Not Now Kitten, Daddy Has To Write Strange Self Indulgent Fan Fiction.

I should be on someone’s lap getting my neck kissed and ass grabbed right now 🙄

kitten i'll be honest daddy isn't sure he's cut out for full time employment

Umm personally I don't know why but I see a professor Enji as either a strict maths teacher or a die hard ex military PE teacher that makes ypu run 50 laps for a small mistake but has (secretly) major hots for a certain innocent young student of his 👀

yes yes yes i am all for this ♡

this is an older ask, but lemme scribble out a quick somethin’ for it~

tags/warnings: tw age difference, pervy teacher Enji, tw teacher student, all characters are of age, tw abuse of power, tw power imbalance, virginity kink, sweat kink, punishment

word count: 922

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You’re faltering.

Twentieth lap and you’re faltering- pace slowing and sweat dripping from your brow, shirt beginning to cling to your form as you force your legs to keep going.

You have thirty more laps before you can stop.

Your crime? Whispering to a friend as you filed out onto the field during class earlier that day.

His punishment? Keeping you after school and making you run fifty laps around the soccer field in the blistering hot sun.

Enji takes a sip from his water bottle and watches as you struggle along your run- eyes hungry and shaded by his sunglasses, arms crossed over his chest.

Such a good student, usually- Enji has never really needed to punish you, scold you. You’re always so respectful, so polite- not like his other students with their smart mouths and vulgar tongues.

Respectful, polite, courteous, and...stunning.

Enji’s eyes follow you and his lashes lower as they take in your bare legs and sluggish stride, the slight jostle of your breasts. You pass him, panting, and you pause just for a moment, bend over and plant a hand on your knees as you try to catch your breath. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight, but then he’s frowning- scowling, eyes narrowed as he huffs.

“Run. You still have twenty laps to go.”

The words have you flinching- shoulders drawing up high as you jolt back up- and Enji thinks he might hear a whimper sound from you as you start to move once more.

Lips twitching, he watches you- standing stoic and still, uncaring of the way the sun beats down on him and has sweat trickling down the back of his neck. You have to be thirsty, he knows, but Enji doesn’t bother thinking about it- instead he wonders if any of the little shits in your grade have got to you yet, if you’re still a good girl or a slut like all the other girls that keep bringing shame to your senior class.

He thinks you’re good- you always shy away from the boys in the class, never really seem to have much friends. You probably haven’t been given the chance to be bad. Which is good, of course- girls like you are rare these days and the thought of some fumbling, inexperienced brat claiming you first sets his teeth on edge.

Innocence is wasted on idiots.

Ten more miles, five- you grow slower and slower with each lap and you only kick up the speed when he tells you to get it into gear. You’re looking haggard now- exhausted and filthy and miserable- and Enji could almost swear your eyes are teary as you pass him on the second to last lap.

Finally, though, you’re done and you collapse onto the bench as soon as you pass the finish line- chest heaving and legs visibly trembling as you pant and gasp. Enji huffs and he reaches into his cooler, presses a bottle into your palm. He towers over you as you eagerly swallow the water down and watches the way your throat moves with the motion, traces the path of a sweat droplet as it slips down your chin, your neck, below your drenched shirt.

Plastic crumples as you squeeze a now empty bottle and Enji nearly snorts at how slick your face is, wets his lips when he’s greeted with the sight of yours- parted and shining, oh so very tempting.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks- voice a bit too low, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose to reveal bright turquoise eyes darkened into something murky, ominous. You startle at the question- sluggish, hooded eyes fluttering wide as your lips quiver. He hasn’t seen you like this before and Enji thinks he might enjoy it and the way you curl into yourself meekly, duck your head in submission.

A soft and weary “yes sir” slips from you and Enji clicks his tongue as he watches the way you clasp your shaking hands together- whole body tense and your breasts pressing against one another, the fabric of your shirt clinging to your chest and outlining your bra.

He can’t help but to wonder if what you wear underneath your shirt is white and plain and innocent or if it’s frilly, sweet, cute and so easily torn- if you wear lace or cotton, what shade your nipples are.

Enji allows himself one last look over your trembling form and he huffs, pushes his sunglasses back up into place.

“Hit the showers and head home,” he orders you. “I expect better behavior from now on.”

A flinch and then you’re nodding- eyes cast down as you mumble out another tiny “yes, sir” and something close to sniffle sounding as you shakily stand from the bench.

