#yandere my hero

[allfearstofallto]

The Sweetest Spoil of War

Yandere! Demon King Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: a war ended with an unwilling marriage. The fighting ceases, but at the cost of your hand.

TW: Forced marriage, NSFW implications, size difference, mentions for Dub/Non Con, virgin! Reader, yandere/obsessive themes

AN: another one that has been sitting in the drafts for years!! But I finally finished this first part. Hopefully I'll have the second, more smutty part written up soon!!

A brush of blush across the cheeks. A swatch of color on the lower lip. Many swipes of a comb through your hair. The tightening of your bodice fixed your posture, and you were adorned with heavy jewels and rings. All the while, a celebration was happening outside.

It wasn’t a celebration you could see, you weren’t allowed to move a muscle, couldn’t even turn your head to look out the window, in fear that you may disrupt the many people who were spending their time making you beautiful. But it was one you could hear. As the maids picked and prodded at every part of your body, cleaning you here, applying makeup there, covering this, uncovering that, you listened to the happiness of the people. Your people. Well, technically not your people any more.

They popped fireworks and sang songs. Their cheers grew louder and louder as the minutes went by, as you got more and more dolled up. Street vendors loudly advertised their wares and you could hear children playing in the streets again. It was probably the first time they’d left their house in months, it was probably the first time it was safe enough to do so, they had every right to celebrate. But at what cost?

If they knew the price that was paid for their safety, the price they paid for freedom from the war, the war that they were losing, would they still cheer? Would they still dance and sing? Would the celebration still continue?

The price was you, of course. The second daughter of the King of the land and the gem of the nation, or so you were called. Good deeds came like second nature to you, they were as easy for you as breathing. The way you donated and volunteered was like nothing the royal family had seen. Your kindness was a tall tale spread around like wildfire and marriage proposals were in abundance for you. You were like a tourist attraction. Rather than coming to visit your country for sights, people would visit to meet you, as if you were some sort of celebrity.

Your nation was small, but what it lacked in land, it made up for in stocks and trade. It was a modest business that made more than enough money. But greed is a drug, one that your father was heavily addicted to. Expanding was a bad option, you always told him so, but your words fell on deaf ears, and as the farmers marched further and further upon land that wasn’t theirs, the true owners of it fought back.

For a year, your father insisted that the war with the rival nation could be won. You always wondered why he thought that. The land that he’d intruded on belonged to none other than the demon king himself, a man feared but rarely ever seen. His endeavors were like horror stories spread across the nation, and your tiny little country didn’t even have an official army. Rather, there were a few patriotic men who were sent off to fight first. There wasn’t much of them left to bury when they returned. Then who left was decided by draft. The first men were a warning for what was to come and everyone knew that. Moral dwindled when people began running away from their own country, rather than fighting for it.

Negotiations started when the supply chain got cut off by the demon king’s army and with a nation as small as yours, no other kingdoms were offering help. The talks were started through letters at first. Your father sat at his desk, lips in a tight grimace as he read the sheet of paper over and over again before writing his response in return. Things went on this way for months, the writing back and forth as war raged on right outside your door. Until the day he showed up.

You didn’t think that the demon king himself would come, but you watched out from your front door as the carriage pulled into the town. It was large and ornate, covered in shiny stones and what appeared to be bone as well. It was a mixture of the high class of the aristocrats and the barbarian ways of life of the demons. The hoofs of the horses clopped down the road and the carriage swayed ever so slightly side to side. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was in there.

The driver of the carriage himself was also a demon. A burly blond one with piercing, blood red eyes and horns like a ram. When he snarled at one of your citizens, you could see his teeth. They were sharp like the heads of arrows, like they could bite through the flesh of a mere human at any time. It made your skin run cold as you realized that all demons shared the same few traits, long nails, horns, and sharp teeth. You could only imagine what those natural advantages were doing against the measly weapons the army was given.

You could already feel your palms sweating as the carriage stopped in front of your castle. The entire family had to come out to greet guests, as were the rules, but all you wanted to do was slink back into your room and pray that the war would end naturally. And you weren’t the only one silently wishing to leave. You spared a glance out of your peripheral to the rest of the family and saw that they too stood stiffly, or did everything they could to avoid eye contact with the large carriage that casted an almost laughably ginormous shadow over your family.

The blond boy pulled at the reins of the horses, stopping them in front of the castle, before stepping down from his seat in front of the carriage. Even for a demon, his face was easy to read. He didn’t want to be here, and he most definitely didn’t want to have to be cordial. You could see the hatred for your father in his eyes, the way he wanted to just lunge at him and end things in this very spot, but he didn’t.

“His Highness, King Kirishima Ejiro,” he said almost sarcastically. Then he opened the door to the carriage behind him.

Big didn’t even begin to describe the man. He was humongous. Not only was he tall, but he was also thick with muscles and hands that looked like they could crush your skull with ease. You looked at him and you saw a demon. His hair was long and spiky, and unlike the companion he’d brought along who had curled horns, he stood straight up, only adding to his monstrous height.

The suit he was wearing was still adorned with demon-like paraphilia, bones and bottles filled with what you could only assume were potions. His scarred hands were covered in rings and the sly smile he gave your family showed you enough of his teeth to prove to you that you’d rather die than go near his mouth.

You didn’t know where to look, you could barely even think as he stood before you. His eyes weren’t red like his subordinate, rather, his were a beady, inky black color that scanned across your family. They were taking in every single sorrowful and fearful face, until they landed on you.

You felt your heart stop beating completely when he looked at you. Your breathing became shaky and you felt yourself about to lose consciousness from his gaze alone. Why was he still looking at you? The rest of the family only got a glance, but you, it seemed like he had to forcefully peel his own eyes away from you.

“You have a lovely family,” he said. His voice was deep, yet booming, it felt like your ankles were shaking, just from hearing him speak. If not for the fact that he scared the life out of you, you would’ve scoffed at him. A beautiful family that he was going to ignore when negotiations started. But maybe that was for the better.

He was led inside, following behind your father who was shaking in his boots. He had to duck to get through the door and his footsteps on the tile floor sounded more thunder cracking inside the walls of your home. He looked around with a strange look on his face, one that seemed almost enthusiastic, but that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be happy while he was in enemy territory, not while he could easily be killed.

And that was the plan at first. Lure him in and have the army raid the palace, he’d be powerless since he expressed through his letters that he’d only be bringing one guard. Your father thought he was stupid or naive, but casting eyes upon him showed you that one guard was enough. Anything else would’ve been overkill.

They were in talks for what felt like a few mere moments and he was coming back down the stairs with a smile on his face. You’d long since hidden in your room to keep from having to entertain the blond demon that was sitting in your living room, but curiosity made you peek your head out when you head the door to the office open. Your father was aggressively shaking the demon king's hand, but you could see the horror in his face. There was sweat pooling on his forehead and he looked like he would throw up at any moment. You later found out why he looked that way.

At the dinner table that very night he announced that the war would be ending and the supply lines would open back up. There was a unanimous cheer from the family as you and your siblings argued over who would get to tell the people of the nation that they were free to roam the streets again. You were so ignorant. The way your father looked at you should’ve told you enough. It should’ve told you that the war wasn’t going to end with a trade or an apology, it was going to end with a wedding.

The fireworks continued to boom and crackle as they filled the night sky, while a little more blush was applied to your cheek. No one else in your family knew, they thought you were getting married to some commoner who you’d fallen in love with. Only you and your father knew the truth, and resent didn’t even begin to describe what you felt for him.

Your dress was too heavy, your hair was uncomfortable, you had to stand a certain way, or makeup would get on your collar and the entire look would be ruined. You looked beautiful, that’s what they said to you, but could they not see the hurt on your face? Or the fear? If they saw, they didn’t care, and you were guided down the stairs.

Past the home that you grew up in, the walls lined with family portraits, and your family themselves waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. Your mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. When she found out the truth, she’d be crying for real. They were going to find out eventually, you knew they would, you just wished you could see the aftermath of it.

A carriage was waiting for you, one of your family’s own. Normally in an aristocratic wedding, the carriage from the family of the groom would be sent to pick up the bride, but the story your father spewed gave an explanation. The man you loved was too poor to even afford his own carriage, but love doesn’t know money. You scoffed, but held your tongue. If it were for the sake of your family and your country, you’d go along with it.

You would ride your family’s carriage into the forest, about halfways to the demon king’s palace, then you would switch into one of his. That way, your family wouldn’t catch on, that way, they didn’t have to watch in horror as you were given away to a demon, even though your father knew that they wouldn’t allow something like this, but he did it anyway.

It was an unpleasant ride. People rarely ever traversed through the forest so the carriage shook and jolted. You were getting farther and farther away from the noises of celebration, farther and farther away from your people. If only for one night, you would like to celebrate too, the war was a horror that you were living in as well after all.

You pressed your lips together to keep from crying. You’d already cried enough and you truly didn’t know him or how he’d respond to your tears. You spent hours sitting in that chair getting ready for him, what if he were the type to get angry if just one thing was off? If your make up was smudged or your eyes puffy, would he kill you where he stood? You held it in and pretended to be strong.

The carriage stopped and your door was opened, the second he did. The driver gave you a knowing look as he offered you his hand to help you step down. His fingers were cold, that’s all you could think about as you looked over to see the new carriage that you’d be riding in. The same one that had pulled the demon king into your family’s palace. Your heart sank as you realized that he might be in there. You weren’t ready to meet him up close, not yet.

The blond demon was here again, standing at the side of the carriage. Horses from the demon kingdom always felt much larger. Like they were eight foot tall monsters and not animals. You couldn’t believe you were focusing on the horses, you were trying to look at anything, anything, that would keep you from having to get into that carriage. But he was already opening the door and the carriage from your nation had already turned and pulled away, not even waiting for the transaction to be completed.

That felt like the final straw. Being left behind by one of your own and stuck with a demon. A demon who was obviously sick of waiting for you and who looked like he was just going to force you inside himself.

“The king doesn’t like waiting,” he said, gesturing towards the door. With a meek nod, you walked towards it. Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet and the sound of an owl made the entire ordeal more ominous.

You looked to the demon, then back to the carriage door. He didn’t expect you to go in by yourself, did he? Even in your home nation, the gentleman would offer the lady a hand and help boost her up the step, a boost that was much needed, since demons were naturally taller and the step was too high for you to even reach on your own.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, eyes having already practically rolled into the back of his head.

The step seemed as if it came up to your waist in height, yet he asked you what you needed. “I obviously can’t get up there by myself,” you spat, holding your hand out for his help. You’d never felt the skin of a demon before and honestly, you didn’t want to now, but there was no other choice. The deal had already been made.

He didn’t even pass a glance at your hand, stepping closer to you, he placed his large palms around your waist and hoisted you up with little effort. You tried not to squirm in his hold, afraid that he might drop you. Even for a moment, you were so high up, before you were placed into the carriage, with the door being slammed shut in your face.

The carriage began to move before you were even fully seated and you were thrown back. If this was the way the demon kingdom treated their royalty, you could only imagine what was going to happen to you. But you tried not to dwell on it. Your chest was already tight with fear and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead.

This was it, you thought to yourself, even as you gazed out the window, all you could think was that this would be the end of you. All alone, all by yourself. You wondered what your siblings were doing, what your mother was doing, if anyone was even thinking about you at all, of if the celebration was just too much for them to care.

The carriage swayed and thumped against the ground for what felt like hours. The pretty dress you were in had grown a bit damp from your sweat and you tried to fan yourself. You were nervous. Hot and nervous and all you could do was listen to the hooves of the horses as they hit the ground and wait for your eventual marriage.

Then everything stopped. Of course the carriage driver demon was rough with this as well and you were thrown off of the seat and onto the plush floor of the vehicle. You barely had a moment to catch your breath and regain your bearings before the door swung open quickly, making the whole carriage shake from the force.

