She Is Like The Ultimate Waifu!! I 💚 You Sadi Chan

Please give me more. That was Soo juicy 💦💦💦

His Perfect Match

Pairing: Namor x Plus Size!Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW! SMUT! Breeding kink.

Author's notes: Absolutely love this idea (as a plus size woman myself) Thank you dear anon!

Yucatec Mayan language translation: Yakunaj = Darling

Namor had longed for an heir to his throne for centuries but never found a woman he deemed suitable to carry his child. Until he saw you on the beach in your black bikini revealing every delicious curve on your beautiful body. He often came here, hiding from the public eye, in search of a mate. His gaze was immediately drawn to your round hips, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself between your soft thighs. And when you turned your head around and laughed at a joke your friend made, he was lost. Your smile was brighter than the sun, taking the very breath from him. At that moment, he knew you would be the mother to his children.

*

You didn’t know how you ended up at the beach that night. Perhaps it was the mysterious melody in your head that draw you there? It was gone now and you looked around with a frown. The beach was so different at night, so empty and bare. Why were you here? You looked down, not remembering putting on the summer dress you were wearing. What the hell was going on?

Then you saw a man ascending from the water and the melody hummed in your head again. You stared transfixed at the man, your gaze following the drops o water dripping down his well-sculpted chest. You lifted your head, hypnotized by the song and his beautiful, brown eyes as he cupped your face with his hands and kissed you.

You melted away, all your resistance gone as his soft, wet lips made your knees weak. From that moment, you belonged to him in every sense of the way.

~ Two years later ~

"I will fill you up with my cum so many times you’ll be dripping for days and my child is growing inside your belly," Namor growled and started thrusting into you deeply at a hard, relentless pace, snapping his hips into you over and over.

"Oh, f-fffffuuuuck...," you moaned in a breathy gasp, your nails digging into his arms as he pounded your pussy roughly. "Come inside me, please. I wanna feel you swell inside me, feel your cum fill me up so good."

" Fuck," Namor croaked, his hips stuttering with wild jerks, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, creating waves of pleasure searing through your core at every thrust. "You feel so good, Yakunaj. Gonna fill your tight pussy up nice and good."

Oh fuck...Feeling the force of an overwhelming orgasm approaching, you tilted your head back, your lips slightly parted as you closed your eyes and surrendered to the sensations flowing through your body.

Namor looked down at the pleasured expression on your face as he thrust into you, felt the tightening of your walls, and knew you were close. Straightening up on his knees, he grabbed your round hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he thrust even deeper inside you, sure to leave marks there for days.

You gasped when Namor changed his position, your moans getting louder and louder as his thrusts grew harder and deeper. You didn't care if anyone saw or heard you, all you cared about was the pleasure scorching through your body and giving him the child he so desperately wanted. His fingers dug into your hips almost painfully, but you loved it. Loved that his marks would be imprinted on you, making you his.

"Fuck, y/n, you're so beautiful," Namor rasped, his widened, lust-filled eyes watching your tits bounce with every thrust, imagining them full of milk and your belly big and round with his child. The image made him lose the little control he had left. Groaning, he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh and lifted your hips higher as he thrust faster until he pumped into you a final time, emptying his full load inside you. Throwing his head back, he growled as his hips bucked erratically, pumping every drop of seed he had to offer deep inside your belly.

Your moans filled the air as he came inside you, his swelling cock pushing you over the edge of climax. Lifting your hips closer to him, you cried out with pleasure as you clenched around him, your pussy milking his cock like a vice.

Namor looked down at his cock still buried in your pussy, watched with heaving chest as he twitched inside you, filling you up with every last drop until you were full, and it began to drizzle out around his cock.

"You look so pretty like this, y/n. All sprawled out with my cum dripping from your pussy."

You smiled tiredly up at him, watching his proud face through heavy eyelids. You loved him so much it was ridiculous, even though this was only the third time you met him in two years. Why he only came to visit you once a year you didn't know, wished he would come every month when your body was ready to bare his child.

"Are you ready for another load, Yakunaj?"

Your eyes widened when you felt his cock grow hard inside you again and Namor smirked down at you. You were not sure how many times he'd made you come already, your mind hazy and only focused on the way his thick cock made you feel nice and full. All you could do was bite your lip and nod. Namor's brown eyes darkened with lust, his grip on your hips tightening as he started moving inside you again at a slow and steady pace.

You whimpered as he started thrusting again, his cock sliding easily in and out of your sore, cum-filled pussy. Namor made you come again and again until you were nothing but a drooling mess on the sand. Namor looked proudly down at his cum dripping out of your cunt, confident that this time his child would be growing inside your belly.

Author's notes: Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @noodlecupcakes @missmendelsohn @skvatnavle @lucy-sky @alexxavicry

Hmmm maybe midnight drives with Kirishima??

aaaAAAA YES!<3

~late night drives wif kiri:)~

I feel like Kiri would see that tonight was one of those nights you felt super energized, basically bouncing off the walls with nothing to do, and he would smile and grab his keys.

If you’re not allowed out with him, Kiri will help you crawl out your window and immediately carry you to his car. (doesn’t matter your size, beefy Kiri is here:>)

Late night drives with Kiri are like the late night snack runs as well, except you sit in random parking lots and make some random drink out of candy and sodas. (battery acid)

You would turn your music up all the way, scream the lyrics and laugh when your throat gets hoarse. That’s not the only reason your throat is hoarse for that night;)

After all those cute moments with the music and everything, you would crawl over to Kiri’s lap, (doesn’t matter your size, Kiri carries all!<3) and give him kisses along his jawline.

“Thought we were going to be peaceful tonight, pretty girl?” But when you look up at him with those pretty eyes, who is he to deny?

So he orders you in the backseat, and the rest is history<3

Sex Text posts I found on fb that are undoubtedly Y/n talking about our boys😙😙

The tweet that started it all:

S. Todoroki:

E. Kirishima:

K. Bakugou:

I. Midoriya:

Reblog Nd add more if you want lol

Reblog if you actually give a shit about anyone who's suicidal or depressed.

no one should scroll past this

I'm screaming!!!!😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥂🍾 I need priest nanami in my life!!!

SUNDAY’S BEST

Ft. NANAMI KENTO

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━PAIRINGS: Preacher Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━CW: barely any religious mentions, established marriage, dub-con, somnophila, oral(f. receiving), cum eating, fingering, (f)masturbation, car sex, mating press, heavy breeding kink, public(ish) sex, creampie

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━WORD COUNT: 3.5k

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━FROM CHRIS: I mean…it’s nasty. But believe it or not, i rlly love Nanami :3

A preacher’s child.

They say the life of one is filled with the hardest expectations to fill. Constantly being judged, constantly under watch, and constantly forced to hide their true selves. The unrealistic standards shroud their thoughts and the forced reputation of the family name and honor hinders their every move.

Secrets become the only choice and the dark side of their lives becomes a relief. Their days are filled with nothing but being the “good kid” and the “best role model for all” who pass through the holy doors every Sunday morning.

But…does anyone ever wonder about the preacher’s wife? 

The one who shines above all just for ditching her maiden name for one doused in holy virtue. The one who has no choice but to have a warm and welcoming heart for everyone scattered about the church. The traits of kind and gentle are immediately attached to her name, assuming the same temperate position as the preacher. 

