#yandere kirishima eijirou

[ghostsy]

I really liked what you did kirishima , would it be ok to request Yandere kirishima who slowly falls for the reader ? Kinda like a spotted mind , a slow burn Yandere (seriously love what you did with Shinso their ) hope this ok if not no worries 💗

Hero Insurance

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, blackmail, misogyny, nsfw, smut, slight daddy kink, slight size kink, non-consensual implications

A/N: sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy!

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO X READER

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“When you stop smashing your way through half the city’s architecture, we will.” She didn’t look up from her clipboard to see the sheepish look washing over the hero’s face, cheeks nearly red as his hair, from previous exertion or embarrassment, she didn’t know–didn’t care.

She sighed, but turned to oversee the construction workers picking their way through the rubble–Jesus Christ, this was going to cost a fortune.

She sent a mental apology to the poor insurance accountants who she was sure were as sick of these heroes as she was–nevermind the half-rate villain being led away in chains somewhere in the background, yelling obscenities and threats and contributing significantly to her growing headache. Annoying.

He trailed after her, “Hey, uh,” She spared him a cursory glance, and he swallowed, “Let me…I can totally help pay for this; it’s uh…the manly thing to do.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to watch a crowd gather at the borders of the police tape secured around what was left of the building and its surrounding area. 

“That’s hardly necessary, sir–”

“We’ve been over this, call me–”

“Besides, if you were to personally pay for all the property damage you have committed, say, throughout your career,” She scribbled something down on the clipboard, before shoving it in his face, “You would owe the city approximately…this much.”

She swore his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and was internally amused as he leaned down and followed zero after zero after zero on the paper with his finger. He stood suddenly, clearing his throat, and avoided her gaze.

“Well, I…” He sighed, searching for the words, “I’m sure I could–”

“Oi! Shitty hair,” His savior came in the form of a familiar gravelly voice, “Get your ass over here! I’m sick a’ these damn reporters.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, he gave her a brief nod before hurrying off to the hoards of adoring fans. She rolled her eyes, turning back to inspect the damage. Well…another day, another massive disaster to fix.

.♡.

“I swear if I have to see that chick one more time,” He huffed, downing his drink, “‘M not sure my manhood could take it.”

“You talkin’ about the Ice Queen again?” He glanced towards the peppy blonde man shoving his way through the doors, and into the bar. 

“That insurance lady?” The black haired man at his side questioned, “Ain’t it the third time this month she’s been up your shit?” He laughed, “She must be hurtin’ for it, huh?”

He huffed, averting his gaze, “Hardly,” A shiver passed down his spine in remembrance, “Everytime I see her I feel like I’m getting scolded by my grade school teacher or something.” 

“Real sexy grade school teacher, though, huh?” The lightning blonde jeered.

He rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m the only hero who’s knocked down a building or two, right?” He turned to the other blonde who scoffed.

“Don’t look at me,” He downed a shot, “I avoid the bitch like the plague; I don’t need another asshole slappin’ me on the wrists fer doin’ my job–press does that for her.”

“I just…” He huffed, “I don’t like that she doesn’t like me,” He turned to his friends, “I’m…I’m a likable guy, aren’t I?”

He was met with laughs, making his cheeks burn as he groaned. He waited as they settled before downing another drink. The raven-haired man ruffled his hair in mock comfort.

“Guess you’ll find out just how likable at this year’s Hero Billboards, yeah?”

.♡.

The universe really did like playing some cruel jokes on him lately, huh? He stared up at the soulless glass building that towered over him–a few signatures missing from the insurance forms. Ha. Of course. Hero work ain’t always takin’ down bad guys and savin’ princesses in their towers, kids.

He huffed, and forced himself inside, hands clenching and unclenching as he stood in the elevator, watching the floors climb. In and out.

God, why was he so nervous? A flash of those dull, condescending eyes; he was surprised she hadn’t turned him to stone the second she’d met his gaze. Weren’t women supposed to be meek and soft?

The lady at the reception desk had certainly seemed so; the way she batted her eyelashes, voice coated in sugar–yeah, that made sense to him–when they looked at him all starry-eyes and empty heads.

He tried to imagine the Ice Queen like that–she did have pretty eyes–what would happen if she looked at him with something other than irritation–nope, too creepy, get that out of my head.

He passed by the main room: dozens of nameless heads and shoulders, hunched over their desks, typing away at computers from within their gray cubicles. Depressing. Turning down a hallway he was met with a row of doors–where was her office, again?

The sound of laughter cut through his thoughts. Children’s laughter? As if on cue, a rush of tiny, unsteady footsteps padded across the floor and straight into him–well, his legs. A soft thud and ‘oof’ brought his gaze down.

“I’m sorry! So sorry, Mister Hero!” A small boy was rubbing his head from his fallen place back on the floor. He stood, brushing himself off, before placing his small hands against the man’s legs, mimicking a sort of soothing motion.

“So sorry. This feel better? All better now?” 

He went to respond, but a familiar click of heels interrupted, and the Ice Queen was standing in front of him, leaning down to face the child as a sigh escaped from her lips.

Before she could speak he opened his mouth; he really didn’t want to watch her scold the little boy for being…well, a little boy, “It was an accident,” He ruffled the child’s hair, and the latter giggled, “Really, no harm done.”

She glanced up at him from her position crouched on the floor, brows furrowing as her head tilted in confusion, before turning back to the child, “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” 

Oh? This was strange. The look on her face wasn’t stern, and her voice was quieter, softer. Kind of…sweet? He must be hearing things.

“Nope!” The boy popped his ‘p’, giving a big, toothy smile, “But Mister Hero got a boo boo; you gotta kiss it better!”

His face burned. It was hard to imagine anyone, forget that it was a child, talking so warmly with the woman in front of him.

“Mister Hero’s a tough guy,” She told the boy, “Besides, I can only kiss your boo boos better.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” She stood, taking his small hand in her own, “Really. But if you keep running off like that, I’ll run out of kisses. So be more careful. We have to save them for when you really need ‘em, okay?”

“Okay!” 

She turned to face him, clearing her throat as she averted her gaze. No. She couldn’t be. Was the Ice Queen, of all people, flustered? 

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” She muttered, bowing slightly before motioning with her head towards an office door in the far corner, “I have all the documents in my office; shouldn’t take long.”

He blinked, opening his mouth to respond, but she turned on her heel, shoes clicking down the hallway as the little boy swung their interlocked hands to and fro. Cute. 

She held the door open for him, though he still had to hunch as he walked through the opening. He took in the scene: neat mahogany desk, floor to ceiling windows, shelf, children’s toys littering the floor–children’s toys? The little boy detached from the woman, diving towards one of the brightly colored stuffed animals. 

The man maneuvered his way towards the desk, slipping slightly when his foot met a toy car. She caught his arm, eyes still avoiding his own, and her face twisted in a frown.

“The daycare closes early on weekends, no one to watch him, I–” She swallowed, arm pulling from his own the second he collected himself, “It’s not usually this messy,” She huffed the words as if they were shameful to admit before composing herself, shaking her head a bit. “The papers are on the desk.” She ushered him forward, sifting through her drawers before taking out a pen, pressing it into his hand.

He cleared his throat, nodding, “It’s–That’s fine,” He leaned down to sign, striking up conversation to fill the painful silence between them, “Is this your, uh, is this your son?”

She shot him a sharp look, and he was sure if looks could kill he’d burst to flames that very moment. He swallowed, flipping the page to add another signature. Through his periphery, he caught sight of a look exchanged between the woman and child before she sighed.

“Yes.” He waited a moment for her to continue only to be met with silence. Wow. A real open book, wasn’t she?

Flipping through the pages, he double checked the signatures. Sighing, he stood, nodding to her, “Sorry about that, thought the agency’d taken care a’ all the paperwork.”

She rolled her eyes, gathering them in her hands, scanning through the pages before taking something from her desk drawer, and stamping the top page. Setting it in a file on the desk, she met his gaze.

“Thank you,” She cleared her throat, “In the future, hopefully we don’t end up in a situation needing to fill out more paperwork.”

Geez, that's cold. “Yeah, uh, sorry again.” He turned to leave, but a tug on his pant leg caught his attention.

“Hey, hey, Mister Hero,” The little boy waved a toy car in his hand, “Wanna play cars?”

“He has things to do, baby,” The woman interrupted, “I can play with you all you want later.”

“But you’re working now!” He huffed, “Please, please, just for a little–”

“I don’t mind.” He surprised himself and her with the words, but a glance to the little boy’s face brought a smile to his own. He always did like kids.

She looked between them, hesitant, teeth chewing her lip before speaking, “It’s really–you don’t have to. Really, it’s–it’s okay.” Who knew she could sound sheepish. He was learning a lot about the Ice Queen today, it seemed.

He plopped on the floor, cross legged as he took the car handed to him, flashing her a smile, “You kidding?” He turned back to the child, “I love playin’ cars.”

The little boy squealed in delight, and in his periphery he caught sight of a soft look in her eyes, “Thank you.” It was quiet, but the ghost of a smile on her face made something in his chest do a little jump.

.♡.

“You received a package from the insurance agency today, sir.”

He glanced towards his secretary, brows furrowed. God, what did he do this time? He rubbed a hand down his face, groaning, but she continued.

“It’s strange,” She tapped her chin, “There was a note attached; I think it was from that lady that doesn’t like you,” A mischievous smile on her lips, “I left it on your desk.”

“Great. Thanks.” He trudged down the hallway to his office; it was too early in the morning for this.

As he pushed the door open he caught sight of it: wrapped neatly in red colored paper, a thin ribbon tying it together. Huh. There was a neat little note attached, his hero name written in pretty cursive on the front. 

Please accept this food as thanks.

I appreciate you humoring my son; he really enjoyed spending time with you.

He also wanted me to inform you that you’ve become his new favorite hero.

I was unaware of your food preferences, but I hope this is sufficient.

Only the Ice Queen could manage to make such a kind gesture seem impersonal. Still, he found himself smiling; underneath all that frost and cold she really was a cute little thing, wasn’t she? It was signed with her name at the bottom, and he realized he hadn’t known it until now; it was kind of pretty, he thought.

He pulled the ribbon from the box, and the paper fell away to reveal a neatly stacked bento box. Peeling the top layer, he was met with a mouthwatering smell. Meat. Fancy little dishes prepared delicately, with care. The other levels contained vegetables and sweets, all meticulously decorated. It was a practical gift, he supposed, but still, she’d taken the time to cook him a meal.

How…womanly of her.

.♡.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She didn’t think she’d ever sprinted so fast in her life, sure she might break a heel, though, not entirely bothered considering the circumstances. A villain attack. At a goddamn preschool. At her son’s goddamn preschool. Fuck.

There it was. Cordoned off with yellow police tape, a crowd was gathering outside the gates, reporters or parents or both, she didn’t really care.

“Kenta! Kenta! My son–have you seen my son? Please–” She elbowed her way to the front of the crowd, flagging down a police officer stationed outside.

“Ma’am, please step back. There is an active villain threat in–”

“My son’s in there, please.”

“There are a lot of parents here; if you’d just step back–”

There was a crash that sounded like a wrecking ball hitting pavement, and everyone watched with bated breath as one of the walls to the building crumbled away, bricks splitting and breaking from the force.

As the dust settled, she watched as a massive figure stepped from the rubble. Wait a minute. Is that…? He was carrying kids from his arms and shoulders, some hanging on with their hands as they dangled from his limbs–he looked like a fucking jungle gym–

“Mama! Mama! Look who’s here!”  The unmistakable voice of her son pulled her from her thoughts. From atop the hero’s shoulder, Kenta was waving his arms, giggling as he called to her.

“All clear!” The man shouted, a sharp, toothy smile on his lips as he scanned the crowd, motioning with his head to the nearly collapsed building behind him, “He’s passed out in the southeast classroom, figured I’d gather the kids first.”

The police made their way into the building as he kneeled down to let the children race from the rubble, and into the arms of their parents. She ducked under the yellow tape, eyes set on the little boy sat on the hero’s shoulder.

“Heh. Sorry ‘bout the wall; couldn’t help the –oof!”

Without thinking, she threw her arms around his shoulders, on her tiptoes as she embraced her son, the other hand hooked around the man’s neck, pulling him downwards a bit into a hunch, so that she could reach.

She was shaking a little, and he wasn’t entirely sure where to put his hands, though, glad that she couldn’t see the red creeping up his neck and cheeks. Awkwardly, one of his hands came to pat her on the back, which seemed to bring her back to reality as she stumbled a bit aways from him.

She cleared her throat, holding out her hands, and he shifted so that the boy could shuffle into his mother’s arms.

She checked his face for marks, “Are you okay?” Inspecting his arms for any signs of cuts or bruises, “Did you get hurt?”

He gave a bright smile, “I’m okay!” He giggled a bit, and she set him down, letting him bounce in excitement on the ground, “You shoulda seen it, Mama! He was so cool; the bad guy was like–” He made an angry face, squaring his shoulders, and growled as he brought his hands into a fighting pose, “But then, but then, boom! And then–”

“I want to hear all about it, baby,” She smiled, “But let’s get you home first, yeah? You’ve got dirt all over you.”

“Mhmm mhmm, okay! But it makes me look cool, right?” 

“Super cool,” She turned to the hero now, and he swallowed, willing the heat to die on his cheeks, “I’m sorry that I just–I didn’t mean to throw myself on you, but really, what you did–”

“Just the job,” He smiled, hand coming to sheepishly scratch his head, “Happy to do it, honest.”

“No,” she corrected, and he found himself holding his breath as he studied the intensity in her stare. But he didn’t feel like she’d turn him to stone; he kind of felt…warm? “Thank you. Really. I can’t ever repay you for this.”

“Well, you’re probably gonna have to deal with the insurance money and rebuild, so just add it to my tab, and I’ll call us even, yeah?”

There was a small smile on her face, “Consider your tab cleared.” Was his heart pumping so loudly from the adrenaline or because the quirk in her lips made her whole face brighter? Was that her quirk? Could she speed up his pulse, so that his heart beat out of his chest?

He went to say something, but the sound of his hero name being shouted over the police tape–reporters–interrupted. 

He sighed, giving her a nod, “Well, duty calls,” He gave her one more glance as he walked away, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you?” It sounded casual, but he found himself suddenly nervous.

“Well, if you keep smashing your way through half the city’s architecture, you will.” He didn’t know she had a sense of humor, but, spotting the playful glint in her eyes, he found it kind of…cute.

.♡.

“There’s someone here to see you, sir,” His secretary called as he stepped from the elevator, “It’s that insurance lady, again.” She wiggled her eyebrows a bit in teasing, and he found his face warming as he avoided her gaze. Another bento, maybe? 

“Thanks, uh, you can let her in.”

“Oh, I already did,” There was a smug smile on her face, “She’s in your office.”

He groaned, ignoring her cheeky laugh as he made his way into his office. 

“Oh!” She called after him, “The Commission called. They wanna know if you’re confirming for the Hero Billboards?”

He nodded, waving his hand in placation, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Pushing the door to his office open, he found himself staring at her profile; she was half turned away from him, gazing out the floor to ceiling windows, and he almost didn’t want to say anything, lest he disturb the peaceful look on her face. 

His eyes wandered her figure; she really was a woman, wasn’t she? In every sense of the word. Remembering how she felt in his arms, soft too. Soft and small and pretty and womanly. His hands itched at his sides. How would it feel to hold her? 

Squeezing the skin of her waist, brushing his thumbs over the bones of her hips; it’d be so easy to pick her up, hands sliding down a bit further, throwing her legs around his waist; she was already against the window; what other expressions could he see on her face, then? Shaking himself from his thoughts, he felt a bit embarrassed. But, he was a man; it was normal to think like this about a woman, right?

She caught sight of him as she turned, and immediately a new look took over her face; it wasn’t an expression he entirely enjoyed, however. She looked agitated, upset, and she squeezed at the fat of her arms as she crossed them, nervous.

“We need to talk.” She pulled something from her purse, unfurling it to reveal a tabloid magazine. More specifically, a picture slapped on the cover: the two of them embracing outside the pre-school, his hand placed on her back, making it look like an altogether domestic scene.

And the title: “THE STURDY HERO BREAKING DOWN WALLS AND BREAKING HEARTS; DON’T RIOT, GIRLS, BUT HE’S TAKEN!” Real creative.  

He swallowed his nerves, laughing off the tension, “Yeah, I heard about that,” Avoiding her gaze, “I’m real sorry–the tabloids just print whatever sells, ya know?”

“Can you have them retract it?” He was almost offended with how quick she was to shoot it down, “Please,” Sensing his nerves, she sighed, gathering her thoughts, “Kenta is…He’s not ready for this, even if it is just tabloid gossip. Please, can you ask them to retract it?” 

“I–”

“Or if not,” She began pacing, “Can you do an interview? Before this gets out of hand, it’d be best to clear things up.” 

He approached her, taking her by the arms lightly to stop her pacing. She pulled from his grip, but stood still. He scanned her face as he looked down at her, and a thought too selfish crossed his mind. No. Don’t go there.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” He soothed her; this would be fine, “I’ll tell the press; you don’t gotta worry.” 

She let out a sigh of relief, and he bit his tongue. Was it manly of him to just let it lie? In all those romance movies he watched, the guy always fought for the girl. He used whatever elaborate plots he could to show her he was the one. And, I mean, maybe it’d be good for both of them. He needed to figure out why he couldn’t look her in the eyes without imagining bending her over the nearest surface anymore.

“But,” He avoided her gaze, “I, uh, geez, this is embarrassing.”

She tilted her head, but motioned for him to continue.

“The, uh, you know the Hero Billboards are coming up soon?”

 “Yes,” She squared her shoulders as her gaze turned suspicious, “What about it?”

“I think if, well, if I ask for a retraction before, it might tank my popularity ranking,” He swallowed, “Which, totally, is just a number–and not a big deal–I just, would you mind…is it unmanly of me to ask you if we could wait until it’s over to tell the press?” 

There was a beat of silence, and he cursed himself in his mind. Of course she’s gonna say no. It’s the Ice Queen we’re talkin’ about. Just cause she’s got a kid, and she makes a killer tori katsu, and her ass bounces when she–

“Okay,” She sighed. What? She met his gaze, nodding, “I did say I could never repay you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

“But, um,” She swallowed, “Kenta was asking about you,” Avoiding his gaze, she cleared her throat, “Do you think you could, um, do you think you could take him out on patrol? Even just once, I think he’d…if it’s not too much trouble–”

God, she was fucking adorable. 

“You kidding?” His lips split in a wide grin, “I’d be honored. He’s, uh, he’s a good kid. You’ve done good.”

“It’s a deal, then.” There was that soft smile again, and on cue, his heart sped its rhythm.

“It’s a deal.”

.♡.

The office felt strangely empty after she left. He couldn’t focus. The lights were too bright. His chair was lumpy. The font on the paperwork was too small. His pants didn’t fit right. Oh. His pants didn’t fit right. 

He glanced around the office. It was fine, right? It’d just take a moment. Be real quick. Just to ease the tension. It’d help him focus after, for sure.

Fuck it. 

He stood suddenly, shutting the blinds to his office; he was pent up. It was her fault to begin with, really. Settling into his chair, he let out a breath, hand creeping under the waistband of his pants, fingers trailing down from the black hairs to grip at the pulsating, desperate source of his current agony, feeling near immediate relief as he began to stroke.

He wanted to take her against the window, didn’t he?

Her thighs squeezing his waist as his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, cock buried to the hilt inside what was undeniably warm and tight and hers. He’d fuck her deep and slow at first. Savor the feel of her wrapped around him. Make what she thought was hers irrefutably his; mold her pretty cunt to the shape of him. He wouldn’t be able to keep the pace though, ramming her against the glass walls for all of Japan to see, to hear her scream his name. How would she sound if he sunk his teeth into her neck? What would she call him?

Baby? 

Love? 

Daddy?

“Oh, fuck.” His thumb stroked the angry red tip threatening to burst in his pants, tightening his vice-grip, fingers flexing along the length. Up and down and up and down to the rhythm he’d fuck her to. Faster and Faster. Harder and harder.

Daddy, please! She’d take her lip between her teeth, try and fail to stifle the sounds he was forcing from her throat. A hand tangled in his hair, tugging to find some sense of relief as he hauled her over his desk to play with the jewel between her legs. 

He’d leave a trail of bruises down her chest; take one of her pretty tits in his mouth, playing with the nipple on his tongue. Hips snapping roughly into hers as he felt her pulse quicken, breath choked as her hands came to clutch his shoulders, nails sinking in to ease the tension.

