fall quickly. “I’m not supposed to miss you—” you cry. “That’s not right. I’m not—you’re not—”

Not your boyfriend.

“Hey, hey, sweetie. It’s okay,” he cuts your sob off with two warm hands placing themselves on your wettened cheeks, holding you tenderly. You layer yours on top of his, feeling it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling into oblivion. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he coos, smearing out your teardrops, making them dry. “It was gonna happen sooner or later, right?”

Your eyes peel and look at him—through the veil. His face is a comfort—though you feel strange seeing it as such, when you know, even though most of you has decided to forget, that he’s a psychotic stalker who’s kidnapped you and held you captive for what must be closing in on a year already.

“Don’t feel bad—it’s only natural,” he assures, pulling you into his chest again—both arms around you snugly with his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you from side to side. “Everything’s fine. So you’re losing your mind a little—we’ll just find something else for you to think about. Right? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? More clothes? Sweets? Something fun? Maybe you can take up another hobby?”

He loosens his hold to look down at you—his face warm with devout for you, with a wordless vow saying he’ll do everything, give you anything in return for your happiness.  

You love him, you realize then with a shudder.

You’re in love with your crazy captor—your batshit lovesick oversweet captor who shares your bed and treats you like a spoiled pet. And it’s so fucked up—so, so very fucked up, so very fucking fucked up. But it’s true—you’re in love with him. And you have been for a while.

“What do you say?” he asks in hope.

Yet, you can’t say it out loud. No, not yet—it still feels all so wrong. But, at the same time, you don’t think there’s a need for you to put it into words for him. He’s always known you better than you have yourself, after all. And that wholesome smile on his face says it all—he already knows.

“No… I just,” you start, staring into his eyes—those full-loving eyes that look at you as if you’re the only thing of value in the whole entire world. “I just want…” It’s a scary confession—both admitting it to yourself and him. “You.” 

You look down, curling your fingers into his shirt.

“I don’t need anything else.”

It’s the truth and nothing but the truth—albeit a somewhat sad truth. It’s your one wish—your only wish. You just want him—to stay, to hold you, to kiss you. You can’t even think of wanting anything else anymore.

“Oh, well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” he says, stroking your cheeks, fishing for your shy gaze—smiling once hooking it—pretty teary puppy eyes, lost and looking for directions. 

Don’t worry—he’s here to help.

“Where do you want me then, sweetheart?” His lips near your forehead. “Here?” He gives it a chaste kiss, earning your sniffle, then ducks down to your neck. “Or here, maybe?” Giving that a kiss as well, this time with more behind it, sucking the skin with a soft bite. 

“Or maybe…” His voice is low, and it makes your skin buzz with a desire just as dark—shivering with it as his lips ghost yours. “Here?”

You hang in his hold, leaning after it.

But he just smiles, “Tell me, sweetheart—where do you want me?”

Your lip wobbles, brows cinched as your balled fists needily pull him close—yearning for it.

“Everywhere.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[animeyanderelover]

@lucyrose9820 asked: A scenario where Obito, Itachi, Tomura, Dabi, Shoto, Ulquiorra are sleeping and their beloved caresses their faces?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, abduction, isolation

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Caressing their face while they sleep

Obito Uchiha

🔥​You'd be mistaken to think that a healthy sleep is something Obito is familiar with even if your presence provides enough comfort for him to doze off for a while though he still finds himself waking up multiple times a night. His sleep is very light to begin with so it is very likely that he will be either already be awake by the point you caress his face or will wake up as soon as he feels your touch as he is always very aware of any touches you give him. His heart is pounding and he feels a fuzzy euphoria swirling around inside of him as your love washes over him like soft summer rain. This is the bliss that he has always longed to have with the person he loves and especially if you have been someone who has been up to that point scared of him you'd turn a bright fire of delusional thinking into a raging inferno. His fingers instantly wrap around your wrist as soon as you pull away from his face, keeping your warm palm on his cheek as he opens his eye to look at you., asking you to do it again.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡​Sharing a bed with you is a new development in your lives and even if he can tell himself that you have made this decision based on your own account, he can't stop thinking that the isolation ever since your abduction has probably led you to crave his presence as he's the only human interaction you have left. Itachi has a light sleep himself and needs a long time to fall asleep but he enjoys it listening to your own steady breaths as you slip into dreams. He'd pretend to be asleep as soon as he feels your fingers stroking his face, waiting to see if you'll do anything else. For the split of a second he does feel happiness as it is one of the first signs of affection that you have given him since you requested to share a bed with him. It all is quickly drowned out by guilty awareness though as he questions how genuine your affection is and how much was influenced by the months of isolation. You'll never know that he was awake as he won't talk about it even the next day, a memory he will keep to himself.

