#yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

Sorry, ik your requests are closed, but lemme just say that I won’t be upset if you do more Bakugou’s sibling content. Xoxo, anon

[2.4K]

refer to this fic for better understanding.

warning: domestic violence, gaslighting

│

It had been a week already and you hadn’t told anything to your parents of your altercation with your brother - where he insulted you, got violent, and locked you in his room to leave you unconscious until he came back after collecting himself.

Living with him proved to be a challenge, now that you couldn’t stay in one space with him without expecting the worst. You’d flinch whenever he would move his arm or simply do so much as speak to address you. And when he did, when he’d call you with that rough voice you usually wouldn’t mind, you’d quiver like you were just yelled at even though the effort of keeping his volume to a minimum was strikingly obvious.

The actual yelling came when he grew irritated with how you treated him like he were some abuser. You only wished he understood why. He tended to be more violent with you, more verbally abusive, like he didn’t regret smacking you on the face with nearly all his strength accumulated from hero training. 

Then there were times when he was weird, overly affectionate - the back-to-normal Katsuki in which he took pride of the title as big brother. It made you question if the incident really did happen in the first place. Throughout the course of the week, whenever he was at home, he’d sit down beside you and teach you the topics in class you were apparently struggling with. There were times he would bring home a gallon of [favorite flavor] ice cream, telling you to get greedy with it under the ruse that it’d be a waste if you didn’t.

It scared you how you’d view his affectionate side as odd, and his abusive one as normal. Even so, after all that, he still continued to micromanage you. This time, you were too afraid to do anything about it.

Your breath hitched the moment you heard the main door open. Katsuki muttered a quick “I’m home” before entering farther inside the house. From your place against the kitchen counter, you breath slowed down abnormally as you guessed he was searching for you in the living room.

He was coming near; you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear but you could tell, because never had anyone that bigger of a presence than your brother. He emerged from the kitchen entrance, face relaxing slightly when his eyes met yours. 

“Why didn’t you come to greet me?” He asked sternly.

Weird. You never really greeted him everyday as if it were a routine, not especially after that incident. You chose to ignore him and focus on your phone with intent.

He advanced towards you and you tensed in an instant. You nearly whimpered when his hand - the dominant one that had hit you - lifted to hold you by the head and divert your attention to him entirely.

He ordered, “Say, ‘welcome back, oniichan.’”

“W-welcome back, oniichan.” You abruptly responded, gulping with glossy eyes. 

He chuckled, like he found you amusing. He let you go to rummage the fridge for a snack. “Still scared of me? Thought you were over that.”

You replied this time lest he’d do something about your ignorance. “I-I’m not.”

“Scared or over it?”

You wanted to hit him. “How could I get over it, Katsuki? You slapped me on the face. I bled.”

“It’s not like you had to be sent to the hospital.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing a plate from the counter. “You’re too sensitive. I didn’t do that shit just because I wanted to. You were being rude.”

And you weren’t being rude just because you wanted to. He was invading your privacy, of course, you had to do something about it. Besides, your rudeness shouldn’t have justified his violence. Although you guessed he wouldn’t care.

So you stayed silent, not finding reason to reason with him after figuring out he wouldn’t heed all of it. Still, his audacity made you tear up in frustration. You wanted to cry because you feared him when you shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have hit you in the first place; shouldn’t have said hurtful things to you and controlled you just because he thought you were incapable of yourself.

You heard him sigh as you wiped the tears off your eyes with the sleeves of your pajamas. 

“It was just a one-time thing.” He said, sauntering over to you, making you tense. “ ‘s not gonna happen again. Promise.” He gave you a side hug, then slid the occupied plate to you. “Now, eat up.”

===

You knew it was wrong, and that there was something wrong with your brother the moment he hurt you like that. It was difficult to admit but it was doubtlessly a case of abuse, and you weren’t about to remain silent just because it was a one-time thing (hopefully). Dumb as you might be, you knew your worth.

So you decided to spill out the truth one movie night, because then Katsuki wouldn’t be capable of doing anything to you in front of your parents’ eyes.

“Mom, Katsuki hit me on the face.”

In the speed of lightning, all heads turned to you, Katsuki having the countenance of anger and betrayal. You didn’t betray him, he didn’t even have to trust you in the first place. Dad’s expression was starting to morph into something of discomfort.

“What the fuck? I didn’t.” Katsuki said somewhat steadily.

“You did!” You insisted, turning to mom. “Mom, I lied. It wasn’t the door that hit me. Katsuki told me to tell you that I got hit by the door.”

Still not saying anything about the matter, Mitsuki looked over to her son. The television became noise on the background.

“You’ll really believe that ungrateful brat over me?” Your brother scoffed and turned to you. “After everything I did for you, you go around telling mom shit I didn’t do? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with you?!” You retorted, voice whiny as you got desperate. You were tearing up, too. “I wouldn’t have told this if it didn’t happen, but it did!”

Masaru intervened, “Why did he hit you?”

“I didn’t fucking hit them!”

“Katsuki.”

He huffed, sinking down the couch with his arms crossed, glowering at you.

“I-I was mad at him, because he was invading my privacy. He wanted to confiscate my phone.” You explained between hiccups. “Then we began yelling at each other and he hit me with his hand.”

Katsuki was visibly seething on his seat. You feared you might have had been too presumptuous and that he wouldn’t actually hesitate to hit you again in front of your parents. He looked as if he were about to do that, scarlet eyes staring at you furiously, large hands gripping on the couch’s side like he was going to stand up to approach you. Veins prominent on his forearms as if he were restraining himself from doing shit to you that you wouldn’t want him to.

So, just in case he were to actually do that, you sprinted out of the living room and up the stairs to your bedroom, ignoring your parents’ calls for you to come back. They got the gist that you couldn’t stand being in the same space with your brother.

Mitsuki, aggravated, glared at her son. “Katsuki, what the hell really happened?”

“I didn’t do shit to them,” He replied almost immediately. “Didn’t tell them to lie to you, either. They’re just bored. Wanna stir some drama in their life.”

“Why did you want to confiscate their phone?” Masaru questioned.

Mom and dad would understand, right? You had online friends - how was that not dangerous? If he would change the narrative a bit, maybe it would make more sense.

“They were talking to strangers online, telling them to do weird shit.” Like asking you to join them in video games or something, therefore robbing him off of your time with him, but he wouldn’t say that. Their perspective has to be in his favor. “I was literally just trying to protect them.”

Mitsuki remained silent, evaluating the dilemma that was suddenly put to light. She said after a while, “I’m starting to think something’s wrong with them.”

“No shit.” Katsuki grunted.

“I meant like a condition in the mind, mentally disabled.” She said seriously. “We should probably bring them to a doctor.”

“Don’t.” Katsuki was quick to shut the idea down, alarm oddly evident in his tone of voice. “ ‘s not worth it.”

You weren’t going to a doctor, not if he can help it. He was more than capable of handling you if only you weren’t acting such a selfish, unappreciative brat all the damn time. You could depend entirely on him and he’d make your life so pristine and manageable.

“You really think they’re a mentally ill freak?” He added as to persuade them not to. “They’re just desperate for drama and attention. It’s just a phase. It’ll pass eventually.”

Mitsuki appeared to be considering his words, and Katsuki knew at once that he won the persuasion. Of course, mom would highly regard his point, because she always did. That had always been the sibling dynamic between the two of you; you were dumb, and he was the star child.

As the three gradually focused back into the movie, Masaru spoke with gravity in his tone. “Whatever made them say that you had hit them, stop it. I do not tolerate that kind of problem in this household.”

Katsuki, disgruntled, clicked his tongue in response. “Yeah, yeah. Not like anything even happened in the first place.”

===

That was an empty promise as he dragged you by the arm, away from the snacks you were eating on the kitchen counter that he told you were forbidden to eat because they were unhealthy.

You thought he was out, he was supposed to be out - he was on hero duty - what was he doing in the house?

You shouted his name in retaliation, heart racing in panic at the endless possibilities of what he could do to you now that your parents were currently out doing work, no one to save you in their absence. They were the only ones who were capable of reprimanding Katsuki for what he had done and making him promise not to do it again. Silly you, believing what he had said that it would only be a one time thing, this abuse. You shouldn’t have tolerated his action and should have been more insistent with your parents last night.

“You really think I'd let you go after the shit you pulled off last night?” He spat derisively, the tone of his voice quite matching his deranged smile. 

You swore the grip he had on your upper arm couldn’t get any tighter, but it did, and your bones begged for release as the rest of your arm felt cold in a flash.

“You- you said-” You heaved, hand frantically pulling at his clutch on you. Then you screamed, looking at him with wide, wronged eyes. “You said it was a one-time thing! You said it wouldn’t happen again! Katsuki!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He hauled you onto the sofa, air forced out of your lungs from the impact, earning a pained “ugh” from your mouth.

Katsuki seethed, “It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but you pissed me off. I have no choice but to put you back in your damn place.”

You didn’t want to know what he meant by that, but you guessed that either way, you were bound to find out. 

“If I grab you like this,” He aggressively grabbed you by the neck, just below your jaw. “You’ll tell mom and dad? Hm?”

