He Wants To Say Hi

Just eepy teens about to go to war! 👍

Silly alternative ⬇️

IN A RUT

KEIGO TAKAMI + FEMALE READER

WARNINGS: DUBCON/NONCON, FORCED BREEDING, FORCED PREGNANCY, CLIT SLAPPING, PROFANITY, CREAMPIE, RUT, MISOGYNY, BABY TRAPPING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

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

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

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

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keigo, no!”

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

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

Rigged [DEAL WITH THE DEVIL COLLAB]

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, attempted murder, DUBCON, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of breeding, manipulation, swearing, Tsukishima being kind of a jerk

Special: This is for the Deal With The Devil collab with one of my favorite authors on tumblr: @seijorhi and a bunch of other awesome tumblr authors!

Notes: I’ve never written this far into NSFW before, so I hope this turns out okay! O_O I hope you guys enjoy eek! It turned out a LOT longer than I expected, too.

Summary: You didn’t want to go to him for help but you had no other choice. It’s just too bad his game was rigged from the start.

rig

/verb/

manage or conduct (something) fraudulently so as to produce a result or situation that is advantageous to a particular person.

“I’m heading out, Dad!” The wane smile that forced its way onto your face stretched your cheeks and chapped lips in a way that hurt almost as much as the insincerity behind it. Your father saw right through your facade, of course, but there was no way he could guess how much more difficult it was to produce today than any of the previous days.

Walking out of that rundown shabby shack, your bare feet leaving imprints in the dusty soil under you… as unfortunate as this turn of events was, you knew that you couldn’t go on this way. Not for your sake, but your family’s. Your father’s.

The obsidian-black vehicle silently waiting for you looked anything but welcoming. Your once-confident footsteps faltered as your legs began to tremble. “You can do this” became “you have no other choice”. And, God, the knowledge that your choices were gone sent endless blows to your heart.

You had never been so thankful for silence as you were on the ride to your doom. No awkward chitchat or pleasantries were exchanged between the driver and yourself. It was much better that way. Talking meant thinking and thinking meant dwelling on the reason you would be talking to the chauffeur in the first place.

The walk through the mansion was just as silent as the ride there, but a part of you was less comforted by the quiet this time. Now, you wanted nothing more than to distract yourself from your surroundings.

So big, so beautiful, and so horrible. It reminded you so much of your old home- one that you could never step foot in again. Reduced to rubble beyond repair.

How ironic that a once-successful architect lost his house (and fortune) to a small storm. Your father’s work opportunities reduced to rubble as well.

Truly beyond repair.

You were standing in front of him much too quickly for your liking.

“My, my, my, (Y/n), I thought you were done with this sort of work. What brings you to me with such a sudden, desperate request for employment?”

You bit your tongue so viciously that the coppery taste of blood seeped into your wounded taste buds, “My family isn’t doing too well financially, so I thought it would be best to get a job… Tsukishima.”

Bile rose in your throat with the choked force you used to utter his name. He truly made you sick.

“‘Not doing too well financially’,” the tall man mocked your words, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips, “I’d say that’s quite the understatement. I’ve heard that every company within 200 miles has turned him down. Probably because he’s too incompetent to build his own house correctly.”

You wanted to defend your father. You wanted to scream at the disgustingly smug man before you. You wanted to ask why the fuck he chose your family to target for his sadistic amusement.

But you couldn’t.

Not if you wanted to put food on your family’s table for your mother, father, little brothers, and you to survive another day.

“No one in town will hire me, as I’m sure you’re well aware. You said you had a job for me and you’re the only one who will hire me.”

The only one who will hire me because you’ve spread rumors about every member of my family to every business in this damned town.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his smirk becoming even more mocking somehow, “What makes you think I’d hire you?”

Your heart sank.

“I mean,” he continued, cutting off any attempt at a rebuttal, “your skills are pathetic, really. You suck at everything you do. I could easily find a decent assassin in the back alley of this street. In fact, I could probably pay him less than what you’re begging for, too.”

“Please, Tsukishima,” your voice came out in a pitiful whimper that made your insides twist in self-revulsion, “I need this… I’ll do anything… just please.”

A noncommittal hum was your answer, prompting you to fall to your knees and truly beg. In that moment, you hated yourself more than you ever had. But you had no other choice.

“Please, please, please Tsukishima, I’ll do anything, please…” you were bawling, salty streams running down your face and dripping to the expensive carpet you kneeled on.