Shoto Todoroki

🔥​❄️​Shoto's mostly delusional behavior has led you to share a bed with him from a very early point on. He's going to treat his lover better than his father did which is why he needs you to love him as much as he loves you and his delusional thoughts assist him to drown out any words and signs of protest from your isde even if awareness sometimes creeps in and destroys his view of himself. When he wakes up in the middle of the night though to feel your fingers brushing over his burnt mark, his delusions instantly latch on to your sign of affection. His burnt side has always been a reminder of what his father stole from him, a reminder of the day his childhood was taken away from him and his mother as well. To feel you caressing something that has always been connected to his loss of innocence and childhood with such loving touches makes him very emotional as his arms draw you closer to his chest, taking you by surprise. You finally love him, don't you?

Dabi

🔹​Dabi has stopped caring about anything which includes the people around him. How lame would it be to pretend to care for you just because you happen to be his obsession? If he wants you in bed with him, he'll have you in bed with him. Touya doesn't expect you to love him with the things he has done and he won't change for you either as this man you see in front of you is who he is now. He doesn't expect to wake up abruptly to feel you caressing his jaw and almost on reflex he grabs your wrist and yanks your hand away in a tight grip that has you let out a whimper of pain. Initially he almost doesn't seem to process that you were caressing his face out of affection as he stares at you, why would you with someone as shitty as him? After a while he lets go of your wrist though, unsure what to say to you. Ultimately he decides to close his eyes again with no apology, though he keeps on looking at you as if demanding you to do it again because he is too prideful to ask you for your touch.

Tomura Shigaraki

✋Whether we're considering his gremlin version or his more mature version, you'll end up forced to share a bed with him and especially a pre-Re-Destro Shigaraki would be very demanding of any touches which you will have to give him as his quirk would activate if he were to fully touch you. His reaction would differ depending on what Shigaraki we're going for in here. I'd feel like before remembering his past, Shigaraki would not fully realise just how significant it would be for you to touch him on your own accord without him having to force you. He'd just wake up, stare at you before going back to sleep again whilst mumbling that he wants you to continue what you're doing right now. A Shigaraki after regaining his memories would realise the implication that you have started gaining feelings for him when he senses your hands touching and stroking his face even though he didn't tell you to do so whilst pretending to stay asleep, worried that you'd stop if he were to open his eyes.

Ulquiorra Cifer

💚​I'm not even sure if an Arrancar actually needs sleep but even if they should, Ulquiorra still might as well be an insomniac. He doesn't require sleep like you would and you may think that this may mean that he'd leave you in peace yet it is this unnatural fascination he finds himself having with you that leads him to sometimes lay down with you all to observe you and grasp what it is he is feeling for you. So even if his eyes are closed, his mind is wide awake as he is merely copying what you are doing whenever you go to sleep. The sensation of warm hands on his cold skin is one of the things he is still not used to as the concept of physical affection is one of the many things he is still unfamiliar with. Green eyes glow in the darkness of the room as he gazes at you, startling you in the process as you quickly draw your hand back only for his own hand to grasp your wrist and hold it in place. The feeling was unfamiliar but not unwelcome yet he wants to know from you why you felt the need to touch his face in the first place.

[zentraex]

Summary: Amorica is a virus that makes people turn yandere. Never would you have thought, that your boyfriend Izuku would be one of the infected.

Pairings: Yandere! Izuku x Reader Warnings: Yandere behavior, violence Remember: English differs a lot from German, so I apologize for possible mistakes:

Love-Virus: Amorica

"Deku! Here, here! HELP!" shouts a young girl, whose legs are mercilessly smashed in a pile of rubble. She is small and petite, has her whole life ahead of her. She can't give up yet, not if she has to see someone else. 

Her boyfriend, her darling, her everything. 

She MUST see him again, she still MUST spend time with him like she planned it and she MUST marry him, start a family with him and grow old together. 

She just has to!

"HELP!!!! DEKU! I'M HERE!" she screams with full force and thankfully her cry for help is finally heard. In front of her appears a muscular green-haired man, number one among all heroes, one who goes by the hero's name Deku. He has saved thousands, no, even millions of people. Today he is there for her, for the poor little girl who whimpers and shivers in pain. 

"Don't worry, I'm here now," he says and puts on his broad and wide smile that everyone in Japan, no, even the whole world, knows.  He lifts the debris aside and pulls her out so gently, even though his hands look like they could crush someone.

She breathes a sigh of relief as the pressure on her body subsides. It was really hard to bear. She sweats all over her body, the stress brought her into high gear. 

"Thank you, Deku!"

The hero only nods in response, but his smile hasn't even left his face. Not even when the girl's sweat mixes with his and causes a tingling sensation in the affected areas.

_

"Izuku, you're scorching hot!" you realize when your hand almost burns on his forehead. 

It's been a day since the earthquake. Your boyfriend was on duty and once again saved countless lives. 

Your boyfriend is a good person, maybe even the best.

You're incredibly happy to have him and when you look at his reddened face, you can see that he feels the same way.

He always forgets to think about himself.

You just smile as you put a cool rag on his forehead and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. 

"I'll make you chicken broth, okay? Rest until then, you will certainly feel better."