He’d make her beg for it.

“Tell Daddy what you want.” His eyes fell closed, hips bucking into his fist as he imagined it. He’d take his hand to her throat, fingers twitching at the feel of her pumping veins, thumb tracing her jaw as he watched doe eyes dilate. Lose all thought save for anything that had to do with him, and how he was fucking her, and how that feeling pooling in her gut was something only he could give her. 

Please, Daddy, please! Let me cum. Can I cum? 

She’d cry, pretty tears pooling in her eyes as she tried to hold on. Obey him. Please him. Cum for him. All for him.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? You think you deserve it?”

Yes! Please, Daddy! Please!

Her tits would rock from the force as his desk creaked to the rhythm below them. His tongue darting out to lick at his sharp, drooling canines, completely enamored with the feast moaning prettily underneath him.

He’d lean down, forcing his lips onto hers as his tongue explored inside, devouring the sounds from her throat. And he’d pull back once he was sure he could feel her tighten around him, hot air brushing against her lips when he finally released her.

“Cum for me, baby.”

He’d watch her eyes cross, mouth falling open as the knot in her stomach snapped. That Ice Queen exterior melted and soft and grateful. She’d whimper, and look up at him from under her butterfly lashes with hazy, pleasure-drunk eyes, lips bloated and hair sprawled beneath her like an angel’s halo.

“What do you say, baby?”

Thank you, Daddy. I love you.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He bit his lip, brows furrowing as the slick on his hand made his gut start to tingle. Fuck. His shoulders slumped as he caught his breath, surveying his mess. That’s alright, he thought.

It was her job to clean up his messes, wasn’t it?

.♡.

“Oh,” She blinked as she opened the door, “What time is it? Wasn’t I supposed to meet you at your office?” 

Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder to a wall clock in the living room. He huffed an apologetic laugh, doing his best to ignore the way the apron wrapped snugly around her waist hugged her curves, and the splotches of flour that reminded him of the labors of a dutiful housewife.

“Nah, you’re good,” He motioned with his head to the boy sitting atop his shoulders, one hand steadying the child, “Kenta was hungry, and there isn’t much ‘sides energy drinks and granola bars at the agency.”

“We saw a whole buncha bad guys, Mama! They were tryna rob the bank, and–”

“You were inside a bank during a robbery?” He caught the sharp turn in her voice, and was quick to correct the child.

“He was safe behind the barricades,” She stepped aside to let them in, “Got a front row seat, right buddy?”

“Mhmm!” He set the child down, and Kenta raced towards the kitchen, “Smells good! What’s for dinner?”

They shared a look as she shut the door, and let out a sigh, “Thank you,” She swallowed, “I’m…He looks like he had fun, so I’m really–”

“Don’t mention it,” He smiled, “Next week’s patrol route should be safer if he wants to tag along.”

“That’s–you really don’t need to…” Was the flush on her face embarrassment or, or was he finally starting to chip that icy exterior? “Are you sure it’s–”

“Oh yeah,” He glanced towards the boy sifting through cabinets in the kitchen, “Kenta’s my number one sidekick, right?”

“Mm!” The boy turned towards them, face stuffed with some pastry as he hummed.

“Kenta!” She scurried over to him, shutting the lid to the cookie jar, “We’re just about to have dinner; don’t go ruining your appetite!”

“‘M not!” He stifled a laugh as he watched the boy cross his arms petulantly, “I got two stomachs; one for food and then a whole ‘nother big one for desert!”

She smiled lightly as she watched him shove two fingers in her face before putting her hands up in mock concession, “Oh, well, it’s a pity that Mama’s only got one stomach then, huh?” Making her way over to the impressive spread on the dining room counter, “I better dig in while I can.” 

She plucked a piece of sushi from one of the platters, and he swallowed as he watched her push it between her lips with her fingers, tongue brushing over the tips as she pulled them from her mouth. He tried to will himself to look away, though, she was entirely too focused on the little boy now jumping for the sushi platter to bother with his own leering.

“Not if I do first!” He watched as the boy practically inhaled the food, attention drawn back at the sound of light laughter. Her hand was covering her mouth, but the twinkle in her eye sent lightning into his heart. Pretty.

He huffed a sigh to calm his racing pulse, “Guess I’ll leave ya to–”

“You gotta stay for dinner!” Face stuffed full with an array of food, Kenta’s words were muffled, “Right, Mama?”

He glanced towards her, taking in her hesitant features. Not yet.

“Ah. That’s alright, I don’t–”

“Stay,” He was taken aback by the softness of the word, “I mean…if you’d like, as a thank you for taking Kenta out, stay.”

Fuck. This woman would be the death of him.

.♡.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” She looked at him through the corner of her eye as she handed him another wet dish to towel off.

“Nah, I owe ya for that killer dinner,” He paused, “Come to think of it; I owe ya for the bento too, Ms. Pro Chef.”

She rolled her eyes playfully before turning back to the sink, and the two settled into a comfortable silence before she paused, mouth twisting a bit as her brows furrowed.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for Kenta,” She let out a sigh, turning to face him as she shut the tap, “But um, this is, a bit…” She motioned around the kitchen, the wholly domestic scene, “Hero Billboards or not, the two of us aren’t actually…”

He watched as she struggled to find the words, “‘Course not,” Stamping out the sprouting disappointment in his chest, he plastered on that hero smile, “But what’s a dinner between friends, right?”

He watched as the trepidation melted off her face. Was the thought of being with him really that bad? Shaking himself from his thoughts he sighed as he watched her maneuver behind him to start reshelving the cutlery and plates.

“Yeah. Friends.” She sent him a soft smile, and he found himself the slightest bit surprised that it hadn’t melted his heart on cue. He wanted more.

She was bent over the counter in a way too sinful to be a coincidence. Was she testing him? Waiting for him to take initiative, prove to her that he was a man? He wouldn’t leave her high and dry the way so many others in her life seemed to–he could be that guy for her.

Eyes trailing to the swell of her backside, he spotted her dress lifted slightly at the fat of her thighs. Would she look at him then? If he took her by the hair, forced her cheek to the counter, smushed her pretty tits against it, and ripped the cotton panties down her legs?

He was sure, looking down at her; she was so small. She’d fucking wail when he forced his cock through her walls. Maybe he could see himself poking through under the skin of her stomach: full of him.

He’d destroy her.

Ruin her for anyone and everyone else. How many times had she chided him for his reckless behavior, for the destruction his hands had wrecked?

He’d repay her tenfold. Those hands could do more than destroy. They’d make her cum again and again and again. Until the only thought running through her mind was him and how good he was fucking her and how goddamn grateful she was to be fucked by, to be loved by, him.

The call of his name brought him back from his thoughts, and he looked over to meet her concerned eyes. 

“Are you alright?” She closed the gap between them, and lifted to her toes, tapping his shoulder to bring him down a bit before she pressed her hand to his forehead, “You’re a little flushed; are you sick?”

Well, with you this close to me, I fucking might be.

He straightened suddenly, “Nah,” Letting out a sheepish laugh, “Must be the long hours. Hero work ain’t always the most forgivin’, I guess,'' He huffed a sigh, “I should get goin’ though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She watched as he made his way to the door, “Okay.”

“I’ll be by some time to take Kenta out on patrol, if that’s still alright?”

She nodded as he slipped his shoes on, and was left a bit confused at the abrupt close to the evening with the click of her front door falling shut.

He let out a breath as he closed the door, leaning against the wood to regain his composure as his hand ran through his hair. He could do this. He stretched his arms over his head as he headed down the steps of her porch. 

The cold night air soothed the warmth in his cheeks, but it seemed that a fire more insatiable had been lit in his chest. He strolled casually down the sidewalk, eyes trained up at the grinning moon, making sure to hide the mirroring smirk that pulled at his lips as the camera flashed from the bushes. Right on cue.

.♡.

“I need to get a new secretary.” He joked as he shut the door to his office, catching sight of the woman in his office.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Her mouth was set in a line, hands pulling nervously at her sleeves as her arms crossed.

What? 

She began pacing, “I’m really sorry,” She avoided his gaze, “I know you’ve done a lot for Kenta, for me, and I can pay you back with however much you–”

“Woah, woah,” He approached her, stopping her nervous pacing, “What’s goin’ on? Tell me what happened.”

She sighed, looking up to meet his gaze, and he noticed for the first time eye bags forming on her face.

“Paparazzi are showing up to Kenta’s preschool,” She huffed, “Taking pictures of him playing outside, trying to ask him questions.”

His eyebrows raised a bit in shock, but he softened his gaze, “I’m so sorry,” He went to guide her to sit down, “I’ll take care of it, promise.”

He didn’t like where this was going. So she wasn’t in love with him yet. Okay. He just needed more time. She couldn’t leave.

She pushed his hand off her shoulder, “It’s not just that,” She swallowed, “They’re everywhere, at my office, at the daycare, anywhere we fucking go; they’re even showing up at the house.”

“It’s oka–”

“How do they even know where I live?” Her brows knit together, “You know there are pictures of you leaving? At night?”

“I didn’t–” 

“Do you know how indecent that makes me look?” She rubbed her hands down her face, breathing out his name, “I’m already a single mother; I don’t need the entirety of Japan questioning any more of my integrity, certainly not questioning my son.”

Wouldn’t most women be flattered by the attention? Whatever; he needed to end this before it got out of hand.

“You’re right,” He placated, “Look,” He sighed, “The Hero Billboards are next week,” Just a little longer and they’d be there; she just wasn’t ready yet, “We only gotta have one more public appearance, and–”

“Public Appearance?” Her voice turned sharp, “You want me to be your fake date, in front of the whole country, just so you can save your ranking?” Her eyes flashed in accusation, “Have you been listening to what I–”

“Enough,” Fuck, he was getting fed up. Didn’t she know how much he cared about her? How much he did for her? “I have been listening; it’s your turn.”

“Excuse me–”

He stepped forward, backing her against the window, and an uneasy look settled on her face. Was this what it took? He just needed to show a little dominance. Be the man. And she would listen. He placed his hand above her on the glass as he leaned down.

“One more week,” Bringing his other hand to her face, one finger outstretched, “That’s all I’m askin’.”

She went to open her mouth, but he shushed her. Oh. This felt kinda good. The way she was looking at him. Hanging on to his every word because, right now, he had the power. 

“I’m not done,” He breathed, “One more week. I’ll take care a’ the paparazzi. I’ll take care a’ everything. So–”

Her mouth twisted, a conflict growing in her eyes, but she forced the words in spite of it, “I don’t need you to take care of it. I don’t need you to take care of me. I need you to–”

“Oh, you don’t?” His tone turned mocking, and his teeth bit into his lip as he watched her swallow, “Let’s ask Kenta how much he needs me, why don’t we? You really gonna–”

“You are not his father.” The words were firm, but the tensing of her shoulders betrayed her, and he leaned closer.

“I’m the closest thing he’s got, baby.”

The shock washed over her features before settling on anger. Cute. She pushed him off her. Well, he let her. She was such a weak little thing, after all.

“So this is who you are?” She scoffed, “This,” She motioned between them, “Is over. I refuse to entertain whatever misogynistic tirade you’ve decided to indulge in.” Okay. Less cute. 

She made her way to the door, glancing briefly over her shoulder, “Do not attempt to contact me or my son again.” And she was gone.

Well shit. 

His tongue smacked against his teeth as he kept his gaze on the door. He was tryna show her that he was the man. He could take care of her, of everything. All she had to do was shut the fuck up and let him. Does she know how many women would kill for that? 

He’d earned it. He’d done so much. He’d tried being patient. Tried to go at her pace. Be a gentleman. But, he realized, brats don’t want gentlemen. That’s what she was after all. What she’d always been, he realized. Ice Queen. Queen? The thought made him want to laugh now.

Is that what she wanted? For him to take her over his knee, smack that pretty ass ‘till it was black and blue? Make her cry for her Daddy? Put her in her goddamn place; wash out all her sharp, angry words with his cock shoved down her throat. 

Force her to her knees? 

Okay. He could do that.

.♡.

“What do you mean someone picked him up?”

“Well,” The preschool teacher swallowed nervously, “He said that you had–”

“He?” Her blood went cold, and in a quiet voice, she breathed his name in question.

“Yes!” The other woman smiled, “So you did approve of–”

She didn’t hear the rest of the words, blood rushing in her ears. She felt sick. What was going on? What kind of joke was this? She stumbled her way out of the gates, collapsing against them outside. Nauseous. 

She tried to calm her breathing. He was still a hero. A fucking asshole with no sense of boundaries. But a hero. Right? 

She took her hands to her cheeks, smacking herself to calm down. She let out a breath, swallowing the tears as she fumbled through her purse for her phone. 

Ring ring! Ring ring! Ring–

“He–”

“Where do you get off?” She couldn’t help the words that spilled from her throat, “Kenta is my son; what you’re doing is essentially kidna–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” She could hear the smugness in his voice, and cursed herself for allowing herself to think for one second he might have been a decent human being. 

“Where is–”

“Is that Mama?” She heard the excited voice of her son, and her breath hitched.

“Kenta? Kenta! Where are–”

“Yup!” He interrupted, “Don’t worry, bud. We’ll be seein’ Mama real soon, right?”

“Mhmm!” Came the muffled reply. So she wasn’t on speaker. Good.

“If you don’t tell me where he is right now,” The words were shaky, “I’ll call the fucking cops.”

There was a beat before a deep, baritone laughter filled her ears. He sighed, and she could feel the goddamn smile on his face.

“Hey, Kenta!” He called, “You wanna tell Mama what we’re doin?”

“S’ a surprise!”

“Hear that?” He turned back to the phone, “It’s a surprise. Don’t you worry, Mama,” He exhaled a bit through his nose, “We’ll be home for dinner.”

“What are you–”

And the line went dead.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking goddamn shitfuck. 

She was shaking with anger as she lowered the phone, scared that if she so much as breathed she’d scream so loud it’d bulldoze half of Tokyo.

What the fuck was she going to do?

.♡.

There was a knock at the door, and she ripped it open, shocked it hadn’t fallen from the hinges. She looked up to meet his eyes, something playful twinkling in them. Did he think this was a joke? 

“Mama, Mama!” Her gaze was pulled down to the little boy clutching the man’s hand, “Guess what? Guess what?”

“Ah,” He sighed, “Remember, bud. It’s a super special surprise.”

Kenta looked up at him as if realizing something before humming happily. She swallowed as she glanced between them, settling her gaze on the hero.

“Kenta,” Eyes still locked with burning red, “Why don’t you go clean up before dinner?”

“Mkay!” And he bounded off towards his room. When she heard the slam of his door, she let out a sigh, and swallowed, steadying her nerves.

“What the absolute fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Language, sweetheart.” He sidestepped her, making his way inside, shutting the door behind him. 

“Lang–?” He wasn’t serious, “Who do you think you—”

“Shouldn’t curse in front of Kenta,” He smiled, “It’ll teach him bad habits, y’know?”

Oh my god she’d never wanted to punch someone as much as she did now. She forced herself to breathe before settling.

“You don’t need to worry about Kenta’s habits,” He yawned, and she fought the urge to scream, “I want to know what you’re doing in my house, picking my son up from school like you–”

“That’s a funny way a’ sayin’ thank you for the favor.” 

“Are you–”

“I know how busy you get,” He moved towards her, and she took a step back, and another until she hit the wall. Not again. “Wanted to give you a break. What’s the harm in that?”

He was looking down at her like that again. Like there was a game they were playing where only he knew the rules. Where he was winning. 

“The harm,” She forced herself to speak, “Is that I gave you explicit instru–”

“Y’know,” He leaned back a bit, head tilted to the ceiling before snapping his eyes back to her, “Women are so complicated. Never sayin’ what you mean, what you need–” 

“Let me be very clear, then,” She breathed, “Get out.” 

He looked at her a moment, and she cursed the universe for not gifting her an invisibility quirk. Any quirk, actually. She was sure that, if he wanted, he could kill her without so much as blinking.

And then he laughed. She stood, frozen, studying his expression before his lips fell into a smirk. In a flash, his hand met her throat, squeezing the air from her lungs, and lifting her to her tiptoes. Her own hands flew up to claw at his, choking on her breath. His face was in front of hers, nose to her own.

“I’m gettin’ real sick of bein’ told what to do,” The edges of her vision were going black as his hot breath met her face, “I think you owe me an apology, baby.”

There were tears forming in her eyes, and she nearly, stubbornly, thought she’d rather pass out than give him the satisfaction. But the distant sound of running water forced her lips to move. 

“So–Sor–Sorry, ple-please–”

He released her, and she doubled over, falling into a coughing fit, hand clutching at her own throat, sure of the forming bruises. He huffed a sigh, as if somehow she was inconveniencing him. 

He leaned down again as she straightened against the wall. And he smiled. What was–

Before she could blink, his lips were pressed against her own. Her hands came to push at his chest, but he pulled back before she could move. He huffed a laugh, ruffling her hair.

“All good?” 

All good? She forced down the protests, and nodded. She didn’t know this man. Didn’t know what he could do.

“It’s gettin’ kinda late, huh?” She realized after a moment that he was looking for an answer.

“I–Yes, I–” She cleared her throat of the raspiness, “I guess it is.”

He stretched his arms over his head, “Think I’ll stay the night, that okay?”

Fucking bastard. She went to open her mouth, but the sound of small footsteps padding against the floor caught her attention. She turned to see Kenta, hair dripping, in his matching set pajamas, making his way into the room.

“Hey, bud,” The man turned to him, “Guess what?”

“What?” He tilted his head.

He smirked as he glanced back at her, “We’re havin’ a sleepover.”

“Really?” Kenta jumped a bit in excitement.

His eyes were still on her. Red and burning and waiting. 

She cleared her throat, “Real–Really, baby, if,” She glanced nervously between them, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah! We’re gonna have so much fun!” 

“So much fun,” The man confirmed, “Right,” Looking around, he made his way to the dining room table, “What’s for dinner?”

.♡.

“Damn,” He whistled from behind her, hands rubbing up her sides, settling on her hips, “You tryna steal my brand?”

He huffed a laugh, lips falling to a smirk as his face fell to her neck, eyes trailing her figure in the mirror in front of them. 

“Guess red is your color now, baby.”  His nose brushed against her neck as he raised his head, taking in a breath, and pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. 

She tried her hardest not to cringe, managing to keep her disgust contained with the clench of her jaw. The dress was beautiful; she would have felt beautiful had anyone else on the planet gifted it to her, but they didn’t, and she didn’t. There was a much too revealing slit running up one of the sides of the dress. With fabric skin tight and blood red, she felt more like someone’s dress-up doll than a person.

“This is it, right?” She sighed, meeting his eyes in the mirror, her own expression dull, tired, “You get your rank boosted, and that’s it. We’re done. Right? ”

She knew logically, in the far back of her mind, that this was about something entirely more sinister than simply a number as inconsequential, as temporary as a hero rank. The crimson eyes in the mirror glowed with a feeling she could only attribute to possession. 

But, stupidly, naively, she was clinging to some hope, any hope, that that was what he wanted. Because if it wasn’t, if he wanted any more, she feared she’d break to pieces on her bedroom floor. And if she allowed herself even a second, and the cracks appeared, she’d be burdening her son with the shattered mess that would be her resolve.

So she wouldn’t break. If only to keep that bright smile on Kenta’s face, eyes innocent, shield him from anything and everything big and bad in the world like a mother would. Like a mother should. 

She wouldn’t break.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” He sighed, a sleazy smile still on his lips as his hands began to move, to grope, “After tonight; we won’t have to play pretend anymore.”

One arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her tight against him, something poking at her back. His other hand traveled downwards, fingers slipping past that easy access slit, and–

“Mama, mama, look!” As quickly as he pulled her to him, he stepped away, turning to the little boy bounding through the door.

“You like the suit, bud?” How generous he was, he’d reminded her. He had all the money in the world to take care of them. She just had to let him. As if it were that easy. Asshole.

But she swallowed the anger, sending a soft smile to her son, taking in the child standing tall and proud in his small, tailored suit, grinning up at them for approval. At them. She faltered a bit before willing the nausea away.

“Wow,” She sighed, making her way to Kenta, crouching down as she fixed his red tie. The three of them really did look like a matching set, didn’t they? “Who’s this handsome man? Have you seen Kenta? I can’t seem to find him!”