She’s never found too far from her husband either, usually residing at the very front of the pews, hands politely folded atop the plush curve of her tightly pursed thigh. She could be found there every Sunday, even Wednesdays if a bible study was called for. The kind, gentle woman who supports her husband with the occasional glimmering smiles of white and endearing head nods of reassurance. 

All while trying extra hard to keep those pesky rivulets of white seeping through her panties from wandering onto the sacred scene. 

It’s a reality some could never dream of, but one you couldn’t have thought would be shown to you by the town’s very own beloved Nanami Kento. 

Righteous in front of others but salacious when with you—just the traits picked up by his youth. He was once known as the preacher’s kid, quiet and reserved with only a collection of words to say. He only ever did speak when spoken to, could recite ten verses with ease, and was honored as the perfect child. 

Since your younger days as well, you pondered all too aimlessly about Nanami. He was never found with a genuine smile or tone, never was found playing after service with the other children, or even strolling around the neighborhoods with a friend or two.

Pity stained your tongue unwantingly, the urge to help him being repressed by other thoughts. All you could’ve done was pray that he’d be freed of what troublesome chains held onto him, that one day life would hold no limits for him in the days to come. 

Though, such prayers could have never prepared you for today’s realities, Nanami now pursuing priesthood with you as his bride. 

Since taking on the role of wife and finally entering the daily life of Nanami Kento, there were a couple of things to make note of. 

One: he was nothing of what his former timid character made him out to be, now becoming more vocal with his wants and needs. 

Two: as much as he enjoyed a set order and routine, Nanami welcomed life’s spontaneous moments all the same. 

And lastly: his stamina was one for the books.

It’s a blessing to him honestly, being rewarded with a beautiful woman like yourself. Truth be told, he’s had his eye on you since your shared days of youth. If not for the buried confidence and the shielding of negative thoughts, he would have never taken the first step to pursue a relationship with you.

But it was only with you that Nanami found himself reaching deep within to discover who he truly was. 

A man forever indicted in carnal lust.

He knew it from the first date and withdrew from it until your wedding night, wanting to tear and replace every bit of clothing from your body with his own warmth. There wasn’t a night he remembered where he didn’t wish to indulge in you, sending the thick crown of his cock to kiss at your cervix.

There wasn’t a night where Nanami didn’t want to fill your ears with nothing but the sound of him and him only, spilling the slurred speech of how well your pussy could take him. He was driven near mad in all honesty. Restraint was the only thing, wanting to holdfast onto what morals remained. 

Yet, marriage only seemed to bring all this rush of desire and more to light, Nanami now harboring the urge to fill your cunt with the white-hot pools of his cum. It was a rush that he wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. Just to feel how his tummy would tense, skin running hot with a licking heat, and his mind thrown into complete turmoil—all to hear you squeal at the addictive sensation was all he needed. 

But there came a condition with his sudden obsession; he would only do so on a Sunday—both before and after service. He couldn’t tell you why but he swore it was only on Sundays that he felt heavier, neediest, and too pent up for words.

So, on the days that Sunday did roll around, he’d wake up a whole hour before you did, his eyes cracking at six o’clock sharp. He’ll lay there for a few minutes, heavy lids perched on the sight of you—his sleeping beauty laying without the duvet’s restriction to his eye.

He breathed it all in, from the small pout consuming your lips, the silky cream night slip dress rising with your flooding chest, down to the precious moans mindlessly leaving from you. He often found himself, sneaking a hand behind his briefs to lace around the thick girth of his shaft. A subtle squeeze led to a groan of deliverance he couldn’t afford. 

He picked himself up from beside you, carefully slotting his body between what space was offered by your thighs. The mattress only caved to his body’s contours, sinking especially deep around his perched forearms. His hands cup at your inner thigh, the pulsing pry granting him more room for comfort. 

Nanami knows just how much you look forward to Sundays too, your excitement leading you to take the proactive route. That fact alone is why Nanami’s greeted by the sight of your bare cunt, the pads of his fingers gravitating to the puffy lips. The initial skim of his touch is nothing short of gentle and lingering, minding that he doesn’t slip any further. 

It’s when Nanami’s fingers finally pull apart the lips of your cunt that he falters, allowing a shushed “fuck” to fall from his lips. Even beneath the sun’s latent rays of light, he can see all he needs too—the soft curves of your folds sticky and ridden in slick, the dormant hood of your clit throbbing with the heat of greed.

There’s nothing that really comes to mind when Nanami’s like this, biting back the urge to smother your pussy in his ministrations. But he wants to tease you, bring you to a point just to take it all back. His thumb retires from rest, softly swiping at your clit for his own self-amusement. 

There’s something in it for him, more than his pleasure and more than your orgasm. What Nanami really loved about your pussy was the response, being able to visually watch every single one of his actions settle into your core. Everything he does comes back to him, either in a twitch, a fluttering gasp, or even the uncontrollable spasms of a squirt. 

But for today, all Nanami sought after was for the cute bulb of nerves to kiss at his tongue with a prickling streak of pleasure. He was too quick to remove his essence sullied thumb from you, eyes hinged onto the thinning trail connecting you both. His tongue hurried to replace the fading warmth by pressing against your folds, the delicate sheets parting around him.

What pulls the breathless moan from his chest is you, the rivulets of your taste drizzled all over his tongue. He still can’t believe that a few lazy swirls from his thumb could stir you up like this, enough to get you this wet but still casted away by sleep’s hand.

Either way, a complaint couldn’t have fallen from his lips. Instead, Nanami had a tranquil notion in his mind to take control, his eyes coming to a fluttering shut. It’s why his tongue can drag up to your clit ever so slowly, just to drag down to your slit swiftly.

When he does return to the glimmering bud, it’s nothing but careful nudges. He can feel it too, how your clit begins to harden against him, how the blood all falls to meet his touch. It’s the hot pulses that turn Nanami on all the more, almost as if you’re begging for a break. 

And maybe if he wasn’t so far gone, he’d give you that well-deserved break. Yet, he shines a grin fit for the devil at how generously swollen the tender pearl’s become. It’s a sign of just how close you are and who was he to deny you of any pleasure?

His lips come to a close just above your pussy, sealing off your clit within. Cheeks are hollowed and Nanami can’t control anything else from that point on—not that he really wanted to. It’s out of the kindness of his heart that Nanami’s thumb drifts between your folds once more, grazing along the gummy sheets to soothe over the incoming high. 

Unfortunately, poor Nanami’s so invested in you that he doesn’t notice your hand landing on his head, lithe fingers grappling through the bed of untamed blonde. He doesn’t even notice your hips shuddering from him, trying to pull back from the onslaughts of his worked jaw.

It’s not until Nanami finally decides to greet you that he notices how soaked the bed is underneath you or how his chin faces the same fate. All he does is bring his lips to ghost over the adorably perked hood, ending it all off with a kiss. 

“G’Morning, Sweetheart. Let’s get ready for service, yeah?”

