Me When I Was Younger: I Like Horror Movies Cause Gore!!

Private Lessons: Part 1

Okay, so this is a rerelease of one of my earliest fics. It’s hard not to cringe but I love the story and I hope you enjoy it. This is chapter one of a yet-to-be-determined part series. Kinks are varied and will be listed in every chapter. We’re exploring folks. 

No real angst will exist in this fic give yourself some damn joy. The first chapter is fluffy build up! I present to you a smutty, light-hearted romance with a fun, upbeat, initially bashful reader and Shouta Aizawa!

Nice try,” you grumbled as you jabbed your elbow into the creep trying to get behind you in the subway. He got the message and moved to another section. Luckily, your stop was coming up soon, so you probably wouldn’t encounter too many more gropers.

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Flirtation Dictation (Professor Aizawa x Fem College Student)

This is my  1000 follower celebration fic! Anons frequently tell me they are reading my fics during class, and well, I don’t think Professor Aizawa would appreciate that. ;) 

Parts of this were a bit awkward to write considering my style, but I’m pretty happy with it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you all so, so much for your support. (Also just a side note Aizawa-sensei would never break the code of ethics *is yanked away by my friends*)

Warning: Professor x Student, spanking, humiliation kink, semi-public sex, unprotected sex. Milk is cum like once. Listen I tried to get all the Aizawa tropes.

Shouta Aizawa was far from boring. Well, at least to you.

He often told your class tales of valiant heroes taking on the world’s worst villains, and usually coming out on top. Sometimes he’d regale you with stories of his own heroic past, but being such a humble man, those were few and far between. 

Despite your sincere interest, you couldn’t help drifting off at times during his lectures. The depth and cadence of his voice made your eyelids feel heavy, eventually calling them to close as the words became your lullaby.  

Oftentimes you kept yourself awake by simply admiring his undeniably attractive frame. The man was beyond gorgeous. Silky ebony locks pulled back in a loose bun, long, lean body stood proudly as he spoke or scribbled concepts on the whiteboard. Sometimes you’d get lucky and steal a peek at his toned lower abdomen as he wrote on the whiteboard, relishing in the sinful chill the voyeuristic act gave you. No matter what he did, Shouta Aizawa exuding pure confidence and competence, something you certainly valued.

On this day you occupied your tired mind by reading. You’d covered the material on the previous night, and for you, it was simply a review. The tactic definitely paid off, but there was one problem, the content of this particular story had your thighs shifting together, hot arousal pooling between your legs. During an extra spicy excerpt, you couldn’t stop a quiet moan from slipping through your lips.

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i'm not just an "apologist" for that fictional character i'm his defence lawyer

I actually think it's cool and sexy of humans to be so intrinsically social that we bond with fake people we will never meet like I think that's really cute and a side effect of a highly adaptive trait and not at all pathological

Who Are You?

Theme(s): [Alice in Wonderland AU]: Caterpillar Aizawa

Pairing: Aizawa Shōta X Smol F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Drug Use, Implied Non-Con/Dub-con, Dark Undertones

Word Count: 2,260

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“that character is problematic” i am sick and twisted. next

There was a mouse in the house

Haarlep x Female Tav and Raphael x Female Tav (kind of) | NSFW

Warnings: cunniligus, p in v sex, voyeurism kind of? So I have not been able to play this game yet but this man has possessed me and something happened and yeah. I am going purely off a couple of youtube videos, vibes and horniness. It all started when Haarlep said that the host of they body they use feels everything they are doing which obviously means Raphael was well aware of what was going on in the boudoir.

He felt it the moment she set foot into the House of Hope. His fist tightened around the glass of wine he was holding and his artfully designed smile turned brittle at the edges as he felt the not unremarkable wards around his sanctuary open for an unauthorised portal. The potential client he was currently entertaining was none the wiser to his sudden inattention but he had hardly been paying attention to their prattling to begin with. His little mouse had decided to bite the hand that would have so willingly fed it, if she had only agreed to his generous offer. He hated to admit it even now but her continued refusal to work with him, even when he had already offered her so much had stung. He had allowed his ill advised affection for this particular client to cloud his typically impeccable judgement and as he should have foreseen, it was now being thrown back in his face. 

There was only one thing she could possibly be after, that which he would have freely given, well not freely but for such a reasonable price. But his house was not so hospitable to intruders. There was time yet to finish his business here. It may not be the soul he wanted but it was a soul nonetheless. He refocuses his attention on the task at hand, carefully choosing his words as he weaves his web around the man sitting before him. It’s easy work so he has to try that little bit harder to temper the simmering rage that is growing inside him. But then it is done, business concluded and he can see to his little thieving mouse.

As he is preparing to travel he feels the first shiver run down his spine. Surely Haarlep was not entertaining when there was a little thief on the loose and yet there was no mistaking that feeling. He pauses in the doorway of his rented room, uncharacteristically affected by his Incubus’ antics but something tells him to wait. There were only a few plausible possibilities for who could be the target of his servants attentions but before he can squash it his traitorous mind informs him exactly who he wants it to be. As soon as her name flits across his mind his body begins to betray him. 

His desperation for her to sign his contract, become one of his souls, well deep down he had been aware that this masked a much deeper, more primal want. How he wanted to own her body and mind as much as he craved ownership of her soul. Better not to dwell on those things, he had told himself, over and over. His needs were simple and really he could only rely on himself so why even risk letting anyone else close. But as he succumbs to the ghostly feeling of his body being touched by another he knows he is at the brink of his undoing. 

With a snap of his fingers his clothes are gone and as he falls back onto the suddenly convenient bed in his rented rooms, he concentrates on the vague tingling caresses in a way he hasn’t indulged in such a long time, until they begin to feel almost tangible. It seems his incubus is taking his time with this one, feeling and tasting as much as he can. He feels soft warm skin against his tongue, the taste unfortunately alluding him but he can almost imagine it as he recalls the spicy earthy scent that lingers around her every time they meet. In his hand he feels a soft breast cupped in his palm, a pebbled nipple circled by the pad of his thumb. He yearns to pinch it between his fingers, pull and twist it until she was gasping her pleasure into his mouth but he is restricted by whatever it is Haarlep choses to do next and when he feels her other perfect nipple against his tongue he can’t suppress a groan.

