#yandere shouto todoroki
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jujutsukgojo ¡ 1 month ago
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The less you know, the better 2
the final chapter.
Chapter 1
Shouto Todoroki x reader Summary: Only sixty seconds. tw: yandere, gang implications, angst, escape, ambiguous ending
The hair on your arms stands up. Ever since that night, you see your ‘friends’ everywhere. Just last week on the corner Kyoka was flipping a coin calling heads. She smiled and gave a wave. Usually, you’d talk for hours. This time the warning was there. It grabbed your throat before you could say anything. The gleam in her eyes and a brief knowing smirk haunted you the entire day. You shook your head and took off in the opposite direction. This has happened repeatedly and with different people of your past. None of the interactions are innocent anymore.
Not when everything seems to have a hidden meaning. Their masks have been chipped away and revealed something ugly inside. Even the most innocent ones have shown their true colors. That night when you went to them for help, Izuku, who has always been kind, was vicious—not at all like the friend you knew. Just yesterday, he touched your arm and paid for your food at a vendor. It reminded you of how he used to be before you lifted the veil. 
Because of how fast he switched, Izuku scares you the second most, right after Shouto. Your dear friend, with a sanguine composition and a timid demeanor, has a terribly contradicting facade. The only thing that has remained is how headstrong he is. His smile is fake, you now know. 
However, he doesn’t compare to Shouto. The man who asks you to marry him every chance he gets is a slower agony. The shatter of his glass face hit harder. You had accidentally ripped the veil to shreds and discovered what he really looks like. You witnessed a murder and were subject to his intimidation, yet the punch of reality hadn’t truly hit you until you saw him everywhere. Letters, phone calls, texts, flowers, all of it. It’s like slowly opening a creaking door with false hope for a lit exit only to find a monster behind it. 
All of them are in it. This entire time you thought they were good. Your friends are supposed to be safe . They are his eyes and are everywhere. His power extends more than you realize not just with your friends but people who are supposed to be respectable and noble have a wicked face of deceit and villainy. Who knows who they have hurt or killed just because Shouto said so?
Now you are walking away from your apartment in the dead of night. Naively, you gave all your friends a key to it when you first moved in. It was just out of safety and precaution, of course. Never would you have thought that they’d be sitting on the couch when you get home and tell you that Shouto wants to talk to you and then ask with a fake saccharine face if you have been okay. 
Tonight, no one was there but you can feel them. You know that he has dogs just waiting for you to come out and do God knows what. That chill that runs up your arms and back, settling inside your head to check every corner. Or worse, that cold feeling of eyes watching you attempt to walk away with stiff movements, only to stop you in your tracks and freeze. Luckily, you’re doing that stiff walking thing to the train station.
You packed lightly and kept the TV on if he stakes the place out. You took off out the backdoor of the apartment building as quietly as a mouse and used the alley as a cover. Hopefully, it worked. It wouldn’t surprise you if Shinsou or the retired Aizawa, was lurking around on the roof. Aizawa, is he in it? Could your strict, precise, and logical teacher be in on it? Would Shinsou since he is Aizawa’s protegee? It’s already terrible that Izuku is doing it since he worked directly under Toshinori Yagi. Imagine falling that far from grace. Even Shouto, whose father is Enji Todoroki, shares the same teachers as Izuku does. 
These people could all be wicked. After going to your once-trusted friends that night, your next reaction was to go to people Shouto respected, except for his father, of course. Before you made that decision, you stopped and thought. If they stand with Shouto, they could be worse. For all you know, Shouto might have inherited this.
You board the train with shaking hands and bitten lips. The hoodie can only hide your face so much as you nestle into it, shivering from the cold and anxiety. There aren’t many people here. Just a few stragglers and late-night workers. No one who looks like trouble or bothersome in any way. Some of them are resting their eyes and look exhausted. 
Your pumping heart finally slows down and makes your eyelids droop. After all this stress, it is finally starting to wear you down enough to drift you away in sleep. You open your eyes and stretch your neck. It is still dark out so you haven’t slept that long, thankfully. The likelihood of you missing your stop is fairly slim. You yawn once more.
“Don’t worry, no one messed with your stuff.”
Slowly, your eyes move in his direction. He’s right next to you, perfectly content. Next to you is a broad man with dual-colored hair and a prominent scar on the left side of his face. Even with the large scar that would make people wonder if it still hurts, it doesn’t take away how pretty he is. Not when he looks like he was carved out of the smoothest marble.
“Shouto…” You whisper in disbelief. Looking around, you see not a single soul on the train. “They left a while ago. I was going to wake you up but you looked the most peaceful you’ve been in weeks.” 
Words are caught in your throat and heat is to your cheeks, not from flattery, but shock. Perhaps it has made its way into your bones. Your heart seems to have stopped, shocked stiff from what’s happening. How did you not hear him? How could you not have sensed his presence next to you, feel the intimidation that rolls off of him like steady waves? You might have always been blind to him. The longer you look at him, the more you question why you're speechless. Is it from his sudden appearance or that you rested? It's a scary question since you feel a sort of calmness in his presence.
What should scare you to the grave doesn’t. Instead, you slept beside him and rested, feeling secure. How could you think that way with everything going on? Rather than jumping over him and booking it, you sit. Because you still feel it, just like you did before with him. 
What he does in secret has tainted his image to you completely. However, is it possible that it hasn’t changed what he is to you? 
No. No, he is a killer. A ringleader of God knows what and a stalker. You’re in danger, jeopardy in other terms. 
“Shouto…” You whisper again. He raises his brow. “Hm?” 
He’s acting normal. Completely oblivious to your wobbling lip and shaky breath. No, it’s more likely that he doesn’t care. 
“Please move.” 
Safe, yet scared. Two distinct and conflicting emotions that aren't supposed to coexist.
“Why?”
“I need to leave.”
He frowns. “Where are you going? It’s dark and cold, soba noodle.”
You still are breathless. “I need to go, please.”
He’s still for a minute. “There’s nowhere to run, my love.” His voice is soft and assured. Like he knows what he says is completely true. The implication of how little power you have grinds against you. 
“Please move.” You cannot say anything other than a small mutter, a breathy plea he can hear. Something you hope he can take because that is all you can give. 
He gets up and lets you through. With ragged breaths, you hurry away without your carry-on. It was the only thing you took out of that apartment. You run towards the door and glance back. Shouto remains there looking down with a glum look on his face. Like an idiot, you turn to face him. The look on his face is reminiscent of his high school days. Cold and rejected, yet like a puppy who’s lost and hurt. He hasn’t looked up. It looks like he’s being serious about you getting out. 
Damn him, damn your heart and all of your beloved memories with it. With the palm of your hand, you want to wipe away that sadness that he’s showing, that he thinks you don’t see. Little by little his eyes show a familiar dullness in them. He's slowly gluing blocks of ice that were chipped away years ago. There are no signs of anger or hatred. Only loss.
Although he’s physically matured, you still see the Shouto you knew. He grew into his features that are famously half his mother’s and father’s. Despite that physical growth, you see him. That boy became your friend. One that you grew to love and wanted to spend your life with. If there had been enough time, you would’ve jumped into his arms.
God, you love him and always have. Why did it have to be like this? You hate it all, him, and more than ever, yourself. You shouldn't be so aware of your heart. 
“Tell me why you’re doing this?”
“Out of consideration-”
“No, no, why are you in this life? How did this start? With who? Shouto, you say you want to marry me but that’s a joke now. Joke is fucking over.”
He stands and grips the back of the seat in front of him. “It has never been a joke, (Y/n).”
“It is if you lie like this. It’s become a habit to ask me and nothing more. If you meant it, if you really loved me, you would be an honest man. A man that isn't dangerous.”
Shouto walks over to you in smooth strides. “You have always been and always will be safe with me.”
“You know that’s a lie, Shouto. Look at the way you’re living! All of this is crooked and wrong! You can’t guarantee my safety with you if I’m not safe from you.”
He looks taken back. Shouto is speechless for a minute. He finally gathers what he wants to say and shakes his head. “I will never hurt you. I may live my life my own way, but you’ll never bear a burden.”
Your lips wobble and you slump on a seat. He takes the one opposite from you. “Why do you do this? What happened?” You ask in a low tone, still reeling. 
His smile is kind and soft. “The less you know, the better. My life is mine to bear, (Y/n). When I ask you to marry me, you're not taking it or sharing that part. When I propose, I'm sharing who I am, the one you always knew.”
“The darkness is part of the package. When I marry you, I’m marrying all of you. This life is one I just can’t do.”
“What would change your mind?”
Is he not understanding the words that are coming out of your mouth? “By getting out of this life. It can’t be too late, Sho.” You urge him to reconsider. However it came about, it's not too late for him, right?
He sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t, (Y/n). Please believe me and believe that I love you.”
Has he ever said that before? You can’t remember. “Shouto…”
“I know it’s going to be hard-”
You shake your head. “I can’t-”
“Let me do it for you. Marry me, let’s spend our life together. Dove,” He leans in. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
His earnest eyes are so tempting to fall into. To have faith in what is promised and believe in him. The problem is that he’s practically a stranger now. All of them are! Iida, a noble man who helped anyone; Katsuki, although rough around the edges, was a victor and stood for what’s right; Kyoka, an introverted musical angel with dreams bigger than imagined; and Shouto, a kind hearted man who’s been through the trenches and fought the odds and loved anyway, even though he was a little awkward about it.
That’s all gone now. Everything burned to the ground when you saw him murder someone. Here he is promising you what he’s offered all these years. You can’t trust him. 
“That’s a lie, Shouto. There’s too much red to see any other color. I love you too, Shouto Todoroki. But I don’t trust a single one of you.” The pressure behind your eyes wins. Tears stream down freely. You finally said what you never thought you would. You don't trust him.
He looks struck, heartbroken at the admittance of the loss. You hold his hands in yours. Shouto’s breath is shaky. He kisses your hands. The gesture is so sweet, so delicate. “How did this happen, Shouto?”
He ignores the question again and instead asks, “What will make you happy?” You. If life had been different, it was you, Shouto. 