Izuku just nods and closes his eyes. Just a few seconds later, you hear slight snoring from the living room. 

You smile. 

Even if you don't like it when he's sick, you still like to nurse him back to health.  

_

"Izuku, your fever won't go down! You've been on 39 degrees for three days! You have to go to the doctor!" you shout through the house.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head.

"It'll be okay. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

"Don't kid yourself, Izuku. That's what you said two days ago."

You're worried, no, scared, because you don't know what to do about it. 

Izuku just lifts the blanket and opens his arms. 

"Just come here, please. Then I’ll feel better."

You frown, but you still comply with his wish. Usually, your boyfriend doesn't want you to get too close to him when he's sick. He is always afraid that he could infect you.

That's why you're surprised when he hugs you and gives you a kiss on the forehead. 

More worry spreads through you. 

Maybe it's really something so serious....

_

"Do you really have to go to work?" your sick boyfriend asks you as he makes his way to you. Today is the fifth day that Izuku has his fever. You had the days off, but now you have to go to work today. 

"I'd rather take care of you, but I have to."

Izuku hugs you, his strong muscles holding you firmly in place.

"Why don't you take the day off?"

Laughing, you shake your head and give him a kiss on the cheek. Reluctantly, Izuku lets go of you, a pout on his lips. 

_

"Darling!", Izuku greets you as you get home. He has already torn the door open before you have even arrived at your house. 

With your eyebrows drawn together, you walk towards him. Usually, you both always call each other by name.

Izuku was never the type for pet names.

Is it his illness?

Izuku has never waited so eagerly for you.

Is it his illness? 

Izuku has also never hugged you as tightly as he does now.

Is it his illness?

Today is the sixth day. Will he get well soon? Hopefully he will get well soon. It makes you nervous, worries you and gives you a little anxiety.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better, but I missed you so much."

You put your hand on his forehead: it really seems to be cooler now.

_

"36.5 degrees. Congratulations, you're officially healthy today," you smile. Izuku returns your smile and gives you a kiss on the forehead. "Are you going on patrol right away?"

"Yes, of course. I've rested far too long, haven't I?"

You just nod and laugh. You can't wait to get back to your usual everyday life. 

_

"The virus, Amorica, spreads through bodily fluids among people. The exact number of people affected is still unknown, as it is not noticeable to the infected and the people around them. Symptoms include exaggerated longing for one's partner, unhealthy jealousy or immoral behavior. Those affected explain that they have begun to no longer perceive their actions as bad.  How contagious the virus is, is still unknown at the moment. However, scientists suspect that some are immune to it. 

Today we tell the story of Molly. She is a 20-year-old lawyer who is infected with the virus. Molly doesn't know how long she has been ill, but her boyfriend pointed out that her controlling behavior began a month ago. At first, the signs were only vague, there were only frequent questions about her boyfriend’s well-being. After a few weeks, Molly started following her boyfriend everywhere. Days later, Molly committed her first murder out of jealousy. Although her boyfriend was in constant contact with her, he has no symptoms.

How-"

You change the channel in shock. For some time now, the news have been reporting on such cases. Izuku also tells you that there are frequent cases. The infected act out of unhealthy love: they stalk, kidnap, even kill. The victims are usually distraught afterwards and have to seek therapeutic help. 

Society is afraid, people are becoming suspicious, you also have concerns.

What if you annoy someone infected? 

A shiver runs down your spine. 

Hopefully not...

_ _

Meanwhile, Izuku watches you from the door frame. 

For some time now, his desire for you has become bigger. He can't really explain it, but somehow, he wants your attention especially often, want to hug you especially often and wants to kiss you especially often – from head to toe.

What's wrong with him?

Of course, he loved you before, otherwise you wouldn't be in a relationship. For some reason, however, he can't let you out of his sight, as soon as he averts his gaze, his heart aches. 

It hurts, cramps and contracts. 

It's like he needs you to survive, because without you, his heart doesn't beat anymore. 

It's worse when he's at work. He can't think of anything but you! 

All the injured people he saves suddenly have your face!

Then his breathing becomes more and more heavy until at some point he can't breathe at all, suffocates almost at nothing. 

He always comes home immediately afterwards, so, he can calm down when you greet him at the door, with your sweet loving smile. Every tension, every worry and every fear that ran through his whole body until now dissolves and is replaced by a feeling of warmth and security. 

Even now, as he watches you from a distance, it feels like everything is in harmony. 

He breathes in and out in a relaxed manner as he lets the situation sink in and then sits down next to you. However, when he looks at your face, he notices the deep wrinkles of your forehead and the look of worry in your eyes. He copies your facial expression and puts an arm around you, pushing you close to him. 

Your scent rises to his nose and despite the situation, he has to suppress a moan as his eyes roll back. 

Had your smell always such an intoxicating effect on him?

"What's the matter, darling? Is something bothering you?" he murmurs as he rests his chin on your head. 

"No... well, yes, sort of," you say and return his hug. Izuku's heart seems to jump happily as your tender arms wrap around him. 