“It’s me! Kenta! Here, I’m right here!” He squealed, waving his arms a bit in front of her. 

“No,” She smiled wryly, “Kenta likes to come home covered in dirt lookin’ super cool.”

“Well now I’m all dressed up and super cool!” He crossed his arms petulantly, and she relented, laughing lightly.

“Oh, silly me,” She stood, having fixed his tie, “Of course, only Kenta could look this cool.”

“Mhmm!” 

The low laughter behind her was like ice water in her veins. Right. He was still here. He came up behind her, arm wrapping around her hips as he smiled down at her son.

“You all ready, bud?” 

“Yup!” Kenta jumped excitedly, “And I remembered, just like you said! I got the–”

“Surprise, kiddo.” The man hummed. 

“Oh,” Kenta’s eyes widened before nodding intently, “Right. Surprise.” She didn’t want to dwell on the way her son looked at the man beside her with the reverence of something like a father. 

The hero sent him a wink, and the little boy gave him a mismatched eye blink in response. She clenched her jaw, fingernails digging into her palms. Days. Days, and he hadn’t budged on this surprise of his. She felt like she’d throw up if she thought about it too long. So she forced it to the back of her mind. 

She couldn’t break. 

He turned back to her, fingers squeezed at the fat of her waist, thumb brushing affectionately against the fabric.

“You ready?”

.♡.

The lights flashing in her face left her feeling dizzy, and clutching tightly to the man by her side as they stepped from the limo. Blindly, she grasped for her son’s hand behind her as they marched forward, through the chaos.

They stopped in front of a row of reporters. A press line, she realized grimly. She let her mind wander as he fielded questions about the upcoming hero ranking announcement, chuckling lightly as reporter after reporter speculated about the nature and history of their relationship. About the oh so adorable little boy bouncing at their side.

He waved them off after a while, “I’m real sorry!” Sheepishly, a hand came to scratch at his head, “But, the little lady’s not used to all the cameras just yet.” Yet? No, push it down. Smile, she reminded herself, glancing at her son, who was rocking on his heels back and forth beside her. Oblivious. Good.

He huffed an apologetic laugh as the crowd protested, “‘Sides, we’d better get inside,” He threw a disarming smile over his shoulder, a hand raised to the crowd, “Wish me luck!”

They made their way inside, and she scanned the room, Kenta gasping next to her at the gathering of heroes. His heroes. 

They made their way to their seats, and she recognized a few of the heroes gathered around them. She zoned out as a few of the men shoved her hero by the shoulder, jeering at him for finally settling down. A few of the women cooing over Kenta; how quaint! God, she wanted to scream.

She was brought back to reality when the grip on her hand turned deadly. Wincing, she turned towards him.

“I’m sorry,” She forced a sheepish smile, “Guess I’m just a little overwhelmed. What was the question?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the suspicious gaze of that ash blonde hero. The one who blew the city to bits every chance he got. He scoffed as he sized her up, turning away, downing his drink. She swallowed, turning away in unease.

“How’d this oaf convince ya, huh?” The lightning blonde laughed, “Money? No way a chick as hot as–oof!” One of the women, that pink hero, she recognized, elbowed him in the stomach, and the man doubled over, spitting up his drink, “Shit! What was that for?”

She turned away from the interaction as the woman began to scold him, and a few others took the opportunity to ask about her relationship to their friend. 

How’d you get together? 

Yeah! Tell us everything!

Where’d he take you on your first date? 

It wasn’t the gym, right? Please tell me it wasn’t the gym!

And more. Her cheeks hurt from the forced quirk of her lips, fingers aching under the table from the deathgrip her tormentor had on her hand. She gave them the answers she thought appropriate.

He saved my son’s life.

Just a casual dinner. Nothing big. 

His grip relented a bit, and she sighed. Kissing her on the cheek, he leaned back, a lovesick glaze overtaking his eyes that even his friends seemed to notice, because the jeers started up again.

“Alright, alright,” He placated with a smile, “You got your answers. Quit scarin’ the lady, already.” 

They protested lightly, but settled. Just in time. The lights started to dim, and a spotlight shone on stage. The entirely too enthusiastic announcer began to speak, hyping up the crowd at the fast approaching ranking release.

As the minutes ticked by on the clock, she realized his name hadn’t been called yet. Most of the heroes at her table had sat by in silence so far. And then the host flashed a knowing smile, reminding the crowd of the moment they’d been waiting for.

The Top Ten. 

Oh. Was that it? If he was in the top ten, would that mean she did her job? Served her purpose. Would he leave her be, then?

She turned to watch Kenta, whose eyes were glued to the stage, wide in awe, ears hanging on every word. She selfishly wished he wouldn’t become one of those people who worshiped the hero society she’d found herself trapped in. 

But she could see it happening in real time, she supposed. The way he clung to the man who’d saved him from the rubble. The merch and toys that now littered their home, posters plastered around his bedroom walls. The way his eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his favorite hero’s name. She could almost hear the moment her heart started to crack.

All of a sudden, the people around her stood up, screaming. Kenta jumped to his feet, hands raised in the air as an open-mouthed smile overtook his face. 

No. 8 Hero. 

No. 8.

He reached a hand around her back, twirling her towards him, dipping her as his lips forced themselves on hers, tongue shoved down her throat. The cheers only erupted further. As she was pulled back to her feet, dizzy and unfocused, she barely registered as he made his way to the stage, bowing in thanks.

The rest of the names flew by in a blur, a few of his friends stepping up to join him as the list reached its end. But she paid no mind. It was over now. Right?

It was over. Could it please be over?

.♡.

They were outside again, and the cold night air nipped at her skin. Ushered back into the press line, she watched him desperately as he began to speak to reporters.

What an honor. I wasn’t expecting this. I’ll do my best to earn it! 

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. But she was waiting. Waiting for him to say it. Release her. Release them. Say it. Please, say it. 

“I owe it to all the support I’ve got behind me.” He smiled, squeezing their interlocked hands, “I really am the luckiest guy in the world, Number 8 or not.” No.

“There isn’t anything I can do to thank her,” He sighed, letting out a sheepish laugh, “But, I did prepare a little surprise.” 

He turned to glance at Kenta, “We had a little surprise, actually.” Not that. Don’t say that.

The crowd awed, cooing at the scene, reporters on the edge of their seats, eager to hear more. She knew it was coming. She knew it. And yet, still, some part of her, some stupid part of her grasped for that single thread. She couldn’t fall. If she fell, she’d break.

“You ready, bud?” Stop it. She was starting to lose her grip on the thread.

“Mhmm!” Kenta hummed, fumbling for something in his pocket. “Right here!” 

The thread was fraying. His small hands produced a velvet red box, and the crowd took a breath. She watched as her son reached past her, handing the weapon to the perpetrator. She hadn’t the time to process the burning betrayal in her chest. Because suddenly, she was falling.  

And then he kneeled, looking up at her imploringly, that twinkle in his eyes sparkling. He’d finally won that game of his that only he was playing. Further down and down. And–

“Will you marry me?” That shark toothed smile flashed up at her; she felt the fangs ripping her heart to shreds. 

And she shattered.

#yandere bnha #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere mha #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere eijiro #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #kiri is feral for milfs you can't convince me otherwise

[bitchywitchyvibes666]

Lord Kratos

A/n: just in case there is confession, I’m doing greek God’s so in this Kratos is the god of strength not be confused with the god of war Ares. Thanks lovelies. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Kiri saw you, you took his breathe away. You were so pretty but you looked oh so scared of being in the temple, like a lamb being lead to slaughter. You had come with someone you had named your father, begging him to let it go and that he didn’t need to do this, that he was bothering a busy God with no real reason. Although Kiri would argue that he was never too busy for a pretty thing like you. 

You were clad in a beautiful blue dress, gold accessories cover your waist and arms and some even glinted on your ears. Kiri couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you looked like a goddess, like you belonged in Olympus with him. Kirishima couldn’t even focus on what the man was praying for when you were there, he just couldn’t take his eyes off you and the only voice he wanted to listen to was yours. He wanted to know if it was as sweet as he thought it would be.

It wasn’t until he heard exactly what the man was asking for, he was asking for strength because he wanted to protect his daughter because she couldn’t do it herself. He mentioned that due to your condition, begging and pleading, that you were just to fragile to fight off men with sinful intentions and he needed to be able to protect you. His voice was almost pitiful as he prayed whereas you look like you were going to cry from embarrassment. Your father made an offering before leaving, you wait a moment for stepping forward, your voice completely encasing Kiri’s mind as he listened to you. 

“Please do not listen to my father Lord Kratos, I’m pretty fine with how things are and I would rather not burden you nor my father. Please use his prayer on something deserving my Lord” 

He watched as you bowed before him, your thin hair covering your face like a veil before you stood once more. Kiri almost made himself known to you as he watched you stop for a moment, squeezing your eyes closed and breathing deeply before giving a strained smile. He watched as you careful walked away from him, making sure not to over do yourself. 

As much as Kiri would love to do exactly what you were asking him for, to give you anything that you desired, he just couldn’t, he couldn’t let such a beauty be vulnerable in this world. He’d grant your father this but only until Kiri could do it for you himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been weeks and Kiri watched as you walked the city of Athens, almost throwing himself at you every time you stumbled and looked like you were seconds away from falling, just wanting to drag you into his arms where he knew you’d be safe. You look even more divine than Athena and he couldn’t stop the way his eyes trailed over your body. He couldn’t help the way his teeth tore open his lower lip as his depraved thoughts or the way his fists clenched with the need to ruin you. The need he had developed for you was like a fire raging through his veins.  

Kiri had granted your father strength but that didn’t stop Kiri from doing your fathers job for him, he couldn’t help it! He just lived to protect his little goddess. Kiri lived for the sounds of his fists hitting flesh as he did what he had to do to protect you from their stares and wandering hands. Kiri hated violence but in the name of protecting you? He’d kill this entire city. 

Kiri followed closely behind you as you walked through the city, watching with a loving...almost obsessive glint in his eyes every time you stopped at a stall or smiled at a child. He loved how you acted with the children you saw, you would be the perfect mother and that thought was something so...tantalizing to Kirishima. Kiri knew that some gods did have relations with humans that’s why demi gods came into play but he never imagined he would but fuck did you make the idea seem better than Olympus itself. 

Sometimes Kiri would have to entrust your father with you when his mind wandered too far or he got too drunk off of your scent, fuck you smelt so good to him. Just long enough while Kiri found somewhere private so he could wrap a large hand around his thick cock and stroke it until he came with a feral growl of your name. Sometimes if he had time he’d go back to his place just to hunt out a pair of panties that he had taken from you, he was an utter slave for your scent. Kiri was a God in love and if you asked him to, he’d kneel before you. 

After some time Kiri got bolder in his pursuit of you and it rewarded him greatly. He no longer turned away when you changed or showered, he no longer shied away when he noticed your hand trailing lower of your body. Sometimes Kiri couldn’t help himself as he hid the shadows of your room, hand below his waist band as he followed your slow movements, wanting to take his time with his pretty little human. Sharp teeth evoking blood from his lips to quiet his sounds as he listened to you, fighting with the little self control he had over the smell of you that filled every part of the room, the smell made him dizzy with pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was one of those times again when Kiri couldn’t help but stay a little longer, a little later and watch his pretty little thing sleep. He had noticed that as of late you’d grown more tired and sickly, your illness finally catching up to you and all that you did to care for your father.

Kiri felt his blood boil when he thought of your father, he had granted him the strength he said he needed and he wasted it and let you grow more unwell because he was lazy and unlike Kirishima completely unfit to care for you. This right here was why you needed Kirishima, you needed your big strong God to protect you and make sure you never had to lift a finger again. 

Kiri dragged one of his fingers down the apple of your cheek, relishing in how soft your pale skin was. His red eyes followed the path of his finger before catching the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you dreamt. His eyes fell to your lips before watching the way your chest rose and fell with every breathe you took. 

Kiri leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his arms found themselves picking up your fragile body, he whispered a breathless apology as he began to walk away from your bed. This time you were coming home with him, he was sure you’d learn to love it and him. 

You’d just need a little time...

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #ejiro kirishima #kirishima imagine #dark kirishima #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima smut #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere ejiro

[yndrgrl]

bullies! kiribaku x reader headcannons <3

headcannons for your azz. fem! reader. soft! yandere, hardcore! fuckers. college! au.

warnings: nsfw, threesome!!, degrading, praise, blackmail, sending pics, possessive, lowkey cnc???

a/n: so i originally had this as a long one shot, but i ended up straying too far away from the actual "bully" trope, so this is just to reel it back & get my thoughts all in one place :) lemme know if i should make this a longer fic !

-

✩ bullies! kiribaku were notorious around campus; if you came across them, know not to look into their eyes, keep your head down, & do whatever they say. those are the rules when you see the duo wandering around.

★ they were shocked when, while bullying one of the pricks that decided to spread rumors about them, you appeared out of nowhere. you shoved bakugo off of the shaking boy & put your body between them & their victim. "what the hell do you think you're doing!?" you shouted at them. you put on your bravest face & puffed out your chest. they've seen you around before, always silently admiring from afar until now.

✩ their first thought was, "how stupid is this chick?" they were -at least- twice your size & could scoop you up with one hand. then they took you in; you were ethereal, like a guardian angel sent from the pearly heaven above. kirishima looked at bakugo, & bakugo glanced at him. kirishima gave him a fang-filled grin. they were nothing more than demons who were feigning for a chance to taint your sweet charm.

★ bakugo, expressionless, responded, "what does it look like? i'm teaching this little asshole a lesson-" you cut him off with your hands clenched in a white-tight fist, "you're pathetic! picking on someone so much smaller than you, have some fuckin' self-respect." god, you were irresistible, they thought.

✩ kirishima, who is nothing but an instigator, snickered & whispered in the blonde's ear, "i think she's the one we have to teach a lesson to, don't you think?"

★ kirishima turned towards you, his grin would've been unnerving given any other circumstance. his sharp teeth were on full display as he teased, "well aren't you a good samaritan? it makes me wonder how far you'll go to stop us."

✩ "i'll do anything! you people make me sick," you shouted at them, & that's when the realization sunk in. shit... you've made a mistake.

★ the guy you were so-desperately trying to defend was just a coward who ran away without looking back. now you were in the hot seat, & your heartbeat was thumping in your ears. it felt like there was a drum in your head. adrenaline was flowing through your veins. you swallowed the lump in your throat. they were just staring at you with their sharp ruby eyes, piercing straight through your facade. "so what now? gonna beat up a girl 'cuz you have nothing better to do?"

✩ everything after that was a blur. you somehow ended up in their shared dorm, your throat fucked by kirishima & your pussy filled with bakugo. tears streamed down your face as you felt a whiplash of emotions all at once. they were such assholes, but, god, you felt so good. while kirishima sang you praises, bakugo gripped you so tightly, spanking your red-flushed ass. "you like that, huh? dumb slut," bakugo growled. he kept thrusting in & out of your dripping hole harshly. you hummed in disagreement, but it only made kirishima fuck your throat more.

★ "aww, bakubro, be nice to her. she's being so good f' us," purred kirishima, it seemed like he was on your side, but the tight grasp he had on your hair told you otherwise.

✩ by hour two, your pussy was still stuffed, this time with kirishima. a mixture of your climax & both mens' cum seeped out of your overstimulated hole. you sat in kirishima's lap, bouncing yourself on his thick cock reverse-cowgirl style. bakugo flooded your mouth with his cum, & he demanded, "don't fuckin' swallow, got it?"

★ he pulled out of your mouth, & you listened. your obedience didn't go unnoticed because, while bakugo went to go fish his phone out of his pants that were on the hardwood floor, kirishima groaned, "so perfect, you know that, don't you? just such a good girl, takin' us so well. you're too pretty for your own good, we're just gonna keep you to ourselves~ you'll be ours, won't you, sweetheart?" you were lost in foggy pleasure, so you nodded your droopy head.

✩ bakugo came back & held your chin. his touch was gentle for the first time. he guided your face to look up at him with your pretty, teary eyes. his phone camera was pointed at you. "open up, angel," he said, stroking your lip with his thumb. he was so soft spoken that it shocked you & kirishima, you felt obligated to listen. he was so sweet all of a sudden. you opened your mouth, his hot, white load dripping onto his wrist. he snapped a picture then told you to swallow & clean him off.

★ "you got him all pussy-whipped, (y/n). can't really blame him though. you're too good~" that night, an arrangement was made. bakugo's gentleness must've run out because, when you went back to your dorm, you received an image from an unknown number, the caption read, "if you know what's good for you, you'll listen to us."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who are so intimidating that they somehow got you, the campus' fire cracker, to not only turn a blind eye to their antics but also do their bidding. what dirt did they have on you, everyone wondered.

★ whatever you did, their other victims were thankful because bullies! kiribaku have left them alone. instead, they now target any man who thinks they can hit on you. a guy at the club is sauntering towards you? kirishima grabs you by the back of the neck, turning your face towards him & captures your pouty lips in a steamy kiss. a man on instagram starts talking dirty to you through dms? all you have to do is tell bakugo, & he sends them a mirror selfie of him sitting on his bed while you're on your knees in front of him.

✩ at some point, everyone knew that you belonged to bullies! kiribaku, but you were just as bad as them. oh? someone's trying to seduce your bullies? not on your watch. they found it so fuckin' sexy the way you'd immediately rush to their side. if a woman tries to feel bakugo's bulging muscles while he's at the gym, you'll be there, marking his neck & glaring at her. kirishima's fan girls are getting too close? you'll sit on his lap & whisper how much you wanna beat them up.

★ "you're not gonna tell anyone about this, right?" kirishima purred, as if everyone was unaware of your guys' relationship. it added to the fun-- sneaking around & pretending like you have no other choice. you were sucking his cock while your skirt was flipped up, your thong down by your ankles. your legs were spread, & bakugo buried his face in your juicy ass. bakugo responded between pants, "'course not, don't be stupid. we got those cute lil pictures of her, she's not gonna do shit."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who will throw you into the nearest janitor's closet & fuck you so hard. their fingers in your mouth to act as a makeshift gag.

★ bullies! kiribaku who are never hesitant to treat you to whatever you want, but they're always so awkward about it. after all, they're not used to having such a graceful angel by their side.

✩ in the end, bullies! kiribaku corrupted you, not that you cared. you loved their nasty teasing, the manhandling, & the secret touching moments shared between all of you.

#anime and manga #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #x reader #bakugou drabble #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima smut #katsuki x reader #kiribaku #yandere bnha #bnha katsuki bakugou #bnha headcannons #kirishima headcanon

[rottenomelet]

kirishima is absolutely the type to “forget” a condom. then he’d beg and beg to “please let me put the tip in. c’mon, baby, it’s just the tip. just for a little while.”

but then the tip slips in a little deeper than intended so with a lopsided, decievingly boyish smile, he suggests “-going in half. might as well, right? half isn’t much more than the tip.” (which is a lie - half of his cock is much more than the tip but you don’t say that)

but but once kiri’s in halfway, he easily convinces you to let him put it all in. “pretty much there anyways, doll. i won’t move, i swear. you’re warming me, that’s all.”

but but but then he gives a little twitch, and a twitch becomes a grind, and a grind becomes a thrust and suddenly he has your legs over his shoulders as he pounds into you all while promising to pull out.

you really shouldn’t be surprised when he comes inside of you, as deep as he can. “shh, shh. it’s fine. i made you cum and you made me cum - we’re even.”

…

“let’s go for round two, yeah? i mean, i already came inside. one more time isn’t gonna change anything really.”

#yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima eijiro #tw yandere #kirishima eijirou #idk i just think he’s kind of a jock a hole #the kind that convinces u that like blue balls r real n shit #rottenomelet

[lazywriters-blog]

Yandere Bakugo and Kirishima, who are brothers not by blood and a two-man army of Pro-heroes, they're best buds one hasn't betrayed the other in forever and they both think they would never, their friendship goes way back and it grows stronger with every battle won and every victory taken with each other's strengths.

Of course, that is until they meet her.

Though Kirishima would never think about throwing his bro under the bus for his dream girl, he would be lying if he said he hasn't thought about it and subconsciously made preparations to make it happen, Bakugo thinks he's doing a good job at hiding his huge crush and he would have been right if his friend hadn't known him long enough to deduce what he's feeling.

They both gradually figure each other out in secret and though it's not talked about, one can assume something happened to throw each other in harm's way when fighting a mega-villain and accidentally pushing one into an incoming assault. It's when things will start to darken up, and anyone can see something is wrong with them if they're tampering and adding something to the other's meal and being so casual about it.

