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allfearstofallto · 4 months

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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

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yanderecrazysie · 6 months

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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

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35c4p15t · 5 months

Text

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."

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e-r0da · 15 days

Text

The gym.

Pro-hero Kirishima x Reader

AN: Posting this again. Got too embarrassed the first time around but fuck it we ball.

CW: NSFW, MDNI. Kiri is a yandere. Reader is afab and referred to with gn. Dub-con, praise, use of daddy/baby pet names, heavy-petting and fingering, oral, dacryphilia, and a smidge of impact-play and ass-play but it’s teeny tiny. Reader is developing Stockholm syndrome but they’re in denial.

Wc: 2.2k

“You want to use the gym? Why?”

“Well...I want to be strong—like you!”

Would he buy that?

You held your breath as Kirishima stopped shoveling food into his mouth, opting to chew slowly as he contemplated your words.

You had been working towards this—towards his trust—for months. Would you fail now?

Subconsciously your feet shift, pointing towards the kitchen door. Towards the escape. Not that it would do you any good if you really needed it.

He swallowed.

“You feeling insecure baby? Don’t get me wrong—“ you saw a bit of a blush bloom on his cheeks “—I love that you think I’m strong…but you don’t have to be.”

Huh.

You had told yourself you would stop immediately if he gave you a hard no…but this was harder to read. You don’t need to be strong like him…? Or you shouldn’t be?

You test the waters.

“I-it’s not that exactly. You know I used to go to the gym…before. I miss it. I miss being able to challenge myself.”

You had to choose your words wisely. This was about what you needed for yourself—not about anything he was failing to provide. Saying anything that even insinuated as much would hurt him, and that wouldn’t work.

In the beginning, when you still thought that you could forge a way out on your own, hurting him didn’t bother you. But now that you’ve realized that the only way out was through Kirishima, well. You were forced to come to terms with the fact that hurting him also made him more overbearing, less generous with your liberties.

So you squirmed in your seat, trying to read his silence before deciding to push harder.

You laced your plea with a bit of vulnerability, hoping that would make it ring true.

“I-uh.”

“Yeah?”

“And I guess some insecurity plays into it, too.”

He leans in. You lower your gaze.

The last part comes out as a whisper. “I mean...there’s nothing left to squeeze...down there…”

Jackpot.

Kirishima let out a hoarse chuckle at your confession. You mimicked him, but your laughter came out of relief. You did it.

“Baby! Baby. C’mere.”

He pulled his chair back, spreading thick thighs to make you a seat on his lap while you made your way over. As you straddle his legs, he starts preparing you a spoonful of the kimchi rice you two had made earlier. It’s covered in runny egg yolk as you like, the gooey softness hiding the spice beneath.

He tells you to open wide before he stuffs you with it.

“First of all, I think you have the cutest tush I’ve ever seen, baby. So don’t say that.”

It’s embarrassing the way he watches intently as you chew and try to nod, the way he wipes off a bit of yolk from the side of your mouth, the way he fusses over you.

But to an extent it also made your heart ache, remembering that it was the way he cared—and continues to do so—that made you initially fall for him.

“—plus, I meant what I said, ‘ya know? I’ll take care of you.” He draws you further into him, guiding your head into the crook of his neck, before sliding the hand between your shoulder blades and then down over the curve of your ass. Your heart stutters in your throat when he places a small peck over your earlobe and hums softly, just like he used to do when things were normal.

“So if that means exercise, hmm… We can go to the gym room starting tomorrow! Oh, and of course I can be your personal trainer and give you pointers…” You release a small whimper at the realization of your success. And maybe just a bit at the hand that was now wandering over your backside. Your mind flickered between that taste of freedom and his actions. It felt so good that you didn’t want to think about the way you embraced them both. He continued on. “…of course I’ll keep track of all your…growth so you don’t need to worry about a thing…and, well, there’s a lot of ways we can get cardio covered without going outside…”

He was working you. So well that you couldn’t help but arch your back, pushing further into his chest as he slowly slid his fingers up and down your clothed pussy before giving it the softest of slaps, jolting your attention back to the present. Back to the man that owns you. The man you were trying to bargain with.