Still on the floor, still a bit sweaty, with fearful eyes, you came face to face with the demon king. His teeth were once again what you noticed, those big, sharp teeth that were held in a mouth that was grinning at you cheerfully. He looked overjoyed to see you, even in your crumpled up, terrified state.

“By the gods,” he whispered quietly while still looking at you all over. It seemed like his eyes couldn't focus on one place. Your face, your hair, the swell of your breast, the small of your waist, from your heel clad feet, to your hair that was put into an ornate updo, he couldn't get enough, “You're even more beautiful the second time around.”

You were shivering. God you were shivering like you were freezing. Your stomach was in your ass and your heart felt like it was going to leap from your chest. All that time, all the time you spent being picked and prodded at in that chair, being made to look good for him, all that time and it just now hit you what was happening to you. It started before you could even think to stop yourself and while he looked you over like you were a gift from heaven itself, you began to cry.

Tears ran down your pretty cheeks, smearing your makeup in their wake and you started to hic and sob. You had no control over it and the way his smile fell when you began to weep, made you cry even harder. You were going to die by this demon's hands. You were going to die because your father, the coward that he was, sold you off.

Kirishima turned to look at his subordinate, his face a mix of emotions. So quickly, you could barely see it, he grabbed the blond male by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, “I thought I told you to make sure she was taken care off,” he growled those words between those closed sharp teeth.

“I did,” the blond male muttered back. His tone, his attitude, even the way he was looking at the demon king was disrespectful. He didn't seem the least bit afraid or even bothered by the fact that he was being scolded. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Then why is she crying, Kastuki?” He spoke the words slowly before dropping the man back down onto the ground. He landed with a thud, but didn't protest, “I've told you about your driving. Humans are fragile! They can't handle something like that!”

He merely scoffed and rose from the ground, “Then do it yourself next time.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he said anything. Instead, he focused on your trembling form, still sitting on the carriage floor, “Are you alright, darling?”

He tried his hardest to be gentle with his voice, to be quieter so not to scare you. He reached a hand out to you, but you flinched away from it. You didn't know what to say or even what to do. A part of you felt like the second you left this carriage, it would all be real, you'd really be engaged to this demon, you'd really be with him for the rest of your life.

He tilted his head at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile to the best of his ability, “I'm sorry if Katsuki scared you, but I promise nothing will hurt you.” He reached into the carriage and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer to the door with ease, it was like you weighed nothing to him, “but we should really get you inside the castle and into something more comfortable.”

Your body was tense and you tried to think of what to do. A way out of this. How would you be able to run away from a demon, in the whole nation of demons? Would you even be able to go home? Would you getting away make a war start?

You couldn't even think about it to yourself, couldn't even respond before you were picked up by him and held against his firm chest. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, being in his arms made it feel like you were fifty feet above the ground and all you could do was shiver.

He carried you into the castle. It looked nothing like your own home. It was more worn down, but somehow it was bigger. The tallest tower looked like it was piercing the clouds and the windows were the size of the doors you had back home. You sniffled and sobbed the whole time you were carried up the stairs, and when he finally reached out to open the front door, you finally managed to say something.

“P-please,” you managed to stutter out between your pathetic little hics.

“Oh, so she can speak,” he replied back a little too happily, “and here I was thinking you were mute. That wouldn't have bothered me though, you're still gorgeous.”

More tears ran down your face as you tried to regulate breathing, to get more words out, to hopefully beg for return home before the marriage was consummated, “My father…he…he made a mistake. I didn't want this,”

He kept walking into the castle as you spoke, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed off the walls. You were brought to a day room where he sat you down on a rather large couch, so big your feet just barely managed to touch the ground. He kneeled in front of you while you sat and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands, the more he touched you, the harder you seemed to cry, soaking his thick fingers with tears. He knew you were scared of him, but he just couldn't stay away.

“I know you didn't want this,” he cooed, his breath hitting your face, “I wanted this.”

Before you could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wet and suffocating and all you could do was sit there limply as he engulfed your mouth with his, tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

He tasted of meat and alcohol, typical dishes for demons who were celebrating and his grip on you was firm. His hand had slithered down from your cheek to your shoulder, then to your waist. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Your strength and size was nothing compared to him, just one of his hands was almost enough to completely hold your back. You'd hurt yourself more if you fought back.

When he pulled back, you were panting, breathless. Your first kiss and it was so brutish and even worse than that, it was taken by a demon. Your eyes were still wet with tears and lips moist with saliva, but he was looking at you so longingly. The way you makeup was running from the sweat and tears, your hair disheveled from the kiss, the way your chest was rising and falling, he thought you were more enticing now than ever before.

“Such beauty doesn't exist amongst the demons,” he whispered against your lips, threatening to kiss you again, “I could've slaughtered everyone in that tiny, little kingdom, you know, and I was planning on it. Until I saw you.”

He traced up your back to where the buttons for your dress began. You could feel him fiddling with them, trying to get them to pull apart, but his fingers were too big and his nails too sharp. As more time went by with him unable to access your body, he grew frustrated until he just ripped the dress apart in the back. The fabric gave way easily to him. It was probably no harder than ripping paper.

“Your father didn't hesitate when I asked for you,” his hand was warm, almost hot, against your bare back as he kept ripping the fabric away, “a part of me was angry about that. His own daughter, his blood. He gave you away so easily. But I was also ecstatic. Even if you don't want me, I want you. I know how you feel about me, how I as a demon scare you…” the dress was pulled forward, over your shoulders, but he stopped there, “The war may be over on paper, but if you ask for it, I can kill him.”

You gasped, “Why would I want that? Why would anyone want that?” You were shouting and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of how scared you were. Or how easily he mentioned killing someone. Or how a part of you actually wanted it. A small voice in your head wasn't upset about the idea of him killing your father for putting you in this predicament, and that scared you.

“He gave you away,” he stated plainly, “You have every right to be angry. Angry at him for giving you away,” he pulled the dress down so that it was sitting around your waist. His tongue, that large, hot tongue licked down from your neck to your now exposed breast, making your breath hitch, “and angry at me for taking you.”

“You could still give me back,” You begged quickly, hoping that maybe if he was showing some empathy, some care for what you were feeling, he would let you go.

He shook his head and gave you a knowing look, “I wish I could, but I know how you humans work.” He didn't hesitate to reach his hand up beneath the ripped fabric and tulle that was once the skirt of your dress, “you wouldn't be wed again anyways, not after what I'm gonna do to you.”

Your sobs grew even louder at the words. Despite your abstinence, you knew the implications of those words, you knew what he meant. Despite your lack of experience, you knew why he was spreading your legs and easing his body between them, you knew why he was ripping away at your bloomers, exposing your wet core to the cool air.

“I told myself I'd wait till the night of our wedding, but I fear myself slipping with need for you,” this “need” made itself known when he began to grind his hips against you, the fabric of his pants spreading your lips and rubbing directly against your clit, “They sent you here looking like this, and I'm supposed to contain myself?” he bit his lips with those sharp teeth of his, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard that he was ripping holes in it.

“I won't take you without your permission,” he stated, but he was still grinding his clothed cock against you,like his mouth and his body were two completely different entities. He was speaking one thing, but actively doing the opposite.

You whimpered as you felt him, your eyes just leaking tears. You couldn't speak a word, your labored breathing wouldn't let you. Your chest was heaving as you tried to open your mouth, with only sobs and pleads coming out. Instead you just shook your head, praying that that would be enough of him to stop.

Despite your begging he still pressed his lips to yours once more in another passionate kiss. This time he felt even more roughr than the last. Was this a game for him? You thought to yourself. Did he get off on watching you beg and plead, just to take you anyways.

But he stopped nonetheless and pulled away. It seemed like he was straining to even do that, the way he was looking back at you like he could pounce on you again. He let out a shaking, sigh and clenched his fist together before stepping back and finally giving you space away from his large form and body heat.

“The wedding will be held in three days,” he said with a forced smile. He picked up a blanket from the other couch and tossed it over you, covering your modesty. You held onto that blanket as if it were your life line, hiding your nude body behind it as you shivered and looked at him, “I can guarantee I'll stop now, but I'm not so sure about then.”

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door to the day room, leaving you alone in this large demonic mansion with only the ticking of a clock as your company. You were too afraid to move, too afraid of what was to come next. You didn't know where he wanted you to go or even if he wanted you to move at all.

But you did know what he wanted from you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

[ketsueki-writes]

for your COM event can i have bakugou whos yandere with a fem! reader fluff to like a open or confused but sad angst, im not sure how or exactly what i want but ik you will deliver

ᴀɴ: ʜɪ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ɪᴍ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴍʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛ- ɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ꜰɪx ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ. (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!) ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʏ ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ɴᴏᴡ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴠɪꜱɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ <33

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ꜱɪᴄᴋ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

ᴘꜱ: ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

You hated being here.

You hated spending your days stuck in this house. You didn't care for its luxury, you swore you'd never call it home. The windows were nailed shut. They taunted you. Teasing you as little peaks to the outside. The outside seemed so far and so hard to reach. It might as well not even have been there.

You were stuck inside, with him.

You didn't even really notice how lucky you were. Given free rein of the house, of course watched by numerous cameras and sensors, and had anything you could ever want to do indoors at your fingertips. "You don't know how good you've got it" Katsuki would always sneer, grimacing as you'd push away his touches, or fight his embraces. "Tons of people would kill to be where you are right now."

His words unlike his quirk were always like ice, frustration welling inside of him as he began to anger more and more day by day. He didn't want to wait, he couldn't wait. He wanted you to accept him. What more could he do? Your favorite food was there, you had anything you needed to supplement your hobbies, plenty of vitamins and-

vitamins of course that you weren't taking. He didn't know that.

He did now.

The lack of natural sunlight on your skin might have done it; it could've just been a common cold. It didn't matter. He looked over as you bundled up on the couch, hair in a messy bun as you sniffled. He chuckled, tissues littering the floor around you as water and ginger ale bottles and cans decorated the small living room coffee table in front of you. You could barely keep your eyes open enough to watch the show.

He was surprised when your eyes locked with his. They were teary, and slightly red as if they'd been rubbed too much. Your hands slunk out from the bundles of blankets, outreached towards him. Your throat was sore as you silently begged him to comfort you.

You needed someone.

He paused, looking at you for a second before he smirked. "Why should I come over there and help you? You're such an ungrateful brat. This seems like karma to me."

You felt a piercing pain sink through your chest, the same chest that heaved with heavy laborious breaths. "Please..." you said softly, "I can't- I-" you choked, coughs interrupting your speech. You put your head down, hands sinking back under the blankets as they wrapped around you.

You felt horrible. All you wanted was help- all you needed was him.

You felt the tears slip from your eyes as you began to silently weep. Your body trembled slightly, partly from the illness and partly from the hurt. You couldn't speak further. You could feel a shift in the room- as if Katsuki had left the room.

You could feel your head grow dizzy as you tried to console yourself. It wasn't long however before a strong muscled hand sank under your chin.

The blonde haired pro hero pulled your head up to face him, you felt the couch cushions soften around the back of your head. You sniffled, letting his thumb wipe away the tears.

"Stop all that now, I'm here," he said, sucking his teeth before he pressed a medicine bottle to your lips. It was unlabeled, like all the medicine in the house. Simply a safety precaution to keep you from hurting yourself. You drank a bit before he pulled it away, grabbing a can of ginger ale to help you wash down the slightly bitter taste.

He gently climbed onto the couch beside you, pulling you into his embrace. It was warm. You questioned why you'd ever denied it before. Stop, you're letting him win. You can't keep doing this. You snuggled into his chest, ignoring the thoughts in your mind. He's only getting what he wanted, you're giving him what he wants! You drowned out all your second thoughts, listening to his soothing voice.

"There's a good girl, relaxing right where you should, with me."

"My pretty baby is gonna be all right"

"There there my love."

You felt a kiss on your forehead as you began to drift off.

His baby, his. You're all his.

like this story? follow me for more!

come join my coming back party! (most events reopened!)

comission me here! (discount szn!)

join my current favorite discord!

