#bnha yandere

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 15 Chapter 15 | gauging reactions⌟

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A satisfied smirk played on your lips as you both reached the large, white and gray bus. Iida, ever the gentleman, gestured towards the open door. "After you, Akuma-san," he said politely, stepping aside to allow you on board.

"Thank you, Iida-kun," you replied with a gracious nod, stepping onto the bus. The chatter inside immediately died down as everyone turned to stare at you. The confusion was evident. They were expecting Iida to return, not you.

"Hey, Four Eyes! The hell took you so long? Had to take a crap or somethin—" Bakugo's booming voice cut through the silence, but the sentence died abruptly on his lips as his crimson eyes landed on you. The amusement instantly drained from his face, replaced by a scowl that didn't reach his eyes. "Y/N? The hell you doin' here?"

You ignored his question, choosing instead to unleash your secret weapon—a sweet, closed-eye smile. It was a weapon you'd discovered held surprising power, especially over the other pests in your life—especially your little puppy, Bakugo.

And sure enough, a faint blush crept across Bakugo's cheeks, momentarily breaking his tough-guy facade, shutting him down. He quickly scoffed and turned away toward the window in a futile attempt to hide his flustered reaction.

Aizawa, who had been dozing in the front seat, finally stirred at the commotion. He slowly dragged himself to his feet, his hair a mess as ever. "Took you long enough, Iida," he mumbled in a monotone voice. Noticing the surprised looks on everyone's faces, he sighed dramatically.

"Alright, alright," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "Seems the message wasn't clear. Akuma-san here will be joining you on your little field trip to U.S.J. Consider it a... motivator. A chance for Class 1-A to see that they're not the only ones vying for hero licenses." His yellow eyes flickered across the students' faces, a cryptic message lingering in their depths.

There was more to this than a simple observation session; that much was clear. But what exactly? Aizawa left the unspoken question hanging in the air, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

With another tired sigh, he gestured towards the back of the bus. "Find a seat, Akuma-san. Just try not to cause too much trouble." His voice held a hint of contemptment, a silent acknowledgment of your unpredictable nature. There was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, a single beat where his gaze narrowed slightly before smoothing back to normal.

It was subtle, but it didn't escape you.

You mentally noted to be cautious around the tired-looking teacher. He might just be the first to catch on to your act. Offering a polite bow, you replied with a sugary-sweet voice, "Of course, Aizawa-sensei. I'll be on my best behavior." Turning away, you began walking down the aisle, a playful smile still plastered on your face.

Internally, however, your smile faltered.

Aizawa's suspicion was a wrinkle in your otherwise perfect plan. You'd need to tread carefully, to maintain your facade of the friendly, eager student while subtly probing for information. This unexpected hurdle only made the challenge more exciting.

A silent thrill coursed through you. You thrived on challenges, and Aizawa's suspicion just added another layer of intrigue to the upcoming trip to U.S.J.

The bus rumbled to life, carrying you and Class 1-A towards their unknown destination. Surprisingly, the atmosphere was subdued. Gone were the throngs of curious classmates eager to bombard you with questions. Instead, a tense silence hung in the air. You suspected Bakugo had something to do with it.

The moment Aizawa dismissed you to find a seat, Bakugo had taken charge, kicking his classmate Jiro out of the seat next to him with a booming "Move it, Earphones!" before gesturing curtly for you to sit. You complied readily, taking note of the simmering tension emanating from the blonde.

The subdued chatter from the rest of the class proved to be a goldmine of information. You listened intently as they discussed their Quirks, their hopes, and their anxieties. It was like eavesdropping on a live episode of a hero reality show, and you were enthralled. Right now, the group was discussing each other's Quirks.

"...Bakugo's always angry, so he'll never be that popular."

Bakugo tensed visibly, his grip tightening on the armrest, a low growl rumbling from his chest. Before he could even take time to a moment to seethe and take up for himself, another voice cut through the tension. It was the boy you remembered rescuing at the physical entrance exam—Kaminari. "Y'know, we basically just met you and haven't known each other that long. So it's amazing that everyone already knows his personality is crap steeped in sewage."

Bakugo's entire body seemed to vibrate with rage. The smell of caramel, a telltale sign of his Quirk activating, grew stronger. Veins bulged on his neck, and his crimson eyes burned with fury. "What's with that vocabulary, bastard?! I'll kill you!"

Tuning out the ensuing argument, you found your gaze drifting across the bus. Your eyes met the familiar eyes with black sclerae and yellow irises—the eyes of the girl you'd seen at the U.A. entrance exam.

Your eyes met familiar ones—black sclerae framing bright yellow irises. It was the pink girl from the U.A. entrance exam. A smirk played on your lips as you recalled how easily you'd flustered her. A simple brush of your finger against her cheek had sent her brain into a delightful overload, causing her to screech and flee.

Catching your gaze, her already pink cheeks flushed an even darker, vibrant pink. She bounced nervously in her seat, clearly battling an internal struggle of wanting to talk to you. You accentuated the invitation with a playful smile, tilting your head slightly.

That was all it took.

In a flash of pink lightning, she was hurtling towards you. She squeezed between you and Bakugo, effectively shoving the blonde further into the window and creating a comfortable space for her. Bakugo let out an enraged bark, "Mina!" but she completely ignored him.

Mina practically vibrated with excitement as she stared up at you. "Hi!" she chirped, her grin so bright it could rival the sun. "I'm Ashido Mina, but you can call me Mina!"

Bubbling over with enthusiasm, she launched into a tirade about Bakugo. "He's so mean!" she declared, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Always keeping you all to himself, acting all mysterious. What gives, right?"

For the next ten minutes, Mina became a human hurricane of questions and chatter. Every topic seemed to revolve around you, a whirlwind of curiosity about your life, your connection to Bakugo, and everything in between.

Just as she leaned, her voice filled with curiosity, "So, what's your Quirk?" a hush fell over the bus. Even those who had seemingly been engrossed in their own conversations suddenly perked up, their ears straining to catch your response.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Midoriya, quickly fumbling to pull out his phone. You knew exactly what he was doing—taking notes on your Quirk, weaknesses, anything you might reveal.

After all, throughout your middle school years, you'd kept your Quirk a closely guarded secret. The only one privy to its true nature was Bakugo. But Midoriya, with his analytical mind, probably believed it must be powerful enough to earn Bakugo's begrudging respect.

Bakugo, barked at Mina. "Mind your damn business, Pinky!" His voice crackling with irritation that anyone would dare try to get closer to you.

"It's alright, Bakugo," you said in a sugary-sweet tone. "A little curiosity never hurt anyone, right?" A pointed look in his direction effectively silenced any further protests.

Turning back to Mina, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes, you leaned in conspiratorially. Your voice dropped to a whisper, sending shivers down the girl's spine. "Well,I can't exactly tell you everything. After all, our classes are a bit... competitive, wouldn't you say?" you purred, leaving the implication hanging heavy in the air. "But what I will say is that it's very mind-blowing."

Just as you finished your cryptic sentence, the bus lurched to a halt. Aizawa's tired voice echoed through the bus. "Alright, everyone out. Time for your little observation session at U.S.J." The bus doors hissed open, revealing a sprawling complex bathed in the warm afternoon sun.

The spell was broken. The students, momentarily captivated by your words, scrambled out of their seats, their curiosity momentarily forgotten in the face of the unknown that awaited them.

"Hello, everyone! I've been waiting for you!" A voice suddenly boomed as you all were exiting the bus.

Looking over, you spot a towering figure clad in a spacesuit-inspired hero costume, bouncing over with an enthusiasm that rivaled a sugar high.

A familiar voice piped up from beside you. "It's the Space Hero, Thirteen! The chivalrous pro who's rescued a ton of people from disasters across the world!" Izuku practically vibrated with excitement.

"Woo-hoo! Thirteen is so awesome! She's one of my favorite heroes!" Uraraka, a girl with a brown bob and pink round circles on her cheeks chime in, pumping her fist in the air.

Thirteen, used to the fanatic excitement, gestured grandly towards the building behind them. "I can't wait to show you what's inside!"

The students erupted in a chorus of awes and excited chatter. You, however, remained detached, observing the scene with a practiced cool. This "training facility" felt more like a glorified amusement park.

Inside, the building was a kaleidoscope of zones—a shipwreck, a landslide, a fire simulation—all meticulously crafted to resemble real-world disaster scenarios. A collective gasp rippled through the group as they took it all in.

"Holy smokes! It looks like some kind of amusement park!" Kirishima, a redheaded boy with a rather impressive physique for you guys age, pointed at the complex with wide eyes; his muscles straining against his hero uniform.

"A shipwreck," Thirteen boomed, "a landslide, a fire, a windstorm... and so on! I created this training facility to prepare you to deal with different types of disasters. I call it the Unforseen Simulation Joint, or USJ for short!"

A few students muttered comparisons to Universal Studios Japan under their breath. You smirked, unsurprised by the uninspired name.

As Thirteen continued her introductory speech, Aizawa sauntered in, his usual stoic expression etched on his face. He stopped beside Thirteen, a brief conversation passing between them that only served to deepen the furrow on his brow.

As the two adults talked, a smart part of you wanted to eavesdrops and see what it was, but ultimately decided against it; it's not like you'll actually learn something from it.

"That man is the height of irresponsibility," Aizawa sighed, shaking his head before glancing back at the students. "The clock's ticking. We should get started." He moved aside, clearing the way for Thirteen's grand demonstration.

Thirteen raised a hand, her voice booming once more. "Excellent! Before we begin, let me just say one thing... well, maybe two things. Possibly three, four, or..." she trailed off, earning a collective sweatdrop from the student body.

As Thirteen expounded on the power and potential dangers of their quirks, emphasizing the importance of responsible quirk usage and the true essence of heroism, you found yourself stifling a yawn as your mind wandered.

Yes, quirks could be used for destruction as well as heroism, it's practically common sense, yet here you all were.

Honestly, with so many rules put in place, you couldn't help but feel like being a villain seemed like a much less tedious career choice.

Just as Thirteen finished her speech with a dramatic bow, a sudden plunge into darkness sent shivers down everyone's spine.

A dark purple mist-like portal materialized in the center of the plaza, the swirling vortex pulsating with an unnatural light. Then, figures began to emerge, their forms obscured by the shadows cast by the portal.

A collective gasp rippled through the group of students. Confusion morphed into fear as the students buzzed with questions. Kirishima leaned forward, peering curiously at the portal. "Woah, what is that thing? Some surprise training exercise? High-tech villain simulation?" he asked. "Wait, has the training started already?"

Villains?

The word echoed in your head, a foreign concept whispered in hushed tones but never truly experienced.

Ever since you woke up in this quirk-infested world, heroes were all you'd ever known. Sure, you'd seen countless reports of villains being apprehended and brought to justice, dramatic displays of power broadcasted on every news channel. But to see them here, in person, was an entirely different experience.

Your mind raced, sifting through the possibilities. A villain attack during a training exercise? Either a brilliant diversion or an incredibly reckless gamble.

Aizawa's eyes widened as the portal began to spew forth figures clad in villainous attire. "Stay back and together! Don't move!" he barked, his voice tight with urgency as he yanked on his goggles, his gaze hardening as it landed on the approaching villains. "Thirteen! Protect the students!"

Aizawa's pronouncement hung heavy in the air, shattering the atmosphere like a dropped glass.

Your focus shifted to the pro-hero. His reaction confirmed your suspicions—this was no simulation. These were real villains, a fact driven home by Aizawa's harsh glare directed at the figures emerging from the portal.

These were the outcasts, the rule breakers—the very antithesis of the heroes you'd grown accustomed to observing.

A thrill, a subtle current of excitement, snaked its way through you. This wasn't part of the plan. This was chaos, a disruption to the established order—a wrinkle thrown into the carefully constructed tapestry of your "observation session."

The portal began shrinking as all the villains—except two—spread out to the different zones. One was a large, hulking, muscular figure with skin like polished onyx, etched with a roadmap of jagged scars and an exposed brain. The other, a lanky figure with grayish-blue hair, covered in dry patches and old scars marring his pale skin; fourteen embalmed hands were strategically placed to cling to his body.

The mist-portal soon coalesced into a head with two glowing gold eyes. "Thirteen... and Eraser Head, huh? The teacher's schedule we received the other day...said that All Might was also supposed to be here." The mist spoke, a hint of amusement in his raspy voice.

A nervous tremor ran through the crowd. Your gaze, usually veiled with practiced indifference, sharpened as it flickered between the approaching villains and the faces of the students of 1-A, now etched with a mixture of fear and confusion. You subtly observed the students, gauging their reactions.

You couldn't help but smirk internally. This unexpected turn of events was far more interesting than any pre-planned exercise.

A genuine villain attack would provide a much clearer picture of Class 1-A's strengths, weaknesses, and most importantly, how they worked together under pressure.

This was exactly the kind of chaos you thrived in.

***le gasp, villians!?

[mamayan]

★SWEET★

Yandere! Dabi x Fem! Darling

Secret Santa 2023 Event!

Word Count: 4k+

Welcome to the Secret Santa Event, hosted by @ectologia (thanks for throwing this together ♡)

My Secret Santa is… @wilderuby ♥️ I hope you enjoy your Christmas present even if it’s not really Christmas themed~

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Yandere Themes • Stalking/BNE • Dubcon • Dabi • PIV • Fingering • Praise/Degradation • Kidnapping • Psychological • Dacryphilia

It keeps happening.

No matter how many times you’ve visited the local police station, or how often you knock on the door to your neighbor’s home, you keep finding them.

Innocently resting beside your head when you wake up, whether you sleep in your room, the living room, or even your bathroom, is a single red rose.

Never intact either, the delicate scarlet petals singed in one way or another, to the point now it seems to have become an art form. The dark veins running along inside the thin petals blackened until the rose takes on nearly a new color of ashen burgundy.

You went to the heroes, the police, your friends and family, and yet nothing has come about stopping it.

“It is odd but maybe it’s nothing?” Your friends had said, claiming it was seemingly harmless.

How could it truly be though? You locked your doors, all of them, from the front door to your bedroom door to putting padlocks on the windows. You’d awake to everything intact how you left it, not a single thing out of place… except the addition of a single burnt rose.

It was breaking you down mentally and emotionally at this point. Seemingly being haunted by a ghost, faceless and voiceless, no physical form to blame and scream at. You do scream though, after a year of it occurring despite all efforts—even moving to a new home in a different city. No matter what, when you wake up, there’s a rose. Whether you sleep in a hotel, your friend’s home, your parents, even on the damn subway.

