Hi. Can you please write a Yandere!Bakugou x Fem!Reader where she used to be bullied by him in high school because he didn't know how to treat someone he has feelings for properly...When he captures her she's always hiding and in his confusion he becomes rather aggressive. She'll often sleep in the closet because she says weird things in her sleep, not eat because she's scared she looks weird doing it, hiding under tables whenever he's at home, unable to hold eye contact because, like a dog, he might se it as a challenge.
Omg twin!!! I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I hope you haven't been waiting too long. If so, I'm truly sorry. I'm just now getting back on the account. I'M REALLY SORRY!!
Hope you enjoy the writing!!
PLEASE... DON'T BE SCARED
characters : Yandere!Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader
cw : mention of kidnapping, quick mention of rape, manipulation, physical, verbal and emotional abuse, toxic relationship, both are adults
+ summary : how's your life living under the same roof as him
- note : From what I understand, some things happen before he goes to UA, and the rest takes place after everything that happens in the anime. I want to clarify that I haven't finished the anime, so I apologize in advance. If there's something you don't like or you simply want me to rewrite it, just tell me and I'll gladly do it.
song I used for inspiration : "so far so fake" by pierce the veil
You had just finished setting the table for dinner when you heard a door slam coming from the entrance. You quickly hid under the table, the tablecloth concealing your curled-up figure, now gripped by terror. To avoid making noise, you bit your thumbnail, praying internally while you hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. Your luck runs out every time he came home stressed from work, all that anger he had to contain for being a hero, he unlashed on you. It was always like this, from the beginning.
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You were a victim of an organized attack by villains, luckily you only had a few scratches, but the explosion they caused left you stunned; you couldn't hear anything except for a high-pitched whistling sound. And the last face you wanted to see was his, but there he was, saving you and keeping you safe while he beat up those he considered "wannabe villains". Every year after high school you were praying you'd never run into Katsuki Bakugou again, those years were the hell for you , and when you finally got rid of him you only saw him on the news, but you quickly changed the channel. Once he was done with the villains, he turn around to ask if you were okay, luckily you couldn't hear his vice thanks to the beeping, although you could see his lips moving in slow motion, and everything around him began to do so until you ended up unconscious.
When you woke up again, the first thing you noticed was that the small wounds you had were treated; you touched the bandage on your cheek while checking the place you had woke up. You knew it wasn't your room—the furniture, the clothes hanging in the barely open closet—but what chilled your blood were the photos you saw in that room. You jumped out of the bed and ran to the living room, whispering that it's just a dream, a bad one; you saw more photos similar to those in the room and some news clipping out his victories. Your stomach started to hurt, you were in the house of the person who caused most of your insecurities. How you get there was obvious, but why was what made you nauseous; because you didn't know if he raped you. You didn't show visible signs of abuse, but you couldn't be sure. That's when you heard the door open, the first place you thought of hiding was under the table; you heard the door close and heavy footsteps entering the room.
"What a shitty day...", you recognized that tone even if years had passed, for a moment you didn't hear him anymore, but a strong grip on your wrist pulled you out of your hiding place until you were face to face with Bakugou, "The hell are you doing there?". he asked calmly, something you never thought you would witness, but having him in front of you again took you to back to those school years and once again you felt small, unable to answer him, you just kept looking at him; his red irises always scared you and even had nightmares about them, you noticed hoe he frowned and you looked away. “I'm talking to you, woman”, He let go of your wrist and you held it to your chest without replying, “Are you going to tell me?”.
“I-I didn't know where I was… That’s why I hid…”
“And you think I'm stupid enough to believe that shit?”
You bit your lower lip, pressing your wrist harder against your chest. He sighed wearily, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re in a hero’s house and you’re still scared. It’s clear the attack left you traumatized. Don’t worry you’re safe now”
“I was never safe with you…”, you whispered without realizing it.