“Katsuki, stop this-” You attempted to say but his grip only tightened, spurring you to panic and say things impulsively. You clawed on his skin. “I hate you! Fuck off! You’re the worst!”

“Wrong fucking answer.” He hissed, grip unfaltering. His long pointer finger reached to press on your cheek injury. “So, what? You’ll tell mom and dad?”

“K-Katsuki-”

“Don’t give me more reason to hurt you.”

This time, you couldn’t afford to hide your fear any longer. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him in an amalgam of contempt, fear, and betrayal. Nevertheless, you prioritized your safety; you said through hiccups, “I-I won’t. I won’t tell mom and dad.”

He appeared to be satisfied with your answer, a conceited grin on his face as if he found your tears an entertainment. Just as you thought he was done, he raised an arm.

“And if I hit you like this-” his hand went down to smack you on your uninjured cheek and your mind was too slow to process what he was going to do, but your body, accustomed to his tendencies, moved autonomously - your eyes closed as you braced for the impact by reflex. 

The pain was absent too long for it to be deemed a registering feeling. When you opened your eyes, Katsuki’s hand was only centimeters away from your face. He looked at you, grin no longer present, evaluating your features.

“If I hit you like this,” He continued, voice low, “will you tell mom and dad?”

Whimpering, you shook your head no, fearing the worst of your tight situation. You were scared shitless.

“I know you won’t.” His gruff voice contrasted greatly with his soft tone. You only stared at him in confused agitation. “Because you love me. You love your big brother. And you know I love you, right? I only want the best for you. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Doing what? Inflicting violence on you? Gaslighting you?

“Com’ere.” You were brought close to him as he switched your places, his person now sitting on the soft cushion as yours was already seated on his lap. You remained still, terrified. “I never do anything without reason.” He began caressing your crown. “Just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

You knew he was wrong, that his actions justified not your safety but to keep you from telling your parents of his mistreatment to you. It would only get worse the longer you wouldn’t tell anyone.

Yet his embrace gave you a sense of belongingness and security you hadn’t felt in a long while; perhaps it was because you’d been deviating from him for so long. He was mean, sure, but it was hard to resist when you’d been abused (by the same person comforting you) for a period of time.

When you gradually hugged him back through your fits of sobs and whimpers, he knew he had won.

He smiled, unhinged. “You’re going to listen to me from now on, alright?”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #boku no hero academia x reader #bully bakugo #platonic yandere bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #platonic yandere katsuki bakugo x reader #reader insert #platonic bnha #yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

[2.9K]

Bakugo Katsuki with a younger sibling he’s so platonically head over heels with. Wants you to depend on him so much, and hates it when you rely on others. Typical platonic yandere sibling but the catch is that he has something to assist him in letting you solely depend on him only. That something? Your neurodevelopmental condition.

warning: micromanagement, minor domestic violence, ADHD; did research but again it might as well be inaccurate

│

Katsuki was five when you were born, the loveliest thing that he had ever encountered in his life, aligning tiers with the memory when he had first received his quirk. You had bright, scarlet eyes, and your hair was a pretty shade of (h/c), of which father had explained you had inherited from your grandmother, his mom. You were a stark carbon copy of her.

But you were someone else in Katsuki’s eyes. He had cherished you so much the first time you stepped into the house you would come in terms to call home, but he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t need to, anyway; Mitsuki already had countless photos to bind with time of Katsuki simply adoring everything you did as a baby. He happily fed you, was in charge of your baby backpack which consisted of your favorite toys and milk bottle, and overall took great care of you and acted like the responsible brother he was and would be in the following years to come - only a bit more of a despot.

Upon reaching toddler age, you showed signs of inheriting Masaru’s personality - timid, soft-spoken, and kind-hearted. You were the breather the Bakugou family needed, quite honestly. Whenever a yelling competition would start between your mother and older brother, you would get cranky and upset, and they didn’t want that. So the screaming would only ever happen during moments when you weren’t awake, because you were one hell of a deep sleeper, with your dad helping to drown out their obnoxious voices by playing classical music - something he liked.

While Katsuki adored you, you idolized him very much, doing various attempts to copy his attitude and tendencies though your kind heart and lack of quirk wouldn’t allow you to. Why wouldn’t you want to be like him? He was smart, awesome, and he got homework done right on time, too. In elementary, you’d often find yourself forgetting to do schoolwork, which resulted your grades to plummet down. If you did remember, you would avoid it for reasons unexplainable, even when you knew it was very important.

First signs of your condition.

He’d watch as Mitsuki would reprimand you for every mistake that could have been avoided, and you’d sit there, wondering to yourself why you’d done those mistakes even when they did indeed could have been avoided. In that way, you wouldn’t have been receiving verbal slaps from your hotheaded mother. After every reproach, she’d calm down and tell you that she was doing this (the yelling, the screeching, the disappointed staring) for your own good, so that you’d learn from your mistakes. You never did.

Katsuki would resent his mother for it, but also wondered the same: why were you so unreasonably irresponsible with yourself? He was around fourteen - you, nine - when he bothered to search the net of your possible condition; and there they were, all the telltales that you may actually have a little something called ADHD. He knew it wasn’t right to diagnose you with it yet it was so painfully obvious he probably didn’t even need a doctor to tell him there was something wrong with your pretty little head.

Despite that, he never made advances to suggest that you might be having some sort of mental condition, because then Mitsuki would consider psychiatry and you wouldn’t get to be so dependent on him as you were right now.

It’s less of a boost of his ego and more of the fuel of desire to want you to be entirely dependent on him. He loved it when you ask for his assistance regardless of how small the favor was; it made him feel aware of what you were doing and be in control of you. He liked it that way so he wouldn’t be so paranoid of you every single time.

It wasn’t like he was being unreasonable with fretting over you. You were kind and dumb - two traits that made you selfless to a fault. You’d do anything for the comfort of others it made you borderline suicidal - and due to that, due to not wanting to be of burden to others, you began forcing yourself to become independent, away from your brother’s constant watch. He didn’t like that. He wanted you to lean on him; he’d do anything for it.

Almost like he wanted you to be incapacitated just to get you to rely on him.

But it wasn’t like he’d actually act on the thought, right? It was just a thought. A stagnant one that he soon came to reconsider during his dorm life, when he only ever got to see you every few months. You’d call him every other day whenever you needed assistance with your homework. He’d call you every other day whenever he missed you - which was actually every other hour of the day.

Even far apart, you would still ask your brother for help.

“Alright, do the next number by yourself.” He stated one time in a phone call, when 11-year-old you had asked him to teach you improper fractions.

There was a timid ‘okay’ from your end, and then shuffling of pages, like you were referring to your notes to guide you with the equation. He answered three questions of his own homework whilst you solved. Five minutes in and he was starting to get impatient.

“Well?” He demanded.

“I-I um,” you staggered, “I don’t get it...”

“Which part?”

“Uh... everything...”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He rhetorically asked, tone rough and aggravated. “Everything?”

He always cursed (and had inculcated into you that you were strictly prohibited from doing so), but this time particularly, it hurt. You knew you weren’t the smartest but he didn’t have to reprimand you for it. You couldn’t help yourself.

He reminded you of mom.

“I’m gonna teach you again, and you better get it right this time. Got it?” His tone was sharp, like the one Mitsuki had used on you back then. You held back a whimper. “So, first thing you gotta do is cross-multiply the-”

“Hey, I think I get it.” You hastily said, failing to cover the crack on your voice. “Thanks, oniichan.”

“Really?” He raised a brow. “Tell me the answer then.”

“You probably got a lot on your plate, huh? I bet hero studies is a lot.” You rambled. “I’m gonna go now. Thanks for tutoring me. Bye!”

“Hey wait-” but you ended the call before he could finish.

Shit. Right then he knew his words took a toll on you. He should have taken to account how sensitive you were. To be fair, you’d never acted that way whenever he would berate you for being so dumb. You’d just laugh it off and shrug with a timid smile. Wait, maybe you were just putting up a front and were actually ashamed of how you had to ask your brother for help every single time.

He called you several times after that but you didn’t pick up the phone. He called mom and demanded to give the phone to you but you told mom to tell him that you were busy studying.

Next day, homework was checked and you got a failing grade. Somehow, you weren’t disappointed. It was the first time you answered and finished schoolwork without the help of Katsuki.

Shiiit. He fucked up, he really did, and it was showing by how you weren’t so dependent on him anymore. Most times he was the one instigating the call and you now seldom did. It’d been weeks since you last asked him for help, but he still remembered, because he knew he had made you cry that time.

He returned home for the weekend, both excited and nervous to see you again because he thought you might have still harbored heavy feelings from that one phone call. Instead, you enthusiastically ran out the door and to your brother’s arms, eager to spend time with him after being far apart for his security as a hero student.

Good; you were ecstatic to see him as you were emotional the time he left for dormitory life. That meant he didn’t have to worry about your straying away from him anytime soon.

The both of you planned to finish a series in the duration of his time in the house. At one point, you said you were going to the restroom, but insisted he didn’t pause the episode for your sake. As you were out, his eyes scanned your room.

There was a thin stack of papers on the corner. Averting from the T.V., he took the papers and scanned them, soon coming to realize that they were your school works. All of which had barely passing grades.