There’s always a fucking rose. Every. single. morning.

It’s to the point where you stopped sleeping, staying up to see with your own eyes if you’re truly insane. You blink and it’s just there, even when you search, and search, and search. A rose, a little crispy, rests in front of you without fail.

It was possibly a new method of torture, but soon enough your nervous system no longer perceived it as a threat. You’d awake to the rose, roll over, and start your day. You stopped mentioning it to family and friends, and eventually it became as normal as breathing. You’d place the roses in a vase, comical at this point, and change them out weekly. A few you even preserved, out of sick humor more than actual appreciation. You’d be certain to mention you wanted no roses at your funeral, at least not red ones, and especially not scorched ones.

You became complacent, as you set your keys down upon entrance to your home, to see an entire bouquet of flowers resting on your kitchen counter. Singed red roses, and one singular black rose in the middle… this time there’s a card. A small folded note about the size of your palm, attached to a silken ribbon wrapped around the thin neck of the vase. Condensation slowly slid down the side of the intricate glass, and for some strange reason, your heart felt dread seeping into its core. Your blood felt icy and your farthest appendages chilled as you shakily lifted the delicate paper up. Several seconds ticked by as perspiration dotted your brow before you eventually sighed and unfolded the note.

Ready to come home, doll?

It was motionless in your home. Deathly silent and still but nonetheless your body shook as tears welled up in your eyes while the foreboding words registered with you. You were home, weren’t you? You knew that much. You also knew you’ve never been called the nickname doll a day in your life, at least by no person you knew.

Was it a joke? Your instincts screamed it wasn’t. You did a pathetic job of staying calm, dropping your keys noisily on the floor as you trembled and dropped to pick them up. You’d leave, stay somewhere else tonight and figure it out in the morning—

“Going somewhere?” You hadn’t head even a footstep. You could see in front of you now a pair a beat up leather boots. Dark jeans lazily bunched up around them with a few nicks and tears in the denim fabric. Your eyes continued up until you were staring at a man.

Bright blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, stared down at you. His skin was like patchwork, staples actually pierced through healthy looking flesh while connecting what looked like chard leather to it. His skin you realize after a moment. Some healthy, some burnt, while he stood casually over your crouched form with his hands shoved into the dark trench coat he wore over some ratty band t-shirt. You didn’t watch the news often, hardly ever since your stress was high enough dealing with your own issues, but you knew who this was.

What villain this was.

“Dabi…” you barely even breathed his name, almost inaudible despite your close proximity, but it seemed he heard just fine as a slow forming Cheshire grin spread his lips wide open, revealing his white teeth and sharp canines.

“What’s that doll? Y’look like you’ve seen a ghost, speak up, can’t hear ya down there.”

You were right to feel dread. This was likely the worst scenario possible, one you truly hadn’t even thought of. A notorious villain leaving roses for you? Who’d believe such a ridiculous thing? Even you were struggling to believe it.

“Th-the roses…?”

“Hn? Thought I said speak up.” The waning of his smile shouldn’t have your blood pressure spiking as it did, but you scrambled to speak louder as those violent blue irises blazed.

“Did you—uh, a-are the roses from you?” You slid back, nervous as he stepped forward, eye lids growing heavy as he settled for a smirk on his lips.

“Bingo.” He confirms, not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his laxidazical tone.

You heart hammered against your ribcage, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the bouquet on the counter, mind running faster than a hamster in a wheel. He seems fine just staring at you, expression unreadable besides shallow amusement. He’s giving you time to think, and something in your gut is telling you to tread with caution.

What does it mean to leave roses for over a year for you, every single day? No matter how difficult it was made to do?

Someone in love or someone with a grudge. He doesn’t look the part for either, but the bouquet and strange note having you leaning towards some kind of affection for you. However disturbingly he shows it.

Swallowing thickly, nails scraping on the tile floor, you give a wobbly smile.

“T-they’re very pretty… thank you.”

His eyes briefly widen, head tilting as he observes you with a keener interest than before.

“Yeah? Y’like ‘em, doll?” Doll, that nickname again, you wonder if that’s how he refers to you in his mind. You never likened your appearance to a doll.

You nod with a short jerk, smile still plastered even as your bottom lip wobbles minutely.

“I-I do,” it’s more nerve wracking to be staring up at him from the floor, so you make a show of moving incredibly slow, standing on fawn like legs as you reorient yourself with your own feet again. “You gave me a bouquet this time…” even standing you’re forced to tilt your head back to look at him.

“I did.” He confirms, and the sweat sliding down your spine begins to cool as you shiver. You keep wetting your dry lips, struggling to truly grasp how you’re supposed to get the hell out of this situation.

He seems to visibly enjoy your panic and nervous ticks, watching you pick at your nail bed while he makes you stew in confusion and unanswered questions.

What do you do when the country’s top villain stands in your kitchen? You don’t have a quirk that can compete with him and you sure as hell regret squandering the times your friend encouraged learning some self defense.

He’s not in a hurry it seemed either, leaning a hip against your counter while he continues to observe your every movement. His presence made the space around you appear smaller, like he was sucking the energy from the room.

“Are you…” you look down at your feet, “…going to kill me?”

He snickers, catching your gaze again as it flicks up briefly.

“Nope.” He pops the p with a smile.

You don’t feel relieved.

“Are you going to hurt me?” A better question in all honesty.

“Maybe, probably.” He admits casually, shrugging as if it can’t be helped.

Then the best question for the evening, one still festering in your mind, “Why me?”

The air shifts, the scent of smoke like a campfire, wafting over to you.

“Asked myself that question a lot,” he stands up straight, removing his hands from his pockets. He ignores your flinch, coming closer even as you backed up into the counter. “Asked what the fuck is so special ‘bout you,” he jabs a finger into your chest, eyes flaring as he immediately flattens his palm and lays it over your heart. “To make me like this.”

He smells like campfire and something with chemical undertones, his breath held traces of menthol and tobacoo.

“Y’know what conclusion I came to sweetheart?” The way he said sweetheart was laced with venom.

He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“W-what?” You don’t really have an option but to ask. He looks manic, languid expression sharpening into something dark and terrifying as he smiles.

“That it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. That I can do whatever the fuck I want, when I want, how I want. Not you, the heroes, or the shitty cops can do a damn thing to stop me.” He leans back, face melting again into something akin to pure satisfaction.

“Why you? It’s your own fault, doll, should’ve tried harder not to catch my attention, don’t’cha think?” It’s like he’s mocking you, eager to get a rise from you as anger and humiliation burned in your soul.

You shook in rage. Fists clenched at your sides as you urged the tears in your eyes away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry like this.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He laughs as you bite out the insult, a deep belly laugh, nearly doubling over as if you’d told the funniest joke possible.

“Wrong move,” he fakes at wiping a tear, eyes crinkling at the corners before your scalp is suddenly on fire, a gasp yanked from your lips as you're hauled up and back to the floor. “Said I’d probably hurt ‘ya, didn’t think you’d sass me so early. That’s okay, I’m good at breaking people, fix that mouth real quick.” He murmurs, as if he’s not using your hair like a lead and making the tears you’d fought back so hard earlier fall.

“Hurts!” You grunt, now putting up a decent struggle as you fight back.

He ends that quick with a flick of his palm, blue flames lighting up your darkened kitchen and striking horror into your soul as he waves it around in your face.

“Think I won’t do it ‘cuz I won’t kill ‘ya?” He asks, his eyes matching the flames he produces, filled with a sick sort of glee.

“I’ll make your face look like mine if you keep acting up.” That shuts you down quickly, going limp even as he releases your hair to grip your arm, dragging you through your home with confidence to where everything is, going straight to your bedroom.

“W-wait—! Dabi please, I-I’m sorry,” he stops in your doorway, looking down at you with over-exaggerated sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he coos, no less gentle as he drags you to the bed and pushes you down. It’s a gentle landing, but your panic gives you energy as you try to quickly crawl away. He grips your ankle, his palm heating so quick you hardly realize you’d been burned until you screech, teeth clenched tight as you struggle to even breathe. It hurts so much.

Your will to fight ends as he climbs above you, shrugging off the trench coat and yanking his t-shirt over his head while grinning at you.

“Too early for cryin’ doll, that one won’t even scar.” He looks disappointed by that fact. “Now, I can be nice ‘n sweet if you’ll be good for me…or I can push your fucking face in the mattress and take you like a filthy whore. Pick or I’ll pick for you.” His shift in tone as he tells you to choose how he’s going to rape you instills a strange sort of hopelessness inside you.

He doesn’t care when the water works start up again, rolling his eyes as he watches you weep and tremble like he’s done anything worth crying over yet to you.

“Well babydoll? I’m so fuckin’ hard right now you won’t like the choice I make for you.”

“Sweet…” you’re all curled up like a kitten doused in water beneath him.

He’s unbuckling the belt around his hips, tugging the denim down and his boxers along with it as he grunts.

“C’mere” he all but growls, yanking you up again and pulling at your clothing, quick and efficient in stripping you despite your actions mimicking the nickname he’s given you. Acting like a doll in his embrace as he tosses each article of clothing you wore off to the floor until you were down to your bra and panties. He’s yanking at your bra first, eyes greedily drinking you in as he leaves your top bare finally.

You sniffle pathetically, any attempt at hiding yourself useless as he uses his knees to knock yours open, fitting himself in between as he messily licks two fingers and shoves aside your panties to rub at your folds.

“Hgn!” Your eyes open wide as he crassly works two fingers into your dry cunt, his saliva barely enough to grant him access to the tight confines. “D-Dabi—,” your nails are digging into his arms, tearing at a seam of staples and causing a few small trails of blood to stream, but he’s too focused on you to truly mind.

“Y’asked for sweet doll, means you need to relax and let me in,” he explains, like he’s not stretching you open and jabbing his thick digits inside you despite your weak protests and groans of pain.

Your body gives way to the intrusion after a few minutes, adrenaline fading and leaving you almost exhausted as your cunt lubricates itself to ease his passage.

“There ‘ya go,” he murmurs almost hoarsely, letting you go when he sees you’re being obedient enough and using that freed hand to grip his leaking cock.

Your eyes track his movement, watching him grasp the thick appendage hanging heavy between his legs.

You note before even his size the piercings, not just one or two but a multitude lined his cock like a weapon more than a sexual organ.

Dabi notes the hitch in your breath and where your eyes lay, proudly running his thumb over the ladder of piercings up the spine of his shaft to the tip where two small stainless steel balls rested.

“Scared?” He teases, relaxing himself as he jerks his cock and relieves a little of the ache which had been building in his balls. Curling his fingers up, you gasp in surprise at the pleasant feeling which accompanies the action.

“Nah, you ain’t scared, doll. Not a coward, y’would’ve run a long time ago but you stayed ‘cuz you like this. You like knowing someone is out there willing to do anything to have you,”

“I don’t—,” he cuts you off with a sharp thrust up, pressing into the rough textured spot along your gooey walls.

“Shh, y’should know I don’t like liars, especially not ones who get exposed by their cunt dripping all over the bed.” His smile is filthy, lecherous gaze running along your sweaty exposed skin as he just keeps hitting that spot inside which makes your toes curl.

“P-please stop, Dabi I can’t—,”

“Still lying?” He asks, more amused than angry as you try your best to twist away from the pleasure now wracking your body.

“How’s this doll? You drop the Dabi bullshit n’say Touya when you’re about to cum, okay? Y’listening?” He stops working himself over, freeing his hand again to tap your cheek and catch your clouded watery gaze.

“Try it out.” He orders softly, sweetly, like he’s trying to be gentle but the way his fingers fuck you is anything but sweet or kind. The loud lewd squelching exactly as he said earlier, a confession to how much your body at least enjoyed his careless attention.

You huff, mouth opening to choke on a moan as he adds another finger, fingers wrapping around his wrist where they attempt to halt the sudden oversensitivity inside you.

If anything he jams his fingers inside you harder.

“T-Touya!” You hope he’ll stop. Hope he ends this strange psychological torture as your stomach coils up tight.

He doesn’t, Dabi merely groans in delight and chuckles over you, leaning down to slot his lips over yours in a kiss as messy as he’s making you down below.

His soft top lip is contrasted by the rough feeling of his bottom, but his kiss is hot and you can taste the menthol now. His scent is strong, and you catch a hint of his natural odor beneath the smoke and tobacco. Your cries are silenced by his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you open to complain. You shiver as you feel the drag of a piercing on his tongue, the light touch somehow more erotic. He parts sloppily, saliva connecting your lips for a moment before you flinch as he spits in your mouth.

“Open your fucking mouth.” The tone he uses and language are harsh, and you tearily do as instructed. “Stick out your tongue.” He murmurs a bit more nicely this time, humming in approval as you obey with shaky hesitation.

You won’t hesitate soon enough, if he has anything to do about it. He’ll make his words gospel in your cute brain and have you eager to listen to his every command.

Dabi lets his spit hit your tongue slowly, watching you pant like a dog with your tongue out as he brings you closer and closer to your release. The way your walls clamp around his fingers and constrict makes his cock weep to sink inside you already. “Touya—!”

You cum when he finally allows you to swallow, gushing and throwing your head back while he fucks you through it, laughing as you tense up and beg for mercy and try to escape the pleasure he’s delivering relentlessly.

“Good fuckin’ girl, say my name baby, let me hear it.” Dabi nearly loses it himself watching you shatter, eyes wide and wild as he keeps going. “Touya pl-please…hn!” You keen almost like you’re in pain, fingers digging into his shoulders now while your legs kick out.

“Y’asked for sweet, doll, means you get to cum as much as you want tonight.”

That wasn’t what you’d thought it meant, even as you choke and cum again, this time more softly as he slows his furious pace to something manageable now.

Dabi smiles at the fucked out expression you now wear, pliant in his hold as he maneuvers your body, hoisting your legs up and pressing them to your chest as you whimper in protest.

“You can stay nice ‘n pretty like this doll, doing so good f’me.” He’s not very assuring as he murmurs to you while positioning the weapon he’s armored on his cock at your dripping entrance, tapping his tip a few times on your puffy clit as you moan and twitch, view perfect to watch how he slicks himself up. “T-Touya…” he moans as he catches on your entrance only to slip up, eyes looking at your face as he licks his lips and tries again, enjoying the soft warm feeling of rubbing on your cunt.