"Well then, go on! What's going through your pretty head?"

"Well, there's this infection going around right now and I'm afraid of what people are capable now. What if someone is after me because I'm only talking to her lover?"

Then don't talk to anyone, you only need me. Just stay here, then nothing happens. I protect you, with me you are safest. 

Izuku would like to say that, but before he can say the words, the penny drops. His eyes widen when realization hits him: he is infected. 

"Don't worry, nothing will happen," he says, gives you a kiss on the forehead and goes into his study room, locks himself in.

That explains everything! That's why he's no longer himself!

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no.

What is he doing now!? Is there a cure? Not yet, right?

He grabs his green curls tightly as he drops into the chair. 

What if he endangers you because of this virus! You would leave him!

No, you would never leave me, I wouldn't let that happen.

No, no, no, away with these thoughts. That's not him! These are not his thoughts; this is the virus! 

His heart beats like crazy and his breath becomes heavy as panic runs through his veins. 

He already had to deal with a few cases involving the virus. Some infected people locked their loved ones in the basement so that they could not leave them, some broke their legs for the same reason. As a sign of love, some carved their name into their partners skin with a knife. 

What if Izuku will do something like that to you?

At the thought, he quickly rushes to his trash can as he vomits. 

These are horrifying ideas! He doesn't want that, he's afraid, so incredibly afraid. 

The only thing he can do now, is to get out of your way and hope that he will heal for some reason, or you will leave him and go somewhere, where you are safe of him.

Leave? No, you can’t abandon me! I'm nothing without you!

The thought makes him vomit again.

_

It's been a week since Izuku started to avoid you like the pest. You're worried, something is bothering him and he refuses to talk to you about it. He locks himself in his room, sleeps there and doesn't even come out to eat. 

Today, you made ramen the way he likes it best. You knock gently at his door, but there is no answer.

"Izuku? I made ramen. Would you like to come out and eat with me?" you finally ask after a while.

He doesn't even open the door when he answers you, his voice only sounds distant and quiet from the other room. 

"No, I'm not hungry, but thanks for preparing."

Tears form in the corners of your eyes as you are rejected yet again. He always says that, but even if you leave him a bowl, it's still left untouched the next day.

"Izuku, what's wrong with you? Please talk to me!"

There is no answer and then you sob loudly as the tears flow. 

"Izuku, did I do something wrong? If so, I'm sorry, but please stop avoiding me!"

Again, no answer and then you leave, crying and heartbroken. 

_ _

Behind the door, Izuku's world collapses when he hears your crying. His heart splits into thousands of shards with every sob. 

He tied himself up at the other end of the room so he can’t go to you. 

He had a hard time getting through the first two days, but at the third he couldn't stand it anymore and stood next to your bed at night and watched you. For this moment, all his thoughts were in harmony and he had been able to relax again after two days of suffering.

That was the last time he saw you, because he realized how sick his behavior was. 

Then he tied himself up so he would not be tempted to get too close to you again. Deep down, he knows that these shackles are of no use at all and that he could break them with ease, but he tells himself that they are indestructible. 

For the sake of both of you. 

_

Three days later, he hears a man's voice from the living room. 

Who is this?

He doesn't know this voice. Has the time finally come? Are you leaving him now?

No, no, no! You wouldn't do that to him, would you? You wouldn't replace him just because he doesn't show up for a few days, would you? 

Who is this?

Who dares to get too close to you? 

"Make yourself comfortable on the sofa," you say. 

"Thank you, I'm glad that we're doing something together again. How long ago was the last time? Three years?"

"Yes, maybe. It definitely feels like an eternity. What a coincidence that I saw you on the street today."

So, you know each other from the past? Why doesn't he know about him? Why didn't you tell him about this guy? Why is he in your apartment?

Why are you doing this to him?

He is trying so hard for you, and you!? You're cheating on him!

No, no, no. You wouldn’t, you would never do something like that. He has to calm down, otherwise he will do something he might regret. 

Izuku doesn't know how long they guy stayed already, but every second feels like torture. He doesn't want to keep himself restrained anymore. He misses you so much. 

So so so much. 

He will certainly never hurt you, right? 

The victims of infected people are usually distraught afterwards and have to seek therapeutic help. 

But with him, it will never come to that. He will treat you like a princess as you deserve. He will carry you on his hands and make sure that you lack nothing, that you are always well. 

So, he can stop, right? He can go out, right?

"By the way, are you single? You know, I've always had that huge crush on you and always hoped to see you again. Maybe you can give me a chance, hm?" says your visitor. 

_ _

Before you can answer, the door of the study suddenly breaks and dust and smoke is blocking your view. 

What the…?

You only hear breaking bones.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your chest as it begs you to run away. But you can't help but be glued to the ground as panic flows through you. 

Only when the view clears, you recognize Izuku, who is holding the smashed skull of your childhood friend and looks at him deranged, breathing heavily. Then his eyes suddenly wander to yours and a big smile pulls onto his lips.

