Yandere Midoriya - Blog Posts

Longing

Main Masterlist

BNHA Masterlist

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader.

Warnings: Somewhat suggestive themes.

Summary: After keeping your feelings quiet for so long for the sake of others, a breaking point is finally found.

W/C: 2.1k+

“The thing is, recently, my heart’s been all stirred up about something.” You hear an all too familiar voice say as you exit the kitchen with your bottle of water in hand. “It’s love!” Another of your classmates yells, having you stopping in your tracks with your eyes setting on the sight taking place in the living room of the dorms. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?! GLOVE?! SHOVE?! DOVE?! I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE, WHAT’S THAT?!” Uraraka shouts while waving her hands frantically.

“Who is it? Midoriya or Iida? You’re always hanging out with those two boys.” Mina continues to press all while you clench your teeth. “You’ve got it all wrong!” Uraraka denies while covering her face with her hands, resulting in her accidentally activating her quirk on herself and floating to the ceiling with what little of her cheeks she’s unable to cover being overly red, the sight having you knitting your brows in frustration.

This isn’t the first time her crush on Izuku was called out, nor is it the first time that you’re forced to swallow your words, having them burning at your throat like bile threatening to rise. You can’t even recall the last time you actually felt comfortable in your group of so called friends, having been put through too many conversations encouraging Uraraka with her crush on the sunshine classmate yet none to you.

They’ve all been too busy lending their support to her crush that she’s not even willing to admit yet is still willing to get possessive and jealous over, too busy to notice you looking at him similarly, too busy to notice that you were the first one to actually like him and get close to him. But it doesn’t matter that you’ve liked him for longer, because they’ve only known of Uraraka’s crush on Izuku, so if you were to say anything of your own crush of him…

So instead, you’re stuck unable to act on your feelings for him as to not have your ‘friends’ glare daggers at you, and have to leave it to someone who doesn’t even have the guts to admit her crush to her friends, let alone to the one she likes. You grip the bottle in your shaky hand and walk to the entrance of the dorms, wanting to leave the building for some fresh air instead. After shutting the door behind you, your ears fill with the sound of crickets instead, soon followed by a long sigh slowly leaving your mouth.

You move to sit at the steps that lead to the entrance while you unscrew the cap of the bottle, bringing it to your parted lips just as you’re about to sit only to once again stop in your tracks. “That’s not it, Iida looked different; bent his back I think. He’s so flexible, I can see his shape in my head…” Your eyes trail to Izuku on his knees bent over some of his notes and take notice of the thin layer of sweat coating him, no doubt having been practicing his moves.

“Hey.” You call out to him with your arm stretched towards him, offering him your water. His face immediately brightens from the neutral expression as soon as he sees you and stands on his feet to rush over to you and take the bottle. “Thank you so much.” He smiles at you with rosy cheeks, probably from the workout, and then downing almost the entire bottle, unknowingly giving you a show in a perfect side angle of his adam’s apple smoothly bobbing up and down.

Izuku finally brings the bottle back down and takes in a deep breath followed by a small awkward chuckle at how you just witnessed him almost choking by depriving himself of air in favor of water. “Sorry about that.” He apologizes with his blush deepening a few shades. “It’s okay, don’t-” You clear your throat. “Don’t worry about it.” You assure, averting your eyes to try and compose yourself after the front row seat of the show he just gave you.

“Oh, are you thirsty? There’s still some left.” He offers you back the bottle with innocent eyes, the blush on his cheeks fading away. “No- it’s okay, I just… thought you were thirsty, so I gave you the water.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It was… yours?” He asks. “Yea- don’t think about it too hard, I can just go get another one.” You try to assure him with a smile, starting to turn around. “No!” He blurts out, startling you.

“I mean, this was your bottle first and there’s still some left.” He looks away almost shyly while offering you back the bottle with about a quarter of water left as his cheeks start to feel warm again. You stare at the bottle briefly and look back at Izuku and take in his nervous form, seeing how he averts his eyes with pink cheeks, fiddles with his shirt with his empty hand and ever so slightly traces his shoe along the ground and suddenly, something buried deep beneath you finally takes hold.

You grab the bottle with confidence, something that has Izuku looking at you again, and bring it to your lips, tilting your head back with the same side angle he gave you and stare him down for a few seconds as you drink the water before closing your eyes and drinking the last of the water, taking in the taste of the last thing he ate, the piece of mint chocolate he had after dinner; the same mint he’s been having every day for the past few days now leaving a fresh taste on your tongue.

Finally, you bring the bottle back down and forward it to him with your face in a neutral expression aside from the way one of your brows is lightly raised with the corner of your lips ever so slightly turned upwards as if daring him to take it back. Izuku looks at you with his eyes faintly widened, a look in the emerald irises that you can’t quite recognize. “Do you…” He pauses in a low voice that contrasts his usually higher-pitched and softer voice.

“Want to… drink more water?” He suggests, his voice remaining low in an alluring tone, his half-lidded eyes staring deeply into yours, and if it weren’t for how warm you felt inside, you’d find his supposed double-meaning line funny rather than arousing. “Yeah…” The word leaves you in a breathy manner. “Wait, you have some…” His hand slowly reaches forward and holds the side of your face, his thumb touching the corner of your lips and smearing a drop of water along your skin before wiping it off.

He leaves his hand on your cheek and then slowly brings his other one to your other cheek, holding your face gently in his rough hands without breaking his gaze from you. “Don’t move.” He whispers, his face closing in on yours. You stare back at his eyes which seem darker than usual and let him lean in closer until his nose touches yours, your eyes barely open, and until he pulls you in with his hands to press his lips deeply into yours.

You breathe out a startled gasp at what you thought would be a soft gentle kiss instead being a deep one filled with an underlying passion heavier than you initially thought. While Izuku’s eyes easily fall shut into the kiss, yours get blown wide open at the unexpected roughness of the kiss, one of your hands reaching to the front of his shoulder to push lightly away only for one of his hands to immediately leave your face and grip at your wrist firmly, keeping you from pushing him away.

As if understanding the reason behind your startled reaction, he slows down the kiss but remains on the same level of passion as he continues to press his lips as deeply into yours, only slowing his movements enough for you to keep up. The slower pace helps lull you to a sense of comfort and eases you enough to have your eyes fluttering shut and start to move your lips along his, your softer movements contrasting his rougher ones, his own seeming almost desperate.

The hand holding at your wrist loosens its grip and slowly drags yours up to his face with you starting to catch up to his pace, your other hand rushing to wrap your arm around the expanse of his shoulders and pull him deeper in the kiss with your hand on the side of his jaw. Instinctively, his own hands waste no time rearranging themselves with one setting at the back of your head and his other arm wrapping around you, forearm pressed along the length of your back with his hand pressed against your upper back.