“Yeah doll? Need somethin’?” He grins, his cock finally breaching that tight ring of muscle that lets him sink into your hot welcoming depths. “Fuck, been dreaming ‘bout this cunt for so long. Y’know how many times I’ve had to just cum on your sleeping face instead of fucking you? All the times I could’ve just woken you up and had you?” He moans, laughing at the horrified and almost strangled look you gave him, his chest vibrating with a laugh as you mewl like a cat in heat when the first row of piercings sinks into you. “Like ‘em baby? Fuckin’ looks like you do, they feel good in your little pussy?” He moans again when you accidentally bare down on him, the tightness increasing painfully as you whine when his piercings dig in too much.

“Easy doll, let me in,” he murmurs, dark hair falling into his face as he braces above you with one arm, lithe muscles taunt as he works his hips a little at a time into you, enthralled with how you fit around him enough not to slam himself inside all at once.

When the top balls of his piercings kiss up against your cervix, you’re ruined, face a mess as you struggle to adjust to the stretch and sensations.

“S’too much, Touya—” you can only cling to him, eyes drawn to where he’s sunk his entire fat cock into your depths, the way your body contorted giving you the best view.

Your words have the opposite effect though, his groan guttural as he drags himself out, drunk on the feeling of your pussy and lost to it.

“Keep sayin’ my fuckin’ name, lemme hear ‘ya scream babydoll,” you go to protest again, when he slams each inch back into you, the ribs along his cock now working in tandem with his thrusts, effectively shutting you up as you squeal and dig your nails into his shoulders for purchase.

Dabi fucks you hard and deep, speed unnecessarily to keep the air from your lungs as each thrust feels like it’s hitting up in your stomach, the pain and pleasure blending until you aren’t sure if it truly hurts or not.

He sets a steady rhythm, watching your body shake each time he lets his hips fall like a hammer, seeing his cock swallowed each time by your greedy cunt until he’s delirious at the sight.

“Pretty fucking slut, look how your pussy takes me.” He’s spewing filth at you, but when it should offend, it instead makes you burn hotter, his name falling from your swollen pouty lips like a chant.

“This cunt want me to breed it? Fill your pussy full until you can’t take anymore?” You shake your head in denial, unable to truly form words anymore as he picks up his pace, fucking you hard enough to make your headboard slam into the wall. Each thrust accompanied by a symphony of wet slapping, his balls tapping your ass each time his groin kisses your own. “Bet it does, huh doll? This greedy little cunt keeps begging for more.” He loves the dichotomy between your sloppy pussy and the way you shake your head. “No? Y’sure doll? Think it does. Don’t like lyin’ baby, remember? You want me to punish you?” You shake your head again, a bit frustrated when he slows, letting you feel all of him inside you like this, his weight keeping you pinned.

“Shakin’ your head ain’t an answer doll, I’ll be nice ‘n give you another chance, but I expect a fucking a verbal answer this time.” He’s like a light switch. Either on or off but much more terrifying when he flips it on, eyes and voice menacing as you cough and answer in a husky voice. You don’t want to test him on the punishment, truly you don’t, as your ankle still fully throbs in the back of your mind as a reminder of what he’s capable of and who he is.

“I-I like h-how you do it now…” he cocks a brow, sinking deep and then pressing even further so you whine and try to push back further into the bed.

“Y’like how I’m fuckin’ you now? That it, doll?” You go to nod before remembering his warning, swallowing thickly and voicing a soft agreement.

“Hmm… then y’oughta say it, right? Tell me how good I’m fuckin’ this pussy.” He growls, bright blue eyes lighting up as you moan, his pace increasing again as you blabber out whatever nonsense you can to satisfy him. Whatever would make him be sweet, because you have a feeling you don’t want him any other way.

“S-so good! Mhn, f-feels so good Touya, pl-please, ah,” he’s being too rough, your eyes watering and tears spilling as he drills into you, but even still you feel yourself close to coming again as those piercings rub perfectly inside you.

Dabi lifts up, letting your legs fall to either side of him as he grips both your hips tight and fucks you more aggressively. Jackhammering into your gummy walls like he’s eager to imprint the shape of his cock inside you, mouth open and brows furrowed while he groans feeling you tense up again, this time around his dick.

“T-Touya—! M’coming, oh fuck—!” You look painfully suprised when you realize how much it all becomes as you cum, the peircings becoming more prominent as you spasm and clamp down on him, eyes rolling back as your vision slightly blurs.

“Yeah y’are doll, fuck, that feel good? Looks like it did.” He chuckles, chest swelling with a deep satisfaction as he fucks you harder despite your weak whines, overstimulated cunt begging for a break despite how he bullies himself inside you.

“Tell me where you want it,” he’s close, panting and overheating even as he nears his end.

“N-not inside…” he laughs at the soft reply, thrusts only getting deeper as he resorts to simply humping into you for friction after you tighten up so much it hurts to go harder.

“Can’t pull out though doll, look how tight you’re gripping my cock.” You aren’t paying attention, mindlessly moaning as he finally gasps and cums, cock twitching deep inside you and filling you up despite your earlier request.

He nearly collapses on you, chest rising and falling quickly as he regains his breath and relaxes on your soft chest for a moment to recouperate.

When he’s caught his breath, he leans up, slowly pulling out and watching his heavy load immediately spill from your hole.

“Tsk,” he uses two fingers to scoop up what dribbled out, stuffing it back into you as you sleepily huff and press a hand against his chest.

You’re helpless to stop him, too exhausted to fight more and figuring it better to let him have his way than risk his wrath right now.

Once he’s satisfied he’d stuffed you back up well enough, Dabi is quick to leave the bed and begin redressing, speaking casually with you despite your lack of answering.

You watch the villain act as if nothing had occurred, face the same smug arrogant grin when you’d first spotted him.

It’s when he returns his attention to you that fear begins to trickle back into your blood stream.

He seems to notice too, smile growing with your apprehension.

“Now doll,” he crosses back to where you’ve sat up and covered yourself with a blanket, weary gaze locked with his.

“Ready to come home?”

Then it’s dark, your vision going out with your consciousness as Dabi catches you in his arms, dragging your limp figure from the bed and into his arms quickly.

He’s kind enough to wrap you in a sheet as he takes your house keys and phone, shoving them in his pocket as he leaves your place with you in his embrace.

He whistles on his way home, a bit eager to see your expression when you wake.

He figures you’ll learn to like your new home once you realize you’re never leaving it.

He even decorated for the season, the tree a little burnt but he’s sure you’ll appreciate the sentiment.

Dividers/@cafekistune

[hotwings0203]

Needed to get possessive alpha bakugo off my chest, ill prolly write a sequel to this tmrw cuz i got some ideas

Tw: noncon, omegaverse

thinking about childhood possessive bakugo who's pined for his omega since she joined the pack Time after time again since you were kids he'd always tried to get close to you, using a number of strange to threatening courting techniques. It was benign at first when you both were young, with him jumping up the large apple tree to get you the juiciest fruit you could never seem to reach, but when you two grew older and played together with the rest of the pack, his efforts seemed more...possessive.

He'd always single you out and force you to be on his team, following up with growling at you whenever you'd run more than a few paces in front of away from him. His sleek gold and black coat would brush up against you constantly, as if only touching you would satiate his desire for your proximity. Bloodred eyes would glare at you when you'd shyly back away at dinnertime, opting to sit away from his intense gaze.

Not like he'd let you get that far.

When it would come time for bathing with your sisters, somehow, everytime you'd be out of the loop and would end up being forced to wash yourself on your own in the cold water.

Little did you know your sisters were not-so-kindly encouraged to not communicate their congregation to you by a certain fiery alpha.

And so when everyone was by the fire, barking out laughter and telling stories of their weekly hunt, you'd sulk to the riverside by yourself, clutching your towel over your shivering body as youd sink closer in the shallow water.

You wanted to get it done as fast as possible so you could join your pack in merry-making, haphazardly scraping dirt off your paws and washing the crevices between your ears.

But as soon as you take a step towards the lush bank, you hear a heavy splash behind you.

You whip around, ears drawn back immeditaley after seeing the alpha who shamelessly follows you around like he's already claimed you.

"W-whatre you doing here? Everyone's by the..fire..." you trail off unsurely as his spiked-up wet mane shakes in laughter. His lack of concern for the reprimands he'll undoubtedly recieve for being this physically close to you send faint warning alarms at the back of your head. Usually he glowers at you and turns tail, but this is new.

"I thought the pack leaders told you to leave me alone," your lip wobbles as your tone borders on fear and indignation. Your brothers had always kept you safe from him, snarling and hiding you behind their tall legs whenever he was around. Bakugo never seemed to give up though, his own flashing teeth and sick grin mirroring their own worry pulled back from their lips.

"Yeah? But you're here though."

You swallow hard and hope he doesn't hear your whimper as you splash backwards towards the bank, but his low grumble of pleasure upon smelling your sweet fear-omones says otherwise. It proves to him that you're not as immune as your other brothers swear you are to protect yourself against him, theyre actually worried for a reason.

They know you'd never stand a chance against him.

And his muscles do ripple amid the water as he steadily stalks towards you, leering as he licks his canines and trains his eyes on your feeble form.

It seems like as fast as you flail backwards towards unseen safety, he advances twice as fast, and within seconds your back hits a hard and scratchy surface.

Bakugo chuckles a humorless laugh as you've nestled yourself in a nice, private corner away from the mainland where everyone can see you. You've backed both of you into an enormous concaved treetrunk, one that circles around 10ft and only one opening...

which you've trapped yourself in.

The roots of various plants that have grown inside this hollowed out trunk provide little cushion as you whimper and try to desperatley climb the walls.

"When are you gonna give up?"

His voice is low, raspy with mixed want and bitterness.

"S-stop, stay away from me or I'll call for h-"

"When are you gonna realize you can't escape me?" He harshly whispers right at your ear as he lunges toward you, causing you to squeal with terror.

He nips your soft ear and inhales your neck, craning his own to get a good look at the sensitive unclaimed part of your neck.

His hands grip your sides and mold the squishy parts as though they were dough, his greediness increasing exponentially as he lowers his drooling mouth to your ear and laves his wet tongue over the planes of your neck and shoulder.

You begin to shake and sob, never having been dealt with him actually touching you and being a victim to his lust. You've taken the protection of your brothers for granted, and oh how you wish you could softly howl out if you had the courage to ask for help.

But the blonde's presence itself is enough of a threat to your life and safety, that much being made clear as his hands grow claws, no doubt his physical appearance shifting from being so riled up. Your skin prick and cuts as his nails jab harder into you, his hands roaming up and down your back, feeling your hips and ghosting over the swell of your ass as well as chest.

You writhe against him which unbeknownst to you, pushes your naked chest out against his own shredded pecs, your pebbled nipples grazing his toned skin and practically making his eyes roll back in efforts not to pin you down and take you like his bitch.

"I just wanted to wash," your voice comes out pleading, and meek. You have no idea how he'll react to you being aggressive and defensive against his assault even if you had the courage to speak out against him.

"And I want to claim you as my omega," he growls directly in your ear, causing you to whine again and cower your head beneath his hounding mouth. "But I guess we'll both have to wait for what we want, huh?"

He knows you know.

You have to know.

Have to have known how badly he wants you, wants to hear your voice ring high with laughter like you do teasing your sisters, wants to hear your playful growls as you wrestle with your brothers who let you win just to see you swish your tail with prowess. He wants to feel you rest your head on his chest, wants to see you look up at him with security and ease, knowing that he's there to protect and love you.

But how can he explain that, with years of nothing but threatening looks and yards of distance between you two?

If it brings you familiarity and perhaps ease of seeing him as you've always thought to have known him, as a brute with nothing on his mind apart from taking you like an animal and conquering you, then he'll save the monologuing for later.

"After all," he heaves in the darkness of the seclusion, voicing his thoughts, "your birthday's coming up, right? You'll be of age to be claimed."

He thrusts his knee in between your trembling legs, pushing your shoulders down while following with his head and never letting his mouth rise above your unclaimed mark. You gasp as he begins grinding his knee in circles against your hooded clit, bouncing you lightly to evoke whatever sweet noises he can from your pursed lips.

You choke and sputter, suddenly grasping around his neck for leverage as you try to pull yourself up, but you're no match for him as it only serves to prove his point and enrage him from your constant rejection.

You can lie to him all you want, but your body never will.

"And trust me, little girl, when that cunt ripens for me to take, when that neck fucking sings for me to lay my mark-"

Your voice cracks into a howl as he takes one of his hands and squeezes the fat of your tit while the other spanks your jiggling ass on his knee, feeling whiplash from the onslaught of sensations.

"-I can promise you, there's no running. There's no cowering behind your brother's legs like some fucking baby, there's no using your sisters as an excuse to turn your face away from me."

Bakugo presses you tight against the wall, smothering you chest-to-chest with him and using the confined space to rut his naked erection against your thigh, his hips snapping forward and chasing years of needed release in your presence.

"I'll tie you down on my bed, face down ass-up and breed you as my bitch. I'll take you bent over and wrapped around me against every surface and floor of our secluded cave."

You blubber as you can feel yourself coming to a high, the water splashing obnoxiously at your humping against each other. In an effort to keep your pride, you try as hard as you can to grit your teeth and delay your orgasm, but he seems to catch on pretty quick.

"And then," he drops your tit and uses both hands to pry your asscheeks apart, impaling you impossibly closer down on the hard bone of his knee, your clit grating deliciously as his leg vibrates and flexes from moving you back and forth, up and down, any direction he can get your teeth to latch onto your lip and pussy clench on nothing.

"Then, you won't have to hide that pretty voice anymore. I'll get those years of silence back in exchange for your screams for help."

At this, he hugs you flush against the wall and himself as you shake from your orgasm, the water rippling at your reaction.

"So if I were you, I'd be grateful for any solitude from now on. Because you won't be getting it anymore."