You chew on your lip. You know what you have to say to get your point across. To show the boundary that you’ve written in the sand. “Freedom, even if for a moment.”
He kisses your hands again. “Ok.”
The heaviness in your chest weighs you down. What should’ve made you jump for joy is tainted by what could have been. The possibility of an innocent and loving life with him. Maybe, the two of you could have had it all. Adventures, struggles, family, passion, and love, who knows now? Life is filled with things to be touched, tasted, and challenged. Shouto might’ve been all of that for you. In this silent moment, you attempt to come to terms with pure and true love, with yourself or not, is somewhere else. In another life, it would have lied with Shouto Todoroki. Something pure and blameless, not covered in blood and screams. 
“Shouto…are you saying you’ll let me go?” There’s a hint of hope in your voice that you pray he doesn’t take offense to. Right now, the two of you are just basking in each other’s presence after the intense conversation. After a heart felt release, you’d hate to break the peace. 
“For one minute and not a second more.”
“What?”
He cradles your face. “This one minute I give you is all you will have. Freedom, even if for a moment.”
You grab his wrist. Your heart is thumping. “Shouto what are you talking abo-”
“Run.” The firmness in his voice gives you chills. What is he talking about though? “For what? What minute are you talking about?”
“I will give you a minute to run away. No matter how far you get, know I will hunt you.”
The air is sucked out of your lungs. He kisses your left hand and focuses on your ring finger with gentle pecks. You still have yet to breathe. Shouto is giving you one minute to run from him before he drags you back in his grasp. His calloused finger caressed your ring finger’s knuckle. 
This can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this. Surely, it’s a mistake! You misheard him and his intentions. The cruelty in his voice isn’t real. He understands that his lifestyle is just not for you. 
“Sho-”
“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight-”
He’s serious. And you have lost two seconds of precious time. You push away and sprint. There is no one in the area to hear Shouto’s countdown. No one is in the street where you are running for your life. Not a single sound is heard other than the sound of your hurried footsteps on the damp street is heard. Suddenly, right as you head, you see familiar faces.
“Forty-two,” Deku counts. Ways past him is Iida who stands on the sidewalk with his head down. “Forty.”
You ditch your jacket. 
“Thirty-five,” Kyoka sings as she emerges from the dark alley next to the bar. The owner quickly flips the sign from open to closed. “Thirty-three,” Ochako, sweet, sweet, Ochako, comes out of a red car with Tsu.
Tears prick your eyes as you see the people you once trusted count down. All of them are waiting for Shouto’s permission to hunt. You will your legs to run faster. 
“Thirty-one,” Someone counts from above. You hear another count to thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight. You turn the corner. There’s no one on the street right now. In the distance, you can hear the count from twenty-six. You need to do something other than run. Find a car and drive off or call for help.
A man sitting on a bench rubs his eyes. “Help-”
“Twenty.” You gasp in horror and abandon the plea for help. The strangers that are along the sidewalks, on the corners, and even coming out of buildings, count. 
Why can’t you have some kind of super speed? The ability to outrun time and space so you can be saved? Your shoes flew off seconds ago, and your jacket is gone, yet you still feel weighed down. 
When the voices begin to harmonize from ten seconds on down, your life flashes before your eyes. Life back then was different. Never would you have thought you would be running from them and from time. 
“Nine!”
Your legs are burning. 
“Eight!”
This can’t be happening. Voices are heard in several directions with each step you take. It’s so constant, they might as well be your feet’s echo. You take a jump from a stair descending to the sidewalk. 
“Seven, six-!”
Your arms pump furiously. The wind blows past you as you force yourself to forget everything and just focus on moving, to completely channel everything out and let yourself run.  
“Five!”
With your mind blank, your legs may actually be going faster to a random location. You don’t know where you’ll go right now. That’s a question for when these seconds are up. 
“Four, three-!”
You’ve run far enough to get away from the subway and to the city. 
“Two!” They’re going to hunt you. Shouto is going to start the hunt in one more second. With a blank mind and your heart pumping, you ignore it all. 
“One!”
If you were paying attention, if your mind was present and in order, you would have heard the bell.
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thot-farm ¡ 5 days ago
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I would shit in his bed while he is busy if i could. Record the door to get audio of him, get the security footage of him walking in with the woman into the house, then post that with a video of the marriage certificate burning on Twitter, I would @ everyone at Endeavor or Shoto's agency, his family, and anyone that went to UA with Shoto on that post, I'd visit his mother just to show her print out of the post. I would plaster those printouts all over the house while he works. I would literally make sure my phone is recording audio when ever he is near to record it and then post it when he says something shitty, but I would wait until I have a stock pile of videos backed up for when he finds out about the posts and starts being careful or takes your phone. If I get sued by the woman, oh well. Shoto and his family probably don't allow you an allowance so Endeavor or Shoto is paying that. And if I was still alive at that point I'd def try to use Touya to get back at Shoto after Touya makes the Todoroki call out video. Obviously fictionally, my oc would do this, real me would totally never do this to a man who cheated, no no... never... :3 ❤️
(This is the type of yandere I hate if you couldn't tell, but it was written well and I was fiending for yandere shoto content ❤️)
Can I please request yandere cheater shoto x fiancĂŠ reader, where shoto cheats on the reader to spite his father. They are in a quirk marriage and shoto hates that despite the reader trying to be the perfect spouse for him as the reader does house chores and prepares his meals only for shoto to neglect them and coldly dismisses them.
Hi! So, thank you very much for your request! I actually had some big problems with the yandere-part, but I hope it still fits somehow.
Like always: English grammar is different than German grammar. Sorry for any mistakes. :)
Perfect FiancĂŠ
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You were the perfect fiancĂŠe...theoretically
A hard day full of work? No problem, you took all the things in the household for him.
A villain injured him? No problem, you knew immediately what helped for fast healing.
Shoto needed support in a battle? No problem, you were one of the best heroes.
Shoto needed love?
…
…
…
Your quirk was incredibly strong and quite adaptable. That was also the reason why Endeavour became aware of you. A few meetings with your parents, a few nice words and the matter was decided: you were to become Shoto's wife. 
You cried so much that day. At that time, you still had a boyfriend: the best of them all. He was perfect, no one knew you better than him. Who would have thought that you would ever have to part with him?
Not because of a fight.
Not because of fading love. 
And also, not because he cheated.
No, it was because of the decision of higher powers. 
But you were a positive person. 
Make the most of it! Maybe he's quite nice?
Scratch that!
He's the coldest person you know – but you have to get along with him... for your entire life. 
No matter how hard you tried to make life more comfortable for both of you, everything left him cold. You also had the feeling that he hated you more and more from day to day. 
You can feel it especially today...
"I made food. Would you like to come to the dining table?"
No matter how many times his words have hurt you, you always smile at him.
Without looking at you, he replies, "No, I don't want to eat your food."
Ouch.
Your sad gaze wanders to the food. You've been in the kitchen for for the last two hours, on your only day off.
"Are you sure? I put in a lot of effort today."
"No. I don't want to eat it."
He still doesn't look at you, but you can clearly read his annoyed look. Your heart bleeds.
Shit, it hurts so much.
What are you doing wrong? 
Nothing—it's just the fact that Endeavour chose you. Shoto is a defiant little kid and treats you that way for that only reason. Unfortunately, you just don't know...
"Don't you want to try it at least once?"
You immediately notice how the whole room temperature is getting cooler – but nothing beats Shoto's ice-cold gaze. He clicks his tongue and puts his phone aside, straightens up and looks you straight in the eye.
"Are you stupid?"
„W-What?“ 
Your heart pounds painfully against your chest as you look at him in shock.
This time he gets up, walks slowly towards you and stops just a few steps away from you.
"Are you deaf too? I said that I don't want to eat your disgusting food. Do you want me to repeat myself again?"
Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you shake your head and look at the floor. 
"Why not so from the beginning?"
The corners of his mouth pull up to a mean smile. His gaze lingers at you for a few seconds before he turns away from you and leaves.
Your gaze wanders to the food that is even decorated to match Valentine's Day.
Does he really hate me that much?
Oh yes, you also realize why when you come home from work and hear another woman moaning in your room.
Yes, you and Shoto have separate rooms and he's doing it in yours. 
Crying, you put your things down and go out. Where?
Away, I just want to get away from him!
You don't even know where your feet are taking you. It's only when you realize you're standing in front of your beloved ex-boyfriend's apartment that you realize where you are. 
"Reader?" asks a male voice that you would recognize everywhere. Sniffling, you turn to him and are just happy to fall into his open arms. 
_
At first, Shoto grinned when he heard the door slam. It was exactly as he wanted it to be. Even if you weren't his dad, it still made him feel like he showed him. 
Today he is invited to dinner at Midoriya's. In a good mood, he gets into the car and drives off
…
He almost didn't recognize you as he drove past. You look like different person at the side of...
Who the hell are you?
You and your ex sit on a bench in the park while you eat your ice cream with a big smile and bright eyes. Shoto has never seen such an expression on you. Yes, you smiled, but it never reached your eyes. You always seem… lifeless at his side.
What is that?
His heart feels like it's tearing apart. Why does it feel like it's bothering him? Weird, he doesn't even like you at all...
 He couldn't enjoy dinner. His thoughts kept wandering to you and this uneasy feeling.
_
The next day, Shoto sat down with you at the dining table for the very first time. Far too focused on your phone, you didn't even notice him at first. It's only when he clears his throat that you look at him.
"Is anything?"
"How was your day yesterday?" 
Speechless, you blink a few times. It takes a while for you to process his question. Annoyed, your gaze turns away from him.
"Pretty good."
"Pretty good? You caught me cheating yesterday, how can your day be 'pretty good'!?"
Shoto chews angry on his lower lip as he looks at you with a boiling look in his eyes. All you can do is rub your temples.
"It's yesterday's horse face, isn't it? I'm your fiancĂŠ, not him."
Are you serious?
You suppress yourself from saying anything about it and look at him bored. This only seems to make him angrier as he walks to the door and turns his head towards you. 
"I forbid you to see him."
Before you can say anything, he already locked the door behind him.