The floodgates were opened as his phantom teeth nibbled at her, every thought he had buried about her ample bosom, always so perfectly displayed in her coquettishly revealing armour, situated just so to tease and tantalise. He had never allowed the thought to linger previously, as well as any potential attraction she may have had towards him but now, knowing that she had requested Haarlep to take his form was confirmation enough. He could picture her as easily as he could feel her, she would be completely nude, the incubus would have insisted, spread out against his crimson sheets, her skin glowing in a beautiful contrast. He would find every mark and blemish on her left by any other inferior being and cover them with his own, made by his claws or his teeth until there was no doubt who she belonged to. He only hoped that Haarlep mapped her body as carefully as he needed so he could explore them all at his leisure. The smooth expanses of skin passing over his hands and lips filled him with hope that that was exactly what was happening at his house. 

He was more aroused then he could remember but he needed more even as he was hesitant to take things further himself. His cock even in his human shell stood erect between his legs, untouched though it was, and he had to fist his hands into the coarse sheets below him to avoid ending this encounter before it had truly begun. He felt his tongue trace what he only could guess was her belly button and his heart began to race at the destination the incubus was journeying towards. He settles back against the pillows as he imagined himself settling between her legs, his fingers spreading open her sweet cunt which would be already glistening with the slick evidence of her arousal just tempting him to taste. He feels her folds against the flat of his tongue, his own watering mouth simulating her wetness for him. He doesn’t need to but he finds himself simulating the movements he can feel, rolling his tongue against thin air as he would if he had her there to feast on himself.  

His hands must leave her thighs because he is all of a sudden blindsided by the vice like heat around his fingers. How excited she must be for the incubus’ thick fingers to sink into her with so little resistance although her cunt doesn’t seem to want to relinquish them as she clenches tight around them as they slide out of her. So close, she must be so close to cuming for him and he writhes, desperate to hear the sounds she would make as he pushed her to the point of oblivion. How her laboured breathing might feel against his heated skin, how she might moan or gasp or scream his name in her ecstasy. The feel of her around his fingers and tongue is suddenly gone, ripping him gasping from his fantasy and he feels bereft, sucking in heaving breaths as he remembers where he is but he is not left adrift for long, his hands finding contact with her soft skin once again. The feel of her grounds him even as the real sensation belongs to his incubus. In his fevered arousal he struggles to catch up with the pair of them, heated hands grasping at his shoulders, frantic lips biting at his own, a strong leg hooking over his hip pulling him in as close as he can get.   

It’s only when he feels the head of his cock lining up to her entrance that everything comes back into focus. He knows Haarlep and he knows exactly how he will tease her now he has her exactly where he wants her. He feels the drag of her folds over the head of his cock coating himself in her slick and stroking against her clit. He hopes she is begging now, begging to be filled by him. He would keep her waiting too, until there were tears falling down her cheeks and she could do nothing but whimper his name. He feels the tip breach her and then stop. He can’t bring himself to move as he waits with bated breath for her to be forced to take him fully and he waits and waits. He feels the spasms in his abdomen as everything is pulled taught and he spares a thought as he often does for his incubus’ impossible will power as he resists the temptation of her clenching hole. 

He begins to move so slowly, easing his thick cock into her inch by inch. Every time he thrusts he pushes a little deeper. She opens up for him so beautifully and he yearns to feel how wet she is for himself. He can’t help thrusting in time with Haarlep as he imagines her there with him now, riding his needy cock and having to work her way down his length until she could take all of him. He is straining against his horribly empty bed when his cock is finally sheathed in her soft wet heat and even the ghost of the sensation is enough to finish him. His climax hits him like a wall, muscles clenching as the pleasure shudders through his body. He arches off the bed as he spills his seed across his own chest, too high on his pleasure to even begin to feel shame at finishing untouched.  

He should move, he knows this but his limbs feel heavy and light simultaneously and he wishes to bask in this feeling for a moment longer. It is as he catches his breath he realises that the portal his little thief had used to breach his walls has closed. How curious. He acknowledged that he had lain here perhaps a little too long but surely not long enough for them to fight their way through the house and claim their stolen prize. Perhaps this little adventure of hers needn’t be the end of their game. He sits up preparing to rebuild his composure and return to assess the damage her and her party of misfits had left in their wake but he can’t keep the smile from his face. ‘Oh little mouse, you know not what you have started.’

How Rewarding (Hizashi Yamada x fem reader)

I completed some difficult tasks recently and felt we all could use a little reward for our hard work. My boy Zashi needed some love so, I hope you enjoy the quickie! 

(Posted with permission) Art by the amazing https://monouchro.me/ go look at all their stuff and give them endless love ladkjf;laj.  ———————————————————————————————————- Warning: One “Daddy,” smut. “I’m so proud of you,” Hizashi whispers, smiling against your skin as he peppers it with little kisses and love bites. The second you told him you’d completed your task, he made quick work of your clothing; stripping each piece of cumbersome fabric before lavishing you with praise and worship.   

“Th-thank ah~ you,” your nails dig meekly into the lean muscle of his back, something to ground you as his ministrations threaten to send your head spinning. 

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Private Lessons: Part 2

Reader part 1 here! Dw, it follows without the buildup.

Here’s the spice! I prepped the first two chapters before I released it. I’m not a sadist, we all know we’re here for the dirty stuff. The first smut is a bit self-indulgent. I have a daddy kink, sue me. 

Kinks: Bondage, teasing, teacher x student (AGED UP), mild Daddy kink and DDLG terms (no ageplay in this house), oral sex. 

Art not mine meep.

“Well, here we are, Sensei!” you announced as you crossed the threshold into your small apartment, Aizawa close behind. The tired hero removed his shoes alongside you, lining them neatly against the wall before giving the room a quick scan. 

“Not bad. A minimalist. Just like me.” A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Are you sure you’re alright with this?” uncertainty was present in his voice as he quirked a brow skeptically and shrugged off his leather jacket. It was hard not to swoon. He somehow managed to move gracefully even during such mundane tasks. 