“Huh?!”, you saw how her eyes lit up even more and you began to take small steps backwards, for a few seconds you had a déjà vu. “I save you from those asshole”, he took a step towards you and you stepped back, “I bring you to my house”, you went backwards again, “I take care of your wounds”, you wanted to take another step but felt your back hit the wall; you could feel his eyes burning you with rage, “And this is how you thank me?!”, you closed your eyes, breathing shakily. That reaction finally broke him, despite having done everything. You were still afraid of him, weren't you? He grabbed you by the shoulders and you could feel his nails were going to pierce you at any moment. But when he saw the tears beginning to gather on your eyelashes, his strength faded, his brow furrowed with worry, but it was his voice that finally made you see him again, he spoke to you with all the gentleness his vocal cords allowed.
“I'm really sorry. I was trying to be nice to you, but I always fail”.
“Let me go… please…”, He let you go slowly, but with the fear that you might want to escape, so he didn't move from his position either. “I'm sorry… I didn't mean to act like that, it's just-”, he stopped himself before saying anything stupid or that might scare you again. But you, on the other hand, had a question that had always been lodged in your mind since he made you his victim of bullying. “Why me?”, you blurted out the question feigning bravery; he knew the question wasn't about the present, but about what happened in high school. “You could have grabbed anyone... Why me?”
“It was always you”, he answered.
“What? I never did anything to deserve being treated like shit!”
“All of this is your fault! You always made me feel weak, sick! I fucking hate feeling like this, vulnerable, unable to act! But your stupid body, your stupid voice, that damn innocent-girl gaze, makes me want to vomit every time I remember all that...”, he responded in that aggressive tone that characterized him. And you frowned, using what little courage you had mustered, not believing a word she said. "Don't you dare look at me like that," his gaze sharpened, a new warning sign for you. You quickly looked away.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“I DON'T-”, he raised his voice and his hands were about to grab you again, but seeing you again, but seeing you cowering in place made him stop his movements. He exhaled heavily through his nose and with one hand took your jaw, not too tightly so as not to hurt the wound on your cheek. “Look at me”, you preferred to look at any part of her face except her eyes,”Please, y/n”, You had never heard him pronounce your name with such patience. You looked up and noticed a hint of regret in his gaze, but something inside you screamed that you should run away. You held her wrist with both hands, breathing deeply for a few seconds before speaking, “I want to go home…”. He just smiled mockingly, as if you had said something stupid, he smiled the same way he did when he used to make fun of people at school.
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“I'm at home”, Katsuki said, walking slowly through the living room, “Y/N?” It didn't take him long to find you; the table was set, two plates facing each other with their respective cutlery and a glass each. He knelt down and barely lifted the tablecloth, putting her hand under the table; he was offering it to you, something he'd been doing for a couple of months now. Just as you were "adapting" to his way of being and his love, he was trying to do the same; he no longer pulled you when you hid or wanted to get away because of his outbursts of anger. Now he would lock you in the room until he calmed down, or he would let you hide wherever you wanted until you were ready to come out.
You accepted his hand and with his help you came out of your hiding place. “You have to stop doing that, seriously”, you noticed the frustration and tiredness in his voice, you gave a weak apology without looking him in the eyes, you didn't want your behavior to cause another argument. “You don't have to apologize all the time either”, you were going to apologize again, but you bit your tongue.
“How did it go…?”, you asked while arranging your hair; you usually tie it up or secure it with clips when you cook, so it doesn't bother you.
“Everything was going well until some wannabe tried to attack a school”, he replied, taking a seat, you took care of serving dinner and then sat down opposite him. “But you were able to stop them, right?”, You didn't watch or listen to the news; at first it was because you didn't want to see Bakugou in his role as a hero, an imposter, but after seeing that his dedication was genuine, you didn't even want to know about the news anymore so as not to be disappointed, maybe, or because you started to get used to living with him and a part of you didn't want anything to happen to him. You expected it to be the first thing.
“Of course I stopped them, I also didn't miss the opportunity to blow them up”, he commented with that smile of pride in his work, and you couldn't help but smile a little even though you lowered your head to take the first bite of dinner. That did not go unnoticed by his gaze, that reaction, though small, was what he had been looking for for months, a sign that you were finally feeling comfortable and safe. His smile faded until it softened, and he also began to eat; moments like these calmed his temper and fueled his unhealthy hopes that sooner or later you would reciprocate his feelings.