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aajjks ¡ 6 months ago
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warnings: 18+ thèmès, YÁNDÈRÈ MÈN, ÜbsÍssïÜn, ßnhÍälthy dèvôtïôn, mèntïôns ôf Ürål, kïssïng, mèntïôns ôf sèx, mèntïôns ôf sÚïcídè.
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.”
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Izuku, gojo, yuuta, Luffy, tamaki, Xiao, Geto, Shouto, Nanami.
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yanderenightmare ¡ 7 months ago
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i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.
Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi
TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?
gn reader
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Shigaraki Tomura Ghost
You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.
It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.
You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.
Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.
Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.
Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit
He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.
He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 
He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.
Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.
You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.
You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.
Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel
Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.
You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.
He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.
And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.
Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.
Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.
Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll
He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 
Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.
Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 
He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.
Todoroki Shoto Vampire
It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.
Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.
You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.
He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.
He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.
Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire
He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 
Until you.
You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.
His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.
He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.
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♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
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feedmestraycats ¡ 1 year ago
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This is such a neat concept—I adore these little scenarios!
They all sound innocent or even sweet at first, and then they take a nosedive into horror: Hitoshi makes the perp shoot themselves despite the heroes' strict "no killing villains" rule, Bakugou blocks the exit and refuses to take no for an answer, Shouto stalks and drunkenly assaults, Eijirou is crushing us alive both literally and figuratively, and Midoriya is either rationalising his behaviour or trying hard to manipulate with that last comment.
One of my favourite MHA pieces!
What if yandere Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Shinso had a massive crush on a pro hero? And if they confess their love, their darling is like, "Come on, Kiddo. When you become a hero, maybe I'll think about it." A few years later, pro hero darling acts shock as a famous hero, #1 hero, or symbol of peace have ask them on a date. I think it would be funny to imagine a shock darling being like "Welp...I am like a dinosaur next to you."
Just so y’all are aware, requests with more than two or so people will get less attention because of how big it is.
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Izuky Midoriya never loses that hero worship of you, even when he soars above your spot in the rankings. It’s not a contest, not for him, and seemingly not for you either; you don’t treat him like a kid, but you do recognize his skill. You’d known about the crush of course, Midoriya wasn’t subtle about it, but in your mind’s eye you still saw that UA student who broke his bones to help others.
Him asking you out for drinks is a sharp wake up call, and when you make a joke about the age difference, he laughs it off;
“Your age gives you experience, Senpai, there’s so much you could teach me.”
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Katsuki Bakugou was a hot headed little shit as your intern and was still a fuse ready for a match now as a Pro-Hero. You’d taken him on as a favor and wound up liking him more than you thought- he reminded you of a blustering pomeranian, and once you had that image, well, it was easier to deal with. His work ethic was undeniable, his quirk was powerful and he had worked so hard at mastering it, it was hard not to feel proud of him. So you stepped in and tried to steer him, gently brushing aside his puppy crush.
When he showed up at your office to demand a date you’d rolled your eyes and suggested he go find someone his own age. Bakugou had blocked the doorway.
“You think I don’t know what I want?”
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When you’d first met him you hadn’t thought Shouto Todoroki had much personality. It had taken hard work and patience to crack through the defenses that Shouto had, and only then had you seen what a treasure he was. You still felt guilty about it years later, how you’d almost dismissed him. You tried to make it up to him by being there as much as you could. 
He came by your apartment at nearly 3 am, stinking of booze and swaying on his feet. You’d sighed and moved aside to let him in to sleep it off (how did he know where you lived?)
“Finally”, Shouto groaned, pinning you to the wall and crashing his lips into yours.
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Eijirou Kirishima was one of those kids you met once in a blue moon- a genuinely sweet kid with the work ethic and loyalty to make up for any deficiencies. He was easy to work with, took all criticism in stride and was eager to learn to be better. You had to admit, it was flattering how he looked at you. You never acted on it, of course- you didn’t care about him that way, and you sure as fuck didn’t lead him on. But Eijirou never let his crush get in the way of his work, which was more than most baby heroes could claim.
When he broke Top Ten he thanked you.
“I worked so hard to get here.” He admitted, blushing, “I wanted to be the best I could be, and you helped me.” His grip was so powerful, like he was scared you’d run.
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Hitoshi Shinsou was born for underground work. He slipped into the background easily, he bounced back from bruises and injuries, and he took any kind of frustration and turned it into motivation. Plus he hadn’t minded the long stake-outs and undercover work that was mostly petty bullshit. He’d done it without complaint and you’d been so fucking proud when he bloomed. His name was feared in the underground, mostly because no one knew what the fuck he was capable of. 
The first time you worked together since he’d gone pro, shit had gone wrong. Your perp had a gun to your head. Hitoshi hadn’t liked it at all.
“Put the gun to your head.” He ordered. “Hitoshi, no-” “Pull the trigger.”
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kikyoupdates ¡ 6 months ago
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Otherworldly Attraction | yandere!jjk x reader jujutsu kaisen, yandere, reverse harem, isekai, f!reader
You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.
also available on Ao3!
Leave Your Mark | bnha x reader my hero academia, reverse harem, isekai, f!reader
You didn’t accomplish anything in your previous life. Looking back on it, you feel nothing but regret, and you yearn for the chance to do things differently. As it turns out, your wish is answered, and you are reborn into your favorite fictional world. This time, you resolve to make a change, and you have the means to do it. You won’t be content with just sitting on the sidelines and letting life pass you by. You will live boldly and vibrantly, as if every moment is your last.
also available on Ao3!
Heartbreaker | bnha x reader my hero academia, reverse harem, isekai, f!reader
You awaken one day with virtually no memories. The only thing guiding you is some strange system that likes to dictate your every move, and for some reason, it insists that you make certain people fall in love with you. Desperate for answers, you decide to go along with its demands. After all, how hard can it be?
also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!
Made to Destroy | bnha x op!reader my hero academia, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader
You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.
also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!
Bloodthirst | bnha x vampire!reader my hero academia, reverse harem, vampire reader, f!reader
As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.
also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!
Infatuated | yandere!bnha x reader my hero academia, yandere, reverse harem, f!reader
Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?
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Love Bite | oc!vampires x reader yandere, reverse harem, vampires, original characters, f!reader
Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.
also available on Wattpad!
Tears of a Villainess | yandere!ocs x reader yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters, f!reader
Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?
Girlfriend-For-Hire | yandere!ocs x reader yandere, reverse harem, original characters, f!reader
Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.
Changing Plotlines | yandere!ocs x reader yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters, f!reader
A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.
Bewitched | yandere!ocs x reader yandere, reverse harem, magic, witches, f!reader
Having awoken one day with no memories apart from your name, you are endlessly thankful when a kind family decides to take you in as their own. But it appears as though your fate cannot be so easily overwritten, and as you discover more and more about the person you were meant to be, the hearts of those around you seem to change in a sinister way.
also available on Wattpad!
Crushed Velvet | yandere!ocs x reader yandere, reverse harem, original characters, f!reader
Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams?
⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰
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fangdokja ¡ 12 days ago
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You’re the light he vowed to keep, even if he has to snuff it out first.
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❤︎ Synopsis. You’re trapped in the suffocating grip of a man who loves you just enough to destroy you—until you’re nothing but his broken, devoted possession. A love that feels more like a curse than a choice.
♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
♡ Pairing. Yandere! Pro Hero! Katsuki x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Pro Hero! Shouto x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Villain! Deku x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Dabi x Fem. Reader
♡ Headcanons. Ruined, Owned, Loved. - Part 1
♡ Word Count. 3,897
♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, mature language, degradation, verbal abuse, kidnapping
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.
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♡ Pro Hero! Bakugo Katsuki.
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You knew better than to try running. The moment you felt his presence—a simmering furnace of fury and control—it was already too late. He didn’t announce his arrival with words; his footsteps were enough, sharp and deliberate, heavy boots hitting the floor like a countdown to something inevitable. Bakugo’s voice was never soft; it was a serrated edge, ripping through the air as if he had a right to every breath you took. And when he spoke, it wasn’t a question.
“Thought you could get away, huh?” His laugh was cruel, low, and full of condescension. “You’re dumber than I thought. But that’s fine. I like you stupid. Makes you easier to handle.”
His hands were everywhere—calloused, hot, burning like the aftermath of an explosion. You hated how they felt on your skin, hated the way your body betrayed you, trembling when he pressed you against the cold, unyielding surface of the wall. He’d whisper things in your ear, not because he cared, but because he wanted to hear you choke on your protests. He fed on resistance. It made him more determined, more ruthless, as if he needed to prove a point.
“You think anyone else could handle you? Take care of you? Fucking useless brat. I’m the only one who knows what you need.”
There was no romance in his touch, only dominance, a need to mark, to conquer. His lips were blistering against your neck, leaving bruises that would bloom dark and ugly—a reminder of his claim. He reveled in the small, broken noises you made, each gasp a sign of his victory. To Bakugo, love wasn’t soft. It was brutal, raw, and destructive. And you were the perfect canvas for his fire.
———
Bakugo Katsuki was never the kind of man to hold back. Even now, with the faint scent of charred air clinging to him and his gaze sharp enough to carve through steel, restraint was a foreign concept. He didn’t need to be gentle, didn’t care for the nuances of tenderness or quiet affection. His love was a volatile thing, violent and consuming, a wildfire that left nothing untouched. And you, unfortunate as you were, had become the fuel to his blaze.
“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was a low growl, the kind that sent shivers down your spine for all the wrong reasons. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, each word deliberate, dripping with venomous intent. “You’re mine. Every single part of you. That fucked-up little brain, those stupid tears, even the way you fucking breathe—you don’t get to decide any of it anymore. I do.”
His hands were unforgiving, each touch an assertion of control, as though he was daring your body to defy him. He wasn’t satisfied with merely holding you. He needed to own you, to etch himself into your very marrow, to ensure that every fleeting thought you had began and ended with him. Calloused fingers dug into your flesh, searing heat radiating off his palms like the embers of a smoldering fire. His grip wasn’t just tight—it was possessive, like he was claiming his place under your skin, branding you without the need for flames.