[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.”

♡ INSPO

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

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

[metranart]

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—” 

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—” 

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

���You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?” 

 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?” 

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-” 

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?" 

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

giving him a fast and rough handjob that lasts what feels like several hours, he lays on the bed, his thighs squirming and clenching as you bully his sticky cock, he has cum a bazillion times, cum pooling at his thighs and stomach "oh god.. please mommy..i need more...d-d-dont stop!!" he begs and pleads, and you cant help but grin "don't worry babyboy...i wasn't planning on it~"

[aajjks]

tw/ hórny èx bf, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.

He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.

It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.

“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.

His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.

It’s your fault, you know.

It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.

Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.

And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.

Weird.

So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.

First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.

And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.

Oh, so you must be done..

He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.

He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.

And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.

“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.

You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.

You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.

“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.

He needs to touch you right now.

“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.

His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.

He is way too strong for you.

“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.

So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.

You have missed him too.

He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.

You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.

He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.

“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.

Him.

“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.

“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.

That’s how you like it.

His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.

He can kill anyone for you.

“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.

His teeth graze your clit.

“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.

“You can *pants* only cum if you come back to *pants* m-me.”

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

[adabird]

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

[kaine-chan]

Today I offer you some low-budget fake-screenshot anime Ray :D

Seriously what would I give to forget this VN and replay again QoQ Or maybe have some extra's

This masterpiece belongs to @concreteparasite

[lady-ashfade]

All Is Far In Love And Farming

Chapter 1: Getting Started

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

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

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Chapters: Previous // Next

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.5k

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

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

series masterlist

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart broke once you got back to the cabin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

next chapter.

series master list.

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

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

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Christmas Bells

Pairing: Dark 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

SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable. 

WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!

--

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later. 

“One minute!”

Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose. 

Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.

Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.  

Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special. 

Special for him yet a nightmare for you. 

The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.

Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.

Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming. 

Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want. 

You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.

You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.

You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.

You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day. 

You don’t want to-

There’s a harder knock on the door. 

“Hey, you died in there or what?” 

Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down. 

Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door. 

Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session. 

“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so. 

“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.

Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” 

His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side. 

“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-” 

“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think. 

“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s  five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?” 

“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it. 

Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.

Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.

A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case. 

A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…

Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that. 

“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are. 

Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.

“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.” 

“Yeah.” you stiffly reply. 

“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.

A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions? 

“I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain. 

It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours. 

Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered. 

Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep. 

Just a small nap, you sleepily think… 

“Hey, wake the hell up.” 

There’s an annoying tug at your arm. 

“Wake up, it’s time.” 

“Hm?”

Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features. 

Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field. 

“It’s Christmas, already.” 

That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position. 

“Oh.” 

The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.

Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts. 

Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest. 

“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in. 

“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way. 

It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book. 

As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.  

The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.

“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures” 

“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”

You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks. 

“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”

“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”

The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.

Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist. 

All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier. 

Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.

His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one. 

You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.

A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring. 

No. 

Oh God, please no.

All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger. 

“Mrs. Katsuki Bakugo.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.

That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.  

“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.

Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists. 

“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”

His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality. 

He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.

Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-

“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.

“You can fucking give it to me in nine months.” 

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Someone in the League of Villains has been drugging you and doing things to you, and you were going to find out who

Word Count: 6.5k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, dubcon, masochism, sadism, drugging, mentions of exhibitionism/vouyerism

Minors DNI

There was a cockroach on your bedroom floor.

Your bedroom that was technically a small storage room with only a small futon and a lamp.

It was staring at you.

So you stared back, as your tired eyes tried to adjust to the blurry cockroach that sat no more than five inches from your face as you lay in bed.

You felt like you were hit by a truck.

The cockroach glowed in the sunlight that filtered into the room… you were lucky enough to end up with a window at least. Even if the moonlight never did reach far enough into the far corner of the room, leaving your imagination to run rampant in the middle of the night as to what lay within those shadows.

Though, you don’t think your imagination held a light to your reality now.

The room was spinning, you had to keep adjusting your eyes to the disgusting insect in front of you.

You pulled your bedsheet back ever so slightly, your arm broke through the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Slowly you reached your arm out, pointer finger outstretched, and neared the bug. 

You touched it.

Almost immediately the fucking thing scurried, flipped, and chirped over and over again, running rampant all over the floor. Until after what would be an angonizingly long two minutes for the insect, it died.

Each organ shut down one by one, its little body physically unable to function with the amount of pain a single stroke of your finger caused it.

You pulled your arm back into your cocoon and you stared at the dead cockroach.

You don’t remember taking off your gloves last night. That went for the hoodie you always wore to bed… that went for your pants… that went for your underwear.

You also don’t remember drinking anything last night.

But you were hungover.

Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt like you were going to throw up, and everything just fucking hurt. But the general soreness from the hangover didn’t overshadow the burning, throbbing pain that came from between your legs.

Which meant it had happened again.

You felt your eyes watering, burning tears stinging at your tear ducts.

The first time you tried to chalk it up to falling into bad habits again.

Getting black out drunk was no stranger to you. It had always been easier to turn to the bottle than learn how to control your quirk. It dulled your senses, lessened the harm you could inflict, made you forget what it was to be an outcast of society.

It was safer for everyone that way.

But ever since the broker found you, selling you sweet visions of the future. A future you could help fight for by teaming up with the League of Villains. You had fallen hook, line, and sinker. You quit your vices.

But even if you had decided to drink the night away, that didn’t explain the blood and what you could only assume was dried cum that caked the inside of your thighs.

It was even on your face and in your hair.

That’s what had sent you reeling.

No man, woman, animal, or insect could touch you without immediately doubling over to writhe in pain.

So who the fuck managed to put their cock in you.

You had been so caught up in the how that you never stopped to think about the who until now.

You didn’t want to think of the only logical explanation.

One of your comrades was drugging you and raping you in the middle of the night and now that it’s happened twice, there’s no denying it. No more denying what was clearly in front of you no matter how fucking insane or impossible it should have been.

A choked sob clawed at your dry throat.

Joining this ragtag team of villains was the only thing that ever gave you a sense of purpose in your waste of a life. 

You had nothing.

A father that blamed you for your mother’s death. Telling you that all the unending pain you caused her was the reason she put that gun in her mouth. Out on the streets by fifteen, left to mug people with your quirk just to get by. Getting caught by heroes left and right left you with a criminal record. Alcohol had been your only sense of comfort.

You couldn’t leave the League. You can’t go back to that life.

You don’t know how long you laid in bed covered in those dried fluids and waiting for the world to stop spinning, all you knew was that the sun was setting by the time you forced yourself up and your bladder was fucking killing you.

You extracted your naked body from your cocoon, side stepping the dead roach to gather your clothes from last night that were scattered everywhere.

You pulled your thick black hoodie over your head and your black sweatpants up, hiding the blood and cum so that you could properly take care of it in the bathroom. 

You put your gloves on and pulled your hood up and left the room.

~

“She’s alive! No she isn’t!” Was the first thing that greeted you when you had left the bathroom.

”Hey Twice,” you mumbled, trudging past him and to the bar. You sat down.

Sitting hurt.

You barely looked around the room. You didn’t have to see to know that the entirety of the League was hanging out in that bar. These days it seemed you all were just sitting on your asses and twiddling your thumbs, waiting for the opportunity to make a move.

”Would you like a drink?”

You looked up tiredly to Kurogiri who stood behind the bar and shook your head, the amount of sugar in the mocktail you had Kurogiri make for you sometimes would probably make your pounding headache worse, “Water’s fine.”

You folded your arms on the bar counter and buried your face into them.

You didn’t want to be here with any of them right now but going back to your bedroom with those disgusting stains all over your futon also made you sick.

Either way you were trapped.

You didn’t mind the idle chatter from the others though. You could hear Mr. Compress and Spinner talking behind you in the booth. Twice was on the floor with Toga and from the sounds of it was playing around with his quirk and random items from the bar. Kurogiri talked to Shigaraki to your right of the counter and to your left was a normally brooding Dabi.

One of them had raped you.

You heard a ‘clink’ next to your folded arms, and found Kurogiri placing your water in front of you.

”Thanks,” you mumbled, grasping and raising the glass to your dry lips.

You gulped down the water quickly, draining the glass. You were so, extremely dehydrated.

Placing your glass down you looked to the side, only to find Shigaraki staring at you from behind ‘Father’s’ hand.

Shigaraki always fucking stared.

’The fucking virgin just wants to fuck you. Probably wants to see how long he’d last before you make his dick fall off’

That’s what Dabi had told you after watching you shift uncomfortably in your seat under his unwavering gaze your first night there.

You couldn’t deny he was suspect number 1 on your list.

You pulled the drawstrings of your hood, putting your head back down.

”Where were you this morning. We had a meeting.” 

Fuck— now he was talking to you.

”I had a rough morning,” is what you replied with, words muffled by the fabric of your hoodie.

Your heart beat picked up, beginning to hammer in your ribcage as you heard him stand up.

He was moving closer, sitting himself in the seat next to yours.

He had said nothing for a few long beats and the uncomfortable proximity of his body to yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

”Someone was in your room last night.”  

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. 

You slowly peered up at him through your hood, finding Shigaraki watching in sick satisfaction as if he just caught you red handed.

The accusation hung heavily in the air as you tried to find the words. Was he self admitting? Or did he see something? Did he know who it was?

But he continued before you could respond.

”You told us no one could touch you without your quirk activating but you’re fucking all night and missing meetings in the morning. You lied to us.”

“No—“ you blurted, perhaps slightly too loud. You leaned in closer, “I—I don’t— it’s not my fault,” you panicked, “I don’t know what’s happening— I would never lie to you about something like that, please. The League is all I have.”

He eyed you and the tears that brimmed in your eyes. His scrutinizing gaze unwavering from your face as he decided whether or not to believe your words. 

“Fine,” he muttered.

”Do… do you know who it was?” You asked softly, still not completely sure it still wasn’t him to begin with, but if it wasn’t and he did know…

”You don’t know?” He asked, suddenly starting to scratch at his neck.

”No.” you replied, quickly wiping a tear that fell.

He was about to say something when someone cut in.

”Would you just leave the crybaby alone.”

Dabi.

“I’m not a crybaby,” you muttered, finally leaning away from Shigaraki, barely sparing Dabi a glance. 

Shigaraki started scratching with his other hand now, which meant Kurogiri was near, ready to talk him down from whatever ledge he was currently walking on.

”Yeah, sure,” he remarked sarcastically.

You should just go back to your room. You don’t think you can handle talking to someone else that could possibly be violating you.

Unlike Shigaraki, Dabi barely spared you a glance and rarely talked to you. And although he seemed to be more mentally there than some of your other teammates, you wouldn’t put it past him to hurt you.

He still had a cock after all.

Kurogiri refilled your glass.

”Thanks,” you muttered again, taking a sip.

This was too much. Too suffocating. You needed to be alone even if that meant seeing those stains on your bed.

You stood back up, taking your water with you.

”I’m going back to bed.”

With that, you left the room ignoring the stares and the ‘boos’ that followed after you from Toga for leaving so early.

You’d work with them but for now, they couldn’t be your friends.

Not until you found out which of those fuckers had touched you.

-

You isolated yourself after that.

You went through the motions. You did what you were supposed to. You did the quirk training Shigaraki’s master required of you. You went to the meetings. You tried finding new recruits now and then.

But you stopped hanging out with the others and you only spoke to them if it had to do with business with the League.

Toga and Twice seemed to be the most broken up about it, you had been the closest with those two prior to everything.

But the more you were left with your own thoughts the more everyone became a suspect.

Even Toga. She was a shapeshifter and even if it was unlikely, the fact that she even had the ability to transform into the others set you on edge.

And what if Twice was making clones. You knew he didn’t make clones of himself but what if he made that one exception. Or what if he made a clone of one of the others without them knowing and the clone was the one that raped you and Twice killed it after so not even a real person attacked you and you’re just losing your mind in front of everyone and they have no clue as to why-

‘What if, What if, What if’

You were losing your fucking mind.