For you, this felt like a dream, not a pleasant one, but at least a peaceful one. You could still remember the first time you ate together.
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The first week living with him made hell look like a walk in the park on a summer's day; you didn't try to escape at any point, because you're smart enough to know that if you ever think of doing something like that, all you'll get is your remains scattered everywhere. You had to get used to his sudden shouts when he got frustrated or embarrassed with you, but you could never get used to his violence when work overwhelmed him. You'd end up with red wrists or arms from the struggle; he rarely put a hand on your neck, but he never used any pressure or force to strangle you because he always stopped when he saw your tears And when he hears your sobs, he takes you to that point, quickly hugs you and apologizes, though in reality he's just justifying his actions.
It was halfway through the first month that he confronted you about a habit you had, something that was normal for you but irritated him. You never ate together; that was something he considered important, as it would mean you were starting to feel comfortable around him, used to his presence, but nothing was going according to his plan. You would have breakfast when he left for work, lunch and dinner hours before he returned or when he told you he was going to be late, all because you didn't like people seeing you eat. It was in the first year of high school when Katsuki remarked during one of the lunches that your way of eating was grotesque; according to him, you ate desperately, as if they were going to take the food away from you, like a pig. So from that incident onwards you started eating in secluded places at school and could only enjoy food at home. But now, living with him, those thoughts have returned to invade your mind, you didn't have problems before because you lived alone. Now he was watching you intently at every meal, waiting for you to also serve yourself a portion of what you cooked or what he cooked, But you always had an excuse ready to avoid sharing such an intimate moment; you weren't a couple living under the same roof, you were his hostage, his victim, once again you were his toy.
That went on until one day he arrived at the house unexpectedly and caught you in the middle of your dinner, something reheated from lunch. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”, in the blink of an eye, your food was scattered all over the place; he smashed the plate with a small explosion of his hand. You had to use your arms to cover yourself as best you could to keep the pieces of the plate from getting stuck in your face or chest. Of course, your arms took most of the damage.
“I can't believe it, you're a fucking liar”, he exclaimed, removing with tweezers the pieces of the plate that had become embedded in your forearms.
“Bakugou… You're squeezing me...", you barely raised your gaze, holding back the pain and the urge to cry. Besides that, your clothes were covered in food scraps, the few clothes he had brought from your house were all gone, and you lived in constant terror that your body would cease to be yours at any moment.
“Shut the fuck up, this is your fault”, he raised his voice and you immediately lowered your gaze, like a domesticated dog, “If you stopped doing stupid things, everything would be easier, shittyhead”.
“I just… I didn't want to hear you making fun of the way I eat again”, when you said that, his grip on your arm disappeared. You glanced quickly at his face; he was no longer angry, but he looked thoughtful.
The next day he took charge of cooking, preparing your favorite meal. For a moment you were surprised that he knew that about you, but after a while you found it logical, since he always knew where you lived, where you studied after finishing high school and where you worked; it wouldn't be difficult for them to find out certain details about you. That caused you a certain rejection; his unhealthy obsession with you made no sense to you. The only answer you had was that you made him feel that way; that was his definition of being in love.
“Sit down”, He tried to say it as an invitation, but the tone came out more like an order, so you quickly sat down in the nearest chair. You clasped your hands in your lap as you looked at his back; you could see how some of the muscles in his back were more defined even though his t-shirt was loose-fitting, similar to the one you were wearing too. He insisted that you use some of his clothes until he washed yours, but what reassured you was that he never made any obscene gestures or comments, he even left the room so you could change in peace. “Is there something on my back?”, he asked without even turning around, your cheeks flushed as you were caught and you lowered your head to your lap, the bandages on your arms looked most interesting. He placed a plate in front of you and another on his seat, then sat down and waited for you to taste what he had cooked. You could feel his gaze fixed on you, like a predator waiting for you to make the exact move to pounce; you tried to grab the fork, but your hand was trembling too much. Not from the pain, because your arms did hurt from what had happened the day before, but you were trembling with fear of being ridiculed again, you poked a little bit of food and you wanted to bring it to your mouth, but the trembling was so intense that you had to abruptly drop the fork; you apologized for not being able to do something as insignificant as that.