Enji watches as you stumble away- steps fumbling and clumsy, your gait drifting as you try to get back into the building without collapsing. You disappear from sight and Enji adjusts his straining cock in his shorts, glances down at the jacket you had shed and forgotten on the ground. It’s soft in his hand when he picks it up and it smells nice- soft and floral, just as delicate as its owner. He should scold you for being so careless with your possessions, teach you a lesson about personal responsibility.

Lips twitching, Enji heads to his office with your jacket thrown over his shoulder and the image of you panting and trembling and submitting to his punishment seared into his mind.

Eager (Shigaraki x Reader)

A/N: It would seem we are all secretly into Shigaraki being overexcited and under-experienced. 

Warnings: Dry humping turned wet humping, masturbation

Taglist: @fallingintoimagination​ @ikinabi​

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You’ve been living in the League of Villains hideout for quite a while now. It’s not fancy by any standards, your makeshift room simply being a somewhat clean mattress on the floor and no furniture to be seen. The room you occupy, as well as all of the other rooms in the building, is devoid of a door.

Tactically speaking, it’s a good thing that everyone can hear each other when needed. The downside of this, is the fact that you get to hear every time someone gets into an argument or eats or talks on the phone.

Or masturbates.

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hey it's my first time requesting so idk if this is the correct way to do it but...

could I request dazai with a darling that always tries to outsmart him (but fails)

Thanks for the request!

Warning for Violence (Blood, Attempts to kill/immobilize), Sexual Content (Boners)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««      

♡ It really only makes you more adorable in his eyes. There you are, grumbling in a corner, hatching your plans, while Dazai watches you with a grin on his face. He knows about the few items you snatched and hid in your pillowcase. Sometimes he ignores them on purpose, so it's a surprise to see what you're up to. But if he does catch a glance, he usually figures out your plans. Sometimes he slips in some bobby pins or the one thing you miss so your plan can work, just to make things more exciting for the both of you before waiting for you to act on it.

♡ Some plans involve merely escaping, Dazai always waiting for you to poke your head out of the chosen door or window, waving and congratulating you for your attempt before stuffing you back inside. The real fun only begins when you start getting physical. Knocking him out, spiking his tea with the meds he provided, and "accidentally" left out in the open. He pretends to be out cold while your hands roam through his pockets, finding nothing but dust and candy while you search for a key. It's something Dazai could get used to, having you explore him so thoroughly, but you always realize much too quickly he's awake, as he can't help his pants from straining against his crotch. When you look up at his face, staring into his wide-open eyes, all he says is, "Oopsie! You got me!"

♡ Getting stabbed is a little annoying, admittedly, but seeing you struggle to actually kill him is all the more exciting for him. You hate him, you want to escape, but you're not a born-and-raised murderer. It doesn't come easily to you to actually slit his throat, but damn, you're so sexy, straddling him, threatening his life with the butterknife he saw you swipe from the breakfast table. His hands roam your legs, hips bucking and making you gasp as you tell him to stop fucking moving. Still, his grin only grows unnervingly wide by the time he reaches your wrists, grabbing them and flipping you over. Before you know it, Dazai has you pinned under him, blood trickling from a shallow cut in his cheeks while he asks if you're ready to die with him, considering how easily you decided to kill him. It awakens the psycho in him, making you wish you wouldn't have acted on this dumb idea.

♡ Even Dazai understands how frustrating it is when nothing ever works, so he occasionally lets you 'win'. It's more of a reward for good behavior or when it's your 'anniversary' with him, but he pretends to mess up, letting you slip from his grasp, counting to ten before pursuing you. It has led to some wonderful chases around town and even through parks and forests, there being no better feeling than finally catching up to you, throwing you against a wall, and through breathless gasps, kissing you until you both almost pass out. Nothing could ever describe the feeling of lifting you up into his arms and carrying you back to his hideout, knowing you are his and can never escape him, no matter how much you try and cry in his arms. It's liberating to know nothing can take you from him, no plan, and no one else, and once the door closes behind your two, he'll get to have fun punishing you like you deserve.

God I'm a sucker for characters who are so utterly loyal to someone that they're completely unhinged. Characters who have no moral compass except their overwhelming devotion to whoever they've chosen to listen to. That's the good shit

Aizawa: You're my favourite student.

Shinsou: But I'm not in your class.