You weren’t really even sleeping at night, three hours at most. You were too scared someone was going to sneak in. Whoever it was was clearly somewhat resistant to your quirk and your only line of defense you ever relied on was useless.

But you also refused to leave. You had run from every one of your problems your entire life. You weren’t about to do that here. You needed this— a purpose for your life. Hope for a better future.

You needed a plan.

You needed to figure out who was hurting you. How they were drugging you. How they were touching you.

You had just as much of a right to be here as the rest of them and you weren’t going to be trapped in fear.

You just needed a plan.

~

Dabi sat at the end of the bar, off in his own little world, away from the others and their bonding. Away from their talks about nothing that wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. 

It had been another fucking useless day, just a bunch of “villains” sitting around and hanging out.

His own efforts have proven fruitless, everyone out there was trash and finding new recruits was becoming harder and harder to find with each day.

Cyan eyes glanced at the group, some holding careless smiles and laughing, others brooding in their own little minds as well.

They were all there except you.

You hadn’t around them much these days but slowly and surely you had been coming out of your room more and more again. 

It seemed like you were starting to let your guard down again.

But right now you were busy in that old warehouse the League found for you to quirk train. 

Your training in particular was a cruel affair that he’s had the privilege of sitting in on once or twice.

It was more torture than anything else. Trying to see just how much pain you could inflict on unwitting strangers that had been swept off the streets for that reason and that reason alone.

He couldn’t be sure if you enjoyed it or not. Your face always passive and indecipherable in those moments. But you’d do it anyway. You did whatever ‘ol crusty and his master asked of you.

It pissed him off how willingly you followed after that fucking virgin.

It also pissed him off seeing how much Shigaraki enjoyed that.

Dabi sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig of the drink.

You’d be back any minute now and you’d be tired, exhausted even.

Maybe you’d want to have a quick drink with the others before heading to bed.

His jaw tensed at the thought and he drained the rest of his glass.

Or maybe you’d go straight to hiding in your room again. Barely sparing a glance or a few words with anyone.

Fuck.

He may have overdone it last time. 

But the sight of you beneath him, his hands spreading your thighs wide open, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your tight little cunt— each barbell pierced into his cock disappearing and reappearing one by one while you babbled whatever came to your inebriated mind, tits jolting with every thrust— it was too much. And Fuck— the way it hurt, every nerve ending a live fucking wire—

”Hey guys,” you mumbled tiredly.

He didn’t even hear the door open.

The others greeted you as he watched you approach them in his peripherals. Some greetings more animated than others, in Toga’s and Twice’s case specifically.

”How was quirk training!?” Toga asked with a toothy grin.

”Fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the bar next to Compress.

”Would you like a drink?” Kurogiri asked per routine.

”Yeah, surprise me. Just no alcohol,” you nodded, making Toga cheer, happy to see you spending time with them again. “Don’t get too excited. ‘M not staying up for long, I have more quirk training tomorrow morning so I’m going to bed after this one.”

”Aw boo—,” she grumbled. “No fun.”

”Hey, how’s the gun feel by the way?” Spinner asked.

”Still getting the hang of it, but it feels good. Thanks again.”

”Yeah, no problem.”

The conversation shifted as Twice started telling stories of his more adventurous exploits when he was younger. And there was Shigaraki eye fucking you again.

Dabi watched from the corner of his eye as Kurogiri made your drink.

Weeks had passed since that last time he visited you. Kurogiri had made you only four drinks since then.

And Dabi watched patiently as he poured in each ingredient.

But it was tonight that he used the pineapple juice.

You were the only one in the League that drank the pineapple juice.

He watched him place the glass down in front of you. 

He watched you take a sip.

A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth.

From here on out all he needed to do was wait. And Dabi was nothing if not patient. He had to wait for you to finish the drink, wait to hear you tell everyone you were tired and going to bed, and finally wait as each and every member of the League turned in for the night.

Usually by the time he could sneak into your room you were peacefully asleep. Never expecting Dabi to rouse you from your sleep, surprise taking your features every time.

Tonight was no different.

Just like clockwork you were the first to retreat to your room for the night… but not before draining your glass.

Fuck— he was getting excited.

One by one, each of his comrades decided to call it a night.

First Shigaraki and Kurogiri, then Compress, then Toga, Twice, Spinner…

And that made one.

Dabi cleared his throat, choking back the excited giggle that threatened to escape and climbed to his feet.

It had been too fucking long since he’s been able to indulge like this. With not much else to do these days he had been left with his own imagination and hand for too long.

Like a moth to a flame he found himself at your door, silently pushing it open and slipping inside.

His eyes nearly glowed in the dimly lit room as they landed on your curled up figure, laid peacefully on your futon, fast asleep.

Moonlight was the only thing to illuminate the room.

His cock throbbed, it was painfully hard as it had been for almost an hour now, precum smearing his boxers no doubt.

He palmed himself through his pants as he walked towards your peaceful form, pretty face becoming clearer the closer he got and the more his eyes adjusted to the lighting.

Unceremoniously, he collapsed to the floor, sitting down in front of you, no more than five inches from you. He watched your chest rise and fall with each of your breaths.

Carefully, he picked up a lock of hair and tugged.

You stirred but were far too drugged to wake up from the action.

He dropped the lock, fingertips now reaching for your face— your cheekbone, gently brushing them along your warm skin.

His breath hitched, little electrical shocks started in his fingers and danced up the length of his arm.

”Fuck, got my fucking cock throbbing, crybaby” he panted huskily, “Time to open those pretty eyes of yours now,” he said, giving your shoulder a shake.

“Hmm,” you whined.

”Wake up,” he said again, a harder shake this time.

You blinked your eyes open just slightly, before shutting them again.

You gave a confused hum, “Dabi?” You mumbled.

”That’s right crybaby.”

”What’re—why,” you slurred together.

He pushed your shoulder back— you were so pliant that he was able to effortlessly maneuver you onto your back.

You continued to mumble, trying to make sense in your drug addled mind as to why Dabi was in your room. All the while he was climbing onto the mattress and spreading your thighs as he settled between them. He tugged you down slightly, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing his clothed cock against you.

”Miss me crybaby? I’ve sure missed you,” he grinned, grabbing your gloved hand in his own and guiding it towards the tent in his pants, “See.” He exhaled breathily, using your hand to grasp his cock.

You tried opening your eyes again, waking up a bit more.

”Wha’s happenin’” you murmured, fingers wiggling in his hold as you tried shifting beneath him.

He only hummed, saying nothing as he lifted your hand up. He grasped the middle finger of your glove and pulled.

And just like every other time, your eyes shot open.

”No,” you whined.

”Yes,” he hissed back, pulling your glove completely off and discarding it to the side.

”Can’t touch,” you pulled your hand back and he let you cradle it to your chest. Instead shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt off before tossing them with your glove.

”Yes you can,” he grabbed your wrist, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Specifically on the deep purple scars.

Pain radiated from the surface of skin you touched, deep into the tissue. A shockwave of hurt burst from the center of his body, outwards.

His head fell back as a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat.

He ground his cock into you as wave after wave of pain wracked his body.

It was then that your sobs reached his ears.

He dropped your hand but the pain lingered blissfully, though it was dull.

“Fuck.”

The first touch was always the best. 

He grinned as he gazed at your tear stricken face.

”Let’s get you out of this,” he said, tugging your hoodie up.

You struggled but were too weak to stop him, every muscle in your body relaxed from the drugs.

You babbled nonsense, he didn’t even bother to try to make sense of what you were saying, just like every time before. Besides, the blood rushing in his ears was distracting anyway. 

You had no bra on, making his fingers move to the button of your jeans, fumbling with it as he eyed your tits heaving up and down with each of your breaths. He finally yanked them off your legs, along with your panties.

“Why are— does it hurt?” You continued to mumble, “How.”

“Hah—“ A laugh escaped Dabi. Tonight you seemed more concerned about hurting him rather than him stripping you down naked and getting ready to fuck you. “Wanna remember how good I can make you feel?” He asked, fingers now finding your wet cunt, stroking between your folds. That familiar, irresistible pain resumed in his hand as he pet you.

You gasped and wriggled, trying to move up the bed and get away, but the new grip on your hip prevented you from doing so.

Dabi’s head was reeling, pain and pleasure clouded his mind.

You were the only fucking girl that set his nerves ablaze in such a way. If it wasn’t for his vengeance set in a different, higher place he thinks he would never leave the bedroom with you.

Two fingers pressed into your cunt and slid in, making you squeal.

”Dabi no—“ you sobbed, continuing to wriggle in vain. “Why—“

“Shh,” he hushed, “Don’t think, just feel,” his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight little circles into it.

”Stop— I never— I’mma virgin.“

He barked out another laugh.

”You haven’t been a virgin for over a month now crybaby.”

You whimpered and cried, turning your head into your pillow as your voice became higher and higher pitched the longer this went on.

His free hand stroked your body, feeling the curve of your hips and the dip in your waist before gripping your breast. He then dived for the other, latching his lips around your nipple, pain sparking in his lips and tongue and the parts of his chest that brushed against you.

He continued to suck and tug on your nipples as his other hand continued to work you between your legs.

”Why, why, why—“ you cried, “Dabi why.”

”Because you’re mine you fucking idiot— now cum already.” He growled against your breast.

Your back arched as if his voice held any actual authority, and you came. Tears streaking your face with each spasm of your cunt.

When you came back down to earth you were a shivering, sniveling mess.

”See,” he sighed, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

You sniffled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

”None of that,” he pulled the hand from between your legs and cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he smeared your fluids against your face. “No pretending you’re somewhere else. Open your eyes.” You blinked them open slowly, “Good.” He hummed, smacking your cheek lightly and sitting back up.

The pain you inflicted had finally turned into a duller thrum throughout his body. 

Meaning he had to fuck you now for his next fix.

He sucked your sticky wetness from his fingers before undoing his belt then his jeans.

He pulled his cock out, the feeling of it brushing against you making you inch away.

”See that baby?” He grunted, tilting his head back as he stroked his cock and cupped his balls, “You’ve got me so fucking pent up. Makin’ me wait almost an entire month.” He looked back down to you, eyeing you up like an animal. “Ready for my cock crybaby~” he taunted.

The words had fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

”I’ll take that as a yes.”

He tugged you down by the hips, cock nestling between your folds. He gasped out and jolted at the sensation in his cock. 

There was no separation of the pain and pleasure you inflicted on him. It was one. Indivisible. 

And so much better than anyone else could ever offer.

He gripped his cock and lined it up at your entrance, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

His breathing came out hard and laborious, chest rising and falling dramatically as he psyched himself up to push into you.

That initial thrust would have him cumming. It did every time.

Fingers bit into your hips.

“1…” he growled, “2…” he shut his eyes.

”3.” Said the voice behind his ear.

Dabi’s eyes snapped open in time to see the bullet lodge itself between your eyes.

Your dead body turned to sludge, melting beneath him.

His ears rang as the unmistakable feel of a barrel of a gun pressed itself against the back of his head.

You held the gun, standing over Dabi’s kneeling figure.

As the ringing died in both yours and Dabi’s ears, the deafening silence became louder.

Bile crawled up the back of your throat as you looked over his shoulder.

His cock was still hard.

You cocked the gun, the little ‘click’ shattering the silence.

He sighed, shoulders slumping as he pushed his head back, leaning into the gun’s barrel.

”Maybe…” his raspy voice started, “I underestimated you.”

”I could kill you,” you replied coolly, “I should kill you.”

”But you won’t. I’m a pretty big player in all this League of Villains shit and you know that,” he started turning slowly, looking over his shoulder, bathing his profile in a bluish moonlight and illuminating the sick grin he wore, “So what exactly’s the plan then? Huh, crybaby?”

He was taunting you.

You set your jaw tightly and genuinely thought about pulling the trigger.