The war only starts when Kirishima posts a picture of her and him smiling in the camera and Bakugo's jealousy starts showing its ugly head, the thing is he comes up empty-handed when compared to a social butterfly like Kirishima who knows how to make someone comfortable and say the right things, darling does not stand a chance against the blonde's strange way of communication and would prefer the red-haired one because he's smiling and being so gentle. Unlike someone.

It truly makes Bakugo's blood boil watching his friend and his darling share a glass of ice cream he's left alone to witness, and how Kirishima is enjoying tasting each bite from her spoon with her saliva on it, he comes home and smashes his mirrors into pieces. He decides it's time to finally take up a book on 'How to Win Someone Over!'

He tries his best but Darling is still wary of him however knows not to make him upset so she plays along and at a very slow pace, they become comfortable around each other but not enough for her to let down her guard and allow him the same affection she gives to Kirishima who gets his daily fill of physical contact, sweet praises and encouraging words.

It gets him so down, that he's out of character.

While Kirishima can laugh and joke with Darling and even brush hands until she permits him to hold her hand and eventually he thinks their friendship will slide down a romantic path and then he wins at life, he can grow old with her and have kids who look just like him and her.

But he'd forgotten about his best friend.

Who goes out of his way to force a ring on his darling's finger and register their names as lifelong partners. He might even go as far as to baby trap Darling so that Kirishima doesn't win and that his victory is guaranteed. Because he doesn't lose to anyone.

They both decide getting rid of each other is the only way they can have Darling all to oneself.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yan yan #yandere drabble #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere kirishima #yandere kiribaku #yandere eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #eijirou x reader #yandere my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha x reader

[yanderenightmare]

poly kiribaku with a small captive darling!! badcap/goodcop dynamic where kiri's the really cruel one, and baku cant help but enjoy watching him break little darling over his knee despite feeling a little guilty about not doing anything????

Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, yandere, good cop/bad cop manipulation, size-difference, poly, abuse i.e. slapping, hair-pulling, etc

The slap to her face sent her to the ground, and Katsuki cringed – face flinching as the redhead towered with unfair height over the small girl at his feet. His large hands, rough like stone, hoisted her up by the arm she raised to shield herself – only to shove her down on the bed – looming and pushing himself onto her where she fought so uselessly, so desperately to protect herself – despite knowing it only motivated the brawny male to get even rougher.

A fist latched tight around her throat kept her down with disorienting strength – spluttering on strangled air while her head thumped hot and blinding, only barely lucid enough to catch the sharp sounds of his belt unbuckling. 

The other cruel fist twisted her dress until tearing it off, leaving her even more vulnerable to his harsh handlings – ripping her panties down to her legs while she kicked in distress, caught beneath the unjust muscle mass with no ounce of hope to escape him.

Sobbing, she fervently tried stopping him – winding her thighs shut with a pair of small hands pushing at his chest to keep him distanced. But it was all just silly of her, as it took little more than an effortless push to have her completely flattened beneath him – knees spread wide open on each side of his hips.

Katsuki stood and watched – rigidly – listening to the pitiful sounds of her whimpering cries overrun by Kirishima’s much domineering groans. 

It happened fast, and soon it was already over with – and he’d done nothing but stand there all the while without a word – and still simply stood there speechless even now – as she knelt on the floor by the redhead's feet, cowering as he fisted her hair tightly in a mean grip – asking her in loud growls if she had anything to say for herself.

“I'm sorry- I'm sorry, Eijiro-” She spluttered out, eyes squeezed tight with hands thrown up in surrender – failing to shield herself from even the loud rashness of his voice where thick tears mercilessly streamed in streaks down her stinging raw cheeks.

“And your other master.” He added, yanking her head back with another hand gripping her jaw to face the silent blond.

“I'm sorry, Katsuki- I'm sorry- I'm sorry-”

It took him a second too long to shake free of the stiffness that had taken its toll on him – as though he had somehow forgotten he wasn’t just a spectator. Feeling ill at the sight of how meaty and big Kirishima’s hands were in comparison to her head, where the massive male held her tight like a football while she hiccupped and hitched on uneven breaths, all riddled with terror and hurt.

“There you go~ We learn, don't we, sweetie?” Kirishima continued his brutalities, fucking his coarse fingers into her mouth – making her choke and wretch – though still scared in place, obediently kneeling beneath the male with her hands held steady on the hard muscles of his thighs.

“Kiri, take it easy….” Bakugou finally managed to voice – taking a cautious step towards the two of them.

“What? Oh, look- now you’re making him worry.” Kirishima scolded, pulling her up by her hair, with her wincing at the sting before she was shoved onto her other large captor. 

“I’m sorry- please don't-” She begged, knees quaking as she sagged against him weakly – face twisted in plead with a pitiful furrow of mercy wrinkled between her brows and eyes impossibly large with tears and fear – hopelessly searching for any ounce of kindness he had to spare.

“Show him then.” Kirishima voiced brashly. “Show him how sorry you are.”

She shook and obeyed, taking the ever-so-silent blond by his big hands – hoping he wouldn’t use his strength on her like the other one – while guiding him back to the bed.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki- please don’t worry~” She tried soothing – gently pushing him back on the bed so she could crawl over him and offer some comfort like how Kirishima had taught her he liked.

“You hear that?” The redhead spoke. “Go on, Tsuki~ touch her.” He encouraged him while a rough hand came to make her flinch despite it only gently stroking her ass where she hovered over Bakugou’s clothed bump – painfully stretching out the fabric keeping it trapped.

He barely wanted to look down – afraid to admit to himself why he was so fucking hard – knowing it had everything to do with the fact that Kirishima’s so cruel and she’s so cute it’s cruel in and of itself – feeling so reluctant to acknowledge it as it would mean he could no longer deny the fact that he’s something really very sick for enjoying it.

“Please. It’s fine- touch me.” She sweet-talked, kissing with wet lips and tongue against his neck – making his heart pound harder with tremoring hands subconsciously lifting to card guilt-ridden yet greedy fingers into the plush softness of the thighs cradling him.

About to groan when pushing her hips down to grind on him – stopped short when the redhead raked his hand back in the girl’s hair and yanked her back – ripping her from lathering his neck with sweet spit and pleasurable little whimpers.

He watched her crane, arching back to look up into Kirishima’s face – a collection of ferally pointy teeth smiling down at her with a gleam nothing short of sadistic.

“What gives, buttercup? You’re never this sweet with me?” He accused, fist only tightening to make her wince.

She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek, encouraging him to lean in. “I’m sorry, Eijirou~ I’m still learning~” She tried, and successfully – he humored her – kissing her lips with tongue and teeth while tangling his hand softer into her hair, soothing fingertips brushing reassuringly against her scalp rather than twisting it from their roots.

His other hand rounded her and flicked her budding nipple, making her yelp into his receiving mouth – where he bore a toothy smirk – rumbling out a low chuckle in response while continuing to rub the nub between coarse fingers.

“Have you already forgotten about someone?” He asked after a while, hot against her lips – and Bakugou realized a second too late that it meant another punishment was due – watching her struggle with yet another cry as Kirishima ensnared her neck in a harsh chokehold.

Her smaller hand clawed on the paw without merit while he continued kissing her breathless mouth, desperately gulping for air he wouldn’t allow.

“Kiri-” Bakugou interjected once again, and the redhead let up, making her suck in harshly – slumping forward against the blond’s chest in a coughing spur until she ended up simply crying into his collar with fingers clutching tightly onto the cotton of his shirt.

He felt her shiver all the way down to her toes – his stomach brewing with stirs in return – bubbly and boiling as he watched the continued cruelty before him where the redhead played with her like something inanimate.

“Oh- you can handle it, right? Can’t you, sweetie?” He feigned tenderness, softly stroking the top of her head where she had it buried in Bakugou’s neck, gripping him for safety he was sorry to say he wouldn’t give her.

He thought he heard her whisper out the teeniest tiniest plea where she clutched him even tighter – molding her body flat against him – as close as she could while goosebumps shock-rose all across her exposed skin.

“I’m just teaching you to appreciate us, buttercup.” Kirishima defended, his stiff lips pressed against her shoulder, leaving a wet trail of sloppy kisses up her neck as he positioned himself behind her.

Rough hands lifted her by the fat of her ass – and soon she felt the stiff structure of his thick member brush against the raw puff of her sore cunt.

“If I don’t, who will?” He whispered, stroking her hair over to the other side to get a clean shot at her ear – whispering upon it. “It’s not like Mr. Perfect here is gonna get his hands dirty.”

#yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bnha #yandere bakugou #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere eijiro #yandere eijirou #yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #katsuki thirst #katsuki smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima smut #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere bakugou smut #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou imagine

[allfearstofallto]

The Sweetest Spoil of War

Yandere! Demon King Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: a war ended with an unwilling marriage. The fighting ceases, but at the cost of your hand.

TW: Forced marriage, NSFW implications, size difference, mentions for Dub/Non Con, virgin! Reader, yandere/obsessive themes

AN: another one that has been sitting in the drafts for years!! But I finally finished this first part. Hopefully I'll have the second, more smutty part written up soon!!

A brush of blush across the cheeks. A swatch of color on the lower lip. Many swipes of a comb through your hair. The tightening of your bodice fixed your posture, and you were adorned with heavy jewels and rings. All the while, a celebration was happening outside.

It wasn’t a celebration you could see, you weren’t allowed to move a muscle, couldn’t even turn your head to look out the window, in fear that you may disrupt the many people who were spending their time making you beautiful. But it was one you could hear. As the maids picked and prodded at every part of your body, cleaning you here, applying makeup there, covering this, uncovering that, you listened to the happiness of the people. Your people. Well, technically not your people any more.

They popped fireworks and sang songs. Their cheers grew louder and louder as the minutes went by, as you got more and more dolled up. Street vendors loudly advertised their wares and you could hear children playing in the streets again. It was probably the first time they’d left their house in months, it was probably the first time it was safe enough to do so, they had every right to celebrate. But at what cost?

If they knew the price that was paid for their safety, the price they paid for freedom from the war, the war that they were losing, would they still cheer? Would they still dance and sing? Would the celebration still continue?

The price was you, of course. The second daughter of the King of the land and the gem of the nation, or so you were called. Good deeds came like second nature to you, they were as easy for you as breathing. The way you donated and volunteered was like nothing the royal family had seen. Your kindness was a tall tale spread around like wildfire and marriage proposals were in abundance for you. You were like a tourist attraction. Rather than coming to visit your country for sights, people would visit to meet you, as if you were some sort of celebrity.

Your nation was small, but what it lacked in land, it made up for in stocks and trade. It was a modest business that made more than enough money. But greed is a drug, one that your father was heavily addicted to. Expanding was a bad option, you always told him so, but your words fell on deaf ears, and as the farmers marched further and further upon land that wasn’t theirs, the true owners of it fought back.

For a year, your father insisted that the war with the rival nation could be won. You always wondered why he thought that. The land that he’d intruded on belonged to none other than the demon king himself, a man feared but rarely ever seen. His endeavors were like horror stories spread across the nation, and your tiny little country didn’t even have an official army. Rather, there were a few patriotic men who were sent off to fight first. There wasn’t much of them left to bury when they returned. Then who left was decided by draft. The first men were a warning for what was to come and everyone knew that. Moral dwindled when people began running away from their own country, rather than fighting for it.

Negotiations started when the supply chain got cut off by the demon king’s army and with a nation as small as yours, no other kingdoms were offering help. The talks were started through letters at first. Your father sat at his desk, lips in a tight grimace as he read the sheet of paper over and over again before writing his response in return. Things went on this way for months, the writing back and forth as war raged on right outside your door. Until the day he showed up.

You didn’t think that the demon king himself would come, but you watched out from your front door as the carriage pulled into the town. It was large and ornate, covered in shiny stones and what appeared to be bone as well. It was a mixture of the high class of the aristocrats and the barbarian ways of life of the demons. The hoofs of the horses clopped down the road and the carriage swayed ever so slightly side to side. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was in there.

The driver of the carriage himself was also a demon. A burly blond one with piercing, blood red eyes and horns like a ram. When he snarled at one of your citizens, you could see his teeth. They were sharp like the heads of arrows, like they could bite through the flesh of a mere human at any time. It made your skin run cold as you realized that all demons shared the same few traits, long nails, horns, and sharp teeth. You could only imagine what those natural advantages were doing against the measly weapons the army was given.

You could already feel your palms sweating as the carriage stopped in front of your castle. The entire family had to come out to greet guests, as were the rules, but all you wanted to do was slink back into your room and pray that the war would end naturally. And you weren’t the only one silently wishing to leave. You spared a glance out of your peripheral to the rest of the family and saw that they too stood stiffly, or did everything they could to avoid eye contact with the large carriage that casted an almost laughably ginormous shadow over your family.

The blond boy pulled at the reins of the horses, stopping them in front of the castle, before stepping down from his seat in front of the carriage. Even for a demon, his face was easy to read. He didn’t want to be here, and he most definitely didn’t want to have to be cordial. You could see the hatred for your father in his eyes, the way he wanted to just lunge at him and end things in this very spot, but he didn’t.

“His Highness, King Kirishima Ejiro,” he said almost sarcastically. Then he opened the door to the carriage behind him.

Big didn’t even begin to describe the man. He was humongous. Not only was he tall, but he was also thick with muscles and hands that looked like they could crush your skull with ease. You looked at him and you saw a demon. His hair was long and spiky, and unlike the companion he’d brought along who had curled horns, he stood straight up, only adding to his monstrous height.

The suit he was wearing was still adorned with demon-like paraphilia, bones and bottles filled with what you could only assume were potions. His scarred hands were covered in rings and the sly smile he gave your family showed you enough of his teeth to prove to you that you’d rather die than go near his mouth.

You didn’t know where to look, you could barely even think as he stood before you. His eyes weren’t red like his subordinate, rather, his were a beady, inky black color that scanned across your family. They were taking in every single sorrowful and fearful face, until they landed on you.

You felt your heart stop beating completely when he looked at you. Your breathing became shaky and you felt yourself about to lose consciousness from his gaze alone. Why was he still looking at you? The rest of the family only got a glance, but you, it seemed like he had to forcefully peel his own eyes away from you.

“You have a lovely family,” he said. His voice was deep, yet booming, it felt like your ankles were shaking, just from hearing him speak. If not for the fact that he scared the life out of you, you would’ve scoffed at him. A beautiful family that he was going to ignore when negotiations started. But maybe that was for the better.

He was led inside, following behind your father who was shaking in his boots. He had to duck to get through the door and his footsteps on the tile floor sounded more thunder cracking inside the walls of your home. He looked around with a strange look on his face, one that seemed almost enthusiastic, but that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be happy while he was in enemy territory, not while he could easily be killed.

And that was the plan at first. Lure him in and have the army raid the palace, he’d be powerless since he expressed through his letters that he’d only be bringing one guard. Your father thought he was stupid or naive, but casting eyes upon him showed you that one guard was enough. Anything else would’ve been overkill.

They were in talks for what felt like a few mere moments and he was coming back down the stairs with a smile on his face. You’d long since hidden in your room to keep from having to entertain the blond demon that was sitting in your living room, but curiosity made you peek your head out when you head the door to the office open. Your father was aggressively shaking the demon king's hand, but you could see the horror in his face. There was sweat pooling on his forehead and he looked like he would throw up at any moment. You later found out why he looked that way.

At the dinner table that very night he announced that the war would be ending and the supply lines would open back up. There was a unanimous cheer from the family as you and your siblings argued over who would get to tell the people of the nation that they were free to roam the streets again. You were so ignorant. The way your father looked at you should’ve told you enough. It should’ve told you that the war wasn’t going to end with a trade or an apology, it was going to end with a wedding.

The fireworks continued to boom and crackle as they filled the night sky, while a little more blush was applied to your cheek. No one else in your family knew, they thought you were getting married to some commoner who you’d fallen in love with. Only you and your father knew the truth, and resent didn’t even begin to describe what you felt for him.

Your dress was too heavy, your hair was uncomfortable, you had to stand a certain way, or makeup would get on your collar and the entire look would be ruined. You looked beautiful, that’s what they said to you, but could they not see the hurt on your face? Or the fear? If they saw, they didn’t care, and you were guided down the stairs.

Past the home that you grew up in, the walls lined with family portraits, and your family themselves waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. Your mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. When she found out the truth, she’d be crying for real. They were going to find out eventually, you knew they would, you just wished you could see the aftermath of it.

A carriage was waiting for you, one of your family’s own. Normally in an aristocratic wedding, the carriage from the family of the groom would be sent to pick up the bride, but the story your father spewed gave an explanation. The man you loved was too poor to even afford his own carriage, but love doesn’t know money. You scoffed, but held your tongue. If it were for the sake of your family and your country, you’d go along with it.

You would ride your family’s carriage into the forest, about halfways to the demon king’s palace, then you would switch into one of his. That way, your family wouldn’t catch on, that way, they didn’t have to watch in horror as you were given away to a demon, even though your father knew that they wouldn’t allow something like this, but he did it anyway.

It was an unpleasant ride. People rarely ever traversed through the forest so the carriage shook and jolted. You were getting farther and farther away from the noises of celebration, farther and farther away from your people. If only for one night, you would like to celebrate too, the war was a horror that you were living in as well after all.

You pressed your lips together to keep from crying. You’d already cried enough and you truly didn’t know him or how he’d respond to your tears. You spent hours sitting in that chair getting ready for him, what if he were the type to get angry if just one thing was off? If your make up was smudged or your eyes puffy, would he kill you where he stood? You held it in and pretended to be strong.

The carriage stopped and your door was opened, the second he did. The driver gave you a knowing look as he offered you his hand to help you step down. His fingers were cold, that’s all you could think about as you looked over to see the new carriage that you’d be riding in. The same one that had pulled the demon king into your family’s palace. Your heart sank as you realized that he might be in there. You weren’t ready to meet him up close, not yet.

The blond demon was here again, standing at the side of the carriage. Horses from the demon kingdom always felt much larger. Like they were eight foot tall monsters and not animals. You couldn’t believe you were focusing on the horses, you were trying to look at anything, anything, that would keep you from having to get into that carriage. But he was already opening the door and the carriage from your nation had already turned and pulled away, not even waiting for the transaction to be completed.

That felt like the final straw. Being left behind by one of your own and stuck with a demon. A demon who was obviously sick of waiting for you and who looked like he was just going to force you inside himself.

“The king doesn’t like waiting,” he said, gesturing towards the door. With a meek nod, you walked towards it. Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet and the sound of an owl made the entire ordeal more ominous.

You looked to the demon, then back to the carriage door. He didn’t expect you to go in by yourself, did he? Even in your home nation, the gentleman would offer the lady a hand and help boost her up the step, a boost that was much needed, since demons were naturally taller and the step was too high for you to even reach on your own.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, eyes having already practically rolled into the back of his head.

The step seemed as if it came up to your waist in height, yet he asked you what you needed. “I obviously can’t get up there by myself,” you spat, holding your hand out for his help. You’d never felt the skin of a demon before and honestly, you didn’t want to now, but there was no other choice. The deal had already been made.

He didn’t even pass a glance at your hand, stepping closer to you, he placed his large palms around your waist and hoisted you up with little effort. You tried not to squirm in his hold, afraid that he might drop you. Even for a moment, you were so high up, before you were placed into the carriage, with the door being slammed shut in your face.

The carriage began to move before you were even fully seated and you were thrown back. If this was the way the demon kingdom treated their royalty, you could only imagine what was going to happen to you. But you tried not to dwell on it. Your chest was already tight with fear and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead.

This was it, you thought to yourself, even as you gazed out the window, all you could think was that this would be the end of you. All alone, all by yourself. You wondered what your siblings were doing, what your mother was doing, if anyone was even thinking about you at all, of if the celebration was just too much for them to care.

The carriage swayed and thumped against the ground for what felt like hours. The pretty dress you were in had grown a bit damp from your sweat and you tried to fan yourself. You were nervous. Hot and nervous and all you could do was listen to the hooves of the horses as they hit the ground and wait for your eventual marriage.

Then everything stopped. Of course the carriage driver demon was rough with this as well and you were thrown off of the seat and onto the plush floor of the vehicle. You barely had a moment to catch your breath and regain your bearings before the door swung open quickly, making the whole carriage shake from the force.