That’s all he leaves you off on, a smug smile and some words before his feet hit the hardwood floor of your bedroom. It’s become normal to him but indescribable for you. As to how he can brush off his lustful whims in an instant fell nothing short of a mystery —considering how the proof laid right before your eyes. Even with disbelief written on your face and a chest desperate for air, you still cared to trudge behind Nanami to start your day.

The clock sits at seven-thirty by the time you and Nanami settle into the car. It’s almost like a clean slate had been taken upon by you both, dressed in the cleanest of attire. His once untamed blonde locks were replaced with his usual style, nothing a pull of a comb couldn’t fix.

A plain navy suit found itself onto Nanami’s body with not a wrinkle in sight. Yet as for you, Nanami really couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In your opinion, it was a lackluster black dress and paired heels that suited anyone at any time. In his opinion, it was everything he lived for. 

When Nanami turns his head to feed his excitement of you, he’s met with the sight he’ll never get over: you with closed eyes, biting down on your finger out of concern. Legs parted just slightly with a small hand tucked beneath your dress. The silent squelches tell Nanami all he needs to know—you were stretching yourself out just for him.  

He gawks at you for just another moment, turning his sights back onto the road in silence. It’s the awkwardness instilled in Nanami that gets him so flustered, a feeling he knows may never overcome.

You being the only other woman in his life weren’t much help either. There are still days when he’ll come to a loss of words, falling into a mindless ramble out of embarrassment. His composure’s lost to the stars and suddenly coherency is out of his reach.

For now, he braces himself for as long as he could, his hand gripping the steering wheel that much tighter until he arrives at the quaint lone-standing building known as the church. But he dare to not stare at the sacred home, his hungered eyes tracing something more interesting. 

A display of mindless behavior really, Nanami’s hand latching onto your wrist. He pulls your hand from between your thighs slowly, fetching the glistening digits to his lips. Of course, he’ll stare right at you as he’s busy cleaning up your mess, his tongue following the glossy strings laid about. It’s only when a simple question rolls from his mouth that you can comprehend his current state of mind. 

“I think we can squeeze a quickie in, what about you?”

You offer him a weak nod before climbing into the backseat, hands tugging at the dress to encircle your waist. Before you could even blink, Nanami’s hovering over you while fidgeting with his belt’s buckle. 

It’s in the heat of a moment like this that you don’t seem to recognize the man you married. You can’t help but form such opinions, asking yourself ridiculous questions without true answers.

Where was the docile boy that existed? Who would only speak when spoken to and stray from any behavior disapproved by his elders? 

Now here he was before you with anticipation heavy on the brain. He isn’t bothered enough to tug at his tie or to unbutton his shirt, opting to slip free from the navy jacket before resting on his haunches. His hands cup the underside of your knees, making it that much easier to press your thighs to your chest.

The pretty swell of your cunt’s lips catches Nanami’s eye, his fingers senselessly drifting against the cloth. He’s so specific to not tear your panties, hooking the soaked inseam to sit along your inner thigh. 

His hand finally slips past his pants to free his cock from the hellish confines, greeting your eye with a dangerous grip. Time was fond of Nanami, ensuring that each second was savored in bliss as he presses the head of his cock to your entrance, the pink crown ripe with the softest of twitches and the thickest of veins just begging for relief.

Elation springs to the forefront of Nanami’s brain, clouding him from the hold of sensibility. His hips almost move for themselves, driving forward in a drunken fury. First, it’s the tip that fills you, barely stretching you for what’s to come. Inch by inch, he’s patiently waiting for the moment where all you know, think, and feel is him.

He loves it truly, watching your eyes widen at the realization, your hands reaching to cover your lips riddled with spit. There’s a certain gasp that takes over your lungs that utterly spoils his ears. Call it a hint of pride, but when that gasp rings from your lips, Nanami can’t help but turn on his ego.

He knows just how deep he was and well he’d fuck that fact out of you, a lesson he swears you seem to forget. But it’s the recoil that drains Nanami for all he’s got, the suffocating clench of your walls pulling such a pretty mewl from his knitted lips. It’s his undoing, pulling from the beckoning thumps of your cervix to press restart on all he’s accomplished for the moment. 

And it’s so unforgiving, the cold etching along his shaft while the head of his cock sits snug with just the slightest peek of pink to meet his eye. His hands search for refuge at the back of your thighs, his nails sinking into the trembling flesh. That same cold is his so-called “excuse” for snapping his hips once more, burying himself in you all over again. 

What follows isn’t simply Nanami rutting himself to absolute filth, of course it isn’t. It’s the insatiable craving pitted at the depths of his tummy, aching for a solution. He’s caught in a blinding lust, unsure of what to chase but knows what the outcome will be. He’s addicted to it, sending his cock so deep inside you, hearing the clashes of skin, down to overseeing you lose all control. 

Sure, there’s a sadistic undertone beneath his amusement but it’s all if nothing but gratitude. He can feel how edged you are, the shivers ripping across your skin, the jolts of your hips when he’s grazing your clit with how close his pelvis was.

He loves watching you lose yourself in it…not to mention in him. Because of that lewd expression of unhinged gratitude is why Nanami can’t help to lean in closer, cutting off the moronic babbles with a kiss. 

Though, just when Nanami thinks he has the upper hand, you always manage the fruit of control right from his hand. The switch in power is so subtle but gradually becomes noticed. By the flutters of your walls, it’s no longer a want to fill you in Nanami’s mind—it’s a need.

That need, or any need really, drives any sane person insane. The urges can no longer be repressed and suddenly it’s itching at their skin, a spot so distant that nothing but the fulfillment of your desires can alieve.

Nanami’s breathing so much harder now to combat his rousing sensations, the head of his cock spry with fizzing nerves. He wants to stop, take a break and cool the rising heat within his body. But when your walls flutter around him again, the quiet and sealed-off mouth of his loses grip and the drivels of pleas fall from his lips all too easily.

But he can’t.

It’s the need that serves a new purpose in Nanami, closing what distance existed to send his cock that much deeper. He’s practically brimming with heat, the veins lining his shaft suffering beneath the exertion of greed. The fat of his cock rests so homely along your walls now that he’s comfortable with letting himself go, his head dropping within the crook of your neck.  He had to make sure every drop would stay, you did have a prayer service to endure, after all.

In his last words, that’s when the hints of dominance seep through. 

“Pretty lil’ pussy’s gonna take everything fr’ me, right?”

Your head unleashes a spool of unhinged nods, serving as enough reason for Nanami. The thick ribbons of white catch onto your womb, drowning you in his scent. It’s so much this time around too, more than the previous Sundays he’d taken to fill you.

The palms of your hands fall over your eyes, using all the latent energy to control the strength of your own orgasm. Your legs trembled from the weight of it alone, triggering tears to crowd at your lash line. Your efforts wouldn’t have been in vain, avoiding all of his hard work to dress his cock in a devastating shade more shameful than white. 

When he manages to catch a breath amidst it all, his eyes dart down to his watch for the time.

8:05 AM.

With mass starting at the sharp time of 8:45, Nanami couldn’t have allowed another minute to pass him by. Not if he wanted his darkest secret displayed for the passing church-goers to see. 