The nickname made you sick. You thought he was just being an asshole to you in the bar a few weeks ago when he called you that… you wouldn’t have thought it was a twisted little nickname he gave you after assaulting you.

”I want to talk.”

He scoffed, turning around, gazing up at you as he sat leisurely on your futon. He didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back into his pants. “I didn’t come in here to talk.”

”But that’s exactly what’s going to happen asshole or I’m going to tell Shigaraki—“

”He already knows crybaby. He watched.”

You faltered, face completely falling, “He- he what?”

Dabi grinned maliciously at you, “I let him watch last time, especially since you were such a good girl for me the first time I stopped by, taking my cock so well. I figured since he has such a hard time keeping his eyes off you then I’d really give him something to look at.”

“So,” you began shakily, “When he was interrogating me at the bar for missing that meeting—“

”Oh he knew why. He had been jerkin’ it to you the entire night.”

Fuck— tears were starting to collect in your tear ducts.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to hold them back.

You were just so fucking weak. How was it that you found yourself in progressively worse situations your entire life.

Joining these guys was supposed to mean something.

”Why,” you swallowed, gun shaking in your hand, “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”

”I’d argue that we’re more than that now,” the words felt sinister, making you grow sicker by the second, “Do you want to know what the first thing I thought when the broker introduced you?”

You stayed silent, you didn’t want to play into this little game of his.

”I thought ‘now what cruel motherfucker would make someone that looked like you but wasn’t allowed to be touched’? But then,” he leaned back on his hands, nearly presenting his cock to you, “Once I was balls deep in that tight little virgin cunt, and you were shaking and crying in my arms I realized that you were made for me. I am the only man in this world that can fuck you. Your cunt belongs to me.”

Shit, shit, shit

”Don’t feel too bad though. This isn’t a one way street. I’ve never had pussy that’s made me fucking shake before, and that’s all you crybaby. You’re the only one that can offer me the kind of pain and pleasure that makes me forget about every crappy thing in my life.”

He was getting in your fucking head. 

“You’re insane.” You muttered hoarsely, throat suddenly dry, gun shaking even more in your hands.

”Well, what sane man would want you?”

You don’t know what possessed you, the weeks of anxiety? All the pent up anger he had caused?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. You threw the gun across your little room and lunged at Dabi.

He wanted to feel pain? Then you’d show him what actual pain feels like. 

Your inebriated body couldn’t access the full potential of your quirk.

And you hadn’t been quirk training for nothing.

You tackled him to the futon and landed in the muddy remnants of your clone, straddling his waist as you placed both your palms against his bare chest.

Dabi’s hand flew to your wrists as… as a groan left his throat. It wasn’t a scream or a wail, it wasn’t what you expected. And the pinch in his eyebrows was anything but anguish.

His palms were hot but he wasn’t using his quirk to push you away.

You had seen and heard looks of agony and suffering on people more than you’d care to admit, but this was not that.

You pushed against his chest harder, against the deep purple scars and seams of his body, digging your fingers into the stapled flesh and drawing blood.

”Fuck— that’s different,” he groaned out, “Why’s it different.”

”Why aren’t you in more pain,” you snapped, “I’ve made grown men kill themselves after only brushing against my arm just to end their suffering. What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into his face.

He only moaned in response.

Which was when you had realized he had reached down when you weren’t paying attention. He reached between the gap where you had either leg on either side of his body and was fisting his cock. He was jerking himself off while you were hurting him.

A disillusioned laugh escaped your throat, broken and choppy.

This was absurd.

This went against everything you believed about your quirk while growing up.

That your entire identity surrounded the fact that you inflicted pain and everyone and anything would always see you as the villain because of that. You were meant to be avoided and feared, never wanted or desired.

You were losing your goddamned mind.

”You’re a fucking freak,” you suddenly laughed louder at the realization, watching him drag his fist over his cock, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s ladder glinting in the moonlight. “You walk around here all tough and moody, acting like you’re better than everyone else but you’re just as fucking crazy as the rest of them.”

“You’re just as sick,” he choked out with a laugh of his own, “Watching me playing with your clone. You listened to her cry and beg me to stop and you just watched.”

”Shut up,” you hissed. You knew it was wrong, you had promised her you’d stop him before he touched her inappropriately, but when he started you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. 

A twisted part of you wanted to watch and it made you fucking sick.

Just as what you did next made you sick.

You reached down between your legs and grabbed his cock yourself, pushing his own hand away.

He threw his head back, letting out an even louder groan. You could tell this one hurt more than the hand on his chest and it made you smile knowing he was in pain no matter how much pleasure he got from it.

You started jerking him off yourself, listening to his heaving grunts and groans with every stroke of your hand. You paid no mind to the piercings in his cock, if he liked the pain then he could deal with any snagging.

He started tugging on your shirt, pushing it up higher. His hands pawing at your body until one reached your bra, pushing it up to grab your tits.

Your mind felt like it was splitting. You didn’t want him to touch you but you didn’t want to stop him.

But the nail in the coffin was when he tangled a hand in the back of your hair and tugged you down.

He was kissing you.

He tasted like burnt flesh and cigarettes.

His tongue forced itself past your lips and brushed against your own in broad strokes.

You didn’t pull away, you only kissed him back with equal fervor, biting his lips and letting him stick his tongue as far back into your mouth as he wanted to.

You moaned into the kiss, a moan that had been swallowed by his mouth, sending a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He broke the kiss. Glowing cyan eyes boring into yours, “Ride me crybaby.”

You sat up, pulling your hoodie over your head and quickly undoing your bra, throwing them to the side as Dabi pulled at your pants.

You smacked his hands away, standing up to work them down your legs yourself before landing on top of him again.

He hissed at the pain as you touched him with a newly exposed body.

You ignored him, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, adjusting to the size and the feeling of the piercings entering you.

But it wasn’t fast enough for Dabi because he was grabbing at your hips and pulling you down forcefully onto his cock.

You shook and cried out from the pain, collapsing against his chest as you sucked in breath after breath.

But Dabi shook harder from underneath you, pained moans of your name leaving his lips. You watched in curiosity, ignoring your own throbbing pain from between your legs as he started panting, body going slack.

You started laughing, you were pretty sure the fucking freak just came, ”Did you just—?” 

”It’ll get hard again, just start fucking moving,” he grunted, grabbing at your hips.

So you did.

You had no idea what your were doing so you just did whatever felt good, and grinding your clit against his pubic hair felt really good.

The feeling of his cock getting hard inside you again made you dig your fingers into his stapled flesh once more, drawing more blood.

”Shit— ride me better,” he hissed.

”I don’t know how—“

“Shut up,” he spat, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he bent his knees to get some leverage and began to thrust into you from underneath.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You had never felt anything like this before.

The next second he was slipping his arms around your back and switching your positions, slipping out of you but you had barely any time to process it as he slammed back into you as he was now hunched over your body.

You yelped at the brutal pace he set, hips pounding against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and every piercing dragging in and out of you.

Your high pitched, breathy moans mixed with his own deeply pained and pleasured grunts. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and all the lewd wet noises that came with every thrust made you blush deeply.

Next he was yanking your leg up, hooking it over his elbow, allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

You threw your head back, “There,” you breathed out.

You were getting close and Dabi could tell by the clenching and unclenching of your cunt. He snaked a hand down and found your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

“Cum crybaby, show me this cunt belongs to me.”

You fucking hated that nickname. And you hated his entitlement.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, listening to those pained noises that were starting to make your head spin.

He fucked into you even harder.

Everything went white. 

You were cumming and then he was cumming, the two of you shaking in each others arms.

He had slid out with a hiss, collapsing beside you, careful not to touch you.

You stared up at your ceiling, listening to his pants. You turned to look at him.

He really was shaking. 

You reached over and touched his chest, grinning at the now truly pained reaction you got.

He activated his quirk making you hiss and pull away, cradling your now burned hand to your chest.

It was quiet for a few beats.

”Why are you able to touch me?” You finally asked.

”The doctor that put me back together said my pain receptors are fucked.”

”Oh,” that actually… made a lot of sense.

You looked back to him again. Eyeing his profile, following the slope of his nose and the subtle pout of his mouth. You looked at his scars, how the deep purple skin was being held together to his healthy skin by staples. You stared at the swollen seams where the skin was connected.

You were beginning to think he had it wrong.

He was actually made for you.

-

Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)

Deleted Scene

[ketsueki-writes]

Hello! Just stumbled across your page and can't wait to catch up on all your works! So so good 😚

I was hoping to request off of your Play a Game With Me prompt. I'd love to see your idea for "Stop it before I hurt you" for either Hawks or Endeavor and either Light or Dark depending whatever moods you think flows best 🖤🔥✨

and the descent has begun! reminder that I'm opening a lot of old events and you should totally join in on the fun! check em out and send me as many requests as you'd like! i have also stumbled across a nice little roleplay discord! hop on in

WARNINGS:

♡ Keigo

You walked down the street-adjacent sidewalk, your outfit fitting your body nicely as you held your small bag full of goodies in your left hand. You looked back at the winged hero, his eyes trained and focused on you. He needed to be near you. He was your hero, your protector. Of course, soon you'd be his, in his home- but now was not the right time. You didn't even notice how protective- how possessive his feelings towards you have become. To you, the two of you were friends-

to him, you were friends- for now.

You were surprised not even sure you heard him right when he said he was taking you out. It was such a quick and decided declaration, it felt strange coming from the naturally nonchalant hero. It didn't bother you and you accepted it with a joyful glee. The two of you went out, Keigo even hired security to keep his lovestruck fans at bay. He wanted you to know all of his attention was focused on you.

It wasn't long however before you noticed Snipe on his patrol.

Your eyes lit up, you'd always been a fan, especially after his recent breakthrough saving in the news. He brought in a ton of good press which landed him on everyone's radar and in everyone's good favor.

And he was heading right towards you.

You looked up at him, stopping right in front of him. You smiled as you looked into his eyes. "I'm such a big fan of yours" you managed to blurt out, receiving a slight chuckle from him. "I'm starting to become one of yours, may we take a picture?" he responded. You felt your cheeks go red, slightly flustered from his flirty response as you moved to grab your phone.

His hand slipped onto your waist as you turned, pressing your back to his chest as you lifted your phone to get a selfie. You caught a glimpse of Keigo's stare- his glare.

His eyes narrowed on the two of you as Snipe's hand held you gently but firmly. You quickly looked up at the camera, smiling wide as you snapped a photo. You turned, facing the hero again as you took a step back from him. You felt a bit of surprise when your back crashed right into the winged hero's chest. You gasped a bit, laughing it off. You didn't expect him to be so close. You began to talk to Snipe, brushing it off before you felt Keigo's palm pressed against your back.

"Cut it out, stop flirting," he said, his voice husky in your ear as he spoke. You cleared your throat, caught off guard slightly as you went back to your convo before the hand on your back snaked up to the nape of your neck. You felt a firm hold against you as his voice- now more threatening than before- sounded into your ear again.

"Stop it before I hurt you."

You froze. Quickly making up an excuse to Snipe, you walk past him, leaving him in a slight bit of shock. Keigo moved with you, walking directly behind you as the two of you walked off. Once you both were a good distance away he released you, sliding his hands back into his pockets. "Good girl," he said, moving to stand by your side. You felt his arm wrap around you. You couldn't quite process everything that you were feeling, but what you did know was that at this moment,

you were all his, helpless to him. You even heard his whisper in your ear

"You're all mine."

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, kidnapped hostage reader, prior punishment

♡ GN reader

Thinking about really nonchalant darlings…

Your name is yelled from the bedroom upstairs, shrill and panicked, and yet you stay put—groggy-eyed while pouring yourself a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking it’s way too early to be screaming.

The loud steps come second—thundering down the stairs in an angry rush.

Meanwhile, you lean against the kitchen counter and take a slow sip of your mug, awaiting the storm.

He rounds the corner like a livid search dog, nearly slipping at the harsh turn—out of breath, face warped, crazy eyes needing to do a double take before landing on you—stopping dead in his tracks like it was the last place he expected to find you. 

