warnings : slight noncon, unhealthy obsessions, reader is unstable and fucked up ig, slight religious guilt, r has a d/strap, dacryphilia
prayers. scriptures. therapy. reconnecting with nature. or even looking at other women.
nothing never really got rid of your long-lasting, sick, twisted love for lauma.
the moonchanter was everything you weren't ; holy, pristine, precious, devoted, and pure.
while you? just a regular wanderer who wielded the element of pyro, casually stalking the deer hybrid from far away. though your fire was meant to burn monsters, your desire for her burned brightly.
you never really cared if you'd been viewed as weird, considered an outcast, hell even be called names, because in the end all those voices never mattered.
because they never belonged to lauma.
in the end, lauma's view and opinion of you was way more important, and you never as well cared if she labelled your relationship as friendship, or even strangers, but one thing is certain.
you would have her, and make her need you as long as you're still breathing.
so perhaps it was that fucked up kind of luck that decided to give you a chance, but lauma had latched onto you, seeking your "friendly" help. she'd gone into heat a few days prior, and got her to admit that right after you called out her peculiar behaviour at the altar. from her horns being much bigger than usual, prayer sessions being shorter, and how little time she decided to spend at the altar despite her fear of negligence for worship. she'd called it "the moon god's blessing of giving her time to reflect". however, you'd let her do more than reflect, not when she's allowing you access to her body.
back to present, you now face her, your hand against her warm cheek. lauma returns the gesture by placing her hand above that same hand on her cheek, allowing her to nuzzle closer into your touch. your hand trembles from excitement, heart beating way too fast for your own liking. under the moonlight, she basks in your presence and affection, loosening up to you.
and you can't help but mumble,
"would you like to ask your god to bless us on this eventful night, moonchanter?"
the next few moments had all been a blur, eyes hazy and clouded with lust to even concentrate on past events.
not when lauma was half naked in front of you, robes hiked up and wrapped around her waist, both your visions set on the stone altar, cum splattered on the cement of the holy grounds, and worst of all, you have her praying for you to stop with the relentless thrusting.
licking your lips, a hand on her hip moves up all the way to her hair, gripping at one of her horns, which seemed much bigger than ever. you lean down, cooing and grunting against her ear.
"can you feel me, lauma?"
it was more than fucked up for you to even ask, considering she can't form proper sentences, and the way the noises of her cunt taking all of your length was more overbearing to hear. so far, you were more than enjoying this, so hooked on the feeling of her walls clamping down on your length, how her pussy never wanted to let you go, so desperate for attention and release.
the grip on her horn tightened, and the moonchanter can only let out the most gut-wrenching cries of pleasure and struggle, the pressure on one of her most sensitive places really seeming to drive her crazy.
"n-no, not the horns, anything but that-"
you nibbled at the pointy tip of her ear, trying to silence her words by bombarding her body with pleasure, and the way you skillfully found all her weak points has her going weak in the knees. at some point, the pleasure had bordered pain, and it hurt so bad she may have needed you to stop for at least a minute.
"moon above, p-please, mercy-! just stop for a m-minute-!"
lauma's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and just for a moment, she saw the full moon's image, tears prickling in her eyes from the slight feeling of humiliation and embarrassment.
her reactions were to die for, if anything, you didn't listen to her pleas, only proceeding to drive yourself deeper into her.
"fuck... my beautiful, pure moonchanter... praying to your god now? i'm quite offended you're thinking about that when i'm here blessing you with relief..."
chuckling at her whines of desperation, you found it ironic how she pleaded for you to stop, when her body just seemed to accept you the more you forced yourself in. you let go of her horn, hand sliding down tantalizingly to her hips. now holding her possessively, you gripped at her skin, hard enough to leave marks, worsening her feared pleas.
"you entrusted yourself to me, not your god. so even if i'm taking you on this altar, don't start praying. your god won't listen this time."
a/n: This was a headcanon list that turned into a small fic, this is my first time posting dark content, please message me if I need to add more TW tags or such. Thank you!