When you returned, he ambled to you with an alarming look. He held out the papers to you. “What the fuck is this?”

You stammered, unpleasantly surprised. “W-what?”

“This!” He exclaimed, shoving them to you. “I don’t remember teaching you this shit. You did this all by yourself, huh? And you passed it without telling me?”

“W-well I-”

His pointer finger tapped harshly on your temple. “Why won’t you instill it into your goddamn brain?” He nearly growled. “Or is it that pea-sized you can’t even remember what I always tell you to do? You come to me when you find something difficult. You tell me when you don’t understand shit.” 

There were tears in your eyes now, but this time he ignored them. He was focused on engraining into you what you should always do. Depend on him. “I just wanna do things without you for once...”

“So you’re gonna risk your grades for the sake of being independent?” He scoffed. “I’ll say this if it keeps you grounded, (y/n). There’s something fucking wrong with your brain. You’ll never be able to make it without me.”

god was it so tempting to actually... incapacitate you. Perhaps then you’d keep your hands to yourself and never again attempt to do something as dumb as that. Your feet might be worth the sacrifice; he’d carry you everywhere, know your location because all you’d have to do was sit and look pretty. Or maybe your hands. He’d feed you, get things for you, write for you and therefore know all your thoughts that you input in that journal of yours. Not that he’d never known of its content.

But it was just an idea. It wasn’t like he planned to do it. No; that would be too cruel.

Now he micromanages you. He knew of your schedule, your meals, hours spent on your phone and contact list. Being barely a teen, you weren’t too aware of his apparent possessiveness over you; all you thought was that you were only suffering the consequences of your own actions. Your own attempts of being independent. 

Soon he was twenty when you were fifteen, still the loveliest thing he had ever encountered in his life - but not so lovely compared to when you were still submissive and knew no better. This time, you weren’t too timid to deviate against your brother’s wishes. His overprotectiveness you then thought was necessary and understandable was now irritating, superfluous, and a waste of both your time.

You were in your first year of high school and he was debuting as a rookie hero already rising in the ranks - still he was somehow able to find time to deal with you like you were some trite part of his routine. It irked you to the core. Who was he to micromanage your time like that? Did he really think you were incapable of fending for yourself that he just had to fit you into one of his chores? You felt insulted and, quite frankly, objectified.

And so you began deviating from his standards of you. Your curfew outside was 4:30PM but now you’d go home around 5. You weren’t allowed to touch your phone past 8:30PM but now you’d stay up until 11. He used to dictate your dress code, getting you dolled up in something way more conservative - so you’d wear [tank tops/spaghetti straps] just to piss him off. He wanted you to eat healthy? You spent your allowance on fast food for a week. Spend more time with him? You became busy in ‘group studies’ with your friends.

He’d let these not-so-little things slide at first, thinking that you were just in your phase of puberty. These come and go. But then he somehow knew that you had online friends and then your liberty was stripped off of you all of a sudden.

He had only ever wished to speak with you civilly about it, and you had hoped to return the same level of temperament, but then he proposed to confiscate your phone and from then on things got very heated.

What remaining good [boy/girl] exterior you had was forcibly ripped off your countenance as you yelled, voice cracking, “You never let me do the things I want! Leave me the fuck alone!”

His expression hardened upon hearing you cuss. “Don’t you fucking curse at me!”

“You’re a hypocrite!”

“And you’re a goddamn idiot! So fucking selfish!” He slammed his hand on the dining table, muscles from hero training prominent and terrifying. You flinched visibly. “So fucking selfish. Who are you to talk to me like that, ah? I’ve been watching you all my life I know what makes you happy, what makes you mad, what makes you cry! I made sure you were safe! Made sure you got your shit together with academics!”

“I never asked for that.” You replied, quivering.

“You never asked for that?” He reiterated, chuckling derisively. “I’m the reason you’re in UA’s general course right now. You wouldn’t have passed without me.”

You were so, so tired of arguing with your brother who’d done nothing but use insults for points in this argument. You were tearing up in frustration. “Why can’t you just let me be? What is wrong with you?”

“The reason why I’m like this,” he sneered, “is to accommodate with that tiny fucking rock in your skull you call a brain. You can barely survive on your own. god, no wonder mom gets mad at you a lot back then. Can’t use your brain for shit, fucking quirkless.”

It was like your world halted in motion. Regardless of anything, he never made an insult out of your lack of quirk. He knew it was a sensitive matter to you.

What made him stoop so low?

You glowered at him. “I hate you.”

“You might as well be dead without me.”

“Well I’d rather be dead than with you!” In the heat of the moment, you screeched. “My life would have been a lot better without you, anyway! I didn’t need some arrogant, egoistic bastard of a brother who gets off to micromanaging!”

You blinked and suddenly you were on the ground, white pressure on your cheek that you couldn’t distinguish until you looked at Katsuki’s outstretched hand and suddenly it was painful; you knew he slapped you so hard, and he knew what he’d just done. 

He dragged you by the hair before you could scream, and you were forced on your legs to follow him as he went up the stairs and to a door. You were shoved into his room, locked, bruising on the face. 

“Hey! What the hell?!” You shrieked, abruptly scrambling up and banging on the door. “Let me go!”

He didn’t answer. You heard footsteps getting farther and farther away, and then the shut of the front door echoed loudly across the house, which meant he went out for a breather.

You were hyperventilating. Vision blurry, breath heaving, head throbbing. There was something wet and warm trickling down the surface of your upper lip. Lifting your hand towards it, you came to realize that it wasn’t snot. You were bleeding from your nose.

You fell unconscious before you hit the ground.

===

There was something cold pressed against your cheek the moment you woke up, eyes squinted from the ceiling light above you. It felt soft and fabric-like, this something against your cheek, and then it was replaced with a hand so warm.

You looked to your side where Katsuki was, staring at you with a now collected countenance. You gasped, jolting from lying down on the bed and moving farther to the opposite of him.

“Hey, shh, it’s just me.” He consoled, voice completely mellow - quite the contrast to his usual self.

Your lips quivered, and tears surfaced on your bottom lids. The whimper on your throat came out when he made a move to join you on his bed (where you now rested) and shuffle near to your person. You shut your eyes when his hand - the dominant one that had hit you - came closer to you, only to hold your head and bring you onto him in an embrace.

You didn’t know what to do, when to move, so you just stilled in his hold, afraid and alert of every motion his body made.

He let go of you and looked at you in the eye. “Mom and dad are home.”

You struggled to remain the visual contact, blinking rapidly.

“When they ask you about your cheek, tell them that you got hit by a door, alright?”

Shitty excuse, but considering your tendencies, they’d most likely believe it.

When you took too long to answer, the hand behind your head squeezed tight. “Alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, alright.” You nodded urgently.

He may have not incapacitated you physically, but judging from your current disposition, Katsuki had a feeling that wouldn’t be needed. Not as long as you remain dependent and reliant on him.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #boku no hero academia x reader #bully bakugo #platonic yandere bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #platonic yandere katsuki bakugo #x reader #reader insert #platonic bnha #yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

I do not condone yandere tendencies in real life buttttttttt....................

I have bot mommy and daddy issues and i'm fucking touch deprived. I grew up having no friends and no one wants to cuddle or give me affection. Call me weird and anything but I find comfort through your fics. Trust me I love boundaries but the other side of me also likes the thought of people just always being there for me and just giving me affection in particular. I love how they all just always be there for me cause I literally grew up having no one. I know that it's so fucking weird and many people already call me that but I just like it🙂 or maybe my parents didn't just gave me much affection😀

[1.4K]

not weird at all to find comfort through fics. i think it’s a healthy coping mechanism too, reading fics for comfort instead of anything else that is far more deleterious.

also

yandere momo + shoto to satiate your mommy and daddy issues, really.

warning: coercion, nonconsensual ddl[g/b]

│

Even if you aren’t willing, they can and will reduce you into a sugar baby good for nothing but to serve as their own relief. They have the money and resource for that but not the time, especially if the timeline is established in UA, where all three of you are only students.

But I imagine they take it as a challenge to dilute you into submission, more so if you’re someone known for your hardheadedness and independence; you’re capable of fending for yourself and you very much prefer doing things on your own. It’ll start out small, their ploy, like assisting you with the littlest of things or accompanying you wherever you go. You’d notice this, of course, and you would brush it off as simple acts of service - something they do with others, too. But sometimes it tended to be annoying.

Both are delusional to a degree - they’re insistent with their belief that you’re really just some adult-wannabe child. Inside, all you want is affection and Tender Loving Care; you’re just too prideful to admit it. But even with being delusional, they’re both incredibly smart. It doesn’t matter if you have the same level of intelligence as them; you most likely have no match when they decide to pair up. And to your misfortune, they did.

Momo’s the more nourishing type. She acts so motherly and had it not been for the romantic and occasionally sexual gestures then you would’ve thought that she just wanted to be a mom or something. She loves to spoil you without expecting something in return - they both love to, but in her case it’s like an addiction at this point. She’s been pampered all her life, now she finds entertainment in pampering someone else.

She also tends to be the more infantilizing out of the two. It’s weird how her infantilizing actions are only exclusive to you; had she been treating everyone else like that then you would’ve let her slide.

