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#the thought of aizawa being a soft yandere
lethxia · 6 months
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(stumbles through the doorway with a fucked up unhinged look in my eyes, at least two bones broken and blood in my hair) soooooo. mutually pining yandere erasermic, huh? what a wild. wild concept. haha. hahdhshsjjs,
#the thought of aizawa being a soft yandere#the kind with severe attachment issues and toxic possessiveness.#brushes mic off with a few cold words#and when mic even suggests getting a girlfriend he makes sure that he takes everyone out of the equation#by. means.#one step in front of hizashi at all times to literally bare his teeth at anyone who walks too close#look on his face that just fucking screams try me#yandere hizashi who absolutely relishes in this#hanging off aizawas shoulder smiling#lifted eyebrow#in the midst of battle grabs the villain by the collar#completely unaware that aizawa is glaring his way immediately to ensure the villain cant use their quirk#of course#and hizashi whispers nicely#try him and i’ll boil your fucking guts with my voice alone#hizashi is. insanely protective least to say#both of them are#but you better pray to god that aizawas the one that deals with you after you manage to scratch hizashi#because aizawas first concern is tending to hizashi#hed make it quick#but hizashi would leave anyone who hurt shouta with their last breath#just to bleed them out slow afterwards#when aizawa isnt there to witness the lengths hed go to to ensure this never happens again#now make them total dumbasses that are completely oblivious that the other would kill and die for them a thousand times over if ever needed#erasermic#i dont Care if its out of character. not logical. not possible#they definitely have these thoughts already#i just made them unhinged enough to act it out
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depravitycentral · 4 months
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Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile
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Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader
Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 12K
HABITS
In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.
It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?
He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.
Except, then you show up.
His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.
This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.
(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)
Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.
He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?
Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.
Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.
He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?
Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?
He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.
It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.
He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…
He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.
And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.
In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.
So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.
(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)
He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.
(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)
He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.
He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.
He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.
A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?
He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.
The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.
It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.
He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.
Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.
He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.
Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.
He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.
As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.
The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.
He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.
His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.
Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –
Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.
Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !
His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.
He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.
He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.
He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.
He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.
He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?
He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.
Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.
He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.
You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.
 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.
He really is a fucking creep.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS
Your thighs
Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.
Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.
It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.
And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.
Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.
Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.
Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?
(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)
Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.
He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.
Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.
(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)
He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.
He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.
He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.
You can’t.
His hands
In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.
And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.
But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.
(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)
He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.
All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.
And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.
They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.
He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.
(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)
He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.
DRIVE
Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.
Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.
(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)
He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.
It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.
But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –
He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.
And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.
But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.
Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.
And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.
And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.
(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)
And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.
You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.
But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.
(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)
He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.
And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.
And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.
They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.
And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.
It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.
And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.
Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.
And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.
Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?
When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.
Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?
Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –
Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.
I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.
You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.
It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.
Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  
MAIN THREE KINKS
Clothed Sex
It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.
Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.
But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.
And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.
He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.
He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.
He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.
And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.
And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.
It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.
The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.
And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.
He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.
Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.
He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.
He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.
(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)
Overstimulation
Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.
Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.
(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)
And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.
 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?
He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.
He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.
He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.
There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.
But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.
He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  
He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?
How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?
It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.
And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.
You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.
The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!
Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.
And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.
When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.
And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.
He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…
Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.
Anything.
Voyeurism
Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.
And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.
It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.
He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.
(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)
Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.
(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)
Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.
(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)
Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.
You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.
And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.
Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.
He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.
He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.
And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.
You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.
He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.
You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE
Hair Pulling
But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.
Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.
There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.
He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.
When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.
When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.
Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.
He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.
Mirror Sex
In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.
And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.
And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.
He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.
He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?
He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.
And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.
He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.
He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.
He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  
BIGGEST FANTASY
In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.
However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.
And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.
It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.
Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…
The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.
There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.
Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.
Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.
A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.
Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.
He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.
He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.
A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.
Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.
He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.
That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.
“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.
Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.
Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.
Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.
“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.
“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.
“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.
You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?
It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.
Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.
The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?
His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.
“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.
He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”
You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”
He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.
You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”
And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.
His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.
Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.
“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”
And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.
549 notes · View notes
thecuriousquest · 5 months
Text
Learning Opportunity
Yandere!Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Hitoshi Shinso
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug
Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con touching, non con references, non con sex, brief non con fingering, pseudoincest/stepcest, abusive behavior, sexually abusive behavior, creepy step dad, creepy step brother, non consensual spanking, punishment spanking
Master List
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It’s been at least three months since your mother passed away, leaving you with your deranged step father and somewhat creepy step brother. You do your best to avoid them, only coming out of your room when necessary, but it’s so difficult living with the two of them.
Your step dad usually comes into your room at night, sitting on your bed. You stiffen under the covers as he slides his hand along your back, smoothing calloused fingers over your soft flesh. He guides his hand along your lower back, dipping further and further until his fingers ghost the doughy hill of your ass.
You cry, a soft whimper escaping wet and parted lips.
He usually leaves once you start sobbing uncontrollably. Usually. Sometimes, he likes listening to you cry, likes listening to the hitched whine in your voice as his hand travels deeper and deeper between your legs.
These are the days where he wakes up next to you, naked, but you didn’t sleep the entire night. Not after what your step dad did to you.
More often than not after school, Hitoshi will make snacks for the two of you, and he tries to feed them to you. He will…intimidate you into opening your mouth. He stands over you, tall and unmoving like a mountain, holding that fucking dumpling in his hand. He whispers into your ear for you to be a good girl and obey Toshi-nii.
You take a shaky breath, closing your eyes to block out the sting prickling in your orbs and the burn in your nose as you open your mouth for him. He sticks his meaty fingers in your mouth, brushing your tongue as he feeds you your afternoon snack. Hitoshi leaves his fingers lingering on your lips as he smiles while watching you chew your food.
You can’t help but sniffle as he places you on his lap, turning the tv on so you two can watch a movie or a show together. Of course there’s an entire plate of snacks for the two of you to munch on. The only rule is you can’t feed yourself. No. Toshi-nii swats your hand away with a light smack whenever you try it. If you want more to eat, you’d better ask him, and don’t even think about complaining when he feeds you.
——
You thought you could get some peace showering, but you were wrong. Aizawa placed a new rule where you have to tell him when you’re about to shower. He’s never left in the dark with your nude secrets. He checks over your goosebump flesh, making sure nobody scratched or bruised his little girl. He undresses you slowly, letting you quiver and tremble slightly harder with every passing item of clothing that he drops on the floor. Soon, he’s pressing you up against the wall of the shower, your bare tits against the tile as he fucks into you, his scratchy pubes and balls smacking against your skin in such a rough manner it makes you scream into your palm.
Due to being unable to lock your door or even shut it, you feel eyes on you through the small crack, and you know it’s your brother watching you. You stand there frozen, unable to dress in your room. Now, you have to hide inside of your closet to get dressed.
You try your best to shower at school from now on.
——
Recently, you’ve become a defiant little thing. You don’t abide by your curfew, not wanting to come home and have dinner with the two of them. So, you stay out as late as you can, ignoring both of their texts.
Your step dad’s messages convey his anger towards you while your step brother shows concern.
Aizawa: Where the hell are you? You better get your ass home right now if you know what’s good for you.
Hitoshi: Hey, sis, you okay? It’s getting kind of late. You should probably come home. I’m worried about you.
You roll your eyes and stay in the library, doing your homework until it closes. You grab dinner next from a convenience store, and then you decide to make your way home. Walking in with your backpack slung on one shoulder, you shut the door behind you.
Your step dad appears in only seconds, rounding the hallway from the kitchen.
“And where the hell have you been, young lady?”
Sighing, you shrug your backpack onto the floor, taking your shoes off as well. “None of your business. I’m going to bed.” You just want to get away from him.
Hitoshi walks down the steps. He stops when he sees you. “Hey, sis, where have you been? It’s kind of late. You missed dinner.”
“Can the both of you get off of my fucking back?” You don’t like this, don’t like how they have trapped you. One is in front of you, the other blocking your path to your room.
No, you really don’t like this at all.
A quick hand reaches out for your hair, the other popping your mouth. Aizawa drags you close to him, chest to chest.
“You don’t really have the room to be talking like that, you know?”
He drags you into the living room, plopping down on the couch, forcing you to stand between his parted knees. His hand is still tight in your locks, forcing you to bend at an odd angle.
You press your hands against his chest to steady yourself, to fight the inevitable
“You’ve been a really bad girl lately. I’m not going to let you continue with this behavior. As your father-”
“You’re not my fucking father, you asshole! Fathers don’t rape their daughters! You’re just a fucking pervert, a monster!” you shout in his face, flecks of spit landing on his cheeks and nose.
Shouta wipes the saliva off with the sleeve of his shirt with a grunt before draping you over his sturdy thigh. He looks at his son who is standing idly by in the doorway of the living room.
“Shinso, come here.”
His son strides over lazily with hands in his pockets. “Yeah, Dad?”
“Have you ever given anyone a spanking before?”
You wriggle with mortification, not wanting to endure this any longer. “Please, don’t-”
“Hush,” Aizawa scolds as he delivers a swat to your upturned bottom.
You yip and hang your head in absolute shame.
“So, have you, Shinso?”
“No, Dad, I haven’t.” A grin appears on the teenager’s face, knowing what direction this is going in.
“Well then, I think this will be a great learning opportunity for you.”
With that, he raises his hand for a flurry of skin blazing smacks. You rear your head again, writhing across the older man’s lap as your legs scissor.
“I’m starting over her skirt because I want to build up the sting in layers. It doesn’t hurt as much now, but it will once we take away some of her protection.”
Doesn’t hurt as much now? Is he fucking shitting you? It hurts like fucking hell!
“You really want to focus on the lower half of her bottom and the upper half of her thighs. You don’t want to end up hitting her tailbone or anything on the lower back. That can cause unnecessary damage,” he explains to his son.
“Oh, I see. That makes sense,” Hitoshi responds. “She sure is kicking a lot.”
“Yeah, if it gets annoying, you can always just pin them down like this-” Aizawa puts a leg over both of yours, effectively trapping them.
“This isn’t fair! You’re humiliating me!” you scream into the couch cushions.
“If she starts being a little too mouthy, you can always take away a layer of clothing,” your step dad informs Hitoshi as he hikes up your skirt around your waist. “See, she’s already a nice shade of pink.” He pats the swell of your bottom, and it causes you to wince.
“Can I touch it?” Shinso asks tentatively.
“Sure, kid.” Amusement laces your step father’s tone, and you groan out of mortification as you feel Hitoshi’s fingers graze over your spanked flesh.
You hiss sharply as he pokes it.
“Fucking get off of me!” You try to kick your pinned legs as you push on Shouta’s thigh.
“That’s enough out of you, young lady.”
The spanking resumes as he pushes down on your back. A sob climbs up your throat, past a knot that you wish you could swallow. Shaking your head, you shoot an arm back to try and protect your backside from his onslaught.
“No, I hate you! I hate you both so much! Stop it!”
You feel his hand come down even harder but at a slower pace. It’s agonizing, leaving you breathy with tears all over your face.
“Now, Hitoshi, this is usually when I like to take down her underwear. You want to do the honors, kid?”
You look up at your step brother. He has the same expression akin to whenever he wants to feed you something. He slowly, ever so painfully slowly, drags your cotton panties down to your knees.
Lacking any protection, your punishment starts again. You catch a glimpse of Hitoshi’s hard cock as he palms himself through his pants.
It makes you want to vomit.
How could someone who is supposed to be your dad do this to you? How could someone who’s supposed to be your big brother treat you like this? How could your fucking mother die and leave you with these two creeps?
You hold onto a pillow on the couch, crying into it as you’re forced to lie over your step father’s knee and take whatever he plans to give you.
“And when she’s all sweet and compliant, that’s when you know she doesn’t have any fight left in her. You’re free to do whatever you want with her after that.”
Shouta makes an example out of you by hefting you up onto his lap, holding you closely.
He whispers in your ear, “There’s my good girl. You be good for Daddy now, okay? Be a good girl for me.” You feel his fingers slide beneath your skirt and into the folds of your slit.
Your chest heaves as you sob even harder against his shoulder. He’s right, though. You’re too tired to fight back. All the energy has left your body from fighting him during your spanking, and you simply sit there on your step dad’s lap and sob.
You don’t want to be spanked again after all.
Hitoshi lowers the zipper on his pants, pulling his cock free as he strokes himself.
“So, we can do anything with her now?” your step brother inquires.
“Anything you want. It’s not like she has room to disagree.”
460 notes · View notes
yndrgrl · 9 months
Note
Could u do a aizawa fic pls
you found a new job under yandere! aizawa as a nanny for his cute kid
age gap. quirkless! au. soft! yandere. dom! aizawa
warning: nsfw, stalking, smacking/slapping, slight coercion??, punishment, daddy kink, sir kink, creampie
a/n: yayyy, first request 🥳 idk if you wanted a fluff or spicy fanfic... so i chose spicy haha. also sorry for taking so long, i just started a new job :0
---
it was a chance encounter, you truly believed. your first year of college just came to a close, & now you had too much free time while the money in your bank account was slowly declining. even if you saved as much as possible, you'd still end up spending all of your money then you'd have to dip into your savings account-- something that you didn't want to do.
so that began your search for a job. you used websites, applied in-person. you thought your resume was solid enough to land a job by now. but no. even though they claimed they were desperately hiring, they never hired you. some had the curtesy to at least let you know that they weren't going to go with you; the rest completely ghosted you. from receptionist to substitute teacher to bank teller, they all rejected you.
it was extremely frustrating to go through the interviewing process then you were ultimately rejected. it was as if someone had it out for you.
that chance encounter happened while you were on the phone with your best friend. you sat at a small round table in a cafe you frequent often.
"i just don't get it, jirou!" you exasperated, taking a sip from your drink. you let out a heavy sigh. with how much effort you've put into finding a new job, you should've been paid.
