givemeacupofattentionplease

[givemeacupofattentionplease]

Yandere! Erasermic x GN! Reader

! unspecified gender. reader with wings mentioned !

Warning: Abduction/Kidnapping, Drugging, Physical restraint, Emotional and psychological manipulation, Non-consensual captivity. first post, sorry for any error :c

I can't get this out of my mind so I decided to just share it here. I will be editing this.

It started out so simple, so normal, just another day in the endless cycle of patrols and paperwork for Pro Heroes Shouta Aizawa and Hizashi Yamada. Aizawa, perpetually exhausted from balancing hero work and teaching, had finally caved to Yamada’s constant chatter about needing “a real cup of coffee for once.” The bustling city offered plenty of trendy spots, but Yamada’s insistence led them to a tucked-away little café near the outskirts. a quiet, cozy place with soft lighting and the warm scent of roasted beans drifting in the air.

Aizawa didn’t expect to care much about the place, just another café among hundreds, but the moment he stepped inside, his weary eyes met yours. You were behind the counter, all gentle smiles and easy laughter, the kind of barista who made every customer feel comfortable. It was a small thing, your polite greeting, the way you took his order, the way you laughed softly at Yamada’s jokes, but something in that simple warmth stuck with him.

Yamada noticed it too. While he was all bright grins and loud chatter, he’d catch the way Aizawa’s tired gaze lingered on you. At first, it was curiosity, an interest in this bright spark of humanity in their otherwise chaotic lives. But that interest quickly twisted into something else- the way you remembered their orders, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way you never seemed to judge them. everything about you. everything.

And so they kept coming back, first every few days, then every day, then sometimes twice a day. Always claiming it was just for the coffee, but deep down, both of them knew it was you. Aizawa, with his quiet intensity, found comfort in the way you asked after his day. Yamada, with his loud charm, adored the way you seemed to brighten even on his darkest days.

It was innocent, at first. Until it wasn’t. Until the thought of you being out there, alone and vulnerable in a world full of dangers they couldn’t control, started to gnaw at them both. Until the mere idea of anyone else getting to see that smile- anyone else getting to share those soft moments- became unbearable.

And then the obsession began to take root.

That simple attraction didn’t just fade away, no matter how many cups of coffee they bought or how many times they told themselves it was just a harmless crush. It festered in the quiet hours between hero patrols and late-night paperwork, twisting into something far darker. Eventually, it reached a point where they couldn’t bear the thought of you struggling in your small apartment, ( yes, they followed you home sometimes- no big deal ), scraping together wages that barely paid the bills. By their standards, it was inexcusable, someone as gentle and bright as you deserved better.

That’s what they told themselves, anyway, the night they crept into your home and spirited you away from the fragile comfort of your life. In their eyes, it wasn’t abduction, no, it was rescue. You’d be safe with them. cared for. cherished. You’d never have to lift a finger or worry about another late bill ever again.

The first thing you remembered was the disorienting fog that hung heavy in your mind, a chemical haze you couldn’t fight off as you blinked awake in a room you didn’t recognize. The soft scent of antiseptic clung to the air, blending uneasily with the gentle hum of an air purifier. You didn’t know where you were, but your instincts screamed danger. Fear prickled at your skin like static as you realized your wings felt heavier than usual, as if something were weighing them down. panic came in waves, tightening your chest as you stumbled to your feet, eyes darting around the unfamiliar space.

It was during one of those first few days, when they’d left the back door carelessly ajar, thinking they could trust you not to run, that you made your move. You managed to slip out of the door while they're busy with each other, wings spread, trembling with adrenaline and desperation, you darted toward the open sky. For a brief, exhilarating moment, freedom felt so close.

But the thrill was short-lived. Before you could clear the perimeter wall, a sharp, familiar sound snapped through the air. Aizawa’s capture weapon. how stupid of you to forget this man has that thing around. The binding scarf lashed out with brutal precision, coiling around your midsection and yanking you back like a helpless bird caught in a net. You hit the ground hard, breath knocked from your lungs, wings pinned uselessly by your other captors.

The punishment was swift. Aizawa didn’t even look angry, just tired and disappointed, his eyes dark with a silent warning as he dragged you back inside. Yamada, though his grin was softer, offered no comfort. “We’re just trying to keep you safe, little angel” he cooed, as if that could make the walls any less oppressive. they locked you in your room, a soft, cozy prison with plush blankets and a bookshelf filled with things they thought you’d like.

The property they kept you in itself is a fortress, a high concrete wall encircles the perimeter like a prison, under the pretense of “keeping you safe from harm.” But you know better. Every camera, every motion sensor, every high-tech lock serves a single purpose- to ensure you never, ever leave.

They’re heroes, of course, and teacher, so they’re away most days, saving the world one villain at a time. But even in their absence, their presence looms- silent cameras track your every move, sensors embedded in doors and windows, hidden locks you’ll never find.

They even went so far as to craft a special restrainer, an intricate device designed to bind your wings, preventing you from taking to the skies. like the first time you did. Even in the gardens, with the sun shining on your face, you feel the weight of the restrainer pressing down on your wings.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into month, before month turning into a year. the house itself seemed to shift around you, a labyrinth of surveillance and security that promised there was no escape.

but soon enough, your anger dulled. Your fear ebbed. In its place, a dangerous comfort bloomed, a fragile acceptance that maybe, just maybe, this was where you were meant to be. safe and sound in a house you are getting a little too comfortable in.

And that’s how stockholm syndrome settled in like a quiet fog. Each passing day eroded the edges of your defiance. Each shared meal, each gentle touch on your shoulder, each soft smile from Yamada’s lips or Aizawa’s tired eyes chipped away at your resolve. They’d taken your freedom, but they’d given you something else in return- a place where you were needed, wanted, loved.

No matter how soft the bed or how beautiful the flowers, there’s no denying the truth- you’re a prisoner in a gilded cage, and there’s no escaping the heroes who loved you too much to ever let you go.