He regretfully drew back from you, tugging your panties back into place. Mentally, he cursed the reality he’d face in a few hours: all of his cum soaked into the cotton. It’d be impossible for you to hold everything, he knew that. Putting his trust in a fading hope, Nanami laid his hand upon you, fingertips drumming a soft rhythm at your lower tummy as he spoke

“Keep it safe for me, Honey. I don’t wanna see a single drop wasted.”

With Nanami’s help, you soon found yourself resting in your usual spot amongst the pews, the first row closest to his reach. Throughout the service, you kept your legs especially tight. You didn’t have to make any eye contact with Nanami to know that his eyes were pinned on you.

He only did ever see you in the crowd, cheering him on with a smile. The pit of his stomach floods with butterflies, fighting a giggle from erupting from his lips.   

After all, with his cum nuzzled oh-so deep inside you, why wouldn’t he?

The holy hour of service concluded just around ten, ending with Nanami and you greeting everyone at the door. The cheerful smiles displayed on your faces are only founded on a facade, the same antics of the morning carrying on. To the people’s eyes, Nanami casually has a hand resting along your lower back, keeping his wife close. 

But you knew what stood behind the act, his fingers slipping warily underneath. He’s playing with the hem of your panties this time, the pads of his digits slinking past the obstruction. He sighs at the results, wet, wet panties.

He brings his lips to your ear, the heat of his breath nipping at the shell. You latch onto his waist, bracing the timid man as his finger finds way to your slit. The explicit words roll off his sullied tongue too fragrantly, leaving you with a fearful reassurance. 

“Aww, I thought it would stay this time. Don’t worry…this time, I’ll keep that pussy extra full next time.”

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ TAGS: @gabzlovesu @nanaminshousewife @rinhoes @indiecursor @kazusugar @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @omniuravity @ebiharachan @the-great-himbo @aasouthteranoswife @dejwrites @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kenmasbimbo @kazubabe @jjjangsta @novaresque @mitsuyasfavorite @10-jiku @whore4mikey @missyasma @getoswhore @pixelsanji @earlesskitten @simpliheavenli @yooniluvbot444 @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @tojibreedingme @simpingforwakasa04 @tojidilfs @taesd-urag @sintiva @pulchritxde @bloobrryktty @holychocopie @tonaken @ladyackermann @ladyackerman @nekoriots @p-antomime @svlims @zorosbozo @kensgff @dabis0bitch @tirzamisu @simpforerenn @hon3ybee-3 @dukina

wanna join my taglist? click here:))

Oh my god. 🥵🥵🥵🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴💦

Ooh i’m so excited rn omg...what i need rn is more of aizawa and villian!soulmate reader. They just keep acting like a brat until aizawa takes them home and punishes them X3

Prelude - shoutout to y’all for being so patient with me! appreciate it so so much. Also, there was like one other ask that I wanted to include here but I couldn’t find it, so rip. Also, @bbygirlpastel ty for the “Villain? I’ll show you a villain.”

Pairing - Yandere Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - dub con, non con, NSFW, overstimulation, no actual penetration. Creepy Aizawa, vibrators, uhhh literally nothing good here. Dead dove man, if you look at a dead bird and KNOW it’ll taste disgusting and make you sick to your stomach.... DON’T FUCKIN EAT THE BIRD. listen to the warnings my dudes!!

Music -  https://open.spotify.com/track/6p8eEdiZLKJH8tcjGZuNTK?si=9r_2kgkoR56h9UkBCybxLw

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Maybe he wouldn’t be this infatuated, this utterly obsessed, this angry with you if you had just given in from the start.

You weren’t even a high-priority villain, just some desperate nighttime thug that preyed on innocent bystanders. Snatching wallets, causing a ruckus, stealing from thrift stores or gas stations a couple of times a week.  You were a nuisance, but not big enough to catch Aizawa’s attention - not until you stole a women’s watch right in front of him on the street while he was buying a snack from a food-cart before his shift started.

And yeah, Aizawa tried to keep a low profile, not flaunt his hero status in order to effectively capture and subdue villains, but surely you would’ve noticed the man clad in black, obviously sporting hero gear standing nearby. But you didn’t, and then he was grabbing your shoulder so he could drag you to the police station. Aizawa had been surprised when you wiggled out of his grip and took off, and damn, you were fast.

The game of cat-and-mouse had begun, and while the underground hero failed to catch you that night (and every subsequent night he saw you out on the streets) he was determined to do so. Well, maybe not /as/ determined. When it came to you, the man was easily distracted.

The clothes you wore were baggy, hid your form effectively. But if someone looked close enough, they could notice the curves of your body, especially as you ran, evading capture. Aizawa was loathe to admit at first, but it was tantalizing watching you flee from him.

He beat himself up over it. He’d always had a solid grasp of self-control, and usually he felt no attraction to his targets, even if they were wearing the skimpiest of outfits. One time he had turned in a villain wearing nothing but pasties over her breasts and panties (her quirk was seduction-based), and he hadn’t felt anything but utter boredom as he filled out paperwork at the police station while they found her some actual clothes.  It probably had something to do with the “soulmate” quirk he had been hit with once, but Aizawa had never really put much faith in it, nor thought about it extensively. He had always had a bit more self control than other men.

So for him to almost have feelings for some low-life idiot? It made his skin burn with irritation (and maybe something else, but he wasn’t ever going to address that). It didn’t make any sense. 

The fact that it didn’t make any sense did not stop his brain from plastering not-suitable-for-work thoughts about you whenever he ran upon you committing some minor crime. It was infuriating.

The satisfaction the man felt from finally pinning you down, taking advantage of a small stumble, tackling you down and pressing you into the cold concrete of the rooftop was probably unholy. It just felt so damn good, catching you, forcing you to submit, getting you underneath him. When he had flipped you onto your back, you wouldn’t look at him, just staring off to the side, almost as if you were ashamed.

You should be - stealing from anyone and everyone, being a brat, making Aizawa’s life difficult as you infiltrated every waking moment.

He had started to lecture you, starting out with his usual cool-headed, 

unbothered demeanor, but slowly getting more and more annoyed as you still refused to look at him. Pretending he wasn’t there, refusing to listen - Aizawa felt the urge to slap you, just to make you react.

He settled for harshly gripping your chin, forcibly turning your head so he could look at your eyes.  Eye contact was an important thing to Aizawa - it was the basis of his quirk, but he wasn’t prepared for the punch to the gut he felt when he looked into yours.

Words escaped him, mouth dropping open, his body frozen. There was - there was something going on. You took advantage of his pause, shoved the man off of you, took off running. Aizawa could do nothing but sit there, staring after your form with his own eyes wide and wondering. What had just happened?

He reflected on the moment for the entire rest of the night, musing over the strange feeling coiled in his stomach, the weird tug in his chest, his brain wanting and desiring and lusting and it was so distracting, he wanted it to stop, but at the same time, he wanted to indulge.

The realization finally hit him - the soulmate quirk he had been hit with, all those long years ago. 

Some lady had come up to him while he was shopping, smiling at him toothily before asking him wether he believed in soulmates. He had stared at her for a second, before blankly responding with a curt “no”, turning back to continue browsing the selection of applesauce packets. A hand on his wrist, a burning sensation from his arm to his heart, and then he was rounding on the woman, ready to drag her to the police station for using her quirk in public without a license. 

