#my hero academia yandere

[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 ♡

[outcasting101]

BHNA Yandere x Villain

"The Nail that Stands Out, GOT PULLED OUT"

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

DESIRE. Desire bring life to people - a purpose to motivate them to keep on living.

The extension of a person's desire, depends, on how much they are willing to risk to fulfilled such desire.

Then what drive you?

A person on the sideline; an individual who is perfectly, perfectlly 'normal'.

What kind of ordeal, you are here to gamble... everything, just - just to taste the wildest desire.

We have it again entertainer, another appearance of EyeCatcher sighting Tokyo ground at 11:11am during downtown festival.

The Police reported the explosion link to EyeCatcher, a coincidental evidence only founding a connection to finally bring EyeCatcher into justice. A stamp place town on the glass, as if that action will provoke many eye witnessing such atrocity. It did, viewer lip up to many monitor, iconic heart with variety of color.

Windows Eye

'Ah thank you folks, I'm flatter, we must support this hero to stop this madness, this is chaos cannot lead society into paradise we ideal. You support save million'

Oh really.

We'll be right back folk to another scene 'Hero Sketched' a newly found series where we bring news - to keep you sooth.

Our purpose...is to brawl; you are all just blind.

Desire, brings people together, the reason that is yet entitled to this hero era to be selfless.

Well you aren't selfless; does that really deter you from acting out, after all who can stop you from pursuing your desire.

No Home, No one there preparing a hot meal for you. Is there anything to lose...especially when you have the power...

the power to shift people's desire

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

[wetsoggybeans69]

What I'll do and shit

(Rules)

●Headcanons

●One-Shots

●Imagines

●Fluff

●Smut

●Angst (Not sure how much ill do it.)

●Comfort

●Yandere

●Platonic

●Romntic

(I will only write x reader. that's just what i feel comfortable in.)

●SA

●Any pedophile or beastality

●Not a fictional character x reader

●Cowboy bebop

●Devilman Crybaby (i'm sorry my brain would kill me if I did smut for Ryo even them aged up I view them as asexual.)

●Death Note

●Aracane

●Resdent Evil 8 (only for RE8 though)

I will add more rules if I think about any and add more fandoms over time.

Give me submissions I'm bored and want to write.

I might not be quick with asks and submissions.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon, toxic boyfriend

gn reader

Thinking abut the type of boyfriend who just shows up uninvited. At your doorstep, ringing your doorbell with dumb flowers in his hands and a dumb smile on his face. And yeah, it was charming the first couple of times… but you broke up with him over a month ago, and he still won’t leave you alone.

He’s never been one to listen, which is one of the reasons you had to break up with him in the first place. Another reason is his tendency to blatantly disregard how terrified he makes you feel.

The bouquet is left on the floor, flower petals trambled into sad, broken pieces. 

The worst part is that he knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—and still, he has the audacity to coo and hush you when he pins you to your bed. “Please don’t cry, please—I’m not gonna hurt you,” 

He’s on the verge of tears himself. In fact, he looks even worse off than you, tortured while listening to beg him to stop—crying, “Puh-please—please don’t do this, please—get off me!” 

But it’s just so unfair—he wants you back so badly. He never agreed to let you go in the first place. It’s so unfair of you. You loved him once—you can’t just change your mind. You belong to him—you told him as much when you were together. You’re not allowed to take it back. Vows are binding.

“Please don’t cry—I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you—I would never—I love you, I love you so much, I can’t stop.” He keeps vowing, licking your face and sucking your cheeks free of salt, lapping it up as you weep.

Beyond desperate and heaving for breath, you still use all your strength trying to tug your wrists loose from the strong fist keeping them pinned—but to no avail. Only left choking on your cries while feeling his other hand wander about between your trembling thighs.

“You said you were mine…”

“No, please—please don’t, please!”

But he doesn’t listen. 

He’s stuck between hating you for not loving him back and hating himself for not being able to let you go. He’s always been so selfish, but he just can’t seem to help himself. 

BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Hawks, Mirio

JJK – Gojo, Yuji

HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins

DS – Zenitsu

[aajjks]

tw/ hórny èx bf, tôngúè fückïng, orál sèx (fèm!rècíèvïng) ovèrstïmulúlátïôn, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

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

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s your fault, you know.

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

Oh, so you must be done..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs to touch you right now.

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

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

He is way too strong for you.

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

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

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

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

You have missed him too.

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

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

That’s how you like it.

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

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

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

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

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

He can kill anyone for you.

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

His teeth graze your clit.

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

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

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

[lolita-lollipop]

Iron

YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER

The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?

WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)

He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.

It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.

Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.

That was, until you came along.

Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.

“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.

“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.

He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.

The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.

He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.

That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.

He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-

What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.

“It's her, the traitor!”

“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”

“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”

You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.

He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.

Red red red red red red red red red

He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,

Red

He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted

Red

He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red

He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.

You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.

You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die

Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.

But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.

“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.

“Don’t you worry baby,

I’ll take good care of ya”

———————————————————————

Cute

Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.

Love you all, make sure to have a great day!

[dabislittlemouse]

❝𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘿𝘼𝘿𝘿𝙔’𝙎 𝘽𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙁𝘼𝙉.❞

Dabi x Endeavor fan!Reader (+18)

SYNOPSIS : Dabi finds out that his beloved pretty girl is actually an Endeavor fan. Let’s just say, he doesn’t take it lightly~

WARNINGS ‼️: yandere!Dabi , stalking, smut, humiliation, noncon, unprotected sex, Dabi uses his quirk on you, bruises/marks/abuse

A/N: this fic is dedicated to @yanderenightmare , for the Secret Santa event. I hope you enjoy this, I’m a big fan of your work and I was more than thrilled to write this for you. ♡

MASTERLIST

Two months.

That’s for how long he had been around you. At first it was just small glimpses of him on the street, quite too often on your way home, but you didn’t think of it much. Or the times when he’d casually be in the same coffee shop every morning, his jacked zipped and hood covering his face, wearing sunglasses as he stared at you from across the corner. Though he would show his face only during the nights, the beauty he radiated left you breathless, the scars and staples that decorated his face had your eyes popping out of your sockets. He intimidated you, but you couldn’t deny that he was irresistibly handsome. The raven haired man who finally approached you one day and introduced himself as Dabi, he captivated you entirely.

He had set his azure eyes on you this entire time, stalking you on your way home, learning the time when you go to work and come back, your favorite shops and bars, and he would follow you and admire you from afar. Dabi was not a man who would let such distractions mess with his life, but you…

You were a beautiful distraction.