“Oh, let me do that for you. You might spill on yourself.” Momo says upon spotting you pouring the hot water from the electric kettle onto your mug. Taking the appliance from you, she holds your wrist to pull your grasp from it, but you persist, eyeing her suspiciously.

“No, I’m good.” You reply.

“Oh no, of course not, let me-”

“Yaoyorozu, what’s the matter?”

She cringes inwardly. You’re still addressing her by her last name, she’d have to fix that up for you. “It’s YaoMomo.”

You ignore her correction and continue, “I don’t always need help, you know? But you treat me like some disabled person and it’s the fourth time of today that you’d given me unwarranted help. This isn’t even the fourth time out of all days.”

She laughs like you just said a joke. “Of course,” she places a hand on the small of your back, “I’m just making sure you don’t make a mess.”

You look at her incredulously.

“You must be exhausted from training a while ago,” she rearranges, “it must have affected your body mechanism and all, like how your limbs shake after a particularly strenuous exercise. You do experience that, don’t you?”

Fair enough. At least, it’s better to consider that than to suspect she’s been wanting to dumb you down so you’d have to worry about nothing but her satisfaction in your pretty little mind.

They continue to do all that, aiding you with things you’re more than capable of doing and allowing those backhanded derogatory statements to linger so that it’d be gradually instated in you that you couldn’t do shit without them, that you’re prone to messing up without their supervision.

But your independence is less of a trait and more of a personality. Instead of understanding that they’re all you ever need, you become entirely vexed, and begin avoiding them after they didn’t heed your request of leaving you the fuck alone. Seriously, what was their problem? You only intended to mind your own business and there they are minding it too.

Todoroki’s less of the nurturing and more of the strict type - but not quite like Endeavor because he takes note not to be like his father. He’s the strict that only chooses options which he believes are best for you, regardless of whether or not you agree to it. He dictates what you eat, whom you spend your time with (he just keeps you to himself or Momo, really) and even what you wear whenever you go out. If he gives you gifts you never ask for, spoils you like how Momo does, he sternly expects something in return. He’s also way into the sexuality that your daddy/mommy issues bring more than Momo. He’ll advance more brazenly like the concept of consent doesn’t exist to him. He’s a percentage more delusional than Momo is.

At one instance during work study, you caused yourself an injury in the stomach due to your own negligence. Todoroki so happened to be there as you pathetically crawled to safety amid all the debris and fallen concrete.

He yelled out your name, in an instant running over to you and kneeling, bringing your midriff over to his lap.

“It hurts, oh fuck it hurts, ah,” you keen, hunched across his thighs.

Of course, he’s worried shitless that you’re injured, but this is the closest he’s physically been with you, so he’s on cloud nine, saying, “Shh, don’t worry, daddy’s here.”

And then you freeze, confusion and disgust as one expression gradually making its way to your face. “Todoroki, what the hell?”

“...sorry, it just slipped-”

“Even so, that wasn’t-” you pause, narrowing your eyes, the pain of your gash not quite concerning you as his statement did, “wasn’t an accident, that word. I don’t understand why you’d address yourself as that to me.”

You wait for him to explain himself further to a point that you’d allow to let it slide, but he allows silence to ensue, so you take it upon yourself to get your body off of him.

But suddenly he weighs you back down and presses onto your searing wound.

“Todoroki- ah, ah! Stop! What are you doing?!” You try to get his hand off you in pitiful attempts.

He doesn’t let you prevail, only pushing down farther. “Yaoyorozu’s told me to tone it down, but I don’t think I can any longer, especially when you’ve been acting like a brat all the goddamn time.”

His voice has the same intimidation as Bakugo’s. The unnerving composure just adds to it.

“You think you’re so smart, huh? So independent that you refuse our help just because you can? It gets on my nerves, baby. You have no idea.”

You wheeze and squirm and try not to let the tears fall from your blown, glistening eyes. His hand still remains on your injury, and if he doesn’t let go anytime soon then you’re bound to faint from the excruciating feeling.

“Now, you call me daddy, or I’m going to make you regret not doing so.”

“No, no, no, stop this- what the fuck-”

An ice shard digs into your torn skin and you wail in pain.

“Daddy, daddy please- stop it- ah!”

“Tell daddy you’re sorry, baby.”

“I’m sorry, fuck, fuck! I’m sorry daddy! Please!”

He abruptly lets you go. “We’re gonna have to work on your vocabulary.”

He’s insane, you think as you heave and hiccup, face flushed and fatigued from having to endure your gut being poked in a vulnerable state. He’s cooing and caressing you like you’re some toddler just done from a tantrum, as if he isn’t the one who caused your crack-up in the first place.

You’re both barely eighteen and he coerces you into satiating his daddy kink. you don’t care if he had some fucked up backstory which resulted him into having that; it isn’t your position to deal with it. You aren’t even that close with him. If anything, you thought he would have confided better in Midoriya. 

Speaking of which, the green-haired hero appears in a while, spotting the both of you on the ground.

“Todoroki, (y/n)! What happened?!”

“They got stabbed by an iron bar when the building collapsed.” Todoroki informs, even having the audacity to click his tongue in faux rising panic and add, “It’s not good. They're losing so much blood.”

Izuku doesn’t have time to reply when the ice-fire quirk user brings you up with him in a bridal carry to get you out of the vicinity. You’re unconscious now, head lolling on his bicep as he jogs to a clearer area free of falling debris and cement dust. He’s excited to see how you are now that he’s practically forced you into submission, but for the mean time he’s got to tell Momo everything about your little bonding time with daddy.

#dont fuckin at me its my first time doing daddy/mommy kink #yandere todomomo x reader #momo yaoyorozu x reader #yandere shoto x reader #yandere momo yaoyorozu x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #yandere momo x reader #yandere shoto todoroki x reader #yandere bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere #yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

Omega, definitely omega (‘∀’●)♡

Do you have any idea how many people wrote (aged-up ofc) Izuku breeding fics it's almost it's own genre at this point.

Also, personally I can't read sub reader stuff. I know this blog isn't a dom reader blog but yeah, omega Izuku made me read one of the posts

¯\_(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)_/¯

[1.2K]

refer to this post for better understanding.

if breeding is a way for yandere aged-up characters to tie their darling down then it’s definitely scenting for the underaged characters.

│

Omega!Izuku’s omega genes become more apparent after receiving OFA, which therefore makes him appealing to a lot of alphas, but he doesn’t want any of them – he wants pretty little half-omega-half-alpha you.

I could very well picture him getting ideas with scenting you so others would get the hint that you were taken, the entire ordeal starting off when you had asked Izuku if he would be able to meet you in your dorm room for the continuation of your little study session with him. He had offered it in the first place, and you’d been struggling with Heroics, so you didn’t find a reason not to accept his invitation. In return, you’d review him with Foreign Languages - the subject he’d been having a hassle with.

He didn’t ask to postpone the study session when he realized his heat was nearing, didn’t take medication before going to your dorm, where you welcomed him with the casual smile he often found himself melting at. Upon entering, the lovely whiff of your scent hit him drastically. It was evident that you had tried your best to mask it because you knew you’d be inviting someone over, and allowing your scent to spread around while a visitor was present was kind of audacious. He didn’t mind it, though - in fact, he’d love if you didn’t hide it. Your room was comforting, finely ventilated, and safety-ensuring; he wouldn’t mind basking in your scent that lingered everywhere in the open space of your bedroom.

And then there was your bed - fresh sheets and carefully aligned pillows, not quite cozy in his opinion as an omega. It was so uncomfortably organized. That was why he decided to settle there and crumple the blanket instead of sitting with you on the ground by the quaint coffee table. He offered you his notes and you offered him yours, and at length, you both immersed yourselves in reviewing, occasionally asking each other the things you didn’t quite understand about the lesson. In a while of reading the notes you came to notice he was a bit antsy, and though he was trying his best to hide his discomfort, you figured it was best to voice it out before he’d explode into a flurry of anxiety.

“Something wrong?” You asked, seeing him visibly tense at your query.

“I am, uh,” He stammered, avoiding your gaze, “nearing my heat…”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. You wouldn’t shame him for it, as it was a natural occurrence, but with your being partly an alpha, this was kind of an awkward and risky circumstance. “Did- did you take your pills?”

“No, but it’s fine. I can handle it.”

You weren’t buying it. Now that you knew his cycle was nearing, he probably wanted to be in the relief of his own nest, so you took it upon yourself to decide for him. Perhaps he was just too shy to say it. “You can return to your dorm room, you know. I’m sorry for insisting having you to tutor me-“

“No!” He exclaimed, wide-eyed, startling you. “Don’t say that! I... I was really looking forward to tutoring you. I don’t mind at all, it’s just that we scheduled at the worst time. But don’t worry! I can really manage.”

You smiled bashfully at his admission; his heart missed a beat upon seeing you. “Get comfortable on my bed, then. I don’t mind you messing it up; think of it as gratitude for tutoring me even though you’re struggling.”

How could he refuse the offer? He got to lie on your bed, scent it all the while he was in heat, and you wouldn’t even complain since you were the one who offered to him in the first place.