"Darling!" he says and throws the skull away like it’s garbage. When he takes a step towards you, you take one back, shivering. Izuku's smile falls and he looks at you anxiously.

"Don't be afraid, I would never do something like that to you!"

You can only cry as you stretch out your arms in front of you, hoping it will keep him away and protect you. 

"Don't cry, darling, please. Everything’s okay!"

"No, stay away."

You know that if Izuku really wanted to do something to you, he would so already. He has the power to do so. 

Who would have thought that your beloved boyfriend would ever kill someone? Number one hero? The best person out there? The hero, who saved thousands, no, millions of lives?

That you'd ever be afraid of him?

Who would have thought that a virus could change a person in such a way that you finally decide to rush to the exit. 

But you don't get far when two muscular arms wrap around your stomach and capture you. Izuku pushes you close to him as he buries his nose in your hair. You hear him inhale loudly and exhale contentedly as he squeezes you even harder.

"Finally," he says. "Finally, I have you in my arms again, darling. I promise that I will never avoid you again. I have no idea why I did this in the first place. How did I come up with this idea? Am I stupid? This feels like heaven!"

More tears flow down your cheek as he drags you further and further away from the door. 

"We have so much to catch up on for the long time we haven't seen each other."

[cruel-seduction]

Pathetic and Pleasured

Content Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content intended for mature audiences only. It includes degrading language and humiliation, power dynamics with the customer in control, masturbation and use of a vibrator, BDSM elements (dom/sub dynamics), forced edging and denial, rough play (grinding on the floor), light praise kink, and a cam girl scenario (adult work context). Reader discretion is advised; please proceed only if comfortable with these themes.

Summary - A cam girl giving private a show to a guy. How humiliating can it be?

You’ve been performing cam shows for months, mastering the art of control. You know how to captivate your audience, how to make them pay for more time, for every little move you make. Most of your regulars are easy to manipulate—eager to watch whatever performance you decide to put on. But there’s one viewer, Ethan, who’s different. He never begs for more. He’s quiet in the chat, calm, patient—almost like he’s waiting for something specific, something beyond the usual games.

Tonight, he’s booked a private session, and the moment you see his username pop up, your stomach tightens. He’s your best-paying client, but this isn’t the first time he’s paid for extra time. You’re used to the routine by now: a slow striptease, maybe playing with a toy, guiding your fingers along your skin while he watches. But something about him always makes you feel...different.

Your usual confident smile falters when you see his first message flash across the screen.

"Stop pretending."

You blink, confused. Usually, the viewers are demanding, asking you to start undressing, or telling you what toy they want to see you use. But not him. His words hit you harder than you expect. You feel a twinge of uncertainty, like he’s seeing through the perfectly crafted persona you show everyone else.

"I paid for you to stop acting like you’re in control," he types, making your pulse race. "You’ll do exactly what I say tonight."

You’ve dealt with demanding clients before, but something about the way he commands makes you hesitate. Slowly, you lean back, letting your body relax as you realize you don’t have to play this time. He’s not interested in the performance—you are, for once, just an object for him to command.

"Take off your top, slowly." The message appears on your screen, and you obey, fingers trembling just a little as you pull the fabric over your head, letting the camera capture every movement. You glance at the chat, waiting.

"Good girl." The praise makes you shiver, but then the next message wipes away any sense of accomplishment. "Touch yourself like you do for all those other losers. Show me the act."

You hesitate, your fingers moving to your chest as you perform the usual routine: a soft caress, biting your lip like it feels better than it does. You can’t help but feel silly, but you do as you're told, letting him watch. The next message is brutal.

"Pathetic." The word hits hard, and your body reacts before your mind catches up. Heat spreads through you, unexpected, as you stare at the screen, waiting. "You don’t even know how to touch yourself, do you?" Ethan's words continue, and despite yourself, you’re drawn in.

"Pick up the vibrator." His command is firm, leaving no room for hesitation. You grab the toy beside you, knowing where this is going, but the normal thrill of being in control isn’t there anymore. This is different. You’re just following orders now.

The buzzing fills the room as you turn the vibrator on, hovering it over your skin, waiting for his next instruction.

"Lower." The word flashes across the screen, and you do as you’re told, pressing the toy between your legs, gasping at the sudden intensity. "Don’t stop until I tell you."

Your breath hitches as the vibrations pulse against your body. Your hand trembles, but you keep going, feeling the wetness pooling between your thighs, knowing he’s watching every second. The heat builds quickly, and your body starts reacting involuntarily, hips shifting as you try to chase the release. But then another message flashes on the screen.

"Don’t you dare cum."

It takes everything in you to pull the vibrator back, the frustration overwhelming as your body aches for more. You whimper, eyes flicking to the camera, silently begging for permission, but you don’t get it. Not yet.

"Such a desperate slut," Ethan types, his words making your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and excitement. "You’d do anything for a customer, wouldn’t you? You’d cum for anyone as long as they paid you."