He heaved a sigh and lazily slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Fine. But I do want you to agree to one condition. In writing.”

“Yes?” your head perked up, your heart soaring in a sudden whirlwind of hope that had your head spinning from the emotional whiplash.

A prewritten paper was pushed across the wooden desk he sat at, graced with his delicate handwriting. The page’s contents froze the blood in your veins, but, regardless, you signed your name on the line he wordlessly indicated.

“If I fail to complete the assassination of Yamaguchi Tadashi within the allotted time (one week), I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.”

That last line sent shivers down your spine, but...

You had no other choice.

But, even as you internally repeated the reassurance on the ride back to the pile of sticks you called home, you deflated with the confidence you were losing bit by bit.

You kind of wished the chauffeur talked during this car ride.

This time the silence was deafening.

One week. That was more time than you’d ever been given. The previous record was five days. This assassination should have been a piece of cake.

So why was this one so much more difficult than any you’d had before?

All you really had to go off was a picture Tsukishima had shown you and a name. A few tips from some… unsavory… people had you standing in front of the Yamaguchi household within the same day.

But those damned rich people had security so tight you almost wondered if they knew you were coming. You didn’t make it to the window you planned to sneak through before security was tossing your ass onto the sidewalk you started on.

Another tip came through, letting you know that the humiliating experience was for all for nothing. The Yamaguchi family was vacationing abroad in England. You had no money for a plane ticket, so the struggle of becoming a stowaway befell you.

Three days into the mission and you had no idea where to find your target and an entire country to search.

Then a tip came through! It wasn’t a vacation, but a business trip! Yamaguchi was pitching a million-dollar idea to a company miles away from the airport. Hitchhiking was never fun, but it was necessary this time around.

Unfortunately, it turned out Tadashi’s father was the Yamaguchi that was meeting with the company. “Questioning” his father led you to a new destination.

The damned man was in Brazil, catching up with some of his old friends.

You were on the fifth day by the time you made it there. Sweltering heat, the only food in your belly being food scraps from garbage cans, and exhaustion… but worst of all, you still had no idea where Yamaguchi was.

A few more tips and you miraculously found the group of friends meeting up, but no one matched the picture you were given. Not a single one of them knew where Yamaguchi was, saying that they hadn’t seen him in a couple years.

You should have guessed his father had lied and you berated yourself on your mistake. On the trip back to Japan, a sickening feeling swirling in your belly overtook you, only worsened tenfold when you looked at the time.

11:46 pm. The end of the seventh day, and, subsequently, your life was less than 15 minutes away. All you wanted to do was sneak off to your family for one last goodbye...

Tsukishima was waiting for you in the airport lobby, his obvious smirk screamed “victory” to you. You trailed behind him like a leashed puppy being led by its owner through the pouring rain.

Time was up, so it was time to die.

You had no other choice.

“So,” Tsukishima sat at the mahogany desk, his grin too much for you to look at, “I believe seven days have passed and, according to our contract, that means you’ve failed to complete your objective in time.

Your voice wavered, even as you held back the tears and straightened up, “I have a request, Tsukishima.”

“You’re not really in a position to bargain, you know,” he quirked an eyebrow upwards, but gave you an indulgent smile, motioning for you to continue with his hands, despite the contradiction in his words.

“When you kill me, can you please make sure my family gets some sort of money? I-I know I failed but… my little brothers are just children. They’re not old enough to get a job, even if our reputation would let them- I mean, the eldest of them won’t be an adult for five years…”

“You want to give back to your family?” Tsukishima hummed to himself, his expression impossible to read, “That’s noble of you, but I’d expect nothing less.”

He straightened up in the leather chair, his smirk fading into a smile that seemed surprisingly gentle… fond, even, “I’ll give money to your family after you die, alright?”

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice. Your lip quivered as you let the tears flow freely from your eyes. Tears not just of terror, but of relief. At least your failure would still benefit your family, which was your goal in the first place.

You just wouldn’t be there to enjoy it with them.

“(Y/n).” His voice still held that victorious smugness in the tone, but the pitch was softer, almost as though he was soothing a child or calming a stray cat. Your eyes were too blurry with tears to see anything more than his figure rounding the desk and approaching you.

“Can… can my death be quick and painless? I know I-I’m asking a l-lot b-but-” you burst into tears, blubbering too much to get the words out. It was… it was real. You were going to die. You were never going to hug your dad, help out your mom, and play with your little brothers again. Their faces flashed through your head as your vision blurred more under the flood of tears.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Surely you were imagining that he’d said you weren’t going to die at his hands, right? You were in denial, or something, right?

