(for the interaction with forced ager Aizawa! I hope this is workable? I wasn't really sure how to write it?)
"Hey there baby boy, look at you! Absolutely adorable there all swaddled up in your blankie! You want some juice? Babey boy want some appy juice?!" Your voice was pitched just high enough to hit that teasing baby voice. I mean come-on, theres no way you couldn't tease the restrained hero. Especially when his glare couldn't have been less effective as he squirmed for any sort of leverage he could find trapped swaddled tightly in a blanket. You may have been just as trapped alongside Shouta, but at least you had the freedom to *move*- Hizashi gave you that at least. Though seeing him helpless in front of you...You kind of wanted to see how far you could take things before you were caught.
tw.forced agr3, a sprinkle of physical abuse, mean reader, baby vs baby pfffff
MILESTONE CHARACTER INTERACTION EVENT
It's sick, sick, sick, sick how much enjoyment you're getting out of his predicament. The way he squirms and shifts against the restraints as you taunt him, while Hizashi is just out of earshot, tinkering in the kitchen. (The telltale mix of metal on metal and soft rock music (and the occasional sung line) mingles in the background while he’s preparing lunch for the three of you.) The way his bloodshot eye squints at you with fatigue, irritation and disbelief is downright delicious and the way he wriggles just a little harder at your mocking words ignites some twisted glee deep, deep down in your belly. A taste of his own medicine, if you so will.
It feels good. Freeing, even.
Your pacifier is in your hands, plucked from your mouth by your own free will, by fingers that can move around if they so please. You wriggle them at him in a mock wave, the meanest, most disgusting little grin on your face.
"You're just a little baby now, daddy", you coo while he tries to answer, but he can't even say anything. His mouth is kept behind a baby-blue pacifier gag (the same model you used to wear) and only grunts and loud breaths tell you he is beyond irked by your behavior. Good.
It’s funny, really. How quickly the tables have turned on him. How he’s restrained now, a grown man in infantile onesies and cutesy bdsm restraints as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. How he mirrors you now, with the stark difference that you can at least crawl around him.
Because you have been good and he hasn't. No, his incessant movement and protest keep you up at night, his refusal to eat hinders your meal times - he’s a fucking brat, that’s what he is. You can understand him, of course. As much as you hate to act like some toddler, there is no escaping from these two men - now only one, but still. He’s better off accepting his new life, just like you did. Play nice and get rewarded, even if it’s vile.
And as you sit on a pastel-pink carpet, you might just do your part.
"Do you want to play horsies?”, you ask while you bat your eyelashes at him. The stupid toys are all over the room, with your two favorites right next to you, big and expensive. He never was (still is?) the type to get down and dirty with the figurines just like Hizashi does and now he’ll get to experience just how mind-numbingly dumb they really are.
Your face twists into mock concern as you wait for an answer - one he can’t provide. With a shrug, you pick the two up and hold them in front of his face, seemingly waiting on him to take one.
"Oh no, daddy - you can't! No hands to play with, hm?", you pout. "Don't worry, I'll play for you, too.”
One unicorn in your dominant hand and a pegasus in the other, you let them soar through the air while making all sorts of weird play noises, annoying and loud. You watch him as they circle in front of him, his one eye sticking to their movements and he calms down a little, probably under the impression that you’ll shut up for now.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The horses are made out of plastic, every sharp edge carefully rounded to avoid injury - but kids are kids and they love to play rough, don't they?
You giggle a little as you hold the unicorn next to his face, gently turning its head so it touches his skin slightly, suggesting a tender kiss.
"Oh, look! She loves you. Loves you so so so much!", you coo at him, eyes crinkling into the fakest smile you can muster. “Just as much as I love you, daddy.”
You ram it into his cheek with little concern for his comfort. You want it to hurt. Making the most obnoxious kissing noises as you grind that stupid toy with its light-up effects into his stupid face and he can't do anything about it, can't even tell you to stop. Just a helpless, stupid baby as you stab, stab, stab, stab his cheekbone, where the skin is paper-thin and where it’s bound to be painful with the force you’re applying. It’s silly, it’s absolutely laughable, but so are two grown people in diapers playing pretend against their will in pastel-colored walls.
He tries to turn his head away, but his wriggling makes you miss your target until the plastic sinks into the skin just below his good eye. You can feel the resistance that is his eyeball and it must hurt, because he immediately stops. Those dark lashes are cast down as you stay just as still as he does, until something trickles out behind them, slow and wet.
A tear? No way. You both watch each other for a couple of breathless seconds, you with morbid fascination and him with betrayal in his eye. The sight makes your belly coil with something akin to triumph and you finally let the toy slip out of your grasp as you lean closer, lips parted in anticipation.
He’s oddly beautiful like this, defeated and weak.