[kiame-sama]

Of Cats And Hawks- (Yandere!Hawks x Reader) pt 3

Warnings; yandere behavior, yandere relationship, yandere temperament, possessive behavior, various animal courtship behavior, perverse Hawks, NSFW themes and content, nesting behavior, item theft, scent kink, oral (fem receiving), tail pulling, feathers, bit of a masochist Hawks,

~~~~~~~~

"Just like that..!"

The voice panted and huffed in exhilaration, hands working tirelessly to get everything he needed how he needed it. It was almost a frenzy of movement as the soft sound of fabric sliding against fabric could be faintly heard. Each desperate breath working on getting that scent and drowning in it like some sick degenerate.

He is a sick degenerate.

As far as Keigo was concerned, he was a filthy and depraved lunatic when compared to you and how calmly you seem to have approached it all. Countless hero centered magazines put the two of you in the headlines and numerous fan-clubs did analysis of the potential conflict the two of you would endure as a couple. Keigo was thrilled to have claimed you so obviously and had been working ever since your last meeting.

Keigo had more things to do, but he did allow himself a nice recreational distraction every now and again. Buying clothing your size and grabbing whatever he can from your room while you weren't there, replacing your old clothes with the new ones and hoping you don't notice. Taking your scent soaked clothes back to his apartment to add to his current shrine, as unconventional as it was.

"Smell so good..! Make me lose my mind..!"

Keigo groaned into the clothes he held up to his face, drinking in your natural scent and moaning in bliss. After another long inhale, he lovingly wove it into his current obsessive project. His sparse and near dismal apartment was already rather barren compared to how others thought he lived, so it wasn't like the odd nest was in the way of anything.

Nesting was a new behavior, even for Keigo, and he was curious to see just what this new development did for him. He had approached the hero association about it- seeing as they controlled almost every part of his life- and their response was not as he expected. Instead of making him remove his dearest darling from his life, they encouraged him to advance the relationship. Having been given the all-clear to push the relationship forward, Keigo found himself nesting.

The nest itself was an amalgamation of clothing, pillows, and blankets. Despite how garish or gaudy some may find it to be, Keigo thought it was beautiful. He was especially pleased with the many colors that were in it, vaguely understanding that it was likely a bird instinct that demanded the multitude of colors.

"Need you so much...!"

He panted softly and nuzzled his face against the clothing that he had so lovingly woven into his nest, his wings fluttering rapidly behind him. It was during this affectionate display that a knock came at his door, breaking through his concentration sharply. The silence that followed almost made him believe that whoever it was went away before there was another knock followed by a familiar voice.

"Keigo? The others sent me to check up on you. You haven't been to the agency in days and no one has heard from you since."

Oh, Darling, there you were.

Did you know he has been waiting for you anxiously to arrive? Did you know that he was building this fantastic nest for you? Did you come to help soothe the itching and frustrating ache inside of him? Did you see how many colors were in his nest just for you?

"Keigo," your voice called again, spurring the Hawk hero to stand and rush to the door, "say something so I know you are okay."

When he threw the door open, you clearly had not expected him to rush forward to see you. Your tail was fluffed and your ears were back as Keigo pulled you inside, slamming the door behind the two of you loudly. Your eyes easily adjusted to the dark of his home and you tried to take in as much as you could about the situation despite the sudden way you entered the room.

"Please... Help... Please, I need... I need help..!"

You felt genuine concern hearing how out of breath and frantic Keigo seemed at that moment. Usually Keigo was very level headed and confident as the hero Hawks, but something about his tone sounded truly pitiful to you as he hung onto you and whimpered like an injured animal. It was then another scent registered to your mind, one that was sharp and intense. Your brain recognized it almost immediately as pheromones coming from Keigo, and those pheromones told you just what exactly he needed help with.

You had agreed to try a relationship with Keigo and it wasn't far into that relationship when you learned how you were the only truly stable partner he has ever had. He told you about the Hero's Association and how he had been drafted in as only a child, meaning you were the only support Keigo had in and out of the hero world. Though the Association did attempt to have you keep an eye on Keigo, you refused to be another spy in his life.

Keigo was whining and slowly grinding his hips against you, letting you feel the rather hard erection he had as he continued to whimper softly. His hands were clinging to you desperately and he panted heavily in your ears, feeling almost feverish to the touch.

You took a moment to decide what you wanted to do, and the obvious choice was the one you settled on.

"Such a bad birdy," your voice was a soft croon, "already ready to go and here we both are, far too dressed for this situation."

The second Keigo actually registered your words, you felt his feathers rip through the clothes you were wearing. You knew he had stolen a fair portion of your clothes as the ones he replaced them with were covered in his scent, but you knew now why he so desperately wanted them. Each piece of clothing he had taken was woven into his nest and even as the scraps of what you wore fell to the ground around you, his feathers tried to weave the scraps into the nest as well.

Keigo fell to his knees and gripped your thigh, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder as he buried his face between your plush thighs. His tongue was hot as it wormed its way into your soft folds, slurping and lashing against you. You couldn't help the surprised gasp as Keigo almost viciously worked you over with his tongue.

His wings slowly came up, feathers moving from where they were to lift you up, holding your legs spread for the blond. Keigo looked like a wild animal as he crouched between your legs, eyes rolled back as he shoved his face against you, refusing to pull back for air. You whined and gripped his hair, feeling one of his hands suddenly grip the base of your tail and give a light tug.

He pushed two fingers into you, working your hot hole open enough to add a third finger. Each pump of his fingers was accented with a light tug at your tail, leaving you mewling in pleasure. The sensation of him pulling your tail, working you with his tongue, and sliding his fingers into you had you cumming roughly, holding his head with your hands as you whined and rocked your hips.

Despite how early in the relationship it was for you, you also felt sorry for Keigo and the state he was in. You knew very well how hormones from your animal quirk impacted the way you reacted to certain situations. Clearly Keigo was pleased as he kept his face buried between your thighs and worked almost tirelessly to lap up the plentiful juices your body provided.

"That's enough," you panted, pulling a desperate Keigo away from your weeping folds, "no more for you."

"N-no! No, please! Please, I need-!"

"No more standing, Keigo. You built a nest for a reason, right?"

His golden eyes were almost completely black with how his pupils were blown wide and dilated. Of course, once your words registered to his hormonal mind he was throwing you down onto the plush nest he built for the two of you. Most of your missing clothes were present in the nest along with any blankets Keigo had to his name. He clearly spent quite a lot of time on the nest and had likely been building this nest since he had last come into work.

He climbed on top of you much like a predator stalking up on his prey, his wings were flared to either side of his body as he panted heavily. Something about the way Keigo looked- wild and untamed- sparked interest in your mind as you let the red-winged hero run his hips against yours. Every thrusting motion slid his hot cock through your folds, slicking him up with your juices.

"Soft 'n good... So warm..!"

Keigo was nearly drooling as he continued to rut his hips, whining from the blissful sensation running through him. His hands were kneading your soft breasts and his lips roamed over your warm skin all while he continued to whine and gasp. He still didn't enter you as he struggled to line himself up, doing what he could to not have to pull his hands away from your soft figure.

"Keigo," you almost growled in frustration at the lack of contact, wanting to reach down and grab him yourself, "just... get in, damn it..!"

He finally managed to angle himself well enough to prod at your weeping hole, pressing into you with a loud groan of pleasure. You gripped his shoulders tightly as that thick length bullied its way inside of you. The stretch almost seemed like it would be too much for your soft body to handle. It was only when he bottomed out that you realized he wasn't just thick, but he was long too.

"F-fuck! So good..!"

Keigo actually was drooling at this point as he gasped and tried desperately to keep himself still. Regardless of how clouded his mind was by instinct and pleasure, he still kept in mind how fragile you possibly were. Holding himself still was proving to be a difficult task but one he was dedicated to.

"Move..!" You gasped and tried to slightly adjust your hips, "Move, Keigo..!"

The hawk hero didn't need to be told twice as he set a quick and brutal pace, his wings spread and flapping behind him. Your hands were buried in the feathers along his wings, pulling a few as you held to the feral hero. Similarly, Keigo's hands were busy roaming your body and pausing to palm your soft flesh appreciatively.

It was only when Keigo gripped your tail and gave a particularly rough tug that you became much more vocal. You let out a yowling moan as he continued to tug and toy with the appendage, claws sinking into his wings. Keigo moaned deep and rumbling sounds as he continued to tug your tail, relishing the sound of you yowling for him so sweetly.

"Good-! Good kitty..! Claw me up, pretty kitty, please..! Fuck, I need you to do it!"

Soon his pleas became breathless babbling and appreciative moans as you did exactly what he was begging for. All he could do at that point was hold your tail and piston his hips into you wildly until he could no longer move. Everything he wanted and a precious lover the Heroes Association actually allowed, it was all he could ever ask for. Well, the current sex was great too, but he hoped it would be an ongoing arrangement.

Keigo could feel the way your walls tightened up around him and he lost all sense of self. The quick witted and resilient hawk hero was little more than a mindless slave to the feel of your body and sound of your voice. Truly nothing mattered to him beyond pushing you into as many orgasms as he could wring from you.

He knew you could handle it well enough. After all, you were his feral Street Cat.

[thecuriousquest]

Oooh! I just loved your recent platonic yandere katsuki work! Would you consider making a sort of part 2? To how they'd be treated there after and what would happen when they have to return? Thank you!❤️

Have no Fear, Nii-Chan’s Here Part Two

Tag List: @issamomma

Part One here.

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, platonic Yandere big brother, mentions of punishment spanking, over protective big brother Katsuki, possessive/controlling tendencies

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

Bakugou adores you in his own way. He’s gruff and rough around the edges, but there is a spot for you in his heart. You’ve spent almost a year with him now, and ever since you gave in that day at the pool and started calling him “Nii-chan”, things have been a lot easier between the two of you.

He watches over you and protects you from bad things or bad people. You have learned to live with this aspect of your host. Keeping the peace is what’s most important to you because you don’t want to relive the pool incident again. Never again.

You still rub your knee when you get in trouble with your Nii-chan. For the majority, you’re very well-behaved, but you’re still a growing teenager. You can’t be perfect 100 percent of the time. Katsuki always begins with a lecture. How you respond depends on if he needs to up your punishment. Usually, you’re in tears well before he finishes screaming your ear off. Only on the rare occasions of your defiance does he feel the need to take things a step further and secure your obedience. This is usually done with a very early bedtime or a spanking. Nii-chan has only had to spank you twice because his hand is so powerful in making you submit to his will.

Big Brother Katsuki is a major part of your life now, but with only one week left of your stay at the Bakugou household, you find him in a rather irritated and solemn mood. His hugs are longer as if he can’t stand letting you go.

“I’m gonna FaceTime you, and you better answer if you know what’s good for you.” The threat is a mask, but you can still hear the hurt behind the warning.

“Yes, Nii-chan.”

You don’t plan on answering. What will he do all the way in Japan?

———

You’re so happy to be home in America that you cry with relief in your mother’s arms.

“I missed you too, honey, but there’s no need to cry,” she says as she strokes your hair. “Come on, I made you some lunch. Your father’s on his way home from work. He got off early to come see you.”

———

It’s precisely nine o’clock at night on the east coast when your phone starts ringing. You know instantly who it is as dread fills the pit of your stomach. Reaching over to pick up your phone, you shake your head and decline.

What could Katsuki do? You can’t let him control you anymore.

You set your phone down and go back to reading your book, getting lost in the fantasy plot.

As you keep ignoring his texts and calls, Katsuki grows angrier. How dare you ignore your Nii-chan after everything he’s done for you?! No, this simply won’t do. He can’t have you thinking you can just ignore him. If he has to raise hell in order to get back to his little sister, then he’ll fucking burn the world to ashes.

———

With school about to start, you feel like things are beginning to become normal again. That is until there’s an unexpected knock at the door. Your mother opens it and yells for you in a happy tone for you to come to her.

The blood colored orbs greet you to your horror. You look at your mother with worry.

“What’s going on?” you finally manage to ask.

“Katsuki wanted me to keep it a surprise, but he missed you so much that he wanted to be a part of the foreign exchange student program as well. I didn’t know that there was an extended version of the program, so he’s going to be staying with us for the next three years. Isn’t that great?!”

All you can do is nod. Your mother thinks you’re about to start crying because you missed the ash blonde so much, but she couldn’t be any more wrong.

“Why don’t you go and show your…oh, what was it that she always called you, Katsuki? Nii-cho?”

“Nii-chan,” he answers her while keeping his eyes glued on you.

“Right, sorry, dear. Y/N, go show your Nii-chan the guest room that he’ll be staying in.”

You nod and go up the stairs first, leading him to the right and down the hall until you hit the end of it. Opening the door, you reveal a nice bedroom that Katsuki will be staying in. He puts his bags down and turns to you.

Pulling you into a strong hug, you stifle a whimper as you wrap your arms around him so as not to anger him.

“You never answered one of my calls or texts,” he reprimands.

“I know,” is all you have to say.

“You know I’ll have to punish you for that, right?”

And just like before, your knee begins to throb as if the old wound is still there and Katsuki is pressing down on it.

Finally, the pent up whimper emerges from your lips, and your tears coating your lashes cascade down your cheeks.

“Yes, Nii-chan…”

The truth of your situation finally crashes down on you. No matter where you go, no matter how much you try to ignore him, no matter how far you try to run, your Nii-chan is inescapable.

[eroslove88]

Kinktober Day 4: "Love me in spite, If I betray all lonely nights"

Pairing: Yan. Tamaki x Fem. Reader

Warning: Tentacles, somnopholia, noncon and humping

Note: Hi! So I keep for getting that I'm lactose intolerant and like... It was pretty bad. My fault! Here's day 4. (Sorry if this is shitty).

His apologies fall deaf to your ears, it's always the same lines of, "I'm sorry" or "I'm not trying to hurt you" but it doesn't matter anymore. No matter how innocent and meek his voice may sound. It's all some facade- at least that's what you've figured out anyways...

He's so desperate- and you can tell with every fast movement of his hips. Small whimpers leave his mouth as his tentacles slip underneath your clothing playing with your hard nips and clit.

You're out like a light. It must've been from the drink he brought you that evening. You don't even know why you drank it. It had just been so long since he gave you something to drink that wasn't water.

His lips are quivering and his cock is twitching with anticipation as he watches your squirming body. Your body instinctively grinds against his bulge making him release a shakey mouth, "I-I'm so s-sorry" he apologizes stuttering as butterflies fill his stomach.

He's humping you like there's no tomorrow. Even if you're not moving the bed is creaking and it's bending underneath the weight. He's sweating as he's chasing his high but it just doesn't feel right. There's something missing from this... "intimate action".