While he pulls your entire body into his, he fails to fight the urge to grip the back of your shirt in his rough hand, desperately wanting to feel the skin hiding beneath the cloth. As your lips continue to mesh together, you return the same desperate feeling by gripping at the back of his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles under the shirt urging you to further explore him.

You give in to the temptation and let your hand travel back along his shoulders, the back of his neck, and then over his front as you kiss, at this point both of you are breathing heavily into the kiss against each other, not wanting to break apart even to steady your breaths. With your hand pressed on his chest, feeling the muscle hiding under his shirt, the warmth in his chest reaches a scalding temperature that spreads throughout his body until it grows too scorching to handle.

The hand on your back leaves to your arm that keeps your hand pressed on his chest, pleased to feel your body remaining close to his of its own free will. You feel his hand give your arm a small squeeze before releasing it and following its length with his fingers just barely brushing along your skin, the feather-light grazing giving you goosebumps until his hand reaches your wrist once again, taking hold of it much more gently than last time in a silent cue to signal your departure.

Izuku finally breaks the kiss with a moan and pulls back, only enough to still have his lips skimming against yours as you rest your foreheads against each other. Your eyes open to gaze into one another briefly before closing again, instead focusing on catching your breaths, feeling your hot breaths colliding in small pants with his thumb tracing small patterns along the underside of your wrist, tenderly pressing over your fast pulse and giving a reassuring squeeze as if to help gently bring you back down from the kiss.

Your eyes part open to find his own already staring at you with half-lidded eyes and seeing someone other than the shy skittish boy you’d grown used to seeing, instead, seeing a confident young man staring back at you. “Where did you learn how to kiss like that?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper to which he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “You know me… I just study a lot.” He smiles, the dark look in his eyes having faded away to a more tender one.

You smile at him in amusement with an airy chuckle of your own leaving you, not knowing if to assume him having read up on how to kiss or having seen others do so. “I haven’t kissed anyone else, if that’s what you're wondering…” He says in a somewhat hopeful manner, unbeknownst to you how he hoped you having wanted to be his first kiss, and how he hopes to have been your first as well. “I…” You speak while pulling away enough to look at him properly, the smile on your face suddenly fading away.

Izuku’s smile falters after yours, taking in your line of sight set on something off to the side behind him and turning around to follow it, his eyes falling on the group of girls staring through the window with horror in their eyes as if offended at what just took place. His gaze shifts over to Mina holding a teary Uraraka and the way he feels you rip away from his hands pulls him back to reality.

Turning back around to you, he barely has time to register you running away from him. “No! Wait!” He shouts for you, voice back in his higher pitched tone and arms instinctively reaching out for you, seeing you disappear in the trees that surround the dorms, his body freezing in place with his arms staying open for you. “Please.” He utters, his vision starting to water with his hand trembling.

“Don’t leave me.”

Debt.

Main Masterlist

BNHA Masterlist

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader.

Warnings: Creepy stuff, implied non-con, implied somnophilia.

Summary: Reader is going through a tough financial time, Deku has no problem helping.

WC: 900+

You continue to stare at the multiple papers in front of your seated form with tears in your eyes. What were you going to do? Understandably, you’ve had a pounding headache from the start, from the beginning of all this mess. Your wallet was stolen. Your ID, credit and debit cards as well as other valuable items and information… gone. The day had already been bad enough and it only turned worst when you found out about the disappearance of your wallet.

All of your savings were gone, your credit cards were maxed and in the worst moment possible, right around the time where you had bills to pay. You still remember the clenching of your heart when you received a notification on your phone letting you know about the transfer from your debit cards and the use of your credit ones, and no matter how quickly you called your banker about it for them to immediately block your account, it was no use, the damage had already been done.

Time passed by slowly without the culprit being caught as you drowned in taxes, overdue notices and even threats to your land; taking your house from you as things got worst. It’s not even that you don’t have a job with a proper income, you just don’t have the time to gather the money for everything, even if you could pay a bill off, you’d just be stuck under other bills, and to make matters worst, the mental toll was affecting your performance at work and your boss was noticing.

You let out a tired breath and look over at the last mail envelope that with no doubt contains another notice, bill or something regarding your financial problems. You pick it up and see that it’s blank, no company or anything at all on the envelope, not even the address to where it was meant to be sent; which means it was hand-delivered by the owner to your own house.

You open the envelope and pull out a hand-written letter in fancy paper judging by how thick it feels. Your eyes finally fall upon the neat letter and start reading all while thinking how a letter this elegant being delivered to you must’ve been a mistake.

Dear Y/N, I apologize for having been gone for so long, I missed you during my absence, not a single second was passed without you in my mind. I missed your smile, your smell, the taste of your skin, the feel of your body against mine, every second away from you made me ache. I wonder if you felt the same while I was gone, if you longed for me as badly as I did, if you craved my touch as my loins craved yours, if you yearned for our bodies to be one once again as I did.

It pains me to come back home only to see you in these stressful situations, but please understand; I would’ve never left you if I didn’t have to, I’ll make sure to continue with my work close by. I’ll visit you again as soon as time permits, in the meantime; I’ve paid off all your debts and will make the person who put you through this pay. While you wait for me; take this, use it as often as you like, you deserve it, just don’t forget to get something special to wear for my visit.

Till then, I eagerly await to be with you again, my Darling.

You stare at the credit and debit card on the bottom of the letter with eyes wide in shock without knowing what to feel. Surely this must be a mistake, it must have meant to be sent to someone else… with the same name and problems as you. You grab the debit card and unstuck it from the paper and see an account name with your own and password on the paper with your exact signature on the card.

You feel bile start to rise up in your throat but manage to control yourself as your phone vibrates. Is it them? The person from the letter? What did they want to say now? You grab your phone with a shaky hand and turn it over to see notification after notification pop up, all from your banks and water and electricity company you owe, or owed to, given that the notifications inform you of the debts being fully paid off.

You sit still for a few minutes with your mind blank, slowly inching its way into urging you to log into the bank of the card in your hand. The temptation grows to be too much, having you slowly finding the bank through your phone and logging in to see the account with your exact details, full name, phone number, etc, but even more astounding; an unbelievably large amount of money. You slowly look over at the other card and pick it up, turning it around with your eyes widening at the name on it.

Izuku Midoriya

The number one pro hero signed the card.

Your phone vibrates once again, pulling your attention back to it to see another notification. Don’t be shy, it’s impossible for you to make a dent in my account, now go out there and treat yourself. Till Sunday, I hope you’re ready and as eager as I am to be with you awake for the first time, I can’t wait.