That was how you ended up resuming your study session, with him all wrapped up in your blankets, rubbing his scent on your sheets deliberately. While you enjoyed his presence, he enjoyed taking huge whiffs of your scent, all the while marking your night territory like it was his own; like you both were bound to sleep together on it. No wonder your bed smelled like Izuku that night. Sure, it was entirely new to you, but it wasn’t like you hated it. Besides, who didn’t like the smell of pines and olives?

Well your class sure as hell did not like that smell on you.

They kept giving you glances the next day, discomfort evident in the way they looked at you. Izuku took an absence, as he failed to take his pills at his cycle of heat, that you knew. It wasn’t until Mina confronted you did you understand why they’d been looking at you like you had just committed a felony.

“Did you... did you really scent Midoriya?”

Oh, so that was why they were acting so strange and distant from you.

You weren’t about to blatantly confess that you let Izuku use your bed as a pseudo-nest. Laughing it off, you explained, “Oh, he just accidentally slept on my bed while we were studying together.”

“You let him sleep on your fucking bed?” Incredulously exclaimed Bakugo. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I-”

“Don’t you know how things could have escalated between you two?! For fuck’s sake, you’re no longer a beta!”

You fell into silence at that. It had been only a few weeks ever since you knew of your actual second gender. Believing you’d been a beta your whole life, you weren’t exactly taught the dos-and-don’ts of the alpha-omega dynamic. Being beta gave you a large advantage in your platonic relationships with others; you neither had to worry of touching them nor take note of schedules for heats or ruts. Didn’t have to avoid people or set boundaries for something nature had instated upon them.

“Things didn’t escalate between us.” You sternly explained. “I let him sleep on my bed because he was tutoring me and was tired. He never meant to get his scent all over me, and I never had the intention of taking advantage of him if that’s what you’re implying.” You looked at Bakugo with mild disgust. “I’m sorry for not knowing any better. I wasn’t exactly taught this stuff growing up.”

But Bakugo wasn’t mad at that. Not because you could have taken advantage of Izuku, but because he took advantage of you and your naivety. He must have done something to make you allow him to sleep in your bed, like gaslighting you, guilt tripping you with things just so he could scent you.

But who was to say they wouldn’t do the same?

Scenting you, that is. And with your lack of knowledge of being an alpha or omega, it was so much easier to make you let their actions slide, like Momo offering to take care of your blankets or Ochako accidentally mixing up both your garments during laundry day. Denki rubbing his cheek on your neck to scent you under the ruse of playful flirting or Kirishima inviting you to workout with him because his scent exuded more rampantly when sweating. Shoto or Bakugo getting extra touchy with you during sparring in hero training - warm hands brushing against your rear or icy fingertips keeping you pinned down by the neck.

And if you grew up with a lot of misconceptions caused by your classmates? That was alright; they didn’t have intentions on leaving you be, anyway.

#bnha abo #bnha x reader #abo #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #yandere #bnha omegaverse #omegaverse #abo dynamics #yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

[2.5K]

i had to write this amid my writer’s block, i hope this satiates you while i work on all your pending requests. short (this is a lie) drabble-turned-fic but yandere!Class1A except it’s ABO au. 

and the thing is that they weren’t even supposed to be lovesick fools from the start - not if only (y/n) remained a beta and only a beta. sure, nothing was wrong with being one, but you presented as neither of the three second genders. you were a defect.

│

You had showcased the nature of a beta, having had a normal childhood without feeling obliged to protect nor fight for things of your possession. At least, that was what you wanted to think. You always felt so alone, so detached from your second gender as a beta - like you were experiencing dysphoria from something that’s supposed to be of your instinctive nature. And sure, there were already cases of second gender dysphoria and how that could be rearranged with surgery and presenting yourself with the second gender you’d want to be, but you weren’t even sure which second gender you wanted to present as.

Not until amid your first year in hero course did signs of your actuality appear. You were in the common room with a few of your classmates, just chilling, doing nothing in particular. Momo and Jirou - alpha and beta - were seated on the dining table, chatting idly. Izuku’s friend group were on the sofa, along with you, who were seated on the farthest left of it, minding your own business with your phone. Bakugou’s squad except for himself had the other sofa occupied.

All of a sudden everyone seemed so bothered, terrorized by a smell entirely outlandish to them - while it had sparked each present alpha’s instinctive desire to rut, the omegas shifted in their seats, evidently uncomfortable. In no time they were able to distinguish that it had come from you, who still had their eyes set on their own device.

“(Y/n), could you go somewhere else?” Eventually, Shoto - alpha - asked, having had enough of your ‘obnoxiousness.’

You, however, were taken aback by the hostility of his request. “Why?”

“You reek of heat.”

“What?” You asked, confused, chuckling a bit. “Todoroki, I’m a beta.”

“Your smell clearly states otherwise.”

“I don’t go on heats. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Can you just go back to your dorm?” Mina asked, noticeably restraining a licentious growl in her throat. She was an alpha. “I’m sorry if this seemed rude, but Todoroki’s not lying. We can really tell you’re going to have a heat. Maybe- maybe you’ve mistaken it all along?”

“I... I see.” Now this had you in deep thought. Were you really mistaken? Perhaps you were just an omega and presented late? Honestly, this got you all disoriented. “T-thanks. Sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll go now.”

You went away to prevent further embarrassment, because by then all eyes were on you. As tension eased now that you were gone, Deku spoke,

“They don’t reek of heat. It’s a rut.” He was an omega, easily discomforted by alpha’s ruts.

“No?” Shoto responded in more of a questioned tone. “They’re an omega.”

Ochako - omega - intervened, “What are you talking about? They were having a rut.”

For necessary information: alphas satiate omegas’ heats, and omegas satiate alphas’ ruts. Omegas, akin to menstruation, have a three-day heat cycle per month, in which the only way to get rid of it was either to wait it out, take some pills the day before, or have some alpha take care of them. In the presence of an omega in heat, alphas could get thrown into a rut, which was why your situation back then was a risky one - not that you knew. Good thing Shoto was mindful enough to inform you.

The argument of your being an alpha or omega eventually subsided, and though it was already in the back of their minds, it nevertheless was in their minds, resurfacing at times they didn’t have anything else to think about. They knew you were a beta, only a beta, because you had no distinctive smell the first time you met each other.

The next day, you didn’t show up to class, and your classmates who were present during your little ‘dilemma’ in the common room had this concerning urge to check on you. Which was surprising, really. Why would they suddenly feel that way? It wasn’t like they were your mate, right?

But why was Shoto so overwhelmingly sour with the fact that Momo was your partner in next hero training? Why was Jirou out of nowhere thinking of making you a playlist in the name of... well, love? Why did that playlist comprise of girl in red songs? Ochako thought of you during lunch, wondered if you had already eaten your lunch, then made herself nearly cry with the thought if you hadn’t because you were probably sick, that was why you were absent. Izuku suddenly found himself reserving three extra pages in his notebook for information of you... your quirk, of course. He may or may not add additional unnecessary notes about you.

Iida notified your homeroom teacher of your failure to tell him an excuse as to why you were absent, and so Aizawa took it upon himself to check on you that lunch, taking a walk back to dorms since it only took five minutes. 

“(L/n)?” He asked, knocking on your dorm room. The surface of the door exuded heat; the literal one. He received no response.

“(L/n), are you there?” Now, he had his eyes narrowed in concern, master key in hand just in case. He heard a thump from the other side, like your body fell from bed. Good, you were somewhere there.

After a period of nothing but occasional shuffling and steps to the door, you responded, “Aizawa... sensei?” 

Your hoarse voice, though muffled due to the barrier between you two, was clearly in pain. You sounded like a needy omega.

“What’s going on in there?”

“I don’t- hah, don’t know...” But you suppressed an alpha-like growl. What was happening?

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You felt the dire need to breed, but at the same time, you wanted to get bred - what? Did that make sense? It didn’t even matter to you, not when you were so desperate to reach a climax you knew you couldn’t achieve with your own. Will you be like this for the next two days? Holy shit, it felt like hell.

According to his alpha self, though, you were in heat. “Did you forget to take your pills?”

“Why... why would I take pills?” You heaved. “I’m- I’m a beta.”

Right - he did remember the first days of school, when you had made it clear that you were a beta. But things were different now. 

He was quick to inform your guardian of your current predicament, saying that you were experiencing the heat of an omega - which disoriented them to no end, because as far as they knew in the sixteen years of knowing you, you were a beta. They took a leave from work to tend to you, and upon meeting with Aizawa who was waiting for them in front of U.A. dorms, he led them to your room.

Your mind was in an aching trance when you saw the door to your room open. You did, however, comprehend your guardian who lifted you up after wrapping your thick duvet around your form to prevent the rampant spreading of your scent. Family members up to third-degree relatives weren’t affected by an individual’s rut or heat, thankfully. You were then situated on the back of a car, with your guardian consoling you, telling you to be patient, while you were crying and growling about how much something hurt, how it ached. You didn’t voice out how you wanted to inhale a scent of an omega, and at the same time receive an alpha’s rut.

Thank fuck you were conscious enough to stop yourself from asking your alpha teacher to breed you. That would have been so fucking awkward.

