Silhouette ✓ (⛔❤☁)

E I G H T

⚠︎ Nasty Time ⚠︎

It was a few minutes into lunch and Katsuki was on the roof. He felt odd. Normally these bad feelings lessened by Tuesday, which it was. What was wrong with him?

"Look who we have here. Mr. Big Talk" The recognizable voice of Monoma* reached his ears and he growled in disdain. The boy was right behind him.

"Weren't you fucking expelled?" Katsuki shot back

"Ah, but it seems Mr. 1-A Big Shot doesn't know"

"Know what, fuckwad?"

"You can't touch me" the 1-B boy sang. "But I~" -the copycat drew out his words- "can touch you"

Katsuki struggled when the boy grabbed his arms, but he was getting weak.

"Don't you like it?"Monoma laughed "I borrowed Mrs. Midnight's quirk!"

Katsuki growled, fighting the effects"Bastard"

"Don't worry, Ba~ku~go, I won't put you to sleep"

Katsuki resisted as much as he could, but the boy's hands roamed his body. No. He felt dirty. He already had his punishment this week.

"St-Stop" Katsuki tried to yell, although it came out like a whimper. The bastard laughed, just like the others. He started going numb, removing himself from the situation as much as possible. Like a routined play, his eyes dulled, looking into nothing as his body was defiled and dirtied, He could still feel it of course.

He could always feel it. every jerking thrust into his body, every wet kiss to his skin. Every word groaned out by his tainter, He knew it all, but as soon as they all registered, he tucked them away with the rest.

Like packing a suitcase with everything you own, It was bound to overflow and he knew that; he always knew that. He was always aware of the little suitcase in his mind. Always aware of the little zipper that was slowly tearing open. And he hated it, loathed it. Spent every moment despising that little suitcase.

And when it was done; Katsuki shoved the feeling of the warm wet substance back into the little suitcase. He sat there, not fully sure if he was actually sitting or laying until the quirk's effects, long wore off. When his five minutes before lunch ended timer went off, he sat up. Oh, he was laying. He looked himself over, starting with his legs and working his way up. like he always did. His pants were back up to his waist, but they were loose and stained. Continuing up, his shirt was unbuttoned and open. He fixated on a mark on his stomach, just under his ribs, a still red hickey.

Somehow, he could feel his little suitcase exploding open. He hunched over, sobbing. He couldn't stop, hysterically crying.

"Stop it please! I don't want this! I wanna be a hero!"

The sound of rushed footsteps never made it to his ears over the sounds of himself and his phone's alarm, which he never turned off. What did reach his ears was muffled shouting. Someone kneeled in front of him.

"Katsuki! Hey! Look at me!"

"I wanna be a hero! I wanna be a hero! I wanna be a hero!" He couldn't understand, why couldn't he be a hero? Why did he have to be so dirty, so disgusting. So defiled. He just wanted to be a hero. That's all he ever wanted.

"KIRISHIMA! GO GET AIZAWA!"

Katsuki grabbed his hair, pleading. He just wanted to be a hero. Please. Let him be one.

"Please! Please! Please! Please! Please!"

"KATSUKI!"

Something warm was on him. Touching him. So he pushed it away, and scratched at his skin.

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" He begged rubbing, scratching, clawing at the marks he could feel were there.

His eyes were shut tight. If he didn't see, it'd go away. Katsuki tried, so very hard, to shove everything back into the little suitcase. To make it stop.

He went silent for a scary moment and then forced a smile onto his face.

"It's okay. I'm okay. It's okay. I'm okay. It's okay. I'm okay" he said, keeping the faux smile on his face. It was fine. He was a villain. He deserved this. It was his fault after all. This time, when something warm touched him, he let it. He deserved it. It was okay. He was okay. 

*I just realized that Monoma has the same english voice actor as the main character in Trickster (a really good anime)

I'm really tired right now-- like really tired. And yes, I know there's like barely any good moments for Katsuki I'll write them when I write them; I'm just letting my sad little suitcase feed someone else's torture

Word Count: 750

((Grammar and Spelling fixed))