Yandere Kirishima X Reader - Tumblr Posts

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.

Yandere Kirishima x Reader - Reprimand

Unfortunately, I’m back! Hopefully I’ll get back into a more regular upload schedule from now on. Anyway, here’s part two to this! I know this isn’t great, but I needed to write something to get myself out of this rut. Also this is sort of a Christmas offering to @ikinabi​, if this pleases you then my life is fulfilled. Also I like yandere Kirishima apparently so I might just make this a series or something. Enjoy! xoxo

(Part 1)

TW: Sorta NSFW, yandere, blood, asphyxiation, physical abuse

“So pretty…” 

Your captor mumbled as calloused fingers combed through your locks. It was therapeutic to Eijirou; to tend to your hair every morning before the hero left for work. You were crushed against his firm torso, ensuring you couldn’t slip from his grasp. Your cries and pleas were met with dismissive hums, as he assured you again and again that ‘There’s no need to be scared, princess’. All he wanted was to take care of you, and for you to just let him. Crimson eyes gleamed with childlike anticipation as he twirled you toward the mirror. “What’dya think, babe? Do you like it?” His voice was dripping with excitement, craving your approval like a coveted drug. His efforts, despite being the product of his drowning adoration, did not produce a… refined result. It was established early during your captivity that submission was met with reward; a kiss to remove that damnable gag, an embrace to rid yourself of the burning ropes around your wrist. So you nodded, slowly and hesitantly as tears trickled down your cheeks. A grin, sharp and beaming, cut across his face. That love-drunk gaze, so maniacal in its infatuation, was enough to chill you to the core. It was a routine Eijirou was adamant on maintaining.

It soon proved to be his mistake. 

You stilled your breath in an attempt to make your fingers do the same. The hair-pin in each hand rattled against the lock. Just like they do in the movies, you told yourself over and over, hoping it would somehow cease the shaking of your fingers. Behind that reinforced window, was freedom. Kirishima was attending some mandatory gala event among his fellow heroes, giving you ample time to enact your escape, and the cover of night would prove useful against the subsequent man-hunt that would surely ensue after he found you missing. The promise of breathing air unpolluted by his musk or the intrusive scent of his cologne was utterly tantalizing. That hope, that dream, was made more tangible with each click and slide of the lock mechanism.

“C’mon…” You muttered, the tension against the pins mounting, threatening to snap as they inched further into the lock. Then, slicing through the silence, an almost deafening creak resounded.

The window didn’t budge. You struggled to breathe as it became clear - footsteps, pounding toward you. Trembling hands released their hold on the hair-pins, falling to the floor. It was hard not to scream in frustration, or breakdown in insurmountable terror. The door inched open, an exasperated sigh escaping your captor as he sauntered in. Each step toward you made you wince as they echoed throughout the room. You suppressed a shriek when strong arms coiled around your torso, his nose pressing against the base of your neck. Kirishima inhaled deeply - he had to get his fill after being apart from you for so long. He hummed, pressing his lips gently upon your skin.

“I missed you so much, princess. I wish you could’ve come with me.” He let out a tired chuckle as his chin rested upon your shoulder. “They don’t think you’re real, would you believe it? Saying shit like if you were really my girlfriend you’d be there with me.” A lingered kiss was placed upon your cheek. “But you are real-” Calloused fingertips explored your arms, shoulders, every piece of exposed skin he could relish in. The sound of his breath hitching, it’s warmth invading the nape of your neck, made your heart pound faster - he was getting excited, that much was certain.

“And you’re all mine.” He traced kisses across your neck, quietly reaffirming ‘mine’ between each affection. Gently, he gripped you by the waist and pulled you toward the bed. Slowly sitting himself upon the mattress, he pulled you atop his strong, muscular thighs. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding frantically. A deep hum resonated from his chest, digits lovingly raking through your hair.

Oh god, your hair. The accessories he’d so carefully placed were now strewn about the floor. Your thoughts grew panicked, nigh incomprehensible. He could notice, he would piece it together, if he found out he’d surely -

“Come on, (Y/n), talk to me.” His tongue clicked in his mouth, rough fingers gripping your chin and turning you to face him as carefully as he could. Seeing his face, his serene smile, was enough to make the words ball in your throat. Your lips quivered, his eyes beaming as he anticipated the sound of your angelic voice.