“Of course! it’s my fault we stayed so late anyway.“ 

"Well, more like Hizashi’s,”  he corrected you with a light chuckle, sliding one hand in his pocket and sending the other running through his silky black hair. A relieved sigh ghosted past his lips. It was strange, standing in the home of a former student, but your confidence was reassuring. "I have a feeling you wouldn’t have sang karaoke for so long if not for his insistence." 

"True, but I enjoyed it! I think I want something warm to drink." 

Aizawa watched you bound off to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but think you looked cute like that; standing on your tiptoes, quietly humming to yourself as you searched the cabinets for tea. 

"Would you like some, Mr.Aizawa?" 

He shrugged and nodded, shifting his weight to the other hip. "Sure, (Y/n)Thank you for asking… You’re very formal, you know.”

“Well, of course! I understand a few years have gone by, but I still respect you as my teacher.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind” You missed the smirk pulling at his mouth as he slumped into the dining room chair. From the corner of your eye, you noticed him rubbing his palms on his eyelids. 

Half a decade had passed since then, but you hadn’t forgotten the severe injury suffered by the hero during a villain attack on the USJ. The incident left his eyes even more sensitive than they were previously.

Your lip tilted in a slight frown and you quickly tried to shake off the thought, unable to handle the image of him wounded and, undoubtedly, scared.

“Do you need eye drops?” you offered, tone laced with genuine concern, “I actually bought some recently, they haven’t been opened yet.”

One tired, dark eye cracked opened as he turned to look at you. “My, my, aren’t you considerate?”

Something in the way he spoke the words made you squirm. You palmed the back of your neck sheepishly. The heat quickly rushing to your face. Positive he could see the tinting of your skin, you turn away in haste. 

“W-Well, I just know it doesn’t feel good to have… dry eyes.”

Shouta softened at your words. Shit, he couldn’t even mess with you when you were being so sweet; it was too fucking cute.

“No need to get all rosy-cheeked (Y/n), just stating the obvious. I have some on me, but thank you for the offer.”

Your tense muscles relaxed. Satisfied with his response, you continued the process of making tea. If you recalled correctly, his favorite flavor was spiced vanilla chai. You found the blend easily, tossing it in the pot and leaving it to steep. A pleasant, warm aroma filled the air and you inhaled deeply to savor it.

Aizawa used drops in each irritated eye and held them closed with a deep sigh. letting the soothing solution settle in. They would help the irritation, but damn did it sting when the drops first hit his eyes.

You thought now would be a good time to catch up on some phone notifications, only to be disappointed that nothing worthwhile had come through during your evening. Spam, spam, ‘10 Ways To Spice Up Your Hero Outfit,’ text I don’t want to read, ‘Notorious Villain Captured By Rookie Team Kiribaku. All junk. you continued mindlessly searching through the feed until you heard the water start to bubble.

“Anything interesting going on in the world?”

The unexpected baritone voice almost made you leap out of your skin, knocking over a teacup and sending it careening towards the floor. Shouta reached out, catching the dish moments before it hit the ground. 

Apparently, the seasoned hero’s reflexes were as sharp as ever. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, kid.”

You squinted at his tone; it was far from apologetic. If you didn’t know any better you might believe he did it on purpose just to get a rise out of you. 

"Jesus, you’re like a cat.” you hissed, still frazzled from the scare.

A satisfied smirk split his face, “I take that as the highest compliment,” Shouta hummed, replacing the cup before quirking a brow and leaning past your shoulder to examine the box of tea leaves resting behind you, "Is that vanilla spiced chai?”

“Yep!” you chirped, perking up at the recognition, “I remembered seeing you drink it a few times during my school years. Hopefully, it wasn’t just because you had no other options, heh.”

Long arms folded over his chest as he gave you a quick once over. It struck him as… interesting that you’d remember such a mundane fact.

“No, I like it.” he assured you with a soft grin, “You really remembered that huh?“

"Y-yeah. Is… is that weird?” you shrank under his gaze, fearing you’d just outed yourself as a massive creep.

“A little,” the teacher chuckled, his reassuring smile going unnoticed as you couldn’t bring yourself to match his gaze. 

Your thoughtfulness was… endearing.

“Oh, s-sorry, well uh, heRE YOU GO!” hands trembled slightly as you passed the man before you a cup of the fragrant brew. He accepted gratefully with an appreciative hum before returning to the dining table.

A comfortable silence followed; the pair of you enjoying the comforting warmth of the tea. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that the sound of Aizawa’s fingers tapping rhythmically on the table broke through the quiet.  

“You know, normally people only remember tiny details like that when they have a crush.”

You choked on your drink. The sudden accusation had heat flooding to your cheeks and you starting sprinting down a path of panic and self-doubt, “WHAT!? Mr.Aizawa, please, don’t be ridiculous.”

His powerful shoulders shrugged casually as he took another lazy sip. 

“What’s All-Might’s favorite drink?” he interrogated, clearly amused and not interested in letting you escape the uncomfortable line of questioning.

You feverishly searched your memory. Dear God it was hard to even remember their faces right now, let alone their favorite drink.

“What about Midnight’s? Mic’s? Snipe’s? Any of your former classmates?” the pro hero’s tone was practically dripping with satisfaction. A smug grin creeping ever further up his cheek. Your reaction was almost too good. 

“I- I don’t know, and I bet you don’t either!” the words tumbled from you,  brows furrowed in concentration as you stared at the countertop. No way could you bring yourself to look at him right now.

“Nope, I sure don’t. But, then again,” your fingers dug into the wood, irritation creeping up your spine, “I don’t have a big. Fat. Crush on any of them." 

You slowly turned to glare at him, only to double over in laughter when greeted with his smug, toothy grin. 

”PFFFT! Okay, okay,“ giggles bubbled in your chest, forcing you to surrender, "yes, in high school, I had a crush on you. Most of the girls did, you know." 

He bobbed his head, lips held in a flat line giving him a serious expression. "This is true. I am devilishly handsome. It’s a curse, really." 