You swat away a couple of loose strands of hair before you take his face into your hands and press a kiss to the red spot that blooms on his skin. And another. Then another.
You kiss and bite and lick the mark until the radio stops and he tries to shake you off, until you can taste his blood through your teeth, until Hizashi’s heavy steps are right in front of the door and you know you’ll be in deep, deep trouble.
You can’t bring yourself to care.
Venti! I know you said there’s no one true windbloom but.... I saw you looking at cecilias and I wanted to give them to you because you’re my windbloom!
Venti: he smiles with bright red cheeks th-thanks! And... you're my windbloom, too.
“Wait—stop! You know I l-love you right?” (With Shigaraki plz🙇🏾♀️)
aah sorry for the long wait for such a little crumb - i find shigaraki very hard to write so i have to wait until the mood strikes and it did!! thanks for the delicious prompt 💕
tw.yandere, implied noncon
MILESTONE CHARACTER INTERACTION EVENT
The fingers on your thighs tighten, eight calloused fingertips grip straight through your fat until they find the hard shield that is muscle, pinkies still up in the air even as the others bend with the applied force. There is a rustle of clothes, then some movement as his head pops up between your legs, red eyes narrowed at you.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”, he croaks and is still so close that you can feel the air on your crotch as he speaks. You flinch at the sensation, warm and almost wet against the cotton of your briefs.
“Do you think this will buy you time?”, he hisses, a hint of something genuine in his words. Hurt? “You think I’m gonna wait for the perfect moment or something?”
He scoffs at his own words.
“No, I-”, you rush out but the air is knocked out of your lungs before you can continue.
You’re flipped onto your back in one swoop, legs pressed to your chest as he hovers over you, staring you down. His face is hard to read, anger and curiosity swimming in his eyes.
“I don’t wanna hear it”, he clips and puts his weight against you a little more, until your hip creaks at the pressure. Something firm brushes against you and your head swims for a moment at the sensation. This is really happening, you think, and yet you feel as though you’re merely watching yourself from the corner of the room.
“I mean it-”, you say, one last futile attempt at stopping him, at saving your pride and your lie.
He grins. Big and mean underneath his chapped lips, with slightly stained teeth. It’s such an uncharacteristic gesture for his anger that the sight alone makes you shut up.
“Liar, liar”, he says and drags his fingers up to the elastic that rests just above your hip bone, jagged fingernails scratching over soft skin. “And a bad one, too.”
“but what if I choose to leave?” (with yandere giran or something dark)
went with giran 💕 nothing but love for our sleazy old man
tw. fem reader, implied drugging, inappropriate quirk usage, yandere
MILESTONE CHARACTER INTERACTION EVENT
"'Choose to leave'? Sweetheart, you're acting like I'm keepin' you here against your will.”
His eyes light up alongside the cigarette between his fingers as he takes a drag, perched behind his desk without a care in the world.
As always, he’s mocking you. That little smile as he pushes the smoke through the gap of his teeth, the curl of his lips when he opens his mouth afterward to say something, the light in his eyes as he looks at you over the edge of his glasses - he isn’t taking you seriously and it immediately makes anger flare up in your chest, hot and sharp.
“Really wonder where you’re getting all these silly ideas from, woman”, he says and laughs a little at his own words. “Reading too much, are you?”
"I don’t think this is funny.”
And you don’t. You can’t quite remember the last time you slept at your own apartment, hell, the last time you went to work. What day is it? How long have you been with him? At least a couple of days, maybe more than a week? It's dizzying and you feel like you have been here before - everything is weirdly familiar but you can't place your finger on it. You aren’t even wearing your own clothes, he put you in something scratchy, garishly colored number you’ve never seen in your life.
You stare at each other for a second, his smile suddenly a little strained behind the smoke. He shakes his head at his desk, clicking his tongue in disbelief before making a sweeping gesture with his right hand. He’s looking for excuses, you just know it.
"You worry too much", he murmurs and subtly rolls his eyes as if you aren't standing right in front of him, as if you aren't genuinely distressed underneath your sharp voice.
"Do I?", you shoot back and cross your arms over your chest. He knows exactly what you mean, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you - only you aren’t too sure of it. Something is off and only he can be the source.
Giran scoffs.
“Always so dramatic, you’re gonna make my heart give out one of these days”, he says and takes a long drag from his cigarette before tipping the ash off.
"You're avoiding my question", you snap back, not backing down now.
“Alright, alright. If it irks you that much, go. Can’t believe it’s too much of me to want to have you around for a little while. ”, he says and throws his hands up in defeat, both defensive and dismissive. He stumps out the cigarette with a little too much force and scratches his chin in contemplation, clearly not done yet. "But at least give your old man a kiss before you go home. Don't like it when you stay mad at me, you know that."
The demand is so off-color it makes you physically recoil.
"Are you serious?"