You look up at him, warm cheeks evidence of his effect. His affection. He looks down at you and grins. It’s filled with sharp teeth, interlaced with a bit of hunger.

“I love you no matter what shape you’re in, though. So if you ever wanna stop you just tell me, okay?”

Sometimes you forget this is the same man that keeps you hostage.

“T-thank you, Eijirou. It—this—means a lot to me.” You almost surprise yourself with how genuine your response is. You reason that it’s probably because you had only been allowed into just three rooms—the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen—until just now.

That has to be it right? Gratitude for the man that provides for you so well?

According to that logic it’s only fair, you think, to give him something in return for his generosity. So you nuzzle back into him, placing a chaste kiss in the crook of his neck before ghosting your lips over his ears, testing if he agrees. And the way he jolts beneath you feels like everything you need.

So you take it another step further and whisper for him, like a sin—like a confession.

“You’re so good to me, daddy.”

Just for tonight, you think.

Just for tonight he can be the man you loved again.

You’re rewarded by the feeling of him stiff, hot, and ready beneath you—then of his tongue, demanding and wet as he crashes into you from above with a kiss. He almost growls into your mouth.

“Good fucking girl.There she is.”

You feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, choosing to chase down the shame of your actions by committing fully. You don’t want to stop, not when it feels this euphoric.

Not when you’ve been this lonely.

How long has it been?

How long has it been since he's touched you like this, since he’s lifted your dress and stared at your bare form with such adoration, such heat?

Maybe there was a reason why it's been so long, but now is not the time to remember painful things.

His hands drift back down to your lower half, neglecting his own pleasure in favor of remembering the feeling of yours. When his fingers reach to feel your pussy once more, he groans when he can feel your wetness through your panties.

“Baby, oh baby fuck.”

The light at the end of the tunnel is further than ever before as you plead with him.

“Eijirou, oh—please, you need t—mh! Please touch me.”

Your consent is all he needs to be put into action, thick arms wrapping underneath you as he lifts you up and walks you both to the bedroom, dinner long forgotten. You wrap your hands in his hair, still damp from his shower, as you whine into his mouth.

No man has ever made you feel this needy.

He softly detaches from you to lay you down on your shared bed, watching your sprawled, breathless form with wild eyes. Somewhere in your haze he ties his hair back into a small bun.

“So fucking beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

He leans over your form, forearms caging you in as he kisses you again. The two of you shake at the feeling of his bulge making contact with your heat, and almost desperately he begins to grind down into you, as if trying to burn through the layers that separate you.

He watches the place where you both connect before releasing a shaky groan into your mouth.

Maybe you know that he’s missed this. But now you realize that you’ve missed it, too.

He backs up a bit to allow impatient hands to trace your form—down the sides of your arms to your hips and waist—then underneath your ass in favor of pushing your thighs to your chest. He stares at the apex of your legs for a moment, deadly silent, before slowly moving his gaze back to yours. It’s red. Everything is red.

Breathlessly, he asks you. “Want my fingers, baby?”

Somewhere deep inside you recognize this moment as a point of no return. And what started as a fight for a sliver of freedom was quickly falling out of your control, but you were failing to realize it.

“Y-yes. Please, Eijirou. Please—mh!”

There would be a special spot in hell for the two of you when this was all said and done.

Your eyes were wide open as his lips engulfed yours, allowing you to watch the way your words sent a violent ripple of his quirk coursing through his body.

The view had you in awe, the feeling only magnified as you felt thick, calloused fingers grasp your panties, moving them to the side.

His desperate breaths on your neck contrasted the gentle ministrations of his hands exploring your pussy, simply feeling its wetness with something akin to wonder.