A pained groan escaped you as you rolled your eyes dramatically. You couldn’t help cracking a smile. His satirical narcissism always amused you.

"I think most female students find 'bad boy’ teachers attractive, Sensei.” You grabbed your tea and joined him at the table. A loud yawn shuddered through you when you settled into the chair opposite Shouta.

“Tired? It is pretty late. Perhaps you should sleep.” His own heavy lids drifted shut when he leaned into the chair back. 

You shook your head. "I’m alright. This will wake me up a bit. I know you stay up late most nights and I can’t have you rifling through my things.” He chuckled at your sly wink.

“Fair enough, I am the type.”

Another long silence followed until his voice once again cut through the air. 

“You know… there is a slight difference between you and the girls who normally swoon over me.”

“Oh?” You asked, taking another sip and preparing yourself for the 'you’re much more mature and less annoying,’ trope.

“I haven’t become attracted to any of them.”

Tea sputtered across the table as it rocketed from your lips. Shouta erupted into a rare and genuine fit of roaring laughter. He ran to your kitchen, pulling some paper towel’s from the counter before returning to help with the mess.

“Are we in a 1990’s sitcom?" 

Angrily, you snatched the towel from him, trying unsuccessfully to stop tea from trickling to the floor. 

"Why would you say something like that!? How embarrassing,”

Shouta crossed his arms and looked you over, watching your hands work frantically to clear the area of spilled liquid.  

“Because it’s true.”

The words shot jolts of electricity up your spine and you couldn’t help but stammer. “ I-I think you had too much to drink.“ 

"Nope,” he shook his head, grinning slightly, “Sober as a bird.”

Shit. 

Breathing became difficult as your throat constricted. Were you really hearing this? Shouta Aizawa, pro hero Eraserhead, your former teacher, just confessed to you.  

“But hey,” he added casually, throwing his hands up. “if you’ve grown out of that crush I understand. No hard feelings.”

Your eyes lifted from the spill and slowly scanned his frame, paying special attention to the way his toned stomach remained visible through his tight-fitting black sweater. His body was relaxed yet alert, and that fucking hair of his. It rippled in loose waves around his shoulders and you couldn’t help imagining how it would feel tangled in your grip as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. The lewd thoughts sent your heart racing and your face filled with blood.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” he chuckled, noticing your dazed appearance. He scratched his head in thought, glancing to the side momentarily before setting his eyes on you again. “Well, if you wanted to test it out, I could always give you… a kiss?”

Oh fuck. 

“I never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, though. So if I’m being a creep, let me know. I’ll back right off.”

You knew he meant it, but with the way your mind was spinning and your eyes roved his solid frame, you knew there was no chance in hell you’d let this opportunity slip through your fingers. Jesus, you were practically drooling just admiring his fully clothed body.

“Y-Yeah, okay.” you barely managed to squeak out the words.

“'Yeah okay’ leave you alone? Or 'yeah okay, kiss me Sensei?’”

You shut your eyes tight and felt the tension rise in your neck and cheekbones, before mustering up the courage to answer.  

“Y-yes, you can kiss me… if you want.”

Gentle hands slipped around your waist, lifting you from the wooden chair. They pulled you closer, and he tilted your chin up to his soft gaze.

“You know,” came his silky voice, so low and soothing, “it might be nice if you looked at me, even if just for a second. Don’t you wanna make sure you’re kissing the right person?”

You chuckled at that, opening one eye dramatically for a quick peek. His handsome face beamed down at you and you can’t remember the last time you felt butterflies take off in your stomach. 

“Yep, that’s the right guy.”

His rugged features softened at your words. He was mesmerized by the innocence in your needy, lust blown eyes. Cool, nimble fingers brushed soft strands of hair from your face as the other came up to cup your cheek, almost protective in the way he cradled it in his palm.

“You’re beautiful…(Y/n).”

Your plush lips parted and his mouth pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss that had you leaning, no, melting into his touch as quiet moans of comfort reverberated between your lips. It was like a soothing melody; almost unheard and meant only for you. The gentle tickle of his tongue dancing with yours, the pauses, groans, and sighs, all worked together to put you in a blissful trance.

A small whine left you as he pulled away.

“So,” he sighed, forehead resting against yours affectionately, “still have a thing for your grouchy homeroom teacher?" 

His half-lidded eyes searched your face, brows furrowed in focus as he sought out any signs of discomfort or trepidation.

If you didn’t before, you sure as shit would after that. 

"Mhm,” is all you could manage through your almost painful grin, pleasant warmth bloomed in your chest and spread throughout your limbs. You buried your face in his strong chest, earning an ‘aww’ from the rugged man above you. He laughed gently as he stroked your hair, enjoying the way you sought comfort in his arms. 

Shouta couldn’t help noticing something different in the way you now clung to him. 

“My goodness,” he spoke slowly, the bass in his voice vibrating your shoulder, giving you a pleasant shiver. A nervous knot formed in your stomach when he suddenly pulled back to examine you, “my dear student, your face is quite red… you seem to have gotten a bit warmer as well." 

Amusement and arousal welled in him when you squirmed beneath his scrutinizing gaze. "Could it be that someone’s a little… excited?”

Your knees grew weak and you let out a needy, shuddering whine. It wasn’t until then that you noticed how wet you’d become from the kiss. 

“Hmmm… I thought so.” he clicked his tongue, “Flushed cheeks, warm skin, thighs squeezing together for just a hint of friction. All the signs are there."  Thick ribbons of raven hair rustled elegantly as he shook his head with a hopeless sigh.

"Yeah… so what if I am?” you giggled, somehow completely unashamed, burying your face in the safety of his chest once more. He pulled you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“If you’d like, I can offer you some… relief.”

The words ignited you, legs trembling and muscles going weak in his embrace. It didn’t go unnoticed and Aizawa nipped your earlobe with a devilish grin. He gripped your chin, turning you towards the dining room. “You have a really nice table over there, why don’t you go lay on it for me?”

You peered back at him, mind swirling with all the possibilities; all of which ended with you screaming his name for everyone in the building to hear. Reluctantly, you pulled away, legs barely supporting you as you drifted to the table where you sat, legs crossed and dangling over the edge. 