You heard small wheels rolling and occasional professional-sounding talk, like you were in a hospital. Wait, were you? From your vision, it was all white, and there were dull teal-colored people who were pushing the thing you were laying on - a bed. Apparently your rut... or heat was detrimental enough to send you to the emergency room. Funny, you thought, but then again you were a beta suffering a heat or rut or whatever this was. Odd.

You were drugged with the special kind of anesthesia - the ones that made you numb against the aching feels of a heat, the only adverse effect was that you were passed out and incomprehensible. Hours thereafter, once awake and not under the effects of medicine, it was explained to you that you would be placed under quarantine for the next two days that you were under this... cycle. The professionals told you that this cycle would last you three days per month, like omegas, but the thing was that you didn’t have pills to depend on, because they were yet to be invented due to the extreme rareness of your condition, so you’d have to wait it out until you’d actually find a mate, which you had the deliverance to choose whether you preferred an alpha or omega. Your cycle would be five times worse than ruts or heats, too - that was why you were sent to the emergency room. You’d get used to it eventually, at least used to it enough not to be sent to the emergency room.

You were not a beta, they said, you were a special case of second intergender. It was extremely rare, apparently. While alphas would view you as an omega, omegas would view you as an alpha. Betas would experience a strange attraction towards your scent, too. Basically, you were a beta, but breedable for alphas, and capable of breeding omegas.

The next few days in the hospital, you experienced one of the worst instances of second gender dysphoria, and it didn’t help that this heat-rut was still something you had to endure, the only thing stopping you from demanding an alpha or omega to relieve your stress were the huge doses of anesthesia you seemed to have gotten yourself addicted with. The doctors suggested that you could lock the door of your hospital room and relieve yourself, but like hell were you masturbating in a hospital.

Your classmates had it no better than you, too, because in the days you weren’t present, they fell into a small pit of mate depression - in which an individual becomes miserable due to the lack of their mate’s presence. Aizawa thought it was strange, though, how a handful of the class suddenly coincidentally experienced it at the same time - like they all had the same mate. He tried to ignore the fact that it could have been you, because that was impossible, wasn’t it?

Then why were their tendencies explaining otherwise? On your third day of absence, Kirishima resorted to breaking in your room and burying himself in the heap of your clothes, never minding the fact that Mina was already there, selecting garments to stuff her face with. Denki loved to make a pillowcase out of your shirt. Izuku and Ochako already spent a night on your bed, and Shoto began the habit of using your writing materials instead of his own. They were making a common room out of your bedroom.

When you returned to dorms, they were all so elated, surrounding you like you were some lost pup returning to the pack. You guessed that in a way, your class was your pack, but humanity had evolved, no longer referring to each other’s cliques as ‘packs.’ They only eased down when Sato proposed the idea of celebrating your return (an excuse for him to bake, but you weren’t complaining).

“What’s up with them?” You asked humorously when they dispersed to plan out the celebration, directing your question to the person next to you, who just so happened to be Bakugou.

But he had paid little attention to what you had asked, rather taking in the... oddly addictive smell you produced. It was a bit more rampant than usual, partly because you were still getting used to masking it, and majorly due to the lingering anesthetics tampering with your hormones. He knew you always had the scent of [preferred scent], but somehow, only now did he realize how compulsive it could be. You smelled of mild antiseptics after your interval in the hospital, and he so badly wanted to scrub you off of that smell to take a full whiff of what you actually reek.

Now he knew why a lot of his friends were spending so much time in your dorm room.

“So,” he said, not answering your previous statement, “you’re an omega?”

He saw you visibly still at his question. 

You laughed nervously, “Well, about that- I’m a defect.”

“Defect?” He reiterated.

“Yeah. It means-”

“Go change into something more comfortable, (y/n)!” Mina surprised you from behind, draping an arm on your shoulders. Her mouth barely hovered over your scent gland. “Actually, before that, take a shower. You smell like medicine.”

“Wanna mark me so bad, Mina?” You joked, and holy shit were you so oblivious to the fact that she actually wanted to do that. You left her to imagine the possibility, walking directly to your room. You’d answer Bakugou’s question later.

You closet smelled a sundry of different scents. One of your clothing reeked of mint and fireplace, bringing a cold sensation to your nasal cavity whenever you’d sniff it. The other smelled like pines, forest, mild petrichor and olives. Your jacket? It smelled like strawberry mochi, and your cycling shorts smelled like rich fucking perfume.

You had a vague suspicion to those who were behind this felony, because you were well aware to whom these scents belong, but you weren’t about to entertain the idea that your classmates wanted to mate you or get you to mate them. Impossible, lol, you thought. Your classmates weren’t freaks. They wouldn’t think of that.

So you ignore the times when some of the omegas in your class would bend against the seat in front of your desk, nearly exposing their behinds, like they were presenting. The girls - what the hell - were they not wearing undershorts? You had to avert your eyes elsewhere to save your modesty from the debauched view before you. You pretend you don’t mind whenever the alphas of your class would pull you away from potential harm during hero training, robbing you off your opportunity to demonstrate a power move of your quirk. It was annoying, and every time you attempted to politely tell them off, they ignored it, giving the excuse that they were simply acting in accordance to their nature. Like hell were you buying that shitty reasoning; they knew very well not to let A/B/O dynamics interfere during hero training.

They already fell in too deep with their obsession with you, though, and now aside from hero training, their other principal goal was to have you as their mate.

#bnha abo #bnha x reader #abo #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #yandere #yanderechuu #bnha omegaverse #omegaverse

[yanderechuu]

Shouto and Iida want to spoil the reader rotten but the reader Wants nothing to do with them , especially if she has to own them back for the gifts ! But when you try and get help but your class mates are under a illusion that they are helping you. 

also in accordance to this request:

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader feat. Todoroki Shoto, Iida Tenya

[1.4K]

Summary: Shoto and Iida take their dues after giving you gifts you’ve never even asked for.

Warning: nonconsensual touching, sexual assault

│

“W-what are these for?” You questioned, standing beside the study desk in your room as you eyed the set of paper bags dropped on the floor by two of your wealthy classmates.

Iida and Shoto, who unceremoniously welcomed themselves inside your dorm as you studied for a long quiz anticipated the next day. You swore you had locked the door, but you doubted your memory, so perhaps they got in due to your stupidity. It wasn’t like they actually had a carbon copy of your key, right? Momo definitely did not duplicate it using her quirk and offer it to them as an act of camaraderie.

That did not justify why they did not bother to knock, though.

“They’re for you.” Iida explained, executing his signature gesticulation with his hands. “You’ve been dealing with academics the past week, so we supposed this could alleviate your stress.”

“That’s... that’s really sweet of you two, but really, you didn’t have to-”

“Nonsense. This isn’t against our will, anyway." 

You didn’t have to buy me shit I don’t even need. Like last time, Shoto bought you a designer messenger bag after taking note of your current one scarcely even marring on the strap. When you showed up without it the next day, he disappointedly asked you why, and you gave him the excuse that you didn’t want such an expensive object spoiled from quotidian use. That was partly a reason, but truthfully speaking you just did not want your old bag to run out of utility. He didn’t get the gist, anyway, opting to buy you another bag less expensive but you were willing to bet it costed more than your weekly allowance.

“It’s ¥5,000 less than the one I first bought you.” He had said stoically, scaring you when you had contemplated about asking him the price.

Iida was no different, either, when he gave you an exorbitant pen for you to use in note-taking, and it was so, so difficult to refuse the gift because it was the pen you had been eyeing online for a little while already. The sky-high price ranged from ¥10,000 to ¥15,000, and although you were aware that this item was only a matter of want, not need, you couldn’t help but cut a little bit from your allowance to save up for it. Nevertheless that was proven useless, because Iida had you an excited (albeit bashful) mess when he said he had bought it for you. Even if you didn’t want the gifts, it wasn’t like you had the choice to reject, because that would lead them to guilt tripping you into receiving them, declaring they had put so much time and effort into getting it for you.

But neither of them complained about the lavish cash spent on it.

And that had recently been a friendly competition between the both of them - to sweep you off your feet with extravagantly unnecessary presents. You appreciated it at first, when they once only gave you writing materials of your aesthetics and little, miscellaneous trinkets that reminded them of you, or that would remind you of them. Now, they spent up to numbers that reached five digits, and in the weekends you would walk around Musutafu in upscale outfits of brands which names you fear you might mispronounce, often being conceived as a model. Sometimes, you’d be mistaken for a sugar baby and therefore given dirty looks from conservative elderlies, when really, you just had two overbearing classmates who wouldn’t stop spoiling you rotten.

You feared that one day, like a sugar daddy, Iida and Shoto would expect something in return from you.

“Don’t you think this is too much?” You asked, diffidently rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “O-oh no, this really is. It’s probably better if you’d- you’d stop.”

Shoto lightly tilted his head. “Don’t you love them?”

“I do, but I don’t know how to repay you back.”

Big mistake on your part. You shouldn’t have said that.

They shared a look, one you didn’t like. You pursed your lips in anxiety when Shoto began to walk across the room, but instead of going towards you like you had expected, he sauntered to your bed and sat on the (f/c)-donned mattress. 