Why did you make him wait so long, is what fingers seem to ask with the way they hold you.

You try to lean in for another kiss, but he was already gone, dragging your lower half to the edge of the bed where he could watch you twitch and whine from on his knees.

And then he was on you.

You heard a quiet fuck leave Kirishima’s lips but the sound didn’t quite register over the feeling of him dragging his nose through your sex, inhaling your scent deeply as if to ingrain it into his memory.

Without so much as a warning he swipes a finger over your pussy, rubbing the lips from side to side, making you listen to the soft shlick! shlick! shlick! of your arousal—as if he was trying to provide both of you evidence that you still wanted him.

And then he was inside, finger inching into you, eyes glued to your face as you squeezed yours closed in favor of panting softly at the feeling.

“How is my baby doing, huh? She uh—” His gaze quickly shifts downwards “—she miss me?”

“S-so much, daddy” you practically whine. “so much!”

It’s too much, even.

He coos. “I can’t believe I’ve been neglecting my baby like this—” he starts to pump in and out of you, slowly, caressingly. He wants to make you cry. “—want me to make it all better?”

The slight friction had you clamping down around him. You were moaning like he was fucking you, and he just had a finger in. You knew that maybe this would feed his ego, but right now you couldn’t find it in you to be sensible, to care.

“Yes!” His finger starts to withdraw.

“Yes who, baby?”

“Daddy—” you breathe. How could you forget? “—yes, daddy—please daddy.”

A second finger forces its way into your heat, a silent approval of your choice of words that you have no choice but to accept glutinously, a deep hoarse whine slipping from your mouth as you do so.

“Daddy will always give his baby what she wants. Isn’t that right?”

You pant and moan rhythmically with the way he presses against your walls, mental capacity beyond responding. All that you know right now is In. Out. In. Out. And the way he breathily mimics—or matches—your whines as they grow more frantic.

He tells you to hug your knees to your chest and he loves the way you wordlessly comply, knowing how to draw out your more desperate moans when you feel a wet finger slide around the ring of muscle outlining your asshole. Kirishima planned on giving you everything right now. Who knew when you would be this pliable again?

The pleasure you feel when his spit lands on your pussy just a second later—before sliding down and down—makes you want to sob. He’s lubricating you just enough for him to press the tip of his thumb inside your second hole, all the while being your good, consistent daddy that doesn’t stop fucking your pussy with his other hand.

He gets up from his knees slowly, hands still working you, as he moves in favor of having his face over yours, watching your facial expressions transform just for him.

Subconscious tears are slipping from the corners of your eyes, giving him an excuse to lick at your face like a loyal watchdog. Your legs begin to shake. He’s everywhere. Inescapable.

You’re falling, giving in to it, gleefully trying to have it all without thinking about the consequences—when he removes his hands from your body without so much as a warning.

Of course it had to be a choice.

There were a lot of people who thought Eijirou was stupid. Just brawns.

They would never know, at least not as well as you did, how much it hurt to underestimate him.

“…Does my baby want to be fucked?”

You knew he had been waiting—waiting for you to come to him of your own volition.

If you said yes he would take it as you giving in. Of you loving him, in some way or another, like you had before.

After all, breaking you down was always his goal.

#kirishima eijirou #bnha #yandere kirishima #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima smut #yan!kirishima

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loversdelusions · 7 months

Note

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.

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ghostlyforxst · 1 year

Text

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!"