You bite your lip, fingers gripping the sheets as you resist the urge to come, despite how badly you want to. It’s degrading, humiliating, but your body reacts anyway, craving his next command, aching for the release only he can allow.

"Now beg."

You hesitate for a moment, breath shallow, before the words tumble out. "Please... Ethan, I-I need to cum." The sound of your own voice makes you cringe a little. Normally, you control the pace of your shows. You’re the one making them beg, not the other way around. But with him, it’s different. The power is entirely his.

The chat stays silent for what feels like forever, the buzzing toy still held loosely in your hand, teasing your sensitive skin as you wait. Finally, a message blinks on the screen.

"Not good enough."

Your heart pounds. You grip the toy tighter, frustrated. "Please," you whisper, louder this time. "Please let me cum, I’ll do whatever you want." The words come easier now, the need in your voice undeniable.

"That’s what I like to hear."

You shift on the bed, waiting for the permission you’ve been craving, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the next message throws you completely off balance.

"Get on the floor. I want to see you grind against it like the desperate whore you are."

Your pulse quickens, the degradation slicing through you. But before you can second-guess it, you slide off the bed, letting your knees hit the cold floor. You move onto all fours, positioning yourself in front of the camera so he can see everything, your heart racing as you wait for his next command.

The chat flickers again.

"Lower."

You bite your lip and slowly lower your hips until you’re hovering just above the floor, your body tense with anticipation.

"Now grind."

A shiver runs down your spine as you obey, pressing yourself against the floor and rocking your hips, the sensation overwhelming as the rough surface drags against your skin. You gasp, the friction strange but somehow deliciously painful, feeding into the humiliation. Your body reacts immediately, throbbing with need as you move.

"Look at you," Ethan types. "Rubbing yourself on the floor like a bitch in heat. You really are pathetic, aren’t you?"

The sting of his words ignites something deep inside you, the humiliation and the desire mixing together in a way that makes you burn hotter. You grind harder, panting softly as you chase that feeling, your body betraying how much you’re enjoying this even as your mind screams how degrading it is.

But you don’t care. Not anymore. Not with Ethan watching.

"Faster." The next command is ruthless, and you pick up the pace, your hips moving more desperately, the friction building to an unbearable intensity. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body on fire, but still, he doesn’t let up.

"Touch yourself while you do it. Show me how badly you need it."

You reach between your legs, fingers sliding through the slickness, the added sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your fingers move in time with your grinding, the mix of pain and pleasure building to a point where you can barely take it. You’re so close, so desperate for the release he’s been denying you.

"Stop."

The single word freezes you in place, your entire body trembling on the edge. You let out a frustrated whine, your hand pausing as you press your forehead against the floor, breathing heavily. You’re so close it hurts, your body begging for permission to finish, but you know better than to disobey him now.

"Look at yourself," Ethan types, his words sharp. "Look at how pathetic you are, rutting against the floor for me. You’ll cumwhen I say, and not a second before."

You lift your head, glancing up at the camera, your face flushed, hair clinging to your damp skin. His next message flashes across the screen.

"Get back on the bed and grab the vibrator."

You scramble to obey, pulling yourself off the floor and crawling back onto the bed, fingers shaking as you grab the toy again. The buzzing fills the air as you switch it on, placing it back between your legs, your body immediately responding with a shudder of pleasure.

"Now finish for me. But I want you loud. Let me hear how badly you needed it."

The command is all you need. You press the vibrator against your aching core, letting out a loud, broken moan as your body finally gives in. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending lighting up as the pleasure crashes over you in waves. You ride the high, your moans filling the room as you shake, the release more intense than you could have imagined after being denied for so long.

When youu finallyy cum down, your body trembling and spent, Ethan’s final message appears on the screen.

"Good girl."

You lay there, breathing hard, your mind hazy from the intensity of it all. And as you stare at the screen, you realize one thing: you can’t wait for the next show.

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about hcs for yandere hero Katsuki vs yandere villain Kirishima for a reporter darling who always gets caught in the middle of their fights , romance for both of them please.

I thought the roles would be swapped, but here's my ideas on this :)

Yandere! Hero! Bakugo vs Yandere! Villain! Kirishima with Reporter! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Blood, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Swearing on Bakugo's part, Dubious relationship.

Bakugo and Kirishima used to be such good friends in U.A.

Nowadays it seems things have changed.

Out of the two of them, no one really expected Kirishima to turn to villainy.

Others always assumed Bakugo would due to his temper and volatility.

But, despite his personality, Bakugo managed to show everyone he can be a pro hero.

It's unknown why Kirishima defected but... such details are lost in the past.

In a way the two 'friends' still meet.

Often in battle... some even wonder if they seek one another out.

Perhaps it's Bakugo's attempt to rehabilitate Kirishima once catches him...?

Either way, you are often the one on the scene to report on the two.

At first it was because you were fascinated.

The backstory behind them both intrigues you, making you naturally want to know more.

However, over time when you try to do other cases, you somehow get caught up between the two.

It feels... planned.

Your first meeting was simple.