Still on the floor, still a bit sweaty, with fearful eyes, you came face to face with the demon king. His teeth were once again what you noticed, those big, sharp teeth that were held in a mouth that was grinning at you cheerfully. He looked overjoyed to see you, even in your crumpled up, terrified state.

“By the gods,” he whispered quietly while still looking at you all over. It seemed like his eyes couldn't focus on one place. Your face, your hair, the swell of your breast, the small of your waist, from your heel clad feet, to your hair that was put into an ornate updo, he couldn't get enough, “You're even more beautiful the second time around.”

You were shivering. God you were shivering like you were freezing. Your stomach was in your ass and your heart felt like it was going to leap from your chest. All that time, all the time you spent being picked and prodded at in that chair, being made to look good for him, all that time and it just now hit you what was happening to you. It started before you could even think to stop yourself and while he looked you over like you were a gift from heaven itself, you began to cry.

Tears ran down your pretty cheeks, smearing your makeup in their wake and you started to hic and sob. You had no control over it and the way his smile fell when you began to weep, made you cry even harder. You were going to die by this demon's hands. You were going to die because your father, the coward that he was, sold you off.

Kirishima turned to look at his subordinate, his face a mix of emotions. So quickly, you could barely see it, he grabbed the blond male by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, “I thought I told you to make sure she was taken care off,” he growled those words between those closed sharp teeth.

“I did,” the blond male muttered back. His tone, his attitude, even the way he was looking at the demon king was disrespectful. He didn't seem the least bit afraid or even bothered by the fact that he was being scolded. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Then why is she crying, Kastuki?” He spoke the words slowly before dropping the man back down onto the ground. He landed with a thud, but didn't protest, “I've told you about your driving. Humans are fragile! They can't handle something like that!”

He merely scoffed and rose from the ground, “Then do it yourself next time.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he said anything. Instead, he focused on your trembling form, still sitting on the carriage floor, “Are you alright, darling?”

He tried his hardest to be gentle with his voice, to be quieter so not to scare you. He reached a hand out to you, but you flinched away from it. You didn't know what to say or even what to do. A part of you felt like the second you left this carriage, it would all be real, you'd really be engaged to this demon, you'd really be with him for the rest of your life.

He tilted his head at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile to the best of his ability, “I'm sorry if Katsuki scared you, but I promise nothing will hurt you.” He reached into the carriage and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer to the door with ease, it was like you weighed nothing to him, “but we should really get you inside the castle and into something more comfortable.”

Your body was tense and you tried to think of what to do. A way out of this. How would you be able to run away from a demon, in the whole nation of demons? Would you even be able to go home? Would you getting away make a war start?

You couldn't even think about it to yourself, couldn't even respond before you were picked up by him and held against his firm chest. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, being in his arms made it feel like you were fifty feet above the ground and all you could do was shiver.

He carried you into the castle. It looked nothing like your own home. It was more worn down, but somehow it was bigger. The tallest tower looked like it was piercing the clouds and the windows were the size of the doors you had back home. You sniffled and sobbed the whole time you were carried up the stairs, and when he finally reached out to open the front door, you finally managed to say something.

“P-please,” you managed to stutter out between your pathetic little hics.

“Oh, so she can speak,” he replied back a little too happily, “and here I was thinking you were mute. That wouldn't have bothered me though, you're still gorgeous.”

More tears ran down your face as you tried to regulate breathing, to get more words out, to hopefully beg for return home before the marriage was consummated, “My father…he…he made a mistake. I didn't want this,”

He kept walking into the castle as you spoke, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed off the walls. You were brought to a day room where he sat you down on a rather large couch, so big your feet just barely managed to touch the ground. He kneeled in front of you while you sat and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands, the more he touched you, the harder you seemed to cry, soaking his thick fingers with tears. He knew you were scared of him, but he just couldn't stay away.

“I know you didn't want this,” he cooed, his breath hitting your face, “I wanted this.”

Before you could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wet and suffocating and all you could do was sit there limply as he engulfed your mouth with his, tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

He tasted of meat and alcohol, typical dishes for demons who were celebrating and his grip on you was firm. His hand had slithered down from your cheek to your shoulder, then to your waist. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Your strength and size was nothing compared to him, just one of his hands was almost enough to completely hold your back. You'd hurt yourself more if you fought back.

When he pulled back, you were panting, breathless. Your first kiss and it was so brutish and even worse than that, it was taken by a demon. Your eyes were still wet with tears and lips moist with saliva, but he was looking at you so longingly. The way you makeup was running from the sweat and tears, your hair disheveled from the kiss, the way your chest was rising and falling, he thought you were more enticing now than ever before.

“Such beauty doesn't exist amongst the demons,” he whispered against your lips, threatening to kiss you again, “I could've slaughtered everyone in that tiny, little kingdom, you know, and I was planning on it. Until I saw you.”

He traced up your back to where the buttons for your dress began. You could feel him fiddling with them, trying to get them to pull apart, but his fingers were too big and his nails too sharp. As more time went by with him unable to access your body, he grew frustrated until he just ripped the dress apart in the back. The fabric gave way easily to him. It was probably no harder than ripping paper.

“Your father didn't hesitate when I asked for you,” his hand was warm, almost hot, against your bare back as he kept ripping the fabric away, “a part of me was angry about that. His own daughter, his blood. He gave you away so easily. But I was also ecstatic. Even if you don't want me, I want you. I know how you feel about me, how I as a demon scare you…” the dress was pulled forward, over your shoulders, but he stopped there, “The war may be over on paper, but if you ask for it, I can kill him.”

You gasped, “Why would I want that? Why would anyone want that?” You were shouting and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of how scared you were. Or how easily he mentioned killing someone. Or how a part of you actually wanted it. A small voice in your head wasn't upset about the idea of him killing your father for putting you in this predicament, and that scared you.

“He gave you away,” he stated plainly, “You have every right to be angry. Angry at him for giving you away,” he pulled the dress down so that it was sitting around your waist. His tongue, that large, hot tongue licked down from your neck to your now exposed breast, making your breath hitch, “and angry at me for taking you.”

“You could still give me back,” You begged quickly, hoping that maybe if he was showing some empathy, some care for what you were feeling, he would let you go.

He shook his head and gave you a knowing look, “I wish I could, but I know how you humans work.” He didn't hesitate to reach his hand up beneath the ripped fabric and tulle that was once the skirt of your dress, “you wouldn't be wed again anyways, not after what I'm gonna do to you.”

Your sobs grew even louder at the words. Despite your abstinence, you knew the implications of those words, you knew what he meant. Despite your lack of experience, you knew why he was spreading your legs and easing his body between them, you knew why he was ripping away at your bloomers, exposing your wet core to the cool air.

“I told myself I'd wait till the night of our wedding, but I fear myself slipping with need for you,” this “need” made itself known when he began to grind his hips against you, the fabric of his pants spreading your lips and rubbing directly against your clit, “They sent you here looking like this, and I'm supposed to contain myself?” he bit his lips with those sharp teeth of his, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard that he was ripping holes in it.

“I won't take you without your permission,” he stated, but he was still grinding his clothed cock against you,like his mouth and his body were two completely different entities. He was speaking one thing, but actively doing the opposite.

You whimpered as you felt him, your eyes just leaking tears. You couldn't speak a word, your labored breathing wouldn't let you. Your chest was heaving as you tried to open your mouth, with only sobs and pleads coming out. Instead you just shook your head, praying that that would be enough of him to stop.

Despite your begging he still pressed his lips to yours once more in another passionate kiss. This time he felt even more roughr than the last. Was this a game for him? You thought to yourself. Did he get off on watching you beg and plead, just to take you anyways.

But he stopped nonetheless and pulled away. It seemed like he was straining to even do that, the way he was looking back at you like he could pounce on you again. He let out a shaking, sigh and clenched his fist together before stepping back and finally giving you space away from his large form and body heat.

“The wedding will be held in three days,” he said with a forced smile. He picked up a blanket from the other couch and tossed it over you, covering your modesty. You held onto that blanket as if it were your life line, hiding your nude body behind it as you shivered and looked at him, “I can guarantee I'll stop now, but I'm not so sure about then.”

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door to the day room, leaving you alone in this large demonic mansion with only the ticking of a clock as your company. You were too afraid to move, too afraid of what was to come next. You didn't know where he wanted you to go or even if he wanted you to move at all.

But you did know what he wanted from you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

#my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere my hero #yandere my hero academia x reader #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere my hero x reader #yandere x reader

[yanderecrazysie]

Galeophobia (Kirishima)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Galeophobia

Pairings: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mershark Kirishima, pirate reader, marking, NSFW, NON-CON, belly bulge, excessive cum

Phobia: The fear of sharks

Normally, the setting sun is something that makes you smile, its beautiful pink-and-orange hues are a feast for the eyes. Here and now? It feels as though it is taunting you as your water sloshes over the deck of your sinking ship.

How can nature be so beautiful, yet so cruel?

The storm is completely gone- there’s no sign that it ever happened. No sign, save for one wooden ship taking on water. The jolly rogers above you wave feebly in the light wind before crumbling in on themselves as even the air falls silent. You sigh wearily.

After all the danger you’d put yourself in to get rich, sinking serenely in the middle of calm waters, all of your comrades having fled on lifeboats. Leaving the captain to go down with the ship.

It’s a dumb tradition that the pirates of your country take part in, you thought dully, so why did I bother following it? You wished you weren’t quite so honorable. 

The water ripples below your lazy perch on the ship’s front railings, now reaching past the deck and slowly inching towards you. Somewhere off in the distance, you see something shimmer in the sunset’s pink-tinged water.

You squint, confused, as something bright red begins rising in the clear water right below you, on the end of your ship and the open ocean. Water breaks at the surface as the crimson object reveals itself to be spiky hair on the head of a handsome tan-skinned man with equally-red, intense eyes.

At first, you think he must be dead. After all, how else could there be someone out here in the middle of the ocean, unless they were from a ship already sunken below? But no, the man gazes at you with a lively expression, smiling brightly at you as though he’s never been so happy to see someone else. 

The next conclusion fills you with hope: there must be land nearby! Surely he had swum from an island to your ship. But how far away was it? You look in every direction and see nothing but water.

“Where do you come from?” You ask urgently, “It’s not too far is it? I’m not a strong swimmer.”

The man laughs loudly, “Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name but hold your tongue. After all, this redhead was the only thing between you and the bottom of the ocean.

He holds out his arms as though he’s ready to catch you, “Come on down, babe. I don’t bite. Much.”

He flashes you a smile and you gasp. His teeth are unnaturally sharp and triangular, nothing like a human’s. For the first time, you feel a sense of foreboding and your heart pounds in your chest. 

Your gaze falls below his bare abs under the water and you’re shocked to see that instead of bare legs, there’s gray and white smooth skin that ends in a sharp fish tail. From the shape and the earlier glance at his teeth, you surmise he’s some sort of shark merman. Not human, in any case.

“What are you?” You shriek, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively, all too aware of how close the water was to you now.

The shark-man grins, flashing those sharp teeth at you once more, “My name’s Kirishima. What’s yours, babe?”

“Stay away from me, you fish freak!” You seethe, pulling your compass from your pocket and heaving it at him as hard as you can. It bounces off his chest with a thunk but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “Wait until after I’ve drowned to eat me!”

Kirishima sighs, a soft pout to his features as he tells you, “List babe: you’re either coming down on your own or you’re going to sink.”

The reality of the situation dawns on you just as you feel water licking at your toes. You were going to be eaten by this half-shark, half-man creature. All that would be left of you would be your bones on the bottom of the ocean, alongside your trusty ship. 

Hot tears prick your eyes as you let yourself slide off the railing into the water. If my death is coming, then let it be quick, you thought sadly.

Kirishima blinks in surprise before a smile spreads across his face. This time, his lips are pulled over those vicious teeth, and you can’t help but think it’s a little cute. He reaches his hand out to brush away a few stray tears, but that just causes more to spill.

Strong arms wrap around you and you close your eyes, ready for death. It doesn’t come. Instead, Kirishima nuzzles into your neck, cooing softly into your ear as he holds you close.

He pulls you away from the sinking ship, most of which is already underwater. Your first and only ship- you feel more tears slip down your cheeks. It’s gone now, there’s no getting it back.

“Shh, it’s alright, babe.” Kirishima shushes you softly as he swims farther away, tugging you along through the water. You shiver in his grasp and he takes notice, stopping immediately to run his hands over your body, “Oh man, you’re cold all over.”

The grin that cracks across his face is mischievous and predatory at the same time, “I know how to fix that.”

Something cold and hard brushes against your butt and your heart stops all together before it starts up tenfold again. Don’t tell me he means…

Incredibly sharp teeth pierce through the skin on your neck and you let out a scream. Warm blood pools on the surface as he sucks gently before releasing with a pop. He takes a look at his handiwork- at the wound swelling on your neck- and has the audacity to look proud. 

Kirishima presses against you as he begins peeling your clothes from your skin. Something very large and very hard pokes against your thighs and, although you cannot see it, you already have an idea of what it is. Curiosity has you briefly wondering if it looks like a human’s or not.

You don’t have a chance to look down at it from the angle he’s holding you but, once he tears your pants from your body in a violent, eager motion, you quickly get to know what it feels like. It seems to be shaped the same as any human male’s dick, but it’s much larger than what you thought was possible. 

The bulbous head pushes against your unguarded pussy, pressing and pressing until pop- it forces its way inside. You expected unimaginable pain, but you’re instead overrun with pleasure.

The cock fills you out with each inch shoved deeper. It stretched your insides out and, when you look down, you see a visible bulge in your stomach. He’s crammed into you so much your little human body can barely take it.

Kirishima holds you still while he forces his shark cock deeper and deeper. The bulge in your belly is bigger than ever when he comes to a stop. Unconsciously, your hand moves and puts a hand over the bump in your stomach and you hear the man behind you moan with pleasure as you accidentally massage his cockhead.

The thrusts begin, more brutal than you could ever anticipate. Kirishima uses his arms to keep you in place while he fucks into you, tearing apart your vagina and womb easily with his monster cock. 

You writhe with pleasure, barely able to move from your positioning but trying all the same. It’s all too much- his dick is pressed up against every nerve and pleasure spot you have, each thrust hits all the right places.

Kirishima grabs your hips and bend your body a little, moving you into a position where he can fuck you even deeper and harder. It isn’t long before you come undone on his cock, twitching and spasming from the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

Your pulsating walls prove to be too much for the redhead, and he follows you shortly after. His cum floods your insides, inflating your belly a little around the bulge and filling you so completely that some escapes around his cock and into the water around you, making the water turn more milky than clear.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he rolls his hips, getting out those last few drops of cum. His giant cock finally softens and slips out, dirtying the water even more with the cum that escapes your stuffed-full womb.

“Yeah, I’m keeping you.” Kirishima says, grinning widely as he pulls you close. You don’t bother fighting it as he gives a kick of his tail and takes off swimming with you snug in his arms. 

You can feel cum still rushing out of you as he whisks you away to wherever it is he plans to keep you.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #tw noncon

[35c4p15t]

Apprehension (Yandere x Reader)

E.g. Nanami Kento (JJK), Erwin Smith (AOT), Kirishima Eijiro (BNHA)

CW: yandere, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, suggestive

---

You wanted to hate him. You should hate him. He stole you away, confined you in his house, enforced a routine, and pushed his affections onto you. Windows barred, doors triple locked, no technology without his supervision- escape practically impossible. However, you lacked the desire to leave.

Previous stressors and worries no longer concerned you; he provided everything- clothes, food, entertainment, company. Though, you still suffered from boredom, and he was the only companion you were permitted, your 'situation' with him was a vast improvement from living paycheck to paycheck.

Once, you'd asked him how he could afford everything, but he simply smiled and told you not to worry about it. He must have a job; after the first month he had “brought you home”, as he phrased it, he started going out for a significant portion of every weekday. To your initial dismay, you missed him while he was gone.

Sometimes, you wished he didn't treat you so well- maybe then you could bring yourself to despise him. Maybe if he didn't constantly shower you with compliments, didn't learn and engage in your interests, didn't understand your sense of humour and coax laughter out of you. If he didn't act exactly like your ideal partner, maybe you wouldn't crave his presence, or relish his conversation, or anticipate his affection.

Guilt consumed you, at first, when you caught yourself enjoying being around him- your captor. As time passed, however, you became more compliant, and guilt faded, slowly being replaced by complacency and the confusing compulsion to play house; see him out the door in the morning, greet him when he returns home, even cook and clean after he deemed you trustworthy enough to have access to supplies.

However, you had yet to initiate physical contact. Despite savoring his touch- each embrace, every kiss, each time his arm wrapped around you, every time he pulled you close, and even when he started to draw you into his chest in bed at night. Part of you yearned for more, but the small remnants of doubt and guilt had prevented you from commencing contact.

Until finally, the last of your apprehension was overcome by your desire.

After spending the entirety of the day together, the two of you had retired to bed. Beginning to curl his arm around your waist, you halted his movements as you turned to face him, your heart rate increasing while you tilted your head up and forward to press your lips to his.

Warmth blossomed and spread throughout your chest as his mouth moved against yours, placing his hand on your cheek before licking your lip, then sliding his tongue inside to explore your mouth. A blissful moment passed before you pulled away, breathless and blushing.

“I love you so much, honey. I can't wait to show you just how much."

#yandere #soft yandere #yandere male #male yandere #tw yandere #x reader #reader insert #tw kidnapping #tw stockholm syndrome #suggestive #nanami kento #yandere nanami #nanami x reader #yandere x reader #jjk x reader #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #yandere erwin smith #erwin x reader #aot x reader

[ghostsy]

Paint

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, implied abuse, imprisonment, dissociation, nsfw, slight (v slight) daddy kink, noncon

A/N: this is pretty short, just like...a yandere kirishima thought dump

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO X READER

“Tell me you want me.”

The ceiling was white. She hated white, she decided. A blank canvas. Empty. She was so tired of empty. It was too smooth, no popcorn textures for her to count, nothing for her mind to grab onto. 

“I want you.”

A sigh, as if the words themselves gave him breath. Lips latched to her neck, biting and sucking and bruising. Too sharp teeth nicked at her skin, little rivulets of blood trickling down. But he wasn’t done.

“Tell me you need me.”

The walls were white too. Too dull, too cold, too sterile. Maybe he’d paint them if she asked. If she was good.

“I need you.”

His hands glided up and down, cupping her tits and squeezing at her waist. To make sure she was really there. In his bed. In his arms. Underneath him. Where she belonged. His touch was always too hot. Too hot as his fingers pushed her panties to the side, burning against her most sensitive place. 

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”

Blue was a good color. She hadn’t seen the sky in a good long while. Maybe blue would let her breathe.

“I’ll never leave you.”

No matter how many times the words were forced from her lips, no amount of locks and chains and ropes and collars would ever soothe his paranoia. That didn’t stop him from using the accessories, however. There was a phantom itch at her ankle, underneath the too tight metal, that she would be unable to reach. 

He raised his head to watch her face, fingers taking their time, thumb swirling in circles and stars while his middle and ring finger, calloused and rough from years of breaking and being broken, pushed into her, petting and curling until the burning feeling inside her turned from disgust to anticipation.

Blue. Blue walls, she reminded herself. She changed her mind. She didn’t want to see the sky. It would just give her ideas, give her hope that had nowhere to go but to the void. Yellow?

“You’re mine.”

Yellow was a happy color. Would yellow walls make her happy?

“Say it.”

No, yellow was too happy. She feared the paint would mock her with its out of reach joy each time she caught its gaze.

His hand was at her throat. Why was it at her throat? Oh.

“I’m yours.”

Red? Not red. All she ever saw was red. His hair, his eyes, his punishments. All red. She decided she hated red more than white.

He ripped at the last of her clothes. Though, they weren’t really clothes, she thought. It was a shame. She used to love lace. And along with that love went her dignity.

She ruled out green for the same reasons as blue. Not pink either, he’d just use it as another excuse to infantilize her. 

“You’re beautiful, you know?”

What was left? Her mind was blanking on colors. What was his question?

“Don’t I get a thank you?”

There was a spark of irritation in his words. A spark that sent lighting through her nerves.

She fluttered her lashes, licking her lips, and his eyes glazed over, “Thank you, Daddy.” 

Yeah, fuck pink. 

That was close. She reached her head off the pillow, planting a kiss at his lips, soft and sweet, just the way he liked, to make up for her indiscretion. She had to be more careful with her colors. 