“You’re so fucking fragile,” he sneered, his lips curling into a smirk that held no kindness. “Can’t even put up a proper fight. What would you even do without me? Huh?”
There was something almost mocking in the way he spoke, but beneath it lay a darker truth: Bakugo didn’t just want you compliant—he wanted you broken, a hollowed-out shell with only his name to fill the emptiness. He thrived on the power he held over you, the way your trembling body responded to him no matter how much your mind screamed otherwise.
His kisses weren’t tender. They were bruising, feral, the kind that left you breathless for all the wrong reasons. Teeth scraped against your skin, leaving faint indentations that would fade just enough for him to replace them. His mouth trailed lower, each bite deliberate, as though he were carving himself into you with the edge of his teeth.
“Don’t bother crying,” he hissed, his voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Won’t do you any good. Just makes me want to ruin you more.”
There was no hesitation in his movements, no room for uncertainty. Bakugo wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself, especially not when it came to you. Every touch, every whispered insult, every moment was carefully calculated, designed to tear you apart and rebuild you in his image. To him, love was destruction, and the thought of anyone else laying claim to you was enough to send his temper spiraling out of control.
“If anyone even looks at you wrong, I’ll blow them to pieces,” he said, his tone deadly serious. “And you’ll watch. You’ll see exactly what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine.”
The threat wasn’t empty. You knew Bakugo meant every word, his rage barely contained, simmering beneath the surface like magma waiting to erupt. And yet, there was something disturbingly intimate in the way he held you, his grip firm but steady, as though he believed he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.
“You’ll thank me one day,” he muttered, his voice softer now but no less menacing. “You’ll see that I’m the only one who gives a damn about you. The only one who’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
His idea of safety was suffocating, a cage made of fire and ash, but there was no escaping it. Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t a man who let go—not when he’d already decided that you were his, body and soul. And he’d make sure you understood that, even if it meant breaking you into pieces and putting you back together again, over and over, until the only thing you recognized was him.
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♡ Pro Hero! Todoroki Shouto.
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Shouto was a contradiction: ice and fire, tenderness and cruelty. When he stared at you, it wasn’t with love but with obsession, the kind that stripped you bare and left you exposed under his cold, calculating gaze. He was too quiet, his presence unnerving, his dual-colored eyes a predator’s trap. There was something unnervingly patient about him, as though he had all the time in the world to break you.
“You look so scared,” he murmured, voice soft enough to make your blood run cold. “But you don’t have to be. I’ll take care of you.”
His fingers were gloved, precise, as if he didn’t want to dirty himself with you. But when he touched you, it was deliberate, calculated, his hands mapping every inch of your body with clinical detachment. It wasn’t passion that drove him—it was control, the need to see you submit, to strip you of your autonomy until you were nothing but a doll for him to play with.
“You’re mine,” he said, his tone flat, matter-of-fact. “You’ll understand that soon enough.”
Shouto’s cruelty was subtle, wrapped in a veneer of kindness that made you second-guess your fear. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, a monster waiting to strike. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to suffocate you. When he leaned in, his breath cold against your skin, you knew there was no escape.
———
Shouto Todoroki was meticulous in everything he did, and when it came to you, that precision was unnervingly intimate. He didn’t rush, didn’t let his emotions spill out in reckless waves like others might. No, Shouto was a slow, deliberate storm, his control more terrifying than any outburst could ever be. He didn’t need to shout or rage; his silence was its own weapon, slicing through you with a cold, surgical exactness that left no room for resistance.
“Do you hate me?” he asked once, his voice a quiet hum of curiosity. His mismatched eyes searched yours, not for an answer, but for the flicker of defiance he knew wouldn’t last. “It doesn’t matter. Hate me if you like. It changes nothing.”
His touch was clinical at first, his gloved fingers tracing your skin as though he were studying the way you flinched beneath him. It wasn’t lust that drove him, nor even anger—it was obsession, a need so deeply rooted it had consumed every rational part of him. Shouto didn’t see you as a person anymore, not entirely. You were a puzzle, a possession, something delicate and fragile that belonged to him alone.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the steel underneath. “Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”
There was a chilling detachment in the way he said it, as though your autonomy was a trivial obstacle he’d long since dismissed. Shouto wasn’t cruel for the sake of it; every act, every word, was deliberate, calculated to strip you of your defenses. He wanted you pliant, dependent, so deeply intertwined with him that the thought of leaving felt like an impossibility.
When he kissed you, it was neither tender nor rushed. His lips were cold, an eerie contrast to the heat that followed, a slow burn that made your skin prickle and your heart race. He took his time, savoring the way you trembled under his touch, the way your breath hitched when his hand slid to the nape of your neck. Shouto didn’t rush his conquest. He was patient, methodical, the predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.
“You’re so warm,” he said, almost to himself, as his fingers traced idle patterns across your skin. “It’s comforting. I think I’d destroy anyone who tried to take this from me.”
His dual nature made him unpredictable, a constant tightrope between icy detachment and blistering intensity. There were moments when he’d cradle your face in his hands, his expression almost tender, as though he were something close to human. But even then, his words betrayed him.
“You can cry if you want,” he said, his tone soft, almost gentle. “I don’t mind. It only makes you prettier.”
He didn’t see your fear as an obstacle—it was part of the process, a necessary step in molding you into what he wanted. Your tears were proof of his power, a testament to the control he wielded with such terrifying ease. And when his hands roamed, when his lips found the sensitive curve of your neck, there was no escaping the suffocating weight of his presence.
Shouto’s love wasn’t fiery or wild; it was smothering, a glacier slowly encasing you until you couldn’t breathe without him. His cruelty was subtle, woven into the fabric of his obsession, a constant reminder that you were his and his alone.
“You’ll see,” he whispered, his breath a cold ghost against your ear. “This is what’s best for you. You’ll understand eventually. You’ll thank me.”
He didn’t rush to break you; he savored it, each crack in your defenses another victory in his quiet, relentless campaign. To Shouto, love was control, possession, and the quiet certainty that you would never, ever belong to anyone else.
And he would make sure of that, no matter what it took.
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♡ Villain! Midoriya Izuku (Deku).
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There was nothing left of the boy you once knew. His smile, once kind and genuine, was now twisted, a mockery of the hero he pretended to be. Midoriya was no longer a savior—he was a predator, and you were his prey. He didn’t hide his intentions, didn’t bother with pretenses.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice dripping with adoration that felt more like a curse. “I’ve been watching you for so long. You have no idea how much I’ve done for you, how many people I’ve destroyed just to keep you safe.”
His hands were trembling, not with nerves but with excitement, the kind that came from finally obtaining something he’d coveted for so long. When he touched you, it was with reverence, as if you were a sacred object meant only for him. But there was nothing holy about the way he looked at you, his green eyes dark with hunger, his grin wide and unsettling.
“You’re scared,” he noted, almost amused. “That’s okay. You’ll learn to love me. You don’t have a choice.”
His kisses were rough, desperate, as if he needed to consume you, to devour every piece of you until there was nothing left. He didn’t care if you cried, didn’t care if you begged. In fact, he liked it. Your tears were proof of his power, of the hold he had over you.
———
Midoriya Izuku had always been obsessive, but the way his fixation on you consumed him was nothing short of monstrous. He no longer sought to save the world; no, his only goal was to possess you entirely, to twist you into something that could never leave him. And he’d succeeded, hadn’t he? You were here, trapped under the weight of his adoration, his hands gripping you with a strength that bordered on desperation.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” His voice was breathless, his green eyes wide and wild as they roved over you. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You were always meant to be mine. Every step I’ve taken, every choice I’ve made—it was all for you.”
There was something unhinged in his tone, a mixture of awe and madness that made your stomach churn. He didn’t see you as a person anymore. You were his salvation, his obsession, the only thing that mattered in his twisted, crumbling world. And he would do anything to keep you by his side.
“I’m not a bad person,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Everything I’ve done—it was for us. They tried to take you from me, tried to ruin what we have, but I stopped them. I’ll always stop them.”
His hands were steady now, his grip firm as he held you in place. There was no escape, no room for resistance. Izuku didn’t need chains to bind you; his sheer presence was enough to suffocate you, to remind you that you were entirely at his mercy.
“You think I don’t notice?” he asked, his grin widening as his gaze bore into yours. “The way you look at me, the way your body reacts even when you’re scared. It’s okay to feel that way. I want you to feel that way. I want every part of you—your fear, your tears, your love. It’s all mine.”
When he kissed you, it wasn’t tender. It was bruising, all-consuming, a chaotic clash of teeth and tongues that left you gasping for air. His hands wandered, exploring with a fervor that bordered on worship. He treated your body like a shrine, something to be revered and defiled in equal measure.
“You’re trembling,” he noted, his voice soft but laced with dark amusement. “Don’t worry, it’s normal. You’re overwhelmed, but that’s how it should be. I want to overwhelm you. I want to be the only thing you think about, the only thing you need.”
Izuku’s affection was a double-edged sword, as sharp as it was suffocating. He spoke to you as if he were a hero, as if he truly believed that his actions were justified, that his love for you made the horrors he committed excusable. But his gaze, dark and hungry, betrayed the truth. He wasn’t protecting you—he was consuming you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the person you once were.
“Every scar, every bruise—it’s proof that you’re mine,” he said, his fingers tracing the marks he’d left behind. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Wear them with pride. They mean I love you.”
There was no arguing with him, no reasoning with the man who had long since abandoned morality in favor of his obsession. Izuku didn’t see his actions as cruel; he saw them as necessary. To him, you were the center of the universe, and he would destroy anyone who dared to challenge his claim on you.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I hate seeing you upset. But if it’s for me, then… maybe it’s okay. Just this once.”
His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was no comfort in it. It was the smile of a man who had nothing left to lose, a man who had decided that you were his salvation and his damnation all at once. And no matter how much you struggled, no matter how much you begged, Izuku wouldn’t let you go. He couldn’t.