500 notes · View notes

thefiery-phoenix · 3 months

Text

YANDERE BAKUSQUAD HEADCANONS

You were a really determined person. You always put your best whenever you did something, and didn't worry about the result and that was something the Bakusquad admired about you, however, you were incredibly naive and trusting of everyone around you

You had met the Bakusquad on your first day. As usual, Bakugou was yelling at you about something, and suddenly, you snapped and asked him to shut up. Everyone around you gasped and soon, the Bakusquad looked at you with immense respect. Ofc, Bakugou wasn't too happy about that but eventually he let you join the Bakusquad since he was actually impressed with your quirk and courage to stand up against him which most people can't do without breaking at least 5 bones

You loved hanging out with the Bakusquad and they loved hanging out with you. They didn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable

Whenever someone tries to bully you, they immediately stick up for you with intense threatening looks in their eyes like they're about to murder them. Pretty soon, their overprotectiveness for you had turned into a CRAZY OBSESSION and they realized that they all liked you

However, they didn't like how innocent and trusting you were. What if someone takes advantage of that? What if someone hurts you? What if they do something bad to you? They talked about it when you were absent from school one day

''Man... Y/N is really cool and I think we're all in love with her but....'' said Sero but stopped in the middle. ''But what?" asked Mina. ''She's so trusting of everyone around her and not to mention really innocent'' he said. ''Yeah, well someone has to show that little nerd that not everyone can be trusted'' growled Bakugou. ''That's right.... after all, we ARE becoming pro heroes and what sort of heroes will we BE if we can't save our friend?" asked Kirishima. ''Kiribro's right. We NEED to take action for Y/N's own good and keep her safe'' and everyone agreed

Soon, they even started getting clingier and possessive of you than usual and finally, you started trying to avoid them, but that was a HUGE mistake

''Y/N WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!!??" screeched Bakugou as he tried running towards you but you just waved back at him and shouted, ''Sorry... I need to go'' and ran off in the other direction. When it soon dawned upon them that you were avoiding them, they were hurt at first, but came to the conclusion that you were just shy and scared and confused. But don't worry, they're going to take care of everything for you

You were tied to the headboard of a bed with a few ropes and you had a quirk cancelling cuff around your ankle after you blacked out due to them bonking you over the head. You then saw your old friends, the Bakusquad come in and you said, ''Guys... this isn't funny, let me go'' you snarled. ''Why would we do that when we worked so had to take you away and try to keep you safe?'' asked Denki. "Guys, if this is about the time I declined your offer about going to the arcade, I said I was sorry since I had somewhere else to be'' you said

''It's all right.... From now on, you're going to be ONLY with us since we all love and care for you'' smiled Kirishima as you yelled, ''YOU GUYS ARE PSYCHOPATHS!!" Bakugou just laughed and tried stroking your cheek but you attempted to bite his finger off. ''Ohh...she's feisty'' squealed Mina. "None of this would happened if you were so naive all the time...dumbass"

''We'll undo the ropes for you when you can prove you can be trusted. It's just that we don't want to see our darling in any form of danger now do we, Mi amor~" said Sero

You wished your life would go back to normal and you regretted being friends with these people who claimed all they wanted to do was keep you safe. They DID treat you well, and they never raised their hand at you. Of course, they had to stop Bakugou from literally MURDERING you when you act up while Kirishima and Denki and Sero calm him TF down and Mina tries comforting you. They actually treat you like royalty once you develop Stockholm Syndrome and cuddle sessions with them are a MUST! Maybe it won't be so bad

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bakugou imagines #yandere bakugou headcanons #yandere kirishima eijirou oneshots #yandere sero hanta headcanons #yandere denki kaminari scenarios #yandere mina ashido oneshots #yandere bakusquad #yandere bakusquad x reader #yandere bakusquad oneshots #yandere bakusquad imagines #yandere bakusquad scenarios #yandere bakusquad headcanons

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ghostsy · 1 year

Note

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

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shorkbrian · 2 years

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Idk if you write mythical creatures, but merman baku or kiri finding an injured reader on the beach👀👀 snatching her for a mate👀👀 add a dash of breeding kink👀👀👀 just a thought.

(Glad to see you’re back☺️ I’ve missed your writing!)

Okay but what about river mermaids Kiri and Baku? Baku would have the tail of a brown trout and Kirishima a salmon!!!! They wouldn't have the typical reproductive habits of fish cause they're half human, but mmmm they'd be so pretty

You were out kayaking, having some fun with your friends, laughing and splashing each other with your paddles as you floated down the river, dappled sunlight scattered onto your skin throughout the trees.