Aizawa: Precisely

i spend hours daydreaming about fictional things in bed so i can have the energy to get up and daydream about fictional things for the rest of the day

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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Date Night: Part Three (Yandere ErasermicxReader)

Request: I just wanted to say that I love you Date Night Fics a lot! Will there be a part 3 of it? 😊😆😆❤️

Part One Part Two

           Night was falling quickly that evening, and most houses were blended easily into the darkness, their occupants out for a Valentine’s Day celebration. One house though, isolated and outside of the city proper, was alive with light and sound. Inside, two men worked diligently in the kitchen, the whole home filling with the tempting aroma of the dishes they were making.

           “Alright,” said Aizawa, “the chocolate-covered strawberries are in the freezer. What can I help you with?”

           “Well, the lamb still needs a little bit longer in the oven, you want to start putting the broccoli and rice into the dishes?” Hizashi answered as he peered into the oven.

           “Sure thing. Do you know if she’s left work yet?”

“Um, let me check,” Hizashi said, scrolling through his phone for the answer. “The tracker says she’s still at work, but she’s probably going to leave soon. And when she does, we’ll only have like twenty-five minutes before she gets home.”

“We can make it,” Aizawa said with a determined nod.

The next few minutes were pleasantly quiet as the sound of clattering dishes resounded throughout the kitchen, Aizawa moving the steaming sides to their bowls and covering them to ensure that they would still be warm by the time you came back home. He set them down gently on his and Hizashi’s round dining room table, being certain to make sure that they weren’t blocking the vase of pink magnolias and crimson roses that he and his boyfriend had so carefully chosen. The roses had been Aizawa’s idea, as he wanted a flower that would properly set the mood for this holiday dinner, and he found their deep, vibrant color a fitting representation of his feelings. Hizashi, by contrast, had chosen the magnolias, wanting to add something utterly unique and beautiful to match you. And together, he and Aizawa thought, the effect was breathtaking.

           When Aizawa reentered the kitchen, he saw Hizashi with his face practically pressed flat against the oven door. Smiling in amusement, Aizawa silently slunk up behind him, then suddenly darting forward to place a kiss on Hizashi’s neck. The blond jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, having been concentrating too hard to even hear his boyfriend’s approach, but soon melted in his arms.

           “You know,” Aizawa chuckled, “it’s not going to cook any faster if you stare at it.”

           “I know that. I just don’t want it to dry out, so I’m keeping an eye on it.”

           “I’m sure it’s going to be perfect,” Aizawa reassured him. At that, Hizashi turned to him, his eyes wide and anxious.

           “But what if it’s not?” Hizashi asked nervously. “What if we’ve done something wrong? What if she says no?” At the mere mention of that possibility, Aizawa’s stomach clenched and then spiraled downward, all the way down and past the kitchen floor. And even though Hizashi had already had the thought, actually saying it out loud had fishhooks piercing his heart and dragging it up to his throat. Seeing each other like that had both men squeezing the other tightly, just breathing for a moment until Aizawa finally spoke.

           “That’s not going to happen. We saved her. We’ve taken care of her for weeks now, protected her from Dabi and anyone else who would try to hurt her. We’ve shown her the love she really deserves. She can’t say no.”

           Hizashi sighed and gave a nervous grin.

           “You’re right, you’re always right, babe,” he said with a shaky nod. “I mean, really she’s already our sweetheart. We’re just making it official tonight.”

           It was true, both men thought to themselves. You were already theirs, they just needed to tell you that. So later that night, when the three of were finally sitting down to dinner, Aizawa and Hizashi forgot their worries in their lovesick excitement.

           “So how was work today?” Aizawa asked as he scooped some more rice onto your plate.

           “Oh, it was fine, just average,” you said with a tired smile.

           “I still can’t believe that they made you work on Valentine’s Day,” Hizashi muttered.

           “Well,” you laughed, “it’s not exactly a national holiday. And it’s not like I have a Valentine anyway.” At that, Aizawa flashed a stern look at his lover, warning him not to correct you just yet.

           “You haven’t seen any sign of Dabi, have you?” Aizawa asked, noting the way your eyes dimmed at your question. Now, he understood that everything that had happened was traumatic for you, but really, you should be glad that they had gotten that villain out of your life for you.

           “No, thankfully not,” you answered. “I don’t know if he actually cares enough about me to risk it.”