"i'm sure momo's dad has a job for you," the girl on the other line tried to assure. she was on her daily jog, so she was slightly out of breath as she spoke.
with your face propped in your hand, you responded, "we already tried. all the available positions are for people with like, actual degrees or something. besides, we're not close enough for her to make a whole new job for me."
"i'm sure a job will fall right into your lap," jirou said, rustles of clothes being picked up in the phone microphone. in some sort of messed-up irony, she was getting ready for work. the universe just loved toying with you.
you took a breath in to exclaim how much you needed the money, needed a job, when a man pulled out the chair across from your table. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to be rude & eavesdrop," he began, catching your attention.
"sorry jirou, i'll call you back in just a sec," you whispered, then you hung up. "um, sorry, can i help you?" you took mental note of his appearance-- you know, just in case something happens in this very public, very populated cafe.
just by looks, you'd assume he was in his early thirties. his jet black hair was tied into a bun, stray strands framing his face. there were bags under his eyes-- along with a noticeable scar under his left one. though his disheveled appearance, he took care of himself; his stubble was even & maintained. his shirt was tight around his arms & his chest, & you could faintly make out the shape of his muscles. & god, were they big. he was alluring, with that slight smirk of his.
he would've intimidated you, maybe even set off red flags if he didn't have a toddler bouncing on his leg, tugging his hair out of its bun. she bubbled words & strung together incoherent sentences in beg of attention of her dad.
"i apologize again, i really didn't mean to eavesdrop," he repeated. "it's just i couldn't help but overhear you were looking for a job?"
"yes!" you exclaimed, clearing your throat with an embarrassed blush on your face. "i am looking for a job."
"are you interested in being a live-in nanny for my little girl?"
it was a chance encounter, you truly believed.
the job & its perks were almost too perfect, but you're not complaining. you got to move into the basement of his suburban home for free, he would cook you breakfast & make sure the fridge & cabinets were well-stocked. for nearly $25 an hour, you were living the dream.
eri, his -adoptive- daughter, was an absolute gem as well. she was a cheery toddler who loves life. she's not a picky eater, she loves picking out her own outfits, & if you turned off her show, she would pout for a little bit then bounce back for the next activity. never once has she screamed & shouted. she would cling onto her father almost all the time when he was home.
speaking of her father, you learned his name was shota aizawa, so, naturally, you call him mr. aizawa or sir. he would constantly ask you would other things you wanted, not needed. he would take you shopping, calling it a bonus. your living area was decorated, & you didn't even have to pay a dime! there were times where you felt more like a sugar baby than a nanny, in all honesty.
not that you minded. one look at him & you could already feel your heart beat quicken. maybe it was your daddy issues that just scream when you choose a guy you're into, but he was exactly your type. he's protective, yet soft. strong, yet humble.
you thought you hid your crush on him quite well, treating him as though he were any other person. sometimes you felt like he knew you were so utterly attracted to him.
"y/n," he called out, drawing you out of thought.
"u-uh yes sir?" you replied. you were dressed down still as it was the morning. he just finished breakfast & eri was fast asleep, bound to wake up at any moment. it was just the two of you.
"are you okay?" he asked. aizawa awaited for your answer while he plated your breakfast. he always insisted so you learned to let him.
as he walked towards you with your plate, you answered, "yeah, i'm okay."
he set down the plate in front of you from behind. aizawa bent over so his head was leveled with yours. both of his arms encased you, & if it weren't for the back of your chair, you would've been pressed against his chest. "are you sure?" he whispered into your ear. "i'm hear to listen, if you'd let me."
you turned your head to look at him because, somewhere in your strange logic, you thought it would've reduced the tension & made you less embarrassed. it did the opposite.
the tips of your noses touched, his lips only a few centimeters from yours. with half-lidded eyes, the way he looked at you made you quiver. you tried to create space between the two of you, only for your head to meet his arm. centimeters turned to an inch of space. "i-i am okay," you repeated.
"aw, don't lie to me," he said in teasing voice, but you could've been imagining it. "i know it's been hard, tell me about it~" you never would've thought he would have this amount of confidence-- mainly because, if he did, he should've been bringing home loads of women.
"i-i, it's just, um," you stumbled over your words. he had a smirk, amused. his eyes glanced down to your glossy, shaky lips, then back into your doe eyes, just waiting.
"daddy," eri called from the top of the staircase.
"y/n," he whispered.
"y-yes, mr. a-aizawa?"
"eat your food before it gets cold." & with that, he pulled away from you, sauntering upstairs to grab eri. left stunned, you picked at your food.
oh, how you loved telling your friends about how hot your boss is.
after that incident, you had to tell all your friends about it, so, during your guys' weekly, weekend, late night group facetime.
"oh, my god!" uraraka squealed. "you HAVE to tell us more."
"yeah, that's literally so hot," jirou laughed. "see! you found a perfect job."
you had your phone propped against some random bottle as you snuck into the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. another thing about eri is that, once she's asleep, nothing is waking that girl up. as for aizawa, he's usually up doing something else-- which explains the bags under his eyes & his scheduled naps.
while you dumped your noodles into a pot of boiling water, you said into your phone, "i'm not even exaggerating, it was the hottest thing to ever happen to me."
giggles erupted from your phone. "well, to be fair, you haven't had much luck with guys in the past," mina stated. it was true. while you were in high school -& this past year of college- you really didn't connect with any guys.
"maybe the problem was that they were all her age," joked jirou. hysterical laughter followed after. you were bent over, trying to catch your breath.
"that's not true! i could go for guys our age," you tried to defend yourself.
"okay, let's name every single one of your crushes ever," tsu said, her camera angle only showing her eyes.
all the other girls started to spit out whoever they could think of.
"remember keigo? he was like, 2 years older than us," momo said.
"that's not even that bad," you rolled your eyes, stirring your noodles & adding the seasoning packet.
"oh yeah?" jirou challenged, "what about shoto-"
"he's our age!" you cut her off to save yourself the embarrassment. "besides i didn't even like him."
"yeah cuz you liked his DAD," jirou finished, to which even more bowls of laughter erupted. okay, maybe you did have a thing for older guys.
"oh wow, y/n, i didn't know you had a thing for older guys," a voice spoke from behind you. you jumped, letting out a yelp.
your phone blasted all of your friends' laughter until you grabbed your phone & hung up. "o-oh hey, sir," you stuttered out. you hid your phone behind your back as if you were caught doing something wrong. you felt your phone vibrate, your friends begging to be on call again. "how much did you hear?"
"not much," shrugged aizawa as he grabbed a glass cup from the cabinet above you. that's when you realized how warm he was, how flushed his face was, how messy his hair fell. that's when you realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants & a small towel around his neck.
"wh-what are you doing up," you coughed, taking in his physic-- just for a second, of course. veins protruded up his muscular biceps down his forearms. his pecs were in front of your face. they were well-toned. his washboard abs rose with every breath he took. you let yourself quickly -& ever so sneakily- glance downward. smaller veins & a trail of black hair were like arrows, pointing down his sweatpants. you gulped. was it normal to have a bulge that big-
"you know, it's rude to stare, y/n," aizawa whispered in your ear before pulling away. he walked toward the fridge that had a water dispenser attached to the freezer door. "i just need a cup of water after my workout," he answered in his regular voice to her question.
"oh, nice, nice," you said. a tense, awkward silence followed afterwards. "i-i'm sorry, i didnt mean to," you swallowed, "stare."
"right, i'm sure." & with that said, he left upstairs to get ready for bed.
aizawa loved teasing cute, little you. how could he not? your reactions were simply priceless. your face would get pink while you tried desperately to hide your embarrassment. your skittish eyes darted around the room just to avoid eye contact.
you weren't going to speak up because he knew that you "secretly" loved it. you'd probably make some lame excuse to defend yourself. you'd say, "well i'll let it slide just this once because i really need this job." which was the truth, it just wasn't the entire truth. aizawa knew though. he knew how much you craved his closeness.
he loves teasing you, but he's not a monster.
that's why he whispers in your ear, caging you between him & some other surface. he fed into your fantasies while fueling his own.
he thinks about you. all the time. more than you'll ever know.
what you believed to be a chance encounter was -in fact- a calculated, perfectly-executed plan concocted by aizawa. you might've never noticed him until he introduced himself, but you're so eye catching; it was only natural for him to notice you.
at first, he cursed himself to the moon & back for being attracted to someone ten years younger than him. you're only twenty-three, why is he so charmed by you?
determined to find a fault in your character, he learned your daily routine, find your social handles, grasping at anything. he was expecting to find out that maybe you're so much of an alcoholic that you practically live at a bar or that you have eighteen children with twelve different guys. but no, he found nothing terrible about you.
all of your habits he found adorable-- especially the face you make when you're frustrated. he would watch from afar as you grunted & groaned at your laptop screen. the day at the cafe he figured out why you were so upset lately.
that's why he offered you the job, out of the kindness of his heart. no other reason.
he just wanted to make sure that you stay happy & safe, which is why he installed secret cameras in the basement before you moved in.
he loved to tease you. he loved to rile you up.
he'd tease you so badly that you -at the dead of night- spread you legs wide towards the camera & play with yourself with your fingers, moaning desperately for him. all while aizawa watched you.
tonight was different though because, with the money he gave you, you bought yourself something new. tonight, you had a bright pink vibrator stimulate your clit while your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. aizawa was offended, in all honesty. it was almost like you were mocking him.
he could do better than some toy. you should've known that. he was angry, aroused, & ready to make his move.
you were unsuspecting. usually you were hyper-aware of your surroundings when you masterbated, scared of getting caught. however, this was your first time using a vibrator, & god, it felt so good. you've never experienced anything like it before. blood rushed to your ears as you could only listen to the vibrations & your choked-back moans.
aizawa crept down the stairs, into your basement. the floorboards would creak as a warning, but they fell on deaf ears. he opened the door to the basement, sneaking in. the only light that was on was a dimly lit lamp from your room. "ngh, ah." he heard your muffled moans, & his cock twitched in anticipation.
he bursted through the door, making you jump back & pull the closest thing over the bottom half of yourself. "s-sir! i-is something wrong?" you asked in a high-pitched voice as you tried to calm yourself down.
he gave you a glare, & you felt like you were in trouble, preparing for some sort of punishment. even though you didn't do anything wrong, it was him who barged in. "what. the fuck. do you think you're doing?" he seethed, closing the bedroom door. you were exposed, your juices so clearly staining your sheets.
"wh-what are you talking about-"
"don't give me that, y/n. you've been such a bad girl," he growled. aizawa stalked closer towards you as you gulped.
"n-no i haven't, i don't know what you mean, sir," you managed to say, watching him walk to the side of your bed.
"what were you doing then, hm?" he questioned with a mocking smirk. "tell me. i'd hate to do something brash over a misunderstanding."
"i-i was just laying down," you lied. he was standing at the edge of your bed, & you turned towards him. your gaze was met with his aching bulge, & you gushed all over your bed once more. you tried covering up the squelching with a yawn. "i-i'm kinda tired, you know." you were still staring at his crotch, licking your lips subconsciously.
suddenly, his hand shot to your face, his palm covering your mouth while his thumb & middle finger dug into your cheeks. "don't lie to me~ you were touching yourself, weren't you? using a dirty toy while you thought about me, hm?" you tried shaking your head but he grasped harder, making you still. "i said, don't fuckin' lie to me." he made you nod your head yes while you look up into his lusted eyes.
"you're such a bad girl, & you should know that i don't tolerate any kind of bad behavior," he informed, his gaze never breaking away from yours. "i'm going to sit down, & you're going to lay belly-down on my lap, alright, baby?"
you shook your head no once again, embarrassed. you knew that, the moment you would do that, he would catch you. after all, from the waist down, you had no clothing. "no?" he repeated in an almost sing-songy voice. "no?"
it happened so fast. one minute you were disobeying him, the next you were on his lap, just as he wanted. the baggy crop top rode up the arch of your back, & now you were practically naked -ass up- on your boss' lap. you buried your face into your messy duvet. you felt your core leak onto your inner thighs, hoping aizawa didn't notice your arousal. he did though; he loved it.
his fingers stroked your pussy as he slurred, "what a naughty girl, gettin' wet for me. y'know how much older i am, don't ya?"
you nodded your head, dripping onto his fingers.
"& ya still want me?"
you nodded, this time with a small squeak. he pulled your head back with his other hand entangled in your hair. "what was that, baby?"
"y-yes," you whispered out, hyperfixated on his fingers that teased you.
"yes what?"
"yes, i-i want you, sir," you moaned out. his middle finger ghosted over your clit, & you jolted closer to him for more friction.
"aww, you're so cute," he purred as he let go of your hair, allowing you to fall back into your bed. "it's a shame that you were so impatient though," he said with faux pity, "i have to punish you."
"no, please," you whined. "that's not fair!"
"not fair? oh darling, you brought this on yourself," he laughed. aizawa drew his hand away from your aching pussy, much to your dismay. the hand came back down, thrashing your ass cheek. you let out a muffled scream into your blanket as you were pushed forward with his force.
"what's wrong, y/n? can't handle a bit of spanking?"
"n-no! i-i want you... i-inside of me," you stuttered out with a red-tinted cheeks.
"aww, do you?"
you nodded eagerly. he, in response, growled lowly, "you're going to learn your lesson. i don't want to hear anymore whining. you're going to be my good girl, & take it, right?"
you just nodded again.
smack!
"i said, you're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"
"y-yes, sir!"
smack!
you let out a moan, looking back at him with teary eyes. you wanted an explanation why he spanked you again. you did everything right, didn't you? you were a good girl.
"you didn't apologize."
"i-i'm s-so sorry, daddy," you gasped out, then tried to explain why you called him that. "i-i didn't-"
smack!
"you're going to keep calling me that, right?"
"y-yes, daddy." your ass stung bright red, & you felt the tingling sensation as the blood rushed to your asscheeks. aizawa let his hand graze over you, squeezing you ever so slightly.