Ok, hear me out. Imagine the yandere bnha thinking that their darlings made something wrong/disobey them and when they deny it the boys get really angry and just aply a harsh punishment. So when they find out that she, in fact, didn't do anything wrong and that she wasn't lying, what would they do? I don't know if this is confusing but it's on my mind now. Could you write this for Bakugou, Izuku and Keigo pls??? ❤️

yandere ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, abuse, anxiety, guilt, manipulation, slight mutilation, profanity, Stockholm syndrome

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

“Where’s the knife, Quirkless.” She would have flinched at the nickname if she hadn't gotten so used to it already, and though he had discarded of the title lately it still felt like a second skin to the girl.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't on edge, if he hadn't been looking for a flaw in the perfect evening. “Knife?” She turned to look at him, fiddling with the bow on her neck, the one fasting her apron.

“That was why you were so fucking persistent on helping me in the kitchen... wasn't it?” He looked hurt as he accused, voice only barely holding together, eyes a burning searing cold. “Just so you could take a fucking knife?” 

She wasn't understanding anything, and he’d know that if he’d believed the crinkle of confusion between her brows. 

“I thought we were making progress.” He sighed, cleary disappointed, seemingly contemplating what to do next, how he could and should deal with the situation before he lost ahold of his temper.

“As flattering as it is you thinking I’d have the nerve, skill and imagination to steal a knife from you-” She started, a halfhearted laugh breathed within her words, nearly amounting to a giggle. “I didn't take anything, you must have counted them wrong.” 

“Don't fuck with me!” His attitude-twist had her jump, expression falling then rising as her eyes grew wide, lips shut, suddenly feeling frozen, as though any movement could only be answered by the great ash-blonde’s counterattack. “Just hand it over and I won't have to hurt you too bad.”

She took a step back, hands rising as an instinctive makeshift shield, or to balance herself with the rush of blood suddenly pumping in her system. “Katsuki, I’m telling the truth.” She swallowed, trying to level the growing feral energy she felt surge and ooze from the fueling fire in front of her. “I didn't take it.”

“Bullshit, there’s a knife missing and I didn't take it, no one else sure as fuck did, so that leaves you.” His eyes scrutinized, narrowing in her direction. “You and your silver tongue who somehow managed to trick me into thinking letting you anywhere near the fucking kitchen was a good idea, I should have just left you tied to the bed.” His voice dripped with venom, contained potent danger, ready to kill, ready to sink his teeth in. “Now, I’m gonna count to three, if you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna give me the fucking knife. One...”

“But, I didn't...” She tried, but he wouldn't have her excuses.

“Two...” She stood there, unsure if whether she should run, though not able to answer quick enough. “Three.”

“Katsuki, I swear I didn't take anything.” Tears slipped down her face now as she watched his muscles flex with the white-hot wrath surging through his veins. Her knees grew weak and she knew she wouldn't be able to run anywhere, nor was there any place to run to if she could. 

“Fucking liar...” He turned away, heading back into the kitchen. “Tears won't save you from this one.” 

She heard the crash of his hands fiddling in the cutlery drawer, thinking he might have given the superiority of his math skills a second thought, but saw him return too quickly for that to be the case, eyes too blurry to see what he was holding in his hand, yet having an educated guess what it might be. 

“Since you like playing with knives so fucking much, why don't we play a game...” He yanked her wrists forward, sent her staggering into him, crushing the dainty joint in his palm, where if it wasn't for the ear-piercing wail that cut-loose into the air, they could have heard the small cracks indicating a fracture, though Bakugo didn't need to hear it where he felt it pop with satisfactory ease inside his fist, only to push her down on the stone floors, hand flattening out her arm. “Each time you refuse to tell me where you hid your idiotic little escape-plan, your senseless downright insulting form of neutralizing me...” His face a mere inch away from hers as he snarled, spit flying, knife placed at her neck. “I’m gonna carve a reminder of how fucking useless you are into your skin so you never get any of these dumb fucking ideas ever again.”

Her high-pitched screams rung like cacophony through his house, bouncing off the marble walls, filling every room with noise so deafening he was beginning to tire, head hurting at the earth-shattering wails. 

“Where is it, Quirkless?” He growled for the dozenth time, knife dripping with her blood as he just finished etching the last ‘s’ into the flesh of her arm, the fully spelled cruel nickname oozing with a stark vermillion just as rich as his bloodshot eyes staring down at her.

“I- I don't know.” She sniffed, chest heaving as she laid limply, pinned beneath him, cheeks stained and streaked with tears, bloated, nose red and eyes unfocused, looking about ready to pass out. “Please...”

He huffed through his nose, twitching with unstifled rage, growing more and more frayed. “Fine, suit yourself, next will be my fucking name.” He seethed, drawing another defeated sob from out of her hiccuping ribcage. “Wonder where I should write it... the other arm, your chest, your ass?” His stained bloodied fingers grabbed her chin, tried forcing eye contact only to find blank blown pupils falling to nothing, glossed over and delirious, feverish with dew-drops prickled on her forehead and breasts. “Shit... you’re even weaker than I thought...”

He got up, left her to lay there with labored breaths, making a quick journey to find some bandages, thinking he’d be merciful enough to secure her wounds before starting a new one. Feet slapping against stone, stomping through the halls to the bathroom, pulling open the cupboards only to come to an abrupt holt. 

Ice through his veins at the sight of the knife in the drawer. 

The knife he’d put there to cut bandage cloths each time he would brand her with burns whence his temper got out of bounds.

“Fuck...” He breathed, eyes stinging, body so unbelievable stiff as his ears burned upon hearing the soft snivels coming from the living room.

He walked out, bandage-roll in hand, knees feeling wobbly, too weak to support his weight, and the newly settled burden on his shoulders. He rounded the corner, the bloody word carved into her once soft skin the first thing his eyes fell upon, heart clenching furiously in his chest, something clawing at his throat from the inside. 

“I didn't- I- please- I didn't- I-” She simply lied there, all limp, on the cold stone tiles, blood staining her dress, apron ripped off and thrown next to her, sobbing with such little power they were reduced to mere sniffles, her weak limbs not even trying to make her stand up, too exhausted to even support her breathing as her chest rose with labor on each meager intake and seemed to crumble on every slipping exhale.

“Fuck- I know- I- I fucked up.” He kneeled down next to her, mind reeling, spinning, trying to wrap around the volume of what he’d just done, trying to find any means of salvaging what perfection they’d started the day off with when he’d made her breakfast and she’d hugged him, kissing him all softly and giggling as he lifted her up to sit on the counter. Finding there was no other option but to pick up the broken pieces scattered around him, and hope, hope with all his heart that he could fix things.

“No, please Katsuki, I didn't take anything, please-” She cried once seeing he’d come back, body trying to curl away when his hands descended to touch her, his large hands unsure of what to do, what he could, what he should, what he had to. Ashamed and guilt-stricken, rusty daggers stabbing at his insides, twisting in his gut as he picked her heavy arm up from the ground, laying it on his lap to wrap the white strip of bandage around it.

