Daganronpa Lemons

Japanese Jerk(ing)s

Kyoko looked casual as the wind felt ready to rip her bikini off her. A lacy black fabric that looked far too risqué on Kyoko. Thankfully, her icy demeanour before had prevented the hassle from being hounded for information on it. Somewhere in the distance, a blonde, pigtailed bitch laughing in surprise at how Kyoko had managed to put on a skimpier bikini.

'It's not too bad,' she thought to herself, taking in the cool air and fine with doing what she did best. Nothing, well, when others looked at her. Kyoko didn't feel the need to show off her thicc body, so she allowed the others to enjoy themselves while she retained the memory of this all.

A brief flash made her eyes turn as Kyoko felt eyes lay on her. It was subtle, but she pinned down the culprit. Kyoko would have ignored it, but it was different here. The foreign student's eyes moved onto her with the same hungry stare that a few others had sent to her, yet Kyoko never once repudiated it. She very much welcomed it with a smile on her face.

Sharp eyes traced their target's form. Priorities on her mind as she stayed her hand, lest there come a time to... dispose... of the target. It was cold-blooded, but the world that spun is one that continues on, even amidst tragedy. 'That choice depends on him.'

Y/N continued to stroll through the beach trip with great joy. He was a strange case, not even being ethnically Japanese, but Y/N had managed to net himself a place in Hope's Peak Academy. Y/N wasn't sure about travelling all the way to Japan, practically the other side of the globe, for education, but going to the Land of the Rising Sun—where anime and manga originates—sounded like a sweet deal. Why?

'GYAT DAMN!'

He really loves Asian women.

People will inevitably have different tastes when it comes to what arouses their interests. However, Y/N had always found a strange pull on him. One where not even a succubus could charm him unless they were Asian. How it happened? Y/N had no idea when, but all he knew was that he, for lack of a better term, had gotten yellow fever of the zesty kind.

The familiar feeling of an erection stirring into him as he watched a red-haired girl with freckles take a couple of pictures. Meanwhile, Y/N's eyes were glued towards her thighs. Any respect or reservations he had popping like bubbles. 'Those freckles look amazing on her. Hmm, I wonder if she has some on her butt?'

No sooner did this thought come into his mind, Y/N could not be in public any longer. His baggy trousers already beginning to inflate like a balloon. Head turning rapidly, Y/N saw one thing; everyone was present! It would have annoyed him had it not made sense, scratch that, it still annoyed him. Y/N was already the odd one out, but he did not want to be the hardened one out! There was only one thing to do: Nigerundayo.

Sprinting to safety—resulting in him taking a volleyball Akane spiked, which did at least protect Nagito's sandcastle—he caught his breath back. 'This is going to take some time,' Y/N lamented, rubbing his face and waiting for his bulge to go back into hiding. The boredom making him look out to see the beautiful Orientals that caught his fetish, but it would only prolong his cock cooldown due to getting turned on right away from looking at them, let alone that thinking about them incentivised his lust.

"You don't have to keep following me around!"

The gruff voice of the infamously dubbed "Baby Gangsta" was talking. Y/N still hadn't calmed his libido down, so he mostly took to resting and waiting for things to pass.

"I understand, young master."

The next voice triggered his attention. The cool, sharp voice had a gentle temperament to it, but the tempo of it was undeniable: The Ultimate Swordswoman, Peko Pekoyama. Hearing her voice was a joy to him, but that didn't matter. The tone sounded secret, so like any normal human being, Y/N was going to listen on their conversation without their consent.