“Mornin'. You look tense…” you drawl, staring back at him over the top of your cup while taking another sip. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed again?”

Bedhead, in his boxers, he looks at you like you’re the crazy one.

“What? D’you think I ran away again?” You sneer, chuckling dryly as he calms his strained breaths. “Jeez, have some faith. I’m not exactly itchin’ to relive what you did last time.”

He sighs, and his whole muscle-swole upper body sinks with relief, nearly glittering in the ceiling light, glossed in a thin sheen of cold sweat. It’s a real shame he’s a crazy kidnapper, or you’d be all over that willingly.

“You’re not supposed to leave the bed,” he mutters, dragging his hands through his hair in an effort to ground himself again—having been a hairpin trigger away from blowing a fuse.

“You’ gonna punish me for makin’ you coffee?” You scoff, handing him a matching coffee cup.

He doesn’t take it, even though you’d poured it for him and everything. Still looking frazzled, joined by puzzlement at your strange behavior, eyeing the offering with furrowed brows that quickly become suspicious of its contents.

“Oh, come on.” You take a sip from it yourself, proving you hadn’t done anything funny to it while rolling your eyes at him. “I’m just tryin’ to play along.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren, Levi, Zeke ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi

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

[lolita-lollipop]

Red

You, a mere farm girl, has found herself living a nightmare after hearing countless town rumors of a barbarian society moving west. A quiet girl in a quiet town is faced with many shocking discoveries in a matter of two days.

the day was hot, miserably so. the sun beating down on your bare back with an unrelenting warmth, making your work twenty times harder. The sun even warmed up the dirt and stone lying underneath your bare feet, working the fields barefoot was already hard enough, the burning sensation under your feet made it no easier.

You couldn't remember the last time you had water, or any form of nutrition. They didn't bother feeding the "low class" likes of you anymore, field and cattle workers, endlessly working for the sake of producing cash crops and cattle for the village. It wasn't slavery, they couldn't call it slavery as it had been outlawed for years now in this kingdom. Even so, you were paid dirt and were treated as slaves always had been.

you worked and worked and worked night and day, in every season of the year for the "sake of the village" they would say, you among a small group of farm workers lived in a small barn out back, with no insulation or form of bathroom. you shared one room between sixteen workers a small space not fit for even two.

Every day, all day, you would find yourself in a similar situation to this one, in a small sack of a dress covered in dirt, knees on the ground with your hands enveloped completely in dirt either pulling weeds from the ground or planting small seeds for potatoes or carrots or the occasional beet, with the hot sun beating down on your back, heaving and panting. just like you always did, you dug through the soil, pulling out weeds, your bare feet digging into the dirt behind you, burning with the heat of the sun. you were humming an old lullaby your mother used to sing before she died, peacefully doing your work no matter how hot and miserable you should be.

your humming came to a halt when you heard a burst of girly young giggles echo through the field off in the distance, the village girls. They would sometimes come out here for fun, either to make fun of the workers or to run around the fields, the owners didn't care so neither did you, if the rich kids liked the farm than so did their parents, meaning more money for everybody but you. You found yourself envious of their freedom in life. They didn't have to work, not like you did. You were about the same age, yet they were dressed in pretty sundresses with bows in their hair, while you were reduced to something akin to a potato sack, hair tied back in plain looking ponytail, they were plump and round and beautiful while you stayed frail and skinny and sickly looking.

You found yourself staring at them, hidden among the plants and crops, unseen by their unfocused eyes, it was easy to just drift off, to imagine yourself giggling with them, being part of their group, gossiping about the town rumors. It was a nice thought. unachievable, but nice.

"Did you hear about that foreighn kingdom conquering west?" they giggled to each other, clearly not noticing you tucked behind the corn rows. You had yet to hear anything about any foreign kingdom, then again you were fairly uninformed, your only news coming from your colleagues or your boss, who spoke to you once or twice a month. The two other girls let out false-sounding gasps, intrigued.

"I know right? My father speaks about the towns they've conquered. Apparently, it's brutal, they leave no survivors and burn the fields and town. " The girl's giggles became hushed and quiet as she went on, listening intently with wide eyes, you sat behind the plants. They were smiling as she said all of this, wasn't this supposed to be sad, be awful? how could they laugh at the destruction of so many towns? So many lives?

"My mother has been talking about the same things! Apparently, a couple survivors tried to come into town, and the guards sent them packing though. Good thing too, they looked dirty. dirt belongs in the field, not in a home." she brought her hand to her lips and let out a giggle, the rest followed suit while you stared. You couldn't tell if they were being serious, they lived ina different world, that much was obvious.

"Ive heard stories! How they kill the women and children in front of their families, burn down homes and villages, apparently their leader is the worst of them. The biggest and strongest and meanest" she snickered in a disgusting, prissy rich way.

"We dont have to worry of course, they would spare us, father would pay them all the money in the world. Its the low levels who should be worried." They all erupted in giggles at that one, and all looked towards your fellow workers, pointing at their clothes and matted hair and dirty hands. You were apart of the "low levels" as they had said, you hated that. And you hated these girls for making you feel less than them just for not being born with a roof over your head.

You scowled at them, now hating them with all of your energy. Maybe it was best that you stayed away from them, it makes sense why you aren't part of their clique, why you never would be part of their clique. Fuck them, and their high-class prissy fathers. You let out a sigh and tried to back up, wanting to disappear among the plants, accidentally cracking a stick with your bare foot and letting a hiss. All of their heads snapped towards your hidden spot.

"Who's there?" The snooty one with the high pitched nasally voice screeched out. You slapped your hand over your mouth, inching back as fast as you could without making noise, the owners of the farm would beat you if they knew you were eavesdropping on the high class girls.

"Its probably one of those workers" the other hissed, poison laced in her tone.

"Come out freak! you like listening on our conversation?" You ran as they yelled for you, abandoning your seeds and work. Their taunts followed you, however eventually their voices quieted and you were left with the shocking information that a foreign barbarian kingdom was migrating west. You were west, and so was your village. They were moving towards you, especially if the survivors from a raid were close enough to walk on foot to your village, they had to be close.

By the time the sun went down and all the workers were in the servants quarters you were able to ask your questions, the younger workers knew nothing, but the elderly and middle aged were willing to tell the stories from their younger times of the war. You had never taken a history class, or any class at all for that matter so you had no clue about anything they would say, you hadn't even known that there was a war.

They were foreigners who lived among the trees and the mountains, known for brutal manslaughter, they weren't human, that much a clear. They were giant apparently, after and stronger and larger,ith predatory instincts and habits, they were like animals. . They even lived longer. The eldest of the women here had been in one of the village raids all those years ago, they killed her entire family while she was hiding in the closet, then burned her house down, leaving her with burn scars all over her body. They told stories of torture and theft and assault, and the worst part about it was that they had no motive other than bloodlust, they looted homes, but they never demanded money or women or crops. Nobody knew what they wanted, they never told the towns their demands, they would just come and go, leaving fire and death in their dust.

The fact that they were approaching closer and closer as the days ticked by, left you shaking.

Mentions of their brutal leader left you even more fearful, as he preyed on the weak. Tearing out the throats of innocents and ignoring pleas or cries for help. You were weak. Like all those he has killed.

You went to sleep that night hoping that it was all just rumors, silly townsfolk gossip that the girls made up to fill the boredom and free time.

needless to say, you didn't sleep much that night.

---

When you woke up,the quarters were empty, you shared a bed with four other people, so waking up without the company of another was quite jarring. At first, you jolted out of bed, terrified of missing the morning work, knowing it would surely receive you a beating. However the others would wake you up if you had not arisen with the rest, and it was still quite dark outside, so that simply hadn't made any sense. looking around, the room was in a state of disarray, the beds oddly moved around, the thin blankets strewn about, and the little belongings that all of you had were either gone or thrown around the room. What had happened while you were asleep, and more importantly, how had you slept through it?

then, the smell of smoke hit you.

Thick and heavy it brought bile to your throat, this wasn't a forest fire or campfire, this wasn't something where empty air was burning, this smelled like meat, like flesh and bone being burned. you gagged, covering your mouth and nose with the thin fabric of the blanket. you stumbled out the creaky door of your quarters, coughing and trying to block the smell out, but were halted in your tracks.

Fire. Fire everywhere. The farm, the house, even the forest around. The only thing left untouched was the animal barn, thank god. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of acres of land ablaze, weeks and weeks of work lit with slivers of red and yellow light. The warmth radiating off of it burned your face. were you dreaming? this must be some form of a dream.

dream or not, you were in danger.

Once you were able to get over the initial shock of your home being literally lit on fire, you tried to tune into any other noises than the crackling sound of flames. Anything to hint where you should go, where you should run. You had never left this farm, your mother was a slave here before it was outlawed, and you were born into the work, forbidden to leave. Not once had you stepped foot into town, and you certainly have never left the town. You didn't know where to go.

Then you heard it, the screams. people, so many people screaming, you didn't know where to go, but it would be in the opposite direction of wherever that was, whatever was making that noise. So, with a very impulsive decision you ran away from the screams, into the direction of an empty winding dirt road, you tried to think logically, if you could find someone then you could follow them and figure out where to go.

The quiet running was harsh on your bare feet, sprinting down the empty dirt road as quietly as you could was not easy for somebody medically unwell and malnourished. However, there would be much time later to sulk over achy bones and pained feet. Was there anybody even here? you could still smell the stench, although it was getting softer. However, you still clutched the cotton blanket in your hand. Your pace slowed as exhaustion kicked in, and to your luck, you heard voices. Not quiet and soft like the ones you were used to, loud and boisterous. men.

you found yourself frozen on the trail, listening in on the conversation as best as you could you inched to the side of the road, trying to hide among the trees. They looked strange, not dressed all properly like the owner of the farm or the village girls you had seen. Their clothes were woven in a precise ay you had never seen before, jewels and beads hung from their hair and necks, chests bare and blood splattered.The more you stared, the weirder and weirder they looked, too large, too muscular, their voices too harsh. inhuman sounding.

"The towns already a fucking gonor, chief said to wait to set the forest on fire till he was done in the homes" One of the Men laughed out with a menacing cackle, his shoulders shaking, the others seemed too happy, too excited to be starting fires. They were up to this.

"Those guards were a riot though. All tough until they realized we weren't going down "Please spare me!" and "We'll let you in we swear!"" the other mocked in a high-pitched voice. They laughed along as they mocked the guards of your town. As they walked down the road, getting closer and closer to you by the second, you were now able to see blood all over them, splattered on their strange clothing. Your breath hitched as they passed you, still hiding in the bushes by the side of the road.

Thank god they hadn't seen you, whoever they were, they clearly would not do you well. Two giant men conversing about arson and the death of the town guards were not anybody you wanted to mess with.

wait.

The realization hit you like a brick. These were the foreign raiders from the east. How were you so stupid, how had you let yourself forget in the span of a couple hours? They were tearing your town apart just like the others before. That's why your farm was ablaze. Thats why your Coworkers were gone. Thats why you heard screaming.

Your breath hitched as a couple tears left your eyes, you clutched the blanket in your hand, oh god, your town was going to be one of many trampled and raided beyond repair. your knees began to quiver along with your hands, you were a gonor. you had to run. now.

Stumbling back from the shock of the realization, you turned to quietly make your way further down the road, away from the town, away from those men. They were far enough that they wouldn't hear your quiet footsteps, you were sure of it. So you held your breath and pulled away from the tree, staying in the dark.

However, while your footsteps were quiet as a mouse, the same white blanket that had brought you comfort just moments ago had doomed you, when you had maneuvered away so focused on the quietness of your footsteps, you had failed to notice that delicate cotton blanket had gotten snagged on a tree branch. pulling away from you and causing a loud snap in the branches. Your breath hitched as you stared at the tree with wide eyes, stumbling back and letting the blanket free from your hand. You sent a glance at the two men who had been meters away, praying for their hearing to be weaker than their muscles.