The tall blond must have recognized the confusion on your tear-stained face, because he repeated exactly what you’d thought he said, “I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned in close, his warm breath playing across your cheeks and cooling the salty tears that wettened them. His slender fingers slid under your chin and angled your head to face yours.

His eyes. Oh God, the expression in them… You’d never seen this look in Tsukishima’s golden eyes before and it shook you to the core. Protected by just a thin barrier of glass were his golden-brown eyes, the pupil blown wide with soft adoration.

That expression… it reminded you of the time your youngest brother found the cutest little white kitten in the alley near their shack. Before your mother dismissed the idea of keeping it (there were too many mouths to feed already), his eyes shimmered with excitement and love for the tiny bundle of fur he cradled in his arms and cuddled his face into.

The same expression… it matched how Tsukishima was looking at you now. As if you were the only thing in the world that mattered and he finally had gotten it.

You were fucking terrified.

“The contract said ‘I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.’ It didn’t specify that I’d kill you, only that your life would belong to me. That you would belong to me.”

“W-why?” This was all too much… you felt like your head might explode from the spinning tornado of jumbled thoughts whirling through your brain.

His hand wrapped around yours and you allowed him to lead you from the office room, too numb to fight back against him. While you walked, he explained himself to you, his tone holding barely-contained excitement in every syllable. It made you nauseous.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time you know… you barely even noticed me, despite all of our classes together. I signed up for every single one of your classes, even though our majors were different. But did you ever try to keep our conversations going? Or reach back out to me like I did to you? No, not even once.”

His voice grew darker as anger replaced excitement, “So I had your mansion demolished, then spread those rumors about your family. I mean, I know you already knew about the rumors, you’re not stupid after all…”

He… he did this? It wasn’t the storm after all?

“But when I saw your devastated expression I… I realized I didn’t do that for revenge. I didn’t like seeing your suffering as much as I thought I did. I wasn’t over you, and I’m still not. I devised a plan to finally bring you back to me, but you remained so stubborn.”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then relaxed, “But you’re here now, and that’s all that mattered. Yamaguchi Tadashi is my best friend, I made sure he knew about my plan and he was more than willing to help. I hid him in Brazil and placed guards around him and his house, just in case. They were ordered not to kill or badly hurt you.”

So that’s why they didn’t do anything to me except kick me out… and they really did know I was coming…

“I had people all over give you false tips to lead you astray. Plane trips to other countries can take a long time, can’t they?”

It was your turn to grit your teeth, but you sure as hell weren’t relaxing afterwards.

“You weren’t actually supposed to go to Brazil, but my spies made sure to alert Yamaguchi before you found him, so he wouldn’t be surprised when you showed up. He told me you came right up to him and asked if he’d seen himself! He lied straight through his teeth, obviously. That picture I gave you, by the way, is a random stock photo. I was honestly surprised you didn’t Google him or anything, but it worked out for me. You didn’t recognize him at all.”

He led you into what appeared to be his bedroom, judging by the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

“Now, my sweet (Y/n), get on your knees.”

You knew what was going to happen to you at this point. If his big supervillain-esque reveal wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the lust clouding his eyes sealed the deal.

There was no point in fighting him, so you dropped to your knees. Tsukishima eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants, tugging out his hardened cock. It was long and veiny with a flushed tip. It wasn’t very thick, but its length made up for its girth.

“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?”

The legally-binding contract, Tsukishima’s influence, and your family’s safety- you had no other choice. Your hand reached out and your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your lips wrapping around the rounded tip.

Tsukishima let out a pleasured sigh above you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Humiliated, you forced yourself to take him into your mouth, gagging when his hips moved forward and the tip hit the back of your throat.

He hissed out praises while you reluctantly sucked his dick, nausea stirring in your stomach at the taste of his salty precum on your tongue. Finally, he gently pushed your head away, and you risked a look up at his face.

The once-composed, proper-looking stoic man looked like an absolute mess. His glasses were slightly askew and his face was bright red. He was panting- ragged loud breaths that blew across your face in uneven waves of air.

A shudder rolled through him and one of his trembling hands pointed at the large bed. “Strip and lay on your back.”