If only you were awake, he would have entered your sopping wet hole without a second thought. He knows he's not worthy of becoming a hero but what the commission doesn't know won't hurt them, right?

[novasdarling]

If you’re still doing the prompt list requests, could I ask for yandere Tamaki with noncon and oh please stop crying, I just couldn’t stop myself? Especially if he’s had her kidnapped for awhile but she’s still terrified of him. Your writing is awesome, btw, I hope you’re having a great day! :)

A poor skittish darling, who wants to be better, but just can't.

Couldn't Stop Myself

TW: Noncon, Smut, Past Kidnapping, Crying/Dacryphilia-ish, Female Reader, Aged Up!

Crying was all you did nowadays. It didn't matter if he was there or not, you still cried. Even if he was doing something as simple as bringing you food. It all felt like hell. As if just being around him was torture, and it was. He had done so much to you, kidnapped you, locked you away. He was your prison guard and nothing more in your eyes.

Tamaki tried to be nice. Tried to be gentle and sweet, but your affection back never came. Weeks after weeks you still cried when he entered the same room as you. Only getting a tiny bit better after all this time. It wasn’t enough though. He wanted more, it was only right. You two were a couple, couples were supposed to kiss and cuddle. Smile around each other, but you never did. You just cried. Tamaki wanted to be with you normally. If he was honest, he was getting annoyed. At himself and you. He swore he was doing everything right. Letting you adjust on your own. He knows maybe kidnapping wasn’t the best option, but he had to. There was so much wrong in the world. Danger everywhere, he had to protect you. It was a wrong that could be ignored, a wrong for a greater cause.

He got you flowers almost every day, got you gifts that he knew you would like. Always let you pick the movie on movie nights. Doing anything he thought would make you happy, things he read about in those couple magazines. Tamaki tried to get you to warm up. To make you smile with him, yet the most you gave was a smirk when he made a joke.

Finally, he broke, it wasn’t his fault. You looked so sweet sitting on the couch in one of the dresses he got you. So sweet and cute. It was foolish to think he could control himself. You were happy with his gift, actually enjoying them. It was the thing that broke the damn. He greeted you and then rushed to you. You flinched when he sat down so close. Stroking your check before planting a kiss on both of them. It was obvious you didn’t want it. Allowing him to kiss you had different meanings for the two of you. For Tamaki, it meant you were loving him back now. That you were okay with everything now, wanting him the same way he wanted you. While for you it had a different motive. The idea of acceptance had only just started to enter your head. You still despised his affection, wanting him to just leave you alone, but you knew it was better this way. Let him have a small piece of affection so it doesn't snowball into him wanting more later tonight. Tamaki didn’t realize that or didn’t care. Didn’t bother to go in slowly. No, he was an all or nothing guy. This was the most he had ever been allowed to touch you, he never realized just how badly he needed it, until now.

“You look so pretty baby.”

He kept peppering kisses on your cheek. His hands held your face still, while you tried to move. You weren't ready for this, all of this was now becoming too much. But Tamaki was a greedy lover. Especially when he had been denied something he craved for so long.

“N-no A-Amajiki-"

“Shh sweetie, it’s okay. I’m just so happy baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

There was nothing you could do as Tamaki pushed you down on the couch. The tears began to fall hoping that would make him stop, but it didn’t. They never did. Sorry's and pleas fell from his lips as he continued. Along with sweet words, trying to get you to stop crying, to enjoy it too. His hands brushed over your body. Feeling under the dress. His lips staying on yours. His kisses were sloppy and hungry. Eager and demanding. The smile that spread on his face just couldn’t be helped. This was something he had wanted for so long. You had hoped it would never come this far. That he would either give up eventually and let you go when he realized you weren't playing his game. Or he would at least wait until you asked for it. For so long you thought he would choose one of those options, but now your hope was lost.

This was a different side to Tamaki. Before he had been rather kind for someone who had kidnapped you. Caring even in his own odd way. Always stopped when your tears became too much. This time, however, he didn’t stop. Even as your and his cheeks were wet with your tears. You could barely breathe. Whimpering between kisses for him to stop. All you received was him hushing you, trying to calm you down between kisses. It didn’t work.

“Please sweetie, hush. I-I won't hurt you. I promise.”

Tamaki's hands kept wandering your body. Though he pulled away from your lips. Looking at you, wiping away your tears. He wanted this so much, had been dreaming of this since he first saw you. But you looked at him terrified. Wanting this to end. Your dress was pulled up, allowing him to see the cute set of underwear you had. Lacy and sweet. He loved these on you. You just looked so sweet like this, laying under him in this little outfit. How could he ever stop himself? After all, you were his.

He leaned back and begin to shed his outfit, but by the time he was working on his pants. He got impatient. Needing you right then and there. His pants barely came down below his hips. Quickly getting between your legs again. There was no moving away from him, that was a lesson learned long ago. Usually, your tears had deterred him from trying to get more from you than just touching and kisses. Now though, it was clear your tears weren't working as they typically did. Seeing you now, under him crying, it did something to him.

“Oh, please stop crying, I just couldn’t stop myself?”

You tried to stop the tears from falling. While he used his thumb to rub them away. Tamaki was settling himself between your legs. Pushing your underwear to the side. Letting his fingers slide past your lips. It was hard for you to ignore him. Hard to pretend it didn’t feel good. Having his finger rub against your clit. Once he heard a gasp from you, he let himself go. Focusing on your clit to get more out of you. You looked so lovely like this. Laying there and whimpering for him.

“N-No stop. T-too much!”

“Shh, I’ll go slow baby. I-I promise.”

His fingers circled your clit. He knew you couldn’t fight off the pleasure building. There was no stopping it. The knot began to form in your stomach. His fingers were making you feel so good. It wasn’t fair, all you could do is lay there, cry and moan for him.

Tamaki couldn’t help, but smile. Here you were, finally wanting him as much as he wanted you. This was driving him crazy. He needed you, needed to be in you, needed to hear you moan his name as you finished on his fingers. Working your clit as he slid in a finger. Slowly pumping it until you were grinding against him. You were enjoying yourself, enjoying how he made you feel. His fingers were bringing you closer and closer. Finally, you snapped and grabbed onto his arm. Needing something to centre yourself. Looking into your eyes. Tamaki was revelling in how they were clouded. You were out of it. He had done this to you.

“See, was that so hard.”

Tamaki leant down and kissed your temple before lining himself up. He needed to be in you at this moment. He had waited long enough, this was something he had thought about for so long. Lining himself and pushing in slowly. It took everything in him to not just push all the way in. He needed to take his time with you, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“That’s it, I promise I’ll be slow-you feel so good baby. S-so tight.”

He was finally fully in. Resting for a moment, letting you adjust, letting himself calm down. Your moans were soft and sweet. They were addicting, knowing he was causing them. That he was the one right now in you while you laid there. To him, you were letting him have you. As if this was your idea and not his.

His thrust began to speed up, and his control began to slip. He needed this. Wanted you so badly, wanted to fuck you, to cum in you. Your moans were being drowned out by his whimpering.

“Please baby, I need you. I need you so badly.” He was a stuttering mess. “Fuck, I-I can't s-stop.”

While your face was a mess, covered in tears. He was a mess with pleasure. His thrust sped up. His control was gone now. He needed everything you had to offer. Everything he could get his hands on. Tamaki buried his head between your shoulder and neck. Trying to muffle his sounds. His pleas and cried for more. His apologies and excuses.

“A-Amajiki, no please. Too much. Too m-much.”

“No, no. Not enough.”

He was close, wanting nothing more than to have you filled by him. It was a sudden urge, he needed to finish in you. Like it was some way to claim you. He knew there would be consequences. That you could get pregnant and you weren't ready for that. It was too early, but hell to it. He needed this, and he believed so did you. You would understand your place with him then.

“I’m c-close.”

The words could barely come out. His ability to make sense was slipping away every second he got closer. His thrusts were hard and fast. Chasing his own high. His arms wrapped around you harder while he buried his head further. Giving one last thrust before he spilt into you. Finally, stilling. Tamaki was in pure bliss. Everything he wanted just happened. It was a shame you were still crying. Trying to muffle your whimpers. It was an odd feeling, almost like you didn’t want to ruin his moment. Finally, looking up at you, he gave you a shy smile.

“I’m sorry baby. I, uh, I just got excited. I’ll be better next time.” He pushed himself up, laying gentle kissed on your face. “I love you so much. Y-you know t-that right?”

There was nothing you could do, but nod. Tamaki was a monster in a way, but one who loved you. One who kept you away from the other monsters. Just to keep his own claws on you.

[the-dawn-star]

May I request a small thing about maybe teen reader getting stabbed while on a mission with the lov and the lov don’t know what to do so they basically kept them hidden from dabi and he eventually gets mad and just breaks the door down asking “where the fuck are they”? And then sees that they were stabbed? Take your time btw also love your writing <333

A/N: Hi my anon friend! I have said this before but any fluff with Dabi melts my heart like he melts people.

-S

+ 400ish words.

TW: talk of getting stabbed, that's it I think.

Stabbing might have been an overreaction. It was barely a wound.  

Or that’s what you tried to tell the frantic league around you.  

It was really a stupid mistake that you had gotten stabbed to your side and no matter how much you tried to claim that you were fine.  

Of course, you had been lying to them, it hurt like hell and if they weren’t so panicky you might have been just as scared as them.  

Twice tried to stitch and cover the wound while you cursed like a sailor and squeezed Toga’s hand until she was whining even more than you. 

At some point, you passed out due to tiredness or the pain you couldn’t tell which it truly was.  

--- 

Waking up from a stab wound was everything else than pleasant.  

Your whole body was stiff from the uneasy sleep and the uncomfortable couch you were still laying on.  

The night had been restless because someone was waking you up every hour just to make sure that you were still alive, even if the bleeding had stopped a while ago.  

But even your peaceful time alone was disturbed by fighting outside the thin front door.  

You could hear the voices of your friends and let a little smile grow on your lips. It was good to hear them being back to normal after the frantic night.  

“Where the fuck are they!? What happened?! What’s wrong!!” Dabi yelled over the others not caring about their explanations of your state.  

It took three pushes and a little bit of strength until the door was off of its hinges and Dabi’s eyes glued to you. 

Dabi had become good at hiding his emotions and the pain but still you could see the distraught pain in his eyes.  

The flame user walked calmly next to the couch and took your hand to his.  

You knew that any affection from Dabi was a big deal, so you squeezed his hand back and gave him a small smile trying to comfort him.  

“I’m okay, it’s just a scratch anyway...”  

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

So, how would Deku be with a person who had lots of trauma, like abuse, neglect, and abandonment? Just.... Curious...

Pro hero Deku 

Aww man the whole bundle of bad times

He’s coddling you so hard

You’ve already been through so much

So he won’t leave you (unless he has to)

He won’t forget about you (because your on his mind all the time)

He’s not going to hurt you because he loves you too much

And on top of all that he’s a lot easier to get along with

Because he knows your pain any comforting he does is going to be accepted by you

(Eventually)

Its so much easier to entice you in a consenting relationship 

Because his affection just feels nice

He won’t have to go through with the whole blackmail scheme his other plans

He’s not really happy if you have friends who don’t know what you’ve been through 

But if you’re already dating then he’ll push through for now

If your abusers are still in your life they won’t be for long

Either they get busted by the legal system 

Or if their slippery he’ll be sure to give a remorseful apology when a building falls on them

Villain Deku

Is intent on coddling you as well 

But he’s not going to let that stop from using your trauma against you

Because if you didn’t come willingly to him he’ll need a more twisted way to deal with that

Threatening abandonment or neglecting you

Abuse is completely off the table 

And in all honesty he probably won’t do any of that to you 

its just so that he can enjoy it when you desperately beg him not to leave you

Supportive friends or the abusers themselves are not safe in any expanse

There is only one being worthy enough to love you so intensely

And he hates being second to anyone

[sednas]

[GIRL NEXT DOOR] — tomura shigaraki

꒰ ͜͡➸ starting off halloween strong with this one. so yeah, I'm not making a kinktober, but I'll post dark themed fanfics during the month of October, in addition to the soft fics and 'classic' nsfw fics that I'm usually writing.

pairing: tomura shigaraki x fem!reader

tw: NSFW, DARK CONTENT, somnophilia, noncon, oral (m receiving), yandere themes

you're so cute, so cute with your hair falling all over your face, your lips slightly parted, a peaceful expression on your face. tomura loves to watch every little detail of your features, the light marks on your skin, your beauty spots, the way your chest rises elegantly every time you breathe.

so cute, looking so innocent and soft. so pretty sleeping peacefully like this. tomura's eyes devoured your sleeping form, the covers barely doing their job to cover your body. he can see your thigh resting above a pillow, making your ass rises in the air, your little white shirt hugging tightly your chest.

tomura can't resist the urge to palm himself through his clothes. you're begging him to fuck you. since the first smile you gave him when your mother welcomed his parents to the neighborhood. you're always so nice to him, sending smiles at him whenever your eyes meet his own, genuinely enjoying his conversation every time your parents invite each other. he never saw you staring at his scars, his crimson eyes or his habit to constantly scratch his skin.

one day you even noticed how badly he was injuring himself so you kindly took him to the bathroom to clean up the blood from his neck. he never been so hard in his entire life.

until this day at least, having you in front of him like that, half naked, asleep, completely at his mercy. he licked his dry lips, slowly coming closer, making a few sounds to see how deep was your sleep. the sleeping pills he gave you a few hours ago would help. with a trembling hand he touches your exposed thigh. you don't move. more confidently this time, he squeezes your skin before rubbing it while still touching himself with his other hand.

“she's so pretty...” he whispers to himself, removing the covers.

his hand trails down on your ass, squeezing the skin a little harder than before, you whine at the sensation and tomura freezes for a few seconds.

“such a sweet noise.”

without thinking, he spreads your ass cheeks, revealing your small panties, hardly hiding your pussy. he draws a finger over the outline of your folds, pushing it a little deeper once he finds your clit. you let out a little sigh and it makes tomura smile.

he stops rubbing your clit when he feels you start to rock your hips against his hand. he wants to use you for his own pleasure tonight, it's his revenge for making him so hard before without ever helping him out.

he moves until he's standing in front of your face. in a soft gesture, he removes the strands of your hair that are getting in your face and for a few seconds he forgets about his throbbing cock, for a moment he just admires your face, you are as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, and he loves you for that, he wants to ruin you for that.

he dragged his thumb across your lower lip, forcing you to open your mouth while undoing his pants with his other hand. freeing his aching cock, he waists no time to rub it on your face, smearing pre-cum all over your cheeks. tomura lets out a shaky sigh before pushing his cock between your lips, his eyes already rolling back at the feeling of your warm mouth around him.

his hips begin to thrust in an irregular rhythm, drool quickly starting to pour out of your mouth. he grunts and the slippery sounds become louder. at this point he doesn't care if you wake up, in fact he wants you to. he's sure the expression in your pretty eyes would be priceless.