           “Well,” Aizawa said, “I’m glad he’s not mixing you up in his shit. You deserve so much better than that.” Hizashi nodded in agreement, and your cheeks heated at their concern. Really, these past few weeks had been so emotionally exhausting, you didn’t think you could have gotten through it without the two of them. They had opened up their home to you, had made you feel safe. They practically doted on you, providing everything that you could ever possibly want or need. And now—now they were even letting you intrude on their Valentine’s Day date. You hadn’t wanted to force yourself into their celebration, but they had insisted. In all honesty, Aizawa and Hizashi were probably the best friends you ever had.

           “Speaking of that though, I was thinking it’s about time for me to go home.”

           For a moment, Hizashi and Aizawa could only stare at you with disbelieving eyes.

           “What?” Hizashi finally responded with pure shock. “Why?”

           “It’s just that, well, it’s been weeks now. I haven’t seen the slightest sign of Dabi, and neither have either of you. I don’t think he’s going to try to contact me. And anyway, I feel bad about intruding into your home.”

           “You are not intruding!” Hizashi insisted as Aizawa took his hand.

           “Besides,” Aizawa added. “Dabi might just be waiting for you to leave.”

           “But—”

           “And we’d miss you!” Hizashi shouted over you.

           “I’d miss you guys too, but it’s not like we can’t see each other,” you reasoned. “We’d still be friends, right?”

           When you said that word—friend—Aizawa and Hizashi simultaneously squeezed each other’s hands tightly enough to make them go numb. Flashing a quick look towards each other, they made a silent lovers’ agreement.

           “But that’s the thing, sweetheart,” Aizawa started to say. “We don’t want to be your friends.”

           “What?”

           “We don’t want to be your friends,” Hizashi continued. “We want to be more than that with you. We love you.”

           Now it was your turn to be silent as their confession looped around and around in your mind. But with the two of them gazing at you so hopefully, it wasn’t long before you forced yourself to speak.

           “I—I’m sorry,” you began softly. “But I just can’t feel that way about anybody right now. What happened with Dabi, it—it really got to me, you saw how much it hurt me.”

           “We would never hurt you though,” Aizawa told you.

           “But I’m just not ready to be that vulnerable yet.”

           “Sure you are,” Aizawa said. “You have two men here who love you, who love you more than anyone else ever has. That’s all you need to be ready.”

           “I decide when I’m ready.”

           “Songbird, you’re just confused,” Hizashi said as Aizawa quietly slipped into the kitchen. “We know that this is a lot to take in, but taking this next step together is what’s right for all of us. We need to love you, and you need to let us.”

           “You’re not—”

           “Shouta and I can take care of you, we want to take care of you! You’ll never have to worry about anything again with us: not work, not bills, not villains, not anything! You would finally have the love that you deserve.”

           “I already said no,” you told as you began to stand from your chair. “I’m not going to say it again.”

           “And where are you going?” Aizawa suddenly asked from the dining room doorway.

           “I’m going to go back to my apartment and give you two a chance to cool down. Neither of you is making any sense.”

           “Really? Because you’re the one rejecting your soulmates.”

           “The two of you are not my soulmates.”

           “Of course we are,” Hizashi argued, tears beginning to fill his eyes at your stubbornness. When Aizawa spotted his boyfriend’s tears he frowned, extracting a syringe from his pocket and started to move towards you slowly and cautiously, the way one might with a spooked animal. As soon as you saw what he held in his hand, you tried to run for the door, only for Hizashi to immediately capture you in his arms. You writhed in his grip while Aizawa continued to approach you, and Hizashi nuzzled you comfortingly.

           “It’s alright, sweetheart,” Aizawa reassured you. “You’re just tired, you’re exhausted from work so you aren’t in your right mind.”

           “I told you that job was bad for you,” Hizashi grumbled into your neck.

           “Let me go!” you yelled. “Let me go or I swear—”

           “Ah, ah, songbird,” Hizashi lectured you as he held his hand over your mouth. “That’s no way to treat your lovers.”

           “Exactly,” Aizawa agreed. “So you’re going to have a little rest, and then hopefully in the morning you’ll realize just how foolishly you’ve been acting.”

           With that, Aizawa plunged the needle into your skin, both he and Hizashi ignoring your muffled pleas. The effects didn’t hit immediately, but soon enough you were melting into your captors’ arms, their touch the last thing you felt.

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