“You’re mine,” he said again, his voice steady, unwavering. “You’ve always been mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
To him, love wasn’t about freedom or choice. It was possession, control, the unrelenting certainty that you would never belong to anyone else. And as his hands tightened around you, his lips ghosting over your skin, you realized that there was no escape from the man who had turned his obsession into a twisted form of devotion.
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♡ Dabi (Todoroki Touya).
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Dabi was a shadow, a ghost who lingered just out of reach until it was too late. His presence was suffocating, a combination of smoke and ash that clung to your skin like a brand. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“You didn’t think you could actually hide from me, girl?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a dark amusement that made your stomach turn. “I’m not some fool who’s gonna let you slip through my fingers.”
His touch was rough, his hands scarred and burned, but he didn’t care if it hurt. In fact, he liked it, liked the way you flinched under his grip, the way your breath hitched when he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.
“You look so pretty when you’re scared,” he murmured, his tone almost tender. “Makes me wanna ravage you even more.”
Dabi wasn’t gentle. He didn’t know how to be. His kisses were bruising, his teeth sharp against your skin, leaving marks that would take weeks to fade. He was possessive, his grip unyielding as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a flicker of something broken and desperate that only made him more dangerous.
“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady, final. “And I don’t share.”
For Dabi, love was destruction.
And you were his favorite thing to destroy.
———
Dabi’s love was a slow burn, a smoldering fire that crept closer with every passing moment, until it devoured you whole. He didn’t rush, didn’t bother with theatrics. When he claimed you, it was with the inevitability of something that had been decided long before you had a chance to resist.
“You didn’t stand a chance,” he said, his voice a husky drawl that carried the weight of certainty. His blue eyes, bright and unrelenting, bore into yours with a heat that scorched you from the inside out. “You’ve always been mine since the moment I saw you. You just didn’t know it yet.”
His touch was calloused, rough from years of self-destruction, and when his hands gripped your wrists, the heat of his skin was a cruel reminder of his power. Dabi didn’t just want you—he wanted to consume you, to make you feel every ounce of his presence until you couldn’t think of anything else. His fingers left marks wherever they roamed, bruises that burned as if his flames had kissed you directly.
“You feel that?” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck as his rough lips ghosted over your skin. “That’s me. Burning into you. Marking you. You’ll never get rid of it. Never get rid of me.”
There was a possessiveness in his every movement, a desperate hunger that bordered on madness. He didn’t want your love—he demanded it, took it without permission, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. His kisses were rough, searing, his teeth dragging against your lips as if he wanted to taste the fear that lingered there.
“I could burn this whole fucking world down,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, his grip tightening as his flames flickered to life. “But you? You’re the only thing I’d keep. The only thing worth saving.”
But his version of saving was suffocating, a cage built of fire and smoke that left no escape. Dabi wasn’t gentle, wasn’t kind. His love was destruction, raw and unfiltered, the kind that left you trembling beneath the weight of it. He didn’t care if you cried, if you begged for release. In fact, he thrived on it, the broken sound of your voice feeding the darkness that consumed him.
“Don’t cry, doll,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The heat of his touch lingered, a cruel reminder of the flames that simmered just beneath his skin. “You’re too pretty for that. Besides, it’s not like you can run. Where the hell would you go?
Dabi’s obsession was a monster in itself, a hungry, clawing thing that refused to let him rest. He needed you in a way that was almost pathetic, a desperate craving that he buried under layers of cruelty and bravado. But it slipped through the cracks sometimes, in the way his voice softened when he whispered your name, in the way his hands trembled just slightly when they traced the curve of your neck.
“You make me weak, you know that?” he confessed, his laugh a bitter, shattered thing as his grip on you tightened. “And I hate it. But I can’t stop. You’re in my head, under my skin. You’ve ruined me, so it’s only fair I ruin you too.”
To Dabi, love wasn’t about tenderness or trust. It was about control, possession, the unrelenting need to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. He didn’t see his actions as cruel—they were necessary, a means to an end. And if he had to break you to keep you, then so be it.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, his grin sharp and dangerous as his lips brushed against yours. “This is how it’s gonna be. You and me, forever. You don’t get a say in it. You never did.”
There was no escape from him, no reprieve from the intensity of his obsession. Dabi wasn’t just a villain—he was a force of nature, an inferno that consumed everything in its path.
And you were his favorite thing to burn.
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ttodorokiii ¡ 1 month ago
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aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(
warnings: yåndèrè, guílt, månípÚlåtíòn, íntènsè.
note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!
•••
You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.
You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…
But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.
You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.
And it terrifies you.
Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,
feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.
So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,
you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.
“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.
It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.
“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”
He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,
like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.
“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”
How dare he say that?
You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.
“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”
The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.
“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.
You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”
“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”
He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…
You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,
Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.
But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.
“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.
You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.
You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”
But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.
“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”
And it’s in that moment you realize,
the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.
And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.
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wttcsms ¡ 1 year ago
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we play our fantasies out in real life ways ; shouto todoroki.
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pairing shouto todoroki x f!reader  word count 2.7k  synopsis knocking up his sugar baby seems (and feels) like a dream come true for the future ceo and youngest son of japan’s richest conglomerate family. content contains sugar daddy!shouto, yandere themes, car sex, creampie, breeding kink, quirkless au, ceo!shouto, tiny daddy kink author’s notes this is a repost of an old fic but pls tell me we are still horny 4 shouto. also ignore the Tesla promo, i was feeling silly when i wrote this </3
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He can have anything he wants, you know.
And of course you know this. Of course you do. It’s hard to ignore this fact whenever he’s the exact reason your closet is overflowing with more dresses than you know what to do with; why your dresser can barely stay shut due to the amount of lacy lingerie you’ve had to shove in them; why you’re a third year college student driving to campus with a brand new Mercedes that technically isn’t even supposed to be out on the market ‘til next month. 
He can have anything he wants, and because you’re his, by extension, you have the power to make all your material wishes come true, too. All you have to do is ask him.
All you have to do is look up at him and give him those puppy dog eyes of yours and say, “please, daddy, can I cum?” and he’ll let you. You know he will, because stoic Shouto Todoroki, the future CEO and prized son of the Todoroki clan that happens to be one of the most famous conglomerate families in all of Japan, just can’t seem to say no to you. He signs off multi-billion yen deals as easily as one blinks and running multiple companies is just something he’s been born to do. It’s no easy feat to give commands to such a powerful man. 
And yet, one look and a tiny whimper is all it takes to turn him into putty in your hands. 
It’s always an out of body experience when you’re with Shouto. Being with him is like constantly being the main character of a movie. He rents out entire restaurants so the two of you can dine away from prying eyes. He sends you good morning and good night texts every single day. (One time you joked about him forcing his assistant to do it because there’s no way a busy man like him would ever have time to do something so insignificant; he didn’t like that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the concept of you being someone very important to him.) Shouto is incredibly good to you, incredibly good for you.
He’s incredibly good with a lot of things. Taking care of you, for one. Taking care of all his businesses, for another. And right now, he’s taking real good care of your cunt when he’s got three of his fingers knuckles deep in you. 
The windows to his sleek, outrageously priced car are tinted so dark, even you struggle to see through the windshield. You always tell him it’s dangerous, but he reminds you that there are always reasons for the things he does. You wonder if getting tinted windows so he could fuck his college student sugar baby with some semblance of privacy is the reason. 
And then all thinking on your end comes to a stop when he nips at the skin of your neck, biting down softly and getting you to let out a tiny whimper. It doesn’t hurt. You don’t think Shouto is even capable of hurting you; not because you’re some unbreakable being, but because you don’t think the calloused hands that have caressed every centimeter of your body is capable of harming you. 
The two of you are currently parked in the lot right outside the building where his main office is located. In about ten minutes, the parking lot will be flooded with employees who have just clocked out and are getting ready to speed home. In about ten minutes, anyone could accidentally (or purposely) become a little voyeur to the activities going down in the future CEO’s luxury car. 
Your back is pressed against his chest. More often than not, you find yourself naked while he’s practically still dressed, and it’s the same thing that’s happening right now. The buttons on his shirt are digging into your back, but you can’t find it in you to complain. Instead, you focus on gripping the wrist of the hand that’s in between your thighs. The sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled up, and if you take your tiny fingers just a bit higher, you can feel the veins running down his arm. 
“Tell me what you want, baby.” The baritone of his voice is smooth, calm, collected — in control. Because you can make any request in the world, and Shouto will fulfill it for you, but that does not mean that you are the one who makes the final decisions. At the end of the day, everything you have, everything that is given to you, is because of him, because of the decisions he makes for you.
His eagerness to gift you the world thinly veils the true depth of your submission to him. A subconscious part of you is well aware of the power imbalance in this relationship, but if all has been well these past two years, then surely it’ll only be smooth sailing from here?
You lean back, leaning into his warmth, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his spicy cologne that costs more than your textbooks (that he bought for you). 
“D-daddy.” You moan out, trying to coax him deeper in your tight little cunt, as if his fingers aren’t already as deep as they can go, spreading out your hole to prep you for what he knows you truly crave. 
“You’ve got to speak up, love. I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what to give you.” His breath is warm against your ear, and it’s so hot in the car. So, so hot. You wonder if it’s just you feeling the heat, though. Shouto seems as collected as ever, not the least bit uncomfortable at all. 
“Mmm — w-want you.” You wriggle a bit in his lap, but his free hand grips your side and squeezes you with a firm, nonverbal command to stop moving. You do, immediately. Because that’s what you always do: follow his command. 
“I know you do.” He coos, finally moving his fingers. It’s agonizingly slow, too slow. The car is silent save for your little pants and the obscene wet sounds that come as a result of his fingers thrusting in your wet cunt. 
“Faster, daddy.” You whine out, looking up at him. The sun is setting, and despite the tint of the windows, the orange glow from the sun still shines against his smooth skin, casting his face into something that’s half sunset/half shadow. It’s a good look; a sharp contrast that matches his hair. Seeing your blatant admiration of him only spurs him to give in and go faster. He had planned on drawing this out for as long as he possibly could. He had originally wanted to coax you into as many orgasms ‘til you were nothing but a fucked out little mess, too worn out to pay attention or even care when he finishes your little session with you plugged up with his cum. 