he's already close, his cock throbbing inside your mouth as you're still heavily sleeping. tomura wanted you so badly, and he was sure you were made for him.

he gripped the headboard as you choke around him. observing your face with your mouth full one last time, he pulls out, and he can swear that he heard you whine in protest. he lets out a few curses while jerking his cock, finally releasing his load all over your face and chest.

you look so good like that, your body tainted with his cum and your drool. tomura bend over to kiss you on the forehead.

“sweet dreams princess.” he whispered.

he will come back, it's a sick and twisted love, but it's still love that he's feeling.

mha masterlist

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

[xobrattymoonxo]

Introductions - Villans

Summary: When Y/n had everything taken from her at such a young age, she wanted to strike revenge. Foster home after foster home Y/n set fires all over the place... and even some people. It wasn't until the number two hero, Endeavor, took her under his wing for a positive image. Y/n meet a boy there, Touya. Touya was the only one who understood her. One day, Touya is rushed to the hospital.....Y/n never saw him again. Endeavor begins to blame Y/n, as all his force is now aimed at her. Baby shouto came shortly after the incident. On Shouto's 7th birthday, y/n was kicked out and forced to live off of nothing. Y/n rummaged the streets of the city until she met a pro hero, snipe. He helped Y/n to better herself and become a great hero. Y/n only has one goal, though....and that's to kill Endeavor. Little did she know her childhood best friend, Touya, has been keeping an eye on her...... And he has other plans for her, hero.

Trigger Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, Yandere, stalking, obsessions creepy behavior, major character death, brutal scenes of violence, arson, setting people on fire, blood, gore

Taglist: Open, dm, send an ask,  or comment to be added!

Taglist @weirdovictor @fiestynatureweeb

Masterlist

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 14 Chapter 14 | secret syllabus⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

The day had bled into another, the memory of your encounter with Todoroki a distant thought as you focused on the familiar routine of navigating the bustling halls of U.A. Lunch beckoned, and you clutched the brown paper bag of goodness—courtesy of a grumbled-but-appreciated offering from Bakugo—closer to your chest.

Just as you were about to turn the corner leading to the cafeteria, a deep, gravelly voice boomed from behind. "Akuma-san, a word please."

You whirled around, spotting Blood Vlad, his imposing figure filling the doorway, holding something to the side of him. A flicker of surprise danced across your features before settling into a mask of polite neutrality. "Kan-sensei," you greeted with a respectful nod.

"There's been a slight change in your schedule," he began, his crimson eyes studying you with an intensity that could make lesser students squirm. "Principal Nezu, with the unanimous support of the faculty, has extended an invitation for you to join Class 1-A at U.S.J. today."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. The Unforeseen Simulation Joint arc you'd devoured in textbooks? You couldn't help but be curious. "U.S.J.?" you echoed, allowing a touch of confusion to lace your voice.

Blood Vlad grunted in response. "Given your exceptional performance during class activities and your consistent lead over your peers, it's been deemed beneficial for you to observe Class 1-A during their training exercise. Consider it a... crash course in advanced hero work."

A slow smile spread across your face. Observing Class 1-A, the cream of the crop students at U.A.? This wasn't just an observation session; it was a golden opportunity to glean valuable intel on their strengths, weaknesses, and, most importantly, their Quirks.

Information you could then use to your advantage—to elevate your position within U.A.

"I understand, Kan-sensei. Thank you for informing me."

Blood Vlad gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. He lifted up the object he held—it was a sleek black suitcase. "Here," he rumbled, tossing the suitcase towards you with surprising agility. "Your hero costume. Get changed and report to the class. There, someone from 1-A should take you to the others, where Aizawa-sensei will brief you further."

You caught the suitcase effortlessly, the weight reassuring in your hand. "Understood," you responded, a single, clipped word that held a promise of silent understanding.

With a final, assessing glance, Blood Vlad turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving you alone with the weight of unexpected opportunity and the promise of a thrilling afternoon at U.S.J.

You tucked the hero costume case under your arm and decided to swing back by the classroom to drop off your uneaten lunch before heading to change. As you approached the classroom door, the murmur of hushed conversation filtered through the thin barrier.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the sight of nine of your classmates, a mix of familiar and less familiar faces, clustered around your usual desk.

Monoma shot up like a rocket the second his eyes landed on you. His wide, cheesy grin could rival All Might's in its enthusiasm. "President!" he crowed, his voice cutting through the hushed conversations.

The other eight turned towards you, their surprise mirroring Monoma's initial reaction. Tetsutetsu, gave a hearty laugh. "Akuma-san! Is everything fine from your... um... feminine emergencies? You nearly missed lunch! Good thing we waited for you," he boomed, his voice lacking any real malice.

"I appreciate you all's generosity, Tetsu-kun," you replied smoothly, keeping your voice vague as you internally tsked.

You knew someone—or rather, several someones—would be lingering for you despite dipping out of class ten minutes prior with the well-worn excuse of feminine issues. You just hadn't expected quite so many, or for them to be so persistent and actually wait for your return.

Monoma, ever the pest, was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his persistent grin plastered on his face. "Whoa, what's that?" he blurted out, pointing an accusing finger at the hero costume case you held.

Tetsu's earlier question about your extended restroom break was clearly forgotten.

Kendo, your fiery-haired vice president, shot him a withering look. "Monoma, manners," she hissed under her breath, teal eyes blazing in irritation.

You, however, didn't mind the interruption. This was a perfect opportunity to further cultivate your air of mystery. A slight smile played on your lips as you lifted the case a few inches, the sleek black surface catching the light. "It's my hero outfit," you replied nonchalantly. 

The moment the case left your side, the classroom erupted in a flurry of excited chatter. Tsuburaba whistled appreciatively. "Whoa, looks intense, Akuma-san! What'd you get, a jetpack with it or something?"

A chorus of questions and comments filled the air. "How'd you get it so soon?" chirped Tsunotori, the girl with tall, pale tan horns, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Maybe it's super cute!" squealed Tokage, the dark, moss-green-haired student, bouncing on her toes.

Monoma scoffed. "Nah, definitely not cute. Probably something hot, right? Like a high-tech bodysuit that hugs and enhances her bo—"

Kendo, clearly exasperated, reached over and smacked Monoma on the back of the neck with a resounding thwack. "Monoma! Manners!" she hissed through gritted teeth once again.

Monoma yelped, rubbing his sore neck with a pout. "Jeez, Kendo, what was that for?"

Ignoring him completely, Kendo bowed towards you in apology. "I'm terribly sorry about Monoma, Akuma-san. He can be a bit too much sometimes."

You raised a hand, silencing the classroom with a single gesture. A satisfied smirk played on your lips as the chatter died down instantly. You liked it; they obeyed your command without you even needing to resort to your 'Quirk'. It spoke volumes about the hierarchy you'd established in Class 1-B.

"Thank you, Kendo-san," you replied politely, acknowledging her apology. "It's quite alright. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I have a hero costume to change into." You gave a curt nod and turned towards the door, a thrill coursing through you.

This unexpected invitation to U.S.J. was shaping up to be far more interesting than you could have ever anticipated.

With a quick stride, you made your way to the nearest restroom, eager to slip into your hero costume. Inside a private stall, you carefully removed your school uniform, anticipation building with each rustle of fabric.

Unzipping the sleek black case, you revealed your hero costume in all its glory. Quickly donning it, you stood back to a moment to admire your outfit in the mirror.

Your blouse, a pale aqua, was crisp and neatly buttoned, giving you a professional yet relaxed vibe. The black tie knotted firmly around your collar added a touch of seriousness to your look. Over your blouse, a fitted black blazer hugged your form, its sharp lines mirroring your newfound determination.

You'd paired this with classic black trousers, which complemented your frame with a comfortable, tailored fit. The pants ended just above brown leather shoes, polished to a high shine.

With your hands casually tucked into your pockets, you exuded a confident, ready-for-business air, softened by the whimsical hint of the forest green backdrop that adorned the inside of the blazer. It wasn't camouflage, exactly, but rather a subtle artistic flourish that hinted at a hidden power lurking beneath the surface.

Satisfied, you exited the restroom, ready to rejoin your classmates. As you walked back into your classroom, the murmurs started again. This time, however, they weren't filled with questions about your absence, but with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

A blur of movement zipped towards you. It was Fukidashi, the boy with the comic book head, bouncing excitedly. With a burst of energy, his head transformed into a flashing white speech bubble that read "Whoop! Whoop!" in bold letters, accompanied by a pair of clapping hands.

Behind Fukidashi shuffled Komori, a short girl with honey-brown hair curved inwards in a mushroom-shaped bob. Her usual shy demeanor was amplified by the situation, her cheeks dusted a soft pink.

She nervously twirled an end of her bob as she approached you, her voice barely a whisper. "A-Akuma-san," she stammered, "it... it looks really good on you. Very well-suited." She couldn't quite meet your gaze, quickly rushing off to hide behind Tetsutetsu, her face burning red.

Monoma attempted to maintain his usual bravado, his gaze, however, lingered a beat too long on your figure, a faint blush creeping up his neck despite his crossed arms. He cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "Alright, alright," he scoffed, "So you got your hero costume early. Big deal. Why'd they give it to you anyway?"

You tilted your head slightly, casting a playful glance up at him through your lashes. A slow, teasing smile played on your plump lips as they stretched into a half-smirk. "Do you really want to know, Monoma-kun?~" you purred, your voice dripping with a deliberate sweetness.

The effect was instantaneous. Monoma's blush deepened several shades, and a flustered look crossed his face. It wasn't just him; several other classmates found themselves inexplicably flustered by your sudden display of playful charm. You couldn't help but internally smirk.

With a playful lilt in your voice, you replied, "Well, let's just say I wanted something practical. Something that wouldn't attract undue attention while working undercover amongst civilians."

This, of course, was a carefully constructed lie.

The truth was, the familiar lines of the suit were a subtle comfort, a reminder of your past life at Public Safety. But that was a secret you found no use in revealing.

"Now, as for the gadgets and upgrades," you gestured towards the subtle metallic accents lining the blazer, "there's extreme heat resistance for those sonic-based Quirks, and..." you trailed off dramatically, allowing a hint of mystery to linger. "Let's just say there are a few other surprises built in. Let's keep them under wraps for now, shall we?" The implication of hidden power was clear, and your classmates leaned in, captivated.

Tetsutestu let out a whistle, rushing over with eyes sparkling. "Whoa, that's sounds so manly, Akuma-san! Always gotta be prepared!"

Even Monoma, despite his embarrassment, managed to grumble a begrudging compliment, "I guess, you do look good. Not that I care or anything..." A faint blush still lingered on his cheeks, betraying his attempt at indifference.

The rest of the class chimed in, showering you with compliments on both the practicality and sleek design of your costume.

Suddenly, a sharp rap on the door startled everyone into silence.

The door creaked open to reveal a young man standing impeccably in the doorway. He was relatively tall and muscular, with a wide frame and short dark blue hair neatly flattened and parted on the right. His most striking features, however, were his calves.

Incredibly thick and shaped like automobile engines, six silver exhaust pipes protruded from each leg in columns of three. This, you knew from Bakugo, was the Quirk 'Engine' that granted him incredible speed and kicking power. 

"Excuse me," the young man began, his voice polite and formal. "My name is Iida, and I'm here from 1-A to escort an 'Akuma Y/N' to the U.S.J. meet-up-point. The bus is preparing to leave shortly."

An awkward silence filled the room. Your classmates exchanged glances, unsure how to react to the sudden arrival of a student from the prestigious Class 1-A.

Monoma, never one to miss an opportunity to stir the pot, took a step closer to you, his usual sneer plastered on his face. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who it is. A fancy 1-A student here grace us with his presence. Think you can just waltz in here and snatch our precious president away, huh?"

You cut him off before he could unleash another tirade. A gentle giggle escaped your lips, the sound light and carefree. "Monoma-kun," you said, your voice laced with a hint of playful reprimand, "that's no way to treat a guest, especially a hero-to-be like Iida-kun." 

Mentally, you silently applauded Iida for his stoicism. Despite the tense atmosphere and Monoma's childish behavior, he remained calm and collected, a true mark of a leader.

Kendo, sensing the potential for escalation, wasted no time in delivering her own brand of justice. With a swift movement, she karate-chopped Monoma in the back of the neck. The blow, though not malicious, was more effective than the last two. Monoma yelped and crumpled to the floor, instantly silenced.

"Monoma deserved that," Kendo muttered under her breath, sending a reassuring smile your way. "Please excuse him once again, Akuma-san."

You waved her off. "No worries at all, Kendo-san. It seems we all have a bit of fire in us, wouldn't you agree?" With a final flourish, you rose to your feet, smoothing down the non-existent wrinkles of your blazer. Turning to your gathered classmates, you gave a small bow. "I'll be back shortly, everyone. Until then, keep up the excellent work."

Your gaze then settled on Kendo, your fiery-haired vice president. You placed a soft smile onto your lips as you met her eyes, tilting your head in a gesture of quiet confidence. Walking forward, you reached out and gently grasped both of her hands between yours. Your touch was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the cool exterior you often presented.

"Kendo-san," you began, your voice dropping to a low murmur, "I'm counting on you to keep everyone in line while I'm gone. You're the voice of reason here, and I know they'll listen to you." A playful glint entered your eyes. "Especially Monoma-kun. See if you can keep him from causing too much trouble."

Kendo's eyes widened momentarily, a harsh blush creeping up her cheeks. You couldn't help but find her flustered expression humorous.

Once again, here was someone reduced to a blushing mess by you from merely a simple touch and a few honeyed words.

"O-of course, Akuma-san," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I, uh... I won't let you down." Her long orange hair, usually tied back in a high ponytail, seemed to frizz slightly at the ends, betraying her underlying anxiety.

"I know you won't." Turning your attention back to Iida, you offered a polite smile. "Thank you for coming to fetch me, Iida-kun. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

As you began walking side-by-side with Iida, a memory flickered in the back of your mind. You recalled seeing him a few times around U.A., his distinctive blue hair and engine calves making him hard to miss, especially since he'd always hung Midoriya and some rosy-cheeked girl.

Filing that information away for later, you decided it would be beneficial to have a rule-follower like Iida on your good side. With a casual smile, you turned to him. "By the way, Iida-kun," you began casually, offering your hand for a shake, "allow me to formally introduce myself. Akuma Y/N, Class 1-B president, at your service."

Iida seemed momentarily surprised. Perhaps he'd expected you to maintain the same aloof demeanor your other classmates had displayed earlier. But as you offered your hand and a friendly smile, you could visibly see his demeanor relax a bit.

A hint of blush crept up his cheeks as he let out a short, embarrassed chuckle. "Ah, well, yes," he stammered, taking your hand with a light shake. "Of course I know who you are. Midoriya and, well, Bakugo-kun, have mentioned you a few times. It's a pleasure to properly meet you, Akuma-san. Iida Tenya, Class 1-A president, at your service as well."

You chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Also, please forgive the... enthusiasm of my classmates earlier. They tend to get a little carried away, especially when it comes to showing off Class B's best." You flashed him a wry smile. "Being class president isn't always sunshine and rainbows, is it?"

The dam broke. Iida, a wellspring of pent-up frustration finally unleashed, launched into a tirade about the struggles of student leadership. He spoke of overzealous classmates, mountains of hero-work on top of general education, and the constant pressure to maintain perfection.

You listened patiently, interjecting with understanding nods and sympathetic sighs. It wasn't hard to play the part of the eager listener, and Iida, starved for an outlet, poured out his woes.

As the conversation flowed, your eyes subtly began to glow a soft yellow. A faint, almost imperceptible sheen flickered over his eyes behind the glasses. He was under your subtle influence.

With this control in mind, you skillfully shifted the conversation. "Speaking of pressure," you began, your voice laced with feigned curiosity, "I can only imagine the expectations placed on Class 1-A. All those top heroes coming out of your class..." You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Iida, caught in your gentle manipulation, readily took the bait. His frustration momentarily forgotten, he puffed out his chest slightly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Yes, well, the pressure is immense," he declared, his voice taking on a more animated tone. "We have to constantly strive for excellence, to uphold the legacy of our predecessors. It's not for the faint of heart, that's for sure."

You leaned in slightly, feigning intense interest. "Tell me more," you urged, your voice barely a whisper. "What are some of the challenges you face? The unspoken expectations? Perhaps some of the Quirks your classmates possess..." You planted the seed of information-sharing subtly, watering it with your carefully constructed persona.

Iida, basking in your newfound attentiveness, readily complied. He launched into a detailed explanation of Class 1-A's rigorous training regimen, the immense pressure to succeed, and even dropped a few names of his classmates and their Quirks; his info a little more detailed than Bakugo's recount from the first day a couple of weeks ago.

You absorbed this information eagerly, filing it away for future use.

Just as you both rounded the corner to the bus, the yellow glow in your eyes faded away. With an innocent smile, you ended the connection, confident that you'd gleaned all you needed for now.

Pushing your control too hard could backfire; a dazed and confused Iida would be a red flag in a school crawling with heroes. No, subtlety was key.

You had taken the first bite out of the apple of Class 1-A's secrets, and you were hungry for more.

***usj arc slowly approaching...

[cupidcreates]

Little Box of Bells

Yandere MHA Ficlet

Ft: Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou, Rody Soul, Eijirou Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinsou, Denki Kaminari, Tamaki Amajiki, Keigo Takami, Neito Monoma, Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki, Shirakumo Oboro, Shota Aizawa

✨💖🌸🌟Adult Content / Minors DNI🌟🌸💖✨

On your way home from work you stumble across a damp cardboard box with the label FOR PICKUP, DESTROY written in big red letters on the front. Overcome with curiosity you open it to find it full of handbells of various shapes, sizes, and metal compositions. You can’t figure out why someone would want these destroyed, but whoever was meant to do so will undoubtedly be here soon. It’d be a shame to see them all go to waste, surely they won’t miss just one bell…

TW: Yandere, Stalking, Kidnapping, Noncon/Dubcon, Violence, Blood, Gore, *More to be Added*

Chapter One: An Interesting Find

    Work had killed the optimistic spirit you’d started the day with, as it so often did. Your hopes of getting off early were dashed almost as soon as you walked in the door and caught sight of everything you needed to get done that day. You knew you’d be stuck walking home at night, too exhausted to do anything but heat up some leftovers and crash for the night.

    ‘Must be a day that ends in y,’ You thought bitterly to yourself.

    As predicted you ended up missing the last bus and had to walk home, construction on your regular route forcing you to take the long way around. You were confident in the safety of your neighborhood so you weren’t too worried about being jumped, whether or not your body would hold up long enough for you to even get home was your main concern.

    The silver lining to the late night walk was that the rain had finally let up. It’d been storming nearly all day, rain lashing the windows your small cubicle was pressed up against. More than once you found your concentration slipping from your tasks and latching onto the storm outside. If you focused hard enough you thought you could make out shapes dancing through the violent downpour. Sometimes the shapes even made sense.

    It was a relief to nearly be home, and as you rounded the corner onto your street something small caught your attention out of the side of your eye. A small cardboard box, dampened and misshapen by the rain. Drawing closer to it you were able to make out the words scrawled in big red messy marker on the side:

    FOR PICKUP, DESTROY.

    Curiosity overcame you and against your better judgment you bent down to examine the parcel. It was surprisingly sturdy for having been out in the rain for what you assumed was awhile. It smelt musty, like wet dog and old paper mache and was just as damp to the touch as you would have expected. You pulled the four flaps of the box away and peered inside.

    You weren’t sure what you were expecting the box to contain, but a cluster of handbells of various shapes and sizes was certainly not it. Baffled you reached down and lifted a bell to your face, examining it closely before picking up another and doing the same. Not only were they different shapes and sizes, they all had different patterns engraved on them and seemed to be made of different metals.

    You pulled the bells out of the box one by one and set them down on the sidewalk in front of you, examining them in reference to one another. There were fourteen bells in total, each with a differently colored ribbon attached where the bell met the handle. In addition to this, each bell had a small paper identification card attached to its base as well. Curiously, none of the cards seemed to be wet.

    You picked up a bell at random and looked it over. It was a heavy iron handbell, with jagged pink lines engraved deep into the rough metal. It seemed to glow slightly, and was not the only one to do so. It pulsed with an inexplicable bright green energy whose temperature you could not discern. The bow was dark green and the label attached read: The Stalker.

    The second was a brass handbell with large black X's scorched into the metal. The bell itself was slightly hot to the touch and adorned at the bottom with a small orange zig zag pattern. The bow was similarly orange and the label read: The Tyrannical.

    You caught on to the naming convention as you moved on to the third bell. It was made of a beautiful and solid silver but had been crudely splashed with paint, white on the left side and bright red on the right. Strangely, each side was different in temperature but the bell didn’t seem to have any way to make the metal react this way. There were no engravings on this bell. The bow was similar in color, half red and half white and the label read: The Voyeur.

    The fourth bell was heaviest of all, a rough and jagged hunk of bronze that could hardly even be categorized as an instrument anymore. It jutted out and divided at odd, random angles, almost as if it were trying to mimic a mound of harsh weather-worn boulders. Though battered it didn’t seem any weaker for it, in fact the metal of this bell was the thickest out of all of them. The bow was bright red, save for the ends that ombre-ed to black. The label attached read: The Enduring.

    The fifth bell was bright and made of aluminum, it was engraved with a shock of bright yellow electricity that arched across the entire surface of the instrument. It vibrated with energy in your hand and you could hear a low buzzing and crackling noise when you brought it close to your ear. The bow was yellow with a black lightning bolt sewn into it, and the label read: The Volatile.

    You picked up the five handbells and placed them gently back into the box before moving on to the sixth bell. It was a metal of the deepest blue you’d ever seen, and a cursory google search told you the closest metal to this description was Niobium. It was smooth to the touch and lacked any adornments. It held a type of regal energy, as though carving anything into it was a crime too great to even consider. The deep purple bow was similarly soft and the label attached read: The Compelling.

    The seventh bell was a deep gray color, you mistook it for silver at first but checking google again told you it was more than likely a metal called tantalum. It was the most normal looking of the lot, save for a small pink bird engraved near the handle. The bow itself was gray and the label read: The Sly.

    The eighth was another aluminum bell, similarly light but with nothing engraved in it. You went to place it down when you noticed something strange. Where before its surface was smooth and featureless, the metal began to warp as soon as you touched another bell, the image of the second instrument appearing seemingly from nowhere. It did this with each bell you lifted in turn and even changed to mimic the pattern on your phone case when you went to record a video. The bow was black with sky blue dots and the label, appropriately, read: The Mimic.

    The ninth was a titanium bell, a fact you could tell immediately upon seeing the light reflected off its metal surface. Its deep blue bounced vibrant shades of red, purple, yellow, and green off it, colors dancing and mixing on its face as you gently rolled it in the palm of your hand. The deep indigo bow was situated nicely over its small label, which read: The Metamorphosing.

    The tenth bell was the second bronze one of the bunch, where the first had been heavy and jagged, this one was light and smooth. Its metal was polished and it looked surprisingly well maintained. It had bright red feathers engraved in a pattern at the bottom that looked as though they’d recently received a new coat of paint. The bow was an equally bright shade of red and the label just beneath it read: The Swift.

    Picking up the second five handbells you gingerly placed them back into the box before moving on to the eleventh bell. It was the second silver one, or at least you assumed it was. It was burnt nearly beyond recognition and you weren’t positive it could even ring anymore. This one seemed to have words engraved on it, a proper cleaning might make them legible. The bow was bright blue and the label attached read: The Vengeful.

    The twelfth bell was again, iron. It was equally as heavy as the first but not nearly as smooth, in fact its surface was gritty and as you lifted it up a chunk broke off the bottom. It was dust before it reached the ground. This bell was obviously on its last legs and there was no way it was functional anymore. You read the label anyway, placed neatly underneath the snow-white bow it read: The Decaying.

    The second to last bell was the beautiful blue metal niobium, again with no engravings. It was nearly identical to the first, save for the bow. Interestingly, this was the only bell that didn’t come with a carefully tied ribbon, instead it had a thin piece of white cloth haphazardly wrapped around the base of the handle. Bunched up and dirty it covered the small label that read: The Hunter.

    The last bell you mistook to be the third silver instrument of the bunch. You were partly right, but in addition to the small label underneath the pale blue bow reading The Vaporous there was a second smaller label which read: Nickel-Silver. You assumed this to be its composition as it was a slightly darker gray color than the previous two. The lines dancing up and down its surface seemed meaningless at first, but upon closer inspection you could see they were trying to imitate thick cumulus clouds.

    You placed the last four bells back into the box but paused just before you closed the parcel. It was such a strange thing you stumbled upon here today, not significant in a life-changing way but just interesting enough to recount to a friend or ponder over at night. Life was so monotonous these days, it was nice to have something to shake up the repetitive cycle of work and sleep. 

You gazed back down into the box, where each bell sat unassuming and inconsequential. Whoever was meant to pick these up would surely not miss a single bell, would they? It would mean so much more to you as a souvenir of this strange little encounter you found yourself in, wouldn’t it? Surely it couldn’t hurt to just take one…

Who’s bell will you take home with you?

The Stalker

The Tyrant

The Voyeur

The Enduring

The Volatile

The Compelling

The Sly

The Mimic

The Metamorphosing

The Swift

The Vengeful

The Decaying

The Hunter

The Vaporous

Don’t Take a Bell

Tags!

@smileybokuto @furfoxsake22 @iambashfulperson @sailorcorgis @barnesparkers @fucktheworlddude @andrastesbeard @chaosatmidnight @thepuckishrogue @black-rose-29 @loveinhaikyuu @katsumi-sumi @rvgrsbrns @andrastesbeard @fantasyismyreality @kara062284-blog @ofinkandpaper @askingdaniella-blog  @sunnywonki @clipclop42 @mysterywrjterr @demigirl2007​ @madmabari  @punningpasta

Only Aizawa

@eraser-punk

[hotwings0203]

“Daddy?”

You moan and weakly toss your head to your left as you hear the cellar door open

Tw: noncon, blood, kidnapping, abuse, whipping, the usual shindig

His chuckle reverberates throughout the dark room, and you can’t help but flinch at every footstep coming down the rickety steps. Your head is pounding, your heart seems to be caught in your throat and the dingy light in the cellar keeps swaying amidst the draft.

His figure descending towards you makes you nauseous, but you're not dumb enough to fall for his good-natured demeanor as he descends and approaches towards you.

Full eye-contact, a smile as best as you can manage it, and body turned toward him.

As if the chains wrapping around your body like some fucked-up gift wrapping allowed you any mobility anyways .

"Hi there, princess," he coos at you before squatting in front of your weak and bound form, lifting your chin up at him gently with his thumb and forefinger.

You hum quietly and try to swallow the cotton that seems to invade your mouth at the dark humor in his eyes.

"You miss me?"

Nodding as vigorously as you can, you scrunch your eyebrows together and pout your lips the way you know hope melts him. The healing cuts across your forehead and cheeks sting as the scabs are pulled taut with the way you're manipulating your facial expression, but if that's the price to pay to satiate put off his sick desires, then so be it.

"I-"

You cough and desperately try to wet your lips with your tongue to get rid of the raspy warble, and instead attempt to don a soft, higher pitched voice.

He doesn't like it when you give him the impression he's neglectful.

"I m-missed you daddy. Wanted to have your arms around me and feel you, and, and.."

You trail off hopelessly as you scramble for what else he'd want to hear, but in the time your hesitation settles uneasily in the air, his hand has already reached around behind his back to produce a strange black silk bandana.

"Yeah?" He simpers at your panicked expression seeing the new toy. "Guess you can't have missed me that much if you stopped screaming for me."

Your face falls.

That sick fuck

He slaps your face, hard, and violently rips your thighs apart. You yelp and flinch as he cups underneath your knees and brings them up next to your head.

Your legs shake at the strain of being folded in half after being immobile for so long, and you feel the threat of a severe cramp creeping in your calves. He merely grips your legs tighter and shoves you harder against the wall, practically slamming his hips against your own at the easy access.

He grinds slow and deliberate, almost painfully as your lower half buzzes from the attention. You sob as you strain your head to the side to avoid his leering grin right in your face, hair falling over your eyes as a temporary shield to his sadism.

"Aww, look at you. You that shy? I thought I fucked it out of you the first couple times, but I guess the lack of attention really did wonders for you."

"Daddy, please," What you're begging for, you have no idea, but you know your silence will enrage him further.

As he's done so kindly to remind you about.

His raspy growls continue right in your ear, words hot and fierce as you wince in terror. "What, I leave you down here for two days and you only need me for bathroom breaks? For food? What if I just cut that all off, huh? Would you need me then, you ungrateful fucking brat?"

He seethes and suddenly gnaws your ear.

"No! Nonononono daddy, m-my throat hurt after calling out the first couple of hours, I promise!" You wail as he continues to painfully rut and grind against your sore mound.

"Nah, don't start begging now. Your punishment hasn't even started. This is just warming you up, my pretty girl," he breathes into your open and wet tear-stained mouth as he deftly undoes your wrist shackles. His mouth never leaves yours as he lifts you up tightly against him and carries you to the other side of the red room.

The second he places your unsteady feet on the floor he grabs the ropes swinging lightly overhead and immediately starts tying your chaffed wrists again. Even though you're standing now, you feel as though your position bound now in the middle of the room is even more vulnerable that when you were sitting against the wall.