It was an unfamiliar route, so none of you knew to expect the rapids, the broiling, thrashing water that dragged you and your friends into the water, bashing your kayaks against the rocks. The cold had you all sputtering in shock, some of you inhaling the river water as you got tossed about.

Too loud to hear over the roar of water pounding against rocks, too hard to see your friends as water filled your eyes, your nose, your ears. Too difficult to stay conscious when the river threw you against a rock, having it’s way with your limp body as it carried you further along it’s path.

Waking up hurts.

The sun is too bright, birds chirping too loud nearby, skin itchy from dried mud on your limbs. Your head is pounding, throbbing to the beat of your heart as you force open your eyes, trying to blink away the blurriness.

As your eyes take in your surroundings, your attention is immediately drawn to two men sitting on the river bank, backs turned towards you. Had they rescued you from the rapids?

The water was still frothing in the river, churning and mixing into itself with strength, pulverizing anything it caught in it’s grasp. You could’ve died, you realize, blearily watching the water rush by.

“Hey…..” You try, but the sound your throat makes is wheezy, water clawing it’s way up your throat. You barely manage to roll to your side, coughing out the liquid in a desperate hack onto the ground.

A few deep breaths until you can roll back into the more comfortable position of lying on your back.

“You alright there sweetheart?”

“Shaddup, you don’t even know her, save the shitty pet names idiot”

You raise your hand, thumbs up, towards the two men at the riverbank. Too tired to use your voice and afraid of a repeat performance of water coming out instead of words.

The men were talking between themselves, voices getting closer, along with the odd noise of a wet blanket dragging against rocks. Did they manage to snag some of your gear?

“You’re lucky that you didn’t get hurt little lady, this river isn’t too kind to those like you.” The voice was right next to you, and as you opened your eyes you were met with two vastly different expressions.

The man on your right had concern in his eyes, brows furrowed as he looked you over, gaze concentrated on your head where it must’ve hit against a rock. His complexion was ruddy, hair a shocking red, slowly drying against his shoulders. He was pretty.

The man on your left was scowling, lip curled, arms crossed. He was shirtless, you noticed - they both were. This man was an attractive blonde, hair puffy around his head like a golden halo. You didn’t know if you were shivering from the cold, or the intensity of his irritated gaze.

“Um….. do you….. did you see any of my friends?”

“Those dipshits that were with you when you hit the rapids? Yeah, they got swept downriver. “ The blonde snorted, rolling his eyes.

“W… What?” Your speech was slurred as you struggled to get your arms under you, to sit up.

“Hey hey, they’ll be alright.” The redhead soothed, broad palms on your shoulders gently pushing you back down to the earth. “Bakugou wasn’t trying to spook you. Neither of us are. You’re doing really good so far.”

You let yourself be eased back down, closing your eyes again, noticing how sticky and dry your mouth was, smacking your lips together. “Do you have…. Uh…. Water?”

“Plenty right there-Oof!” The sound of someone getting the wind thwacked from their chest, and then silence. “I mean… Yeah, I’ll grab you somethin’ to drink.” The blonde, Bakugou moved away, accompanied by that strange dragging sound again.

The redhead chuckled. “He seems grumpy, but really Bakugou is a big softie.”

“Whats… what’s your name?” You asked finally feeling oriented enough to open your eyes, blinking up slowly at the man leaning over you. It was strange to see someone brighten so visibly when you asked a question.

“Kirishima! Eijirou Kirishima.” He beamed, and immediately you recoiled.

“Your-your teeth….?” Was all you could squawk, eyes wide.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll hurt you or anything! Wanna feel ‘em?”

Before you could say anything, your hand was being dragged to his mouth, fingers stuffed inside. Kirishima lightly grazing three of your fingers with the tips of his pointed teeth, tongue flicking between the digits.