Content warnings: reader is female, HEAVY noncon ,dumbification, power imbalance, cum eating (f receiving), spit play, unprotected sex + forced creampie (light breeding mention but it’s up to the reader’s interpretation), dacryphilia, yandere themes?
*All characters aged up, Izuku is a pro hero and you are too.*
.
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Under his soft demeanor he’s got some of the most dark and depraved fetishes imaginable. Those bright beautiful green orbs that glimmer and have hope for the world are fluttering with long suppressed lust. Maybe it’s the way you flounce around in clothing that shows just barely too much skin? The way your delicate hands rest on his arm as you ask him questions after pro meetings. He’s not sure why he feels this way about you, Izuku knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help the way he’s stroked himself to the image of using you like a little toy. And today, is finally the day he stops dreaming and starts doing. There’s just something you.. about snuffing out that innocence and making you completely his. A darling that’ll let him fulfill everything he’s ever wanted, every sick desire he’s thought about.
It’s been nothing but meetings and viewing profiles of too criminals and villains on the move all day. Wednesdays are always like this, boring to the newly crowned number one hero since crime rates have dwindled once again. An intermission between meetings offers him an opening of invitation. Izuku trails after you as you make your way down to the vending machines downstairs.
He taps your shoulder, “Hey, wanna hang out at my house after this next meeting?” His voice chokes out. You smile sweetly, unsuspecting of the dark undertone to his question. Unsuspecting to the way he shifts around hiding his arousal of the thoughts racing around his mind.
“Sure! I’d love to go over some strategies for this new mission. Everyone tells me you’re pretty good at planning ahead and preparing for the worst!” You chirp.
He smiles back, “Sounds great! Let’s meet up back here and we’ll take the train to my house.” His reply is warm, with hints of nerves.
Izuku has doubts in his mind for the rest of the meeting, fidgeting with his pen, tapping fingers throughout each villain presentation. The growing guilt ringing through his ears, slide after slide of each villain’s crime. Sexual assault, kidnapping, it all sticks out to him like a sore thumb. He really doesn’t want to hurt you, and he certainly doesn’t want to be grouped in with the rest of these awful men presented on screen. Maybe he won’t go through with it after all. And it’ll be just that. Hanging out and collaborating. Yeah. That’s all it’ll be. The both of you meet up afterwards and walk down to the train station. The conversation is light hearted, drawing smiles and giggles from you whenever he stutters or attempts to make a joke. You’re too precious to be hurt in such a way, he thinks. You’re an amazing friend to him! Maybe establishing a relationship over time would just be better.
However, during the train ride back, he notices the way you press against him to keep your balance. Every bump delivering shivers down his spine as your body gives way to the train’s advances. As much as he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s made up his mind. Izuku’s a patient man. Some would say too patient. But the way you’re already acting towards him, in his mind, you’re going the one to be subjected to his vile explorations tonight.
———————————————————————
It starts off small, sitting so close next to you that your legs touch. He’s tapping a pen against the exposed plush skin just below your skirt. The pen slowly creeps its way up and past the hem; you’re too focused on your notes to notice as you babble on about your next strategy. His advances get bolder as your attempts to brush his heavy touches off become weaker. You’re lost in thought, there’s no way a pro hero would hurt their coworker right? Maybe you’re misinterpreting his actions? Maybe the way you’re dressed is inviting him in?
Just as sudden as he came onto you, you’re lifted onto his lap with ease, the adrenaline rushing straight to his cock as it hardens against your ass. You feel powerless against him. After all, your quirk would never measure up to the raw strength of One For All, something he’s quick to threaten you with if you’re getting too squirmy for his taste. He’s kissing and suckling at your neck absentmindedly, leaving deep purple marks. Skirt resting above your mid drift, he plays with the waistband of your panties, pulling them up to watch the creases of your folds appear, your body beginning to betray you as arousal starts to soak through. Tighter, he pulls, until the fabric begins to bunch, barely poking at your entrance. Izuku glides his fingers along your slit, pushing your panties inside for a brief moment.