You were a bit reckless, asking your crew to get a bit closer to the two...

Only for Kirishima to lock eyes with you... and take you hostage for flying too close to the sun.

Yes... Your first interaction with the two was a hostage situation... on live TV.

Bakugo no doubt pauses when he sees you in his ex-best friend's arms.

He can't use his Quirk... you can't harden.

It becomes an awkward attempt to... talk to one another with you trapped against Kirishima's chest.

Kirishima is obviously trying to antagonize Bakugo by taunting him.

It nearly works... until Bakugo hears you whimper and struggle weakly against Kirishima.

He... He can't... He needs to be careful.

Kirishima no doubt playfully flirts with you to toy with Bakugo, holding you close and calling you adorably vulnerable.

The situation is tense.

But, eventually, Bakugo manages to land a clean hit without his quirk to get Kirishima to drop you.

The villain hisses in pain as Bakugo picks you up and leaves the scene to put you somewhere safe.

Your first encounter pumps adrenaline through you... You were understandably scared.

However, you still watched them both from a distance to report on their battles.

It's still your job.

... Then the two of them picked up on it....

Perhaps Kirishima playfully waves at you, only to use his quirk when Bakugo blasts him.

That or maybe you Interview Bakugo after the battle, only for him to try and hide his embarrassed blush... and Kirishima photo bombing the camera before fleeing.

The two are oddly still... amicable to one another despite their sides.

Naturally, as a reporter, you speak with Bakugo after battles.

Which sometimes catches the attention of Kirishima, who has an interest in you.

You felt so good in his arms... He wants that again.

Bakugo, due to having been friends with the villain, no doubt senses Kirishima's interest.

Feeling responsible for such an issue... Bakugo becomes like a personal hero at times when you report.

Ironically... this both makes Bakugo attached to you and Kirishima around you more often.

Fans suspect Bakugo of being attached to this one reporter he saved.

You two are always together, even when you're trying to focus on a news event.

He just... never leaves you alone... even to the point of getting irritated when you push him away.

Many view this info with either envy or fully support it.

Someone somewhere has made fanfiction of you both, no doubt about it.

You may give in and start asking the pro hero to hang out when he's not busy.

Leading you to befriend the pro hero properly.

Bakugo doesn't mind the friendship... yet, as months pass with him protecting you and hanging out...

He realizes he really has fallen for you, a reporter he saved.

Kirishima, on the other hand, stalks you and always plans where he strikes around you.

You see, he both likes to annoy Bakugo and be around you.

Bakugo being around you helps him... but also annoys the villain.

Did he seriously fall for you like he did?

For Kirishima, it felt like love... or desire... at first sight.

Ever since he got you in his arms the first time... and the countless times after that to toy with you... He can't help but want that more.

But... Now Bakugo likes you, too.

He understands the appeal, yes, but he's not willing to share the cute reporter he found.

Now the two are fighting for an entirely different reason.

You could be doing an interview or reporting a news event, only for it to transition to Bakugo and Kirishima fighting again.

Kirishima is always playful, even sabotaging your report by coming up behind you and grabbing you with a wink.

You can bet that sets off fans too.

Then Bakugo practically tackles him off you.

Their battles are often intense... and bloody.

They're about an easy match with one another, Kirishima slightly weaker than Bakugo yet still able to hold his own.

It's a... complicated scenario for you, a reporter just trying to do their job.

A villain and a hero... Both completely enamored by you.

Even to the point of giving their bloody battles more purpose.

Often at the end of their battles you can see how bloody they get....

Kirishima always manages to bleed, his skin burned and scarred due to Bakugo's blasts.

You see Bakugo with lacerations and bruises after he fights with Kirishima's hardening quirk.

Sometimes you even talk to him as he's treated, the pro hero often telling you to be quiet or shut up... yet he really enjoys your voice.

It's only matter of time before Kirishima decides to try something new.

Sure, being playful on camera with you and toying with Bakugo is fun...

But he's getting tired of sharing.

I can see Kirishima sneaking around at night and into your home, only to trap you in his arms.

"Hey, cutie... I think we're done playing games, yeah? Bakugo can't be around all the time to save you...."

Kirishima would attempt kidnapping you at some point, perhaps months after following you and Bakugo around.

Bakugo, of course, is beyond pissed and worried when he realizes you aren't home.

Bakugo has found himself having a tendency to check in on you at your home to hang out.

But... when he finished a hero mission... he noticed he hasn't heard from you and hasn't seen Kirishima...

Which makes his blood boil.

You just know Bakugo would level buildings to find you.

All while Kirishima keeps you in one of his bases of operation, acting oddly nice with you.

He offers you food and gifts, perhaps a drink or two, just a chance to get to know each other.

"DynaMight's been telling you I'm dangerous to you, huh? Typical of a hero... well... maybe I just want to get to know you? You're just so cute, know that?"

I can see Kirishima actually getting you to trust him or at least be more open to hear more about him.

He admits his interest, which catches you off guard, but before you can even ask about it...