The lives of children born into the Todoroki family are more cursed than it is blessed, and Shouto had, a very long time ago, made a vow that he would never continue the bloodline. He would have no children, which would be easy because he planned on never having a lover.
And then he met you, started providing for you, realized how much he enjoyed providing, and realized even more that the only way to strengthen this transactional relationship is by forcing your hand. He likes to think that you would stay with him willingly, but there are some chances that he’s just not willing to take; there are some extremes that he’s all too entirely happy to go far to, though. 
Your sweet moans mix in well with the lewd sounds of your pussy getting thoroughly fingerfucked. His fingers are so much longer than yours, can reach spots inside of you that you can’t quite reach yourself. He’s efficient with anything and everything he does, and you’re not surprised when he doesn’t slow his pace. The consistent strokes of his fingers, your lowered inhibitions when around Shouto, and the look on his face (equal parts concentration and adoration) all help in making you cum all over his hand. 
“Good girl.” Shouto whispers, removing his fingers and holding his hand up. The sunlight beaming through makes his digits glisten even more, and you’re enraptured as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck your essence off of them. Piercing heterochromatic eyes never leave yours as he sucks on them, and you have to turn away from embarrassment. How can he keep such a straight face when literally licking your cum off his fingers? 
“Don’t turn away from me.” His hand — still wet — grips your chin and forces you to look at him again. “I don’t like it when you shy away from me.” 
You nod meekly, and Shouto sighs. 
“You shouldn’t be shy around me. I don’t like making you feel uncomfortable, you know that, don’t you?” 
You nod again, a subtle, barely there move. He’s not impressed. 
“Answer me properly.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, and you sit up a little straighter. Shouto would never lay a hand on you with the intent to physically harm you, but he’s not above roughing you up during sex. You’ve heard him get this way before, and the imprint of his fingertips and the purple hickeys littering your poor body took three days to fade properly. 
“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say with a pout, trying to conjure up any sort of leniency he can spare. Judging by his facial expression and the wavering look in his eyes, he’s already softening up. You just have to make it up to him now to have his complete forgiveness.
Maneuvering in the limited space the driver’s seat gives is no easy task, but you manage to shift positions to where you’re straddling his lap, finally facing him properly. He’s leaned back, watching you with a hungry glint in his eyes that makes you feel like the most wanted girl in all of Japan. A surge of heat flows through your body, from the tips of your ears to your cheeks and all the way down to between your thighs. If you were in a different position, you could clench them together, try to rub your thighs in an attempt to ease the need for friction. 
Your fingers make quick work of his belt and his zipper, pulling down on both the waistband of his slacks and his briefs to finally free his cock. He’s already hard, and you admire the way your hand can’t even wrap fully around him. The tip is flushed red, pearly beads of precum already present. 
This is the part where you look up at him, almost as if you’re unsure about what to do. You don’t know what it does to him, to see you sitting on his lap with his cock looking outrageously large in your tiny hands. He can see your pretty pussy practically dripping all over his slacks. Now’s not the time for you to be playing the role of an innocent, unsure little girl, but then it hits him: you’re asking him for permission. He almost lets out a bark of laughter. 
“You’ve already taken it upon yourself to tear into my pants and make a grab for my cock. Surely you don’t expect me to beg to fuck your little hole now, do you?” He has a cold smile on his face as he brings you closer to him. “I thought this was my apology. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me do all the work?”
“O-of course not!” You look startled at the suggestion, eyes going big and round. He looks at you expectantly, as if telling you to do something. 
It always burns when you first take him. It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cums, doesn’t matter how long he spends stretching you out on his fingers. By now, your pussy should have memorized the feel of his dick, should have been moulded to fit him and only him. And while there’s a tiny flash of pain and discomfort for you (which Shouto hates), it’s hard not to be in love with the feel of just how tight you are. 
The stinging pain is brief, though, and is easily replaced by one of satisfaction from being stuffed by the prettiest, fattest cock you’ve ever taken in your life. 
You moan, rocking your hips back and forth. Maybe this was originally supposed to be an apology to him, but it feels more like you’re using him as your own personal toy, and Shouto really couldn’t care less. After all, if it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure. 
“Are you enjoying yourself, baby? What would happen if I never met you, hmm? Are you willing to spread those pretty legs of yours for any man?” He says the last sentence with a tone sharper than usual. You shake your head as you continue to rut against him, chasing after your own high because you might not be a simpleminded slut for anyone, but you are nothing more than a cockslut when it comes to Shouto. 
“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck!” You moan out, falling against his chest, burying your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. “D-daddy, fuck!”
He holds you close to him as you cum, not even minding the mess you’ve made of his work pants. “Daddy’s got you.” He coos, his hand finding the back of your neck and squeezing you there, gently. “You must be tired now…”
You’re still too fucked out to really comprehend what’s exactly going on ‘til it’s happening, but even with your slow reaction times, you still manage to let out a slutty moan as you feel Shouto thrusting up into you. It must be uncomfortable, you think. This position doesn’t make it exactly easy for him to chase after his own pleasure, but then you remember that Shouto Todoroki doesn’t back down or break down when it comes to challenges.
He perseveres. 
You’re like a rag doll, like a personal little fucktoy, made for him to use (and maybe even break) as he pleases. Every thrust is sharp and intense, and his teeth are clenched as he continues to use you, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls and admiring the ring of white that coats and clings to his dick every time he pulls out. 
It doesn’t take him much longer to finally finish; he grabs you by your hips, raising you slightly before abruptly pushing you down on his cock, making sure that he’s nestled as deeply in you as he can be when he finally cums. He’s breathing a bit harder as he comes down, and then he’s grabbing you by your hair, making you stare at him. 
His cheeks are flushed, there’s some slight sweat building up on his forehead, his shirt is wrinkled. He’s never looked better. You’ve never felt better. 
Or, more accurately, never felt fuller. 
“Shouto, did you c…” You can’t even finish the sentence. Did you cum inside? Not like you have to; you know the answer. Some of it is dripping out of you. 
All he does is give you that small smile, the one that he rarely lets anyone see, and starts up the car. 
If he doesn’t want to talk now, there’s no way you can get him to answer properly. You try to remove yourself from his lap and make your ungraceful, disgusting journey to the passenger seat, but Shouto places a firm hand on your waist, forcing you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Shouto, you can’t possibly drive while I’m sitting here on your lap.”
“I bought a Tesla for a reason.” 
Right. Because everything Shouto does has a reason for it.
You think about this on the drive back to his penthouse, a little bit of fear building up in your lower belly. Shouto does everything for a reason, and what’s the reason for any man cumming inside?
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eu0n1a ¡ 5 months ago
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I don't think y'all understand.
I feel like if you were a pro hero's wife or gf, to the media, you really don't have an identity outside of that. Like its just a screaming reminder that you are theirs.
"Mrs. Bakugou" "Mrs. Todoroki " "Mrs. Midoriya"
Eventually, you might as well forget you even have a real name. Real identity. You're just his.
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fattuccini-afraido ¡ 4 months ago
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Todoroki: Don't make fun of people who drink milk. Their bones may be strong but their hearts aren't.
Everyone: *Looks at Bakugo*
Baukgo: -hisss-
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ghostsy ¡ 2 years ago
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Dearly Beloved
WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, imprisonment, slight infantilization, non-consensual implications, abuse, nsfw, smut, dub/noncon
read at your own discretion.
yandere ! TODOROKI SHOTO X READER
“Please, if you have any information…”
She wanted to throw up. Or pass out. In any particular order she didn’t really care, just anything to stop this. Her legs had long gone numb strewn over his lap, the dewy stains of her despair spilled across his slacks, her hands secured tightly behind her back.
“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Whatever joy I had disappeared with her that day. Please, I just want her home. We just want to bring our daughter home. She deserved…she deserves better than this…”
The device responsible for her torture was still buzzing excitedly at the swollen source of agony between her thighs. A sudden silence filled the room, television screen freezing on sobbing faces, and her heart leapt to her throat.
“You’re not paying attention.”
The vibrator clicked off, and his hand came to rest on her thigh, the other still secured around her waist to prop her up, squeezing at her hips. Though, the circles he drew on her skin weren’t in any way a comfort.
She couldn’t see his face from her place in front of the screen, but she hardly had to guess his expression, hardly had to guess his feelings. His reputation preceded him. Hot and Cold. She’d learned through painful trial and error that it was meant in more ways than one.
She licked at her cracked lips, “I am. I am–please–I promise, I am,” Through the breaks, her voice was sugar sweet, innocent, docile. A thinly veiled search for mercy.
“We’ll rewind.” Though, it seemed he would give her none as he coaxed her gaze back to the television in front of them.
Right. There was another source of agony–of torture–he’d been keen on subjecting her to today. It was her fault, she supposed, for being foolish enough to believe that unlocked window to be anything other than a test. A test that she’d, of course, failed. 
“Nearly one year after the sudden disappearance of a Tokyo woman, friends and family are struggling to hold on to hope. Our journalists caught up with…”
She closed her eyes, swallowing the salty tears fighting their way up her throat to join the streams on her cheeks, and opened her mouth to speak, hiccuping on her sobs.
“Please, I’ll–I’m sorry. I can’t take–I’ll never–I won’t–promise I won’t–”
“I don’t see the problem,” He’d made a career out of patronizing her, she’d discovered, “You wanted to see your friends and family, right?” The growing heat on her thigh meant it wasn’t rhetorical. 
She hissed at the burn, forcing a reply through gritted teeth, “I didn’t mean–”
“You didn’t mean…? You’re hardly in a position to be picky,” Shifting his hold on her, the vibrator, still latched to her pulsing clit, clicked on, two of his fingers dipped down, circling her glistening hole, teasing, “I’d say it's plenty gracious of me to give you even this,” Calloused and cold, they shoved themselves inside her, setting an unforgiving pace. 
She nearly keeled over from the sensation, cursing under her breath, “I’m–It wasn’t–Can we please just–”
“You think you’d be happier, right?” His canines grazed her neck, threatening to break through the skin, “That you’d feel better out there. What’s anyone out there ever done for you?” He scoffed, “What have they done to earn your love?” The tremble of his voice reminded her of his barely contained, and building, rage. She had to do something.