“(Y/n), come here.”

Amid confusion, your naïve self followed his command, and upon halting on Shoto’s knees, you gasped when he pulled you abruptly towards him, by force situating your rear on top of his lap.

“T-Todoroki!” You exclaimed.

He only placed his hands on your hips, tightening his grip when you made an attempt to pull them off. “You could pay up with this, don’t worry.”

You watched as Iida came forward to the both of you seated on the bed, taking his phone out from his pocket and kneeling. Shoto proceeded to give his phone to Iida. Your eyes contracted in horror.

And then you started struggling your way out of his grasp, doing best to ignore the way his quirk activated slightly for you to take it as a warning - you took it as a threat. It was when Iida lifted your uniform skirt up did you voice out your panic, and much to your despair and their delight, you were only wearing panties.

“No, nonono, no, please-”

Your male class representative placed a palm on your black tights-clad thigh, the edge of it dragging across the surface of (s/c) skin when he pried your legs apart. “Stay still.”

“No!” You yelled, closing your thighs back, enclasping Iida’s hand between them. “Y-you don’t have to do this. Take back your gifts, I don’t care, just leave me alone-”

Your breath hitched when his grasp on your thigh squeezed to bruise. “You don’t care? Don’t you know how much thought we put to them?”

Tears accumulated in your bottom lids upon coming to the realization that you didn’t really have a way out of this, not unless you grow a pair and be willing to fight them off, bold enough to use your quirk outside of hero training period or internship to defend yourself from these two. But unfortunately you weren’t, and you were stopped by the fear that they might do something worse if you go against them.

Shoto pecked your cheek, then your jaw, the trail down to the base of your neck burning horribly with each riveting kiss. “One photo for ¥10,000, hm? Come on, it’s not too many.”

The sound of snapping camera fended your thoughts from wondering the amount of cash they spent on you. You could scarcely see Iida’s beguiled expression as he took pictures of your intimate part clad only in red fabric - a color that exuded sexual allure. You sobbed, devastatingly allowing Shoto to unbutton your uniform blazer, and when you retaliated by weakly holding his fingers, he tutted and locked your hands with his. Because you often wore your blazer, you hadn’t bothered wearing (s/c)-colored brassiere to camouflage on your white school button-up, so without blazer it was very prominent, revealing a red piece to match with your underwear - Iida took pictures of all your endowments.

You just wanted their hands off you, away from your hips, your thighs, your skin. You wanted their eyes off your crying face, tears staining your reddened cheeks excessively - please, don’t look at me, don’t look at my body, don’t look at my panties-!

Closing your eyes in distress, you let your head lean against Shoto’s shoulder. “No... this is- this is wrong-”

“Using your quirk on Yaoyorozu is wrong.” He whispered against your ear. “Did you think of that?”

Using your quirk on Momo was wrong under circumstances that she was innocent. But she was not, touching you when you had said not to, touching you in restricted places just as Iida and Shoto were doing at the moment. Wait, were they doing this to avenge Momo?

You sniffed, “I-I won’t do it again... p-please,”

A quick keen of pleasure (guiltily enough) emitted out your throat when you felt a soft sensation on the inner part of your thigh - Iida’s lips. He kissed you on the part of your ongoingly healing wound, which you had obtained from interning under [preferred pro-hero].

“You should change internships.” Iida said, which, in your ears, sounded more of a demand.

What you thought had lasted for gruesome hours realistically was just a few minutes, and when Iida was done with taking pictures, when they were done assaulting you traumatically, Shoto gently settled you on your bed, and you quickly snatched a pillow to hug and bury your face onto, because you didn’t think you could bear to look at them any longer. Your loud sobs were muted finely by the cushion as they left, and you were thankful that they didn’t have the audacity to comfort you after what they had done.

At least they didn’t picture you without your panties.

#bnha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere todoroki #yandere iida #yandere iida tenya #iida x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #iida tenya x reader #yanderechuu

[yanderechuu]

Shower Thoughts

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[3.2K]

Summary: Momo wasn’t as trustable as you had presumed.

Warning: Larceny, nonconsensual touching, masturbation

│

You used to spend roughly ten minutes in the shower, only ever needing to soak your body in the water, apply shampoo and body wash before rinsing all the foam of products from your skin and scalp. Shower thoughts simply consisted of the day’s agenda or any special occurrence that had happened the past week, never really drifting off to existential questions and dark notions that would keep you from leaving the bathroom later than usual. You neither necessarily liked taking a shower nor did you dread it, as to you it was only ever a mandatory routine of the day which you handled with a neutral mind.

But now, ten minutes were already a slow thirty, and majority of the time you bothered not to move your arms to make work of your hair, or lather your skin with soap as you normally would do had it not been for the questions plaguing your mind like how your classmates would terrorize your time and space.

Right, your classmates - who would spend every hour of the day with you as if they didn’t have anything better to do. As if you were an important subject of matter next to hero training. You never appreciated it, because from the start, you did not want to have anything do to with them. They smothered and coddled you as if air wasn’t that important to you, disregarding the way you felt about personal space, how it was very significant to you. Rare were the moments of peace as a few of them were always by your side, ‘ensuring your safety’ as they would like to quote it. Why ensure your safety? You had not been a prominent figure in the sports festival, neither did you have a quirk that could be of great utility for the villains unlike Bakugou or Tokoyami. You weren’t a problem child, either. Their justification of following you around like you were some sort of high-maintenance prisoner made no sturdy sense to you.

“There’s this new package of green tea my mother had sent me this week! Would you like to try it, (y/n)?”

“Sure.”

But if you had to choose among your classmates one whom you would tolerate for the following years you’d be in U.A., that would be Yaoyorozu Momo. She was kind and considerate, often determining your feelings before you could voice it out (not that you really had the courage to, most of the time). She was organized and pristine and never had you met someone more befitting for the definition of ‘mom friend’ than her. She was perfect in nearly every way, and even though you’d have the occasional pang of jealousy at some times her perfectionism was displayed (gender envy, isn’t it, (y/n)?), she never seemed to bear mal intent, so you would let the emotions slide. You’d see the galaxy in her eyes if you would stare long enough. Her tea was best substitute for coffee, too.

You never considered her more than a very great friend, though, and to her, that was a problem.

As you sauntered your way over to your dorm with her, you shuffled your bag to take your room key buried in the side pockets. “I’ll go down in a while, but you better make sure you’re in the common room before me.”

You wouldn’t allow your classmates to take advantage of your lone self simply because Momo wasn’t there to fend them off.

“Mhm! Lemon green tea as usual, correct?”

“Yeah. Thanks again, YaoMomo.”

Your use of sotto voce tone on her nickname gave a pleasant shiver down her spine; her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head had she not restrained herself. Having been always kept to yourself, you never felt the need to adjust your volume for others to hear properly, so oftentimes your voice came out in a whisper - not that she minded, of course. You sounded more sensual that way.

“Are you going to take a while or will I have to brew tea right away?”

“Training was more strenuous than usual, and my muscles can’t seem to relax,” you explained, “so I’m going to take a quick shower.”

From your peripheral vision as you were focused on your bag to fish out the key, you saw Momo’s jaw slack upon hearing your plan to take a bath. It was odd, but you didn’t give particular attention to it when you finally took out your desired item. You failed to notice the way she abruptly settled her gaze on the key, inspecting it as if she was deliberating its shape, form, and material, and installing it to memory.

“Oh- oh!” She exclaimed. “I do remember having some body wash that help soothe muscle strains and body aches. I can hand them to you if you want.”

You shook your head, smiling lightly. “You’re too kind, YaoMomo. But I think just hot water will do for me.”

She watched as you opened the door to your room, giving her one more smile before disappearing inside and locking the door with a distinct click. As soon as you did so, she pulled the sleeve of her wrist up, developing with her body lipids a key the exact copy of the one you had held.

You certainly lied when you had said you were going to take a ‘quick’ shower. Already ten minutes into it did you only decide to sleek yourself with liquid body soap, initially absentmindedly rubbing it on your body, before you gradually got rougher with your movements and soon you found yourself scuffing your own flesh with vehement motion.

They were excessively touchy again, your classmates. Denki got too close to your face while delivering a pick-up line that made you wish you didn’t exist in order to hear it, and upon nearing you did Bakugou pull you away from him, cursing at him to buzz off. He took his time feeling up your waist - the part he used to grab you - while at it. During lunch, as you were once again coerced into joining his group to the cafeteria, Izuku refused to let go of your hand as you walked, and Uraraka as adamant with hugging you by the hips with one arm. It was what girlfriends did, she said, and you were not entirely sure whether or not she referred to that word romantically.

And if not, then did girlfriends also normally touch the parts of which you did not want to be touched on? You felt, clear as day, a bare hand resting on your thigh when you sat on your usual spot, dangerously close to lifting your skirt for everyone to see, and when you gave Hagakure’s faceless face a questioning look, she asked you what was wrong. Her uniform sleeve was literally floating on top of your lap, and still she had the gall to pretend as if she was not touching you with lacking consent. 