As you fumbled with your clothes, hot tears rolling down your face, his eager words assaulted your ears from behind you as he rambled on about you both, “You don’t need your old family, we’ll start our own! I need to continue the Tsukishima family line, and you’re good with your little brothers, so you’ll be great with our child! And we’re finally going to make love… oh God, (Y/n), I’ve been waiting years for this.”

You didn’t want to have a child with him. You didn’t want to be raped. You didn’t want this twisted infatuation he had for you, but...

You had no other choice.

Finally finished that one!

Cilan isn‘t used to interacting with guests and is more used to harsh words than kind ones. While insults don‘t reach him much anymore, standing in front of his idols does make him nervous

more context here

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

What in "Hell" is Bad?

So they have names... I think? Either way. I can't wait for this!!! I'm waiting on their "Mammon" Teaser image.

Ark Academy is going to take time. At least I have something beside Obey me and Nu Carnival to play after Love Unholyc finish with William's route

Note: This is noted as a "Mature" game, so if you are under 18 this isn't for you.

daddy’s favourite issue - enji todoroki

rating: e (18+) reader: f summary: loving the great endeavor was a euphoria you never wanted to quit. he was an inferno, a blazing glory of an old man who doesn’t talk to his kids because they all hate him. he’s a bad man wrapped in the packaging of a good guy, a hero.  tags: smut, rough sex, riding, sugar daddy au, filth.

Keep reading

Hello! I was wondering if you could do Atsumu w/ a s/o who tells their friends they play volleyball and their friends just start laughing and making jokes like “Oh no no no, you’d be benched because you’re too short” 🥲

it’s alright if not, I think I’ve only sent you angstier requests (sorry 😔) so it’s fine if you don’t want to do this. Have a good day/night regardless <333

"hey, shrimpy... what's all that they're gigglin' an' laughin' 'bout, hmm?" atsumu asks you in a whisper as you hand him the rogue volleyball that flew all the way to the back of the court. you felt too embarrassed to explain to your boyfriend just why exactly your friends were laughing at you; or more like, you were terrified of what atsumu might do to them, regardless if they just meant what they said as jokes or banter that stung you somehow.

you shook your head silently, insisting you didn't know or that it was something unfunny, but before you could walk away, atsumu gripped your wrist and walked up to you. "baby... you don't have to lie. i think... something's up between you and 'em, hmm? am i right or right?" he asked you with a slight smirk curving up on his lips.

you hesitate to tell him for a moment, but you shake your head once more in response, prompting the blonde to quit smirking, and look at you with such a soft expression on his face. he had known that from the very beginning, a lot of people looked down on you for your stature. despite being as talented as any tall volleyball player out there, you were never given a proper chance to prove your worth because of how outlandish the idea of a short person like you being able to overcome the hurdles that stood behind that net.

his hand slid down to your fingers, then to your palm, and the back of your hand. he held your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing manner with the pad of his thumb. "hey... don't listen to what they say." he blurted out of the blue, making you turn around to face him with glassy eyes that threatened to spill out tears any moment now. he smiled at you sweetly and wiped the tears from your eyes gently with his other hand after setting the ball down.

"you are so talented, and if they can't see your worth past for what you're lacking... then they're all full of bullshit." he chuckles out from under his breath, shaking his head lightly at how utterly wrong your friends are for laughing at you for your small size, and not supporting you for how great you are beyond how you may seem. "even if they're joking, they should support you a great deal... but if not them, i could always do it for you, my cutie; my amazing, strong and powerful cutie." he murmurs into your ear after leaning closer to you, kissing your ear and wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you tightly.

"and besides... such a cute height like this really makes me feel so fond of you. look how comfy i am with resting my chin on your pretty little head, hmm?" he teases as you knit your brows together in embarrassment and frustration. looks like your cocky bastard of a boyfriend can say meaningful, worthwhile things sometimes... and make you feel good about yourself, feel supported, for who you are no matter what you were born with.

Endeavor’s Mistress - NSFW

Characters: Enji Todoroki (Endeavor)

Last Proofread: June 9, 2023

Concept: Endeavor has a lot of secrets. You being his secretary and operations manager isn't one, but you bring mistress definitely is.

Warnings: Oral with male receiving, marital affair, no clear 'yes' for consent, unplanned pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex.

You have been his right hand when it came to his hero work long before he was married. Where Endeavor was the face of his agency, you were the heart that kept it running smoothly and kept everything up to code.