Some fun wouldn’t hurt, right? He knew his main goal, and you were by no means a threat to his plans. How could you? Pretty little thing walking down the street with no care in the world, not knowing the danger lurking nearby, the villain chasing after you. Dabi picked on all your habits, your favorite drinks or food, the people you met, and being good at gathering information and studying people he had already set his mind to make you his. Your charming personality felt like a cure to his dark soul, your beauty was a sight for sore eyes. He was not one to know what love feels like, and he sure as hell knew that he didn’t love you. All he needed was to possess you, the fucked up part of him wanting to have you and break you, make you miserable just the way he is, only to fix you again in any shape he wanted to.

But all he needed was time, time for you to trust him and let him in your life, and once you got to know his true self, he’d never let you go.

Though what he didn’t know was your true self either. Or mostly, what you’d do behind closed doors. Dabi knew your apartment, which floor you lived in, but he didn’t break in. Yet.

And in fact, there was no need to break in. Your little naive self invited him to your home for dinner, a small gratitude since the other day he beat up two guys down the street who were following after you.

“Thank you so much Dabi.. I honestly can’t even imagine what would happen if you weren’t here!” You trembled in his arms, hugging him tight. The two thugs were laying unconscious on the ground.

“Could never leave ya unprotected, dollface” Dabi patted your back, smirking at the way you clinged to him, to your saviour. Little did you know he was in fact, worse than those thugs. After you left, Dabi went back to the beaten up thugs, almost wanting to step on them.

“W-We did as you said! Now give us the reward!” one of them shouted.

“Silence.” Dabi said sternly. “You touched her more than I actually ordered you to. Did ya really think you’d take advantage of the situation huh?”

“What are you talking about?! I swear we didn’t-”

Their talking was interrupted by the scorching heat that melted off their skins, screams of agony and death echoing in the alleyways. Dabi nonchalantly walked past their corpses, leaving behind the wretched scent of burnt flesh, one he was now too familiar with.

And now here he was, in front of you door as your cheerful face appears, letting him in.

“Mm, smells nice in here” he says, walking in your dining room. “You really look good in that apron, like a pretty little housewife. Y’really did all this for me~?”

You blush at his comment, knowing that tonight you gave it your best to cook something delicious just for him.

“Well.. yeah..as a way to thank you, enjoy yourself!”

“Oh, I will enjoy myself alright..” he grins, looking at your figure from head to toe, licking his lips.

The dinner was on the table but your sight made him salivate more than the food itself. He had the urge to tear those clothes off your body and bend you over that dining table, fucking you from behind ruthlessly. The waiting game had him edged for long enough, and Dabi had run out of patience. In one way or another, you would end up with your legs spread for him tonight. Either if you wanted it or not.

As time passed by, you both finished eating, where Dabi praised your cooking skills, claiming he’d never eat something as delicious as your homemade meal. It made you feel giddy, his compliments always making you squeal in your seat.

“Y’have a nice home” Dabi says, wandering and looking around. “Real cozy and decent compared to the shithole I live in…”

“Glad you like it, I was in fact planning to uh..” you mumble shyly. “To have a sleepover tonight.. maybe watch a movie or two..”

A sly smirk formed on Dabi’s face, because both you and him knew where all of this would lead to. He’s been waiting for this moment in anticipation, not that he couldn’t take you by force. Though he enjoyed the chase more, when you finally go willingly to him.

“Sure thing doll, sounds fun” he says. “Which one of these is your room?”

“It’s the one at the end of the corridor, on the left!” you answer, fixing the table. “Please don’t mind the mess, haven’t had much time to clean my room today”

Funny you think I’d mind some mess, Dabi thinks to himself, remembering the kind of places he had to spend his days while he was on the run. The thought of entering your room, your personal and safe sanctuary, has him a bit excited. Would it be like one of those pink girly rooms full of plushies and cute stuff? For sure he’d love to fuck your brains out while you clinged to your plushie for dear life.

A few seconds passed and you heard nothing but silence. You thought Dabi would be throwing comments here and there once he entered your room.

Then you remembered.

As embarrassment crept up your face, you left the kitchen and headed to your room. Dabi was standing there, his eyes focused on that certain Endeavor poster you had put in your wall.

“Um..okay this is awkward” you scratched your neck, laughing nervously. You didn’t talk much of your interests or your idols to other people, preferring to keep them to yourself.

“Yeah that’s Endeavor, he’s actually my favorite hero, he is really strong and inspiring. I’m a big fan of his, sometimes I like buying his merch and stuff..”

Dabi remained quiet, not saying anything in return. His silence was making you worry. His eyes shifted towards an Endeavor plushie you kept near your bed. His hands were itching, he flexed his jaw and turned towards you. He had a dark look in his eyes, the smile on your face faded quickly and suddenly you felt scared. You’ve never seen him look this way, giving you such cold scary gaze.

“A fan huh?” Dabi chuckled darkly, but there was nothing funny about this situation. He felt nothing but anger, the moment he noticed those posters hanging in your walls, that heinous face, standing all mighty and proud, he saw red. Who would’ve thought, the only girl he actually had interest in, was his daddy’s biggest fan?

Dread settled in your gut as you looked back at him, you couldn’t recognise him at all. That Dabi who was always so flirty and kind to you, was nowhere to be seen.

“Is there something wrong? You’re acting weird..” you mumbled, backing away from him.

“Why are ya steppin’ back doll?” he says threateningly, coming closer to you. “C’mere, tell me more about this obsession of yours, like the big loyal fan you seem to be”

He puts his charred hand on the poster, activating his quirk and setting it ablaze.

“What are you doing?!” you gasp in shock, scared of the possibility that your room would end up in flames. Without thinking twice, you head quickly for the door, the situation clearly unsafe.

“You are not going anywhere.”

With a firm grip on your arm, Dabi forcefully pulled you back, throwing you to the ground. You let out a loud yelp in pain, while he went and locked your door.

“Stop it!! Dabi let m-”

Interrupting your whining, Dabi pulled you by your hair, making you face him. A psychotic sinister grin formed on his face, one that sent shivers down your spine, a grin that made you doubt he was even human.

“You fucking piece of trash..” he said through gritted teeth. “How low could you be, really? Endeavor?!”

By now tears were rolling down your cheeks, his sudden change of behaviour not only scared you to death, but also confused you.

“Dabi please- I don’t understand!!” you whined. “P-Please stop and let’s talk! I- I don’t-”

“Shut that filthy mouth of yours.” he spoke sternly, pulling your hair even harder and then throwing you to the bed. You had no time to crawl away from him, he was on top of you in mere seconds, overpowering you and suffocating you.