“Oi! Get her hand outta your mouth, ya’ horny fuckin’ bastard.” Bakugou yelled on his approach, and you took the momentary surprise to snatch your hand back to your chest, dripping saliva.

“Aw, we’re just gettin familiar, ain’t that right?” Kirishima smiled, and despite having your fingers in his maw mere seconds ago, you still flinched back at the sight of his sharp teeth.

“Yeah? What’s her name then?”

When Kiri fell silent, both men turned to you, question in their eyes. You mumbled your name, closing your eyes again. These guys were weird.

“I like it. Here.” Bakugou rumbled, before a flask was being pressed to your mouth, smooth hand slipping behind your head to lift it slightly, help you drink. You drank thirstily, water slipping over your lips and down your chin, onto your chest, spattering over your legs, unnecessarily cold.

Wait.

Where were your pants?

You patted your legs, flesh meeting flesh. Even your bikini bottoms were gone. How had you not noticed before?

“wghwait-“ You gurgled, pushing away Bakugou’s helping hand, eyes popping open as you sat up fully.

And then you froze.

Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t men.

Or maybe they were… but only from the waist up.

From the waist down, they had tails.

Kirishima’s looked like a salmon tail, bright red with green fins, bulky muscle visible underneath thick, flashy scales. Bakugou’s tail was yellow, brown spots dotting along it’s length, all sinewy and lean like a trout.

“What the fuck-“ You couldn’t help but scramble back, panic pitching your voice into a terrified screech

“Awh, you were doing so good at not freaking out.” Kirishima whined, planting an arm into the dirt and using it to propel himself forward, dragging the heft of his tail. That’s what that strange dragging sound had been - wet scales being dragged through the mud.

“No, no no no, this is not fucking-“

Bakugou grabbed a hold of your ankle as you tried to crabwalk backwards, away from the two…. Creatures. He had a smile on his face “I like her mouth, dirty little thing.”

You were too focused on Bakugou dragging both you and him back towards the water, towards the thrashing rapids, to notice Kirishima chuckling behind you.

“I knew I picked the right one out, all those other people looked so boring.”

“Stop! I don’t know what, or-or who you are but you gotta let me go, please, you can’t-“ They were going to eat you, tear your limbs apart piece by piece and feast on your flesh. Bakugou didn’t have razor sharp teeth like Kirishima, but you could see it now, those pearls slicing through your skin, blood gushing and turning the river red.

“We can, we will, and we want to.” Kirishima replied cheerily, dragging himself behind you now, there to grab you again if you somehow managed to wiggle out of Bakugou’s iron grip.

It was impossible, the blonde finally slipping into the river, a small, smooth area close to the bank, water still and calm next to the roar of the rapids. It was chilling, cold like the condensation on the outside of a glass of ice water in the heat of summer.

As soon as the water reached your knee, Bakugou yanking you further in, you couldn’t stop yourself, breath catching in your chest, mind screaming at you to fight.

“No!” With a last effort, you kicked out, foot connecting solidly with Bakugou’s chin, sending him into the water with a curse on his tongue and blood on his lips.

You grabbed at the mud of the bank, clawing your way up, out, away from whatever these-

“Heyyyy, that wasn’t too nice.” Kirishima’s hand snaked around your neck, the palm encircling almost the entirety of it. Barely any effort on his part and you were being pulled back down into the river, mud dirtying your skin as you squirmed and cried. “You might want to apologize-“ He sang, grinning at your gasp as you sank lower in the water.

It was too deep for you to stand, too muddy for you to see where the bottom was. The bank wasn’t close enough for you to grab onto, to leverage yourself back out.

Another hand snaked around your waist and you yelped, turning your head to find Bakugou had resurfaced, a glint in his eye and blood in his smile. “Goddamn, fiesty little bitch. She’s perfect.”