"sit up, & look at me, y/n," he commanded in a softer tone than before. mindlessly & eagerly, you sat up onto his lap. one hand gripped on your hip while the other was placed behind your back. you wrapped your arms around his neck to stay sitting up. he leaned in for a kiss, lips pressed against your plush ones. with the hand behind your back, he glided his nails over your back.
his tongue slid over your bottom lip before invading your mouth. you let out a moan as he kissed you. he was the one to pull away, you unconsciously leaned into him for another kiss. you were snapped out of your lust when he dove into your neck, nipping & kissing all over. between hickeys, he whispered, "see? good girls get a reward."
you just let out breathless moans. your arms were still around his neck while he lowered you onto the bed. "baby, i don't ever wanna punish you again," aizawa lied, slipping your crop top over your head before throwing it on the floor. he took of his shirt, chuckling when he saw how pink your ears got. "you know why i had to punish you though, don't you?"
"y-yes, i do, d-daddy," you stuttered out. it was hard to focus while he dragged his tongue over your body. he bit your collarbone, sucked on your tits, kissed down your torso. it was all so distracting.
"why did i have to punish you, y/n?"
"because i-i was p-playing with myself without y-your permission," you told him, sighs in between every word. you don't know how or when your legs were over his shoulders, & you didn't notice until he spoke.
every annunciation blew warm air to your throbbing heat. "such a smart girl, y/n~" he praised, his onyx eyes locking with your doe eyes. you didn't have to say anything, he could tell by your facial expressions how badly you needed him. he kitten-licked your pussy; it was so little, yet you couldn't help but squeak in delight.
"oh, my god," you moaned out, throwing your head back as he began to lap your juices. he groaned as his tongue flicked your clit.
"you taste so fuckin' good, baby," he uttered, diving back for more.
"thank you, daddy," you said, you didn't even know if he still wanted to punish you, but there was a chance that he did, & you didn't want this to stop.
"good girl."
he stimulated your clit with his tongue while three fingers pumped in & out of your hole. he pulled away from your pussy for a second, demanding, "look at me when you cum, got it?"
"yes d-daddy!" you yelled out, self-restraint turning into the opposite. a pressure built inside your core, threatening to pop at any second. you looked down, tears of pleasure & neediness rolling down your pink cheeks. "i-i'm gonna cum. please keep going, i'm gonna cum!" you let out a string of pleads & moans as you came all over aizawa's face.
he stood up, slipping off his pants & boxers. he kicked them away as he towered over you. he was standing on the edge of the bed while you lied with your legs spread. "you want me, y/n? you really want me?" he asked because if you wanted him to stop, he would. if you wanted him to do anything, he'd do it.
"i really want you," you said as sincerely as someone who just climaxed could say anything. "i-i just don't want this to be a one-time thing," you admitted.
he laughed, lining his cock with your entrance as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. "trust me, baby. this is not a one-time thing, i'm so addicted to you, y/n. you don't even know." he finished his short-lived speech by shoving his girthy dick into your cunt, & you remembered just how dominate aizawa was. you let out a scream due to the pain, unexpectedness, & utter pleasure you got all in a single moment.
his thrusts were soft & slow at first. you could feel every inch leave then plunge back into your weeping hole. "d-d-daddy, you're so big," you moaned while you wrapped your arms around his neck.
his pace picked up, hips jerking against you. your tits jiggled with every thrust, claps every time he went back inside you. he abused your sensitive g-spot, ramming himself in & out of you. your hands unraveled themselves around his neck, your nails digging into his muscular back. you let out babbles how you couldn't take it, how you were going stupid, & how you were going to cum. he groaned in response, "if you're saying anything other than daddy or more, shut your fuckin' mouth & take it like a good girl."
"n-ngh, ahhh, yesss daddy," you slurred, eyes rolling to the back of your head. you wanted him to slow down so you could think again, but you liked being mindless, you liked how you didn't have the energy or will power to think about anything in this fucked-up world. all that mattered in that moment was you, aizawa, & how good the two of you felt.
"you're so fuckin' beautiful, baby," he groaned, he couldn't help but compliment you. how could he not? you looked even better pinned under him than he imagined. "so tight for me."
"please let c-cum with me, daddy," you begged. he didn't respond for a second, & you started to doubt yourself.
"wh-where," he groaned out, thrusts becoming rough & sloppy.
"what?"
he was losing composure. "where do you want me to cum?"
"inside," you answered quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist. you felt like you were in control now. "i-i want you inside of me when i cum all over your cock, d-daddy~"
"y/n. don't say stupid shit," he warned, knowing damn well he'd fold in an instant. you kept moaning with every thrust, begging for him to cum.
"p-please~ daddy, i deserve it. i-i've been a good girl," you whimpered. you jutted your bottom lip in a pout & tried to give your best puppy-dog eyes. every thrust he could see you twitch in pleasure, your expression couldn't hide how much you were enjoying this.
"fuckin' brat," he scowled. he watched you as you figured out how much power you truly have over him. he couldn't blame you for extorting it because that's what he did to you. at the end of the day though, you won.
he became sloppy & fast. his cock twitched inside of you when he saw your slutty expression-- tongue hanging out of your mouth, cheeks red, tears running down your face, eyes begging. & it was all because of him, how he fucked you. he was the cause of such a beautiful thing. finally, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep within you, cumming.
whiteness painted your insides while you came around him, clenching his twitching prick. "a-aizawa!" you screamed out in pure ecstasy.
deep breathes, panting, & sighs of content followed afterwards. he slipped out of your gaping hole, his sperm leaking out of your pussy. he climbed into your bed, coddling you. you were still shaky, senses heighten. you placed your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow.
he pulled the covers over the two of you. aizawa said while massaging your scalp, "you okay, baby?"
"mhm," you hummed, "i-i just never been fucked like that before."
he laughed, then kissed the top of your head. "i promise that this won't be the last time, y/n. i'm all yours." though he didn't say it, he was thinking, besides, guys your age won't know what to do with a bad girl like you.
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lolita-lollipop · 10 months
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(EXTREMELY) SOFT! YANDERE AIZAWA X READER
(Request given through messages: reader who is embarrassed to tell Aizawa that they cannot sleep without a stuffed animal, as it was their comfort item throughout their childhood when their parents would fight. Eventually the reader is so exhausted that they break down and cry to him. Platonic please!)
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Warnings: unmentioned stockholm syndrome, mentions of kidnapping, secondary insomnia ,yandere. You dictate what you read.
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He was always able to know when you were awake.
It was the one thing that came easily for him with you after he had taken you, the one thing he was always able to do. It was especially easy after he had moved you into his room, originally he moved you because of your most recent escape attempt, where you had actually managed to leave the house while he was sleeping, you had called the police. The call had only lasted a few moments, not even seconds before he had you roped up tightly…
But you had sounded alarmed enough to have the cops of the area in a frenzy, you sounded like the missing girl they'd been looking for for months. They had come knocking at his door the next morning, asking if he had seen or heard anything the previous night. Being a pro hero he was the last person they would even remotely suspect, so it was a quick “no”, a short visit. However, a long enough one that it had him reminded him of just how fragile your relationship was, and how you being kept on a loose leash wouldnt work.
So that night, he moved you up into his room, where you slept in his bed. With him. It took away all of your sense of freedom, your only private space, the room where you had some of your own stuff, your old stuff. You had actually ended up liking your room the most in this house, he had promised that it would be a safe space for you, somewhere he would let you enjoy yourself, with the little tv and toys that he knew you liked. He also usually would let you have your alone time when you were in your room. You liked that most of all.
He was actually able to learn so much more about you than he ever had before. Sure, he had watched you sleep plenty of times before, but it had only ever been from afar. Or through the cameras in your room. Never had he been this close. Close enough to notice your habits, and what you do. The biggest thing being: you barely were able to sleep. Ever. Maybe he was just too far away to notice it before, or maybe your lack of sleep started when he took you. The thought of that made his heart heavy.
You tried, he knew that much. Every night, you would lie down in bed, on the edge as far away as you could possibly get from him, curl up, and close your eyes. And every night the same, you would squirm, and sigh, and inevitably stay fully awake and aware all night. He pretended not to notice, as you never said anything about it and were clearly closed off to conversation about it. He couldn't help you unless you asked, otherwise, you'd get upset, he had learned that the hard way.
But he saw what your sleeping habits did to you, he should've seen it so much sooner. How you trudged around the house like there were a hundred pounds heavy on your shoulders, how the purple under your eyes just got deeper and deeper as the days passed by. You were tired, but you couldn't sleep. Eventually, after a few weeks, you stopped trying entirely, instead sitting at the edge of the bed with that far-off look in your eyes.
Sometimes it would get bad enough that you would cry, but he knew how embarrassed you could get with him, how shy you were, especially when it was about your feelings, which you generally kept to yourself.
It was always bad, but it was never this bad.
The night had started like it normally did, with him helping you with taking your vitamins after dinner, then he read you a story like he always did. After this, like every night, he tucked you in his bed, giving you the extra fluffy blanket that you liked (as you run much colder than he did), and went to get in his pajamas, leaving you alone. He only took his eyes off of you for a few minutes, long enough for him to tie his hair back and get ready for bed.
But immediately after leaving the room, he could hear you crying. He liked that the walls were thin, because he could hear everything and anything at al times l. Your cries were muffled, soft, and pained in the same way you always were. But loud enough that he was automatically put into panic mode.
Making a full sprint back into the room, he was met with the sight of you, curled up in a ball sitting on the shiny wooden floor with your knees held tight to your chest. Crying, but not the loud obnoxious crying he'd seen from villains before who just wanted sympathy, this was guttural, dripping in melancholy. He saw the way your fingernails dig into the skin of your knees, you were holding yourself too tightly. How awful.
“Baby? What's wrong? Oh god come here honey- it's okay.” immediately the burly man was on top of you, pulling his muscular arm under your knees and back, and lifting you off the floor. You were shaking like a leaf, shivering with every sob that left your mouth. Unlike most times when he tried to comfort you and you would squirm like a cat and howl like a banshee, this time you just cried into his chest, melting in his arms and letting your tears stain his shirt. Your hand clutched at his long hair, twirling it in your fingers, quivering.
“What's going on? I've noticed you've been a bit… down.” He spoke, pulling you in closer and sticking his face in your hair, kissing your head, and swiping your hair from your face. You just wrapped your arms around his neck, sticking your head into the nook of his shoulder. He always smelled the same, like some crisp orange smell with something deeper mixed with it, you grew to hate it and love it at the same time. You quieted your cries slowly, mustering up any resolve or courage you had in your system to try and talk to him.
“I- uhm- It's embarrassing,” you muttered into his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax into him.
“Oh? What is? You can trust me, baby, I won't tell anybody.” He cooed, continuing to cup your face and stroke your cheek with his thumb. Your answer had piqued his interest, yes, you had always been closed off and embarrassed about yourself around him. Even before he had taken you, you were his student, the one who was quiet and reserved, you sat in the back of the classroom and were well likable to all the other students. He could never tell what you were thinking, you kept your head down and only answered questions when called on with that timid voice of yours that he loved. But today your voice was wavering, exhausted.
“I’m just so tired. And- It's because- I just can’t- uhm- i-” Your breathing became heavy and fast, tears re-clouding your eyes. You couldn't remember the last time you'd actually cried this way, at least not with a man like Aizawa, especially not with your teacher. You met his gaze for a few seconds, staring into the way they crinkled with both age and kindness. He urged you to go on, raising a brow. God, when had you become so trusting of him?
“I can't sleep without my bunny” you rushed out, immediately breaking your gaze and flushing, oh my god what kind of idiot were you? How pathetic was it that you, a college student, couldn't manage to sleep without the help of a stuffed animal? You knew he was looking at you like you were an idiot, the way your parents used to all the time. You thought he was judging you, thinking you were pathetic, stupid.
But it couldn't be more different. Oh. my. God. you were absolutely the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. He could remember seeing that bunny in your arms now that he thought about it, when he would watch over your house while you would sleep to make sure nothing happened, you were always holding that bunny. But he had stupidly not grabbed it when he took you, instead opting for a teddy bear. How absolutely precious could you be? His awed silenced only made you feel worse.
“I- I know it's stupid- it's just since I was a kid I had trouble sleeping because my parents- my parents would fight and it was the only thing-” You took a long- shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down “-the only thing that would help me- don't be mad please I know it's dumb” You cried out, burying your head as deep into his shoulder as you could. You wanted to disappear right now. You should've just stayed quiet, oh he was judging you for sure. What kind of idiot were you? You knew that he-
“Oh my god, you are the cutest thing arent you? Baby, why didn't you tell me sooner? I knew you weren't sleeping well but I didn't know this was why. I would've been happy to get it for you, it's not embarrassing at all” he spoke, cupping your teary-eyed face and pulling it out from his shoulder, he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You just sniffled and leaned in, too tired to care about anything other than the fact that he was warm and nice.
“ look hon- ill get it for you soon I promise, but we live too far for me to go tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Can we try something though? Is that okay?” he was talking so softly to you now, so kindly. Usually, you would've been suspicious of his actions, being that it was extremely different from how you'd seen him in the classroom. But your brain had essentially turned to mush the past few weeks, and you were far too exhausted to care. You nodded, staring up at him with glossy eyes, what was he planning?
“It's nothing bad. Just relax, close your eyes.” the sturdy man commanded, cupping your head as he lifted himself, along with you, off the floor again. He squeezed you tight as he made his way across the room, grabbing your fuzzy blanket before settling into the bed, you pressed firmly against his chest. You were small in comparison to him. Small enough to fit on top of him comfortably. He settled under the blanket and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring at you with those loving grey eyes he had throughout the entire process.
Staring up at him in confusion for a few moments at what he was doing , you managed to let out a small “Huh?” before he shushed you, and tightened his grip. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders, he slipped his hand up and down your back, drawing small circles around and around, leaving a tingling sensation to rack down your spine. He had you melting like putty in his arms.