“Tell me, do you really think that precious hero of yours would even bother to come save you from someone like me right now? Let me tell you somethin’ funny doll…” he cackled, pulling your shirt and tearing it apart. Then his other hand tugged at your pants, the flames on his fingers burning them slowly. You screamed in terror as heat enveloped your body. Those azure flames of his were pretty, you’d always stare in awe as he lit up his cigarette. But right now that was not the case. They were terrifying, scorching hot, you thought he’d burn you alive. But Dabi controlled them just enough that only your clothes would burn, he had other plans in mind.

“A man like him would surely spit on your corpse if it benefited him the pedestal where he stands today.” Dabi whispered, his face inches away from yours. “Just like he’s always done. But you’re a naive little one aren’t cha? You believe anything the TV shows you right? Fuckin’ pathetic..”

As you stared back at him, eyes full of tears while trying to cover your naked body, Dabi had the strongest urge to hurt you. Real bad. Mostly for the fact that you, who Dabi considered his the moment he laid his eyes on you, was idolising the one person Dabi had sworn to take revenge on. The one person who Dabi dedicated the rest of his life, at the beginning to make him proud, and now to just shatter him completely. The same man who ruined his life, whose face was now printed on a poster hanging on your wall, who you apparently considered strong and inspiring, a true hero.

Dabi wanted to laugh. Dabi wanted to scream. He wanted to set this whole place ablaze with you in it, hear your screams of agony like every lowlife he’s killed so far.

“Y’know, it’s been a goal of mine to destroy him” Dabi says, pinning your hands, now your body bare for him to see. “But something that will feel good too is destroying his biggest fans, show them that their favorite hero won’t come save them when they’re in the hands of the villains. Show them what kind of people they idolise, show them how truly pathetic they are, right doll?”

You shake your head, now bursting into tears as he held you down, his body almost crushing you. The word ‘villain’ had you hyperventilating, shaking in fear.

Was Dabi a villain?

“P-please I’m sorry! I don’t know w-what is going on..let me go! Dabi stop!”

“Too late.”

As if your body weighted nothing, Dabi carried you and turned you around so you were laying on your stomach. With one hand he pushed your head further into the pillows, with the other he forcefully brought your hips up, bending you over and almost breaking your back. Your muffled whines and cries fed him even more with the desire to ruin you and hurt you. Heating up his hand, he gave your ass a harsh slap, making you flinch and move forward, screaming in pain.

“That’s gonna leave a nasty scar” he chuckled, looking at the reddened flesh, slowly bruising. “Y’see how his flames feel like, slut? You want more?” he gave your other asscheek a slap too, this time worse than the first one. Your cries and begging fell on deaf ears as he kept smacking your ass over and over again, the heat and pain on your lower back making you feel almost paralysed. With one final grab of your ass, he admired his work on you, but that wasn’t enough.

You were nearly having a panic attack, but Dabi couldn’t care less as he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, letting out his now hardened cock, the tip leaking precum and begging to be stuffed on your tight pussy.

“Let’s see how long will it take for your favorite hero to show up hm?” he said, pulling you harshly by your hair and looking at your sobbing face. The look in his eyes was manic, his grin wide and terrifying, you saw nothing but a monster.

“Another soul ruined. Because of him people like me exist dollface. Never forget that.”

“D-Dabi no!!!”

Without any preparation at all, the tip of his cock pushed further between your folds, stretching you open and invading you from the inside. Your mouth fell open but no sound came out, the pain of the burning stretch left you breathless. He slammed his hips hard against you, burying himself to the brim and letting out a low groan.

“F-Fuuuck, so tight f’me” he whispered, leaning closer to your face to lick off the tears rolling down your cheek. “Tell me princess, you ever thought of that scum fucking ya like this hm? You probably have, touching yourself as you looked at his poster. His biggest fan yeah? Fucking disgusting!” Dabi laughed, looking at your reddened face as he humiliated you further.

“But now, you get his hellspawn instead. Ain’t that just wonderful?”

Setting up the pace, Dabi fucked you roughly, slamming his hips into you faster and harder, not leaving you any time to get used to his length at all. The unbearable pain had your legs shaking and your body falling down, unable to keep up with all of this. But he held you near himself, bending you over and keeping your hips in place, huffing and groaning in your ear like a wild hungry animal as he took everything from you. His hand would heat up from time to time, leaving bruises on your hips and back, painting your body with his marks and bites while his teeth sunk on your shoulders. Your choked whines and crying mixed with the creaking of the bed and his groans filled your room, and you wished for everything to end. For this suffering to end.

“Y’wanna hold on to this as I fuck this cunt into oblivion, little bitch?” he cackled, grabbing your Endeavor plushie and throwing it to your face. “Let the hero scum know how much you love villain cock filling you to the brim yeah?”

“P-please stop it! Dabi.. I-I beg you.. it hurtsss!”

“Nngh good- as it fucking should!” he moaned, his eyes almost crossed from how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock, milking him dry. He fucked you deeply, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix and making your legs tremble. You could feel him twitching inside of you, a sign that he was close to cumming.

“Mmhm fuck- Y’know.. what would probably make the old man happy?” To continue the bloodline” he grinned. “We have the honour, dollface. M’gonna breed you real nice- fuck- and have some other brats running around, making his life hell. Amazing, yeah?”

You didn’t know what sick twisted things went through his mind, nor had you any idea what was even going on as he continued rambling while fucking you ruthlessly. You panicked at the thought of him coming inside of you, you tried your best to move away from him but no avail. Dabi kept you locked on his grasp, his hand wrapping around your neck while he reached his high, his movements now getting sloppy and his breathing heavier.

“N-not inside! Please, Dabi!” you whimpered.

“Shut up n’ take it, slut. F-fuck.. take it all!” With one final slam of his hips he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with his pearly white seed, filling you so much to the point it leaked out. You felt so full, so filthy and violated, so hurt.

A few seconds went by as Dabi sat there without moving, catching his breath while you tried to catch yours, still crying and sniffing. Your body ached terribly, but you sat there without moving or saying a word, making sure to not accidentally anger him further.

“One last thing.”

Dabi turned you around so you’re laying on your back, then taking his cock out and smearing it all over your tits, covering them with his cum. Then he handed you the Endeavor plushie.

“W-what are yo-”

“Shut up and hold it. This moment shall never be forgotten” he grinned, taking out his phone for a picture. There you were, laying down with your body all naked and bruised, tits smeared on villain cum while you held the hero plushie near yourself. His scarred hand reached to grab your neck, then he took the picture, humiliating you fruther.

“Very artistic, don’t cha think?” he chuckled, showing you the nasty picture of you he took. Your face heated up in embarrassment, tears forming in your eyes again.

“M’gonna keep it for myself, but who knows. Maybe I will make it public, show those hero fans that they will never be safe from the villains.”

And with that, Dabi stood up, dressed himself up and prepared to leave your room, leaving you there, ruined.

“I will be back. Make sure to search my name on the internet, you’ll find some interesting stuff~” he smiled menacingly.