In fact, you were there from the very beginning of his pro hero career. You helped him build his agency from the ground up. There were somedays where he thought that you even knew the business better than he did! You were reliable and you kept everything running smoothly. Even when he felt like he was falling apart.

You two had worked together for so long that it wasn't uncommon for you two to address each other on a first name basis. When he did marry Rei, you have met and when his kids came into the picture, they knew you as well.

Every event that Rei couldn't attend; you were often there with him. It wasn't uncommon for you two to share meals together or attend formal hero events with him. Afterall, you knew his life almost better than he did. It was your job to keep everything running smoothly and sometimes that meant you had to be his handler as well.

However, when Rei was hospitalized after harming Shoto, that's when his family and his life really started to fall apart. Like you have always done though, you kept things moving and you carried the extra weight without a single complaint. Supporting him and making sure he and the agency successful was your job and you were married to your career.

Then one night, it changed. It was just the two of you left in the offices. Everyone else was either on patrol or asleep upstairs in the dorms. Leaving a skeleton crew on the floor and you in his office with him going through the end of the day paperwork that you needed his signature on. A scenario that had happened a million times since you have started working together.

The difference this time was that he was grumpier and snappier with you than normal. He was finding the smallest details to let himself be agitated over. After the next snap from him about what you were currently presenting for his official signature, you suddenly dropped the stack of papers on the corner of his desk with an exasperated sigh. you pinched your nose and rubbed your fingers across his sinuses.

As if he was just realizing that he was being an asshole, Endeavor looked away and quietly apologized. He offered you some explanation of feeling more stressed out than he ever has before. The pressure of being a single parent and pushing Shoto to be what he wanted him to be. It was all making him snappy and more on edge.

With a snap of your fingers on your free hand, you used your quirk to close and lock his office door. He looked at you with a confused look and questioning eyebrow. Wondering what your motive was as you have never done this before. With a quick twirl of your finger, you used your quirk again to roll him back away from his desk.

Before Endeavor knew what was happening, you were on your knees in front of him. Your telekinesis quirk being used to undo the belt and zipper of his pants. "What are you--- ah!" You didn't give him a chance to protest. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his pants, your hand wrapped around his shaft and you started pumping up and down his length. You're mouth quickly following.

Soon, one of his large hands found hold in your hair as the other started gripping the arm of his chair. You could hear his breathing getting heavier and the occasional groan of "fuck" escaping him. His hips would occasionally give a small jerk towards your mouth when you hit a really good spot. It was clear he hadn't been sexually satisfied in quite a while.

You continued to work him until you got the warning that he was about to cum. Your decision to let him cum in your mouth was strictly based on ease of clean up. As he came down your throat, your dutifully swallowed every drop. Pulling off of him when he was done, you took two fingers and carefully wiped your mouth off. The motion being very much like you just had an expensive desert at a high-end restaurant.

As if you had just got done picking up a dropped pencil from the floor and not just sucked off the number two hero, you stood up. Straitened your clothing and hair, then dusted off your knees. "That should fix that." You said so nonchalantly.

You then picked your pile back up. “Now then. These are the forms approving the two new hires that we talked about for the records department. With Janice retiring and our increase in documentation requirements by the commission, this should make things run a lot smoother.” And you just moved on with what you were doing beforehand. Acting like nothing had happened.

Just like that, that was where it had all started. From there, it became an occasional blow job when you noticed that his attitude and his stress levels were becoming higher again. Noticing the built-up tension that he was carrying from doing everything.

Then it started becoming more frequently as he would begin initiating the act. He would start ask you to stay late instead of going up to the dorm or home to your condo. Once it was the two of you either in his office or in one of your rooms upstairs, he would ask for you to be on your knees in front of him at least once a week. That quickly became a nightly part of your routine at the end of the day.

One day, the blow jobs started not being enough for Endeavor. The first time he stopped you from sucking his cock to completion, he reached a large hand down to your face and guided you up and off of his dick. "Not that I don't enjoy you sucking my cock-- " He started as he pulled you up from the floor and then pushed you forward over his desk. "I'm just in the mood for something else." With that, he pushed up your pencil skirt and pulled down your tights and lace thong.

Endeavor then grabbed his cock by the base and bullied it inside of your pussy. Pushing to get all of it on the first thrust. Once he was in you, you could feel one of his large hands on your hip to hold you in place and the other finding it's placement next to your head as he bent over you.