He smiled that razor sharp smile, and dipped his head to her breasts, taking a nipple in between his teeth, fingers speeding they’re motions. The tingling at her chest and in her gut was making it hard to focus.

Colors. What colors would she paint the walls? The knot in her stomach was growing, nerves dancing inside waiting with bated breath for the song to climax.

Black? Black could work.

The knot tightened, song roaring in her ears. Maybe the dark would hide her from her nightmares. Tighter and tighter, and louder and louder. Hide her from her shame.

Snap!

Her vision went white, and try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to hate the color still. 

“Fuck,”

The moonlight shone through the window bathing him in an ethereal light; she let her eyes wander his defined muscles as she came back down to Earth. Almost like a sculpture. What a nice view that could have been.

Drool was dripping from his fangs as he pulled his fingers from her, and she cursed herself for mourning the loss. His eyes were half lidded, glowing as he took the dewy fingers in his mouth, tongue licking sinfully over the digits, savoring the taste of her.

“You’re perfect.”

Black wouldn’t work. Too depressing, he’d tell her. He’d never be able to see her body. And to even suggest denying him of his rights would result only in his anger.

He guided his hand to her mouth, and she took his fingers between her lips, in and out and in and out, sucking the taste of his spit, and the taste of herself from them. She ran her tongue across the underside of the digits, meeting his gaze, wide eyed and wanting, and a sound more animal than man was forced from his throat.

She had to show some form of appreciation to spare herself from the angry red colors that reared their head whenever he felt she needed correction, drowning and burning her in heavy, suffocating lava.

He was shuffling out of his pants now. She couldn’t think of any more colors. Orange? No, orange reminded her of a different, more explosive type of anger—he always liked using orange as a threat. She tried her hardest to look away from the monster between his legs, but as he spread her knees, tip pressed against her, she spared a glance.

Fuck that was a bad idea, big and menacing and pushing into her. Oh god. Oh fuck. Stop. Too much. Too much. The walls, think about the walls. She hated this. Blue, black, green, red Red RED, fuck, please. 

The growl in his voice made her toes curl, and she hated herself for it. He groaned as he sheathed himself inside her, red locks tickling her neck, her vision going black; she swore she could feel him in her throat.

She hated it, hated the way she couldn’t hold back a whimper, hated the way he huffed out a laugh, tongue sweeping out to lick across his fanged teeth. She always hated this next part the most though.

“Tell me you love me.”

Try as she might, she would never get used to it. All of her nerves stood on end, and she found herself grateful for the lack of vibrance. It would have been too much, overwhelmed what little sensibilities she had left within her.

Maybe white was good. White was dull. White was empty.

“I love you.”

She decided she’d rather empty than any feeling at all.

#yandere bnha #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere mha #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere eijiro #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #angsty yandere is best yandere

[confessioncassette]

𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐞𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

"𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟'𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫."

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮'𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚, 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧?, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥?, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟑.𝟒𝐤

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

You should be grateful now. At least that’s what he tells you. 

He doesn’t come often, but more now than he did. He’ll come to inspect your prison thoroughly as he scans the stone walls and floors to make sure there aren't any holes. He will double check for sharp objects or rope hidden behind rocks and the empty crates. It’s not like you’d be able to leave anyways, your prison door is guarded at all hours of the day and the only window is nearly 20 feet above you. 

But usually, he’ll just stand there and stare while you eat, or better yet - get undressed for your bath, which is usually conducted by his right hand man. A man with loose long red hair decorated with little braids, tattoo’s covering his skin, teeth like razors and could easily be the biggest man you’ve ever seen. His muscles looked like they could crush your bones by not even laying a finger on you. 

They both dress in furs and are decorated with beaded necklaces and golden arm bands. Depending on the time of year, you guess, they will dress according to the season. During summer, they won’t wear shirts but dress their shoulders with fur paired with thick pants covered in armor. During the colder months, which you think is happening right now, they will dress in thick clothing with furs and a cape. 

You think you’ve been here almost 8 or 9 months, maybe? Time is getting hazy as the days drag on. It’s not that you’ve got no fight in you, it’s just - there's nothing you can do. The technology of this tribe was something you've never seen before. These people didn’t look like you either. One small move and you're dead. 

Dragon King Bakugou and Kirishima, you’ve come to learn. You didn’t know much about their tribe, hell - you didn’t even know if they spoke the same language as you until 2 months into being captured. It seemed as though Bakugou wanted to disorient you more than not knowing where you were, but by having no one speak to or near you. 

Bakugou is right, though. You should be grateful, considering the circumstances. You don’t remember much when you were first captured. Your mind and sight were hazy and everything felt like a fever dream, but you do remember hands gripping your body as your clothing and jewelry were being ripped off. When you came to you noticed you were wearing a ragged dress with nothing underneath. Your prison had nothing in it but the lit candles glowing amongst the stony walls and some empty crate boxes. 

Over time, Bakugou and Kirishima would bring you “gifts,” if you could call them that.

These gifts include clothing without rope or little statues carved out of wood. It’s never anything that has a sharp edge or something to use to escape. But now you wear a nicer dress and a thick cape to keep you warm. They’ve even gifted you a thick fur rug to sleep on.

The routine is simple and consistent. Every morning, Kirishima delivers breakfast and watches you eat. He will always watch you carefully - just in case. He’ll do the same for lunch and dinner. 

Sometimes after dinner, Kirishima will brush your hair before bed. He swears that he has to do it for you, “for your safety and per the Dragon Kings’ orders.” Sometimes he’ll even admit that it’s his favorite part of the day. He’ll take a seat and pat the ground, inviting you to join him. He insists that you sit nestled between his thick legs. He likes to use his very own brush to comb through your hair while he strikes up conversation. Well, most of the time he’ll talk at you rather than with you. For the first few months, Kirishima would try to instigate you to talk to him, but it didn’t usually work. But as of late, you’ve grown to have some sort of acquaintance with him. After a while, you got lonely, and Kirishima helped with that. But you were still careful not to get too close, he is the Dragon King’s right hand man after all. 

Every few days, Kirishima and Bakugou will bring down a tub with buckets of hot water and a basket of herbs. You’ve noticed that their favorites were a mixture of lavender, rosemary, mint and thyme and if the season called for it, they’ll bring crushed rose petals. 

Both men insist on taking control of bath time, whether Bakugou is there or not, Kirishima’s routine is always the same. If you’re honest, bath time can be quite relaxing. He will start by taking off his cape first, then his shirt before catering to you. 

“So I don’t get dirty, pretty lady.” He’ll shrug. 

This time, Bakugou joins and takes a seat on a crate across from you as he watches Kirishima begin bath time. His vermillion eyes are fixated on you as he crosses his arms and sits back.

You’re used to this by now. You’ve lost the nerves of being completely naked and vulnerable in front of them. For what it’s worth, these two men have been the only people you have seen the whole time being here, so you’ve come to trust their eyes and bodies. They’ve really done nothing to harm you, they treat you exceptionally well other than keeping you in this stone prison. 

But also, you’ve done nothing to disobey them. You’ve done nothing wrong to make them angry. When Bakugou storms into your cell after learning that you didn't eat the beans for lunch, you’ll sit there and watch him. He’ll get up close, snarl in your face with his nose flared and shove your leftover food in a bowl into your chest and demand you eat it. 

“Eat your fucking food, you shitty woman. We don’t waste food here.” And you’ll nod. Easy as that.

His face will soften the slightest, probably due to how easy it is to control you, but his eyes still flare you up with fire. You try not to notice that when you grab the bowl from him, his hands linger a few seconds before pulling away.  

Kirishima begins to undress you. His knuckles glide over your skin gently, creating goosebumps over your arms. He always keeps his face so close to your neck while he does this, but he never gives contact. It’s not like you haven't thought about feeling his touch more than he gives. You wonder if this “longing” is how you truly feel, or is it because you’re stuck with them? The constant teasing has set you on edge lately. But more importantly, what would the redhead do if you leaned into his touch as he takes his time to undress you? 

But you can’t. It’s the rules. 

Apparently, it’s so important that you stay still for him. He’ll move you if need be. They both like to control you. You’re starting to think that you’re their shiny toy instead of a captive. They haven’t even asked you to do labor, so what are you there for? 

“Feels so nice to be clean, yeah? Got these herbs freshly picked for you this morning!” He chimes from behind you. His calloused hands rub the herbs deep into your shoulders. For a man his size, he’s quite gentle when he wants to be. It’s usually when he’s bathing you that he takes his time with. When he chooses to feed you when Bakugou isn't around he likes to feed you - or more so he loves to hold your water cup while you drink. On occasion, he won't let up as you’re forced to gulp water. You’ll tap his thigh and whimper, shake your head, anything to get him to stop but he won’t stop until he wants to. 

Or sometimes when he’s brushing your hair, he likes to pull your hair until your head is against his chest and you're forced to look at him. “Such a pretty neck,” he’ll whisper as his hungry eyes devour you whole. 

“Answer him.” Bakugou barks from across the room. The flickering light from the candles seem to dance over his face as he stares you down, awaiting your response. 

“Yes, Kirishima, it feels good to be clean, thank you.” 

He hums in response. 

“Gotta get down here too,” he says before quickly plunging his hand over your stomach and sliding right between your thighs. As Kirishima’s thick fingers dip in and around your pussy, you take a sharp inhale. Kirishima’s skin feels hot against yours. His fingers dance around your clit precisely, flicking you gently. His movements burn you up, you’re desperate to roll your hips to meet his fingers. But you're careful not to piss Bakugou off, you never know what kind of reaction will set him off. But this time, when you look up through your lashes, you notice that his chest heaves and he adjusts his hips. 

“Enough, Kirishima.” 

Bakugou’s voice is softer this time, raspy and breathless. But from over here, you can tell his eyes are still set a blaze, fixated just on you.

Kirishima groans in a mild protest, but smiles anyway.

“Bath time is over, sweet girl. Time for bed, alright?” 

Rough hands hook under your shoulders to pick you up abruptly. The coldness of the autumn air hits you just before big arms caress you in a wool towel. 

—

In the depths of your slumber, you’re awakened by your name. 

“Get up- get up, ah, awake up, sweet girl-” rough hands that you know all too well gently shake you. 

“Kirishima, what is it? Is everything okay?” You turn over to meet Kirishima’s face half lit up by the candles. The room is lit brightly by the full moon peeking through the window. You’re not sure why you’re so panicked, this has never happened before and with Kirishima’s tone it does not sound good.

The redhead sushs you with a thick finger over your lips. He looks stressed as he leans over you. His eyebrows furrowed as he licks his lips. 

“It’s the Dragon King. He’s made a decision.” 

“A decision? What do you mean? What decision?” You whisper, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“Bakugou made the decision to kill you at first dawn.” And your heart drops to your stomach. 

“What-what did I do?” Your palms begin to sweat as a lump in your throat forms, and it's getting hard to breathe. This can’t be, you’ve been so good. You’ve never disobeyed - you’ve never-

“He doesn’t find you useful, but I can help.” Fear turns to confusion real fast, but your heart continues to thump loudly through your ears. 

“H-how?” It feels impossible to talk right now. You don’t want to die, not tomorrow, not next week, not unless you can control it. Bakugou never seemed to have a problem with you, where did this come from? Maybe you’ve missed something, like look at him wrong-

“I can get you out of here, I can help you get out without anyone noticing. I’ve already relieved the guard of his duty tonight outside your door.” He smiles at you softly, but his eyes are dark. 

Hungry. 

His fingers touch your chin gently to raise your face to his before gliding along your jawline and finding estate on the back of your neck. 

“I just, want to- before,” 

You place your hand on his bicep and squeeze, feeling hopeful now that Kirishima is here and wants to help you escape your death. God knows what Bakugou is capable of. What kind of death does he plan for you? 

“How will you help me?” You say a little desperate. 

The hand on the back of your neck squeezes - a little too hard. Your body stiffens because you know. You know you just fucked up. 

You know how sensitive Kirishima is at times. He hates when you ignore him.

“You must’ve forgotten your manners.” The hand on the back of your neck now pushes against your collarbone, roughly pushing you back down onto the fur rug. 

“Don’t forget that you’re still on our time. You’re still a prisoner.”

Kirishima clicks his tongue as he slides his other hand over your thigh. “You sound so ungrateful.”

His long hair tickles your face as he looks down over you. There’s a slight smirk in the corner of his lips and his eyes look wild. Primal. He’s so close that his musky scent fills the atmosphere around you. 

“After all we’ve done for you, huh? Acting like a spoiled bitch while we wait on you hand and foot.” 

Thick finger slide up roughly to cup your sex. The shock of it makes you squirm, you roll your hips away to ease up the friction but his hand stays firmly against you. 

“You’re so eager to leave? Huh? You wanna leave?” He rubs his palm into your clit, you inhale sharply, trying not to make any noise. His eyes are locked into yours as he watches you try and refuse his touch. 

“You wanna leave me? After everything? I cooked all your meals, you know. I was here when he wasn’t.” 

“Answer me,” he gently slaps your cunt. 

He doesn’t want to be too mean. He wants to cherish you. You have no idea how fucking crazy you make him. Bakugou’s had him on a tight leash. Won’t let him give into his desires. He knows how Bakugou feels, he knows, but he can’t be second. He has to show you first. 

“No, Kirishima, I don't-don’t want to leave you!” You cry out. At this point you’ll do anything he wants. It’s confusing, everything is so confusing. But you know how these men operate. You give them what they want. Tell them what they want and they will ease up on you, they always have. 

Kirishima groans. He dips his hips down in between your legs to grind his hard cock over your sex. The thick material of his pants gives too much friction.

And he’s big. He feels thick and long. You can feel every inch of him as he drags his cock up and down your cunt.

“I didn’t think so. When I let you go you’re going to come- oh fuck, youre coming to live with me.” 

Such a pretty little thing like you. God, how could he not give in? He’s been infatuated with you since the day they found you hunting for food. He could catch better food for you. You’d never have to lift a finger for the rest of your life if you just let him. And you’ve had him for almost a year and you want to leave? 

You never seemed to notice the stares from Kirishima, the light moans he accidentally lets out when you touch him. You never understand why he storms out of the room at random. Because he just can’t handle how fucking hard you make him. 

How dumb were you. Such a sweet little dumb thing. 

“But-”

Ignoring you, Kirishima makes haste of freeing himself from his pants. He’s huffing against your neck, and his skin feels hot against yours. His tongue swipes along your jawline and he growls when he tastes your salty skin. 

He leans back on his knees, his cock in hand as he begins to slide it between your folds.

“Going to make you all mine, all fucking mine.” 

He opens your legs that lay over his thighs even wider to see your cunt glisten in the candle light. 

“See, I knew you wanted me too. Fuck sweet girl, you’re all a mess for me.”

He can’t decide on whether to look at you or watch himself dive into your cunt as he lines himself up to your entrance. 

“Look at me,” he huffs and you obey. “God, you’re so good - you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He pushes himself slowly into your cunt while watching your every movement. His eyes flicker from your face, your chest, your stomach, your cunt and back up to your eyes and you can feel every single inch stretching you out. Your mouth drops open as you let out a moan arching your back, giving him more access to push inside you. 

“Oh fuck, sweet girl- You feel even better than I’ve dreamed of.” 

“Kiri-” you groan, feeling every inch of his thickness.

“Shh, I’m almost there. God, I’m surprised you could even fit me. You’re taking me so well, it’s like you were made for me.”

As he bottoms out, his head lolls back in ecstasy. He’s already drunk on how you feel, how tight you are around him. He can’t control himself much longer. 

Kiri leans over your body now, wrapping his arms around you tightly. It’s almost suffocating, he’s so much bigger than you. You’re surprised he’s not killing you with his size. 

“Atta girl, ‘m going to move, yeah?” He presses a kiss to your temple and inhales your scent. His hips begin a slow pace, just to coat his cock in your juices. And once he does, the sounds of your wet cunt being slowly fucked by him fill the room. 

He begins a faster pace, pushing your body roughly into the ground it almost takes your breath away. 

Your nails dig into his back as your teeth find estate on his shoulder. You feel the need to hold on as your body gets rocked and pressed into the fur. 

“Fuck-” he growls into your ear, “fuck yes, more, baby, fucking keep going with that.” 

You apply more pressure biting down on him as your nails dig deeper into his back. But it feels so fucking good, it feels so good to hurt him and feel him fuck into you. Your core is buzzing and burning, the way he's humping up into you is pressing so perfectly against your clit. The way he’s holding you tightly in place and lapping at your neck with his tongue makes you want to let go. 

“Sweetheart, I feel you clamping down on me-” Kirishima’s pace is rough now, his right hand slides down your body to grip your hip. His fingertips dig into your skin and push your hips into him with every thrust. 

“Cum, fucking cum-” The hand thats bruising your hips dip down between your bodies as he presses circles into your clit. The way his fingers dance around your most sensitive spot, you feel yourself come undone under him. Your core gets tighter and tighter-

“Who owns you? Say it.” He barks through gritted teeth. He slaps at your cunt one more time before you let go.

“You, Kirishima, you- oh my god,” you cry as your cunt flutters around him. Your legs are wrapped tightly around his body best they can and you bite down onto Kiris shoulder. 

Kiri groans and roughly grabs your chin to pull you off his shoulder to roughly kiss you. His tongue forces his way through your lips and you’re so high that you don’t care. His tongue dances with yours roughly. 

He then sits up on his knees to chase his own release. 

“I own you. Mine.” His eyes are wild, completely hazy with you in his sights. His face flushed with need. The hairs on the side of his face stick to his cheeks and neck due to sweat. His chest heaves as he takes your hips into his tight grip. 

He pounds into you at a rough pace, his skin glistening with every movement. He licks his lips as he watches your tits bounce roughly while your face scrunch up as you cum again. 

You cry out in pleasure, repeating his name over and over again as he grunts with every thrust. 

“Fuck- coming for you,” he says breathless as he sheaths himself inside you and stills. You feel every pulse of his cock as he releases his cum deep in your pussy. You feel the warmth fill you up to the brim. He’s moaning, looking down at you through his lashes as his hand explores your tits and grabs around your neck gently. It's too much… you feel so full.

He doesn’t give you a moment before he covers your face and neck in gentle kisses. He brushes your hair out of your face before kissing you deeply. 

You can feel him still hard inside you and he won’t let you move when you wiggle to let some of the cum out…

All thoughts are broken when you hear the wooden door open to your cell and slam shut. 

“Kirishima, what the fuck.”

#manipulation #tw dubcon #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima smut #bnha smut #tw noncon #kirishima bnha #kirishima x reader smut #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou x reader #yandere #yandere kirishima

[loversdelusions]

Hiya First I wanna say , I hope you get well soon and get plenty of rest 💗 and if request are open could I request Yandere kirishima (I love how you wrote him ) maybe nsfw HCs ? Could the reader be female if possible if not no worries 🐢(get well soon )

♥ Yandere Eijirou Kirishima ♥

|< Addiction >|

@ESORA_illust

Lust & Power: Dominance

He needs power. He loves it when you're helpless.

He's a little... Off. You can tell immediately by the way his eyes move.

The issue with Kiri is that he's so underhanded in his methods. He loves messing around with you when you're in public.

Man will never leave you alone. When the obsession started, it was a 'mistake'. When he accidentally bumped into you from behind, gripping your hips so tightly, and grinding against you.

It made his nerves burn when your skin bubbled with goosebumps, a shiver running through you with a slight arch to your back. It was instinctive, or better yet- the frightened look in your eyes when you'd turned to look at your assailant.

He likes to catch you off guard. Leave marks, to touch you when you can't make a sound, it gives him control he can't handle.

He likes when you're chubby, cause he thinks it's cute, also damn he loves to pinch you. Your skin is soft, and he loves to softly pinch your arm and cheeks.

He's not so soft when it comes to your more sensitive areas. He gets rough with you a lot, in public or otherwise. You won't even notice when his hands sneak beneath your skirt and pinch the inside of your thighs. the back of where your thighs meet the curve of your ass when you stand in front of him- He's always touching you.

God fuck it takes all his will not to take you to the train just so he can grope you, pinch your perfect tits and rip your underwear despite you gripping at him, inhaling in your "No" and "don't"

He loves the way you shiver, knowing you're exposed beneath the short skirt you chose to wear that day, the way you pulled at it when people walked by or emptied the space enough to notice.

Oh god, the fucking pleasure he gets from toying with you underneath your skirt, watching closely the people around, only to whisper to you while you held your breath just how much you're spilling down your thighs.