They were instead, standing feet away from you, staring directly at you.

A whimper escaped your lips as you backed away in fear, turning on your heel and making a move to run directly backwards. Not before the taller of the two could reach out and grab the collar of the sack you called a dress, yanking you back and knocking the wind out of you. before you knew it you were lifted off the ground with one arm by the collar of your dress, staring in terror as the eight foot tall man in front of you looked down with excited eyes. He flashed a smile with all too sharp teeth, sending you sprialing into endless fear.

The other said something in what sounded like a foreign language, not something you would ever understand. Before you could move, the larger of the two bendy down and smelled the air right next to you, with that his smile dropped and the two locked eyes. Some kind of realization hit them as well, while you remained unknowing and absolutely terrified.

"well, looks like we missed one, didnt we?" he questioned with a deep voice, the fear alone sent your heart into a free fall, beating out of control. you couldn't breathe, your lungs pulsing in and out against your will as panic flooded them. spots clouded yourision as the man continued to say something, and with one breath you felt your consciousness slip out from under your feet.

---

you woke up lying on the hard feeling of cement stones, the stench from the fire before worse than you had ever smelled it, sending you into a fit of coughs. Squinting your eyes open, you were able to see small cottage-like buildings, you were in the village, weren't you? You were in the square judging by the large open space of square stones. with heavy eyelids you tried to unblur your vision, and as you did, you found that cold sense of panic enveloping your bloodstream yet again. red, red everywhere. you were sitting in a puddle of it.

Silently freaking out, you pushed yourself up with weak limbs, trying your best to stand, you couldn't remember what had happened, but you were still alive, that's what was important. looking around none of those men were near, but the fires were. should you even bother running? would they come back and catch you. there was blood soaked through your dress, your head ached, and you found your bare feet wet with the blood of the townsfolk.

you found yourself dry heaving due to the stench, tears escaping your eyes, all while stumbling around the square in the meantime. your attention was immediately drawn to the high pitched screaming of what sounded to be a girl. finding the sound with your eyes, it was one of the girls from the farm, white bow still tied in her hair. She was lying on the ground, a pool of blood lying at where her head had met the stone just moments ago, her hands were up above her head in a shield-like motion.

"Please! Please! I can pay you anything you want! Money and jewels or crops I swear I am no commoner! I just need my father! Please!" she screamed up, your eyes panned up from the girl lying on the ground to a man. not just a man, a giant. at least ten feet tall with arms a width larger than your head, he had icy hair that seemed to stick out in every direction like an explosion, and eyes. oh god. his eyes were red as the blood surrounding him, piercing and raging more so than anything you had ever seen. He was looking down at her like she was a bug ready to be squashed, with such hatred that you could swear he had a personal vendetta.

This was him, this was the infamous leader that was ever-so talked about. and he exceeded expectations, this man was a walking nightmare, fear itself packed into ten feet of muscle and blonde hair. You hadn't even realized his plans until his foot came down on her head, and with a crunch, the screaming came to an abrupt halt.

For the third time in two days, you found yourself frozen, staring at somebody you would never dare to talk to. And for the third time,they were staring right back at you.

The giant man flicked his boot as red splattered on the ground next to him, all while still staring at you, he let the girl's wrist go, and dropped her body to the ground with a thump. he made slow strides to a frozen little you, each step sending shivers down your spine, as you stumbled back, finally able to move, he was already inches in front of you, leaning over to be face to face.

You didn't bother running, learning from your mistakes that running results in nothing and you still get caught. Instead, you met his eyes for a moment, finding something else deep down. He was leaned over, bent down on one knee, inches away from your face. this was it, you give up. you're dead.

you squinted your eyes closed, deciding it would be best not to look as you met your inevitable death, face to face with the grim reaper himself, you chose not to stare him in the eye. peacefully accepting your fate. You waited for impact, waited to feel something hit you over the head or knock your kneecaps out. You waited for something, anything to end your miserable existence.

but it never came.

your hands quivering, your heart pittering in your chest at five hundred beats per minute. tears running freely down your cheeks, catching dirt and blood on the way down. A hand gently met your face, cupping your cheek, You peeled your eyes open to meet his own piercing crimson globes.

And to your surprise, the man smiled. not like the smile the others gave you, not like a predator bearing its teeth, but a genuine smile, one that you had only ever seen worn by your mother.

"Pretty" he grumbled out, an accent hanging over his voice. it was deep and gravelly and powerful. his giant hand came up to touch your cheek and wipe your tears away, wiping dirt and blood off with his fingertips. This hands could crush your neck with ease if he wanted to, but he wont. Why wont he?

"Why are you doing this?" you sobbed out, finding every last ounce of fight left in you to pull back from his touch and defiantly meeting his crimson gaze once more. your breathing shallow, you felt at risk of feinting once more. He tilted his head with a questioning grunt, and you decided to play your luck once more.

"Why do you raid my village, what have you to gain? You sobbed in his face and his smile shifted and morphed slowly into a frown, he cocked his head even further, his face twisting up into confusion.

"This is not a raid, we do not raid. were not cruel. " His gruff voice continued to send shivers down your spine, yet his words let rage flow through your bones. hundreds dead, maybe thousands, all of your friends, and family even, probably also dead. and this "wasn't a raid" according to him. you couldn't find it in yourself to care that he was twice your height, and quadruple your strength, you wanted to hit him so hard that he would feel it for days, even if it meant breaking your wrist.

"Theyre all dead, why? We have done nothing." You couldn't believe you were talking to one of them right now, you could barely believe that you had the courage to even muster a word, let alone a whole conversation. His hand found your waist, the other touching your face once more. What the hell was happening? surrounded by blood and death and this man, no, this thing was touching youso lovingly. the shivering of your hands threatened to come back again as you held his gaze.

"We look for our mates, and we prove that we are strong enough to be worth your time." The second the words left his mouth youwere once again reminded that he was anything but a human, they were creatures of nature, you'd seen squirells and horses and cows find mates, never humans. but you were stupid to think he was even remotely close to a human. the words had your face twisting in distress, and you stumbling back, your consciousness threatening to slip from under you once more.

"mates?" you questioned, voice wavering with uncertainty. this could not be happening, you could not be talking about love surrounded by bodies on top of bodies in a burning town with a man who wasn't really a man and instead a foreign alien like giant creature.

"mates,

you."

and with those words your eyes rolled back into your skull and your consciousness slipped through the cracks of the stone, you fell forward and the man was glad to catch you. standing up with you in his arms was a triumphant moment for him, finding his mate as a real, as a king was a monumentous occasion. you were his, undeniably his. he had finally found you.

katsuki bakugou had finally found his mate.

[delulustateofmind]

This is your home!

TW: Yandere behaviors, Kidnapped-ish Reader, Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, Older man x College student! Reader, Toxic relationship, Drugging, trapping. Gn! Reader

Wc: 1.3k

It seems like only a year ago you attempted to break up with your partner.

No—my deepest apologies—you tried to break up with your partner.

You see, he was the kind of lover who made you feel trapped. A man a few years older than you, with a stable job and a steady income, who somehow managed to fall for a mere college student.

That should have been your first red flag.

He begged you to move in, claiming your co-ed dorms weren’t exactly the safest. Did you really enjoy sharing a shower room with strangers? Was that the kind of life you wanted?

So, of course, you followed the hand that fed you. You were young, naive, and far too eager to believe in happily-ever-afters.

You moved in—why wouldn’t you? He was handsome, older, and confident, and his apartment was immaculate, with matching furniture. A dream for any broke college student.

He made space for you. A little nook for your “silly toys,” he’d tease, smiling warmly over his shoulder. He even set up a desk for you in his office so you could “spend more time together.” That is, until you spent that time playing video games instead of working on your finals.

He’d always find a way to scold you for it.

And then he started paying for your tuition.

At first, you refused—it was too much, and you had scholarships to rely on. But those scholarships suddenly disappeared. The donor funding your education pulled out, no explanation given.

So he stepped in. Your dutiful boyfriend.

He even showed you a spreadsheet, breaking down the mountain of debt you’d accumulate if you didn’t let him help. What choice did you have?

You felt bought out.

You felt like you’d sold yourself.

Desperate to regain some independence, you took up a part-time job. But even that became a problem. “I have money, let me take care of you,” he’d say, exasperated. Or worse: “Why are you working so hard when I’m here to make life easier for you?”

Still, you pushed back. For a little while, at least.

Until the day they let you go—just like that.

These strange occurrences… they made you overthink—his words, not yours—as you sat across from him at the café.

Your hands trembled as you raised the coffee cup to your lips, the warmth doing little to steady your nerves.

“Let’s break up,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced away from his piercing gaze.

You caught the flicker of heartbreak in his beautiful eyes, a pain so raw it almost made you falter.

“I’m the problem, not you,” you continued, your words wavering like the hand that held your cup. “I just… I just need to get my life together.”

For a moment, there was only silence. The bustling café around you felt muted, like the world was holding its breath. His gaze remained fixed on you, unblinking, unwavering.

“That’s not fair,” he finally said, his voice calm, but there was a tension in it—a barely restrained crack.

Your chest tightened as you stared into the dark swirls of your coffee, avoiding the weight of his eyes. “It’s for the best,” you murmured.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, fingers threading together as if he were holding himself together. “For the best? For who? You?” His tone was soft, coaxing, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.

You nodded, though the motion felt hollow.

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “You’re not making sense. You say you need to get your life together, but I’m right here. I’ve always been here. Isn’t that enough?”

It wasn’t enough. That was the problem.

You swallowed hard, daring a glance at him. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line. Those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes of his—once so warm—now felt like they were cutting straight through you.

“I need space,” you said, forcing the words out before they could dissolve into cowardice. “I need to figure things out on my own.”

His hand moved across the table, fingers brushing yours. It was a tender gesture, but it felt like a trap. You pulled back instinctively, and his expression darkened, just for a moment.

“Space?” he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “I see.”

But he didn’t. You knew he didn’t.

He wasn’t the kind of man who accepted things like this easily. You could feel it—the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior, the questions he was desperate to ask but refused to voice.

“You’re just… throwing everything away?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “After everything we’ve built together?”

Guilt stabbed at you, sharp and unrelenting. “I’m not throwing it away. I just need to…” You trailed off, searching for the right words, but they evaded you, leaving behind an aching emptiness.

The sound of a plate clattering in the distance made you flinch. He didn’t. He just stared at you, his gaze so intense it felt suffocating.

“Is there someone else?” he asked suddenly, his voice low but steady, like he was bracing himself for the answer.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! It’s not like that.”

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to lie to me. You owe me that much.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted, the desperation in your tone surprising even yourself. “This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about me.”

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

You froze, the words hitting harder than they should have.

“I guess I should’ve seen this coming,” he said, leaning back in his chair once more. His eyes flicked to the window beside you, watching the rain drizzle against the glass. “You always did have one foot out the door.”

The knot in your throat tightened, but you didn’t respond. What could you say?

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the space between you feeling insurmountable.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and stood, tossing a few bills onto the table. “If this is what you want,” he said, his voice void of the warmth it once held, “then I won’t stop you.”

But as he turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. Not really.

You managed to find a new apartment—a cheap, incredibly cheap one. The kind of place where the pipes rattled and the paint on the walls peeled if you so much as looked at it wrong. You had to take out a loan just to secure it, and as you stared at the mountain of paperwork, you felt the weight of your choices pressing down on you.

What had you been doing for the past year? Locked away in some castle. You almost cried just thinking about it.

The move was exhausting. Box after box filled with remnants of a life you didn’t recognize anymore. You left some things behind—things he’d given you, or things you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. It felt like shedding skin, leaving those pieces of yourself in the apartment you once shared.

A month passed in strained silence. You hadn’t heard from him, but you felt his presence everywhere. The way your phone seemed heavier in your pocket. The way every knock on the door made your heart jump. You told yourself it was paranoia, that he’d moved on.