He bit his lip and tasted the metal on his tongue, tears starting to fall as he withheld screaming, his heart being ripped from his chest, quite like how he wanted to rip his hair out, pull his tongue out, claw his eyes out, tear the skin and flesh of his bones. “I’m sorry.” 

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

He’d been going through the regular routine, coming to the bitter conclusion that not everything was up to code. Walking out into the kitchen where his darling had been standing for about an hour cooking dinner, humming a lullaby as she suspiciously went on stirring the pot without a hint of scorn or resistance. 

Her compliant nature all made sense now.

“So, chicken soup?” He quipped, though she didn't pick up on the bitterness.

She just threw her head back to look at him over her shoulder, soft smile on her face. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite!” It was so heartfelt he almost believed it.

“Clever.” Her brows furrowed upon the strange darkness in his tone, but shrugged it off, excused it on him being tired after a long day.

She poured the soup into two bowls, picked them up to set them on the table where she’d laid out a nice table-cloth and a small vase of flowers, all swift and graceful. “You say it all the time, I’d have to be deaf to miss it.” He waddled over to take his seat, eyes fixed on her and her antiques all the way, trying to spot an inch of regret in her composure, but finding she sprung around him and fiddled and fussed like the perfect housewife he’d groomed her to be, lying to his face with the bright smile on her lips. “Well, go on. It’s my first time with this recipe.”

“Special recipe, is it?” He asked, sitting down and picking up his spoon, twirling it in his hand, eyes still set on her, an eyebrow slightly cocked.

She looked to him then, head tilting to the side, growing more and more confused by his strange attitude. “No... quite simple actually.” She decided to brush it off, thinking he might perk up after he got some food. “Well?” She nodded eagerly towards his bowl.

“You first.” He smiled, though his eyes still looking strangely... dead.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled, picking up her spoon, scooping to put in her mouth, then swallowing.

“So it’s only in my bowl then.” He sighed.

“What-” 

“Im not eating this.” He dropped his spoon, letting it clatter with soft yet abrasive thumps on the clothed table.

“Did I do something wrong?” The concerned look on her face nearly had him fooled.

“Save it...” He snapped, getting up with an exasperated sigh, carding his hands through his hair as he paced. “You really thought I wouldn't notice you trying to drug me?” She had gotten up to try and comfort him, yet stopped at the accusation.

“What’re you...”

He gave a curt exhale, a rather short frenzied excuse for a laugh. “It’s a good plan, your safest bet really.” She was simply left dumbfounded as she watched him pace, his wings on edge, hunched and ruffled. “I’m too fast for you to try and run, I would sniff you out if you tried hiding, fighting me would be ridiculous... knocking me out with a few pills was the only way.” She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't really decipher just what it was he was accusing her off. “So fucking clever, I could almost applaud the effort!” His voice boomed, loud and shrill, taking up the space of the open-spaced apartment. “Too bad you fucked up.” She was getting scared now, heart climbing up her throat as she watched him flail his arms, throwing a tantrum with how upset he was about something she didn't even know what was. “Shit... and I thought I was being crazy. You had me feeling bad for not trusting you and here you are trying to pull shit like this.”

She went against her better judgement and walked toward the bristled feral man, her hands held up to touch him even though it seemed she mind burn at contact. “What are you talking about? Keigo-” “Shut up.” He spat, arm flying and landing a sharp smack across her face, impact and angle sending her to the floor, though not allowing her to recover as the same abusive hand came to grab a fistful of her hair, scalp screaming as he began dragging her across the floors, forcing her to crawl after him where he began stomping to some unknown place, tasting the metal of a popped lip bleeding into her mouth. “Unless you’re gonna apologize or beg, I don't want to hear it.”

“But-” She sobbed, trying weakly to pry his fist from her hair, only to feel him tightening and pulling some more, his pace making her soft knees scathe on the marble floors, burns running down her shins.

“It’s time you understood your place as my mate. Your only purpose.” He dismissed.

She’d gotten rather used to being thrown down on the bed, but not with Keigo’s fierce feathers cutting off her dress with little regard to a avoid nicking her skin, nor with his hand squeezing the life out of her, windpipe crushing beneath his brutal grip. 

“This is the only thing you’re any good for, only thing you’re made for, only thing you are. Just my little breeding-bitch, nothing else.” He spat as he ripped her panties down, dug his nails into her thighs while kicking her legs apart as she heaved and spluttered for more air, coughing in a fit once he removed his hand to better spread her open, her dress in tethers around her bruised body, skin once soft now sliced in a thousand small bleeding cuts, her hand weakly coming to push at his pelvis, as she was rendered unable to speak, only hiccup and cough and cry. And Keigo didn't waste any time, spitting on his spitefully erect cock, the only moisture he’d deemed necessary as he pushed inside her dry unprepared tight entrance, feeling her tense up beneath him, felt her panicked sobbing in the way she beat at his chest as he laid down on top of her, all his weight squeezing the breath from out her lungs as he let go of spreading her thighs open in favor of catching her bothersome fists, pinning them into the bed with a crushing grip as he started rolling sharply and harshly and rapidly into her. Growls erupting from someplace deep within his throat, no shame, just white-hot blinding unforgivable rage.

He climbed off once he’d emptied himself inside her, grabbing her arms, he lifted her only to throw her limp body down on the ground. “Mutts sleep on the floor.” He spat, blood still oozing from spliced skin, open wounds around her wrists where he'd clawed, neck almost ripped open beneath the impact of his teeth marking her, throat sore from screaming, yet still continuing to haul up painful bleeding sobs. 

And though he’d made it such a point that breeding was her only usage, made her say it, made her beg for it, made her thank him, he still went to find a pill, yet with the rush of what he’d just done coming to a crash he was left feeling dizzy in the spiraling downfall of his frenzy, adrenaline fizzing out and nerves starting to prickle, messaging his temples to soothe the oncoming headache, finding quite ironically he could use a pill or two to soothe his nerves, the same kind she’d tried drugging him with earlier. 

She curled up on the floor, hugging her body for comfort, bruises and cuts stinging hot against the cool carpet. 

He padded into the bathroom, unbothered by her cries, thinking they were justified, deserved. Hands casually reaching towards the pill-bottle in the medicine cabinet, popping the cap and throwing two circular, not oval, pills down his throat, face contorting at the foreign feel of them on his tongue, realizing, slowly and mortifyingly, that the taste was sweet instead of bitter, as they were supposed to be. 

Grabbing the bottle and turning it in his hand to read the label, eyes scanning and widening, blinking once, blinking twice, whispering a small breathless. “No...”