You’re squirming too much for his taste, trying your best to wriggle free from his tight grasp once more. Izuku slams you down on the floor, your head hitting the wood paneling hard sending you into a slight daze. He pins you down so easily with his body weight while his hands wander around every surface of your body. Groping and kneading every soft bit of your flesh. His eyes filled with deprivation never lose sight of your body. He’s meticulous, taking pauses followed by shallow breaths before peeling off each layer of sweat drenched piece of clothing, evident of your lost battle with him. When you start crying, he licks your tears up from the bottom of your jaw all the way to your bottom lash as he buries himself in your cunt, shallow thrusts to savor each time your cunny twitches and recoils in protest.
Every time you vocalize for his mercy, it makes his heart skip a beat and he can’t help but egg you on to keep crying out for help. So you lower your voice, you don’t want to give him that satisfaction. You quiet down to hitched sobs that hiccup and squeak each time he fucks into your body like his personal flesh light. Izuku catches on so quickly, unsheathing his cock almost entirely before plunging full force back into you, bruising not only your cervix but your pubic bone during the repeated process. It’s a calculated inconsistency that earns him choked cries and an open mouth to spit into.
While Izuku thrusts closer to his climax, a looming threat hangs over your head. You weakly attempt to push him off. “Please… Izuku.. please stop”
“We cant stop now, my love. I-I haven’t even had the chance to cum inside.” He fumbles with his words, a classic trait that you’re too familiar with. Anxiety begins to bubble throughout your body, the words “cum inside” ring every alarm in your system. You’re not on birth control. You’re not on anything. Your pushes only strengthen by a tiny bit, body still bruised from the initial fall. You’re kicking your legs, begging him to stop.
“Izuku please… please oh my god…please stop! I’m not on any birth control! Please just let me go or… I’ll do whatever you want just please not this!” His movements slow to a halt. For a brief moment, you think you’ve scared him off. But he leans down, wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek gently.
His hot breath burning your ear in a sickly sweet voice, “I’ll help take care of whatever happens. Please, just give me this moment and I’ll take such good care of you.” He repeats it over and over, “I’ll take such good care of you” Your mind goes blank as the wet slapping sounds fill your senses.
His moans echo and etch into your mind as his brutal plunges start to slow, eventually stopping followed by his heavy panting. You feel… unbelievably full. You feel disgusting, glistening with a mixture of his saliva and sweat. But worst of all, you know you’ve surrendered to him entirely, not even attempting to flee once he’s had his way. Your dewy eyes gaze into the once hopeful green orbs, now half lidded and drinking in the fucked-out afterglow of your body. Before you’re even aware of what’s going on, he’s between your legs, lapping at his own fluid as it drips out of you. You look away in shame, the ceiling being your best option to stare at as he starts sucking your clit. He’s gentle at first, eventually growing into a rougher approach, taking a keen observation to how you cover your mouth from the forced pleasure. He dips two curled fingers deep into your cunt while his tongue swirls around your nub, desperate to make you snap under his will.
The attention to your nerves is too much to keep quiet about. The hand covering your mouth falls limp to your side as you arch your back in pleasure; the coil deep inside you finally unraveling making you cum hard with choked gasps and hot tears streaming down your face. He politely pries your mouth open, spitting a mixture of his cum and yours. A sick combination that you’ll never forget as it slithers down your throat. You’re hoping, praying this is finally over, your body limp and frail. Luck hasn’t been at your side at all today, and it won’t ever be again. Izuku’s body doesn’t know the meaning of recharge time in this case. The second he’s spent after eating your cunt pumped full of his seed, he’s sprung up again. With such impeccable stamina, it’s all the worse for you as he’s going to spend hours enacting every fantasy he’s ever wanted to try and by the end of it, his fetishes become yours too.