“Just relax baby, Ill protect you from everything there is. Just try and sleep okay? I'm here.” At his words, you sank into his chest, letting your cheek squish on him. He usually wasn't affectionate, this was very likely for your own benefit now that you think about it, as you had obvious discomfort with being touched (due to your complete lack of physical affection growing up).
But this… his touch alone sent warm waves through your heart, this was so comfortable, so soft. So warm. The way his breathing lifted you up and down with every breath he took, the way the circles he was placed on your back melted your bones, how the blanket was so soft, how he was so soft. It was so… comfortable. The exhaustion that had built up over the past few weeks settled in the front of your head, weighing your eyelids closed. Before you knew it you had your hand clutched tightly around his shirt, and you were dozed off, letting little mutters and snores leave your mouth as you slipped into a deep sleep.
Oh, you were just so precious. He genuinely didn't think that you could be any more fragile than what he had previously believed. However, he was so so so wrong. You couldn't complete your life functions without the help of a plush-filled bunny. How cute was that? It just made him feel more attached, you were so helpless. Too innocent for your own good. You would never have to deal with anything that would require the help of your bunny anymore.
He would make sure of it
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I love how I’m writing about insomnia as it is five in the morning and I haven’t slept yet🤪
Anywya the anon who requested this wanted to remain anonymous but Ily for requesting his! Thanks!
Also thanks to those reading right now, ily too!
Anyways tell me what you think, it very likely hs many grammatical errors that I will not be fixing. I’m gonna sleep now goodnight!
Have a great day! Bye!
608 notes · View notes
neesieiumz · 1 year
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basorexia ⸺ chapter 3⇥ emulation
professor!shouta aizawa x teaching-assistant!reader x professor!keigo takami
series warnings ⇥ 18+, smut, power imbalances, dumbification, blackmail, yandere tendencies, you’re probably not gonna like Hawks in this one, miscommunication, angst, stalking, dub-con, black-coded reader, hopeful happy ending, soft-dom!Aizawa, power-dom!hawks (I don’t know if this is what you call it, but he relishes the power he has over you.), love corner (because it’s two people liking one person, making it a corner), hopeful happy ending.
series summary ⇥ living on the edge, sleeping, and having a relationship with your boss was never on your bucket list but here you are. Locked within a tangle of arms together, you thought nothing could touch, but soon one will find out how much obsession can open all secrets. For both you and everyone around you.
masterlist. taglist.
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chapter summary ⇥ the table is set, after a week of images of you and Shouta being sent to your phone, held over your head, you come face to face with the person... who may not be what you expected.
chapter warnings ⇥ no smut in this, but minors still do not interact. blackmail. betrayal.
word count ⇥ 4.9k
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You haven’t slept a wink.
At first, you tried to pretend that nothing happened, fell right back into Shouta’s arms, and continued to sleep. All you could do was glance at your phone, plugged up into the wall. However, no sleep was owing to you, you were tired, but your heart column stopped racing. Before you knew it, it was daylight, the sun peeking through the horizon. 
Sighing, you pushed Shouta’s arms away from you, quietly tiptoeing out of the bedroom, and headed down towards the kitchen. Sniffing as you open the fridge, pulling out one of Shouta’s beers before closing it. You walked over to the drawer, pulling out a bottle owner before popping the metal cap up, steam willowing from the bottle stem. You drank some of it straight down, walking towards one of the bar stools, pulling it out, and sitting down. Grimacing at the bitter taste, remnants of the man laying his head upstairs. You continued drinking the beer as you stared out into nothing, your mind spiraling yet empty at the same time. 
What were you going to do?
Sighing, you closed your eyes, flashes of your phone appearing in your mind. 
I know your secret angel, ;-)
Gasping, jumping slightly as you opened your eyes, your breath shaky as you did so. Your heart pounded as you got up, pacing around the spacious kitchen as you did so. The photos of you and Shouta were from all around the town, but the one that disturbed you the most was of you entering his car, earlier that evening. If it wasn’t for the other pictures, you would have assumed someone had found them by mistake, but they weren't. Other pictures of the two of you, getting close, were too close for people to obviously see what was going on. Shouta always and constantly told you to be careful, even though he constantly broke his own rules as well. 
Now it backfired in both of your faces. 
Would you tell him? Do you break the allure between you two? That his job, and your career within the sciences, that there was now a very real possibility of it being gone forever?
Finishing the last of the beer, the smell of bitter wheat is on your breath now as you walk towards the sink, rinsing the bottle before placing it in his little recycling container. You let out a huff of air, the smell of the kitchen bringing you back down to earth. The overwhelming feeling of sleepiness began to weigh upon you, just the feeling you were looking for in drinking. With heavy eyes, you headed right back up the stairs, into the bedroom before climbing right back into SHouta’s arms. Like clockwork, you could feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you in like a teddy bear. Taking a deep breath, the light smell of his cologne brings temporary peace to your raging mind. Slowly, your eyes close, the smell of his light snores and rumbles lulling into your deep, alcohol-permeated sleep. 
You blinked down at the new text message you got, holding a spoon over the bowl of cereal you made. It was an unknown number, yet the contents had you realize that it was from the same person who had emailed in the wee light of the morning. It was morning time now, all quiet as Shouta was not a morning person so he wasn’t even awake just yet. You had cleaned up and showered, wearing one of Shouta's smaller shirts that he gave you with a pair of baggy sweatpants. 
He had sent another picture of you and Shouta, walking very close to each other, his hand lingering around your waist. This was during the summer when you were interning under him to prepare for both of your master’s programs. It was when your relationship was just beginning, the two of you just getting closer. Taking a breath, you moved to put your phone down, only for it to ring again. Glancing at it, revealing another text message, nothing but another photo, 
Who are you??
You sent it before slamming your phone right on the table and focusing right back on your cereal. You could take a couple bits before a ding went off, relaxing a bit at the recognition of it being a text tone, instead of your email tones. You picked it up, expecting to see something from your cousin or your friend, only to stare wide-eyed at the message from an unknown number. 
You’ll find that out soon, won’t you?
Anger and fear ravaged you, you thought you were being careful. However, it didn’t matter. Someone has been watching you, and Shouta for at least a month, if they knew how much Bambino’s even meant to you. They might have been watching you before that. Hands shaking and trembling, you angrily typed out another response to this person. 
Please just leave me alone!!!
Just as you sent it, but before you could slam it on the table, a voice ripped through the tense silence. 
“Cereal for breakfast again? Thought we talked about this?” Shouta’s raspy, gruff morning voice cut through your somber mood.
Gasping, you wipe away the welling tears before he could have a chance of spotting them before turning around facing with the best smile you could muster. You flipped your phone into its screen before walking towards it. He was shirtless, hair out of its ponytail, dripping with water with a towel draped around his shoulders. Slithering your hands around his waist as he did yours, you leaned, pouting out your lips for a kiss with him happily obliged. The two of you rested at that moment, deepening the kiss, the feel of his wet hair and damp body pressing up against him. Soon the two of you let go, before walking around to the kitchen. You sat back at your cereal as he walked over to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and milk.
Smiling, “I just had a real bad craving for fruity pebbles.”
He frowned a bit at that, “you only eat that when you're stressed, what’s up?”
Immediately you shook your head, heart dropping at his slightly concerned countenance as he turned towards you, “everything’s fine, I was just really craving fruity pebbles.”
He nodded his head slowly, glancing between you and the bowl in front of you before turning around, and walking towards his stove. 
“Still, cereal isn’t a good breakfast so there better be room for something more in there.” Was all he said, pulling out a plastic bowl. 
You smiled, gazing at his figure as he moved around the kitchen, preparing scrambled eggs for the both of you. Despite everything, he knew you so well, you couldn't help but think. Every time you found yourself spacing out as you stared at him, your eyes soon fell on your phone, which beeped again with another text notification. Quickly, you reached out, turning your phone on silence before looking back at him.
That can wait, pushing the impending threat out of your mind. You smiled as he mixed the eggs together, pouring in some milk as well to make the scrambled eggs mixture. As he cooked, your eyes raked over his form, staring at him as he moved around to grab things on the counter. 
Shouta soon finished teh eggs, placing the perfectly cooked breakfast right in front of you, paired with a silver fork. You smiled at him, slightly pushing away your bowl of cereal before thanking him. He said nothing, grunting before sitting right in front of you. Grabbing the fork, you began to eat, a comforting silence falling over the two of you as well. 
That was until the silence was broken, by the sudden vibration on the table. The two of you glanced down at the table, seeing your phone jerk from the vibrations. It was just one before it became two… and soon notifications came through back to back. Quickly, you grabbed your phone, not even glancing at the notification as your phone quickly unlocked. Tapping into your settings you turned ‘vibrations on silence’ off before slamming your phone on the table, focusing back on your food.
“So who was that?”
You glanced up to look at Shouta, who had looked away from your phone towards you. You shook your head, heart pounding within your ears. 
“Just some annoying classmate in my chemistry research lab,” you fibbed, looking down at your plate, and taking another bite, “nothing I can’t handle.”
He hummed, focusing back on his food. Unconsciously, you let out an internal sigh, relaxing slightly, and glancing back at your phone. With that, you continued eating your food, forcing yourself to stop looking at your phone. 
After breakfast, you helped him grade the last of his papers, lying lazily on the couch as you did so. Soon after, the two of you cuddled on the couch for some old movies, sharing short commentary between the two of you as you did. All while you did that, splayed across the couch, laying your head in his. His one hand resting on your thigh, stroking it slowly as he watched the flat screen tv. ringing in the back of your mind as your phone lay on the counter where you left it for breakfast. Soon, he dozed off once again, his hand falling off your body. Glazing up between him and the area leading to the kitchen, before slowly lifting your body up. You placed his arm slowly on the couch, before walking back to the kitchen. Locking eyes with your cellular device, you picked it up before turning it towards, the screen waking up once you did.
All across your screens were notifications from your messages, all you knew came from the same number. With a deep breath, you unlocked the phone, revealing the messages all over the screen. 
I don’t think you want me to do that
That was in reply to the message you had sent him, along with another picture of you and Shouta. 
So if you want these to stay hidden, you’ll do the following:
In a week, you’ll go to Bambino’s at 8, and wear exactly what you wore, the first time you went there
Trust me, I’ll know
Here's the name you give the hostess: Hauck.
Aww, where’d you go?
Oh I see
You're with him
Enjoy your time with him
You’re gonna miss it.
A hot tear streamed down your face as you saw the last message, your heart was thrown into anguish. What did he mean by that? Letting out a shaky breath, there was only one thing in your mind to do.
You wrote out a reply,
Fine, I’ll do it.
He had been torturing you all week. You could barely pay attention in class, every few minutes, he would send you another photo. It wouldn’t matter where you are, in class, during a study group, and especially while you were with Shouta. You had placed your phone on silent, turning off all vibrations, and yet it didn’t matter. You relied on your phone for work, for anything, you couldn’t pull out your laptop, every time you needed to reply to a student, or whenever an email from another faculty member needing documents. 
However the photos, despite how gut-wrenching they were, weren’t the worst part. 
Not only was he sending you those photos of you, but he was also sending these messages. 
You look so pretty while wearing blue. 
Is that a new bag, did Aizawa get that for you?
And every time he would send these, they would send another picture of you and Shouta as well. They were taunting you, knowing the anxiety flowing through your body. You twirled a twist in your hair, fiddling with your pen as you sat in Shouta’s office, gazing off. It was all silent between the two of you, as you worked separately on your own work, however, you couldn’t do anything, just staring off at your laptop, no words, no nothing coming to mind.
“...ello… hello? Yo!”
A hand suddenly shook you, awakening you from your trance. You jumped, before glancing up before eyes landed on familiar warm golden-brown eyes. Hawks smiled down at you, moving his hand from your shoulder. 
“Is everything okay?” He asked you, voice laced with concern.
Twisting on a fake smile, you looked up at him, “I’m fine thank you. Just working on this assignment.”
Hawks glanced between you and your blank word document, before shrugging his shoulders, fluttering around before sitting at the other chair at the table. 
“Keigo, how many times have I told you to stop coming to my office like this?” Shouta spoke up from his desk, not even looking up from his desktop. 
Hawks smirked, pulling out his phone, and leaning back before speaking, “such a sour worm, Aizawa. Relax a little! Plus I’m finished with all my work, so I came to grace you with my presence.”
You smiled, your heart lifting just a little as the two of them continued to bicker. Their loud voices helped you out a bit, taking in their argument as you focused back on their computer, chiming into their conversation ever so often. You relaxed just a bit, completing your assignment before getting a text from your friend to meet up. You smiled over at the two of them, packing up your things.
Hawks glanced over at you, “hey, where are you going to?”
“My friend, she wants to meet up for a late lunch so I’m headed off to meet her,” you said, sliding your laptop into your tote bag. 
Hawks hummed, glancing up and smiling a bit before waving you off. Shouts glanced up from his own laptop, his eyebrows perking up a bit before also giving you a short wave. You eaves back at him, before walking out of the office. As you walked down the hallway, headed towards the elevator, your phone lit up. Heart-stopping for a bit, only to realize the message was from Shouta himself. 
Didn’t get to say a proper goodbye because of the nosy bird, but I’ll be sure to give you one before you leave for the night. 
You smiled, to the point of your cheeks hurting as you sent a reply before fully focusing on your destination. You soon met up with your friend, the two of you sitting down at a cafe right on campus. The two of you talked, having a wild discussion concerning her own love life and your “lack” of. As the conversation settled down, the two of you soon returned back to your own destination, Shouta’s office in mind for you. As you walked back, your phone lit up again, you hadn't gotten a single text from the stalker since you left his office. So assuming so, you thought this was Shouta, considering you just texted him about if he was still in his office. 
You hadn’t smiled all week, love, but I’m glad I got to see it in person once again.