Aizawa approached you, confident now that you wanted this just as badly as he did. Your bare knee grazed his thighs as his long, thin fingers slipped up your exposed calves, sending a light shiver up your sides. His mouth hovered close to yours, warm breath breezing over your plush, parted lips, thrilling you with the possibility of another mind-blowing kiss. 

Fuck, you wanted him. You needed him. 

“Yeah,” he growled, looking down at your closely folded legs, “that’s not gonna work for me." 

Faster than you could react, his irises flashed red as he bound you with his capture weapon, spreading your legs for better access. You squeaked pitifully in surprise, much to his satisfaction.

"Gotcha,” he chuckled, hands holding the fabric out to either side of you. He groaned at the sight. You chest heaving with need, eyes wide, legs spread open like a book before him. It sent a rush of adrenaline flooding through his veins. 

Oh, the things he wanted to do to you. 

“You really are considerate,” he purred, quirking a brow to look up at you, “Did you wear a skirt hoping I’d do this?“

You knew he didn’t need an answer. He was getting off on watching you writhe beneath him, and you loved every second of it. You’d half expected him to chide you for wearing something so unsuitable in cold weather, but thankfully he seemed to be thinking with his other head for the time being. 

He pushed down hard on your shoulder, urging you to lay flat on your back, your legs still held open wide by the strong fabric. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he relished in your helpless appearance.

"This is just how I imagined you. Aching, on display, and ready for me to inspect.” He clicked his tongue, pondering over his options. “I think since you’re so partial to formality, you should continue calling me, 'Mr. Aizawa, 'Sensei,’ and, 'Sir.’ Do you understand,(Y/n)?”

You’re so high on adrenaline and dopamine all you can focus on is your unending need to be fucked senseless. You nodded, but he shook his head. “That’s not an answer, princess.”

“Y-yes Mr. Aizawai, Sir.”

"There you go.” he groaned, blood rushing to his already stiffening cock, “You always were a fast learner.”

“W-wait,” you tried to protest as he wrapped one end of the scarf around his own shoulder, freeing his left hand to toy with your dripping folds.

“Shhh… Let your teacher get a good look at you.” A violent blush claimed your cheeks and you squirmed against the restraints. Fuck, he was so close, staring right at your quivering pussy with darkened eyes. “Be bashful all you want, I see everything just fine.”

Steady fingers reached forward, confident as they pulled your panties to the side to reveal your puffy pink lips. You tensed up at the sudden vulnerability, exposed for his viewing pleasure and powerless to close your legs and hide it.

His lips pursed to form a low whistle.

“Damn… to think you were hiding something so perfect from me this whole time. What a pretty little pussy you have… You tense up when I look at it,” he groaned, tilting his head slightly, “the way it squeezes around nothing… so eager. it makes me want to sink my cock into you.”

Your hands flew to your face in a failed attempt to shield your embarrassment and stifle the shameless moan that ripped through your body. It felt like a fire was sparking to life between your legs with every second you withered under his lustful gaze.

His thumb grazed your opening, collecting just enough dew to prime your clit for him to rub.

"Ahhh, M-Mister Aizawa, pleeease.”

He gently stroked the swollen bud, steadily tapping and flicking, watching your hips buck to the rhythm as you twitched with every jolt emanating from the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Just making sure it’s nice and ready for me.” His palm turned upward and he took the time to drink in your lewd expression before sliding a middle and ring finger inside your aching walls, curling them into the soft flesh that made you squeal. He cursed when he felt your walls cling to him, coating his fingers in your juices.

“S-Sensei, Ahh.”

“Mmm. That’s it. Melt around my fingers, kitten.”

The pet name brought you higher than you thought possible. Your eyes rolled back and your ass arched off the table. You needed him deeper and your greedy cunt was begging for more.

“Yeah… that’s a good girl.” He was intoxicated by the image of you mewling and begging while he twisted his skilled fingers, thrusting them into you over, and over again. Your cries become more desperate as he quickened the pace, fuelled by the high pitched sounds tumbling from your throat.

“Please, Sirrr” you pleaded breathlessly. 

"Please what,(Y/n)?”

“Don’t stop -ah- it feels so good~”

His lips curled as he left you empty, nearly causing you to cry at the loss of contact.

“Sorry kid, but I’m a bit selfish.” Aizawa tied the ends of his scarf to the table legs, restraining your entire lower body, then pulled up a chair to position himself in front of your wide-open legs.

“That’s better,” he grumbled, pleased with his new position, “now I can get a good look at you.”

“That’s so embarrassing, stoppp” It was no use. You couldn’t move your legs against his capture weapon and the loss of control only worked to further soak your eager cunt.

“Sorry, no can do. My little girl’s pussy is way too cute not to look at.

“His” little girl?

Your heart leaped in your chest but you didn’t have time to revel in the moment.  His head dipped and he tore a small hole in your panties with his canine before ripping them from you.

"What are you doing?!”

“They were in my way. I couldn’t risk letting you escape by untying you first.” a mischevious grin split his face and it had your hair standing on end. Fuck, he was such a tease. “It was the only logical option." 

He pulled the tattered fabric to one side, leaving you completely bare. Blood rushed to his cock and a carnal growl rolled from him as his hungry eyes consumed the quivering pink flesh between your folds.

"You see,” -he propped his elbow on the table, resting his cheek lazily in one hand, starting to work against your silky walls with the other- “when I make you cum, I think I deserve to see every little shudder and throb this pretty cunt makes. Don’t you agree?”

Again you try the restraints against your thighs. 

“Tsk, tsk. See? I knew you couldn’t be trusted. Can’t have you being bashful and interrupting my show.”

You’re filled in an instant when he plunged his skilled fingers deep and your back arched off the table, head tossed back in an unrestrained moan. You were helpless against the skilled digits, grunting and whimpering as he worked you up to a peak. 

“I think this puffy clit needs some attention…” He leaned forward, pressing his tongue to the neglected bud. You moan loudly as he licks in rhythm with his beckoning fingers. Lips wrapped around the swollen bundle of nerves and he groaned against it, eyes closed as his mind swam in a lustful haze.