She had just cackled, citing something about soulmates and how he was going to believe now, he’d learn what it would feel like to find your true love when he looked into their eyes. Some sappy, romantic, crazy bullshit that he had ignored and promptly forgotten, before calling the police.

The lady had been deemed mentally ill, driven mad by the loss of her husband in a hero-based accident. Aizawa quickly forgot about the incident.

Aizawa didn’t believe in soulmates, and even if they existed, there was no way in hell that his soulmate would be a villain.

But apparently, the universe did not care about Aizawa’s opinions.

He tried to ignore it, turn a blind eye whenever he saw you sneaking around late at night, would turn and head the other way. But there was no denying the burning flame in his heart, the yearning to see you again, to talk to you, learn about you, what you liked, what you didn’t, where you had grown up, what your aspirations were. 

Aizawa hated it.

But he couldn’t ignore it.

The feelings grew and grew, festering in his body like an open wound, infecting his mind, crawling through his veins and slowly seeping into every aspect of his life, until all he could think about was you. The man needed it to stop.

The cat-and-mouse game was picked up again, except this time, Aizawa wasn’t going to give you any opportunities to get away.

You were able to sense the change, could see the rabid look in his eyes when he sought you out for the first time since the night you had slipped out of his grasp. There was something different, and it wasn’t good, it was dangerous.

You managed to dodge him for a time, and some part of Aizawa swelled with pride that his supposed “soulmate” was so clever. The other part of him wanted to break something.

He was almost frightened by the change in him, this volatile anger, the impatience and the lust. That wasn’t who he was, but ever since meeting you, looking into your eyes, it’s what he had become. Maybe if he tracked you down, got close to you, spent some time with you, this needy feeling would go away. You couldn’t run forever. 

Aizawa caught you during the daytime, when both of you were off-guard and not paying attention. It was luck, really, or maybe destiny or fate, that he had looked up to watch as passengers filtered onto the subway. You were wearing the same baggy clothes you always wore, hoodie over your head, earbuds in. 

There was a backpack slung over your shoulder, and Aizawa watched you sling it off to place it in your lap as you sat down before the doors closed. 

It was easy to follow you home, to the dingy little deathtrap you called your own, on the first floor of an abandoned, moldy motel building. It was even easier to follow you inside, through the broken window , his footsteps undetected through the blare of music in your earbuds.

It was less easy to subdue you, with the desperate fight you put up, trying to kick and punch and scream as soon as Aizawa’s thick arm circled around your throat. Still, the man had been subduing unruly villains for a while now, and it wasn’t hard for him to keep his hold on your smaller from, no matter how you thrashed in his arms. 

When you finally passed out from the lack of air in your lungs, Aizawa gently followed you down to the floor, staring at you for a moment (god you were pretty, how had he not noticed how pretty you were?) before looking around the room. 

It looked like a regular motel room, except there was no TV, there was signs of rot dotting the walls, and the air smelled decidedly unhealthy. He wrinkled his nose as he took it in - you would be much better living somewhere less unsavory. 

Which, Aizawa’s home was perfectly capable of hosting an unwilling guest. Aizawa wasn’t naive enough to think you’d be happy waking up in an unfamiliar room, but he figures it would be better than jail. Like hell was he going to hand you off to the police, not when the ache in his chest was subsiding in your presence, the burning need for something lowering to a slow simmer. Justice be damned, Aizawa was going to be the judge, jury, and executioner in this particular case, and he had yet to decide your fate.

----

“You are insufferable - if you would just give in, everything would feel so much better. Holding out like this is illogical.”

He was tired. Tired of your stubbornness, tired of your refusals, tired of your insults, tired of the way his skin itched and blood boiled every time you spat at him or knocked over the plate of food he brought to you. 

When he was met with silence, Aizawa sighed. This was getting old. It had been a month since he’d brought you under his roof, a month of holding back, a month of playing nice, a month of letting you “adjust”. But you hadn’t adjusted, hadn’t even tried, and he was tired.

“You’re only hurting yourself by acting like this.“

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to act like this if you hadn’t kidnapped me.” You spat, glaring daggers at the man.

Aizawa paused, almost humored by your spiteful response. “You would rather I have turned you over to the police? The prison system isn’t kind to pretty little things like you. No matter how tough you pretend to be, you’d be broken in less than a week.”

You scoffed, pulling at the chain that held your ankle to the wall. “As if this is somehow better. You’re a sick man, I hope you choke on your next meal and /die/.”

Aizawa gestured to the room, his patience wearing thin. “I could make it worse.” 

And he could. He could take away the thin mattress you were sitting on, shorten your chain so you couldn’t reach the bare-bones bathroom, he could stop feeding you, or make you eat scraps like a dog. Of course, he could make it much better too, but only if you’d stop fighting him at every turn.

“I don’t even know what you want. You’re just an old pervert, you’re no hero. You claim to be good and just, but you’re no better than the villains you put behind bars.”

Within a second, Aizawa was crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, yanking you forward until you could feel his heated breath across your face, could see the tension in his eyes.

“I want you to behave.”  He ground out. “I’ve treated you with nothing but civility so far, but if you’re so determined to see me as nothing but a villain, then fine, I’ll show you a villain.”

Aizawa was at the end of his rope. It was uncharacteristic for him to exhibit such anger, such impulses and wild feelings, but when it came to you, Aizawa felt like he was an entirely different person, ruled solely by his instincts. 

With a push, you were sprawled onto your back on the mattress, quickly trying to scramble upright, ready for an attack. But Aizawa just watched, letting you panic before you realized he was going to stay put.  Well, stay put for a time.

 There were some things he needed to go get, to show you how good he had been to you, to prove that he had been nice and accommodating. But if you wanted to play dirty, then Aizawa could play dirty.

He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes locked onto your face. You were such a shy thing, barely able to hold eye-contact, always blushing and stammering and fighting when he made you look at him. It wasn’t his fault that your eyes were enchanting, drawing him in like a spell. If he could, Aizawa wouldn’t mind spending a few hours just watching you, watching your eyes take in the world. Of course, that was an illogical desire, but the man found he was having a lot of those these days.

You huffed as you felt him watching you. “You’re a creep.” The man didn’t answer, and you deflated, voice coming out small “Please…. let me go. I won’t like, steal stuff anymore, alright? Just let me go.”

Aizawa could bet that you were scared - after all, you were nothing more than a common crook. It’s probably the first time you’ve ever been held hostage, the first time you’ve been immobilized. You were probably used to intimidation, maybe even abuse - someone living in a rotted, abandoned motel and living off of what they could steal each day probably didn’t have a good story to tell about what had happened to them. 

Either way, Aizawa didn’t really care.  If it wasn’t for the tearing sensation in his chest when he was away from you for too long, he’d definitely have handed you over to the police by now. It was driving him insane, how he couldn’t focus, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think, couldn’t live now that his mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of you.

When he went out at night, he worried that you would hurt yourself, or escape - get away from him somehow. When he was at home, trying to do the “right” thing and give you space, not touch you, not invade your space, he was bombarded with the single-minded desire of holding you, feeling the warmth of your body against his chest.

It had to stop. He didn’t know how to make it stop. 