This time, it wasn’t a picture of you and Shouta, but rather a picture of you, walking away from the cafe… A picture of you right now, smile wide as your heart froze, as you glanced around. Looking for something, anything to indicate that you could find the person. People walked past you, walked around your fidgeting figure as you paced around the sidewalk, holding your bag close to you. 
Your phone lights up again. 
Don’t bother looking, just remember, tomorrow is the day. 
Be there, or else.
The dress was pure white, silk in nature too. It was expensive, and one of your most precious gifts from Shouta. As you entered the restaurant, you smiled at the hostess manning the front podium. Your long braids were in a ponytail, with the curled ends tucked up, clipped with a beautiful butterfly clip. You smiled at her. 
“Hi, what is the name on the reservation?”
Your mind flashed back to the name revealed in the text messages, one of many you got in the morning. 
“Hauck,’ you said, a forced smile on your face. 
She glanced down at her tablet, smiling before looking back up at you.
“I see you, your other party has yet to have arrived, would you like to be seated?”
You told her yes, following after her as she led you inside the building. As you passed all the tables, your heart, which was already beating with so much worry, recognized the path on the way to the private rooms. Your intuition was correct as she turned down the hallway, revealing the sliding doors, each adorned with their own numbers. She led you down the room until your eyes set on the familiar number, two with the attached door.
It was the same private room Shouta got you when you came here. Was this person hellbent on recreating the first time you ever came here?
You shook your head, clutching your purse close to you. No. That couldn't be, this had to be a coincidence. 
The woman smiled, opening the door and revealing the private room, looking just the same as it did a month ago. You smile at her, thanking her before entering the room. The seats were made of black velvets, comforting, and the ambiance a warm glow, much like an amber-filled sunset. On the table, two glasses sat, one in front of each seat. A bottle of wine caught your attention, soon realized that it was the same brand of wine you and Shouta drank together. As you faced forward, sitting in the very same seat as last time, wearing the very dress that you did so… Everything was the same from that night, everything except for…
Laughter echoed through the room, a glass of wine being shared between two souls, in which nothing else mattered but the two of them. 
“Okay, so it wasn’t just me then?”
Shouta shook his head, cheeks warm from the constant flow of wine, “nope, it was not just you. She’s like that with everyone, you’ll get used to it.”
“Get used to it? Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, before picking up your glass, and sipping down the rest of your champagne. 
Dinner was long done between the two of you, dessert already packed up and ready to be taken out. However, you were waiting for Shouta to feel comfortable enough to drive you two back to the hotel. You probably should have encouraged him to drink as much as he did, even though it was three glasses, you both agreed you’d rather wait. Plus, this room was expensive so you two would make the best of it as much as you could. 
“She needs to understand that she can’t treat everyone like that before she makes the wrong person mad.”
The two of you were discussing one of Shouta’s fellow professors, an old head that was recently tenured. While helping Shouta run some errands concerning the anatomy labs before the week-long break, you ran into her and it wasn’t a very pleasant meeting as well. 
Shouta chuckled at your words, before drinking down the cold glass of water the waiter had given him. As you drain you stared on, smiling. Once he finished, he looked at you, before asking why you were looking at him like that. 
“Playfully rolling your eyes, you reached out to him, “thank you, for this, for today, for everything. I know you were against things like this, but you still did it. Thank you.”
He squeezed your hand before lifting it up, giving it a kiss, “you know I’ll do everything for you.”
“Wow, you really do listen.”
Shattering your memory, your eyes widened at the voice towards the entrance… the familiar voice as well. Slowly turn your head, making eye contact with golden-brown eyes. Glancing up and down his full figure, he was wearing a white shirt, holding his suit jacket in his arms as he stood within the doorway. Your eyes not leaving his form as he thanked the hostess who brought you here before walking inside. The hostess slid the door close, so it was now just the two of you. 
Hawks said nothing as he walked over to you, placing his jacket on the backrest of the chair before sliding into the chair. He grabbed the menu sitting in front of you, flipping through it before looking back up at you. He smiled, to others, it was an innocent one, but that smile paired with those eyes, filled with malice. 
“Have you looked through the menu yet? Get whatever you want, you know it’s on me.”
You still hadn’t said anything, still looking straight at him, eyes glazed over.
Hawks.
It was Hawks.
Keigo. 
The same man who was helping you with your thesis paper. The same man who you would meet up with for coffee, and talk shit about your fellow co-workers. A flash of him in Shouta’s office a couple of days ago came to your mind, his huge smile denoting him. You thought back to every single encounter with him, was it a lie? Was everything about you two’s friendship a lie? What was his problem? How did he even find out? How…
A snap broke you out of your trance, turning and facing Hawk— Keigo once more.
“Everything okay there? You haven’ even touch the wine I had the waiter bring.”
Blinking, you glanced over at the wine glass, which was now filled up halfway. You looked back at him, saw him lean back into his seat, and turned to the seat as he swallowed his own drink down. Sighing, nodding his head as he faced forward, placing his glass down on the table. He took another look at you before sighing and reaching down in his pockets. 
“Think it might be best if you take a sip of the wine, it's your favorite right?”
As he said that, something hard fell onto the table. You glanced over to where the sound came from, only to see his phone placed right on the table. Heart pounding as the screen came on… only to find a picture of you and Shouta staring right back at you. Your eyes flicked between him and his phone, before slowly reaching towards the glass, and picking it up. Swirling the wine in your glass, you wafted it towards you, the familiar smell and nothing extra hitting your nose, before taking a tentative sip. 
He smiled as you said, “it… it is my favorite, and it’s good. Thank you, Hawks.” Your voice came out a bare whisper, as you began to slowly place it down. 
He chuckled, “I know I told you to call me that, but I think a night like this constitutes my real name.”
You blinked, slowly nodding your head, “well, thank you, Keigo.”
He inhaled deeply at that, leaning back as he did so. The waiter soon came into the room, not before giving a knock and Keigo telling him to come in. He asked if the two of you were ready to order. You glanced down at your unopened menu, before looking at the waiter, however, Keigo spoke before you could even think of saying anything. 
“Yes, calamari for an appetizer while I’ll have the lobster tail and she will have the surf and turf dinner, everything well done of course.”
You blinked, no words coming from you as the waiter said of course, before taking the menus from in front of the two of you. Even the meals were the same, Shouta had gotten the lobster tails while you wanted to try a bit of everything, so surf and turf were perfect for you. The waiter smiled, saying he’ll be back with your orders before waking out of the private room. The moment he slid the door shut, the two of you turned to each other, looking into each other's eyes. His eyes were lowered, not once leaving you even as he reached out to his nearly empty glass, before downing the rest of it. Your ears were hot, it was taking everything in you right now to now burst out into tears right here in this restaurant. Reaching over, you grabbed the wine glass, drinking down a lot more than your previous sip. He kept his eyes on you as you did so, not saying anything as you suddenly grabbed the bottle, filling up your now empty cup. 
“You might want to slow down there, huh?”
You looked over at him, bitter words of anger threatening to spill from your mouth but your eyes fell right back on his phone. You took a deep breath, and another sip of your wine, before placing both right back on the table. He smirked the moment he did that, sitting up straight in his seat.
“So humor me,” he stared, as he leaned into his seat, “for the next two hours this,” he held up his phone, “doesn’t exist.”
You blinked between the device and him. How truly deranged was this man? This man that you trusted, who would help you, who you would call a close friend. If there was someone you would tell about you and Shuta first, it would have been him. Did you ever really know him? He awaited your answer, waving the phone in his hands. You knew, deep down, this wasn’t a question, but a demand, do it, or this email is sent out to everyone that matters. Slowly, you nodded your head, agreeing to his terms. 
He smiled at that, before sliding the phone right back into his pocket. The waiter came back, holding a steaming hot plate of fried squid. He placed it between the two of you, along with placing two much smaller ones between the two of you.
“Will that be all between the two of you?”
Keigo pulled out his award-winning smile, “yes that will be it, thank you very much.”
The man smiled and nodded before taking his leave once again, leaving the two of you alone for another 10-15 minutes until your food was ready. As you waited, Keigo easily started a conversation, as if it was one of the times you were getting coffee. No matter how much you tried to lie to yourself, Keigo knew how to bring something out of you. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you relax more and more, the wine he was feeding you, helping your loosening of behavior. You drank more and more, and the food soon came, but yet you two couldn't stop talking, Keigo only interrupting to ask for two glasses of water to help sober the two of you up. 
“So out of all the books in the world, Green Eggs and Ham had the biggest impact on you?” You couldn't help but ask, snickering as you took the final bite of your dinner. 
He shrugged his shoulders, wiping the drip of garlic butter from his face, “I can’t help it, it truly,” he sighed dramatically, “inspired something in me.”
You snickered, “a children’s story… should have expected it honestly.”
“Glad you think so highly of me.”
The silence soon settled after his words, reaching over to finish the last two of your wine, before reaching over the bottle. Right as your hand is clasped around the neck of the wine glass, a larger hand soon clasped around your wrists. You looked up, looking Keigo right in the eyes as he pulled your hand away from the alcohol, before pulling you up to your feet. Your heart was racing, not fighting him as he pulled you over to him, standing right in front of you. He then pulled you down, his other hand sliding onto your side, dangerously close to our bottom. You tried to pull away but his grip kept you right there, his other hand leaving your own before caressing your skin. You swarmed, wriggling away from his touch but aching pressure had you gasping, keeping you right in place. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled under his breath, his hot breath fanning against your face. 
You flinched trying, to move back. Your fingers trembling and anxious as his thumb reaches down to your lips, pressing up against them before slowly pulling your bottom lip down. The light pink gloss on your lips stained his finger, but he ignored it as he continued to gaze at you. 
“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said next, his hands sliding up your arm.
“Keigo,” you began to protest but he shushed you, before pulling you right into his lap. 
He forced your lips to split around him, resting on each side of the chair. One hand continued to rest on your ass, while his other hand went back up to your face, resting right under your chin. He steeled his hand, forcing you to look into his eyes once again. You let out a shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but his eyes filled with sinister intentions. 
“Keigo… What do you want from me?” you whispered to him, eyes welling with tears. 
He took a breath, “all I need from you, all I need from you, is to do exactly what I say when I say it. Do that,” his hand suddenly left your bottom before holding right up to your face, suddenly revealing his phone. 
“And everything on here stays on here, and nowhere else.”
<<<<previous. next>>>>
taglist: @deegausserr @ryutotsukai0824 @lik0 @yaygurist @megnotfound
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i-cant-sing · 2 years
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Can Enji be a Yandere romantic for à woman more Young than him ? Like Yandere an Sugar Daddy ?
Yandere Sugar Daddy Enji
Okay there's only like a handful of people who'd be yandere sugar daddies and Enji is on top of the list. Others may include AFO, Aizawa, Toji, etc.
Anyways, let's get back to flame hero:
I think he'd start this as a one night stand, just some time to release all that stress. But one night turns to two, to three, to weeks and months. He's hooked onto you, particularly the way you always ask how's he doing, if he's tired from the day then you'll offer to take care of his needs while he loes down, and how you always greet him goodbye, eyes twinkling up at him as if he's really the no.1 hero in your eyes.
Soon, he proposes that you become his sugar baby for a huge cheque. You agree because (1) that's a lot of money (2) Enji has been a gentleman, a little weird but you guess that comes with age, but he's not a freak and respects your boundaries (3) that's a lot of money.
Being Enji's sugar baby has a lot of benefits because it's not always about sex, sometimes he'll just call you over because he's lonely. You suppose when you're at the top of your field, it's hard to keep friends, so you feel pity and come over most of time when he calls you past midnight.
He likes it when you come over and kiss him, before going to couch or his bed where you two just cuddle and talk- you talk mostly, and he just basks in your warmth. The next morning, he drops you off at your place and asks how much for last night. His heart skips a beat when you smile and shake your head, saying "no charge. I enjoy our time together. You're a really good listener."
Another thing Enji loves about you is your body. Its so small, so tiny and so weak. He could break you in half with his bare hands, and yet you trust him enough not to. Enji could be pounding deep into you and growls into your ear "you're so- so fucking tiny- fuck-" and his lips curl up a little when you pout and manage to gasp out "-am n-not. Y-you're too big! Ah-!"
Enji never thought he'd like someone your age, someone younger than him. But you get him, you understand him in a way no one else has. Not Rei, not Hawks, no one. It's like you're the missing to key to his cold, dead heart. You're his perfect fit.
He's addicted to your kisses, they're so soft, so passionate and yet so mature? Your lips are soft and plump, but it's the way you lean into the kiss- lean into him, as if you're clinging onto a hero for dear life, and how you smile when the kiss ends, eyes still closed and you let out a dreamy sigh.
It sends tingle down his spine. Does he really have that effect on you?
Enji has trouble accepting the fact that you're getting paid a very handsome sum of money to act like this, like a lover. He believes he'd know it if you were faking it, after all, he's the no.1 hero. Surely, you can't be faking all those smiles and dreamy eyes and moans.
So eventually, he pops up the question- be in a relationship with him. He doesn't expect you to be this shocked, you were choking on your food when he asked you to be exclusive with him. "Are you okay?" Enji asks as he comes to your side, giving you his wine and patting your back. You manage to calm down and nod. "Yeah, you just took me by surprise. Um, I'm flattered Enji but I'll have to say no." You wiped your mouth. "Its just- I already have a boyfriend. And even if I didn't, I don't think we'd be good together. I mean even if we ignore the age gap, I don't think I can adjust to your lifestyle, always being in the limelight and stuff. I'll understand if you don't want to continue our contract-"
"No, its fine. Things stay the way they were."
Things did not stay the way they were.
Not because of you though. You continued to act normal and played the role of sugar baby the way you did before, but Enji... he had become different. Very different. When Enji and you had started out this mutually beneficial thing, you both had some rules set. For Enji, it was the usual- dont take his pictures/talk/post about him on social media. For you it was- he can call you over anytime, but he can't come over to your place without calling. Both of you agreed to not recognise each other when you bump into one another in public.