“I c-could’ve come with you, I-” A fervent kiss silenced you, his hand cupping your cheek to support the exchange. He pulled away, brows clearly furrowed. With a disheartening sigh, Kirishima shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that, babe.” His lips lunged to your neck, imprinting kisses against the tender flesh. “I want to, I really do. I want to show everyone how lucky I am,” His mouth shifted to your shoulder, your eyes widening as you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” With animalistic ferocity, he sunk his teeth into your flesh. You whimpered in pain, tears pricking your eyes as you felt blood seep from the wound. Kirishima was eager to lap up the warm substance, working and sucking against the imprint. A powerful arm wrapped around you, keeping you from flinching away as he properly marked you. You opted to squeeze your eyes shut; to pretend you were anywhere but here. A smirk pressed against your skin, a satisfied grunt erupting from the hero at your apparent complacency. “Such a good girl for me.”

His large hand rested against the back of your head, digits entangling with strands of your hair. You felt him pause, and you could swear your heart did the same. Had he noticed? You had to distract him, he couldn’t be allowed find out.

Against your better judgement, you shifted upon his lap until your body faced his. Hesitantly, your hands met his broad chest, inching toward the collar of his dress shirt. His mouth was slightly agape, his pupils dilated with a cocktail of surprise and excitement. Kirishima couldn’t believe what was happening, you were initiating it. Shaky fingers hooked against his tie, slowly working to undo the tight knot. You didn’t dare meet his gaze, terrified of glimpsing at the lust that swirled among the crimson. “B-babe? What are you doing?” His face flared with an impossible red, his pants growing tighter and more uncomfortable with each passing second.

“I-I want to be good for you, Ei-Eijirou.” You cursed at the transparent fraudulence of your words. Kirishima, however, was too euphoric to care. Unsatisfied with the clumsy pace of your digits, he violently yanked his tie away. He made quick work of his shirt buttons, exposing the powerful mass of muscle hidden beneath. His large hands gripped your wrists tightly, guiding your palms against his sculpted torso. He eased them across the rigid canyons of his abdomen, his blush darkening at your touch. 

“S-so strong…” You rest your palms against his defined chest, leaning into the crook of his neck. The scent of his expensive cologne is overbearing as you imprint a fleeting kiss upon his skin. You feel his heart thump, his breath growing more erratic and unrestrained.

“F-fuck, princess,” Eijirou grits his teeth as you gently knead his flesh, throwing his head back to allow you more leeway. “I-It’s all to protect you, so I can keep you safe.” His muscles tense, affirming the immense power they hold. You pause to breathe, to steady yourself. It’s hard not to feel disgusted, not when that prominent protrusion bucks roughly against you.

But Kirishima is impatient. In an instant, you’re thrown unto your back, Eijirou looming over you with your wrists pinned beside your head. Lips smash against your own, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He presses his powerful body atop yours, his deep rumbles of delight sending vibrations across your skin. Shark-like teeth sink into your lips, humming as he savors the delectable metallic taste. Your pained whimpers, your weak gasps for air, they’re all so adorable. His fingers intertwine with your locks, pulling slightly to allow his tongue greater dominion over yours.

At first, you’re relieved when he finally pulls away - desperately trying to fulfill the oxygen debt he so eagerly created. But relief melts into abject terror as the muscles of his brow tense, his eyes squinting in scrutiny. Despite the invasive heat of his heavy pants against your face, you’re frozen. 

“Babe…” Kirishima agonizingly pauses. You wanted to break free from his suffocating gaze, but it was futile - every fiber of your being was utterly petrified. “Where’s your..” He glanced back to the window.

You couldn’t hold it back, the tears trailing down your cheeks. He figured it out, didn’t he? 

“Ei-Eijirou it’s not-”

His head snapped back to you. Fury danced upon the rigidity of his features, his breathing labored from barely restrained rage rather than impassioned lust. That voice, often jovial, was seethed through barred teeth. “Did you…?”

You choked on your frantic words, your sobs indicative of your guilt. “I-I’m sorry! I promise, I-I won’t try it ever -”

“Shut up,” Kirishima growls. His grip on your wrists tighten painfully, eliciting a sharp cry. In an instant, he releases his hold on one arm, slamming a balled fist into the bed mere inches away from your head. Your mouth gapes in terror, his knuckles straining threateningly against the skin. The fingers unfurl, instead quickly snaking around your throat in a vice grip. His thumb hardens, pressing against your windpipe with a crushing force. Hot, angry tears trail down his face, his teeth grinding against each other as he spits a stream of muttered vulgarities. You’re gasping; silently pleading for the respite of air, which only spurs his thumb to drive deeper against your throat.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut, heart wrenching in his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you. Why can’t you just let me keep you safe? What if you got hurt out there?” Every word threatens to break, his voice unsteady and pained. “Why couldn’t you just behave?!”

Kirishima’s senses regain when he sees your eyelids dipping, releasing his immovable hold. He cups your cheeks with calloused palms, tears mingling with your own as they drip upon your face. Somehow, his softened expression of apprehension is more terrifying than that of rage.