"I'm sorryyyy," your sobs wrack your body as he lets go of your now-bound wrists. Your balance is lost as you let go of your weight and let the ropes hold you up. And yet, you're still not even sure what you did to piss him off.

"Yeah, just like that, keep screaming for me pretty girl," he mutters under his breath as he stalks around the room looking for something.

"I thought the waterboarding and knives were enough to get it through your thick head, but I'll spell it out for you...on your body"

His rummaging around the room stops as he positions himself behind you, much to your terror. At least when he's in front of you you can protect whatever part of your body he's targeting.

All you hear is the pathetic sound of your own sniffles and his heavy breathing.

You make one last attempt before submitting to your own fate.

"Daddy...I thought you couldn't hear me. That's why I stopped calling for you. I-if I had known you could hear me I wouldn't have stopped!" The rest comes out in a rush as if he'll silence your excuses, and your dry throat feels as though it's ripping in half.

There's a very pregnant pause before you hear a shuffling behind you, and he starts to peel your flimsy, dirty nightie off of you.

Your lip wobbles as the silence continues, and he begins to shove his hands up your body, first trailing up and over your hips, past up your sides, and then cupping your bruised tits. You hiss slightly as his thumbs press into your sore nipples as his palms massage the globes in circles.

His breathing picks up again as you do nothing but whimper at his violations, his hips having a mind of their own and rubbing up against your bare backside. You have no idea when he took his pants off, but you definitely feel his unsheathed member dragging hot and heavy over your asscheeks, teasingly releasing precum over the skin.

"Oh, I'm not mad at you baby. I'm gonna let you continue your silence. In fact-"

His rutting and ministrations stop as he seems to have worked himself up to a climax, and you gasp lightly as you feel a cool silk fall over your eyes. You feel him secure it snugly behind your head, and moments later you hear the sound of duct tape being ripped from its coil. Sure enough, your mouth is covered, and you're rendered mute, immobile, and blind within a matter of minutes.

He voices your terror. "Like a lamb waiting for slaughter," he croons as he places his palms flat against the hollow planes against your torso your breasts, pressing you closer into his uncovered erection and chest. It seems as though he can never get close enough to you, even within his grasp.

"Spread your legs." And now his voice is monotone, devoid of the lilt mere seconds earlier.

You're too terrified to do anything but obey, hoping if you react well enough this punishment will also end in minutes tops.

You smell rather than hear the leather first, with its pungent factory scent drifting up to your blood-caked nose, making your nostrils wrinkle in disgust.

And then, you feel it.

He places the bottom of the handle of the whip firmly against your poor widdle clit, and starts grinding in circles, imitating the way he was earlier when you were in his arms.

You squeal against the moist tape and thrash, your wrists aching something fierce as the ropes holding all your weight above prove to be unyielding, merciless.

He laughs cruelly at your distressed state, and continues to rub your bud faster. He rambles on like a madman, and you feel like your ears will bleed with the filth he spews.

"Yeah, yeah, you like that? You want it that badly, slut? I'll make sure you never stop begging me, begging me to love you, to hold you, to fuck you like you need me right now," all the while he rubs his member over your asscrack and cover you threateningly.

His other hand yanks your hair to the side, and he lowers his grinning mouth to the unblemished nape of your neck, fighting for balance against your skin as you try your utter best to thwart his evading teeth.

He bites and sucks at your skin like you're nothing more than a chew-toy, all the while moaning lewdly and growling like a fucking dog.

All the sensations inflicted on your poor, abused body cause your hips to rock in their own rhythm against the handle of the whip, which hasn't stopped its incessant stimulation.

There's a tense moment of re-adjustment as he shifts the handle to his other wrist to prevent his own hand cramps, and he stops his rutting as well as his assault on your neck.

While he straightens up to continue the torture, you however, have not stopped bucking your hips amidst the handle stilling on your clit.

You let out a wail of frustration- at him, and being violated like this, and needing to cum because of it.

When he realizes your hips are actively still bucking and chasing the revoked high, he barks out an incredulous laugh.

"Seriously? And here I thought this was punishment. You sick little freak, you're not supposed to be enjoying this."

And sure enough, you feel the handle shift from stilling against your clit to pushing inside your quivering hole. You moan loudly at the feeling of the lightly ribbed tool rubbing agianst your puckering walls, albeit a bit painfully.

You can hear him exhale in awe as he angles the handle at a place that makes you jump and lift your hips as best as you can just to lower them against the shaft. he keeps it there, letting your buck your hips and work for it yourself, teasing you by bringing it lower and finding yourself unable to drop any further due to the short leash above your head.

But hes a kind master, and soon begins fucking it up into you himself after the sight of your drooling, empty pussy isn't enough to simply satiate himself by molesting your tits.

The squelching sounds of your wet cavern and your girlish moans, along with the sight of your ass shaking from his spanks are too much for him, and he yanks the handle out of you yet again right at the cusp of your climax.

"Not yet baby," he rasps, wiping literal drool off his mouth. "Daddy's gotta feel you cum around his big, fat cock," and with that whisper, he plunges three fingers back inside you. He shudders at your needy howl, and begins dillgently pumping inside of you.

With you distracted on creaming his digits, he grips the slippery handle of the whip and cracks it against your ass.

You whine and thrash again, your orgasm yet again ripped from you, but he merely pumps his fingers faster.

"Louder," He growls.

He lets it crack on the other cheek, marveling at how tight you squeeze around his fingers while the skin blooms a beautiful blood-red.

You scream this time, sure you can taste blood from your parched throat. It's exhausting your body at this point, the pleasure and pain mixing into one while he has his way with your battered skin.

He lets the leather taste your skin once, twice, curving it around your sides to let it lick your tits, making them jump deliciously and creating small rivulets of blood in its wake, behind your knees to make you buckle and fall painfully further on his pruning fingers, on your back to make you writhe.

And finally, when you do cum at his thumb finally, mercifully swiping across your long-forgotten bud, he makes sure he positions himself in front of you to hear you, loud and clear, like you were supposed to the first time.

[kiame-sama]

i need some yandere platonic relationships going on rn, any fandom you want to do! preferably either hxh or mha, any character

- You are somewhat of an older sibling to them and they both had to learn what that role means to them.

- Killua has older siblings, but they are nothing like you. His siblings hurt him, berate him, manipulate him, control him, you don't. The way you treat him is kindly and with such honest affection which he never received from his family. You proved to Killua that you really did have his wellbeing in mind most- if not all- the time.

- Gon had no siblings and one concrete family member in his life, he is going to enjoy having someone fuss over him and watch out for him. They are both young boys going into adolescence and they are going to have terrible ideas that are going to need a referee. Even if you aren't as physically strong as Killua or Gon, they actually enjoy having you be so soft and affectionate towards them. They both find it funny when you go 'protective parent' mode and chew out some adult giving them trouble.

- They will not tolerate you being taken or leaving the newly formed family group. You are the older sibling, just keep giving the unconditional love you provide and they will do all they can to keep you with them. Killua does not appreciate cat-calling so if someone tries harassing you, they will die. Gon will make sure others don't get too close to you and no romantic interests are allowed.

- When you came into his life as his dear little child, he was taken by surprise. You were an infant left in a bundle in a dumpster with a note, saying you were a monster. All might had been patrolling for villains when he heard your soft cries, aghast to find an infant left in such a way. It was the dead of night and he just wanted to make sure you were alright so he did as any good hero would and took you home for the evening.

- When he went to give you a bath was when he finally saw what the note was talking about. You had two short and stubby horns on your head, a forked tail, and two bat-looking wings on your shoulder blades. Naturally these were also small and fragile, you were an infant after all. The way you held to his fingers with your tiny hands gave All Might new purpose, to make a world that you could grow up safely in. He knows how some quirks are vilified from the start, and he couldn't let that happen to you.

- Going to school was something that didn't happen until you were around 9-10 years old. This is because your quirk was empowered by your emotions, so you truly did become dangerous when upset. All Might had trusted private tutors and mentors to help get your quirk under control. Only when you could somewhat control it were you allowed to go to school, and even then, you were dropped off by Sir Nighteye.

- All Might is very protective of you because you will be constantly targeted if word gets to the wrong person. You were set on becoming a hero and it almost gave him a heart attack when you first told him. The thought of you getting hurt or being hunted by villains made him want to lock you in your room to keep you safe. He struggles to find a way to keep you from becoming a hero or ever being targeted.

- You are the light of your papa's life, and he will go out of his way to protect and train you. Much like your father Gojo, you inherited Infinity, so he was thrilled to know you would never be hurt. It did irritate him to know he couldn't put you in infinity because you could escape, but he would make sure you were so adored that you wouldn't need to be put in there.

- He is going to absolutely manipulate you into adoring him and always wanting to be with your papa. Everything he does is to make sure you don't leave him and you become a strong curse user like him. You are his child, after all.

- There will be plenty of teasing from him about if you have a crush when you are a little kid, but he will forbid you from dating unless he approves of the person you are going to be dating. His rules are simple; he can tease and bother you, no one else can. He won't tolerate a child or an adult upsetting you, but he will always poke fun and be a nuisance to you.

- The clans are aghast that Gojo had an illegitimate child but they are going to look past that because of your curse ability and value to the clans. Some believe that you will be just as bad or worse in behavior as Gojo and some believe there is still time to make you an appropriate member of the clan.

[thecuriousquest]

Can’t Live Without You

Yandere Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, threats of violence, violence, violent quirk use, abuse, mentions of past abuse, PTSD from abusive relationship, possessive behavior, controlling behavior

Summary: You’ve managed to escape Bakugou for four years. He finds you in a café while you’re in college.

Checkout my Master List here.

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You sit at the little café at school feeling incredibly independent. It’s your third year at university, meaning you’ve escaped Katsuki Bakugou for four years. You think about how it was his plan for you both to get married right after graduating from U.A, how you didn’t want to go along with it one bit but was too afraid to say anything.

You scoff. It was so hard getting away from the teenager who claimed he wanted to be a hero. Despite him bullying you for years, putting you through absolute misery, he wanted marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The thought of waking up next to him everyday makes you gag.

Your heart feels lighter now. You haven’t been able to manage a boyfriend because of all the PTSD. It’s just too hard to move on for you right now. You need to focus on your studies anyway. Once you get a career going, then maybe, you’ll be able to handle having a relationship.

Bringing the cup of coffee to your lips, you choke on it when you feel someone slip into the booth beside you. A man’s hand, a familiar hand, rests on your thigh.

“Scream and I’ll blow your fucking leg off. Got it?”

Your neck cranes ever so slowly to look at his face. He’s back like a goddamn cockroach.

“Katsuki…I- what are you doing here?” You can’t help how squeaky and high pitch your voice is.

He smirks at you. “I came to get my teddy bear. It seems she doesn’t know her place. College? Really? Stupid fucking bitch. No, you’re coming home with me.”

Shaking your head indignantly, you make sure your voice is a bit more steady this time. “No, I have the rest of this year and the next semester left. I’m not quitting. I’ve worked my ass off to get this far.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem to hear you, and if he does, he doesn’t care. He wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you in close. You spill the coffee that was in your hand, watching it clatter and clang as it spills across the table.

You both watch as it pours over the other side, splashing all over the booth across from you. The workers there couldn’t give a shit.

Your ex chuckles lowly before looking back at you. “See? You can’t do anything right. You need me.”

“You made me drop it, asshole!”

“Quiet!” He grips your chin rather harshly, fingers squishing your cheeks. It’s been so long since he’s seen you up this close. His grip on you lessens but only by a little. He turns your face from left to right, analyzing you, trying to see if anything is different since you turned eighteen and left him. No, you still look the same. You still look perfect to him. You’ll always be perfect to him.

He whispers in your ear. “I missed you.” Bakugou nuzzles a sensitive spot on the side of your neck with his nose. You always had an involuntary reaction to when he does this. You moan ever so lightly, but he can hear it. He smiles knowing that still gets you going.

“Please…Katsuki…” You don’t know what it is you’re asking for. Your mind is fuzzy with confusion. He just showed up out of nowhere. You were scared. Now, you’re moaning in his grip. You could cry from agitation.

“What is it, Teddy Bear? What do you want?” He bites your ear tenderly.

Then, you remember. You remember the time he tried to give you a simple kiss on your neck. You had tried to push him away, and he retaliated by latching onto your ear with his sharp teeth. He drew blood that day, and you swore that was the last straw. It was. You’re so insecure about that one ear, the one with a giant knotted scar that will never heal.

You try to push him away from you, and you feel his hand heat up on your thigh. You hear faint sizzling, and you recognize the threat.

“Fucking calm down. Don’t make me hurt you.”

You know he will. He’s always true to his word. Shuddering under his heated touch, you sink your weight back as he pulls you from the booth. You struggle to get out of his grip as he pulls you out the door, and he makes good on his word by adding a small pop of an explosion to your wrist. It stings, the skin feeling as though it’s curling and crinkling around a burn. You force the tears down your throat, hating him even more for putting you in such a position.

There’s a driver opening a door for you. The car is large and black, and bile rises in your esophagus as you’re ushered into the car. You get in on the other side, trying to open the door. You clamber with the lock.

Katsuki watches you struggle with it. He reaches over and smacks your thigh, jolting you out of whatever escape plan you conjured up the minute you saw the unguarded door. Forcing you to look into his vermilion eyes, he gives you a ferocious glare. “Child locks, idiot. You really made it to your third year in college?”

Of course. How could you be so stupid. For safety reasons, only the driver can unlock the door, and without Katsuki’s permission, you doubt he will if you asked him to.

Bakugou grabs your hand, his gaze somewhat softening, but not by a lot. He’s still pissed off, but the hero seems to have calmed down slightly.

“When we get home, I’m beating your ass. Just wanted to make that clear.”

Your lip wobbles slightly, but you can’t let him see you in such a vulnerable state. You can’t let him see how he’s getting to you. You’re terrified of whatever punishment he’s going to give you. The man can be creative.

You shake your head and look out the window. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Let’s hope after all these years you can still take an ass kicking.” His tone is dangerous, warning you to be quiet.

You watch the driver pull away from the school. You’re going to miss your three o’clock lecture, you’re going to miss your 4:30 class. You’re going to miss the rest of what could have been as you watch your school grow farther away with the distance.

Goodbye friendships. Goodbye college. Goodbye career. Goodbye to what you wanted your life to be.

Say hello to what Katsuki wants instead.