He ran back into the bedroom, cursing all the way, cursing himself all the way.

He’d mislabeled the bottles. One bottle containing what pills he’d used to take to calm himself during his ruts before finding a better outlet in his darling, the other bottle full of OxyContin. The rut-pills naturally having way less pills inside, which was why he counted that at least fifteen pills where missing this morning.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He cursed, had no mind for anything else as he rounded the corner and stood in the threshold, scared to enter, scared to breathe as he listened to his darling pained whimpers and shattered breaths. His darling still lying exactly where he’d left her, limp where were it not for the wrecked way her ribcage would rise and fall, he’d think she was dead.

Instinctively he sent his feathers out to help her up quicker than his legs could carry him over, though she recoiled at the fluttering of them, whimpering as she backed herself up into the corner of the room, sitting with her knees tucked tightly to her chest, her arms swung around them to shield herself, head hung as she winced and chocked on her cries. 

It felt like dying, the a jagged rock lodged in his chest, it felt like death, like sickness, spreading throughout him, cold and vicious, with no mercy as he began crying too.

“M’ sorry, I’m s- so sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, ple- please-” He begged, but her huddled frame was shaking in terrorized shock as she began rocking back and forth, toes curling into the carpeted floors. “Please- please, Angel.” He reached out a second time, this time not letting her flinching stop him, taking her hands in his, both equally shaking. He knelt, head hung and bowing to rest against her feet. “Forgive me...” He started kissing, first the top of her foot, then her calf, hand held loosely inside his, lips mushed to kiss the top, then her knee, pulling her into his lap, hugging her close, cradling her head to his neck, other hand splayed on her back, arm securing her tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry...”

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku came home earlier than usual, though instead of being suspicious, she felt overjoyed, welcoming him home by the door, helping him tread his jacket off his broad shoulders, hanging it up for him on the hanger to be placed inside the closet neatly, standing up on her tippy-toes as he leant down to plant a juicy kiss to his cheek, all just in the order he’d taught her. Perfection. Getting ready to ask him how his day was, before he beat her to the punch.

“Sweetie?” He asked, slight lilt in his tone.

She just smiled in return. “Yes, Daddy?” Feet placed beside each other and standing straight and perfect like a little doll.

“What did you do today?” It’s quite normal for Izuku to ask, liking to watch his little girl bounce with passion, all shy and giddy and awkward as she drones on about the lack of substance in her day with that unrestrained childlike candidness he’s forged her into.

“Uhm...” She blinked, face in wonderment. “Well... I woke up, had a bath, dressed up.... ooh, made the bed, then I played in the garden for a bit, or... for a very long while actually, I picked some flowers and made a flower-crown, and had another bath because of all the mud-”

“Come here, Bunny.” He cut off her rambling, despite it being cute, curling his finger at her to come over as he sat down on the couch. He patted the couch-cushion beside him, not his lap, which could only mean he wanted one thing. She did what she knew from experience he wanted, propping her knees up to kneel beside him. “Lie down, you know what to do.” Ass arched up over his lap, short frilly skirt hiking up her thighs, revealing her pretty cotton panties, with her face mushed in the other couch-cushion on the opposite side of him. “You want to try that again?” He stroked the ample skin of her butt, cupping one cheek in his palm and messaging calloused fingers over the soft skin, fingering the hem and snapping it back to smack her skin lightly.

“Try what again, Daddy?” She asked, unquestioning of his request, folding her feet while having them raised in the air, pearl-white socks pulled neatly over her knees beginning to roll into the crease of her bent legs.

“What did you do today?” He stroked down the back of her bare thigh, other hand leveling on the small of her back, fingering a lock of hair that laid splayed there.

“But I just told you-” Her voice still sweet and childish and girly, just the way he liked, bordering on whiny as she tipped her head back to give him a perplexed look.

“Hmm, give me your hands.” She folded her arms behind her back, let him grab ahold of both her wrists in one of his massive palms, strong finger curling around them, as he continued stroking the goose-bumped flesh of her behind with the other, lifting her skirt higher, now laying it to rest in the slope of her back, leaving her pink cotton panties on full display, hugging her round bum, all exposed atop his lap. “Tell me again. One more time for me, Bunny.”  

“I don't understand, Daddy?” She asked, feeling her breasts begin to ache with how they were squished against the cushions of the sofa, the underwire to her bra cutting into her flesh in the forced position.

“No? You don't understand?” Deku patronized. “Maybe this will help.” His hand left the soft skin it hand been fondling, his other hand tightening around her wrists, bracing for the recoil that was sure to rush through her whence his raised hand struck down with force upon the unsuspecting plush flesh.

She wailed, arms trying to pull free at once, just like he had anticipated. Her booty wiggling to shake the pain away, feet thumping down into the cushions.

“Why do you think Daddy’s punishing you?” He asked calmly, hand stroking the abused flesh of her bottom as she sniffled into the plush surface her head was resting on, thighs shivering.

“I- I don't kno- know.” She hiccuped, sobs ricochetting through her chest as her one ass-cheek stung with blood like fire.

“No? You don't know?” His hand lifted, coming down hard once again. “How about now?” Voice calm, iced and leveled, strict but soft.

“No, please-” She begged through her sobbing fit, hands uselessly struggling behind her back, cramping in his unmovable death-grip.

“Does Bunny want another slap?” He asked, condescension drowning his tone, dripping like venom as he once again messaged the welted flesh of her ass.

“No-” Her voice was mumbled and slurred through tears, wet like a moan, yet hurt like a bawling toddler who scraped their knees on the pavement.

“No? But you seem to like it so much.” He pulled at the bruised flesh, pinching it between his fingers, making her arch to try and reel away from his touch, a whimpering whine leaving her.

“I didn't do anything, Daddy please!” Squealing like a little piglet, as he worked the ample fat of her butt in his hand, kneading it like one would do dough.

“Think again, I’m sure it’s simply slipping your dumb little brain.” He mocked, eyes keen and lightning-like as they look down at her face mushed against the couch, her lips blubbering like a fish, nose red and runny with the tears coating her cheeks, drool dribbling down her chin from the heavy wrecking sobs.

“No daddy, I-” Another branding landing of his large hand against her unprotected abused and bruised skin.

“Bad bunny, you mustn't tell lies.” He chastised, letting go of her wrists in favor of entangling the brutish hand in her hair, holding her skull in his palm as he dragged her up, other clawed knuckled paw manhandling her into kneeling over his lap, her trembling little body doing nothing but abide by his direction, sniveling and sniffling, hiccuping on beaten shuddering breaths as she blinked to make the brimming tears fall out of her sore eyes, lids puffy and eyelashes glossed, looking so adorably vulnerable when wincing at his fingers digging into the delicate softness of her hips, keeping her seated, ass blossoming with lilac and maroon. “My little pet tried to escape today, didn't she?” His eyes were set and stone-cold as he narrowed them slightly at her, left eye mildly twitching every second or so.