“No, that’s not–” She begged with his name on her lips, “I just–I just wanted–”
“All you need to do is convince me,” There was electricity building in her veins, though a pit of dread forming in her stomach, “Your happiness depends on them? I’m really so terrible?” The murmur of the television was turning to static in her ears, “Get through one interview, then,” He huffed out a humorless laugh, “Just one, I promise,” Voice low and sultry, “Without gushing on my fingers while you watch them cry.”
She choked on a sob, but the ache in her limbs and the tightness squeezing its way from her chest to her throat significantly damped any anger she would have–should have–felt. 
“She was my best friend; she wouldn’t have just up and left.”
She just wanted this to be over. Find her panties, curl up under her bed covers, and let the roaring tides in her lungs pour out her eyes, and scream. Scream ‘till she passed out, hoping to find peace in the abyss of unconsciousness.
“Was? Are you saying that you think she’s passed on?”
“...I—Well, it’s not—It’s just, it’s been so long, and I–if we, the people who care about her, are going to have any chance at healing…”
Alas, fate was never so kind to her, and she was reminded of another, more humiliating, tide pooling in her gut.
Two fingers inside her became three, and she bit her tongue to stifle a whimper as they reached that once special, now cursed, spot inside her. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t. It didn’t.
Sighing, he brought the hand around her waist to pet at her hair, “Don’t you see?” He tucked the strands behind her ear, hot breath hitting her skin, “They’ve given up on you. What will it take for you to understand, lovely?”
“I’m just so tired. We all are. But I love her, really I do.”
He snorted, “Love you. They don’t love you,” Angling his face downwards, hair tickling her cheek, “Family. Friends,” She was panting now, eyes going crossed from exertion, “They mean nothing. They are nothing.” She wouldn’t come; she couldn’t. But the clenching of her walls against his fingers betrayed her, and she felt his lips pull into a smirk against her throat.
“There’s just…what else is there left to do? I can’t–I don’t–scouring woods and swamps and–to try and find…try and find what? I just can’t–I can’t do it–I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t–”
“No one takes care of you like I do.” 
Vibrator still buzzing, a numbing, pulsing, ache formed between her legs, and his fingers, wet and crystalline, sped their pace, squelching as they fucked in and out of her weeping entrance. There was a ringing in her ears as she felt the floodgates start to open. Please no. Not again. 
What would they say if they could see her now? Mewling and moaning like a whore on her captor’s fingers while their worlds upended? How disgusting she was–if only her body agreed. 
“Take your time. If this is too hard–”
“No. I can at least do this for her. So people remember her. Remember her name. She would have wanted at least that.”
“No one knows you like I do.”
He was trailing wet kisses up her neck, tongue and teeth coming together to form scattered bruises in his path. Her thighs were spasming, flexing in an attempt to stave off the waves of pleasure threatening to drown her.
“It’s clear how much she means to you. How lucky she must have felt to have someone care about her so deeply.”
“No one loves you like I do.”
His teeth sunk into her earlobe, and her vision went white, nerves exploding as her walls clenched, desperately, gratefully, if not ashamedly, fluttering around his digits for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
Though the relief, like any momentary pleasure he’d bestowed upon her, unwilling or otherwise, was short lived. Coming down from her high, she blinked away the tears weighing on her lashes, and blurring her vision, lungs heaving in an attempt to gather her bearings. The vibrator clicked off, and his fingers pulled themselves from her, dewy and gleaming.
“Suck.” He pushed them through her lips, and she choked on their length, licking at the sticky substance, and swallowing to assuage his anger. He removed them with a pop, and she held her breath, praying to whatever god she did or didn’t believe in that he would release her. He’d made his point, right? 
“I’m…I’m sorry,” She gulped in air to stifle the shake in her voice, and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, wetting the skin with her tears, pathetic, “I won’t–”
“You didn’t think we were finished did you?” Her heart dropped to her stomach, “You’ve failed to convince me, you know.” 
“I’m convinced!” She winced, realizing the volume, but found he was waiting for her to continue, “I’m…I’m convinced. You were right. I shouldn’t have tried to leave…I wasn’t–I wasn’t thinking.”
The second of silence was months long, but a soft laugh tinged with delirium broke through the static noise. Cold fingers clutched at her jaw, angling her face towards his own.
Forced to meet his gaze, she hated to admit it, but he was so pretty. The allure of mystery twinkled in those mismatched eyes, hiding the promise of something no man or woman or person could possibly hope to resist.
“No,” Sighing, his free hand squeezed at her waist, “No, you were never really good at that, were you?” She nearly didn’t hear him, lost to her thoughts, wallowing in self pity and hate; why hadn’t she seen it before?
She just wished she could have left well enough alone. Let that mystery pass her by unsolved. A promise can be hollow, she’d learned; a vortex of nothing that pulls you into the blackness, greedy in its emptiness to steal any soul or love or light from its captive, leaving them to drown in the inky darkness, dead, but never alone.
A stinging pinch at her side motivated her to sputter out the prompted answer.
“At what?”
“Thinking.”
She could say something, she realized. Anything. Anything but what she knew she’d let slip from her lips. Fucking coward.
“No,” Coward, “No, I wasn’t–I’m–No, I’m not.” 
He hummed, eyes twinkling, amused, “Anything else?”
Her teeth sunk into her lip, bloated and salted with her tears, canines piercing through the skin to let drops of red bubble to the surface. Still, she forced out another meek placation.
 “I’m sorry,” But cowards don’t get burnt and they don’t get frostbite and they don’t get hurt, “I’ll–I’ve learned my–my lesson, now. I promise, please–”
“It’s cute that you think anything you say matters,” Cowards don’t get hurt, she reminded herself, but the stinging of shattered pride in her chest argued otherwise, “Besides,” He motioned towards the television, “We’re not even halfway through.”
No. No no no. She’d done what he’d said, hadn’t she? Please. No more. The knot in her throat was making it hard to breathe, twisting and growing, “Please–”
He sighed as he shifted a bit behind her, and she felt it, more present than before, “What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t follow through on my promises, lovely?” The clink of a belt buckle ripped at her heart, “And, really, how can I resist,” Fingers trailed back down to swipe at her puffy and abused and dripping entrance before pulling away, flexing his fingers as the dewy substance stuck in webs to the digits, “When you’re practically begging for it.”
She felt like a ragdoll, what little fight or resistance or hope beaten and torn from inside her. A firm hand bruised her waist as he lifted her, and shuffled out of his pants. He turned her face back towards the screen, a trail of frost creeping at her jawline as he released her.
“If there’s anything you’d say to her if you could–anything you think she’d want to hear…”
“There’s just one thing.”
Something too big and too hard and too familiar prodded at her sore and tired entrance, and her fingernails made crescent moons in her tied palms.
“Wherever you are. Whatever happened.”
The wetness allowed him to slide in rather easily, but the girth was accompanied by a burning stretch. She should have been used to this by now, and while the feel of his cock throbbing inside her was all too familiar, she found herself dizzy, unfocused, nauseous. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to scream, but that inky blackness of his had filled her lungs. 
“I hope you’re somewhere warm and bright, even if it’s above the clouds.”
She was drowning. Drowning and hurting, and clawing for just a hint of light from the abyss of broken promises. Wasn’t drowning supposed to be peaceful? How long did she have to wait until it was peaceful? 
“I hope you’ve found peace.”
“Oh,” He sighed as he bottomed out inside her, “This is my favorite part.”
Her limbs felt heavy, and she felt so tired. Was this the good part? Give up and it won’t hurt. Give up and let him do as he pleased. Give up and drown prettily. Become as empty and hollow as the pit she was trapped in, and the hurt would stop. Feelings and pain and everything. Make it stop.
“And I promise, I won’t ever stop loving you.”
964 notes ¡ View notes
heich0e ¡ 1 year ago
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i think shouto and touya are both the kind of guys who love watching you sleep. and there's definitely something at least kind of sweet about it sometimes, but there is undeniably also something incredibly unnerving abt waking up and having them openly staring at you
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yanderenightmare ¡ 1 year ago
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TODOROKI SHOTO MASTERLIST
Ranging from my top Shoto post to posts with notes above 1k.
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Darling uses sex to calm down yandere captor ! Todoroki:
DARLING INITIATING SEX ♡4k
Cock descriptions:
COCK ♡3k
What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:
SCARY YANDERE ♡3k
Boyfriend ! Todoroki headcanons:
BOYFRIEND ! SHOTO ♡2k
Poly ! BakuDekuTodo x darling thirsts:
BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡2k
BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡1k
POLY ♡1k
Prince ! Todoroki x maid ! dalring:
PRINCE x MAID ♡2k
Imagines of what happens when the darling tries to deny the BNHA ! yanderes intimacy and sex:
TODOROKI ♡2k
Shoto ! nii-san and his little sister needs to share the bed:
KINSHIP ♡2k
Yandere captor ! Todoroki reacting to pregnant darling:
PREGNANT DARLINGS ♡2k
Todoroki and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:
ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS ♡1k
Yandere captor ! Todoroki with a darling who enjoys being his darling:
DARLING ENJOYS BEING A DARLING ♡1k
Yandere captor ! Todoroki x darling with early Stockholm syndrome:
EARLY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME ♡1k
Shoto ! nii-san sneaking into his little sisters bedroom at night:
BABY ♡1k
Yandere captor ! Todoroki's need for intimacy:
INTIMATE ACTIVITIES ♡1k
Yandere captor ! Todoroki x clumsy ! darling:
CLUMSY DARLING ♡1k
How yandere captor ! Todoroki punishes his darling:
PUNISHMENTS ♡1k
Yandere captor Shoto with a depressive darling:
SELF-CONSCIOUS ♡1k
Yandere captor Shoto likes painting with his darling:
HOBBIES ♡1k
Yandere captor Shoto's sleeping habits:
SLEEPING HABITS ♡1k
Shoto bullies his crush:
PRINCESS ♡1k
BNHA genderbender:
FEM ♡1k
How Todoroki became yandere for his darling:
YANDERE BEGINNINGS ♡1k
The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:
FAMILY FUN ♡1k
What type of hybrid he is:
HYBRID ♡1k
Bestfriend Shoto drugs you at a party:
TRUST ♡1k
Yandere Shoto develops a fascination for ballerina reader:
DANCE
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Similar posts can be found in the following:
INSERT MASTERLIST
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kotton-kandy953 ¡ 6 months ago
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━ 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙳
➛ various!yandere!male oneshots x fem!reader
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title page┆word count: 2k┆warnings: cursing, description of a dead body, HEAVY blood/gore depictions, implied torture, manipulation, murder
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FRIGID ━ boyfriend ! shoto todoroki x fem ! reader
⤷ 𝕿𝕳𝕰
bloodied teenager cut his pretty, Heterochromic eyes at the red mess he had made below himself. He lifted his hand, wiping the blood off his bottom lip with his thumb.