“I’ve been too lenient, haven’t I?” His hand left your cheek, slowly inching down your arm as he shook his head. Eijirou’s fingers interlocked with yours - and they harden. He isn’t choking you anymore, so why can’t you breathe?

“I’m sorry, princess. I don’t want to do this, but what choice do I have?”

You shake your head frantically, your sobs amplifying. He flashes a weak smile, a deranged attempt at reassurance.

“I-I need to punish you, (Y/n). How else are you going to learn?” A brief, apologetic kiss is placed at the corner of your mouth.

The hardened digits crushingly tighten.

“I just want the best for you. You know that, right?”

Tighter

All that work to earn his praise and leniency - gone. That trust you so meticulously earned was crushed, the bones in your hand threatening to do the same. Kirshima shushed your whimpers and cries of pain as he tightened his grip.

“Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Take it like a good girl, for me.”

Tighter

Blinding agony, blurred vision, his voice resounding against your ear.

“I love you,”

Tighter

“So never make me do this again.”

Hello hello. We need more MHA hcs, so could I request for yan!Kirishima hcs?? -😻

Yay! Finally another MHA ask. Of course 😻, here ya go!

Triggers: obsessive behavior, stalking, extreme stalking, mention of being kidnapped, punishments, physical punishment, short mention of being thrown into a wall, mention of Kiri driving reader and himself off cliff. And yandere like behaviors. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN READING!!!

Enjoy.

Kirishima

Kirishima seems to be more a harmless yandere, before slowly spiralling down into insanity.

He'll slowly turn into an obsessive stalker yandere.

~

It's fairly easy to get his attention, all you need to do is smile and have a pretty social personality.

That or be a Bakugou 2.0

~

He wouldn't even recognize it as an obsession, but more like he has a much stronger liking towards you.

He will begin by doing the stereotypical behaviors of crushing on someone.

He'll stare at you in class or other places.

He'll want to be around you more.

He'll try to befriend you, if you're not already friends.

Kirishima will ask people about you if he doesn't know that much.

~

Then he'll step it up and look for any of your social media.

He'll start to leave love letters in your locker/on your desk.

Maybe he might follow you around the halls of the school…

~

Then things go a bit too far …

Kirishima will start to look into the people you hang around, if you don't hang out with him and his friends.

He'll start to watch you more and more in class.

He'll stalk you in the hallways and hide before you can even see him.

It's ..it's still not that bad... right?

~

Well, this is when he starts to acknowledge his obsession with you.

But at this point, he thinks he has it under control.

Just a few pictures of you in his room.

Maybe a couple old pencils you forgot in class.

But he'll keep up his stalkerish tendencies.

Kirishima will start to stalk you on your way home or to work.

He'll keep constantly posted on your whereabouts.

His friends might start to get a bit concerned.

Shit even Bakugou will try to step in, and that will be the first time Kirishima snaps back at him.

~

Things will continue to spiral downwards until he finally hits rock bottom.

Bakugou and the others will try multiple times to intervene and get Kirishima focused on something else.

But once again, Kirishima will just snap at them over and over.

Until eventually he will just drift away from the group completely.

Even outsiders will start to notice the grave difference in his personality.

It's concerning to a lot of people.

But Kirishima won't let their weird stares at him stop him from making you his.

~

It will take awhile, and if you aren't friends with Kirishima, he'll take you away himself.

And being kidnapped by Kirishima isn't fun.

He'll likely try to be gentle with you, but every time you refuse he lashes out.

He doesn't have a whole lot of patience at this point.

He's likely been stalking you for about a year now, so he immediately expects you to love him back.

Punishments can rage anywhere from leaving you isolated for days on end.

To throwing you against walls repeatedly.

~

And if you drive him insane enough...well don't be surprised when he is driving both you and him off a cliff.

After all …

"If I can't have, my little pebble...now one is gonna have you…"

~

Inshort: Kirishima is probably one of the more unstable yanderes, and it's likely best if you don't get his attention.

Word count: 542

_________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

dying, dying, dying. Seriously. Why. 😳 I am red as a London Bus, seriously-

College!Class-1a! X Fem!Reader 18+Drabble

This is really starting out as imagination for being shared by the characters, then I thought of this. So in this the class has eyes on you and can’t help it but always wanted you. Then one day your professor takes it a step further. This is yanderish.

Class 1A: Izuku midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Ejiro Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou, Ochaco Uraraka, Mina Ashido, Shōta Aizawa, Hanta Sero, Denki Kaminari, Tenya Iida, Fumikage Tokoyami, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyouka Jirou

Warning: Sex watching, teasing, degrading, yandere content, masterbating, touching oneself to someone else, slight circle jerk?, professor x student, being used, authority play, hair pulling.