"Does it hurt you?", he shoots back, "Never said you couldn't leave, darling. Don't be like that now, hm?"
“You’ll be lucky if I ever come back after this”, you say and you mean it. You’re so mad at him it takes everything you have not to strangle him right here, right now.
He laughs. Again. “Aw, you’re just angry with me now. ‘Said that the last time, too.”
Your brow twitches. “I-”, you want to protest, want to slap that sly smile off his face but he is right. You did come crawling back after your last big fight, although you only remember it now that he’s mentioning it. How long has it been? You don’t even remember why you had fought.
One knowing look and you fold like a wet paper bag, ashamed and ridiculed. You feel like a child caught in a lie, small and pathetic.
“See? Always so quick to fire, aren’t you?”, he smiles and gets up. You barely manage a step back before he’s right in front of you, his hand reaching for your face, a gesture you know all too well. He sighs.
The telltale clink of metal on metal jingles away at your cheek as he caresses it and you can’t stop yourself from sinking a little into his touch. He can be so good to you, but something is off - you need some distance, some time to think-
Everything turns hazy.
Your anger subsides with the sensation and you have to keep your head from lulling into his hand with all its weight. It’s nice, calming and completely makes you lose track of the whirlwind of thoughts that had made your mind spin just seconds earlier. Giran smiles down at you, warm and reassuring.
"Keeping you? Ridiculous...", he murmurs, his voice soft and eyes dark. "I’m not doing anything, darling.”
You hum in response, still wrapped in cotton and more focused on his necklace than anything else. When he pulls his hand away you have half a mind not to chase it but he quickly placates you with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your temple. He smells like smoke and coffee and something sweet and you melt into his touch. It feels nice. Nice and safe.
"C'mon, sit down and have a drink with me", he laughs as your head swims and you can only manage to give him a loopy smile in response. “I certainly need one.”
"Master Overhaul, please don't put that thing me! Not again. It still hurts from last time. I promise I'll be good!"
For your milestone event! Congratulations! 🎊💓
catheter idea is ‘napped from babyduck (my love) (and this won’t be the last time i’m stealing it either haaa)
tw.medical malpractice, yandere
MILESTONE CHARACTER INTERACTION EVENT
It’s a catheter. Again.
The words bubble out of you before you can stop them - you are still hurting, still humiliated by the process, something you’ll never get used to, you know that. With your bottom exposed, and the rest of you in nothing but a flimsy hospital gown you feel like a human guinea pig, not someone in need of medical attention. He doesn’t even have the decency to throw a lab coat over his dress shirt, just rolls up the sleeves until they settle a little above his elbows, another indicator that this is merely an afterthought to him.
You watch him with bated breath, knowing full well that you’ve spoken out of line - and that the consequences can be severe. But he hasn't said anything, hasn't even looked at you in the last seconds. Not even his shoulders slack with that faint sigh that usually indicates that he has heard you, that you are being noticed.
You aren’t sure if this is a good sign.
The rubber tube rests in his hands as he holds it up against the light, carefully inflating the little balloon attached to the tip. He’s checking it, you know that much after all these times he’s made you wear it.
That’s going inside of you, you think and you have to keep yourself from squirming. The white covers are already under and on top of you - they're sterile, too. If you shift them around by moving, you will be punished - nothing he hates more than you breaking up his carefully crafted routines.
It feels weird. Unnatural to have something inserted into your urethra and even weirder for that little balloon to blow up. It burns, always burns even though it shouldn't (as he always says while dismissing your very real pain). Sometimes - rarely, really - he has the decency to apply a numbing agent beforehand, but that’s for when you’re good. When you’re demure and polite and agreeable according to his standards. Which you never really are.
But it’s worth another try, you think, hope you won’t regret it in a moment’s time.
"What about that gel?", you mutter, racking your brain for the name. Your attempt is brave, especially when he’s already ignored you once. "Lido-, Xylido- The one with lidocaine!" You finally stammer out, glad to even remember the agent - something he tells you from time to time, but you're no pharmacist. Memorizing all the different substances and medications is hard, especially when he changes them daily.
Finally he sighs, then lowers his hands again, deflating the balloon and putting the syringe aside. He turns to you, those yellow eyes so sharp your heart tightens for a single, terrifying beat.
“I am not breaking sterility for a gel. If you just listen to me and relax like I told you to the last time, it won’t hurt.”
A reprimand. Your face immediately burns up with the shame of being scolded by him, blood rushing to your head just to pool behind your ears. You lower your eyes again, unable to hold his gaze because of his annoyed tone. No gel, just the slick residue of the betadine swabs he sticks into you to disinfect you. You can’t help but clench up a little, even though he hasn’t even spread you apart with one hand, hasn’t even touched you yet.
"Now", he shuffles over to you and leans down just enough to make his intentions clear. "Take deep breaths when I tell you to, understood?"