“You’ll soon be my biggest fan.”

🏷️ tags: @scariusaquarius @holydayaria @bubblegumsblog @daniidil @arinexeisnotworking @cherryflavoredkisses @madsttx @syrenkitsune @cyberdazetragedy @dabislittlebeaniebaby

[ectologia]

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ forced breeding ﾉ forced pregnancy ﾉ clit spanking ﾉ creampie ﾉ misogyny ﾉ rut ﾉ baby trapping ﾉ feral keigo ﾉ piss ﾉ marking ﾉ profanity

Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.

Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.

You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.

Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?

He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?

There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.

“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”

He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.

He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.

“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.

Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.

“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”

It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.

“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.

He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”

“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.

“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.

After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.

It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.

“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.

“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”

He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.

“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.

His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”

He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.

“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”

The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”

“Keigo, no!”

Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.

Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”

[temptacioun]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tang3r1n]

bully!mirio but he’s so fucking condescending and ‘sweet’ that everyone just calls you sensitive for crying and getting upset meanwhile he’s biting his hand so hard he’s bleeding while he strokes his dick to the thought of licking up your tears.

bully!mirio who phases through doors or smth or fuck with you and pull your shirt down or skirt up then speeds away as he hears your friends giggling at your composure.

bully!mirio who nudges tamaki and nejire to become close friends so he can literally almost always be near you. every time you ask to hang out without him he pulls out all the stops to make his (longtime) friends feel bad for cutting him out for what they think is nothing.

bully!mirio who finds your number through one of them and starts harassing you on there, spamming for hours until you answer, calling you vile things with a cute lil ‘:D’ at the end, sending you straight up nudes when he knows your around others, gets upset and spams you again when you don’t send some of your own photos

bully!mirio who humiliates you in front of teachers, tripping you in front of aizawa, punching you and making your yelp when vlad is chatting with you, ‘accidentally’ spilling his ice cold water on your white school shirt when mic is talking about your patrol routes

OH and bully!mirio who begs to be put on the same patrols as you, saying how the two of you work so well together (lie) and how he’s just worried for your safety (another lie). he’ll like immediately drag you to a nasty ass alley and grope you, fingering and rubbing at your wet cunt and laughing as you squirm and cry.

“you wouldn’t be this wet if you didn’t like me— you got a lil crush on me, huh?~” that stupid grin wide and bold on his fax as he speaks slowly, like you were a fucking child. his thick, calloused fingers pumping so fast you can’t keep up, hips rising off the dirty wall as your orgasm surprises you. you squeal as you cum, burying your face in his shoulder as you shake and cry, squirting a bit from his rough treatment and insanely fast hands.

oh god and of course he doesn’t stop, not even when your panting, pushing him with all your might, body sore and exhausted and twitching as he just fucking smiles.

“no no no, pretty thing,” he whips out his phone, the flash lighting up as he points it as your puffy pussy, thumb roughly massaging your clit and his fingers slowly push in and out, “i didn’t even get to record that first one~”

[cheesecakethots]

You’re tucked in the furthest side of the bed, facing away from the door when Shigaraki enters the room. You hear something soft drop, his coat, maybe, and then he starts approaching you.

The main benefit of him and the others joining the PLF is that he’s busier, and you have more time to be alone. Sure, there’s more security here, more people and less chance for you to run away, but you gave up on that a while ago.

The last time you’d tried escaping, he’d put a hand around your throat, and used the other to disintegrate the already torn clothing you had on your body. Then, he-

He calls your name. His voice is quiet, cautious.

You silently wish the sheets would eat you alive, and sit up, meeting his gaze. You don’t think the redness of his eyes matches the softness of the look he gives you, nor the small smile on his chapped lips.

Tomura can’t help but think you look cute, but you always look cute. His fingers twitch, and he thinks about holding you close and kissing the sleepiness from your face.

Instead he seats himself on the edge of the bed, slowly, as though approaching a startled animal. “Are you alright? How has your day been?”

You shrug, eyes drifting to stare down at your lap. He hates it when you’re like this.

“Hey, can you say something to me?”

“… Like what?” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is dry. You wish he’d leave you alone, wish he’d let you go back to sleep. Wish you wouldn’t wake up from it.

He recalls a time where you were the one who was chatty, having a nervous habit of talking about anything you could. He’s not sure if you did it to distract him or yourself. It didn’t take long for you to grow quiet.

He smiles at you, but he doesn’t look very happy. “Anything.”

You stare at him, and the smile falls a little.

“Is- Is there anything you want me to get for you? Anything on your mind? Anything you want to eat for dinner later?”

You shake your head, and he leans in a little closer to you, causing your body to shift uncomfortably.

“We can go out, if you’d like,” he suggests, tone low and almost soothing. “You used to ask about going to a dessert place, we can do that now. Or, if you want to stay in I’ll have someone bring us desserts. If not dessert, savoury food… I’ll have the chef make us your favourite- or, you your favourite. I won’t sit and eat with you if you don’t want me to. I don’t mind what, just- just tell me what you want.”

You eat less and less every day, and it scares him. You scare him. He knows it’s his own fault, though, that your silence and sadness and fear is something he himself moulded into you.

He used to find it funny when you cried, or worse, found your tears and protests would make his pants tighten around him, and his hands twitch with need. Tomura’s not sure when that stopped, but now the sight of your tears makes him feel sick, makes him wish to tear his own skin off, to claw his eyes out, to crawl into a ball and wither away.

He hopes the idea of dessert or whatever else will put some sort of spark back in your eyes, maybe it’ll make you look less lifeless and defeated.

“I’m… not hungry,” you say, slowly.

He’s getting frustrated, but not at you. Never at you, not anymore.

“We don’t have to eat. Do you want to go out? You used to ask to go out to the park, there’s a park nearby, it shouldn’t be too far of a walk.”

You don’t seem to like that suggestion, as you bury your head in your arms, bringing your knees up to your chest and shaking your head.

Tomura understands why. You used to get punished a lot for asking to go outside. The last time you had properly gone out, aside from when everyone was all on the run, had been when you’d ran away. He doesn’t want to remember what he did that day, and he’s sure you don’t either.

You had reassured him as he was dragging you back that you were going to come back, that you just wanted to go out for a bit to sit in the park. You were probably telling the truth, but it didn’t save you.

“… Cry, if you want to. You can scream at me. Hit… Hit me. It’s alright. I won’t be upset.”

You don’t want to do that. You don’t really want to do anything. You wish he’d leave you alone, though. Wish you’d keep shrinking and shrinking until he stopped noticing you at all.

He reaches a hand towards your face, and you flinch, eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… It’s alright. Please don’t be afraid.”

He knows it’s stupid to say. You’re always afraid when he’s around.