Until one day, your phone lit up with a call.

His name stared back at you, bold and glaring.

You froze. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The phone rang once. Then twice. Then thrice.

You didn’t answer.

When it finally stopped, the voicemail icon appeared, along with a text. You hesitated before opening it, your breath catching as you read the message.

"Can we talk?"

That was all it said.

But it wasn’t just the message. Attached to it was a picture.

Your chest tightened as you opened the image.

It was of your desk. Your old desk. The one from his office. On it sat your “small little toys”—the ones he used to tease you about. The picture was perfectly framed, almost artistic in its composition.

He still had your things. Of course, he did.

You told yourself you should’ve picked them up by now. That you’d been putting it off because you couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing him again.

But now… now you weren’t sure if going back was an option.

Your phone buzzed again, and you jumped.

Another text:

“You forgot these. They’re waiting for you.”

Something about the message sent a chill down your spine.

Waiting. That word lingered in your mind, heavy and suffocating.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You could just ignore him, pretend you hadn’t seen the message. But deep down, you knew he wouldn’t stop. Not until you answered.

And the worst part?

You weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

You told yourself you were overthinking. The picture, the message—it was just him being thoughtful, wasn’t it? After all, he was a caring guy. Always had been.

You stared at the text again. “They’re waiting for you.”

Your things. That’s all he meant.

Still, you hesitated. The memory of his voice, so calm and steady in the voicemail, echoed in your mind. It wasn’t like him to sound so… subdued. You’d expected anger, bitterness—anything but that gentle request.

Maybe you owed him this much. A chance to talk, to clear the air.

You typed out a quick reply:

“Okay. When?”

His response came almost immediately, as though he’d been waiting for you.

“Tonight. I’ll make dinner.”

Dinner. Of course, he’d turn this into a gesture of kindness. That was just like him—always going the extra mile, always making you feel like you were the center of his world. It had been suffocating at times, sure, but it wasn’t bad. Was it?

The memory of his smile tugged at your mind, warm and genuine, the kind of smile that made you feel like everything would be okay. You wanted to believe in that version of him, even now.

So, that evening, you found yourself standing outside his door. The apartment looked the same as you remembered—pristine, welcoming, like it had been plucked straight from a magazine. You knocked hesitantly, the sound of it feeling too loud in the quiet hallway.

The door opened almost instantly.

He stood there, his face lighting up at the sight of you. “You came,” he said, his voice filled with relief.

“I—yeah. For my stuff,” you replied, shifting awkwardly.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. I just finished cooking.”

The smell of something delicious wafted out, warm and inviting. It made your stomach twist—not from hunger, but from the strange mixture of nostalgia and unease settling in your chest.

You stepped inside, your gaze sweeping over the apartment. It was exactly how you left it. No, that wasn’t right. It was better. Cleaner. More organized. Your things, the ones you’d left behind, were neatly arranged in the same spots they used to occupy.

It was like you’d never left.

“I made your favorite,” he said, leading you to the dining table. The plates were already set, the soft glow of candlelight dancing across the surface. It was the kind of effort he always put in, the kind that used to make you feel special.

But now, it felt… off.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you said, forcing a smile as you sat down.

He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “It’s no trouble. I just want you to feel comfortable.”

Comfortable. That’s what he always said when you’d been upset, when you’d tried to pull away.

The dinner was good—perfect, even. He talked about small things, work, how he’d been keeping busy. He didn’t ask about your new apartment, didn’t press you for details about your life. If anything, he seemed… patient.

When the plates were cleared and the conversation lulled, he stood and gestured toward the office. “Your things are in there. I packed them up for you.”

You followed him, your steps hesitant. The office looked exactly as you remembered it, down to the way your desk was arranged. Your “small little toys” were lined up neatly on the shelf, untouched except for the care he’d taken to clean the dust from them.

“I didn’t want you to feel rushed,” he said softly, watching as you looked over the room. “I know how much these meant to you.”

You glanced back at him, guilt prickling at your chest. He was smiling, that same warm smile that always made you feel safe. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t place.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice quiet.

He nodded, stepping closer. Too close. You could feel the warmth of his presence, the subtle shift in the air as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, almost tender, “you don’t have to go. You can stay here, where it’s safe.”

The words were kind, caring. But they lingered in the air, heavy with implication.

“I can’t,” you said, stepping back. “I—I have to go.”

His hand dropped to his side, his smile faltering for just a moment before it returned, softer, gentler. “Of course,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed hard and turned away, focusing on the task at hand. You quickly grabbed your little trinkets, each one feeling heavier than it should as you set them into the small box he had left out for you. The edges of your vision blurred slightly, and your mind felt strangely… woozy.

“You feeling alright?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, and you could hear the smile in it even though you weren’t looking at him.

“I’m fine,” you said, but your voice sounded far away, almost like it wasn’t yours.

The room seemed to tilt ever so slightly, and you reached out to steady yourself against the desk. The surface felt cool under your fingertips, grounding you just enough to stay upright.

“I don’t know,” he said, stepping closer, his tone a mockery of concern. “You look a little pale.”

Your head turned toward him, but your movements were sluggish. His figure was close now—too close—and his smile, while soft, seemed sharper somehow, like it could cut you if you looked at it the wrong way.

“You’ve been so stressed lately,” he continued, his voice dripping with honeyed care. “All this running around, all this independence... It’s no wonder you’re not feeling well.”

“I just need to—” You stopped, the words slipping from your mind as quickly as they’d formed.

“Shh,” he murmured, reaching out to steady you, his hands gentle as they guided you back against the desk. “It’s okay. Let me take care of you.”

“I—” You tried to pull away, but your body wasn’t cooperating. Your legs felt like lead, your arms heavy and limp.

“There we go,” he whispered, his voice almost soothing as he adjusted his grip, cradling you like you might break. “Let’s get you back to where you belong.”

The words sank into you like cold water, and your heart pounded in your chest. “I don’t—”

But your voice was weak, and the edges of your vision darkened as your knees gave way.

He caught you, of course. He always did. His arms were steady, strong, and terrifyingly familiar as you seemed to melt into them.

“You’ll see,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple as the darkness closed in. “This is for the best. You’ll understand soon enough.”

The last thing you heard was the faint click of the lock turning.

When you woke up, it was in a bed you knew well—his bed. The familiar scent of expensive lavender laundry detergent and faint cologne clung to the sheets, grounding you in a way that made your head spin.

Your body felt heavy, but there was no immediate pain. Just a dull, aching tiredness, like you’d slept too long.

The soft shuffle of footsteps drew your attention, and he appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of food. His face lit up when he saw you were awake.

“There you are,” he said, his voice warm and soothing. “I was starting to worry.”

You blinked at him, your mind foggy. “What… happened?”

“You fainted,” he explained, setting the tray down on the nightstand. “I knew you weren’t feeling well, but I didn’t think it was this bad. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“I need to go home,” you murmured, though the words felt weak, half-hearted.

He crouched beside the bed, his hand reaching out to brush the hair from your face. “You’re not going anywhere until you’re better,” he said softly, but there was an edge of finality in his tone. “I can’t let you hurt yourself like this.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sincerity in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He wasn’t angry—far from it. He looked… concerned. Genuinely so.

“I made another one of your favorites,” he said, gesturing to the tray. “You need to eat something. Please.”

And somehow, you did.

The first week passed in a haze. He was always there, tending to you with quiet patience and a gentle touch. He cooked your meals, brought you tea, even read to you when you were too tired to focus on your own.

When you’d ask to leave, he’d smile, tilting his head like you’d just said something silly. “Why would you want to leave when you’re safe here?” he’d ask, his tone light, affectionate. “This is your home.”

At first, you resisted. You’d test the locks when he wasn’t looking, search for your phone, try to reason with him. But each time, he’d find you.

And each time, he’d reassure you.

“I know this is hard,” he’d say, holding you close as you fought back tears. “But I promise, I’m doing this because I love you. Because I can’t bear to see you hurt yourself.”

The way he said it—so tenderly, so earnestly—made it harder to argue.

Months passed.

Your protests grew quieter, your attempts to leave less frequent. He never raised his voice, never hurt you. Instead, he smothered you in kindness, his care so unwavering it became impossible to distinguish from love.

He brought you little gifts—books he thought you’d like, your favorite snacks, new clothes in your size. He’d sit with you for hours, talking about everything and nothing, his laughter warm and infectious.

And slowly, bit by bit, you began to feel it: the comfort of his presence, the safety of his arms.

You still thought about leaving sometimes. But every time you’d imagine the cold, lonely world outside, his face would appear in your mind, smiling, reassuring.

“I take care of you,” he’d remind you. “No one else will.”

And part of you started to believe him.

A year later, the apartment felt less like a prison and more like a sanctuary. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You’d stopped counting the days a long time ago. The routine he built for you was too carefully crafted, too comforting in its predictability. Meals prepared before you asked, your favorite books always within reach, even the temperature of the room adjusted to perfection. He knew what you needed before you did.

But tonight, something felt different.

He sat beside you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as always, his fingers idly tracing circles on your arm. The television played softly in the background, though neither of you were paying attention.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. But there was an edge beneath it, subtle but sharp, like a blade hidden beneath silk.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I’m fine,” you replied, offering a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

He tilted his head, his gaze soft but probing. “Thinking about what?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, looking away.

His hand stilled against your arm.

“I hope you’re not thinking about leaving me,” he said, his voice so soft it made your skin crawl.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “I’m not,” you said, too quickly.

He smiled then, that same warm, reassuring smile that had once made you feel safe. But now, it felt like a mask. “Good,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because you know what happens when you try.”

Your stomach twisted, memories flashing through your mind.

The first time you’d tried to escape, you’d woken up hours later, your body weak and trembling, with him at your bedside, his expression one of heartbreak. “You scared me,” he’d said, brushing a hand through your hair. “I can’t lose you. Don’t ever do that again.”

The second time, he hadn’t been so kind. His voice had been cold, his eyes devoid of warmth as he’d pinned you against the wall, his hand gripping your wrist just hard enough to bruise. “I love you,” he’d whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “But if you try to leave me again, I’ll have to show you how much.”

You hadn’t tried since.

Now, as you sat beside him, the weight of his arm around you felt suffocating. You nodded mutely, your hands curling into fists in your lap.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” he said, his voice bright again, as though nothing had happened.

He reached for the remote, turning off the television, and stood. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to you. “Let’s go to bed.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was firm, steady, like an anchor pulling you under.

As he led you to the bedroom, his fingers intertwined with yours, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

The person staring back at you was a stranger—someone small, broken, and unrecognizable.

But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Because as he closed the bedroom door behind you, the lock clicking into place, you knew one thing for certain:

You weren’t going anywhere.

And neither was he.

Characters:

BNHA: Hawks, Dabi, Endeavor

AOT: Erwin, Zeke, Levi

JJK: Gojo, Geto, Nanami...(maybe Yuta...if he was older)

HxH: Chrollo, Illumi, Hisoka

[aajjks]

warnings: 18+ thèmès, YÁNDÈRÈ MÈN, öbsëssïön, ünhëälthy dèvôtïôn, mèntïôns ôf örál, kïssïng, mèntïôns ôf sèx, mèntïôns ôf sùïcídè.

Yandere men who are so in love with you, they are head over heels, who think that you’re a miracle, you’re the love of their life, they adore you, absolutely adore you, who adore your body with theirs. Who kiss you like you’re the air, who fuck you like they want you merge you with them. Who make love to you day and night, kissing you until their lips are swollen, fucking you until their legs give out, eating you out until their jaw breaks, who tell you how much they love you until their throat is bleeding. Who would absolutely kill themselves if you ever left them.

“Oh my yn… you are a miracle- you can’t be real- please please let me fuck you- just one taste… I just can’t get enough of you- you’re like addictive- please I need you so much, don’t ever leave me I’ll die without you.”

Izuku, gojo, yuuta, Luffy, tamaki, Xiao, Geto, Shouto, Nanami.