“Fuuuuck yes Mr. Aizawa.”

“My, my, such foul language from such a good girl. Are you maybe a little naughtier than you let on?”

You trembled as his fingers dove deeper, rubbing firmly on your g-spot. Wet, warm walls squeezed hard around the invading digits. Your hips rolled and you chanted his name like a mantra. Scruffy lips vibrated against your clit as he moaned into your pussy, your mewls of pleasure and the sweet taste of your arousal going straight to his aching cock. He pulled back briefly to notice your tensing and quivering muscles.

“Ohh… you’re getting close.” He licks your clit again, pinching it briefly between his teeth.

“P-Please don’t stop… Daddy!” 

Oh fuck, you didn’t mean to say it. But it just came out.  

His head snapped up at the name.

“Oh shit. Daddy? FUCK,” his movements began again with renewed purpose and he was about to lose his damned mind, “fuck yeah babygirl cum on my tongue.”

He wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves once more, pairing his sucking with skilled flicks of his tongue. He committed fully to pushing you over the edge and you lost yourself in the sensation. You cried out his name, jerking your hips as much as you’re able with them bound. His free hand reached up to play with your over-sensitive nipples at just the right time and you exploded around him. Your moans were shameless as you flooded his tongue and palm with your juices. His pace slowed and he rode out your orgasm, relishing in every last throb before withdrawing his hand in favor of smoothing his hands up your trembling thighs as he left one more appreciative kiss on your pussy.  

You lay spent and satisfied, panting heavily.

“Well well, someone’s happy.” He said with a grin,. “What do you say?”

“Thank you s-sir,"  you barely managed to choke out the phrase. 

"Mmm, that’s it. Come here.” He walks to where your head lays at the edge of the table and brushes his fingers on your lips.

“Clean them off for me.”

Your heart jumped and goosebumps spread over your skin, but you happily obeyed, lavishing your tongue over the digits. His breath hitched when your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him through your lashes. 

“Good girl. Fuck, (y,n) you looked so beautiful like that.” 

You softened under him, melting at the adoring look in his eyes. His nose nuzzled against yours briefly before he pecked you softly on the lips, silky tresses of his messy hair tickling over your cheek. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, still in a stupor from the intensity of your release. 

“Good.” 

A calloused thumb stroked your cheek. Shouta leaned down to your ear, letting warm breath breeze over your skin.

“I liked that little pet name…” 

Aizawa hummed, positioning himself so that his crotch was level with your head. Dark eyes gazed down at you with that strict, all-too-familiar expression he wore as your teacher all those years ago. 

“Then wouldn’t it be polite to repay my generosity?“

Can you do a Smut Karl fic with female reader as Ethan Focused on the part that Karl proposes to Ethan an alliance but with the reader accepting it?

I really like your writing and I think you would do it really well ^^

Oh god, oh jeez, first ask for exclusively NSFW--

2 things: one, there's going to be a little bit of buildup before the "good bits", because I wound up writing a whole-ass fic, and two I have never written a whole-ass fic like this before. Let me know if you like it, I would be more than happy to re-do with bullets if you prefer!

TW: NSFW (Meaning 18+), female reader, Reader is Sassy, rewriting the Heisenberg confrontation, and Heisenberg is a little smitten already, also crazy long post. As In 3259 words total.

Let me know If I miss anything, so I can add it to the list above. NSFW newbie (read: I've got no idea what I'm doing), so I don't know what/how to tag. Enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Truth Hurts, don't it?"

You spin around, coming face to face with the man who's been harassing you for the past few hours.

You kiss your teeth and say nothing.

Karl Heisenberg, the last Lord in your way, doesn't seem to mind your lack of response. Instead, he grins, like your reaction pleases him.

He takes a drag of his cigar. "You think that you can just take me out like the others and then you get to go and save Rose, right?"

It's like he's implying that you can't, and after the day you've had it lights a fire in your stomach.

"She's just a baby," Your voice shakes with barely suppressed rage. "She doesn't deserve any of this. I won't let it happen."

"Easy there, Buttercup," Heisenberg takes a couple steps closer to you, exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke that drifts out from underneath his hat. He smiles like he's about to sell you something, and it puts you on edge. "You've got this all wrong. I--"

There's the sound of a revving engine and your anger fades as you ready yourself for a confrontation, unholstering your gun and looking for the source of the noise. Heisenberg swears, glancing between you and a grate on the floor, before stalking over to it and wrenching it open.

"Shut your fucking hole!" he yells, and the engine makes a stalling sound before cutting out completely. He slams the grate shut, and you take advantage of his distraction to reload your magnum. You don't want to run out of bullets if this encounter goes...south.

There's an awkward pause in the new silence before Heisenberg speaks up again.

"Sorry about that," he mutters. The apology comes off as weirdly genuine.

Before you can stop yourself, a laugh bubbles out of your throat, "Oh, just for that?"

For a split second, you think you've made a massive misstep, because Heisenberg takes a few quick steps in your direction, pointing a hand at you like he's going to get in your face--

Then he stops short, so close that his face is less than a foot away from yours. He lowers his hand, takes a deep breath, and works his jaw for a couple seconds like he's getting his thoughts together. His expression--weirdly enough--settles into a smile.

"I'm a little out of practice for apologies, Buttercup. But you're alive right now because you proved yourself. Which means, you're an asset. I'd take the win if I were you."

You might have been intimidated if that didn't just push every annoyance button in your soul. The anger that you just managed to suppress simmers a little higher as you search his face, hoping to get a read on what the hell this asshole might have been thinking. Unfortunately, the dark glasses obscuring his eyes do too good of a job at hiding any emotions other than what's painted on his lips. He's a good looking man, with an excellent poker face. All you can register is his amusement.

Frustrated, you can't resist rolling your eyes. "Oh, so I'm supposed to be grateful that you had me chased by lycans and forced through a meat grinder?"

His smile widens at the words 'meat grinder'. "It stopped before it killed you, didn't it?"

"Spare me. Like you had anything to do with that."

Heisenberg's smile drops.