[nightfall-kachiniko]

“shut up and fuck me already,” you say, frustrated and annoyed. your partner breaks the sloppy mess of a kiss to look at you, his lips curling into a snarky smirk. “can’t be patient, can you?” he mutters, his hot, panting breaths grazes on your skin as he pulls your body more into his. “I know I’m hot, but I didn’t know to you im irresistible,”

“don’t get it to far into that head, bird brain.” you bite back as you hear his annoying voice chuckle at your eagerness. His hand grips your neck as he forces your eyes to look into his, his hips grinding into you..

“always for you, sweetheart.”

[after-witch]

Too Darn Hot [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Title: Too Darn Hot [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: It’s just too hot to deal with Dabi right now.

Word count: 3048

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, past mentions of bondage and abusive behavior 

You didn’t think it was possible for a person to sweat this much, yet here you are: sprawled out on the worn mattress, tangled in freezer-cooled sheets that warm all too quickly underneath you; drenching your skin and the sheets and the mattress and probably the damn coils inside it with your sweat.

It’s. Too. Damn. Hot. 

Nothing helps. Or at least, nothing helps long enough to be actually soothing. The freezer chills the sheets--and your clothes--but the effect is gone within minutes. Sitting in front of the rickety fan, when it chooses to work, only results in hot air being blown in your face. Even the breezes from the open window offer no cooling relief--only warm air wafting through the sweltering apartment.

Ice melts in your mouth too fast, but there’s only two trays. 

Dabi said he’d get more one morning, then came back that afternoon shrugging his shoulders. They’re sold out everywhere, what with the heat wave and all.

Even the popsicles are all sold out. There’s half a box left in the freezer, and you ration them out carefully. But you can’t really savor them--they melt too fast, sticky juice getting all over your hands, if you don’t eat them right away.

It’s been days--days--with no relief in sight. 

Yet you could maybe deal with the heat wave, could wait it out because surely it will eventually break, if it wasn’t for one wrench in the works: Dabi himself. 

Ever since the temperatures climbed and you found yourself begging for the slightest bit of coolness against the brutal heat, you’ve refused to let Dabi near you. 

He’s not allowed to lay in bed with you. He’s not allowed to hold you or kiss you. He’s not allowed to touch you. Sometimes you even yell at him for looking at you, as if his personal heat might radiate from his gaze over to your sweaty, sticky skin.

He’s too hot, and the world is too hot, and if you combine the two of them--you’re not sure that you’ll survive it.

So you say no.

No, no, no.

He calls you “disagreeable.” You call him an overheated asshole. He doesn’t punish you but you think it’s only because of the pitiful way you groan and wipe down your sweaty neck with a towel and fruitlessly fan yourself with a newspaper-page-turned-paper-fan.

It’s too hot to argue. 

Technically speaking, you[d stopped being broadly disagreeable, as Dabi called it when you refused to let him do whatever he wanted to you, ages ago. There is only so much that you can take, really, before it stops becoming worth the emotional turmoil to fight back. Retaining a shred of dignity in your refusal to play along with his obsession wasn’t worth the screaming matches, the threats, the clink of a heavy chain around your ankle.

So you gave up. Life became easier. Less stressful, at least, on the outside. Sure, there was usually a pit of stress in your stomach because of the whole “being held captive by a villain” thing. But at least you weren’t shouting at each other every day. At least you could get up to go to the bathroom whenever you wanted. At least he listened to your preferences, brought you your favorite takeout, snuck back into your apartment to steal a few personal effects. 

Your favorite stuffed animal from childhood currently rests on top of a dresser, watching you groan about the heat with impassive black eyes.

Letting go of your fight against Dabi gave you another gift, and perhaps a more surprising one: insight. Dabi was a villain, yes. He killed people and he’d kill more in the future,  you were sure. He could be cold and callous and cruel.

But he was also so damn lonely. You think that’s why he took you, that loneliness. It’s like a giant weight draped over him, abated only when he’s got someone else to hold. Someone like you. Someone he can sleep with, and kiss, someone he can whisper to in the dead of night when he thinks you’re sleeping. 

He’s--clingy. Who would have thought you’d use the word “clingy” to describe a notorious villain? If you’d told yourself this fact a year ago, you would have laughed and shaken your head pitifully.

Now, though… now. 

Dabi outside these walls, away from you, is someone else. The news reports on TV occasionally report his victims, burnt corpses that left behind broken families and friendships. That Dabi is a cruel killer who has no remorse for what he’s done, who would surely look down at his begging victims and kill them without a second thought. 

But then he walks through the threshold of the apartment and hangs up the ghost of burning flames and ruined corpses like other men hang up their coats after work. 

Honey, I’m home.

Not that you’re some kind of ideal house spouse waiting for him with an apron and a cooking spoon. 

He doesn’t expect you to cook, actually, although the ability to do so was granted after you’d been “well behaved” long enough. Knives are only available under his supervision, of course. 

But takeout is the norm for both of you. Mostly your favorite spots, when he’s feeling generous. On occasion he’ll cook a thing or two, like eggs for breakfast. Sunny side up with toast for dipping. 

He doesn’t expect you to clean, either, but you do anyway. It keeps your mind occupied, which in turn keeps you from losing it. Who wants to live in a pigsty, anyway? And you think he likes it when you clean, although he won’t admit it. He’s always a little softer when he comes home to find that you’ve folded his clothes or made the bed all nice and tidy. 

He does have expectations for you, though. You’d be foolish not to know that.

He does expect you, above all, to let him touch you. Hold you. Kiss you. Fuck you. And do it all without complaints and irritated squirming and pleas to be let go, to go home, for him to just leave you alone.

But right now?

It’s just too fucking hot. The thought of his warmth, comforting during the cold winter seasons, makes you want to throw up. 

He’d looked at you like you were crazy, the first night you told him that he had to sleep on the couch or the floor but he certainly wasn’t sleeping in the bed with you. You’d held up your hand and said, plain as day, that if he didn’t sleep on the couch then you would.

That was days ago, but there’s no end in sight for this unrelenting heat. You’ve hardly even eaten. The cold noodles Dabi brought home tonight were a welcome relief from the usual warm dinners, but the heat made your stomach cramp and you couldn’t eat much of them. 

“Hey.”

You jolt up from the bed, now-warm sheets in your arms. You didn’t even realize Dabi had come home. Was it possible to lose your hearing from too much heat? Maybe you were getting delirious. More than likely, you were too wrapped up in your own sweaty self-pity to hear him come in.

“Hey,” you sigh out, turning the sheets over in  your arms, searching for one vaguely cool spot left in the fabric. No such luck.

Dabi drops a bag of takeout on top of the dresser and you huff petulantly from  your spot on the bed. 