This is content that isn’t light of heart, filthy shit. So, dead dove do not eat. All characters are of age and consenting.

It was just another day in class, your classmates would drift their eyes to you occasionally to stare lovingly then turn away. You looked so cute today, like you did everyday, they always appreciated how beautiful you looked for them. Each time you’d look down or wrote in your notebook, Aizawa was staring at you. His eyes however didn’t look at your face but below the open deck to between your legs. That showed your pretty pussy all to him.

He could barely focus on his lesson with the picture of you in his mind, so he’d trip in his words and forget about what he was saying. This was new for him because he was always calm and steady, bored even. So the whole class took noticed his actions.

It wasn’t until he stopped fully while looking at you and the whole class followed his gaze in confusion. You didn’t even notice because you were taking notes and blocked him out until you got passed a point. “Y/n.” He sounded annoyed. Looking up to meet his glaring gaze you stare wide eyed at being in trouble.

“Yes sir.” He leaned on his desk and pointed in front where you would stand in front of the whole class. You gulped, “Stand up and go to the front of the class.” You flushed embarrassment at all the attention but followed his instructions to not get in anymore trouble. They all kept their eyes on your shy figure standing before them all in your school uniform. Aizawa made his way around and stood by you while putting a hand on his chin, inspecting you.

Turning his attention to the class, “Can anyone tell me what’s wrong with Miss L/n’s outfit?” You stared panic. All eyes looked at you from head to toe at the same outfit you wear every day, and they noticed everything you did. So the class stayed silent. Aizawa sighed and clicked his tongue.

“Surprising, you guys watched her like little bitches in heat.” He said amused with a eye roll, his demeanor changing quickly. The group looked at each other taken aback. Oh, you remembered clearly what you had done today. “I’m sorry-” his hand covered your mouth quickly and pushes you against the desk, the others getting defensive.

“Clearly your peer forgot the dress code,” you squealed when his other hand tugged at your skirt and lifted it. You struggled against him and tightened your legs together with tears picking up in your eyes. It was embarrassing…But also gave you a thrill.

“No panties under her skirt, she didn’t even close her legs.” You huffed as they all looked down at your cunt. Each of them turned red and moaned at the sight, the girls getting wet and the boys pants getting tight. “Shy? Awe, that’s pathetic.” He pushed you back and you were forced to take a seat in his desk.

“Show them, you know you want to be a good little slut.” You looked up at him with puppy eyes while he just smirked devilishly. But the problem to fighting back was simple. You didn’t want to. You spent nights imagining being fucked by your dorm mates, all of them you thought about along with your professor. So you nodded and slowly opened your legs for them to see each detail, your holes and clit. 

Now your eyes cried while your sweet moans poured out, the wet sounds of your pussy while his fingers thrust into you. Hands gripping the desk for support at how good the pleasure felt, your stomach twisting and turning. You couldn’t focused on your classmates to long while they all touched them to you.

The girls parted their legs while rubbing their clits and you could hear them too. Ochako and Mina fingered themself to match what you felt so they could feel one with you. The boys were surprisingly louder then the girl while stroking their cocks. Bakugo was more growling while fucking his hand as fast as he could go, Kirishima was soft and slow along with sero. Deku and denki were the loudest in the room, who got yelled at because they couldn’t hear you. But the other boys and girls kept quiet while touching themselves, afraid to make a sound.

Aizawa was painfully hard and made you rub him threw his pants for some relief, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way you cried, moaned just by him fingering you. It was intoxicating. “Cum- Oh fuck, going to cum.” You announced with your eyes rolling back.

“Dumb girl, think that’s what you get?” You cried out when he pulled out of you quick and left you empty. “All of you stop or I’ll fail you.” They all stopped and panted, caught in a haze of the high. “At least you all listen to me now, now pull up your pants and shit.” Groaning they all listened, the reality sinking in on them. You wiggled to get off the desk but he stopped you.

“Shoto, Ochako are the only ones who get to finish.” The two looked up and the rest looked at them. “Y/n here will finish you off,” your hair was gripped and pulled you off the desk. He forced you down onto your knees, “Well?” The two thought for a second but stood up to walk over to you, standing above you.

“All of you get to watch, be thankful.” He left you and walked to his chair and leaned back. So, you licked her pussy and gave him a hand job until they both came. Todoroki’s cum splatter on your face as you cleaned her pussy up, you got breathless fast. The end of class was awkward and silent, no one knew what to do or say. So you all just left.

But it was only a matter of time before you got home and the class was waiting for you to get their turn. Willing to do anything to get you.