Yeah, he doesn't understand why you're mad when you get off the train. You guys aren't even together. Not to you, at least. He already knows you're his, so it really doesn't matter to him that you're fighting him on this, because really you have no real power here.

It won't take him long to drag you to a place he can have you.

He likes the visual stimulation of observing you. He'll lay out over his bed, or his table, or damn near anything you can lay on. Just so he can stare at your skin, the bruising on your thighs where his fingers pulled at you.

A long-winded way to say he's really into humiliation.

He loves words of affirmation, so god knows you will hear him groan the most vile things into your ear.

"How can you expect me to hold myself back when you're dressed like this?"

"Look at this, peaches." "You're so wet it's fucking hilarious. Let's not be modest here, your pussy is tellin' you the kinda slut you are."

"You can't decide to be fuckin clueless baby... Dressin' like that... Reacting, like this..."

"The way you walk like you want people to pull at your hips - the skirt. Why bother wearin' underwear at all, huh?"

If you resist he'll force you to listen to the way you swallow his fingers, to watch, and hear the noises that make you blush and cover your face.

He likes seeing that. That scared but determined look on your face as you fight humiliation. He will twist and grind and mould the story till it is you who is objectifying him, and how it was all to satisfy you. You. You.

He likes biting a lot. He leaves so many marks, red, purple and blue, he loves making your skin his own, showing you just how easily he bypasses your boundaries. No matter where you look you will realize, you belong to him.

I did say he was possessive.

Kiri l o v e s giving head. He just loves it. He likes eating you out so much it becomes practically painful, you might as well have to beg him to stop. He will use it to his own advantage too (but I might discuss it later.)

Not cause he vanilla or anything, but missionary, or any position where he can clearly gaze down at the marks he's left on your skin, is his preferred one.

He loves to use your body like it was not intended. Fucking your thighs, your tits, especially if he could watch the bruises grow with the rough handling, covering the others he's left before.

He's dominant, and demanding, arrogant during sex. He absolutely cannot be vulnerable during sex but likes it when you are willing and consensual.

He loves make-up sex.

As for punishment? Severe Sensory deprivation. SO MUCH OF IT. He loves watching the reaction when you can't see, mouth gagged and drooling, ears covered with strong noise cancelling headphones and tied the fuck up.

Yes, it's extreme, but the way you react to the surprise of being suddenly touched... Unrivalled.

You can't feel anything but the mattress, (he would suspend you in the air, but I think it'd be too much work for him lmao) you can't hear anything nor see, it's complete darkness and cold air against your flushed skin.

Until you feel his hot mouth, stark against the cold of your skin. Only for a moment until he disappears again. He'll wait until you are calm but anxious for his next touch, and then he'll start toying with you slowly, edging you until you can barely squirm any longer, cooling you down suddenly with temperature play, just to softly caress you, hot sloppy kisses on your cool skin, on your nipples...

You'll feel when he wants to fuck you.

Edging is his game, and he's good. Kiri will make sure by the time he's about to burst through his pants, you will be shivering with anticipation, making sure you won't last a minute.

then he'd start.

He likes it rough.

too bad for you, though.

He's a pro hero, after all, he will outlast you. This ends pretty usually, with your weak, sniveling, drooling self crying for him to stop.

I already told you he likes to use you as his ragdoll. He won't stop until he's done.

Then you'll be sitting in darkness, listening only to defeating silence and your heartbeat, feeling nothing but the ache, and fullness inside you.

Softer sides: Care & mental health.

He enjoys degradation sure, but he loves you still. He wakes in the morning and gazes at your body messed up with his little shark attacks, and he'll run his hands over your skin. Pull you to him softly and pepper you with kisses.

I think he realizes how demanding he gets. He's generally low on his empathy though he still understands what's wrong and right. Adhering to that is a choice. He feels a bit shitty, he wants to be the manly man you deserve.

He'll take his time to take care of you. Ice your bruises, touch his masterpieces... His art. He knows it's wrong.

He can't help the satisfaction he gets looking at your skin. You were so beautiful.

You're too exhausted to argue, to move. It always is after he's had his way with you. He'll carry your spent body to the tub and help clean you up. Trust me, this is the best ending you'll get because if you were being punished you'd be left tied up and sticky. He'd be too happy with himself seeing you dripping with his cum to untie and help.

Pictures will be taken. He's a bit narcissistic.

Either way, he'd make breakfast, feed you, wipe away your tears. Resist the temptation to play with you.

He'd whisper how amazing you were last night, how happy you made him, pull you into his arms, and cuddle you. Nuzzle into your neck, kiss you sweetly, remind you why you'd ever fallen into his hands.

His sweet side is too sweet. That's the problem. He buys you little gifts and pours you your tea, makes sure you have the first bite before he does, walks you home, and makes sure you're comfortable after everything.

Your favorite movies and TV shows will be played, your favorite food ordered, and your every whim played to. He'll let you take shots at him and kiss you afterward, baby you like you are the most wonderful thing in the world.

He always feels like you are the victim of his lust, even if it is mutual, so he'll treat you as if you have sacrificed yourself to him. It's annoying and endearing.

He'll spend the rest of the day making you laugh, picking you up and taking care of you, even if you tell him it's fine.

His Point Of View:

Kirishima thinks you are the sun and stars of his universe.

While he can get a bit rough, he isn't always like that.

He can be soft, and sweet. Press you softly against silk sheets he'd prepared specially for you, caress your skin like he was touching petals, hold you close like you were the reason he could breathe.

Especially for your first time, he'd inhale your scent, and melt. Kissing you desperately, fighting his ravenous instincts, and trying to remain soft with you.

You could feel his hands tense, squeeze, and relax, trying to hold himself back. He'd spend hours going down on you until you can't move anymore.

He does not like it when you give him oral. Unless he's drunk.

He wants to treat you like the beauty you are, and while the idea of seeing you on your knees makes him go wild, he can't bring himself to disrespect you in that way.

He can be super loving, protective, and sensitive. Yet, all of a sudden, he will begin to harass you. His face will remain the same, too. Kind eyes, soft smile, gentle words....While his hands grope at you.

You are his addiction. He drinks you in like an alcoholic.

A/N: Okay, so this may be a bit disjointed because I wrote this like months ago and then took a break from Tumblr. Still, I hope you guys enjoy this.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha art #bnha smut #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #mha #kirishima eijirou #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima smut #kirishima #kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro x y/n #yandere kirishima #yandere #yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere my hero academia

[ghostlyforxst]

GENDER: Gender Neutral Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere Tendencies, Inappropriate Language, Snake creatures (nagas), punishments, and Mentions of Gore

CHARACTERS: Bakugo Katsuki & kirishima eijirou

WORD COUNT: 1k

A/N- it's random, short oneshots with headcannons. In my opinion, uhm, it helps get more written and more for you all to read. So, enojoy and posses my inbox with your ghostly desires!

Ps. @officialabortive asked for pt. 2! Letting you all know Tumblr is not allowing me to reply or comment on any post, I'm not ignoring yall! If you have question or anything, the best way to get ahold of me is through my messages or inbox!

The two serpents cradled you, brushing past the leafy undergrowth as both approached their nest. Your lip quivered, crying, and squirming in their grasp. You needed to get home, even if your parents were no longer with you, it was better than being with them.

"So restless," Kirishima cooed, "we're close to the den."

"I don't want to be at your stupid den!" You grunted, your fist pummeling against his chest. "I want to go to my home!"

"That's not nice," He glowered.

"You're not nice," you sneered, "you took me away from home and killed my parents!"

Bakugo whirled around and snarled, "You're acting like a fucking brat, brats get punishments and apparently that's what you need!"

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU disciplining you by lashing you with their tail or leaving you out of the nest to suffer from the chilled air that nipped at your skin, teaching you that you need them—who's going to keep you warm if they're not there?

*•.¸✧PLATONIC YANDERE BAKUGO tends to chasten you the most, you reckoned, but both equally discipline you. Kirishima is just the more lenient one.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU pampering you after each punishment; cuddling, assuring each other that you won't do what you did again, tickling your face with kisses, and et cetera.

_

Their soft snores and murmurs were still perceivable, thankfully, since you had managed to detach yourself from the grasp of their twitchy tails. You smiled, short of breath, and tread towards the entrance of the hollow tree—this was your opportunity.

You peered your shoulder, their snoozing silhouettes had stayed motionless.

"It'll be okay," you whispered.

You stepped out into the night and made a run for it, haven't a clue which direction your massacred village was. You couldn't be bothered by that because you were going to be elsewhere, gone from their suffocating presence. You tore through the foliage, your bare feet becoming tender and your breathing becoming ragged, eager to escape. A heartening feeling fluttering within your chest, but then only to be vanquished when hearing the low hissing and crunching of leaves from behind. You yelped, bawling, being plucked from the ground.

"Where the hell did you think you were going, huh!?" Bakugo hollered, furiously.

"Let me go, Let me go, Let me go!" You screamed, repeating as you clawed at his hands.

"You'll learn to accept and love us as your parents, give it time." Kirishima assured, coming from behind Bakugo.

"No, the both of you are delusional. I'm not your son/daughter and you'll never be my parents, I hate you!"

Bakugo's chest rumbled angrily and Kirishima whined dismally. You knew after those words, you were in trouble.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE BAKUGO hauling you back to their den, scolding you the whole way, and tossing you roughly into their nest.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU punishing you by scourging you with the small of their tail, three lashes for each of them, and a scolding from Bakugo immediately followed after.

*•.¸✧. PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU never trusting you by yourself again, one is always with you or a person they trust is with you.

_

A month, a month of feeding the two nagas delusions of being your parents. Your spirit and resistance had been demolished. To them you were progressing, recuperating various of their affections. You haven't even tempted to make an escape again, being able to trust you to take you outside.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU sunbathing on a sizable rock, you snuggling between them. Even if you were drenched in sweat and complaining that you were hot, but that's if they did not feel like moving.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU floating in the river having you rest on one of their chest when the summer days were sweltering.

You and Kirishima splashing each other while Bakugo is preparing lunch for all of you.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU trying to teach you how to hunt, but your standing dumbfounded or crying because bakugo killed a rabbit.

_

You turned away, pushing Bakugo's hand away, refusing to eat the raw meat.

"You need to eat," Bakugo urged.

Three days, three days since you've been taken and three days since you haven't eaten. The two captures were worried, they could only get you to eat the fruit they've forage for.

"No."

"Why not!?" Kirishima asked, panicking.

"It's uncooked."

"Stop being picky and eat it!" Bakugo frowned, shoving the bloody meat towards you.

You turned a deaf ear and scooted away from him.

Bakugo huffed, "Fine, you can starve!"

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE BAKUGO learning human recipes to be able to get your 'picky' self to eat.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE BAKUGO loving the pleased hums and praises you give him after eating his food.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE BAKUGO making sure his ingredient are the best and freshest for his little snakling. Kirishima will start their own little garden of vegetables and herbs, getting you to partake in it for some quality time.

_

You look between the two, watching as Bakugo and Kirishima bicker over a name for you.

You loured before suggesting your name, "what about Y/n?"

The two halted and pondered on the name before nodding their heads.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU agreeing on your name because that's what you wanted.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU before deciding on your was going to name you [favorite other name]

_

READER CALLING THEM PAPA:

*•.¸✧ CHILD READER conflicted with themselves, despising the uneasiness of being alone. Though calling out for Kirishima and Bakugo, but silence greeting them.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU coming back from hunting to find you distressed, triggering their primal instincts to protect and them hastily asking questions.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU baffled when you leaped into their arms, finally addressing them as your papas.

*•.¸✧ PLATONIC YANDERE KIRIBAKU feeling euphoric when hearing those words from your mouth and praising you there and then.

"Such a good little snakling you are, our baby."

"We're so proud of you!"

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima x reader #naga kirishima #naga bakugou #naga x reader #kiribaku #yandere kiribaku #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #kiribaku x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #anime #anime x reader #gender neutral reader #oneshots #headcanons

[envy-of-the-apple]

Mutual Fascination

I do have in mind a part two for this if enough ppl like it. Enjoy for now~

Naga AU! Highly inspired by the world building of the bakudeku fic in the eye of the storm it stopped updating back in 2019 tho:((((

(Warnings: Naga au, monsters, imprisonment, non con touching) 

(Naga AU! Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou Katsuki, Shouto Todoroki, Eijirou Kirishima x human!reader, poly)

Four weeks ago, if someone had told you nagas existed, you would have laughed. 

But now, four weeks later, still a castaway, still seeing remnants of the boat you were once on floating in the sea, you don’t have the luxury to laugh, not anymore. 

You still don’t remember what it was. The boat looked fine during the storm, but there was a crack, a blast. 

Next thing you know, you were waking up ashore, with someone inhuman hovering over you. 

Izuku. The first naga you met on the island, staring down at you as though you were something to be admired. You remembered screaming, scuttling away, startling him because of your quickness. He couldn’t speak your tongue that well-none of them could. His mouth wasn’t human enough, his vocal cords were strained, tempted to hiss. He was coherent enough for you to learn that he wasn’t the only one on the island. 

Shouto was Izuku’s mate. At least, you think they were mates. Izuku was more lenient on him than the others, softer. The naga was bigger than the green serpentine, a longer tail, just slightly smaller than a minivan. He was quieter, didn’t bother trying to speak human, no matter how many times you coaxed him to. He spoke in clicks and hisses, turning to Izuku when you didn’t understand. He was more aloof, but sometimes you’d wake up to him and Izuku curled up around you, lavishing in your natural body head. 

Eijirou was boisterous, friendly. You liked him a lot. He was the second smallest, barely longer than Izuku. You like his coloring the most. A bright red, easy to spot. He was a bit too curious for your liking, constantly hovering, constantly touching. His greatest fascination was in your legs, moving them, watching them bend. Sometimes he goes too far up for your comfort as you have to snap your legs back. His apologetic look makes you forgive him instantly. 

The leader of them all was Katsuki. His scales were a fiery orange, it matched his personality. They all listened to him, even Shouto, when he hissed and spat in mostly anger. You think he didn’t like you at first, with all the scowling, but now it’s more like he doesn’t like it when you don’t exist around him. He isn't as touchy as Eijirou, but he lacks personal space like the others. He’s rougher, too. Constantly wrapping a clawed hand on your arm, dragging you wherever he pleased.

 You’re surprised it’s Izuku who challenges him the most, mostly about you. They squabble and bicker constantly, hissing in a tongue you don’t understand. Shouto mainly watches in amusement, Eijirou often looks worried when they start fighting with you near the vicinity. Then, one of the males will drag the other deeper into the island. They come back hours later with cuts and bruises around their body, both equally huffy. You don’t think there’s ever a clear victor. 

But they loved eachother. You could tell in the secret smiles Katsuki gives solely to Izuku when he thinks no one is watching. Shouto and Eijirou sunbathing together on a warm rock, hands shyly touching. The concern Shouto gives to Katsuki every time the naga comes back from a hunt, covered in bruises and scars. Eijirou half-listened to Izuku’s hisses, languidly cuddling beside him. You wonder if you were the only outsider in the world who knew of their love. You are the only one they’ve ever given an insight to. 

But that’s all you were, an outsider, and soon enough, you’d have to return to your own world. 

Today’s the same, as it always was. It’s Eijirou who’s curled up to you, this time, snoring softly in his coils. His claws lie just beside you, close to touching. Even in his sleep, he’s careful, quick to treat you gently, carefully. 

But gentle doesn’t mean he isn’t practically sprawled on top of you, practically shielding you from whatever intruder that could come. You don’t know why he still does it, nothing could ever come into this cave they call home. Why would anything? Four territorial nagas is scarier than anything. 

You think they consider you harmless, at least for now. Why else would they be so giving to you, always making sure you’re the first to eat, careful of their claws, their tails. Your best theory was that they saw you as a lesser being, something that needed to be cared for. Maybe they think you’re a runt of their kind? A glorified pet? You’re just grateful they haven’t considered you as food, yet. 

You wiggle a bit, Eijirou doesn’t budge, still deep into his slumber. You think for the first few days you tried to reclaim your dignity, refusing to curl up with them when the sun dipped into the water. You were still wary of them, worried they might gnaw on you in your sleep. You decided to huddle in a place far from the cave, under the night sky. 

Somehow, you always woke up in one of their arms. So now, you just stop bothering. 

You look around. There’s no one else to help you. Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto must’ve woken up early. You don’t know what they do, maybe hunting, but you can’t be sure. As of right now, you don’t care, not when Eijirou is practically making you sink into stone. 

“Wake up,” You whisper insistently into Eijirou’s inhuman ear, “Eijirou wake up!” 

You pat his cheeks repeatedly, that seems to be the trick, because he’s hissing, cracking a slitted eye in mild annoyance before realizing it’s you. 

“Oh,” He hums, sleepily, “Hello.” 

“Hi,” You say back, “Could you get off me, please?” 

Eijirou’s frowning, but in the end, he relents, hoisting himself up, away from you. You stretch as well, folding your knees. Eijirou watches in interest. 

“Where are the others?” You ask him. 

Eijirou looks around, finally seeming to realize you’re the only one there. 

“Gone,” He finally says, “Water.” 

You hum, transfixed on him. The sudden attention seems to fluster him. He shuffles his tail a bit. 

“I didn’t know you guys could go into water.” 

“Me no could long time,” Eijirou struggles with his words, and you feel bad that they have to strain their vocal cords to talk to you, “Izuku no could long time. Katsuki yes. Shouto yes.” 

You hum. Izuku and Eijirou must be close to land snakes then, while Katsuki and Shouto were more affiliated with water. It made sense. Both of them were longer, slender, loosely resembling eels, while Izuku and Eijirou were stockier, sturdy. You wish you could ask if that meant they both had gills, but you don’t think Eijirou would be able to answer. 

Instead, you sit up, turning to walk outside of the cave. Eijirou follows, like an overgrown puppy. 

The sun is already high in the sky, when you exit the cavern. If you listened closely, you could probably hear the ocean crashing into the rocks. 

“What are you planning on doing?” You ask the naga. 

He points at you, “Watch.” 

Right, he needs to keep an eye on you, at least until the others get back. Him waking up later than the others was a silent sign that he had to hold back for babysitting duty. You give him an apologetic smile, before trekking off into the far side of the camp. 

It used to be an abandoned clearing. Something natural, but ever since you arrived, that’s slowly been changing. A campfire site was added. Grass and other soft material was gathered when it was discovered you had a hard time sleeping on a cold stone floor. Another list of things they did that they really didn’t have to do. 

You wished you could do something for them. Hopefully getting out of their hair faster would be a gift in itself. 

It wasn’t a boat. Too shabby, clearly made by the inexperienced. You really had Katsuki to thank for the material, ripping apart trees with his powerful claws. He’d preened when you’d complimented him, thanking him. 

You spent more than a week on it, using pliable bark to hold it together. A raft, your mind finally supplied. It was a raft, with a thin sail attached. You had no idea how you were even going to control it, but it was better than staying here. 

Four weeks. You’d spent almost a month hoping for rescue. Maybe you’d have better luck out in the ocean, than here on an uncharted island. 

Eijirou gives an excited click, hovering over the contraption. He points at it with a claw, looking at you with wonder. You realize you haven’t been babysat by him in a while. You were usually with Izuku, sometimes Shouto. This was his first time seeing it. 

“Raft,” You supply. 

“Raft,” He repeats, fascinated, “Why?” 

You pause, trying to explain it in the simplest of words. 

“I can’t swim well in ocean-water,” You correct yourself, “This will help.” 

Eijirou nods, eager. Excited. 

“Swim? Swim?” He asks, “Swim Katsuki? Shouto?” 

“I won’t be swimming with them, no.” You gently say, “This will just help me leave the island. Maybe find a rescue boat.” 

Eijirou couldn’t understand you that well. He didn’t learn as quickly as Katsuki, or Izuku, but you admired his determination to try to learn, to try to understand you. It’s why when you speak to him, you tend to be a little less guarded. You gave a lot more information, stuff you never mentioned to Izuku and Katsuki or Shouto, left yourself a little open. 

Truthfully, you underestimated him a bit. 

You don’t get a response, instead you feel a sudden weight on your body, pushing to the ground, on your back. Your stare at Eijirou, his eyes are panicked. Wide. 

Scared. 

“Leave?” He trills, “Leave? Leave? Why?” 

He’s gentle, he’s always gentle. But not when he’s desperate. Today, his claws sink into your skin because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care enough, not right now. 