So what was Enji doing coming to your apartment where your nosy neighbours were for sure looking at him entering your apartment? You let that slip since your boyfriend (who while knew about your job, didn't want any of your clients barging into your place) wasn't home that day.
However you just couldn't let it pass when Enji showed up at your college in his fancy car. Granted he didn't come out of his car (although, it was you who rushed to message him to not get out of the car. Enji was more than happy to come out and lean against his car wearing his shades and holding a bouquet of flowers.), still a lot of students saw you getting in his luxury car. You got mad and told him that he was violating the agreement, that he was disrespecting you. Enji's face fell, and he explained that he just had a bad day at work because he'd seen too many people die and just wanted to see you. Of course, you felt awful now but you still told him that he could've called you and you would've come to his place.
One of the things that made you agree to becoming his sugar baby was that Enji was non-judgemental, or if he did judge, he kept his opinions to himself.
So it was really annoying when he started lecturing you about how you shouldn't stay too late out at parties with your friends. Or the time he came over to your place, unannounced, and found you high with pot, telling you "Say no to drugs, Y/n. Stay in school." Or how he starts stocking your fridge with healthier meals, throwing out all frozen and cup noodles, cleaning up around your house, muttering about how you're young and should be more organised than this.
Perhaps the one that finally ticked you off was when Enji saw a photoframe of you and your boyfriend and he began badmouthing him. "He looks so weak, how could he ever protect you? Look at his clothes, he can't even dress himself well. He is making you look bad standing next to you. And why did he take you out to a carnival? Can't he afford to take you to a better place for date-"
"Enji. I think it's time to stop this."
"I agree. Your boyfriend never had much to start with-"
"No, I mean we should stop seeing each other. Stop our contract. You can keep this month's cheque."
Enji looked perplexed. "What? I don't understand. Why?"
You shrugged, thinking of a way to end things smoothly. "I just- I just don't want to do this anymore. Its disrupting my life- its me, not you Enji. I just can't keep up with this anymore."
Ah. The classic "its me, not you" move.
Enji tried to argue, but you just shut him down gently.
However, Enji wasn't one to give up so easily. He was a gentleman, and he would fight for the love of his life. You're too young, too naive to see what's good for you.
Fortunately, Enji has endless patience when it comes to you and he'll make you see he's the best for you. He'll take care of you, you'll never have to work or study again. Just be with him, be his little housewife, and Enji will make sure that all your needs are met- both in and out of bed.
From the cameras he'd secretly installed in your home, Enji watches you and your boyfriend make love.
Enji scoffs. That useless piece of skin doesn't know your body like he does, and poor you- you're faking all your reactions. You're too sweet like that.
Don't worry, darling. I'll get rid of him for us.
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Yandere EraserMic- primarily Aizawa coming to the conclusion that harsh orders and threats of punishment just makes you terrified of him and that he has to be gentle with his sweet sensitive little Kitten. Your feelings are just so easily hurt, he doesn’t even mean to be so harsh, honest! Meanwhile, Hizashi is such a natural at getting his princess to sing 🎶 he cant help feeling jealous
The teacher looked at the two of you from the doorway with crossed arms. You were sitting on the bed doodling while his husband happily went on about his day using gestures and poking you occasionally. All you did was briefly look at him before continuing your activity, not bothering to engage with the radio host as he continued on. 
Why wasn’t that him?
Out of worry of Hizashi not being too firm, he had played ‘bad cop’ setting the rules and reminding you of the punishments that would entail. Said-punishment was mostly just lecturing you when you got ahold of his computer. You had tried to notify ‘your friends’ who had laughed at how ‘silly’ you were for disappearing off the face of the Earth for two whole weeks and still eluding the police. He let you play out the rest of the interaction in front of him proving that your friends weren’t actually thinking of your best interest. Proving him right the conversation steered to you being an attention hog and them being more than thrilled about your disappearance before blocking you. He sccolded you, not for trying to escape but for even going to them in the first place. This was the reason they took you, why couldn’t you accept that?! You cried and denied him as you had begun to do everytime he asked anything of you. He was tired of it, especially when you seemed perfectly fine with Hizashi.
“Heya Songbird, have you spoken to Sho, today?”
The mention had you sending a prolonged glance to the curious gaze before rolling your eyes and continuing what you were doing. His smile fell before returning once more as he momentarily peaked at his significant other who finally left in a huff. 
“Y’know he likes you just as much as I do? He was just concerned that's all…”
“Concerned enough to just yell at me?”
He nearly reeled back in shock at the bite in your voice as you started drawing vigorously. He was happy you cared but it seemed that you misinterpreted his beloved’s concern. Internally he puffed his chest and gleamed: time to play cupid! With a boastful till in his voice he leaned in closer to you practically swooning as you let his cheek touch your uncovered shoulder. 
“Zawa is a teacher, after all it's usual that he slips into teacher-mode when he’s frustrated.”
You huffed and cutely pouted as you focused on your drawings again, unconsciously leaning into the massaging that Hizashi was giving you. Slotting himself behind you he had you sit in between his legs with his head right near your ear. 
“If he was a bit..softer would you maybe give him a chance?”
You paused your drawing as you looked up into the the canopycover that hung over your bed before humming in thought. You were completely oblivious to the joyful preening of the pro hero behind you who finally came back to reality when you spoke. 
“Maybe…but I’m still mad at the both of you for kidnapping me in the first place.”
“Okay, Songbird.”
“And don’t tell him that I said any of this, I don’t need him sucking up to me all of a sudden.”
“Hai, hai, my chops are sealed!” 
__________________________________________________________
Shota was trying to calm his nerves as he sat beside you on the couch. Occupied with his own task of grading papers, he casually left a piping hot mug of your favorite drink in front of you. Without looking away he could feel you perk up before wrapping your hands around the mug and drinking away. He fought the urge to proudly smile as he witnessed his plan take into effect; after some *hints from someone anonymous* he had found himself treating you like a misbehaving dog when in fact you were a soft little kitten who had gone through so much before they lovingly intervened. So he treats you like the hesitant foster kittens that he’s homed from time-to-time by first beginning to associate him with good things.
So for at least three weeks he will bring you something everytime you have these moments where Hizashi is out and he’s left to watch you while you lounge on the couch. It's a silent offering when he just casually passes things to you from snacks from places you used to frequent to full-on meals from restaurants you used to treat yourself to. This wouldn’t mean much if you hadn’t already witnessed Hizashi throwing your leftovers away as he mumbled about throwing away your ‘poison food’. It wasn’t planned that Shota would now be the ‘good cop’ but it still worked and slowly but surely you began opening up to him. 
And like most of his foster kittens eventually you move in closer to him. Physically brushing beside him to full on leaning on him when he sets himself beside you. From then on the pro-hero hesitates to ‘punish’ you if at all. More like light reprimands if anything.  And if he does have to its with Yamada on his side. 
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aleatory-eyes · 1 year
Text
Duo
Yandere erasermic x fem reader
Tw : yandere , kidnapping ,Stockholm syndrome and reader has anxiety.
I DON'T CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR. THIS IS FICTIONAL! PURE FICTION!
This is a part 1
Eyes are slowly opening at the sight of the early morning sun rays. You try to cuddle in the soft bed and quickly close your eyes but is too late ,you're already up.
There's no returning to the joyful land of dreams. what would you do to go back? to stay there and escape your current situation ? But before you start to wonder how to become the new Alice in wonderland you start to hear steady steps approaching your his bedroom door. You make out some sort of clicking noice (was the door locked?) And entering the room Aizawa appears, the one that had deprived you of freedom, your kidnapper.
You two make eye contact. However, you are to scared to look away. Luckily for you he quickly looks down, to the cuff in your left ankle to be exact. "Let's get this off, shall we?" he says with a low grumble.
You nod even though he probably won't see it. After a few seconds you heard the mechanism popping open and you're free... well as free as you could be in your situation. Slowly you say goodbye to the warm of the bed and get up following the tall man to the kitchen.
You have to admit that the apartment is beautiful, and definitely expensive, everything seems mathematically put together to give the impression of a cozy / warm home. Is quite ironic that you can only see this place as cold and cynical.
Either way, you sit on one of the kitchen chairs waiting patiently as the hero cooks what it seems to be scrambled eggs with some vegetables. Is not your favorite, it reminds you of the morning after your abduction. At that time you've tried to reason with him , asking lots of questions : why I'm here ? Why me? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! the last one wasn't as composed as the other ones but considering the circumstances you were in you think he would let it pass and in a way he did .
He calmly explained that now you were safe and taking care of, like it always should have been. That he is a hero (you almost jump out of your seat at that revelation) and that in order to protect you from any harm you have been "relocated" in your new home.
With that QaA session it was an obvious understatement that you were left speechless. Your mind racing with thoughts. You have never felt an anxiety like this, not even that time in your old job when you spilled hot coffee on your boss suit, the anxiety quickly change to full panic leaving your judgment in the hand of your flight or fight instinct.
But neither of those activated, instead you freezed not being able to get up of the damm chair while you trembled. Seems like Aizawa noticed your change of behavior opting for slowly approaching you, resting one hand in your shoulder watching what's left of your strong facade dissapears as you start sobbing. He left out a sight and started rubbing your back, with a low tone he began comforting you "look babe I know you are scared, this is all so new and unexpected. But I can guarantee you this is the right thing just ... try to relax..."
Out of desperation you ended up crying in the black headed's shoulder trying to recompose yourself as the man continues to rub your back and whisper reassuring words trying to diminish your anxiety.
You still cringe at that memory. That's why now you try your best to keep your mind occupied by not focusing in the deep hole your trapped into but rather your escape, is better for your sanity that way.
Also he appears to be happy about your early "acceptance" to the new home. However deep down you know he sees right through your mask.
Still for the time being you will... behave.
Speaking of the devil, "Breakfast is ready.Eat it." You hear while being served a beautiful plastic plate full of nutrients, accompanied by a spoon (looks like some time will pass before he trust you with other utensils).You thanked the food and started eating, not paying your kidnapper much attention.
He clears his throat and breaks the silence "my husband is coming home soon."
Suddenly your eyes are wide open but he's not done talking, "you've probably hear of him....Present Mic... I guess he is pretty famous"
Part 2
If you like it don't forget to give me a heart / reblogs are also welcome 🥰
And if you want more, check my masterlist.
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depravitycentral · 9 months
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Wait but can i please ask for a darling that can speak a language that her captor( especially Nobunaga or Uvogin) can't ? 🥹
Like she speaks Vietnamese so everytime that dude try to hugs her or random shit and she said "Cút ra coi" ( please fuck off) and he can't understand! Maybe he will be mad since her tone is carrying alot of attitudes.
Since Vietnamese have ALOT of cursed words so i think i can bullied them and get away with it sometime...
You don't have to do this if you don't want to but if you did, thank you alot. I recently go crazy with your blog, you are so talented 😭🙌. Love and support from Vietnam!
As a preface, my native language is English, I speak a passable amount of Spanish, and I'm minoring in German at my university but I'm not nearly proficient, so I'm not exactly the expert in being fluently multilingual, but I'll try my best with this one!
As with most things, different yanderes have different feelings regarding this ability of yours. By and large, they find it wonderful - you're just so smart, so capable and wonderful and hearing the way the syllables and phrases fall from your lips gets them shivering, their heart racing in their chest because god, you sound heavenly. Even if the language is harsher sounding, or isn't considered the most alluring - it's seductive to them, sensual, sexy.
But, of course, you're only supposed to use the other language(s) at certain times. On their terms. When they want to just admire you and not understand what you're saying. When you're just supposed to look pretty, to be gorgeous and wonderful and perfect.
But the rest of the time, speak what they understand, yeah?
Because really, the worst nightmare of most yanderes is to be unable to understand what you're saying - they crave your attention and interaction with you so deeply and desperately that they can't stand not having a clue of what you're saying. Every thought you have feels precious to them, like some sort of cherished, rare commodity that they absolutely can't waste.
But of course, each yandere is different, so let's discuss!
Some are genuinely ambivalent. The lucid yanderes really fall into two main categories; apathetic, and paranoid. The more apathetic, laid-back yanderes think it's good that you're speaking in a language that makes you more comfortable. They want you to feel comfortable and happy around them, after all, and if this is the way to make that happen, so be it. This is a very small price to pay to make you like them more - they can't understand what you're saying, sure, but it's good for you to be able to vent, to be able to speak all your feelings - even if they wish they could hear every single word. Besides, you look nice when you're speaking - they like to watch your lips, the different sounds making them pucker and smack and look soft and warm and delicious. A few yanderes who react in this way include Franklin Bordeau, Pakunoda, Uvogin, Hajime Iwaizumi, Gyomei Himejima, and Shouta Aizawa.
Some of them are paranoid that you're saying things about them, calling them horrible names and expressing your hatred for them. Mostly, this stems from the yandere's own lucidity and shame for how they feel for you. It's wrong to be so obsessed with you, and even further wrong to have kidnapped you and forced you to stay with them for the rest of your life - of course you're angry, and it's healthy to vent your feelings. Except, there's this sense of diminished control when you're ranting and raving in another language, because even though you sound pretty, what are you saying? You aren't using their name, sure, but you sound mad, and they're the only possible cause. Are you calling them a monster? Telling them they're hideous and disgusting and some sick freak? You're well within your rights to do so, sure, but they want to at least know what kind of insults you're throwing their way. Overthinking and anxiety get the best of them, and they start forbidding you from speaking another language - on the grounds of it being unfair or some other horrible, childish excuse. Mostly, they just don't like the idea of you harboring hateful feelings for them without even knowing about it. It's scary, and even if it sounds pretty and makes them gush over you, it's not preferable. A few yanderes that come to mind for this category are Feitan Portor, Obanai Iguro, Tobio Kageyama, Kenji Futakuchi, and Tomura Shigaraki.