“Don’t put it there. You’ll get stains on Mr. Snuggles.”

You can practically hear Dabi’s face scrunch up without even asking him to face you to see if it’s true. He has his tells. Mostly in his voice, in the way it’s tired and strained. “Well, if Mr. Snuggles doesn’t want food stains on him, he can stay away from where I normally put our food before dinner.”

You flop an arm over your forehead, willing it to be cool--it’s not. “You should put food on a counter, not a dresser. Dressers are for clothes and… trinkets. Or something.” There’s barely any energy in your voice. It’s too hot to put in effort, even the effort required to be annoyed.

“Do you have to complain about everything this week?” Goosebumps creep along your arm despite the heat. You recognize the irritated tone. And you should back off. Really. 

Instead, you sit up properly on the bed and frown at him.

“I wouldn’t be complaining about everything if it wasn’t so hot.” 

Dabi turns to face you, and you really ought to stop talking. But sweat beads along the back of your neck and the fabric of your shirt is damp, and it’s too hot to stop now. Fuck it. 

Even simply standing there, it’s like he’s radiating heat that only makes the bedroom even more stifling. And he either knows it and doesn’t care, or doesn’t know it which might be worse. Ignorance, you’ve decided, can be so much worse than knowledge.

Regardless of his personal acquaintance with the heat of his body, he walks right over to the bed and sits down next to you. As if you haven’t been telling him to back off all week. As if you weren’t worried that his heat would transfer right down into the mattress and make it impossible to sleep on for days.

It takes all of your self-discipline to avoid bolting off the bed entirely to avoid him.

“You have the fan. There’s ice in the freezer. We just gotta ride this heat wave out, okay? It can’t be much longer.” And oh, the coo in his voice. The soft tone. The sweetness.

He’s trying to sound sympathetic towards you and it’s like nails on a chalkboard. 

How can he suggest just “riding the heat wave out” when you’re the one sweating buckets every day, finding it impossible to get comfortable, unable to do anything but lay in bed and pray it stops being unbearable? It’s easy for him to say--ride it out. He’s used to the heat. He lives in it every day.

“C’mon,” he tells you. “Let’s just relax in bed for a minute, eat some dinner, and we can sit on the balcony for a bit once the sun goes down. It’ll be nicer out there, I think.”

The thought of sitting outside should be a tempting one, but you’re too focused on your present discomfort. On the way it seems like it’s gotten a few degrees hotter in the last few moments since he sat down. Couldn’t he just leave you alone? 

If his audacious sympathy weren’t bad enough, it’s what comes next that stuns you into bleary, heat-derived action. He actually reaches for you. Sure. It’s a gesture he’s done a million times before. But now, with the heat, with the sweat, he might as well be slapping you in the face. 

His arm just makes it around your shoulder, pulling you close in a way that you recognize as a precursor to a cuddling session, before you shove him away.

“Get away from me!”

There’s a flash of hurt on his face before he smooths it to something like calm and collected irritation.

“What,” he says, fingers twitching, “is your problem lately?” 

“My problem…” You grit out the words. “is that it’s too hot. And maybe I wouldn’t be complaining about it being hot if you weren’t always hovering around me, making it worse than it needs to be because you’re too warm to be around and--”

Dabi grabs your upper arm. Not hard. Not cruelly. It doesn’t hurt, no, no, no. But it does bring back memories--memories of screaming matches and kicking and fighting; memories of you trying to bite him while he held you and getting chained tightly to the bed for your troubles. 

Memories of when you hadn’t figured out that accepting your situation made your chest stop hurting, gave you the ability to sleep more easily, and made you able to find small happinesses in your current existence. 

It was an awful time, then. Even more awful than the misery of the current heat wave. 

Your muscles go limp, and your chest feels like it seizes up all of your breath. 

I’m sorry, you think. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Or maybe you say it out loud. You can’t tell with the adrenaline pumping through you, making you forget the heat--though you’re in no position to enjoy any relief from it. 

His muscles go limp, too, and he lets you go almost as swiftly as he grabbed you.

“Sorry,” he says, mumbling, quick. “Shit, Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” He stands up and steps away, scratches at his hair. Paces towards the open window, the rickety fan that’s sputtering in the corner. “Fuck.” 

He doesn’t stay. He mumbles something about having to run out, tells you to eat your dinner, and says he’ll be back later tonight. Go to bed without him. 

That, at least, is something you have no problem doing. 

Maybe, with everything going on, dinner should be tasteless to you. But it’s your favorite dish and you can’t help but enjoy the flavors in between sips of chilled water.

Before bed, you tuck the leftovers into the fridge. Part of you wants to leave them to spoil so Dabi can’t enjoy them, but… he did go to one of your favorite spots again, didn’t he? And got your favorite dish?

There’s a pang of something like pity at the thought of him being hungry, at the imagined flash of his hurt face if he saw that you left his food out. Must be the heat scrambling your brains, you decide. 

Soon after,  you fall asleep fitfully, dreaming about fire and chains and takeout containers.

--

You wake up to a roaring engine that startles you out of sleep as readily as a slap to the face.

It’s a truck or a motor or a plane flying above--whatever it is, it’s loud, and close, and your heart starts to beat a mile a minute.

That’s when  you feel it--something cool and delightful. Was the fan working? Was the heatwave over, and it was dragging in a blissful night breeze? 

You blink away sleep and sit up in bed and are greeted to the sight of Dabi slapping the top of a window air conditioner which, even in the dim moonlight, had clearly seen better days.

It doesn’t matter, though. Because it works. It’s cool. No, no. It’s cold. 

All thoughts drain out of your brain and you leap out of bed and slide in front of it on your knees, knees skidding against the hardwood floor. 

“Oh,” you say, a long, languid sound. It’s bliss. True bliss. Your eyes close of their own accord and you lean your head back to let the cool blasting air hit your sweaty neck; you begin flapping at your night clothes, and the dampness of your warm sweat is sweetly relieved from the forced breeze.

“Almost didn’t think it would work.” You open your eyes. You had almost forgotten about Dabi, who is currently screwing something shut on the windowsill. To keep it from falling, you think. “Found it… in a dumpster.” 

You expect it was probably found in someone else’s window. All you can hope is that they’re alive. But you don’t even dwell on that concern for long, because for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you’re cool. Comfortable. No longer sweaty and feeling heavy, hot, and worn down.

It’s so relieving that you might just start crying.

Dabi slinks down on the floor next to you, crossing one leg and pulling his knee up so he can prop one elbow on it.

He stares at you for a few long moments, and you look back with none of the heat-induced venom from earlier. Instead, you press your lips thin, and smile a little. 

Slowly, he leans in, scooting on the floor to get closer to you. You let him. He reaches over and puts one arm around your shoulder, pulls you towards him. And you let him do this, too.