He kept ramming himself in and out of your tight pussy. Fucking you over his desk as he enjoyed the tightness of your pussy and how you were squeezing him. Where he would have normally busted his nut down your throat, this time, he took advantage of being inside of you and instead dumped his load inside of you as he fucked himself as deep into you as he could.

From there, the path of your affair with Endeavor took on a much faster pace than it had when it was only blow jobs. While nothing had changed on the outside between the two of you, it started becoming an almost nightly occurrence for you to end up in his room at the agency every night. On the rare occasion, he would meet you at your condo around the corner from the agency.

When you got pregnant the first time, there was no question about what choice you were going to make. You were married to your career and were not even thinking about kids or having a family. You were barely interested in dating as it took too much attention away from your career. So, there was no way you were keeping this pregnancy.

Nevertheless, you still informed him of it. You didn't let him process the information or have get a reply in before you very matter of fact stated that you were not keeping this pregnancy. You told him that he did not have a say in it either. and stated what you were going to do. Making it clear he had no say in this matter with how you kept it matter of fact.

With him already having four legitimate children with his wife, Endeavor wasn't interested in having more children anyhow. He was in agreement with your plan and even quickly offered up his credit card. He paid for all of the expenses, including having a private car and driver to take you to and from your appointment.

Once it was done, neither of you spoke about it again and your relationship continued as it was. The abortion was just treated as another piece of business that was taken care of.

Two years after your first pregnancy with Endeavor, your affair and position had remained mostly unchanged. You remained married to your job and had completely given up on finding a partner to have a family with. The only thing that really changed was that now you were looking into how to have a family of your own without the support of a partner.

When you decided to stop taking your birth control, you mentioned it casually in passing to him. After all, it was fair to say something. Give him the option to decide for himself if he wanted to use a condom or stop his affair with you. However, nothing changed. He kept dumping his loads inside of you and fucked you on the regular.

When you became pregnant a second time, you didn't share it with him. After all, this was going to be your baby and you had only used him to father your child. He finally noticed when he was laying in bed with you one night and saw how your lower abdomen was become quite round like Rei's did when she was in her earlier months of pregnancy. You couldn't hide it while you were naked.

When Endeavor did finally ask, you were honest and confirmed that you were pregnant. You were very blunt and to the point when you told him that this was going to be your baby. Not his and he would not be allowed to have a father role in raising your child.

Endeavor already had four legitimate children, three that were still alive. He was agreeable with you keeping his bastard child and not being involved as their father. However, he did significantly increase your pay without a word from you. When you had questioned him about it, he merely shrugged and called it a pay raise to accommodate for your cost-of-living increase.

That was the last conversation he had about the child until you gave birth. You had your daughter at the best private hospital that money could buy via C-section. The only acknowledgement that he gave to you being in the hospital was the flowers that he had delivered to your room while you were recovering.

With the extra money from your 'raise' that you received, you were able to pay for everything you needed for your daughter and then some. Only the best nannies, private tutors, professional cooks, private cars and drivers. Everything that you needed to be able to support your child while not sacrificing anything for her career.

The only change that occurred in your relationship with Endeavor was that he was no longer allowed to come to your condo. Afterall, your daughter did not have a father listed on her birth certificate. Only that she was conceived using unidentified donor sperm.

In fact, you two were back to having sex regularly only three weeks after you gave birth to your daughter. It was definitely against medical recommendations, but you had a plan and an idea of how to shorten your time away from work to get the family that you wanted.

When your daughter was only three months old, you discovered that your plan had worked as intended and that you were pregnant again. Just like with your daughter, everything went the same way with your son. Endeavor wasn't to be his father and would continue to keep his distance from your children. Though again, you suddenly received another substantial 'cost-of-living' raise.

Your son ended up being born six days after your daughter's first birthday. Though this time, you had your tubes tied before you left the hospital so that you wouldn't have to worry about birthcontrol again.

Your life with Endeavor and your children didn't change. You had a giant team of staff that was tasked with raising your children for you while you were committed to your career. At night before you would go home to your children, you would spend a few hours in Endeavors room upstairs.

Then that day came. The day of Dabi's Dance where he spilled footage of all of Endeavor's dirty laundry. You watched in horror as his oldest son told the world everything. Your heart hammered away in your chest and your face drained of color.

It was all going to come crashing down. Everything you work so hard for was going to fall apart around you. Then you heard it. Your name coming from Dabi's mouth followed by the names of your four-year-old daughter and three-year-old son as he spilled the knowledge of your nine year affair with his father.

That was the day that the world as everyone knew it started to burn.