Some are utterly fascinated. Watching you speak another language can captivate them for hours, and they'll be bugging you to explain everything you're saying, perched at the edge of their seat because they want to understand this piece of you. They'll want you to teach them a little bit - just a few phrases, to start, but you'll find that they've gone and done some research of their own, quickly getting a feel for the language because it's your language and they want to impress you - and will begin actively trying to use it in their everyday interactions with you. The phrases they prioritize are I love you, you are beautiful, you are mine, and come to bed with me. (And of course, depending on the language, that last one can have a whole wealth of different connotations.) It makes them feel connected to you, like there's some special thing binding you two together - particularly if it's a language that's less commonly spoken. It's like some secret you two share, and for the more possessive yanderes, it's just another claim of ownership over you - they can be involved in every part of your life, slowly seeping their presence into every little thing you do - even something as natural and personal and raw. A few yanderes who take this approach are Chrollo Lucilfer, Kurapika Kurta, Koushi Sugawara, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Hizashi Yamada, and Taishiro Toyomitsu.
By and large, most yanderes have positive feelings towards your ability to speak another language - it just makes you more special, and convinces them that you're even more worthy of their attention and attraction.
Besides, when you say their name with the accent it would be spoken in your language?
Well, it's your fault when they're throwing you onto the bed and kissing you like they'll die without you.
(Also I am sending you hugs and kisses, thanks for supporting my blog from Vietnam!! As for Nobunaga, I have mixed feelings about where to place him on this listing - I think he'd like the idea, initially, because you just look so damn cute when you're speaking your language, especially when you're cursing or frustrated. But the moment that you say something he thinks might be about him and might be even a bit negative, suddenly those endearing feelings are changing. Suddenly he's growing defensive, hostile, suspicious, demanding you tell him what you said and thus falling into the second category mentioned above. I think he's a hard yandere to categorize for most things because his delusional mindset makes him a bit unpredictable, but that would be my guess!)
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thecuriousquest · 5 months
Note
V3 + Erasermic , not sure if you do duos for these but I apologise if not.
You Don’t Need to be a Hero
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug
Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, blood, Reader injured, guns, building on fire, controlling behavior, lots of guilt, Aizawa and Yamada are boyfriends
Request: “If I don’t keep an eye on you, who knows what will happen.”
***Note: Reader’s quirk is called water bomb. You can shoot spheres of water from your hand, but the more you do so, the less energy you have and the more dehydrated you become. Water bombs can range in size from the size of your palm to the size of your head.
I DO DUOS pfff that’s what she said! YOU GOOD DUO ANON! 🖤🤘 Thanks for the request as well!
Yandere Alphabet Prompt List
Master List
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They have loved you since you set foot on the school grounds. It was a platonic type of love, merely them being the guiding light for a bright pupil such as yourself. You had this passion, this hunger, this need to save the world. You wanted to only help people. Such an admirable desire. They couldn’t help talking about the goodness of your heart every chance Shouta and Hizashi had.
However, things changed once you turned eighteen. When you graduated, well, they no longer had any control over you. They miss holding you behind in class to talk with you a little longer. They miss the private lectures, the one-on-one training.
They would go home together every night, a quiet and somber mood filling the air as Aizawa pets his cat and Mic taps his pen, trying to come up with ideas for his podcast. He couldn’t think of anything as his mind simply went straight to thoughts of you.
“I miss her,” Hizashi admits to his dark haired boyfriend one evening during dinner. “I really miss her, ya feel me?”
“I know, but she’s a hero now. As much as I hate it, we have to let her walk her own path.”
Hizashi crosses his arms. “What if she gets hurt?”
That causes Aizawa to pause his chopstick to mouth movements. He puts the utensil down, thinking about multiple things that could happen to you. So many things could go wrong while facing villains. No, he hates it just as much as Hizashi, if not more.
“I’m not talking about this,” is all he says as he finishes up his supper.
The duo flits around in silence for the rest of the evening. They’re even quiet before bed, refusing to speak to one another until Aizawa hears the soft spoken words coming from his partner.
“I just want her to be okay.”
It pulls at Aizawa’s heart to hear something like that coming from someone he loves. All Aizawa can do is wrap an arm around the voice hero and pull him in close as they fall asleep.
———
It is merely a coincidence, a stroke of luck, that the pair happens to be out patrolling at the same time as you, something that has never happened before.
You usually work day shifts. However, you somehow got switched to the graveyard slot as one of the sidekicks got really sick at the agency you’re working at.
“Aizawa Sensei? Mic Sensei? Oh my gosh!”
They turn around, only to be enveloped in your arms. You hug them so tightly that it actually causes their breaths to hitch from the squeeze.
“I missed you two so much!”
Hizashi can only stare at you with lips slightly parted. Aizawa pulls himself together much quicker than that.
“Look at you. You’ve grown up quite a bit since we last saw you.”
And grown you have. The way you look in your tight hero costume…it doesn’t leave much room for imagination to say the least.
“Oh, it’s only been a year. I haven’t grown that much, Sensei!” you can’t help but laugh, fully oblivious to his meaning.
Hizashi finally manages to pull himself together. “Hey, what do you say we patrol together?”
Your shock at his question turns into one of a happy surprise. You nod your head in agreement, going off with the duo in excitement. You’ve never teamed up with either one before, so the chance at pairing up with both of them is just icing on the cake to you.
Hizashi and Shouta (mostly Hizashi) asks you questions about how your life has been since graduation, what it is like at the agency you’re working under, and so on and so forth.
As you’re about to answer another one of Hizashi’s questions, Shouta puts a hand up, signaling for both of you to shut up. He appears to have picked up on something. You want to ask him what it is, but you know that if you even utter one syllable, it could cause bad things to happen.
A gun shot fires, a man screams, a dull thud echos across the street, and a building burns with flames.
Shouta and Hizashi immediately jump into action.
“Hizashi, watch out for Y/N!” He yells the order as he swings from a telephone pole with his scarf.
You huff in irritation at what the raven haired teacher just said as if you can’t take care of yourself. Your quirk, water bomb, is strong enough to be able to keep up with the heroes.
But you simply cannot afford to not listen. Listening is the key to teamwork. So you run behind Hizashi as he spurs forward towards the blazing building.
You don’t know what caused the fire, but you shoot spheres of water from your hands, holding them out towards the building. You make the bombs as big as you can, but you can only do so much to try to cool down the heat.
Sweat beads line your brow as you focus all of your attention on the building. You notice how your energy is beginning to rapidly decline with all of the water you’re shooting. Shouta is off somewhere in the distance fighting while Hizashi is fighting nearby, keeping one eye on the villain and the other on you.
Everything is okay. You have things under control here.
That is until a bullet hits your lower back, narrowly missing your spine, yet still causing enough damage to the point where you fall over. There’s too much body in the way for it to be a through and through. It’s stuck, lodged somewhere midway between your back and front. You press a palm to the wound, trying to prevent the bleeding as you lay on the sidewalk, propping yourself up with your elbow.
So much blood is pouring out of your lower back like a scarlet river. Your hero costume is completely ruined as you lay in a puddle of crimson. You’re chest is heaving as you watch Hizashi run towards you. A dark haze coats your eyes, and your lids feel heavy. Every time you blink feels like a new weight has been added to your head. You struggle to stay awake, to keep yourself up right.
Yamada wraps you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! No, you stay with me, little girl. You stay with me. Hey!” He slaps you to keep you awake. “Keep those eyes open. Don’t you dare drift off on me. Come on, come on!”
He pulls his phone out, calling an ambulance to get to your location stat.
The conversation goes in one ear and out the other with the woozy state you’re in. You’re too out of it to be able to tell what’s going on with the amount of blood you’ve lost.
Before the ambulance shows up, you pass out. You’re out for a while actually, a full two days to be exact. You wake up in a hospital, feeling drowsy. Looking at the multiple IVs, you guess you’re feeling kind of out of it because of pain medication.
Hizashi pulls on your wrist lightly, grabbing your attention. You look up at your old teacher with a light smile.
“Sensei…” Your throat feels dry like sandpaper, and your mouth feels as though you’ve been sucking on cotton.
Your bout of coughing causes Aizawa to gently bring a straw to your lips. You begin to sip whatever is offered to you, instantly gulping it down once you realize it’s water.
“Alright, that’s enough. Drink too fast and you’ll make yourself sick.” He takes the cup away from you, setting it down on the bedside table.
“We’re so glad you’re awake. You’ve been out for two days, kiddo. How’re ya feelin’?” Hizashi asks with genuine concern.
“I’ve been out for two days? Damn. Wait, what happened to the building? It was still on fire when I got shot.” You can’t bring yourself to yell your questions. You just don’t have the energy right now.
Aizawa sighs. “There were no civilians in the building. It ended up being saved by three other heroes. Don’t worry too much about it. We got the villains locked up. Everything’s fine.”
Hizashi moves his hand to the area right above your knee. “Kid, this happened to you because I wasn’t watching out for you like I should have. I thought I could fight and keep an eye on you at the same time, but you ended up getting hurt because of me. Sweetheart, I am so sorry that happened to you, but it will never, and I mean never, happen again. Okay? I promise.”
You’re not even sure how to respond. “Mic Sensei, it wasn’t your fault. It’s not like you shot me. I mean, this stuff comes with being a hero. I was focused on putting out the fire, you and Aizawa Sensei were busy fighting the villains. Don’t blame yourself, please? We were all doing our jobs. It just so happened that someone snuck up on me while I was distracted with fire control.”
Shouta shakes his head and grumbles slightly. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but we’re going to make damn sure that something like this never happens again. You’re lucky the ambulance got to you in time.”
Something about his words confuses you. “What do you mean? Are we going to patrol together more often now?”
“No, that’s not what we mean.” Shouta takes a deep breath before explaining, “Hizashi and I talked things over, and we’ve decided that you aren’t going to be a hero anymore.”
Bewildered doesn’t even begin to describe your current state. Eyes as wide as saucers regard your old teachers.
“You decided? You decided?!” You aren’t sure where this surge of energy has come from in your drugged up state, but you express it nonetheless. “You can’t just decide things for me, especially not something concerning my profession. I’m no longer a U.A student. I’m no longer under your care nor am I your responsibility!”
“Kiddo, I suggest you lower your tone. We’re still in a hospital, and we won’t allow you to disrespect us like this,” Mic Sensei warns you.
“What the hell is happening?! I want to go. I want to go home right now!” You struggle to sit up on the hospital bed.
Aizawa puts a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stay still. “Listen to me, Y/N, this is for your own good. We’re not going to see you hurt like that ever again. This is us making sure of that. You’re going to stay with us, and that’s the end of it.”
A stray tear, infused with rage and bitterness at the situation, finds its way trickling down your cheek.
“Why are you doing this to me?” you whisper with resentment.
“Because we love you, and we want what’s best for you,” Hizashi squeezes your knee gently.
Aizawa moves his hand to the top of your head, petting your hair softly. “If we don’t keep an eye on you, who knows what will happen.”
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demonlamb666 · 2 years
Note
How would yanderes poly Erasermic react to reader asking them if she can publish her stories online and do you think they’ll allow her to do so?
Reader wants to post their writing online
Warnings: yandere themes, poly relationship, overprotective themes, slight mentions of reader being threatened (nothing graphic), clingy behaviour, slight infantilisation.
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~Aizawa is actually much more willing to let you post your stories online than Hizashi is. They’re both very protective of you but Zashi is more worried about people being mean to you or you getting cyber bullied, you’re his sensitive little song bird and he can’t stand the thought of people being mean to you. Aizawa is slightly less infantilising with you and more confident in your mental state and abilities but he also has a darker view on the world, he’s more worried about a villain finding you through the writing.
~You can convince them, but it’s hard. The silent treatment can work on Hizashi but if Aizawa finds out it has the opposite effect because he won’t tolerate you being a brat and upsetting his husband. You’re best bet is a lot of begging, cuddles and sweet moments. Zawa and Zashi are both soft for you so as long as you can convince them it’s safe they’ll let you do it.
~Aizawa is more likely to give you some privacy when it comes to your writing and will just ask you questions at dinner about how it’s going and if you’re having fun. But he does expect you to come to him if anyone makes you uncomfortable or threatens you. If Hizashi asks him to he might go on all your device and put some child settings on. Zashi on the other hand is constantly asking questions and trying to peek over your shoulder to see what you’re writing. He’s very clingy and lovey dovey so you should make sure you make time for him or they might put a time limit on your devices.
~If they get even a hint of you acting differently or you seem upset Aizawa and Hizashi will both agree they should check out your writing, just to make sure you’re ok. And if they find out someone’s bullying you or threatening you they will immediately use their resources as pro hero’s track them down and make sure they never bother you again. After this they will sit you down at the dining table like you’re a child and Aizawa will tell you that you’re not aloud to post your writing online anymore while Zashi tries to comfort you and explain that it’s for the best. They hate seeing you upset and your tears feel like someone’s stabbed them in the heart but Aizawa will remind his husband that it’s for your safety, besides now you can spend more time with them, which pretty much convinces Hizashi and hardens his resolve. Neither of them want you to stop writing because they know you enjoy it but if it means keeping you safe then they’ll deal with your tantrums and frustration. You’re their songbird, their kitten and they’re your husbands, so they’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
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lolita-lollipop · 4 months
Text
Crickets
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SOFT YANDERE PLATONIC ERASERMIC FAMILY X READER
(mostly Shinso)
WARNINGS: suicidal threats from the reader, not detailed but mentioned depression and dissociation, the reader is not okay, unwanted comfort. yandere(and all the things that come with it)
it's cold outside today.
As you dragged yourself through the front yard, scratches already lining your knees,you wished that you grabbed a jacket, or decided to do this during the summer season. The sedative they had given you hours ago was in full effect, putting weight on your shoulders and making your vision blur, putting you off balance again and again as you sprinted through the front door out into the garden. Everything just hurt, your head, your heart, your hands. You were just so finished with this bullshit, so done with fooling yourself into thinking you’d be okay.