“Does it hurt that much, princess?”, he asked, with a hint of disdain in the nickname, you nodded, preferring to lie rather than admit that you couldn't eat out of shame. “"Then I'll help you," you said, looking up in panic. He stopped immediately. "So how do you expect to eat? Unless you're lying to me again",you pursed your lips as you were caught again; he sighed, covering his face with his hand. You couldn't decipher what he meant in that mixture of a growl and a sigh. You took the opportunity to taste the food, but covered your mouth with your other hand, closing your eyes at that familiar sensation of pleasure. Believing he wasn't watching, you took another bite, but he was watching you through the spaces between his fingers; the image before him showed him how fragile you could be, and at the same time, it annoyed him that you drove him crazy without even trying. He started eating, exhausted, without saying a word or looking at you, sometimes only glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't help it if you were wearing his clothes and they made you look exaggeratedly smaller than him. Even though the clothes weren't tight-fitting, there were parts that were accentuated.
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When you finished eating, you went to the sofa to watch TV for a while before going to sleep, as always each one at one end of the sofa. You were curled up in that corner, it was your safe place, your head resting on your arms which served as pillows on the armrest, him with his legs spread and the remote in his hand We'd flip through channels until we found something we both wanted to watch. Before, you just had to be content with watching what he wanted; now he'd go out of his way to find your favorite shows. If he saw you look up at the television, he would leave that channel on until you made another move; if you looked down again, he would continue changing channels. He didn't need words to know what was going through your mind was a strange kind of communication they were having. Like the bond a dog has with its owner, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to hear your voice, your laughter, but he knew it was his fault you were like that, because whenever he heard you, his stomach would rumble and that made him sick, so his response was to tell you to shut up. But little by little he would take care of correcting each and every mistake he made with you; for now it was time to go to sleep.
"Come on, little girl, let's go to bed," he said, turning off the television. You'd usually stay up for another hour or two, but your schedule isn't your schedule anymore; it's the schedule he sets for you. Without objecting, you followed him to the room, sat on your side of the bed with your back to him; it always takes a while to get used to the cold sheets, although it had been somewhat warm these days, you always felt cold, you settled into bed curling up and felt every movement he made until he lay down. You jumped slightly when his hand wrapped around your waist and he held you tight. He just chuckled; it wasn't the first time he'd done it. He'd adopted this habit months ago, And again you couldn't do anything to stop it; your surprise wasn't because of the sudden hug, but because of the clash of temperatures, your body was always freezing, but his hands always emanated heat, that's why you had marks on your skin, that's why you felt like you were burning. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, subtle, relaxed, but the tension in his hand told you he was awake, and he wouldn't fall asleep until you did, even if it took him all night. The reason for that distrust is because of another habit you used to have, an idea that worked for you at least until the month after you were kidnapped.
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The first few nights were torture for you, firstly because you were used to sleeping alone, in your own bed and at your own time, so forcing yourself to sleep wasn't the best thing you could do. You often talk in your sleep, you have nonsensical conversations, sometimes you laugh, you get angry, all while you dream. One day, Katsuki mentioned that he woke up in the middle of the night because he heard you laughing and then talking. He stayed awake until you stopped making any noise.He wasn't accusing you, he wasn't scolding you, he just mentioned it because he was surprised, it was something he didn't know about you, but again, his intention didn't match his tone of voice and it seemed like a complaint. When he went to work, you started thinking about a way not to interrupt his sleep; you couldn't sleep all day only to stay up at night because that would make him angry, so the best idea you came up with was to look for places where you could sleep at night without disturbing him, places where you could fit and feel safe; the closet ended up being the winner.