His hands were clad in black gloves.
To not leave fingerprint evidence, maybe?
His chest rose and fell rapidly. Deep, heavy breaths escaping his lungs, the only thing keeping his tired figure going is pure adrenaline.
And the thought of his beautiful girlfriend.
Even so, the boy still felt burning hatred for the pathetic being by his feet.
With a sigh, he pulled back his hood and wiped the sweat off his forehead. His short, half white and half red hair being revealed.
He ran a hand through it, getting the two-toned locks out of his face only for them to fall back in place.
The half-and-half boy thought it was all over until the body below him began to squirm and writhe in agony.
His gaze quickly jolted to their direction, clenching his teeth in frustration.
"P- please! Spare me!!..." The person lying at the teen's feet called. The teen only stared dead at them, his eyes void with all human feelings and emotion.
He wasn't thinking straight, all he could think of was how much this person made his girlfriend happy. How they made her smile.
How they managed to comfort her when she was sad or angry.
How he wished he was the only one allowed to do that.
The more those thoughts rushed back and forth in his head, the more he lost control.
It was sending him straight over the edge.
He subconsciously clenched his left fist, smoke emanating from it.
He could care less about their pathetic pleads for mercy. About their cries as he makes their blood paint the ground red.
"...please... j- just let me go!" They shouted, choking and gargling on their own blood in their mouth. Tears streamed down their bruised face, along with blood rolling down their nose.
The boy rolled his eyes at his pleading victim. He could've sworn he had already tortured and beaten them enough for them to be bleeding out on the ground, dead — or dying, at the least.
They should've died of blood loss minutes ago, he thought with his stoic expression still present.
His face was unfazed and uninterested in their desperate weeping and begging for mercy.
Their face was bruised and broken, as if they were beaten up over and over again.
Not saying that's not what has been happening for the past few hours.
Their body was weak and it even hurt for them to breathe, but the boy could care less.
Sighing his eyes, the teenage boy finally spoke, "Shut up."
He lifted his right foot and kicked the person's stomach. They jerked in pain and coughed up more blood, knowing that they couldn't fight back against him.
The boy had the power to kill them right then and there. He could have even killed them from the start.
But he didn't.
He's going as slow as possible on purpose.
He wanted them to suffer.
To suffer for all the moments they've spent with Y/n.
To suffer for all the moments they made Shoto resent them even more.
"You've lost too much blood and you're probably in indescribable pain," The boy reached down beside their body, grabbing a large golf club he had set down not too long ago.
"You're not going to live much longer."
The boy activated his quirk on his left side, slowly heating up the metal golf club, making it flush a soft shade of red.
He lifted it up above his head with a death grip, his eyes locked on the person below him.
"So I might as well put an end to your suffering already."
• • •
You placed your phone back down onto your bed after it went back to voicemail.
What the hell, Shoto!?
It has been two, no, almost three hours since you last heard from your boyfriend Shoto Todoroki.
He had promised to arrive at your home by 2pm but now it's almost five.
"What the fuck could he possibly be doing!?" You sat down on your bed while scrolling through your contacts list until you found his.
"And why couldn't he just text me sooner to let me know that he'd be late!?"
You angrily read at the texts you spammed him only a few minutes ago. He had left you on delivered for hours which isn't very common for him.
Calm down, clam down... You took a deep breath, he probably just misplaced his phone!
Your attempts at calming yourself down worked for a little, before you started thinking of the worst possible scenarios.
But there have been many disappearances lately... you placed your phone in your jacket pocket, and everyone that's been going missing has had some sort of relation to me...
You felt your heart pounding against your chest, But that doesn't mean Shoto was kidnapped!
You slowly stood up and walked towards your bedroom door.
He would never let himself get kidnapped...
...Right?
You swung your bedroom door open and ran to your front door. You called out to your parents that you were leaving, but you left before they could even uttered a response.
I have to get to Shoto's house as fast as I can!
• • •
Shoto grunts as he swings the red, hot, golf club down onto their already bloodied  and broken body. More blood splatters on his face and black hoodie as he repeats this heinous action in cold blood a few more times.
Finally, he lifts the club and rests it on his shoulder.
"Shit..." He muttered quietly to himself, "...I must've lost track of time."
He kept his cold expression as he licked the splattered blood off his lips.
The persons face, or what was left of said person, was mangled and beaten far beyond recognition. It was just a disgusting , gory, mess.
He dropped the heated golf club onto the ground, causing it to clang loudly against the cement floor of the basement. The large club fell right beside the mutilated corpse beside his feet.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Shoto used his ice power to regulate the temperature of his body.
After doing so, he kneeled down beside the body and grabbed their wrist. He was checking for a pulse or any other signs of life.
nothing.
Finding out that they were gone, a very soft smile, crazy, appears on the boys face.
He dropped their broken wrist and stood up, his slight smile growing wider.
Once standing upright, the heterochromic eyed boy coldly stared down at the crimson mess he had made beneath his shoes.
His eyes were dark, full of resentment and zero remorse for the heinous act he had just committed.
More blood than one could ever imagine coming from another human oozed around the corpse. Shoto slowly took a few steps back to avoid staining his shoes further.
Shoto's smile softly faded as he wiped the blood off his face, only smearing it further. He slowly took his gloves off and threw them on top of the bludgeoned dead body.
He walked over to a stack of boxes and grabbed his phone, examining each and every text and call notification he received from you.
Y/n is still waiting for me at her house... he thought as he read the texts you sent.
"She's probably worried sick..." he mutters to himself, "...This took way longer than anticipated."
The heterochromic eyed male turned around and placed his phone is his pocket, preparing to leave the basement.
He glanced up at the stairs, and what he saw made him freeze in surprise.
"Sh- Shoto..." said a trembling and crying female voice. He took a step back, almost tumbling on his own two feet.
"Y/n..."
You were about to run up to your boyfriend and hug him, but what you had saw shook you to your core.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
Crimson blood was all on the floors and your boyfriend's pretty face.
And on the dead body lying only a few feet away from him.
You placed your hands on your mouth, the strong, disgusting, stench of blood made you feel dizzy.
Shoto put on his normal, neutral expression but you could tell there was an emotion he was masking behind it.
What was that masked emotion, exactly?
You didn't know.
But what you did know was that your seemingly loving boyfriend has turned into a cold-blooded monster.
You ran to the bottom of the stairs, keeping a distance between you and your bloodied boyfriend.
Tears streaked down your (s/c) face, you couldn't ever believe that he would do such things as this.
You choked back sobs as he reached his hand out to you.
"Y/n..." He begged, "Y/n, listen to me..."
Shoto started to slowly take a few steps towards you. Before he got any closer you backed away out of pure fear.
Your hands fell limp at your sides. "Wh- Why the hell should I listen to you!?" You shouted at him with clenched fists.
He relaxed his expression once more and shoved his hands back in his pockets.
He tilts his head and asks, "What are you—"
You stomped your foot to the ground, "-You know exactly what I'm talking about, dammit!!"
You paused, biting your lip as tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks.
"You went on hiatus for three goddamn hours and when I finally find you... yo- you're..." you trailed off.
"Just let me explain..." He took a step closer and you took a step back once more. You both repeated this until your back hit the wall behind yourself.
You mentally cursed yourself for not retreating up the stairs and calling for help
He reached his hand out to caress your face, you flinched at the feeling of his red-stained hand against your soft skin. He stared deep into your (e/c) eyes, his filled with pure love and adoration for you.
The way he touched and looked at you made you feel sick to your stomach. How could someone brutally murdered another human being and still manage to act as if nothing happened.
How psychotic could a person be to do that!?
"I wouldn't kill somebody without a proper reason, Y/n." He said quietly, almost a whisper.
You brought up your trembling hand and took his off your face. The more he touched you the more disgusted you felt.
"Then... then why?" You muttered, "Then why did you do it...?"
Shoto Todoroki takes note of your expression and body language.
You were deathly afraid of the boy— no, the monster standing in front of you.
He didn't want to make it worse by telling the truth. That he killed an innocent person out of pure jealousy and love for her.
That would make him sound crazy.
So he lied.
He lied to you about everything.
He sighs quietly, "The many unexplained disappearances... the one who mangles their face beyond recognition... was them."
He silently gestures to the mutilated corpse behind him.
You look beyond Shoto's shoulder, your petrified eyes rested on the brutal murder scene. You tried your hardest to resist the urge to throw up right there.
You fixed your gaze in his mismatched irises. "B- but you still murdered them without proof of them being behind this!"
He reassuringly placed a hand on your shoulder, "I do have proof, Y/n."
He glanced behind himself, "They even tried kidnapping me, Y/n."
His eyes locked with yours, "You have to believe me."
You looked him in the eyes, they were sincere and full of love. And there was no visible sign of him being dishonest.
I should trust him.
Shoto would never lie to me...
...Right?
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zeroinetoheroine ¡ 14 days ago
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Plunders of war moodboard #3
In order to inspire myself to write 😅 and finish ch.39, I made another moodboards! For Shouto and Touya 😳🥺.
Why do I always associate Shouto with doom and gloom when the seer told the reader of her and Touya 🤔
Link to ch.1
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