Shrapnel and spare metal suddenly whirls off the floor in a tornado of blades, the grates on the floor rattle and the furniture around you twists through the air. One of the sharper pieces of metal whips through the air and presses a dull edge to your throat. Pipes start to creak, door frames warp in place and through all the chaos Heisenberg glowers down at you.

"You have no idea what I can do," he snarls.

Apparently your sense of self-preservation has been irreparably damaged after your experience today, because you ignore the shrapnel at your neck and laugh again, inching your head close enough that your nose nearly brushes against his. "Now, now, handsome," you coo, sweet and teasing and low, "you're supposed buy me dinner first!"

You only say it to throw him off his game, to be condescending and rude and to show you're not afraid of him...But. But. But.

Heisenberg wets his lower lip with a quick swipe of his tongue.

A noise too soft to be a growl rumbles through the air, and the sound is so deep you can feel it in your bones despite the distance between you. He tilts his head ever so slightly--causing the tip of his nose to brush against yours so quickly you think you've imagined it--and exhales a long hot breath in you face, just over your mouth.

Then with a loud clatter, the metal in the room drops back to the floor.

Heisenberg takes a step back.

Your brain short circuits. What the hell.

Heisenberg chuckles thinly, filling the silence between you both, then takes another drag from his cigar. "Fair enough, Buttercup. But, uh, let's save dinner till after we talk business."

With a flick of his wrist, a metal chair skids across the room to screech to a stop right next to you.

"Have a seat," He gestures theatrically to the chair, and you slip past him, making a point to drag your gaze ever so slowly from his feet, up his legs, lingering on his muscular chest before resting on his face.

It's meant to be an 'I'm watching you' gesture--and a callback to your attempt at an insulting flirtation--which is why you're surprised when he averts his gaze and clears his throat.

Heisenberg stalks over to the cork-board.

You oblige your "host" and sit, but decide to keep your gun out. When he turns to face you again, you flick the safety off the magnum and prop it on your knee, the barrel pointed directly at him.

You see him raise an eyebrow over his glasses. "Is that really necessary?"

You smile pleasantly at him and bat your eyelashes. "Oh I couldn't possibly say. Why don't you tell me?"

"Cute," Heisenberg lifts a finger, and the safety clicks back on. You scowl. "But I am trying to build a little trust here, Buttercup. A good partnership takes trust from both sides."

You blink, stunned. "Partners."

So he was trying to sell you something.

"Partners," he repeats back with a sharp grin. His smile is dangerous, but the adrenaline that's been powering your every action since you got to this little slice of Hell makes you focus on the curve of his lip and the sharpness of his canines.

You shift in your seat and take a long, slow breath. There's a heat curling in your abdomen that makes you cross your legs and force yourself to refocus. You really shouldn't have flirted with him-- it's clearly made your brain misfire in all the worst ways. Now was really not the time.

Thankfully the man across from you interprets your silence as permission to continue.

"Listen, Buttercup, you're being played," Heisenberg drops his cigar to the floor and stamps it out. "Miranda's got you so focused on Rose you're missing the bigger picture here."

Your eyes narrow, then dart over to the gilded photograph of the strange hell angel who had sentenced you to death when you first arrived. There's red string branching out from the photo like legs on a spider, and it loops around pins across the cork board to make an unsettling web. There's a lot of thought put into it's assembly.

Getting you here, setting up this whole scenario, with props and photos and pages of research, would be the world's most pointless, complicated double cross. Heisenberg clearly believes what he's telling you is the truth.

So.

"Tell me what I'm missing, then."

Lord Heisenberg's smile gets this manic tilt to it. "You're being tested. It's something Miranda likes to do, you see. Experiment," he spits out the word with earned resentment. "She wants to see if you're strong enough to be a part of her little family."

The words "Oh Hell No" come out of your mouth before you even process them.

Heisenberg laughs, long and loud. "I knew I would like you! Y'see, I'm of the same opinion," He makes his way over to you with slow, measured steps. "She's been using you as her glorified cleanup crew, starting from the bottom and making you move right up the chain! So I figure, why not give the lady a choice?"

There's a little thrill that jumps through you the closer he gets, and you need to shut that down fast. And babies have a remarkable way of killing the mood. "How does Rose come in?"

Heisenberg snorts, "Do you have any idea how powerful that kid is? Even Miranda is scared of her."

He then takes off his glasses, allowing you to finally get a good look at his eyes. Steel Blue--and they're unwarveringly, unflinchingly focused on you.

"You and me? We go save Rose, and then we can use her, to grind Miranda into paste," his hisses with relish.

Your eyes once again dart between the conspiracy theory board and the man who put it together. There's this edge to him that's almost... desperate. Hungry.

Finally, you gather your thoughts enough to speak. "If we're going to be partners, we can't use Rose like that."

Heisenberg's eyes flicker, and he straightens up slightly. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"

You stand up and put your free hand on your hip. "It means Rose is a goddamn baby, not a weapon. Considering the fact that I already took out the rest of your family without her, I'd say you and I have a pretty good shot at this, without stooping to Miranda's level."

"Not that I don't appreciate a gun and a can-do attitude, but Miranda's more powerful than you think--"

"Heisenberg," you taste the name on your tongue slowly, and stop kidding yourself--you're hit with a punch of lust when his pupils visibly dilate at your call. "I have the number of a strike team that was specifically created to eliminate and contain biohazards. We could probably just nuke her, if you want to play it that way."

The Last Lord looks at you like you've gifted him the greatest possible visual he could have ever conceived. "I do believe that would solve the problem," he beams so bright you could swear his eyes start to glitter under the brim of his hat.

"Then do I have your word that we leave Rose out of it?"

Heisenberg steps into your personal space yet again, but this time you feel the hairs on your arms stand on end. It's like his excitement has charged the air around you with static. You immediately refocus when he holds out a hand for you to shake.

"It's a done deal, Buttercup."

Sliding your gun back into it's holster, you extend your hand to grasp his.