The warmth of his body is no longer agonizing. It’s even a bit welcome as a contrast against the cold blast from the AC just a few feet in front of you. It’s… pleasant. Like climbing under a warm blanket on a cool winter’s night. 

Only the blanket is Dabi, and it’s the middle of summer, and despite it all,  you put Dabi’s leftovers safely in the fridge before you went to bed and he went out and found you an air conditioner so you weren’t miserable.

Nothing is said or done at first. After a few more moments, you lean your head against his shoulder. It’s a slow move, but one you do willingly. Or as willingly as you do anything, now. 

”Thanks, Dabi.” 

He hums, but says nothing more about it. His hand drops from your shoulder to your waist, keeping you close. It’s the first time he’s been able to properly hold you since the heat wave started, and maybe that’s why neither of you want to say anything for a while.

“Do you…” You begin, turning your head to look at him. His face is partially lit by the blue light of the air conditioner panel. “Want to get on the bed?” 

He glances at you, keeps his gaze trained on yours. There’s a little smile in his expression. Relief is in it, yes, and something else too. Regret? Affection? A sad little mixture of both? 

“Not yet.” He leans his head against yours. His hair tickles your cheek. “We can sit here until you’re tired. I’ll carry you to bed, if you fall asleep.”

You wonder how long it will take for your eyes to begin to droop again; for your brain to start getting fuzzy and silly, pulling you halfway into dreams. Will you wake up when Dabi carries you, or will you find yourself startled in the morning when you’re tangled in the bedsheets and Dabi’s arm is locked around your waist?

“Sure,” you tell him. “I don’t mind.”

At least you won’t dream about fire anymore. At least, not the kind of fire spawned by oppressive heatwaves. 

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw

fem reader

Just thinking of those boyfriends who can’t stop furiously blushing and excusing themselves when the post-nut-clarity hits after they’ve made a downright fool of themselves in bed. They’re all like, “Don’t give me that look, that wasn’t—y’know? I didn’t mean—I don’t know where that came from.” After they’ve begged and whined to creampie you while rambling things like “M’gonna make you my babymamma, gonna knock yah up—give you triplets—gonna babytrap yah—yuh—yeah—gonna make you mine—mh—all mine—my pretty little housewife forever!”

BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio

JJK – Gojo, Geto, Naoya, Yuuta, Choso

HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins

AOT – Eren, Zeke

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Can't Leave Me

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

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

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Seeing a darker side of Keigo has you rethinking your entire relationship. But it’s not like Keigo is planning on letting you go. 

WARNINGS: Murder; Kidnapping. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

His hand rubs comforting circles over the expanse of your back, innumerous apologies being mumbled as he kisses the crown of your head. 

“I should’ve eased you into it. I‘m so sorry, baby.” his tone is apologetic, almost regretful, but you can’t be bothered by that.

Not after what you witnessed. 

The queasiness in your stomach increases, and you swallow hard, closing your eyes in a poor attempt to control both yourself and the wave of nausea that threatens to rise. 

“Next time, I promise I’ll let you know beforehand, ‘kay? No more nasty surprises, I promise.” his cooing has you pushing your palms against the edge of the marble kitchen island, and you take a few stumbling steps backwards.

“I really thought you’d like to see my patriotic work.”

“You…” his golden eyes squint for a second when you dodge his hand from touching your arm, “That man-”

“He’s no one. Just some fucking dirtbag I caught the other day on patrol. No one even cares that he’s gone, if that makes you feel better.”

You look at him in bewilderment, unable to believe his words. Was Keigo - always so sweet and gentleman - trying to convince you that killing people was fine? That it was okay for his basement to have pools of blood and pieces of human limbs?

The pungent smell of fresh blood is still haunting your nose and you scrunch it, remembering the nasty scene your boyfriend presented you. 

When Keigo asked you to come to his house, telling you he had a surprise stored in his basement for you, your mind wandered to the idea of receiving a sweet gift.

Maybe a painting or a bracelet, anything with a romantic meaning. A normal thing. 

But when Keigo took you to his basement, chest inflated with pride at what he called “city scum cleaning” it wasn’t at all what you expected. 

“You’re worrying too much.” he sighs, his wings ruffling behind him. “I’m cleaning the city from the filthy scum, nothing else.”

“They’re human beings, Keigo. You can’t take justice into your own hands, that’s not your job.”

Keigo only shrugs his shoulders, disinterested at your attempt to bring some conscience to him.

“I know this upsetted you, baby, so why don’t we change the subject? How about we start making dinner and then watch a movie? I know you’re excited to see that new action movie, right?”

His proposition makes you feel sick to your stomach for more reasons than one, but the realization that your boyfriend is trying to distract you from the fact that he’s a serial killer is too much.

You need to leave. Immediately. 

But you’re scared. Terrified of becoming Keigo’s new addition to his basement, if he realizes that you’re not on his side. You’re not sure if he loves enough to spare you from such destiny.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. 

You shift the weight from one foot to the other, eyes drifting to the kitchen door. 

“I think…” your voice shakes, and you attempt to clear your throat, “Maybe I should go,  Keigo. I’m not…feeling great.”

His expression drops for a moment, cold anger being replaced with feigned sympathy so quickly that you almost believe you imagined it. 

“Sweet cheeks, if you’re not feeling well, then you can just sleep over.” he takes a minuscule step in your direction, his wings stretching behind him for a moment. Demonstrating their enormous size before he pulls them back.

A not very subtle threat.

“I can prepare a warm bath for you, and then get you in bed with some painkillers. How about that?” 

You shake your head, feeling helpless. 

“No, Keigo, it’s fine, really. I can just go home and-”

“Nonsense. Besides, I don’t like the idea of you all alone in your apartment, especially if you’re feeling sick.” he brushes you off, “I can’t have you puking or passing out when you’re on your own. What kind of boyfriend would that make me, am I right?” 

A few of his feathers gracefully fly in your direction, gently but effectively pushing you forward. 

The conflict inside your mind only fires up, but you’re hardly able to bitterly swallow down all the shabby excuses and useless begging that would only result in angering Keigo. 

Your body bumps against his and Keigo instantly wraps his arm around your waist, replacing the feathers that rejoin his wings. 

He kisses your cheek with an arm tightly gripping your waist, as if he’s waiting for you to bolt and run away. You’d be lying if you say the idea doesn’t seem awfully tempting.

Maybe if he looks away or gets distracted…maybe then  you could take the chance. 

“C’mon, let’s get you a bath, ‘kay? You’re really not looking too good.” 

The melancholic moonlight hits you in the face, seeping through the locked window. Your eyes are wide open, despite the ungodly time of the night. It’s quiet now, aside from the light cricket’s sounds and the occasional car speeding up through the street.