Aizawa had tried everything, from leaving you alone, to spending time watching you from the other side of the room - the man had even tried to erase the supposed “soulmate” quirk he was infected with by using his own quirk in the bathroom, staring into the mirror. Nothing seemed to help.

He had tried to be nice, he had tried to be good. But there was still the tugging in his chest, the itch he couldn’t scratch when it came to you. He wanted to do so much, but he wasn’t a villain, he wouldn’t force you.

But there lay the problem.

Aizawa wanted to.

He closed the door behind him as he left your room, the “torture chamber” he had said once, deadpanned tiredly in an attempt at a joke. You hadn’t laughed. 

The man supposed that this last month had really just been him warring against the dark, whispering corner of his mind that urged him to just take. To do what he wanted, to lay waste, to ravage you in every carnal way he so desired. To force you to lay by his side at night, force you to give him long, loving kisses, force you into domesticity.

Aizawa knew it was wrong. He had tried to ignore that part of him, push it down, focus on the logical solutions he could think of, the ones that kept his actions pure and heroic. But at this point, with you resisting so strongly? How you called him a villain, a pervert, a creep? Why not let the villain inside take a moment in the spotlight.

That’s what he was thinking as he gathered items into his arms from his room, spending hardly any time picking out what he wanted and needed. He’d had so many dreams, so many thoughts of what he would do to you once you finally submit to him. The man had plenty of ideas, especially now that he was deciding to throw his inhibitions out the window. 

The fact that you most likely weren’t going to be willing merely meant that Aizawa added a spreader bar and an extra set of cuffs to the growing pile in his arms. 

Stepping back into your room was almost thrilling, seeing your eyes snap up, to the bundle of items he held, then at his face. They were so wide, scared, panicked. It was a good look on you honestly, one that Aizawa didn’t mind seeing more often. He was done being the nice guy.

“This is entirely your fault, you know that (Y/N)?” He mused as he strode forward, crouching to set down a towel on the ground, slowly laying each item down onto it. Might as well build up your fear and anticipation.

“If you hadn’t provoked me so, I would’ve been able to be continue holding myself back.” He could hear your breathing pick up as each item was set down, had to fight down a mocking smirk. “You had to be a brat though, egg me on like that. Well, if it’s not apparent by now, you’re probably going to regret that.”

“Please, please, oh god, this-you don’t need to-you-there’s-“

“Didn’t you just accuse me of being a villain? I’m just trying to live up to your expectations here, isn’t that what you want?”

Aizawa finished emptying his arms, then headed towards you, holding the extra pair of cuffs in his hand. He caught your eyes, watching you beg, try to push yourself back into the wall, away from him. There was no doubt that you were terrified, practically having a panic attack as you hyperventilated, eyes darting between Aizawa, the cuffs in his hands, the items on the towel behind him. 

It was easy for Aizawa to grab ahold of your already-bound wrists, pulling them down to the ground, right above the top of the mattress. Quickly, one cuff was attached to your wrist, the other cuff slipped through a small, recessed metal ring in the ground. 

After you had…. “moved in”, Aizawa had done some renovations. The angle he had you trapped at now kept your arms stretched above your head, immobile and unable to move more than an inch in any direction. It’d be uncomfortable if you were left like that for too long, but Aizawa was still planning on being somewhat merciful today. 

You were still babbling quietly, pleading with the man. “You don’t need to do this, please, please please please please-!” You sobbed out the last “please”, trying to wrench your arms free.  Of course it was useless, and you were doing nothing but tiring yourself out, but Aizawa didn’t mind.

It was easy to attach the spreader bar to each ankle, despite the way you cried and kicked, ankles slipping out of his grasp a couple times before he could finally pin them down. Aizawa felt eerily calm, patient, but at the same time seething, excited, almost foaming at the mouth for what he knew was to come.

“Struggling won’t achieve anything, but feel free to do so.” He encouraged, shuffling backwards on his knees to look at you, stretched out body on display.

You were still wearing clothes, a thin t-shirt, a pair of loose basketball shorts - all Aizawa’s.  He had immediately told you to leave your old clothes outside the bathroom door when you showered the second day after he had captured you.

 You had resisted at first, but quickly relented when the man raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders before advancing towards you menacingly. You had gotten the message loud and clear, immediately backing down, agreeing to wear the clothes you were given.

Aizawa retreated to the towel, swiping a pair of scissors off of it. Brandishing them, he snipped them twice in warning. “You might want to be still for this part. I don’t actually want to cut you, so if it happens, it’ll be your fault.”

And then he bent over, carefully snipping the clothes off of your rigid body. 

As soon as the last shred of fabric fell away, you breathed in air, immediately letting out a loud, tearful wail. Aizawa felt a twinge of regret, but the quickly-growing bulge in his pants currently outweighed any other feelings he might be having.

Putting the scissors safely out of reach, the man let himself rest back on his heels, surveying your body the way one surveys their food before taking a bite. And oh, was he going to eat you up.

You were writhing, tears falling from yours eyes, still babbling out nonsense as you begged for him to stop, to reconsider, to think about what he was doing. 

“I’ve thought about this plenty. It’s called fantasizing.” He murmured, before gently resting his hand against your naked hip. 

You spooked like a wild horse, thrashing the second his hand made contact, crying and wailing, shying away from his touch.

Aizawa was glad he had the foresight to bring a gag.

You were so worked up, you didn’t even notice him grabbing it, didn’t register his hand clamping around your jaw, wrenching it open and shoving the ball gag past your teeth. You quickly fought against that too, outright screaming, trying to shake your head, pull away from the hands fastening the strap around your head. But Aizawa was quick, and good with his hands, and your screams became muffled, nothing more than desperate background noise to the defiling of your body.

Resuming his exploration, Aizawa cradled your head in both hands, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “If you relax, it won’t be as stressful for either of us.”

With another muffled scream, you turned your head, tear-filled eyes glaring at the wall. 

“Or you can be a brat.” Aizawa laughed, a sound he wasn’t used to making. “Either way, it’s not gonna change what’s happening.”

Returning to the towel, Aizawa picked up the next couple of items, turning back to see you watching him through teary eyes. He presented the items in his hands, showing them to you. If you were curious, might as well let you see how he was planning to take you apart.

The second your eyes fell onto the lube, the bullet vibrator, the skin-safe tape, you wailed again, closing your eyes in horror, shaking your head. Aizawa breathed out his nose, humored at your terrified reaction. Not so tough when you were tied up, at the mercy of a man, were you?

Your legs were already held apart by the spreader bar, and no matter how you squirmed when Aizawa kneeled next to your hip, you couldn’t close your legs. When Aizawa’s warm hand ghosted over your stomach, you cried behind the gag, and when his hand made contact with your soft pink folds, you absolutely bawled, the sound loud and pitiful even as muffled as they were.

Aizawa wanted to tease, to feel all around, rub against your labia, tickle your clit, skirt around your opening. He let himself indulge a little, before pulling back, squirting out a dollop of lube onto his fingers. When the cold wetness touched you, there was barely any reaction, the way you were already panicking essentially making you loose all feeling.

That was alright, Aizawa knew that would change soon.

He let his hand wander around your entrance, massaging the lube into your skin, taking special care of your clit, your inner labia, the puffy folds. The man got lost in the sensation of your warmth underneath his fingertips, eyes slowly falling shut, a low hum coming from his throat in a natural attempt to soothe you. 

The man didn’t know how long he stayed like that, gently massaging wetness onto your skin, humming, but by the time he opened his eyes, your weeping had essentially subsided. You were making cute little sniffling sounds, trying to calm yourself, your own eyes closed, limbs almost relaxed, as if you’d accepted your fate.

When Aizawa took his hand away to reach for the bullet vibe, you barely moved. When he pulled back the lips of your labia, nestling the small, ovular vibrator against your clit, you only flinched. He pinched your labia lips almost painfully, hiding the vibrator underneath them as he pushed it hard onto your clit, before taping thick strips over your skin. When he was done, the vibrator was firmly in place, immovable, covered almost completely by your labia, which in turn was held over the vibe with the skin safe tape. 

The vibe was turned on, and Aizawa swore that your back arched so fast and hard he heard it pop. You writhed on the thin mattress, pulling at the chains binding your hands to the floor, trying to turn onto your side, bucking your hips, jerking and twisting this way and that at the overwhelming sensation. Aizawa had never used the bullet vibe on himself, but he’d felt the strength of the vibrations against his hand as he decided on a setting for you, feeling the tingly sensations through your skin through the tape, before kicking it up a few notches. 

You were screaming behind the gag - Aizawa guessed you weren’t used to toys, but he felt no remorse. He put a strong hand on your hip, holding you flush to the mattress as your hips moved about wildly.

“This is what a villain would do. They’d tie you up, assault you…. Tear you down and exhaust you until you turn into a broken little cockslut. Aren’t I so much nicer? At least I plan on taking care of you after. Plus, I’ll still lo-“

He cut himself off, grimacing at the words that had almost slipped out. Aizawa wasn’t ready to admit that to himself just yet. He wanted to hold onto the allusion that he could resist you, that he didn’t need you, that you weren’t unequivocally important to him

Not like you were listening.

With a sigh, Aizawa sat back, content to watch you writhe as you wiggled your hips, the movement making your breasts jiggle slightly. Aizawa groaned internally, his erection straining, throbbing inside his pants.

“You’re so beautiful, your body is…. Indescribable really.” The man mumbled, eyes trained on your form. A sheen of sweat was covering your skin, making you shimmer, making you slick. Aizawa’s hands itched as he looked at you, wanting desperately to wrap around your waist, to hold you close as he rut against you. But he wanted to prove a point. He wanted to show you that he could be nice, that he had been treating you good, that you shouldn’t be a childish brat and shout insults at him every day.

But god, was it hard to just sit back and watch you.

He unzipped his pants, reaching past the waistband of both pants and boxers, hissing as he took his erection in hand. He was wet, leaking precum, but did he expect anything else? You were laid out in front of him like a feast, delicious.

You were so overwhelmed by the vibrator strapped to your pussy, you didn’t even notice Aizawa beginning to jerk himself off. It’s probably better that way, he figures - if you realized what he was doing, you’d probably have a fit. Your cries faded into tearful whimpers, long whines, which then morphed into guilty moans, enjoyment that you couldn’t hide. When you came the first time, Aizawa was watching your body, stroking his cock in time to the way your hips jumped against the vibe. 

When you came the second time, hair a mess, Aizawa moaned your name a little, his own cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire as he squished his thumb against the tip of his cock.

The third time you came, screaming out muffled nonsense, Aizawa couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned forward, quickly undoing your gag, having to let go of his cock to work on the straps. When the plastic ball was free from your mouth, drool slicked over your chin, gulping breaths being taken, Aizawa surged forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he kissed you hungrily. 

You whined into his mouth, naked chest pressed against his shirt, crying in overstimulation as the vibrations between your legs didn’t give up.

“Mhm, you taste-“ The man had broken away from your mouth, only to dive back in again for a quick taste before speaking again. “-so damn good.”

“Aizawa-Aiz-aah! Aah!” You keened, a fourth orgasm washing over you, leaving your nerves tingling, buzzy. 

“That’s right, that’s who’s making you feel so good. You feel good, don’t you?” He pressed, crowding closer to you. He was in the process of pushing down his pants, his boxers, kicking them off.

“No, no no no, can’t-can’t-it hurts! Mmmfh-!” You moaned, back arching again.

“Don’t lie. Listen to yourself, you sound like a whore.” Aizawa chuckled breathlessly, turning you slightly onto your side. He was feeling hot, flushed, feverish. He wanted to do so many things - fuck you stupid, cuddle you close, give you warm hugs and kiss your pussy until you ground against his face.

“No I…. I don’t!” You yelped, the way he was positioning you pushing the vibrator into a different position. “Aiz-mmmm, Aizawa! Please-oh god, oh god-oh, please, st-OP!”

A kiss shut you up, Aizawa licking inside your mouth, feeling your saliva smear against his stubbled chin, felt you fighting against your bindings again. Where did you get all the energy? 

He didn’t break the kiss to look down, to take himself in hand and guide his cock into the tight plushness of your thighs, right up against your dripping, messy cunt.

When he pushed forward, his mouth fell open. There was so much /pleasure/, he felt dumb, thick-headed and cotton-mouthed. You were so warm, so wet, and the vibrator was still buzzing away happily,  pulsating through his cock as it rested against your pussy. 

He wanted to cum, right then and there. 

Feeling his thick cock pressing between your thighs, you wrenched yourself away from the kiss, whimpering as he pressed his cock up to chase the buzzing sensation, increasing the pressure of the vibe against your skin.

“Wait, ah, wait! Please, no more-mhmm! I’ll-I’ll be gO-od!” You whined, hips bucking again as the feeling built up again. 

Aizawa thumbed at the wetness covering your face, trying to wipe away the tears, but simultaneously forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, I won’t look, there’s no need-fuck-no need to be embarrassed sweetheart.” 

He reassured, knowing you were close to humming again. This time, he didn’t want you to have to finish alone.

With another gentle caress to your cheek, Aizawa grabbed your hips, before smoothly sliding his cock through your thighs, fucking right against your pussy. It felt incredible, better than anything else he’d ever experienced in his sex life - hell, in his entire existence.

Aizawa tried to hold himself back from humping against you, pumping his hips wildly, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when he was so worked up, not when you were moaning and gasping in his arms, shaking towards another orgasm.

“That’s it, almost there, just a little longer.” He reassured, voice strained and almost cracking in pitch as he neared his end.

“I can’t, I can’t, don’t make me! Don’t-aaah! No, no, plea-SE!” 

Your muscles tensed, Aizawa could feel it, your body pressed so tightly against his own. Then you were gone, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent gasp, brows furrowed as you were forced into cumming again.

It made Aizawa burst, feeling your thighs tense around his cock, your cunt convulsing, body trembling. He came easily, covering the inside of your thighs with his sticky seed, before quickly pulling himself free. 

He had just had an earth-shattering orgasm, but he needed to get you cleaned up. After all, you had just had /several/ earth shattering orgasms.

The vibe was turned off, the tape gently pulled away You flinched at every tug, skin burning with sensitivity, all of your nerves fried and overstimulated. 

Tape off, Aizawa reached up and unbound your hands, quickly throwing the vibe and extra set of cuffs back towards the towel (he hoped - his brain wasn’t working well enough to know if he was accurate or not).

Aizawa felt... good, warm inside. He didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings swirling around in his chest, the contentedness that came from just holding you, but he couldn’t exactly deny all of it either.

The two of you sat there, you lost in your own headspace (subspace? Aizawa didn’t know the terms.. but for you, he’d be willing to learn).

“You did so well, look at you.” The man breathed, looking down at your body. Fuck him, even covered in sweat and cum and fluids, you were still the most enticing thing he had ever seen.

You didn’t respond, just occasionally blinking at the ceiling, still as a mouse. 

You were submissive and compliant for the time being, not struggling when Aizawa gathered you into his arms, cradled your head to his chest. His heart soared at the physical contact - you hadn’t let him do so much as look at you without yelling or snarking some mean insult. This was progress.

Aizawa kissed the top of your head, noting that the two of you would need a long shower in a bit. 

You were so fucked out, Aizawa almost felt a little bad at your disheveled state.

At least he had been merciful this time.

🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

Honeymoon [Din Djarin x F!Reader] - **SMUT**

Summary: You’ve been saving your credits for months in order to treat your husband to the surprise honeymoon you both deserve. He’s a little on edge though, despite the luscious, tropical environment he’s surrounded by. So, as his wife, you do everything in your means to get him to relax.

Warnings: unprotected p in v, riding, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunningless, cum eating, spanking, anal fingering, breeding kink, slight sub!Din if you squint. 18+ only.

Word count: 2600+

Reblogs appreciated. 💙

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

Marrying Din Djarin was the best decision of your life. 

Standing dead centre in the middle of your hotel suite, your husband had never looked so out of place. The yon orange sunlight seeped through the crack in the voile curtains, and a warm, summer breeze waved gently through your hair. You could tell, even through his beskar Mandalorian helmet, that your husband was completely stricken by the beauty of the great outdoors. Your view from outside the hotel suite was a novelty, for sure. The beach’s water circled around the hotel and pooled outside into a tranquil, turquoise coloured ocean. A distance from your window, but not too far, was a growing jungle of vines and trees, habited by various reptilian animals that were distinct to the planet of Scarif. You couldn’t wait to meet them all.

Keep reading

🥵🥰🤤🥴⚰️☠️

congrats on 600 i adore your writing!! #9 with Bakugou pls!!

60 Prompts Event | bakugou x reader | #9 “You can take it. You’ve done it before.”

cw: size kink, dumbification

“Stop tensing your muscles so much.” The instruction is gruff but ultimately right, just like everything Katsuki Bakugou does. “If you don’t fuckin’ relax, then it’s not gonna fit.”

You nod and exhale a shaky breath. You can’t help seizing up, not when he just got back from a month-long mission. Re-adjusting to your hulk of a boyfriend is as nerve-racking as it is pleasurable.

Bakugou gives you a quick ready? before lining himself with your entrance once again. He hisses at how you squeeze his tip — even with foreplay, it’s going to be a tight fit.

“‘Suki… ’S too much.” Despite your weak objections, you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your nails into his back. It’s obvious how well he’s prepped you by your unfocused eyes and open mouth, by the puddle forming on the sheets. But you still can’t help whining. “Too big, can’t do it.”

“You can take it. You’ve done it before.” Bakugou’s eyes are fixed between your legs as he pushes another inch into your heat. “Tough it out, princess. Gonna make you feel real good in a second, ‘kay?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut. He’s not painful, but the stretch is so overwhelming. What’s worse is he acts empathetic but he relishes every second of this, savors every moment when your mind can’t comprehend anything except him. He’s a goddamn menace.

Bakugou looks at your face, smirks at the dumb, cock-hungry woman below him. “Yeah, this big cock fills you up so good. Look at you, fuck.”

He can handle the sting of your nails and he can handle your noises, something crossed between a deep moan and shallow pant. But Bakugou can’t fucking control himself at your barely comprehensible slurred babbling. It’s soft sobs of more, Katsu, I need- I- need all of you please hurts too good please, just-

Restraint snaps and Bakugou drives as deep as he can, grips your hips and snarls. He can see himself through your stomach, see how well you take him, how much you can take. Fuck. It’s been far too long. Bakugou leans down and ghosts his lips over the shell of your ear — he needs to praise you for just a second before he wrecks you both.

“Knew you could do it, sweetheart.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, a side of the hero that no one else gets to see. And within an instant, he’s back, pushing himself up to reach as deep as he possibly can. “Now be a good girl and take what you’re given.”

Fucking yessssss!!!!!!!🥵💦🥴

omay i have a request shinsou's reaction to telling him he tastes good while sucking him off for the first time?

His head falls back as your hot mouth envelopes him, granting him the instant relief he craved. “Fuck that’s it kitty. Just like that.”

You hum around his length, twirling your tongue slowly. You’re too good at this. The feeling of your silky hole gliding up and down his shaft has the hero hissing out praise. And the soft little moans you make as you swallow him are driving him insane.

You give one more long, slow suck and pull him from your mouth with a pop, teasing your tongue along the head as you mutter, “You taste so good, Hitoshi.”

“Oh fuck,” he groans, breath hitching as he inhales deeply. He wants to control you. To take your mouth and fuck it properly. But he knows it’s still too soon. Instead, one hand comes up to guide your head until his cock pushes past your parted lips. “Then don’t stop. Be a good girl and finish for me.”

Legit! Fuck you, you fucking explosive pomeranian! Love you baku boo but you play too much!!!!!😫😫😫

Y/N’s stretching right? She didn’t expect her man to come in while she’s doing downward dog and lemme tell you, this queen has an arch for dayzzzz that no one knew about!!! Let’s see how Sero, Aizawa, Dabi, and Bakugo react to such a perfect position.

sero

ahh good ol’ downward dog eh?

maybe he’ll give you some downward dog dick

hey why’d you push him away?

“i’m trying to do yoga, i just got into this pose and i have to hold it — wait until i’m finished you damned sex hungry bum.”

he laughed and held his elbow out, throwing out and wrapping his tape around your waist

picking you up and carrying you to the bed with a quickness

dabi

girl what the fuck is you doing?

dabi’s never seen any shit like that

all he sees is, their back is arched and ass is up

you want some dick or something?

“what are you doing? presenting yourself like that where anyone could see?”

“dabi... i’m stretching, please shut the hell up.”

aizawa

he knows what you’re doing

but he wants to spend time with you :(

zawa’ sits down in front of you with his back against the wall

he’s holding the calico cat you adopted to liven the house and she jumps out of his hands onto the arch of your back

“hah, even she knows what’s sexy, think it’s a lesbian cat?”

“shota please.”

bakugou

pfft bakugou is stretching with you

but let’s be real, even with his snatched waist he can’t go all the way down like you’re doing

it pisses him off to the max

he wants to mess up your stretch so he can fix his pride, so he slaps your ass with hot and heavy hands

the sting caused you to yelp and fall down, it had you holding your ass cheek and rolling on the ground

“fuck you!”