In a moment like this, after sealing a deal, you would expect a quick shake before getting down to more official business. Instead, the both of you are caught in the moment--relief and anticipation and a twist in your belly that's making your blood run hot. Heisenberg doesn't seem to be too eager to break the silence either, and though you pick up satisfaction in his expression, the hungry glint in his gaze that you noticed earlier is still there...

...And he's not letting go of your hand.

In fact, his grip tightens on your fingers as he leans forward, pulled towards you like you've become a gravitational force. His eyes are half lidded as he looks down at you, greedily taking in everything that he sees.

"To killing Mother Miranda," He murmurs, his face close enough that you could count his eyelashes, "before she destroys any more fucking lives," he growls.

"God, she's such a bitch," you breathe.

Heisenberg lunges forward to kiss you so hard you feel his teeth collide with yours.

Your self control snaps and you pull him even closer. Your hands scramble up his back, under his jacket, digging into his shirt hard enough to tear the flimsy fabric. Tilting your head, you part your lips and allow him access, and he immediately takes it as an invitation to run his tongue against yours, groaning so deeply you feel the sound in your own lungs. It's like you're trying to devour each other. Somehow you stumble backwards, pulling Heisenberg with you until he's the one actively pressing you into the wall. His thigh slips between your legs, and the friction is enough to make you moan. He finally breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

His eyes are glued to yours, and his breath is hot and fast in the space between you. "If you want to stop, it's got to be now," he warns. "I'm not the kind of man who can easily stop once I get what I want--"

Impatiently, you cut him off by grinding down on his thigh, "If you don't hurry up I'm doing this myself."

He chokes on an inhale at the sight before him before finally finding his voice, "You're something else, you know that?"

"We're Partners now," your voice wavers when you hit just the right spot, eyelids fluttering from the sensation. "I-I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"Fuck's sake," is all he says, forcing his mouth back over yours.

You dip your hands to your waist and pull your pants down over your hips while Heisenberg does the same, neither of you breaking the kiss. You only part briefly to shake them off your legs. Heisenberg doesn't bother with his, instead occupying himself with leveraging you against the wall and hooking your knees up and over his hips.

"Shirt off," he growls. You hastily comply, and your new partner wastes no time dipping his head to your collar bone to press his lips to your pulse point. Your heartbeat jumps and Heisenberg smiles into your skin.

His kisses turn into little love bites along your collarbone and dipping down between your breasts, occasionally sucking a hickey into spots that make you hold back little whines and gasps.

It's too much. It's not enough. Your hips cant forwards against his hard on, making him gasp instead, and he pulls back enough that you finally see what you're working with. His cock is thick and long, and he's apparently worked up enough that the tip is already dripping.

You reach up to tug the hair at the back of his head, forcing him to make eye contact with you again as you use your other hand to gently work yourself onto his dick. He's big enough that there's a stretch despite how wet you are, and you bite your lips to hold back a whine, but it's entirely worth it. The face he makes is perfection--a furrowed brow with pupils blown wide and swollen lips parted. It's an extremely satisfying expression to see on the Lord of the Factory.

You both pause, just taking in the new feeling, but eventually the sensation starts to get to you. You clench your walls down around him and he hisses, glaring at you halfheartedly. "Come on now."

You snicker. "I'm trying to."

Karl snorts. Then he snaps his hips into yours and it cuts through your laughter.

"Fuck," you gasp in surprise.

"I'm trying to," he mocks back.

It's annoying as hell, but you can't be mad when he starts to fuck you in earnest, his cock sliding into you deep and hard.

Time feels like it's running in slow motion, and you try to match his thrusts, swiveling your hips to drag out the sensation. Eventually the two of you hit a rhythm that has you both sighing in pleasure--Long steady strokes that make your thighs clamp down on his hips.

It's still not enough. You're starting to get desperate. You move your free hand down to where your bodies connect, your finger slipping past your lips and just far enough inside that you can feel yourself take every stroke. It's full and tight and good enough that your brain is going numb.

Heisenberg is equally appreciative, groaning while biting down so hard on your shoulder that you know it's going to bruise black.

You moan in response, moving your attention to your clit and trying to chase the feeling higher. You just manage to catch the right rhythm when Karl lets go of one of your legs to force your hand away.

Just as you're about to let out a noise of protest he cuts you off with a swift kiss. When he pulls away, his smile is dark enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"None of that now, Buttercup. Either you let me do it, or it's not happening at all," he says.

You curse but wrap your arms around his neck, wordlessly letting him do what he wants. You're rewarded when a calloused thumb starts to rub circles into your already sensitive clit, and the rough texture paired with the steady tempo makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head.

"Fuck, fuck, just look at you," Heisenberg sounds almost drunk as he gasps out the words, hiking your legs even higher on his hips. The shift in angle makes you let out a soft whine, and your head thumps back into the wall. "How am I supposed to take my eyes off you, huh? Making a face like that."

Your mouth falls open, but words don't come.

Heisenberg snarls, pressing you even harder against the wall. With every thrust you're pounded back hard enough that the cement starts to scratch you up through your shirt. His head drops to your neck, and you can feel his lips shift against your skin before your ears actually pick up what he's saying.

"--You an' me, Buttercup, just you an' me, and we're gonna get our fuckin' dues--"

He's babbling, practically feral as he ruts into you, and you can barely hold it together. Your walls start to flutter and you know what's coming, but just as you think to warn him, he pulls out of you almost completely, and then slams back in.

You see stars.

It only takes a few more thrusts before your pleasure peaks like a flash of electricity, and you cum with a cry. Karl follows you seconds after, groaning into your neck and continuing to grind into you, working through the aftershocks.

It takes a while for your your thoughts to get coherent again, but there's no rush. Heisenberg keeps you pressed into the wall, leaning his forehead against yours and using his free hand to rub circles into your hip bone. The quiet is soothing, and it's the safest you've felt all day.

As you both take in the afterglow, there's another rumble of an engine from the grate in the floor.

Heisenberg sighs, and lifts his hand. The grate lifts, and with a twist of his wrist a hammer from the worktable flies down the shaft. There's a loud clang, and then the saddest little whirring noise you've ever heard.

Catching your breath, you meet his gaze, "That happen often?"

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Don't you worry now, Partner. You'll get used to it."