Harsh sobs left your lips as you fumbled with the door trying to get any further, ever since they’d taken you it was made very clear that if you tried to escape, they would confine you to their side 24/7, but as times flew by and your desperation slowly pooled in the bottom of your soul, you stopped caring. You hated that these people treated you like a child, you hated how they belittled you, you hated the way you never had a say in anything, and especially you hated how you could never do anything about it.
Today was your breaking point.
They were doing what they usually did, pushing and pulling and shoving you around as if you were nothing but a baby, you already had very little sleep last night after your crying fit, so you weren’t very keen on being nice to them this morning.It was simple really, all you had asked for was some Tylenol for your headache, crying takes it out of you, they know that best. but they said no.
So out the door you ran, screaming and crying the whole way there. You knew that eri and shinso were here too, you knew that escape was practically impossible, and that your attempts would be worth nothing. But you needed this. You really did.
You regret it now. Now that you’re lying down on the grass in the front yard, your hands and knees covered in scrapes. Your head fuzzy and throbbing. It was quite the surprise that they hadn’t come out to get you yet, your sobs never halted though. It was a sad sight, just a puddle of a young girl crying herself into a migraine. It into got worse when you heard footsteps, and saw that familiar purple hair you could recognize as shinsos.
He said nothing, but he had a scary look on his face. He just grabbed your arm and tugged you up into his arms harshly. This of course did nothing for your intense panic.
“Please. Please don’t make me go back- please I can’t go back in there- shinso I love you- please I love you” you stammered out through sobs, punching at his test with all the force you could muster, as a hero in training it did nothing physically to him, but you could see the resolve behind his eyes falter.
“Should’ve thought about that before you ran. I made them calm down. You’re lucky it’s me instead of Aizawa out here” he spoke as he always did, coldly and lacking emotion. Only holding you tighter and beginning to walk back to the house. You dug your bare feet into the dirt, pulling back at him. it was pathetic, you knew. the lengths you were willing to go in the name of escape.
“Please. I can’t do this anymore- shinso I’m so tired. They make me so tired I can’t even think straight anymore. I just can’t take it anymore” you were begging in desperation at this point, squirming and scratching at him, anything to get him off, to let you go.
“They’re giving you the life you wanted. A life you would’ve killed to have” The chirp of the crickets in the garden overtook the conversation, and a long silence overtook the two of you. you could hear and see everything, the water flushing through the fountain,the buzz of the bees, the chirp of the crickets, it was too much, everything was hazy and blended together and you were left overwhelmed and terrified.
It's cold outside today , maybe that's the reason you keep shivering, maybe it's fear-actually, terror is a better word for it.
“I wanted that life willingly! I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be taken from my home in the middle of the night. Even if I hate my parents, I can’t stand that I have no power! Please, you have to understand, I’m rotting away here, I have no purpose at all- please shinso-“he paused in his trek towards the door, taking a deep, calculated breath.
“Tell that to them.”
“shinso please- please I love you. I can’t go back there, please don’t make me, I can’t, if I go back they’ll hurt me, they’ll be upset shin, I don’t wanna get hurt again” you begged as he began to walk again, your heels were begging to bleed out of the cuts the harsh ground was making. Tears flowed freely down your face now, and you flailed and kicked and cried, he was stronger than you, the both of you knew that. You could see a little sympathy in the back of his eyes though, maybe he wasn’t dead internally. not yet.
“You know that isn’t true, they would never. Now hush. You’ll be fine, I love you too.” Planting a kiss on your forehead, he hoisted you up, brushing your hair out of your face and beginning to rub circles that usually would be soothing on your neck. A long pause rung out, a deafening silence overtook the two of you as you fully came to the realization that he wasn’t going to help you, and your attention was drawing to the crunch of hit boots on the rocky mud.
.
.
.
“I’ll kill myself.” He paused, and his head shot down towards you faster than you could even see. Your resolve had completely shattered by now, any words you said were mumbly and overridden by your tears and your heavy breathing. You were broken completely, utterly done with the world for putting you in this situation, you had been shattered into a million pieces, and shinso could see it. He could see how desperate you were. Something flashed in his eyes.
“Sweetheart…”
“I will, I would rather die. I can’t go back in there, if you make me I’ll jump off a roof, or I’ll fall down the stairs, or I’ll hang myself. I just- I won’t go back- not alive” you rushed out in between sobs, you had stopped fighting, instead opting for intense teary-eyed eye contact to make your point heard. Your hands now gripped the collar of his shirt, quivering. your heart was trembling, and so was your body, it would only be minutes till you would feint. This is it.
“Don’t say that- you don’t have to hurt yourself for freedom, just ask them and they’ll give you whatever you want, anything. They love you-“ he begun, stroking your hair as he held you. Your hands continued to shake as his eyes met your gaze. You wouldn’t go back, you couldn’t, shinso saw what it was doing to you. He saw the way you shrank from loud noises now and winced when getting up from the couch, how your eyes would sometimes go glassy as if you were in a different place entirely. He wouldn’t do this to you, he loves you too much right?
Right?
“I DONT WANT THE FREEDOM THEYLL GIVE ME, I WANT TO LEAVE. I WANT TO LIVE MY OWN LIFE. I’ll do it, you think I won’t but I will. Please- even if you don’t take me away from here- just let me run, say- say you couldn’t catch me. Just give me enough time to get in a taxi, you don’t even have to help me. Please shinso, I’m begging you” your silent years now turned into gut wrenching, stomach aching sobs. He was going to let you rot in that house, with your stupid dolls and toys and cats that you were far too old for. There… there’s no hope for you… I’d he doesn’t help- if he doesn’t help than you’re stuck for all eternity till you are nothing but a skeleton.
“You know I can’t do that” at his words your hands begun to dig in his neck, your cries hurt your stomach, that endless pit of despair slowly settling at the bottom. this is it. this is the end of your life.
“I would rather go live in hell than have to live here ever again. I- I just can’t do this anymore, they hurt me just so they can feel good helping me, everything I do makes me so tired, so weak. I can’t pick things up on my own, sometimes my knees are so weak I can’t even walk. I need them. Fuck I need them Shinso. Do you know how humiliating that is, how infuriating that is? They've ruined me, I’m not a whole person anymore. Please… please just- just let me have this” You could barely breathe at this point, your lungs filling up with that depressing feeling. As you spoke your sobs got worse and worse, till you were almost incomprehensible. You can’t do this anymore. You just can’t. Too locked up in your internal monologue you missed out on the shift in shinsos eyes, how his sympathy increased with every word you spoke.
“Oh baby… I-“ tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, and a deepset frown splayed across his face. He loves you, god he loves you so much. But… maybe you would be better off away, you aren’t happy here, you cry day and night till your stomach aches, you don’t eat, or sleep. You’re a shell. A shell of the girl he loves, is it so bad to want you back?? He can’t keep you like this, unhappy, in pain.
Much to your surprise, he slowly placed you on the ground, staring right into your souls with those eyes of his, letting a “shhh” come from his mouth, he pointed towards the road. Your eyes widened as you looked up at your big brother, immediately you threw yourself on him and squeezed as tight as you could in a hug, still crying all the way through. You didn’t know you could love somebody this much.
“I love you” he spoke, and immediately you pushed off your bare feet in a dash for the road, willing to run all the way back to town if need be. You didn’t even notice the blood seeping out from your feet due to the excess adrenaline running through your system, you were simply ecstatic. You made it a couple yards, not even sparing your brother a glance, you were free! YOU WERE FREE! You ran as fast as you could….
Only to be yanked back harshly. You let out a sob as arms engulfed you, swallowing you up whole, along with your dignity and will to live.
“That’s enough shinso. Oh don’t cry sweet girl, we’ll make you better don’t worry. If I had known you felt so- so awful I would’ve helped sooner” you recognized one of your captors, mic, by not only his voice, but also his smell, and how hard his arms were gripping you. You could feel the muscles he had squeezing you, holding you ever so close to him, and warming you up. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Immediate panic set into your bones, he’s gonna be so mad at you for running , and he’s gonna be livid that you threatened yourself. You can feel the punishments coming. you shivered in his arms, panic and terror washing over you, clouding any sense of judgment you had managed to keep.
"Please- Please don't make me go back- ill die pleas-" you sobbed, scratching at him with your short nails, digging your feet further in the dirt, you found yourself wincing as mud made its way into the cuts in your feet. It only made you cry more and more. you were halted in your begging though, all the air in your lungs being knocked straight out of your chest.
Mic hoisted you up much like Shinso had previously done, however his grip was iron l, impossible to budge and honestly, painful. He squeezed you and cooed into your ear in attempts to calm your nerves. Nothing was working however, you were too fragile, too easy to break. and you were broken all right, with the way you were sobbing into his chest, that was for sure. You just need time, comfort, safety, security. they would give you all of that and more, but you had to stay with them, you just had to.
It's cold outside, but god you would rather be frozen alive than brought back into that house. this is it for you. you're over. It's done.
“Don’t worry baby, we’ll make it all better soon.
I promise” ---------------------------------------------------- its been a while huh. I FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO A "Keep reading" CUT! YAY! I havent written something platonic in months but I feel like it was warranted so enjoy, this is pretty self indulgent so I hope it works for yall too. have fun. I hope everybody reading this has a lovely day, and remembers that they are loved somewhere by someone. Have a great day! see you next time!
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lovinkiri · 2 years
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Requests open?! Shiyeet! I got sumn for you 👁👁
I loved the Yandere!addicted to pussy hc’s you did, Can you do more pussywhipped guys with Dabi, Mirio, and Aizawa?
Addicted To The Kitty
Author's Thoughts: I melted as soon as I saw Dabi 😩
Warning: Yandere themes, Cussing, Smut, etc.
Touya Todoroki (Dabi)
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Dabi felt stuff for you
He definitely had romantic feelings
But he never let himself act on them
Or so he said 😏
When you guys started kissing, he told himself it was just a hook up
Nothing special, just two buddies experimenting
He felt the possession creeping up when you looked back at him on all fours
You looked so desperate, so wrecked for him
He tries to shove the feeling away
He's not gonna get possessive because he doesn't want you
He just wants what you're offering right now
And he barely wastes time taking it
But when you clenching around him, your warm walls practically trying to pull him back in
When you whine at his slow pace, shaking your ass a bit frustratingly
When you move your hips back against his as he speeds up
It just does something to him
Because watching you and hearing you is one thing
But now he's feeling you
And he doesn't want anyone else to feel you either
He doesn't want them to watch you or hear you
No, he want to be selfish and keep you for himself
And he's very vocal about it
"Fuck, Doll, tell me who you belong to. C'mon, say it. That's right, just me. Just. Fucking. Me."
In his opinion, you wouldn't be fucking yourself on his cock if you didn't feel the same way
Buy honestly, how you feel really doesn't matter, not anymore hun
After all, you belong to him now, don't you?
Mirio Togata
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Mans had a huge crush on you, but wasn't sure how you felt
And he's already possessive toi
It's not like he was being subtle either
He'd comment on how pretty your lips looked
Tell you everyday about how much he just wants to keep you a to himself
Constantly has a hand on you (if you allow it)
If his hands aren't on you, his eyes always are
And it was his trailing eyes that eventually ended up with the two of you kissing in your college dorm room
Mirio doesn't waste much time climbing over you
And you're just so absolutely gorgeous, he starts praising you
"So beautiful baby.. Gonna keep you all to myself. You'd like that, yeah?"
You assume it's just dirty talk so of course you're nodding and going "Mhm"
He takes his time with foreplay
It's probably when he's tasting you that he really loses it
"Fuck, you taste so Sunshine.."
The man could eat you out for hours and he would if you weren't squirming so much
But he can't blame you, you'd cum on his tongue at least three times now
So as a reward for being so good, he gives you what you want
The stretch makes you moan out and he holds you as you arch against you
His hands slide to your hips and he starts off as gentle
But eventually he'd lifting you up and down on his cock like a toy
And you're leaning against him, letting broken moans fall from your lips
But you make no attempt to push him away and that only enables him
And after he's painted your walls white, he doesn't wanna let you go
You have a class? Not anymore
Do you even need classes?
He could take care of you
You never have to leave his side
And with the grip your pussy has on him, he doesn't want you to
Why should he share you with your professors?
What if someone else stares at you?
He just wants to protect you, make you happy tho
So he'd eventually let you leave
But if bodies start dropping across campus, don't blame him for your decision 🤷🏿‍♀️
Shouta Aizawa
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Okay okay
So like
Picture this, right?
You're both teachers at UA and you both have been secretly pining over each other for so long
You both judge each other on your teaching abilities like
"You're too hard on those kids, Shouta."
"You're too soft, Y/n."
Nezu always said you two argued like a married couple but the two of you denied his claims in embarrassment
Untiiiiiil 👀
The two of you were assigned a "project" from Nezu
The two of your classes were going on the same trip and it was up to you two to plan out the entire trip
One second you were planning
Next you were arguing
Then you were sprawled out across the desk with Shouta rubbing his leaking top against your clit
Oh how things escalate
Ah well, you got each other now
At least that's what he's thinking
He'd lean down to kiss your lips
It was gentle, but assertive and it left you leaning up for more when he pulled away
He'd chuckle at your desperation, like the sadist he is
But it's okay because he'd give you exactly what you want
Stretching you out, biting back a moan of his own as he does
He's ordering you to say his name, grabbing you from under his knees
And it's just so good he couldn't stop if he tried
You've got the man so pussy drunk that hes not even trying to be discreet
You'd try if you could but I mean who could be quiet with the way he's slamming into you?
If your noises didn't give you away, the sound of skin slapping against skin would
And as he was in this haze, he found himself thinking
"Cunt's so good, gotta keep it to myself"
He remembers all the coworkers who've flirted with you
Treated you like an object
And he feels himself getting upset
Immediately turns into angry sex
But you aren't complaining 🤷🏿‍♀️
He's not gonna let anyone take you from him
They won't even get the chance to try
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