Night fell and it was time to put your plan into action, when he fell asleep, and it was a good thing he came home exhausted from work, because it was one of the nights when he slept soundly You slipped out of bed in complete silence and into the closet. Your plan was this: wait every night until he fell asleep so you could slip into the closet and sleep until an hour before he usually gets up. And it worked, you managed to make the plan last as long as you could, he didn't notice at all during that time, for a whole month. But your peace never lasts forever, and the inevitable happened; for some reason you don't know, he got up in the middle of the night. Was it thirst? Did he need to use the bathroom? Or was it a nightmare? You don't know, and you won't know until he decides to tell you. But he woke up, turned over in bed to see if you were asleep, and to his surprise, you weren't there. He sat up abruptly and got out of bed in despair; his first thought was that you had escaped, but the window was closed and locked. Did you find the keys to the front door? He checked every possible exit from the house, nothing, everything was as he leaves it when you go to sleep. So where did you go? He checked under the table, in the bathtub, behind the sofa, under the bed, nothing, the only hiding place left was the closet. He flung the doors wide open, almost tearing them off, just as you woke up in fright. In the darkness, all you could make out were his red eyes and the fury they containedYou swallowed because your mouth was dry from fear, you wanted to speak but you only stammered, you expected him to yell at you or do something, but he was silent, a deathly silence.
His hands went to the collar of your shirt, practically lifting you up—something that didn't require much effort from him, but it would leave you scraped. Between screams and whimpers you begged him to let you go, he threw you onto the bed as if you were nothing. He got on top of you, grabbing your wrists with one hand. "YOU FUCKING BITCH!!" he said, tightening his grip on your wrists. "You love seeing me angry!", he said through gritted teeth. You could see small explosions coming from his hand as he moved it menacingly closer. "Please, Bakugou," you sobbed. "Please what?! I should kill you for everything you're putting me through!" he roared in your face. “I-I di-didn't want that… please…”, you whimpered from the pain of the grip, the circulation in your hands was being cut off, you heard more explosions accumulating in the palm of his hand. “I've had enough of you”, he said without shouting, without getting upset. You saw how he closed his hand into a fist and you closed your eyes waiting for the final blow, but you only felt the pillow next to you explode. Everything went silent and only your crying could be heard; fear prevented you from opening your eyes, not that you wanted to. Something fell beside you, slowly your wrists were freed as you heard his ragged breathing, part of his weight was on top of you, you could feel his chest rising and falling against yours. You didn't need to open your eyes to know you were trapped beneath him; you just tried to calm down, but your head was spinning. It felt like your heart was in your head; “I'm trying to do everything right…”, he said quietly, frustration evident in his voice, He sat up, giving you some space. Thanks to the little light coming through the window, he saw what he had caused: you were huddled up, your lips and eyes swollen from sobbing and crying. But when he tried to apologize for the harm, that's when he realized you had fainted.
That night he stayed awake with you in his arms, him sitting with his back against the headboard and you snuggled against his chest under the covers. His hands didn't overstep any boundaries at any point during the night. They only held you by the waist and lower back, he held you gently, because he always saw you that way, sometimes even unattainable, and perhaps if he made you something less divine, he might be worthy of you at some point.
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Now you're here, sharing the same roof, food, and bed with him; you accepted long ago that this isn't a horrible dream but reality. Although at first everything was hell, you both learned to accept each other's presence, especially you, it's been a while since he left his handprints on your skin or yelled at you; now, whenever he comes home from work, he brings you a gift: clothes, accessories, decorations, etc. You placed your hand on top of his and with your thumb you drew small circles on his back, that was the sign he was waiting for to approach her, not in a dangerous way, nothing sexual, he just wanted to be close. You felt his hand relax beneath yours, but also how with his other arm he subtly asked for permission, and when you barely raised your head he finally adjusted it and hugged you finally, with both arms; he buried his face in the nape of your neck, enjoying the smell of the shampoo in your hair.
And what else can you do but accept that this is your life now? You can't escape, you can't scream for help, you simply have to accept what is, because you know that something inside you is starting to like this life, He's starting to justify his actions, his way of being; something inside you, deep down, is starting to like the way he loves you madly now that everything is relatively peaceful.
This was my first time writing about Bakugou, and also the first character I've written about in My Hero Academia. I really enjoyed doing it. At first, I didn't have much faith in myself, but as I wrote the rest came naturally.