The two couldn’t help their wandering hands, squeezing and pulling at your flesh, especially interested in the parts of your body that they didn’t have - legs, tits, the folds of your cunt.

It was too much, too stressful, water getting in your mouth, being pushed and pulled as if you were caught in the rapids again.

“Kiri, hold her up, I wanna fuckin’ have a a taste.” Bakugou growled, already kissing along the nape of your neck, licking at your skin.

“No, NO, fuck…. Please!” You yelled, throwing your fists against Kirishima as the redhead manhandled you so you were supported by his body. “I don’t want this! PleASE!”

Neither of them listened.

Bakugou, now at your front, kissed down your neck, over each breast, following an imaginary trail of his own choosing down your stomach. They had inadvertently torn off your shirt while dragging you into the water, the only thing keeping you clothed.

It was laughably easy for the blonde to pry your legs apart, using his tail to swim forward until his shoulders were wedged between your knees, keeping you spread and on display.

“Stop this! Don’t-!” Kirishima’s hand slapped over your mouth, clammy skin pressed to your lips. He smelled like fish.

You couldn’t differentiate between the wet of the river and the wetness of Bakugou’s tongue as both licked up your legs, swirling against your skin in random patterns.

Feeling the rhythmic current from the beat of Kirishima’s tail behind your back reminded you of how inhuman these creatures were, how you were about to die by the hand of a myth, something unexplainable.

And then something warm and wet licked over the folds of your cunt, smooth hands grabbing at your ass to raise your hips a little higher. Bakugou was burying his face between your legs, throat rumbling in pleased moans as he tasted you with his tongue, swiping the muscle slowly to explore your lower lips.

You gasped against Kirishima’s palm, hands torn between clawing at the arms that held you hostage and pushing Bakugou’s head away. There were too many sensations, everything was too unexpected, your skin felt cold and warm at the same time. Head still aching from the concussion, dizzy and unstable.

When Bakugou circled his warm tongue around your clit, you couldn’t ’t help the electric zing that shot up your spine, arching your back and involuntarily shoving your hips against his face.

“Oh, she fuckin’ liked that, you see that shit she just did?” Bakugou pulled back just enough to gasp at Kirishima, before diving back in, tongue laving over the sensitive nub.

It was impossible to hear Kirishima’s reply, not with the blood circulating so quickly through your body. You felt his excitement on the skin of your back though, something slimy and hard, fleshy, rubbing against you.

Bakugou wasn’t finished, finding more ways to make you jolt and squirm and writhe in pleasure on his tongue. Sucking on your clit like a lollipop, leaving wet and messy kisses against your fluttering hole, teasing the tip of his tongue inside, wiggling it around and smiling when you clenched up at the intrusion.

His fingers were even worse, nimble and slender, easing inside one at a time, finding a spot inside you that made your stomach burn, hips twitching downward, unintentionally grinding on his face.

“Bakugou, I can’t hold back… lemme fuck her, please, I feel so full-“ Kiri breathed in your ear, his own hips working against your back with desperation.

“Shit, okay, I’ll hold her-“ And you were roughly passed over to the blonde, face first into his naked chest.

You couldn’t even take a breath, spare a glance backwards to see what was going to be entering you before Kirishima was pushing his way inside, cock bullying your walls with it’s width.

“Too big, ah! Ithurts!” You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you held onto Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Shhh, you can take it. You’ll look so good all round and full, gonna cum inside and make sure it takes.” Kiri babbled, his breath ghosting against your ear as he slid his cock back and forth inside you.

Bakugou pushed your hair back, smoothing out the strands so he could look at your face, red eyes narrowed and hazy with lust. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, after Kiri’s done I’m gonna knock you up too. Gonna feel so goddamn good. Just you wait.... just you wait.”

#yandere kiribaku #yandere #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #tw noncon #kirishima eijirou #kirishima #tw rape #yandere bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere kirishima #kirishima x y/n #mermaids #yandere mermaids #river mermaids #fantasy au #bnha smut

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