The side of the base blows open, causing you both to jump.

"YOU!"

Bakugo's voice is like that of a roar as he stalks closer, seething.

"YOU TOOK THEM AND RAN OFF WITH THEM, RED RIOT? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?"

Kirishima seems oddly playful with his grin, pulling you close.

"Oh, DynaMight! Had no idea you'd be joining us~"

"I'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE WHOLE DAMN CITY FOR YOU, HAND THEM OVER."

"Nuh uh, finders keepers, dude. I always saw them first."

The issue with this rivalry is its... volatility.

The two are destructive when they fight.

Would they kill one another? Not intentionally.

But Bakugo would damn near want to after the stunt Kirishima's pulled.

This would be the point where something has to be done.

It's either Kirishima turns himself in... or someone's dead.

The worst part about it...?

You're stuck in the middle with no choice but to see the outcome.

[yanderelionwrites]

MHA Yandere Lists: Showering

(This has been sitting in my google docs for FOREVER, it's kind of old)

Content Warning: yandere, suggestive themes, invasion of privacy, mention of kidnapping

The yanderes who absolutely insist on bathing or showering with you. Rarely will they let you bathe by yourself, so you might as well get used to it as soon as possible. Why wouldn’t you want them there with you? They take such good care of you, treating you like royalty. They’ll be extra gentle when washing your hair, only using the best of products to make sure it comes out nice and soft. They’re eager to wash your body too. They love seeing the soap suds cover your skin, and will pepper kisses all over your neck and shoulders while you two relax in the tub ❤️

| DENKI KAMINARI, HAWKS, Mina Ashido, MIRIO TOGATA, Nejire Hado, Present Mic, Re-Destro, Twice

The ones who respect your boundaries and let you bathe alone. While they desperately want to join you, they understand that this is something you want to do by yourself. When you’re done, they’ll blow dry your hair and brush it for you, if you let them. They just want you to be comfortable with them and to love them, and they know forcing you will not help. They will be over the moon if you ask them to join you though 💕

| ALL MIGHT, EIJIRO KIRISHIMA, FAT GUM, Fumikage Tokoyami, Hitoshi Shinso, IZUKU MIDORIYA, Kyouka Jiro, Mezo Shoji, Momo Yaoyorozu, Mr. Compress, Natsuo Todoroki, Ochako Uraraka, Sero Hanta, Shota Aizawa, SHOTO TODOROKI, Spinner, Tamaki Amajiki, TENYA IIDA, Tsuyu Asui

The ones who just walk in unprompted 💀 You’ll be minding your own business trying to clean yourself and then suddenly this asshole pulls back the curtain and hops in, no fucks given. It’s their bathroom anyway, so you have no right to complain. Scream and shout all you want but they’re not leaving. They’re so nonchalant about it too, they’ll just look at you with a smirk and be like “What?” Bastards 😤

| DABI, Endeavor, HAWKS, HIMIKO TOGA, KATSUKI BAKUGO, MIDNIGHT, Mirko, Tomura Shigaraki, Twice

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

OMG, I just love your writing! Especially the yandere Big Brother shigaraki HCS! If your requests are still open, can I request Yandere Big Brother Shigaraki with his little sister being AFO's daughter and they used to be really close for years but one day He had thought she had died after some villain got her and there was not even a body left behind, but in truth, she had run away and joined UA. Some platonic headcanons of yandere Big Brother shigataki and yandere Father AFO about that?

Thank you! 🖤🖤🖤

Rebellion | Yandere AFO and Shigaraki Tomura

Rebelling in such a way is going to be hard beyond belief

Whether you do this in your youth or closer to your teens it’s a battle

That can’t be won without the hero specifically All Might’s intervention

But eventually they do it

Faking your death and making it seem believable enough for Shigaraki

But it sends him spiraling 

His old life and now you

He’s so consumed with grief he doesn’t pick up on AFO’s minor reaction

AFO is probably more than aware that you’re probably alive

Already planning to recapture you but it’s not a priority

He knows they won’t kill you

And he knows they’ll likely use you as bait

But he smiles with glee when he thinks about how tomura will react when he knows you are still alive

He recognizes his dear little sibling immediately

No birthmark or signature sound required

He’s already imagined and even generated what you would’ve looked like had you survived

If you revealed yourself during their siege on the united liberation front

You might have saved a few lives or made the death toll a beat higher

Gigantomachia recognizes you and immediately prepares to catch you if you appear in front of him

Showing up in front of the unfinished Shigaraki he barely computes that it’s you

He instructs the nomus to capture you safely while he focuses on Deku

With his newly awakened body he gains AFO’s relaxed visage

Which causes even more of a divide when in their little mind meld Tomura realizes he knew

“All these years…and you never thought to tell me!?”

Capturing you may not be an immediate priority because they both know the heroes wouldn’t do that

….but after what happened to Twice who can be sure

It’s only an issue if you’re providing  substantial support to the heroes with your own quirk

Then that is a rebellion neither of them are happy about