Her hands held onto his arms, more to balance herself as she cried than for his sake. “What... no-” She mumbled out between sniffs and bleating, eyes too dewy to focus, mind too clogged to be thinking of much more than her aching flesh.

“No?” His voice mimicked her frail timber. “Then how come I know you tried opening the door to the mudroom at exactly 2.37 in the afternoon today?” He quirked a brow, nostrils flaring at the building potent brew of rage within him. “Care to explain what you where thinking?” 

Chest heaving sporadically, still with her sobs she tried formulating what muddled answer she could. “I- the rain-”

“The rain!” He stated, voice sharp and booming, not buying whatever sorry excuse she was trying to sell him. “Gotta do better than that, Bunny.” He almost felt offended with how little she’d prepared for this, he would have thought she’d come up with something better than the weather.

She sniffled. “I- I didn't want to ruin my shoes in the mu- mud, and my boots are in the mudroom, bu- but the d-door was locked, so I went barefoot instead, I’m so- sorry-” She managed to blubber out, breaths hitching, toppling her words, voice cracked and uneven in her rambling.

“Boots? Barefoo-” He asked, but answered his own question by backtracking to what she’d said about spending the day in the garden. “You weren't trying to leave?” He stated, again more like the answer to his own question.

She whimpered like a pup, small pained cries. “Leave? Why... why would I leave?”

He stared at her for a moment, features soon drawing back, a shrouded mind clearing, biting his tongue. “No reason...” He answered her bleary confused features, hands softening in their grip on her hips, nails dislodging from digging into her skin. “Don't walk barefooted when you’re outside, I don't want you to get sick.” He saved himself, casting the events and the punishment onto the measly crime.

“I won't ever do it again, I promise!” She shook her head, arms swung around his shoulders, pushing her head into the nook of his neck for comfort, basking in the familiar scent of cologne, rubbing her teary face off on the color to his shirt, kissing his throat, laying its worship, body pressed flush against his, hips shimming to better slot herself down on his lap.

Her actions were well received, a little too well with how rigid and uptight and exhausted he was in the wake of his fading anger. “Good girl.” He sighed, pleased. Large hand finding her cheek, cupping it and her chin to pull her up to face him. “It’s been a long day, give me a kiss.” She didn't hesitate, soft bloated lips pressed primly into his, welcoming how he liked to suck on her bottom lip, welcoming how his teeth liked to chew on it, knowing how to make herself useful, petite hands finding his chest, working at the perfect pace in unbuttoning his shirt, hips rocking like they’d been taught to awaken what was kept inside his pants.

TIP-JAR

FOLLOW-UP ASK

Can I request Yandere Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya kidnapping a Fan Reader? Y/N is a fan but mostly those type of fans that admire from afar. But the reader can't handle being in the same room with the yandere. The reader gets all red and runs away. And if the yandere show affection, Y/N covers their face from embarrassment.

Kidnapping Fan Reader (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Ngl, this request is the bomb. Like seriously, I love ideas like these! Anyways, I’m gonna make these a lil long, and also I was a lil confused on how to make the reader a fan?? But I tried so here ya go. Please enjoy! (Side note: Good Lordy these are long😳😳 my bad)

Word count: 3814

Bakugou Katsuki:

As a pro hero, Bakugou was initially quite frightening to you. 

You were a nobody, just someone who always happened to be in the crowd whenever he had a person to save, but then your view of him changed when one day he saved a kitten from a tree in the park. 

It was the first time you had ever seen him so… calm. There was even a hint of a smile on his face when the cat chattered at him. Then, of course, he noticed you creepily watching him. 

A blush encompassed your face but before he could shout at you for watching him, you had dashed away with your hands on your cheeks. 

At first, Bakugou was confused. What a dumbass.

But then it was like he was seeing your blushing face everywhere. No one had ever looked at him like that-- like he was cute. 

Months passed, and you couldn’t help but notice the hero Ground Zero had become partial to patrolling your part of town for any danger. 

You brushed it off, counting it as a blessing since you often got to see him on the rooftop across from your apartment building, just surveying the street below. 

If only you had known that he was only watching you.

Bakugou couldn’t believe how stupid you were, leaving your window so open and bare for anyone to peer inside. Anyone could watch and see how you curled up on your couch to read a book. They could see how you would slowly fall asleep, head dropping back as a bit of drool dribbled down your chin. Any loser stupid enough to look through the glass would see how your shirt became rumpled as you shifted in your sleep. It was large enough to slip off one shoulder and leave your untainted skin bare for anyone to corrupt. 

God, it was like you were teasing him, daring him to come take what was his. Bakugou would teach you a lesson or two about toying with him. 

The wind blew through your open window. You always left it cracked since your AC was a bit fickle. And as you dozed off to sleep, you were almost certain that squeaky noise that reminded you to buy a little WD-40 once in a while was only a dream. 

Licking his lips, Bakugou slid open your window, cringing as it whined with the movement. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, pushing it up the rest of the way. Thankfully, you were already knocked out, soft snores falling from your lips in a steady pattern. 

He couldn’t help but glance around your apartment, snickering at the sight of a poster in your open bedroom. It was from a photoshoot of his from when he first debuted as a pro hero. You had purchased the partially shirtless version. 

Surely you wanted this too, then.

And with that logic, he didn’t worry when your eyes fluttered open after he picked you up. 

Mind foggy, you were rudely awakened from your dream about a certain pro hero when you felt your body being lifted. The perpetrator made you wonder if you were still dreaming. 

“Ground Zero?”

“It’s Katsuki, babe. Call me Katsuki from now on.” His arms felt like solid metal, caging your knees and side to his chest as he carried you bridal style to your- open window?!

“W-what are you doing?” He snickers at this.

“Oh please. Don’t act all innocent now. I’ve seen your poster of me, and how you blush whenever I stop a villain in front of you. You want me, YN. And I want you too.”

“Please, I don’t want this!” You struggle in his arms, placing your hands on his chest to push him away but he doesn’t budge. 

“You little tease,” he hisses, using his arms to hold you over the ten story drop that was your open window. “I know what you like.” Fear leaves your body trembling as you default to your instincts, wrapping your arms around his neck so as to not fall to your death. Bakugou grins at this. “You think I don’t know how to read you by now?”

“Please don’t.” 

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’m taking you home.”

And with that, he hops out of the window and explodes his way through the skies, reveling in the way you cling to his body so tightly. Your whines and whimpers were so cute. Almost as adorable as the blush you used to always wear around him.

It only takes a year to break you. 