You shudder out a breath. 

“Eijirou,” You weakly say, “You’re hurting me.” 

He shakes his head. 

“Leave? Stay!” He pleads, just as pathetically. 

You hate how you feel relief when you hear the foliage shift, because you don’t want to be afraid of Eijirou, you really don’t, but you look up anyway, watching as the three naga still when they see the scene before them. 

Shouto is the first to move, clicking at Eijirou angrily. He’s close to putting a hand on his mate, shoving him off the poor defenseless human, when Eijirou is clicking back. 

Shouto stills. Your heart sinks. 

Izuku moves frantically, slithering to your body. His eyes slip from you to the raft he helped you build. You can tell that it’s slowly starting to click in his mind. His hair’s wet, droplets falling down his face, but you know his eyelashes aren’t wet from the dive in the ocean. 

“Leave?” Izuku is saying, “Why? You stay? Here good. Ocean bad.” 

You’re shaking your head. Eijirou’s grip loosens, he pulls away in silence. You prop yourself up, keeping your gaze on the first naga you’d ever met. 

“Izuku,” When you usually say his name, he preens in adoration. Today, he winces, “I can’t stay here. I have to go back to my own kind. To other humans.” 

Neither of you are prepared for the loud crack. You flinch, turning towards Katsuki. His fist is shaking, injured, bruised. 

And your little raft, something that could’ve barely withstood a small rainstorm, is splintered to pieces. 

“You can’t leave,” He’s hissing, “Stay. On Island.” 

No one’s holding you, dragging your frail body down to earth, but you suddenly feel heavy. You look in horror at the thing that was once your way of escape. Your last hope. 

“Why?” You ask, but it’s too quiet, but you want to be angry and upset, “Why did-did you…”

Cold hands slip into yours. Izuku is staring at you, tilting his head in understanding, but he doesn’t understand. He can’t. 

“Stay here,” His voice is soft but you know it’s not a suggestion, “With us.” 

“I can’t,” You feel like you’re repeating yourself, “I need to get home. I have to get home.” 

“This home,” Izuku says, “Your home.” 

You feel sick. You want to throw up because this feels so wrong. Too wrong. 

Your hands fall away from him. Izuku lets it, lets you crawl back, away from them all. Because he knows. 

He knows you can’t go anywhere. 

You’re shaking your head, “No no you can’t. You can’t just keep me here. Why? Why?” 

“You are ours, you can’t go.” Katsuki’s voice cuts in, Izuku glowers at him with a soft hiss, probably telling him to be gentle with you, like he always does, but no amount of padding stops you from reeling at his next words. 

“Mates can’t go.” 

You’re stammering, maybe laughing. 

“I’m-I’m not your mate,” You spit the word out like it’s poison, “Humans…it doesn’t work like that. Not with my kind. You-you can’t want me. Keep me.” 

Eijirou hovers next to Izuku, looking at you, “Yes,” He says softly, “Want. You.”  

“Chose you,” Izuku’s finishing for him, “For us.” 

You’re crying now, something hot and festering building up in your chest. They couldn’t. God they wouldn’t, right? Suddenly the constant touching, cooing, the coddling they do for you. It all clicks. And it all becomes too much. 

“Please,” You’re replying, weak, “I can’t live the rest of my life here, until I die.” 

“Yes,” Someone’s saying. You don’t recognize the voice. 

Shouto gives you a wide grin, filled with sharp teeth. For the first time, he speaks. 

You’re too filled with dread to acknowledge it. 

“Stay. Until you die.” 

#naga au #naga!Midoriya Izuku #naga!bakugou katsuki #naga!Todoroki shouto #naga!Eijirou Kirishima #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #multi yandere x reader #ive been reading lots of monster fics lately #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #yandere izuku #yandere eijiro #yandere shouto #yandere katsuki #kirishima eijiro x reader #monster au #poly

[thecuriousquest]

You Know You Love it Part Four

Yandere!Bully KiriBaku x Reader

Warnings: Bullying, sex, spanking, slapping, degradation, masochism, sadism

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Five

Checkout my Master List here.

————————————————————————

As the class files out of the room for the day, you lean over your desk to grab your bag. Your glasses fall off of your face, and you mutter a curse.

Your face blushes bright red as you jerk up in response to someone raising your skirt to your hips. Turning around, Eijiro has that signature shit eating grin.

“Nice panties. Blue. It’s cute on you.”

You struggle to see more of his facial expression without your glasses, but you know he’s smirking at you. It’s blurry, but you can just make it out.

He grabs you by the hips when you try to pick up your glasses from around the desk by your book bag. His muscular form easily lifts you up onto the wooden surface.

“Let me get my glasses,” you demand in a small voice.

“Oh, someone forgot their manners.”

Katsuki is the one who picks up your glasses and holds them just out of your reach. “What? You want these? Are these the glasses you want?”

Anger bubbles just beneath the surface, but something begins to mix with it. “Yes, I want those glasses.”

“Well, what are you gonna do to get ‘em back?” Kirishima asks this time.

You feel the redhead nudge his way in between your legs. You grow hot when his thigh bumps that sweet spot at the apex of your thighs. You bite back a moan, not wanting him to know that you want more.

You couldn’t help but want them. You hate them, but your mouth waters when you see them shirtless. Your wanton sex dripping like a juicy peach, ready to take both of their cocks and deliver satisfying speed.

The bullying is something you can’t live without. It’s part of your whole dynamic. Something within the bullying lies passive aggressive dominance. It’s the way the duo marks you as theirs. Kirishima and Bakugou honestly treat you like a rag doll. They taunt you, degrade you, treat you like absolute trash, but it just makes the inside of your thighs slick with lust.

You hope they haven’t caught on. You hope they never do.

Trying to fake a protest, you shove at Kirishima’s chest. You don’t really want him and Bakugou to go away, you just want their reaction to you putting up a fight.

“Leave me the hell alone, and give me back my glasses!”

Katsuki reaches out and slaps you. It’s not enough to send you falling off the desk, but he does cause your head to turn. A hand instantly flies to your cheek to soothe the redness, and you feel heat rising in your womb. You’re needy. You want more, and you’re gonna fucking get what you want.

“It really does look like our little mouse forgot her manners and all of her lessons,” the blonde teen says to Kirishima as he glares at you.

“We oughta do the right thing and re-educate her. What do you say, Bakubro?”

They talk about you like you’re not even there, and by God do you love it.

Kirishima pushes your thighs farther apart and cups your cloth covered cunt. You can’t help but gasp as you welcome the invasion, not doing anything to stop him. It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and you hope it’s not the last.

A devilish smirk appears on his face. Your panties are absolutely soaked with arousal, and he can feel it. “I think someone’s enjoying this.”

“Holy shit, really?” Bakugou questions.

“Yeah, man, she’s fucking dripping. Feel.” He moves his hand and lets his best friend have a turn feeling you up.

He feels your southern zone and mutters, “No way…” Raising his red eyes to look into yours, Bakugou’s smile is sardonic, sinister even. “You little whore. What? You really get off to the shit we do to you?”

You bite your lip and shake your head, lying to yourself and them. Trying to anyway.

The ashen blonde moves your underwear to the side and sticks two fingers in your soaked pussy. He rubs his digits along your wet walls three times before pulling out and shoving his slick fingers in your face. “What the fuck is this then?”

When you keep your eyes closed and shake your head again, he slaps your bare thigh. The sound is just as bad as the pain, but you relish in it. You can’t help but open your eyes and let out a gasp.

“I asked you a question, bitch!”

You look at his fingers covered in your juices and moan. “I don’t fucking know. Let go of me!”

You want to fight. You want to be fierce, but you also want them to force your submission. You want the feeling of someone not giving up on you. That’s another reason why you’re so attracted to them. Despite all of your rebellion, they never walk away.

“Like hell we will,” they both say at the same time.

You still don’t have your glasses, and you think the world is spinning as you’re tossed over one of their broad shoulders. You can’t tell who it is until they start walking out of the classroom with an arm wrapped around your thighs to keep you steady. You push yourself up and see red hair walking right behind you.

You let out a whine, and Bakugou smacks your ass. “Be quiet, slut.”

You whimper and let your cheek rest against his lower back.

Kirishima stands right next to his best friend. “Your dorm or mine?”

“Eh. Yours.”

———

You arrive to the dorm room faster than you thought it would take. Bakugou dumps you onto the bed unceremoniously. Your head bounces against the mattress before your body settles, and you try to push yourself up only to have Kirishima pull you onto his lap. He pins you with a strong headlock. You can just barely manage short breaths. It feels so good.

Bakugou works on removing your skirt and blue panties. He even unbuttons your shirt, sliding the long sleeves down your arms. He wraps his arms around you, hands going underneath your back to unclasp your bra, discarding it on the floor with your pile of clothes.

You wriggle, trying to fight your way out of Kirishima’s strong grip, but it’s a fruitless task. There’s no way to get out of those strong arms. They laugh at you for even trying.

“That’s your problem,” Kirishima starts. “You think you can do all sorts of things. You’re school smart, but you’re one stupid fucking bitch if you think you can beat me in a strength match. You can’t stop thinking. What you need to do is just let us think for you.”

Bakugou begins rubbing that little clit of yours. You release a sharp breath as his fingers work you into a climax. Hunger. Pure unadulterated hunger lingers within your needy cunt. You’re not even ashamed as you grow wetter by the second.

Kirishima holds you tightly against him as he plays with your bare tits, whispering salacious things into your ear as if they were sweet nothings. “You’re being such a good little whore for us. Listen to you, moaning. Where is your place? Tell us where your place is.” He nibbles on your ear, waiting for your answer.

You, however, haven’t been tamed yet. You still want to be a defiant little brat. You bite your lip and shake your head as much as you can in his stiff headlock.

Bakugou chuckles and removes his hand from your stimulated bead. It takes you a second or two to notice what’s missing. Opening your eyes, you look at him with desire and impatience. You’re practically drooling with lust.

He pays your low growls no mind and simply pats your thigh where he smacked it earlier. “Kirishima gave you an order. What do little sluts like you do when someone gives you an order?”

‘Follow it…’ Just say the fucking words! “Fuck you!”

Bakugou looks at Kirishima. “She’s gonna take a while to learn her lesson.”

The redhead looks down at you and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That’s okay. It’s the weekend, and we don’t have anywhere to be.”

The explosive blonde grabs your ankles and pulls them up with one hand. You wriggle as your ass is vulnerable to his touch. You squeal when his palm cracks down upon your bare backside.

“I can do this all day, Little Mouse. Go ahead and push us as hard as you want. We’re not going anywhere.”

His words don’t come off as threatening as he intended. They come off as comforting. A part of you wants to cry at his promise, but you swallow your tears and moan when his heavy hand crashes down upon your tender skin.

He makes quick work of beating your flesh, striking you until you’re a crying mess and apologizing, all the while you’re loving how red he marks you.

Putting your legs back down, he leans over you with his hands on either side of your hips and looks you in the eyes. “Now, tell us where your place is.”

“Underneath the both of you.”

You feel Kirishima’s erection poking your back, but you don’t mind how hard he is. If anything, it makes you even wetter.

Bakugou lightly slaps your face. “Good girl. You can listen. It looks like there actually is something in between those ears after all. Might not be much, but it’s something.” He smirks at you.

Kirishima pinches your nipples roughly as Bakugou begins to delight in your pussy again. You feel something wet chase your clit. Something slippery swirling around it. You look down to see his mouth pressed against you like he’s eating his last meal.

Nobody has ever done that to you before, and you want him to do it over and over again. You can’t help the squirming. It’s so good that you can’t stay still. Your loud moans fill the room, and you barely register Kirishima’s grunts as your writhing creates friction against his hard cock.

When you come, you come hard. Your orgasm is sticky and tastes wonderful on the ash blonde’s lips. He cleans you up with his tongue and smacks your pussy. There’s nothing he likes more than seeing you get off, but he loves the fact that he made you get off.

Your eyes begin to close. You feel so tired, like you could drift off into a good sleep for a few hours.

“Alright, our turn.”

And suddenly your eyes shoot open. You look up at Kirishima as he releases you.

“I wanna stuff her mouth.”

“I’ll take her cunt. We can take that cute ass later. A slut like her is probably used to it though.” Bakugou tells his friend.

You sit up and shake your head, denying that anyone has been…back there.

They don’t pay any attention to you as Kirishima and Bakugou strip in front of you. The muscle. Oh Christ, the muscle on these beautiful bastards! You could come again just by looking at them. Your thighs quake with lewd suggestion.

Kirishima chuckles as he kneels on the bed on your left. That leaves Bakugou to manhandle you so that you’re on your hands and knees.

Already soaking with anticipation, Bakugou sticks his hard cock between your slick folds. He buries himself inside of you, pumping you with a mind blowing speed. Your jaw goes slack, giving Kirishima the opportunity to sheath his sword with your mouth.

Everything you want to say becomes muffled. “Oh, fuck, I’ll be a good girl. I’ll be such a good girl for you. You won’t even recognize me. Please, don’t stop!” Your words are incomprehensible, though.

Your bullies grip you in different ways, smack you in various spots. Kirishima gropes your breasts, clenches your hair in his fist. Bakugou leaves punishing bruises on your hips as he rocks you backwards and forwards. He has full access to slapping your ass, and he takes advantage of it.

Tears of pleasure fall down your cheeks as they fuck you stupid. That’s all you are. Their stupid little slut. Your place is right here: under them, between them, getting railed by them. It doesn’t matter. As long as you have their cocks in you, you’ll be on your best behavior.

It seems as though Kirishima is trying to specifically torment you further as he comes halfway in your mouth before pulling out and squirting jizz all over your face. The thick liquid fills up your mouth, but he orders you not to swallow until Bakugou comes.

He holds you by your hair firmly, making sure that you look at him to know how serious he is. You nod with understanding.

Bakugou releases his seed into you. He rests on your back, needing a moment to collect himself as he huffs with relief. Giving your ass a good smack, he stands up.

“Okay, you can swallow now,” the redhead tells you.

Obeying immediately, the thick fluid goes down your throat smoothly. You kneel on the bed, feeling Bakugou’s come dripping out of your soft cunt.

“We’ll have to get the whore a pill.”

“That’s okay. There’s a pharmacy not too far from here. We can go there once we get her all cleaned up,” Kirishima suggests.

“Yeah, but first…” Bakugou pulls out his phone and captures a picture of you kneeling naked on the bed with come coating your face while feeling your drenched pussy.

———

On Monday in class, you take your seat next to Izuku. You say a quick “hello” to him.

Your bullies saunter in, looking for you. You shrink down a bit, but it’s useless. They see you and walk over to your desk.

Standing in front of you, Kirishima and Bakugou look at you expectantly.

You know what you have to say, but here? Really?

You look up at them with pleading eyes, but they don’t budge. They have that picture of you, and they’re willing to share it with everyone at UA if you don’t follow their new rule.

You sigh and look at Kirishima mumbling, “Good morning, Daddy.” You look at Bakugou. “Good morning, Master.”

Bakugou grabs you by your chin. His gruff voice grumbles in a warning, “What was that?”

Your voice only goes up a few notches as you try again. “Good morning, Daddy. Good morning, Master.”

Satisfied, they return the greeting with a “good morning, Little Mouse” before going to their seats.

Izuku gives you an odd look, and you slump your shoulders. “Don’t even ask, Midoriya.”

#my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere #bullying #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere kirishima #eijiro kirishima #eijirou smut #katsuki smut #yandere bully #bully bakugou #trigger warnings

[yanderenightmare]

this doesn’t need to be a full story I’d just love to see some of scummy kirishima trying to refrain himself from forcing himself on his darling but she makes it .. so hard

BNHA ! THIRST

Kirishima Eijirou x darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, noncon/dubcon, misogyny, prohero au, inappropriate thoughts in the office… 

I took liberties - made darling a supervisor-type from the Hero Commission fsr

It's as though every inch of you begs him to pounce. From the free-fall of crispy-done curls that cascade down around your shoulder to the perfectly placed red-lined lips you smack once talking down to him about proper hero protocol and the subsequent punishments that follow insubordination and how you'll have his license revoked if he doesn't start playing by the Hero Public Safety Commissions rules.

You make him want to gather your expensive haircut in a tight-knit fist – smudge all that red over your pretty face when taking his cock so far down your bratty throat you choke on all the prissy words kept on your tongue for him.

Strutting in that tight black pencil skirt that cinches your small waist – making it look so perfectly receptacle for his large hands – above those firm hips and those doughy thighs he wants nothing more but to squeeze into and make jiggle as he buries himself deep between them. You make his balls itch every time you stomp away from him – with the cruelly tall peekaboo slit splitting your skirt open – teasing him with every loud step you take in those slick black stilettos - showing ankles and legs and knees and thighs, up and up but not far up enough to quench the feral hunger it edges deep down in his gut.

He'd shuffle on his knees – bite his knuckles in restraint – all to cop a feel of that ass and how you sway it with the same sass of an alley-cat. He can imagine it receiving his greedy hands so well – letting him carve in so far he might see his fingers completely swallowed in the fat. Leave his handprint in stinging welts that make you weep for kindness, bent over his lap with your wrists in his fist – only to be answered by his sharp teeth sinking deep into the supple flesh – making you scream.

You don't make it easy for him… being so tiny and snatchable. It would be the easiest thing – to take and tame you – to pull your much smaller body right off your feet and push you tight against the nearest wall – all your important documents on the floor beneath his dirty boots as you take his cock between your ribs and choke on the moan it gives you.

He can barely listen when you berate him – telling him his pay will be redacted if he doesn’t try harder at keeping the wreckage of private and government buildings to a minimum – unable to block out all the impure thoughts that go bubbling from his balls, making his throat tight as you stand there so primly in your glossy silk shirt with buttons so flimsy he bet they'd pop off on the slightest little tug. He imagines it as you continue your rant – your finger pointed at him strictly, and all he’s able to think about is how your breasts would spill out and he’d get to see whatever chic lace brazier you have on underneath.

Gnashing his teeth together, gritting them tight at how painful his boner is, kept inside the strict confines of his boxers while he imagines chewing on the pretty pearls you keep around your throat – thinking about tugging the necklace tight in a strangle, making you squeak and groan as he pounds you harder and harder from behind.

He bets only one of his big hands in your hair would have you completely humbled. Bet you'd cower in cries and do exactly whatever he'd tell you in fear of having your pretty body hurt.

He bet he'd get away with it, too – that's the worst part – that the crime he wants to commit the most is one without consequence. He'll think about it until his abdomen feels like it's about to burst – until his head's so hot and pounding it hurts, and he might very well blackout and give into all of it without further thought.

It would be as easy as pulling on a ski mask. He knows exactly how he’d do it – has your entire routine mapped out and knows exactly what empty building is still under construction in exactly what shortcut you go through to reach your apartment. Knows exactly which slab of still dusty concrete he could bend you over and push your little tear-stained face down against – watching the chub of your cheek squish against the cold stone as you moan on hot cries and plead out fruitless whimpers for his mercy. 

He imagines taking his sweet time with you – getting you real nice and ready for him, playing slippery patterns between your folds where he has your feet kicked apart in a spread. He'd rest his pained and pulsating meat between the valley of your asscheeks as you shake and whine – rubbing against the soft plush skin with a rumble in his chest until you're perfectly puffy and wet for him – tight cunt suckling lewdly on three of his fat gravely fingers stuffed inside it.

He knows you don't get around much – knows you're too busy and otherwise too stingy to let any random person fuck you, so he can only imagine how sweet and sensitive you'd be for him – so needy for the attention, you'd probably start cheering him on once feeling how good he stretches your cock-starved pussy out. 

He imagines your moans are real girly, too – that you'd squeal so nicely once split apart on him. And how your thighs would quake, receiving every inch of his length inside you – toes curling in your stilettos once he's completely bottomed out – nudging his fat cockhead right up against your cervix.

You’d clench on his shaft – milk him for cum – desperate for it.

And he’d give it to you – paint your walls thick with it – cream your tight little cunt so full of it you’d moan out the prettiest breathless thank you as it spills in beady pills down your thighs into your expensive power-heels – properly put in your place.

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere boku no hero academia #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #yandere eijiro #yandere eijirou #yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima smut #yandere x reader #yandere x you #boku no hero academia smut #yandere bnha #yandere #kirishima thirst #kirishima eijiro #kirishima x reader #kirishima bnha #kirishima x y/n #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha eijirou #eijirou x reader #bnha eijirou