 You were not safe from Shoto, either, when he offered to readjust your uniform tie and you were in no place to decline (you had the right to, but they just stripped you off of it), his breath hitching in ecstasy as his fingers brushed your chest; he was, audaciously enough, not hiding his bliss. Then he rubbed your shoulders to ‘warm you up,’ when all he really intended to do was motivate his own fantasy that you were his and he was simply scenting you like some fucking alpha to his omega.

You turned no blind eye to their gesticulations. You never once found it endearing, and wished they would stop with whatever the hell this was called, because you were quite sure this was past the border of molestation and could already be rendered a form of bullying.

But not once did you consider the possibility of having a class obsessed with your quaint self.

So you supposed that until you’d find a way to deduce their idiosyncratic actions and tendencies then you would have to make do with your own bathroom as your safe space. Momo was the only classmate you could confide to, so at least she was there.

Unfortunately, you had yet to see the other side of her coin.

Because as she was just right outside your bathroom door, obsessively taking in every bit of item you owned inside your dorm room like a madman, you were left with the impression that she was all you could ever ask for in a friend. You didn’t know how she was not any better than the rest of your classmates, adoring your very existence to the extent of insanity; how she’d crave for you so often and so terribly that she’d feel herself clench when you do so much as merely spare her a glance. And you had done that a lot today - she would have to relieve herself for it.

She spotted the heap of clothes right by your bed; it became apparent that you had stripped yourself off of it before entering the bathroom and taking a shower. Walking towards it, a portion of your seamless underwear came to view, and she resisted the urge to render into a mound of horniness in order to pick it up and inspect it closely.

It was a lighter color of (s/c). A plain, simple, modest undergarment item, still it evoked a particular feeling on the bottom center of Momo’s hips. The heat came rushing along her midriff and instigated the muscle of her legs to falter, and as soon as she felt it, a hand of hers drifted past her skirt, feeling up the slick accumulated on the fabric of her own panties only with the knowledge that your panties were currently in her possession. She needed release, but you were nearly finished with your bath, and she was still inside your room.

You walked out of the shower the moment she shut the door of your bedroom. You saw it closed, but you didn’t catch the culprit.

This unnerved you to no end. Undoubtedly, you thought, this had to be one of your classmates. Who else was it supposed to be? Aizawa-sensei (...)? You had yet to know their ultimatum, but you were sure this occurrence was another one of their schemes. You had assumed that all their weird, unappreciated antics were just to get you to socialize with them, but now you didn’t understand why it had gotten to the point of entering your room without permission.

You couldn’t keep this to yourself.

So you planned to bring it up to Momo, a representative of your class and someone whom you deemed trustable enough to share it with. Quickly, you dressed into your casual indoor attire, and rushed outside your room to head to the kitchen, where you presumed she’d be in the process of making your tea. But she wasn’t there.

Instead, she was in her own room, your panties muzzled right into her face and her own fingers buried deeply inside her cunt.

“Oh- oh, god- Ah! (Y/n)!”

Oh god, your panties. Oh god, your panties. The object most intimate to your parts of intimacy, soaking every bit of womanly secretion from your genitalia. Of all the masturbation sessions she had done to the thought of you, this was the hottest. She wasn’t quite sure whether to imagine your cunt on her lips in a position of mutual cunnilingus or your fingers thrusting into her in place of hers. She wanted both.

A whine slipped past her lips. To think that moments ago, she was in the same space as you were nude. Oh, to join you in the bathroom, doing inenarrable things to each other with the use of the showerhead. To touch your skin selfishly rather than only watch as she would do during class hours.

She came with a squeal, falling face-down to bite the duvet of her large bed. Gone in her hazy mind was her promise to you of lemon green tea, and as she still basked in the pathological euphoria of getting off, you were in the common room, anxiously waiting for her return.

But just as you had expected, someone was bound to spot you alone and take this as an opportunity to be with you, and they just so happened to be-

Oh. Aoyama.

He offered you a slice of cheese with his usual grin before settling down a few feet beside you, enough to leave you be in your personal bubble. You gave him occasional glances, unwrapping the cheese from its casing and he just sat there, eating his. He was alright, you guessed - another tolerable classmate of yours next to Momo. Perhaps it was because you used to always be alone in the classroom with him during break time that you were at ease with his presence. Or maybe he just seemed so gay and that, for some reason, comforted you. One gay presence could comfort another lol.

“It’s delicious.” Your comment came out inadvertently.

“Oui. Only the best quality for the best person.” He flaunted.

You weren’t exactly sure whether he was referring to you or to himself, but you paid little attention to that as the cheese was certainly delicious; you were not lying.

“It’s odd how your chose to take a bath at this time of the day.” He spoke.

You stopped chewing.

He meant to refer to your damp hair, but having just suspected your class of breaking and entering your room, you thought otherwise.

“I-” You choked on the cheese, ending up needing to gulp it like liquid content instead of breaking it down to fit your throat. 

Immediately, he sprang up in concern, stepping over to you to gently thump you on the back. “Are you alright?”

“No- I mean- I just-!” You wheezed, occasionally having to clear your throat. You swatted his hand away from you; you hadn’t meant to appear rude, but you did. You stood up in a rush. “L-look, I have to go.”

“Don’t you want to drink water?”

“I’m- fine,”

With your words, you took off from the common room area and headed back to your room. There were two sets of emotions that mixed to form the bile in your throat. One was wrath and humiliation upon the discovery of Aoyama’s actions. The other was betrayal and confusion from Momo’s absence when she had said she’d be brewing tea for you, and it wasn’t the tea that disheartened you. She knew of your issue with the class, and if she were busy, couldn’t she have texted you a heads-up?

She shouldn’t be surprised when at the next time she saw you, you interacted with her less. Your intention to distance yourself from her was most prominent, and it didn’t help that your classmates took notice of this, because now they were taking advantage of the situation, tagging you along with them in spite of your futile attempts to decline now that Momo was nowhere to tell them off. When she’d talk to you, you would answer, though your voice was back to speaking to her like she was a stranger. 

Resentment was stronger than ruing the lack of intimacy between you two. It was as if she had received your panties in exchange for the time she’d be spending with you, oddly enough. After much deliberation, she came to realize that this was your little ‘tantrum’ after not being able to meet with her the other day. 

It was pretty cute, she thought, that you’d try and make her acknowledge the fault on her part by ignoring her.

You didn’t walk with her back to dorms as per usual that dismissal. Instead, just like what you had used to do before finding consolation in her, you walked alone, accomplishing being able to avoid your classmates as you did. By the time she reached the dorms, you were in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water to satiate your throat. She took a hold of your wrist before you went back to your room.

“(Y/n),” she pleaded, “tell me what’s wrong.”

You looked at her with a reluctant expression. Perhaps you should. After the short while that you had been hanging out with her, her presence turned into something you came to miss. You wanted her back, but not in the way she wanted you.

“I-it’s just,” you stammered out, “y-you know how I feel being alone in the common room without you. I... I’m not comfortable with our classmates when you’re not around.” She took pride in this. “I don’t take it lightly how you left me alone the other day...”

Your voice faltered out the longer you spoke.

So she was correct; you were certainly having your little ‘tantrum.’ With a guilty smile, she left your wrist to hold your hand tenderly, and suddenly it dawned upon you the feeling of whenever Bakugou held your waist, Shoto nuzzled his face on your neck or Izuku invaded your personal space.

Fear and apprehension.

Before you could preach your objection to whatever she had planned ahead for you, she dragged you along with her and you both reached her dorm room before you could comprehend where she was taking you. 

“I’ll make it up to you.” She said, making you sit on her large bed.

Then she proceeded to make you tea, boiling water with an electric kettle situated on top of her study desk; there also laid a tea set next to her three books, which you assumed were those of which would aid her in the utility of her quirk, like encyclopedias. Beside those was a piece of cloth, unfolded, unkept - a (s/c)-colored silk fabric.

Your face drained of color.

She pushed the books towards the cloth, completely obscuring it from your view and leaving the table disorganized. You knew Momo, neat and orderly as much as possible; she wouldn’t do that without reason.

Now that you thought about it, the same day someone had barged in your room, your underwear had been missing from your set of laundry garments. You spent the next whole day actively avoiding Aoyama, thinking he was the culprit to this felony. At the present moment you were reconsidering your allegation.

“U-um, Momo, I need to go-”

“Here!”

She yelled it so giddily, so uncharacteristically, as she pushed the cup of tea towards your way. How she did so was very quick that you had not the time to take it properly, and steaming liquid fell to your décolletage, past the cotton of your uniform and streaming down the valley of your breasts. It was a moist mess. She loved every bit of it.

“Oh! Oh, my bad. I’ll- I’ll clean you up!” She exclaimed, all flushed and excited.

You didn’t find it in you to push her back when she began to do exactly what she had said, taking your blazer off, loosening your school tie and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath, only ever being able to stare at her with eyes that evinced betrayal, because it slowly occurred to you that she was satiating her own selfish obsession with you all under the ruse of maintaining a decent friendship. 

“(Y/n),” She breathed out, “I adore you.”

She was no different than the rest of your classmates, and you were a fool to think otherwise.

#bnha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #momo yaoyorozu x reader #momo x reader #momo x y/n #yandere #yandere momo yaoyorozu #yandere momo #yanderechuu