In his own home, he kept you locked up tightly. Every window was barred and every door to freedom had six locks, each matching the keys he dangled on his fingertips every time he came home. 

In the first few weeks, you were scared of him and what he would do. Then a month later, you determined his attitude: he was naturally loud and volatile, but he would never hurt you. From then on, he expected you to act a certain way.

Cook him dinner, greet him with a kiss, sleep in his arms, and never try to escape. 

It had been a struggle to get you to agree to the pattern, but after months and months of practice, you finally got in the groove. 

Bakugou even got to see that classic blush of yours whenever he arrived home and peppered your face with kisses. 

Totally worth it.

Todoroki Shouto:

With Todoroki, you’re just a minor student in the Support class of UA, but everytime you cross paths with him in the halls, you let out a squeak and sprint past him. 

Todoroki tried to shake it off. Of course, you weren’t the first person to be wary of him and his abilities. Honestly, it was nothing new and he had a mark to prove it. 

Really, it’s true. Todoroki thought you hated his guts. You always avoid talking to him and hide your face whenever he comes into a room. He thought that was a red flush of anger on your face. 

It’s only when Kaminari groans about how jealous he is over the whole thing. 

“Ugh, Todoroki, you’re so lucky. Why does a hottie like YN have to be whipped for a guy like you?!”

Todoroki just shrugs and walks away, but it only hits him later in his dorm that “Oh shit, that’s what that is.”

He’s all like, “Hmm, makes sense.”

It doesn’t make sense, but he still likes you.

He’s not really sure why, he just does. Todoroki’s never had a girl that acted like you around him. Acted like he was this great person worthy of admiration, whether from a distance or up close. 

The thought of you begins to leave fuzzy feelings in his chest. You? Whipped for him? Nu-uh, no way.

But God, then he notices the way you smile when he enters a room, just before you hide your face. And the way you stutter and fumble over your feet to run away when he talks to you. 

With a quick Google search, he deduces that these are all signs of a crush. 

Oh. Ohh. Well… Todoroki kind of liked that. 

And the next day, he was determined to talk to you. He wanted to see those cherry cheeks up close, and those little flecks of color in your eyes as well. He wanted to see your pupils dilate and your lips fumble for words because you were speechless at the sight of-

What.

A man. No, not a man. An unworthy piece of shit was talking to you. Making you laugh and giggle enough that a rosy tint fell on your face. He was too close for comfort, only inches away from brushing your hand with his. 

Todoroki had to stop this. 

In seconds, he’s covered the distance between you two, feet stomping against the floor loud enough to gather the attention of most in the classroom. He had barged into your classroom to talk to you.

“T-todoroki,” you stutter pathetically, eyes wide as you scramble to hide your face. Blood had risen to the skin of your neck, clear as day thanks to you turning your head to the side. 

“YN, I need to talk to you.” With a hard glare at the other guy, the Class 1A student latches a cold hand over your wrist and tugs you out of the classroom, other students watching in awe at the display. 

“W-what are you-” you cut yourself off and curse under your breath, heat gathering in your face. God, you hated how you couldn’t control yourself in front of him.

Todoroki loved it.

“Shh, just come with me,” he hushes, dragging you into a nearby janitor’s closet just as the bell rings.

“But we need to get to class,” you choke out, proud of how you kept your words steady this round. Butterflies flutter in your abdomen when he pulls you into the tiny room, closing the door behind him before turning to you. 

“We can skip for a bit.” Heterochromatic eyes burn into your own, leaving you ducking your head and scuffing your shoes on the floor. 

“Why-” your question falls from your lips when Todoroki begins to leer closer to you. The sudden proximity leaves you stumbling back until you hit a wall, gulping when his forearms cage you in, one on either side of your head. 

“I didn’t like that, YN.”

“L-like what?”

“That guy,” he seethes. A heat begins to flow off him, growing hot enough to make your forehead perspire. The other half of your body is almost numb, slowly fading into the first dead twinges of frostbite. One of your cheeks feels sunburned while the other is completely desensitized. “He shouldn’t have been touching you.”

Was this a dream? This boy, a soon-to-be pro hero and one of the top in the school, had cornered you in a closet with his face inches away from yours. You didn’t even know he knew you existed. You had always watched from afar, first falling for his aloof looks at the sports festival. 

And now… you just didn’t know. 

“I can’t let that happen again, YN. I just can’t let you run around talking to other guys, laughing and being so close to them when you know you’re mine.” 

What was he going on about?

“Not anymore,” he finally adds, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes. 

It doesn’t dawn until it happens that he had grabbed a cloth off a shelf in the janitor’s closet. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform invades your senses as you scream in surprise.

You couldn’t help it after a while. You were so tired. And as your vision fades to black, Todoroki purses his lips and wraps his spare arm around your waist. “Not anymore,” he mutters.

You had always known the Todoroki family was loaded. Though it’s not why you liked him, you couldn’t avoid the fact that he used it to his advantage-- especially with you. 

He had bought a small apartment only a few blocks away from UA and decked it out with soundproof walls, bulletproof glass, and locks on everything. 

The one bedroom-- your bedroom-- was beautiful. Silk sheets on a king-sized bed, canopy overhanging it like a protective curtain. There was a bookshelf and a television for your entertainment, along with a window seat so you could see the outside-- the glass was tinted, of course. He didn’t want anyone invading your privacy. 

A closet was filled to the brim with clothing of your size, all fitting like they had been tailored for your body alone. As much as you hated to admit it, Todoroki treated you like a queen. A kidnapped one, yes, but a queen nonetheless. 

He was only waiting for the day that you would ask him to join you on that large, lonely bed of yours. 

Midoriya Izuku: 

In all sense of the word, you were his fan. Really, there was nothing more to it. 

You would flock to all his fights, simply amazed by his power and will. He was a hero, pure and kind to all with an open mind for everyone, and you admired that. 

It also didn’t hurt that Deku was attractive. Rippling muscles hid behind a green costume, almost too similar to the retired hero All Might’s. Freckles dusted over the bridge of his nose and onto the tips of his cheeks, giving him an almost boyish look, but there was something in his eyes. Something you couldn’t see unless he looked directly at you- Oh!

You glanced away with a blush after the number one hero looked up from tying down the villain he had captured. He must have felt your eyes and saw you staring like a hawk-- how embarrassing!

Of course, you weren’t the only one watching him. There was an entire crowd gathered to see the pro hero do his thing. It was only awkward that he had made eye contact with you of all people. What made it worse was that he had smirked. 

Not even his normal, everyday smile that he gave to everyone, but a sly, devious little quirk of his lips. It looked so foreign on his face, and it felt like he knew something you didn’t. 

Ugh, how embarrassing.