You barely move your head as you glance towards the fluorescent numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table next to you, careful enough to shift as little as you can.

The arm draped across your waist feels like a rope, keeping you bound to Keigo.

But it’s better than the red wing that lays wide open in all of its immense size, acting as a second blanket to your body, caging you to the bed with its oppressive weight. 

Despite your objections of becoming too hot during the night, Keigo still insisted on covering your body with it, shutting you down with a gentle kiss.

He sleeps soundly, his chest a few inches away from your chest, his deep calm breathing hitting your ear and neck. 

You can’t sleep. Your mind is too bothered, too upset to even consider something as futile as sleeping when there are more urgent necessities. Such as escaping this house. 

Keigo fell into a deep slumber a few hours ago while you remained awake, thinking about your next steps. You have to leave the bed, leave the house, leave him. 

But even the last step seems complicated when you can’t even pull yourself out of the bed - out of Keigo’s suffocating embrace. 

You’re frozen with fear, you begrudgingly admit. Scared of accidentally waking Keigo up and in the process, to wake a side of him that you don’t want to see. 

You have to do this.

The first step is to test the waters.

You take a deep breath, slowly shifting your body, your hand gently pushing his arm down and away from you. Nothing happens.

Your heartbeat speeds up as you embrace yourself for the final step. 

Looking down at the impending problem of escaping the red wing, you take the decision to slide underneath it. 

It’s awkward and embarrassing when you weirdly dive underneath the wing, squishing yourself against the bed as you try to touch the feathers as little as you can. They don’t pulse or move, remaining completely still as you make your escape. 

A relieved sigh gets caught in your throat when your feet touch the floor. Just a little more, you think, bending your body to slide down the curve of the bed. 

Premature hope makes your breathe faster. Maybe you can actually get away.

Oh god, you’re actually going to get away. 

Your whole body freezes for a scary moment when Keigo mumbles a few incoherent words, shifting and turning in bed, but thankfully he remains asleep. You can breathe again.

It’s a bit hard to walk in the darkness, only the dim light of the moon helping you guide yourself, as your feet take baby steps and you prod the walls with your hands until you finally find the closet room.

The door creaks slightly as you slowly close it, and you hold your breath for a moment. Nothing happens. 

You open the light, hoping it doesn’t infiltrate through the door’s crack and search the place with your eyes, looking for your clothes. Keigo kept them there before handing you one of his shirts earlier in the night, saying that it would be more comfortable for you to sleep in his clothes than in your outer clothes. 

It’s easy to find your shirt and pants, both of them tucked away in a corner of the room, the evident contrast between Keigo’s expensive clothing and your cheap casual outfit standing out. 

You quickly put them on, looking around for your purse before remembering that you had left it in the kitchen. Fuck. 

You close the light, and silently leave the closet. 

“Babe.” 

Your blood runs cold at the sight of Keigo casually standing in front of you, arms crossed in his chest. There’s no anger  in his face - nor sleepiness, you notice - but there are hints of annoyance. Did he really expect you not to try and run? 

“I’m kinda disappointed, I gotta say.” he shakes his head with a tired sigh. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. Guess I was wrong.”

“I wasn’t-” your words lose strength, and for a moment, the idea of dashing for the door with all of your speed seems incredibly enticing, “It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah? Pfft, c’mon, you seriously think you’re gonna fool me into believing any crappy excuse? Like I didn’t just catch you trying to sneak off on me?” he clicks his tongue, messy strands of blonde hair falling onto his forehead, “But you know what?”

It’s now. The moment he switches the flip on you and beats you and-

“Let’s continue this tomorrow, alright? It’s late, so how about we sleep on this and in the morning, we’ll talk.” 

You look at him, surprised. Isn’t he gonna drag you by the hair to his basement and beat you? 

Keigo directs you back to the closet, watching as you hesitate to change back into his shirt. 

“That was never gonna work, you know that, right?” he says. “It’s not like you could outrun me. I’m too fast for you, with or without quirk.”

When you get back on the bed, his wing covers you once again and his arm pulls you flush against his chest, suffocating you with his presence.

He kisses the nape of your neck. 

“Sleep tight.”

You wake up startled, mind buzzing with a chilling nightmare. Red blood and sticky viscera follow you even though you rise away from the realm of dreams. 

You breathe in. It was just a dream. 

Distant sounds coming from another room catch your attention and you remain quiet, catching the tiny rays of sunlight that come through the curtains, basking on pacific solitude. 

What are you supposed to do now? Relent and pretend that everything is peachy, to act as if the basement isn’t torture chamber and that your boyfriend isn’t some cold-hearted killer? 

You roll to the side, yelping when your leg gets caught on. 

A chain. 

A soft leather wrapped tightly around your ankle, connecting it to the links of metal that keep you in a short leash. There’s barely any length to it, meaning you won’t even be able to reach the bathroom if you need to. 

This can’t be real. 

You persistently rub your eyes, shaking your head as fear threatens to spill in the shape of a panic attack. 

Keigo wouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He just can’t. 

Much to your consternation, you don’t wake up. This isn’t some wicked dream, after all. 

“No, no, please, no.” you cry, pulling and tugging on the solid chain with both of your hands. It doesn’t work, despite all the clicking it does. Doesn’t so much as move away from your ankle.

But it does make a shrilling noise and soon Keigo rushes into the room, a worried expression on his face before he understands what you’re doing. 

He plops next to you, firm hands pulling your shaky ones away from the chain, despite you not giving up and you yelp when he uses his strength to expertly twist your wrist, forcing you to let go of the chain.

“Keigo, please, don’t…don’t do this. I promise I won’t run away, I swear!” you plead, snot and tears pathetically dripping down your face as Keigo pulls you into his lap, a large hand securing both of your wrists. 

“Keigo…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything is fine, it’s all okay.” 

It only makes you cry harder. One of his hands rubs your back while the other holds the back of your neck, pushing your face to his chest. 

“C’mon, don’t cry.  You know how awful that makes me feel.” he presses a gentle kiss to your head, rocking your bodies back and forth, comforting you as if you were a child throwing a tantrum.

“You left me no choice. You were gonna leave me, abandon me like I never meant anything to you.” his voice is almost quiet and you know that if you looked up, his face would resemble a kicked puppy.

It almost makes you feel bad until the stupid chain in your ankle clinks, reminding you that Keigo isn’t a good man. 

“But it’s okay now. I know you’re not happy with… our current situation, but you’ll soon see it my way. I’m doing this for you - for us.” 

His arms tightened around your wriggling body, keeping you close to him. 

“I’m not letting anything get between us. Not even you.”

[zeke-best]

dabi: i don't care about my family

dabi when he thinks about his family: