BNHA Oneshots + Imagines

Sickness (Chisaki Kai x Fem!Reader) (NSFW)

You're sick, and yet, Overhaul doesn't want to cure you.

The Yakuza is on his king-sized bed, stripped nude aside from his mask. On one pillow rests his head with his silky locks spread around the satin case and framing the top of his head like a mahogany-hued halo. On the other pillow rests his laptop, freshly wiped down and charged in preparation for tonight.

Kai feels his cock twitch with desperation at the same time that he shifts on the royal purple sheets beneath his soft, ivory skin. He knows he'll have to change those sheets and scrub himself raw in a hot, steamy shower until his skin burns red once this is over, but that's later. You, however, are right here and right now.

You're a professional hero with the quirk Pestilence; a horrific quirk that can be used to make others sick on your command. Overhaul has seen video after video of you using it, the effects ranging from afflicting your opponents with ailments ranging from small colds to deadly illnesses. It's curious that you became a hero instead of a villain with a quirk so violent and cruel. It's sick that you use it for such work, too, but for some reason you...

You're different from all the others to him. To him, you are a precious being, someone above the other heroes and even above him. He would do anything to have you, but he hasn't gone for it yet in fear of messing things up. There would be no point in revealing his love for you were you to reject him. Even though he has the power to take you to himself and keep you on his Yakuza's base, it wouldn't be the same as having you fall for him the way he wants. He wants you to be as obsessed with you as you are with him.

He does teeter the line sometimes, though, dressing as a civilian and going out to your conventions and fan meetings. You've seen him and he's seen you, but you don't know who he is or what he's done. It's a game he likes to play. He's bought your merchandise, interacted with you in person, and even received an autograph with you. He's debated on having that very autograph tattooed into his skin, but has since decided against it in fear of an infection. He does, however, keep the book you signed framed and in a drawer, away from any prying eyes or brutish hands who could taint it.

Pushing the thoughts of how long he's been chasing you for to another corner of his head, Kai plays the video that he has pulled up on his laptop for this specific occasion. It's become a nightly routine at this point. The video is nothing nefarious, either, just a compilation of your hero work that some pathetic hero fanpage put together and uploaded online. Kai gets off to it every night, ignoring the fact that it's hero work and embracing the fact that it's you . He reaches down and begins to stroke his red, leaking cock with one gloved hand. The other hand remains high on his chest. He pinches one nipple between his pointer finger and his thumb until it's hard enough for him to buck his hips up in pleasure before switching to the other nipple.

Kai's head remains still on the pillow. His golden eyes threaten to flutter shut with the intensity of sensation in his length from the thought of you, but he forces them to stay open to watch the video of you. He catches the perfect glimpse of your ass being hugged tightly by your hero costume. However, he can't keep his eyes open very long and opts to close them so he can come up with his own fantasies of you to get off to as he sets a steady rhythm of fucking his own closed fist.

In the forefront of Overhaul's mind are the normal fantasies; the ones where he whisks you away, convinces you to join him on his quest to restore the Yakuza and rid the world of the plague that is a quirk-infested society. You become the obedient queen to his king and listen to everything he says, allowing him to do as he pleases with you. On a normal night, he dreams of this alternate, unrealistic version of you that he's created and strokes his cock to the idea of this you begging to suck him off or ride him to completion- so pretty and perfect and submissive, the kind of partner that his minions and enemies would imagine him having.

But, somewhere deep in the back of his subconscious is the kind of fantasy that he chooses to indulge in very rarely, the kind of fantasy that he chooses to indulge in on this particular night. He imagines a more realistic version of you, capturing him for yourself and doing as you please, maybe even using your quirk on him. Overhaul doesn't want to be sick, he's been avoiding it for so long now, but to be made sick by you is an idea that he finds irresistible. He thinks of you in that pretty little (f/c) hero costume of yours, using your quirk on him.

And fuck , it's too much. Just the idea of you overwhelms Overhaul completely. Not even two minutes into the video, not even two minutes into his thoughts, and Overhaul is fucking losing it. Electricity shoots from his curled toes to the top of his sweat-plastered head until he moans to no one but himself and cums hard. Your name falls from Overhaul's lips- once, twice, thrice, and a few times after that- like it's a prayer to the god he's never believed in, or rather, a prayer to you, the goddess that's overruled him for so long now.

Kai spills out onto his own abdomen and shudders at the feeling of the scalding hot semen that covers his smooth skin and pools around his belly button. Once the post-nut-clarity hits, he can't help the shame and rage that proceed to wash over him. Then again, that's part of the rush that is experiencing you, isn't it?

Kai lets out a huff and stares up at the cream-colored ceiling. He's sweaty and naked and bare beneath no one's eyes but his own, and yet, he can't help but feel like you're judging him.

'How utterly disgusting,' the brunette thinks, running a gloved hand over his toned midsection to gather some of his cum. When he sees the opaque substance on the fingertips of the polyester gloves, Kai cringes to himself. A wave of nausea crashes upon him once he realizes that this is merely the result of what he's done, even if he knows that he'll do this exact thing tomorrow night and every other night after that, too. 'Fuck, I hate myself for this... What would you think if you knew about this, (y/n)? Would you embrace me like I've dreamt you would all this time? Or would you think of me as someone who's even sicker than you are?'

The room is cold. Overhaul removes his once pristine white gloves, now dirtied by the sweat and cum that coats them. He tosses them into the hamper, rises from his bed, and cleans himself up with a few wipes from the nightstand that are promptly put in his bedside trash can. After that, he removes his mask, strips his mattress of the soiled bedding, and clears his browser history before putting his computer away.

In a few moments, Kai will be in the shower, scrubbing his ivory skin until it's red and pink with antibacterial soap, and redressing so he can remake his bed, wash his laundry, and sanitize his room. For now, however, he bathes in the afterglow of you and your sickness.