You couldn’t hide the heat on your cheeks so you decided to abandon the group of fans, leaving them to watch the rest of Deku’s and hoping to catch up on the news later that night. 

If only you knew that wouldn’t be the first time he had noticed you in a crowd. 

Deku had been watching you for weeks. You were just so adorable, he couldn’t help himself. And honestly, deep down he sees himself in you. There’s a strength behind your eyes, a confidence to do something, and a will to make things happen. 

Deku wanted to help you discover how great you are. In the beginning, at least.

Now, it’s become more of an obsession. 

Under the guise that he wants to see what quirk or potential you have, he’s fallen into the habit of watching you in his spare time. 

No, it’s not stalking. He’s just making sure you’re safe. 

Somewhere during this process of wanting to get to know your life, he’s discovered that you’re perfect. Not only for him, but for everybody. 

You were kind to others, always handing out compliments and taking the high road in arguments. So pure, so untouched. Deku wanted to keep it that way. 

It was all the better when he had followed you home one day and saw it-- the home screen of your phone. It was a picture of him taken by a local fansite. Dramatic flames had been photoshopped behind his outlined form, and even Deku had to admit he looked good. The picture had caught every detail, every indent of his body the hero suit clung to and enhanced. 

He caught you biting your lip and clicking your phone off with a blush before continuing home. 

Deku just knew he had to tease you more. 

What he felt wasn’t fluffy at all. It was intense. A deep, possessive side of him had been unlocked the more he followed you. One day, he knew he had to do something about it. 

Another kidnapping, another villain fought, and as expected, you were among the crowd of spectators. Deku figured you were just as addicted to him as he was to you.

You must’ve been. It was the only explanation. 

You wiggled your way through the crowd all the way to the edge, right where you could peek between all the surrounding people and catch a glimpse of the battle. 

Blood poured from a gash in Deku’s head as he dodged another swing from the villain. 

He hasn’t been moving his legs much, surely I can strike… now!

With a swift kick of his foot, Deku cracked the villain’s kneecap with enough force to make him crumple to the ground. His audience cheered at the sight and news reporters began smiling at their cameras, announcing to their viewers at home that the number one hero had won yet another battle.

While he kneeled down on the villain’s back, his gaze wandered the crowd. 

Where? Where is she? Where’s YN? 

Panic struck his heart when he couldn’t find you in your usual front row spot. No, you were here. You had to be.

His ears perked through all the jabberings of the crowd at the sound of a single camera clicking. Eyes darting back and forth, he finally spotted your signature phone case, with a chibi version of his own face on the back. 

Relief floods his system all before that familiar rush of arrogance that always comes with you watching him takes over. As soon as he finally catches your eye, he throws you a wink.

The outcome is certainly not disappointing. 

Oh my God, he just winked at me. 

You blanch at the sight before your throat releases a little squeal of excitement. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, but apparently it was still audible from thirty feet away. 

You’re almost positive steam is blowing from your ears by the time Deku begins chuckling, green eyes twinkling in glee. 

 Before you could spontaneously combust, you hightail it out of there, shouldering through the crowd and tearing cheek all the way to your house like a bat out of hell. 

“That did not just happen!” You slam your apartment door behind you, coughing and heaving breaths as it had been a while since you ran a goddamn marathon. 

“Oh my God, kill meeeeee,” you whine, running your hands down your face before flopping backwards onto the couch. Evidently, you had accidentally sat on your remote, as the television clicks on and scares the shit out of you. 

“Number one hero Deku defeated the villain only twenty minutes ago, right outside this gas station. Now, we do have footage, but we must warn that it may be graphic for some viewers.”

Your eyes drift to the screen as it switches to footage of the actual fight. Deku takes a hit right to the forehead, leaving a small gash before he dodges and jams the heel of his foot into his opponent’s kneecap, dropping him in seconds. The footage drags on for a few more seconds, and your face burns at the sight of him winking and snickering. 

“They actually got footage of that?!” Part of you is mortified that people all over the city had now seen that (and you’re a bit surprised that it was even real), but the other half is almost glad that it was you he had done that for. Your heart warms at the thought.

“I know, right? I kinda want to save that video now. If only they had caught your cute little blush too.” The sudden voice leaves you lying rigid on your couch. It’s a man’s, and it sounds way too cheerful for your average robber.

“Who are yo-” you cut yourself off when the man comes into view, taking your breath away. 

“Hi darling,” Deku grins. A rough hand peels away from his side to brush the hair away from your face, not faltering when you flinch away. 

“Deku…?” You try to sit up but in an instant, he’s straddling you, one leg on either side of your hip while his face nuzzles against yours. 

“God this is a dream come true, don’t you agree?” 

“How…?” Your mind has truly gone blank, even as your mouth gapes like a fish. 

“Don’t you agree?” Deku repeats insistently. The knees on either side of your hips have begun to press against you with bruising force. His hands trail up and down your arms slowly, just trying to feel you. 

“Why are you here?”

Deku huffs and pulls away, only to press his forehead against yours. “C’mon YN, I know you’re smarter than that.” Rude. “I’m here so we can finally be together!” 

Your hands tremble at your sides. There’s a definitive edge to his tone that makes you understand there’s no other way out of this.

“... You want to be together, right?” Only a second ago, he looked so dangerous and now his eyes are watering. Who exactly had you fallen for? 

“Deku… we don’t know each other.” It was then that you discovered there was nothing more awkward than reassuring a random man straddling your lap. The awkwardness only increased when his tears began to drip down onto your face. 

“YN, please don’t make me do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“I really didn’t want to do this, but I can see now there’s no other way.”

“Deku,” you don’t like the low timber that has grown into his tone, “what are you doing?” 

There was no point in fighting. Deku was a pro hero, number one at that. He’d trained for years, perfecting his body and his quirk, and the best you’ve ever done is buy a gym membership and never use it. 

That’s exactly why no matter how you pushed against his broad shoulders, his toned chest, or even tried to knee him where the sun didn't shine, you couldn’t stop him from pulling the cloth out of his pocket and laying it over your face. 

“Shh,” he couldn’t hold back his tears as you struggled. “Please don’t fight it, YN. Just breathe it in and I promise we can be together forever. Just breathe.”

You wanted to keep fighting. You didn’t want to go where this insane, batshit hero would inevitably take you. But God…

You were so tired…

The next time you wake up, the sun is shining through a nearby window. What you assume is a bed lies beneath you, enveloping you in it’s soft covers. 

Solid, muscular arms are wound around you like a barrier, and you finally take note of what had woken you up.

Pain. Teeth are nibbling at the skin of your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Please stop,” you say, voice scratched from little use. The thigh that has worked its way between the two of your own presses higher against your sensitivity, shifting with excitement as Deku smiles.

“Good morning, darling! Welcome to your new home!”