I Love The "daddy" Word.

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.

Mother of God just take me!!! 🤯🥴🤯🥴🥴🥴🥴💦💦💦☠️☠️

Vin - M Orc x F Human (Reader) // NSFW Monster Match

Monster match for the lovely @teenagezombiekryptonite​​ <3 I couldn’t tag you!

Matches will be under the read more!

Content: NSFW/Lemon; mutual pining, friends to lovers, use of endearment “sweetheart”, intimate embraces (cuddling, thigh touching), slight possessiveness, teasing, flirting, kissing, lingerie on reader, light choking, teasing, nipple play, marking (love-bites, tusks), fingering, slight praise kink, penetrative sex (no mention of protection or explicit release), clitoral play

Masterlist // Monster Match Info + Masterlist // My Ko-Fi

Keep reading

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

Get That Bred

Pairing : Mirio Togata x Reader

Word count : 3.4k

Tags/TWs : MDNI 18+, hybrids (bull!mirio), breeding, daddy kink, reader is AFAB but no gendered pronouns are used, dumbification, use of pet names like cow, heifer etc, barebacking, creampie, tummy bulge

AN : bull hybrid mirio has been living in my brain for the past month, and today i finally snapped, so go ahead and enjoy this feral bullshit (aha) @m-mortimer @selfishwitch come get y'all bull mirio food!!

When your friend had begged you to become a farm hand at their hybrid ranch, you hadn’t hesitated to help. After all, you'd be getting paid to have a little more exercise, and spend all day out in the fresh country air rather than cooped up at home. And for the first week, it was exactly what you had been anticipating. You spent your days in the barn, helping to feed and care for the adorable array of hybrids they had, from cute sheep, to the messy, but fun pig hybrids, everything had been in the realm of your expectations. Until the return of a certain hybrid, that is.

When you show up for work on a bright and early morning, you’re already well aware of your itinerary for the day. In your eagerness to see all the hybrids you’ve come to know so well, you almost miss the now locked door on a subsection of the barn. It’s been empty since you started working on the ranch, but today the wooden doors are firmly shackled shut, thick chains looping through the sturdy iron handles. You're shocked from your thoughts as soon as you hear a harsh exhale coupled with the loud sound of metal jangling emanating from within the locked pen, and it becomes obvious that whatever is in there clearly isn’t particularly happy.

You can’t help but shudder. It’s only a farm, what sort of hybrid needs to be kept under such circumstances? You try to shake the thoughts from your head as you get on with your work, tending to the sheep hybrids by cleaning out their pens and making sure they’re keeping well fed. You really do attempt to stop your eyes from wandering to the shackled door as you play with the little pig girls, who giggle and squeal as they splash about in the mud.

However your curiosity catches up to you when you cross paths with your friend in the farmhouse, and when you ask just what they have locked in the barn, at first all they respond with is a weary sigh.

“Honestly, he’s the reason I needed your help so desperately. We spent all our money on him, after all we were told that he’s a prized bull, the most pedigree of his kind. But he’s refusing to breed any of our cows, I mean, they’re all getting a little on the older side, sure, but every time we brought him one, he’d just turn up his nose and tell me that there’s 'no point wasting his cum on a cunt that will never give him anything worthwhile'.” Your friend pauses, their fingers pinching the bridge of their nose, “Which obviously didn't go down very well with our cows, he called one of them a “no good heifer”, she still hasn’t gotten over it. So we temporarily sent him off to another farm to see if they could have more success, but they've had the exact same problem. But because it’s been so long since he last had the opportunity to try and breed, he’s getting… Restless. And that makes him temperamental, and borderline aggressive. I can’t handle the rest of the farm and him all by myself, but you’ve been such an amazing help, I really can’t thank you enough.” Despite the bags that sit under their eyes, their smile is genuine, and the itch that had plagued your mind all day finally feels satiated.

Until you return to work the next morning to see the once sealed door wide open, and there crouched in the doorway, held back by a large chain attached from his nose ring to the wall behind him, is unmistakably the bull hybrid. You’re frozen in place, held captive under his intense stare as his eyes drag over your body, only stopping when they reach your groin, his nose exhaling so harshly you’re sure you can feel it dance across your now goose-pimpled flesh from where you stand meters away. You’re not sure what to take in first, your eyes moving from his shaggy blond hair, with a curly fringe that sits just above his surprisingly bright cerulean eyes, or the large horns that rise from his tousled tresses; which despite looking very deadly, you can’t help but wonder how they’d look with your fingers curled around them. But as your gaze wanders downwards, past the large metal ring that hangs heavy in his septum, you realise he’s entirely naked.

This really shouldn’t come as much of a shock, the majority of the animals in this barn forgo clothes too, but the difference is that none of them look like him. None of them are built like he is, with bulging muscles and a chiselled abdomen. None of them have such hulking, strong thighs. And absolutely none of them have cocks like that.

It looks painfully hard, the tip a deep, angry red as it twitches against his naval, thick translucent pre-cum oozing from the head and dripping down his shaft in a near endless stream. You’re so lost in marvelling over the cock before you that you don’t notice when your thighs rub together, nor do you mean to let out a sharp gasp when the seam of your work pants drags against your already aching clit.

But you do notice the loud huff that echoes through the barn, your eyes snapped out of their lust induced stupor just enough that you’re able to bring your gaze up to his face. He still has his eyes burning holes into the crotch of your trousers, although now there isn’t a sliver of blue left, his irises swallowed entirely by black.

For just a second, neither of you move, the distant sound of the other hybrids fades into white noise as your eyes flicker between his starved gaze, and the way his obscenely large cock jumps against his abdomen every time your thighs twitch.

The silence is broken the second your thighs part a mere inch, his response immediate as he jolts forward, only to be immediately yanked back by the chain secured to his nose ring.

“God, I hate this stupid chain,” Your eyes widen as he huffs at the metal, his large hands desperately yanking at it as though he could rip it from the wall. Although from the way his large biceps flex everytime he pulls on the sturdy metal, you wouldn't be at all shocked if he succeeded. His voice comes as a surprise too, you were expecting him to have a deep, gruff lilt to his tone, yet despite his size and stature you find yourself being drawn in by the slight playfulness to his voice.

The second you take a step towards him, his head snaps back to you, nostrils flaring. But to your dismay, he slowly starts to stalk backwards, keeping his eyes locked on your figure. He stops once he reaches the middle of his pen, bringing a hand up to make a “come hither” motion with thick, scarred fingers. Your feet move automatically, already having taken several steps before your brain has the chance to catch up and ask you what the fuck you think you’re doing walking right into the clutches of a chained up bull hybrid.

“Ah, ah, take it easy, little heifer, it’s in my genes to chase anything that moves too quickly, and I’d hate to scare you away.” His thinly veiled threat should terrify you, yet instead you only feel your underwear dampen further, your hands shooting down to grip the material of your trousers. Each tentative step you take towards him has your heart rate spiking ever higher, yet even that's not enough to stop you from moving to stand mere feet from him.

A sudden bang from behind has you jumping out of your skin, immediately turning around to see what caused the commotion, but before you have the opportunity to figure it out, you’re being knocked to the floor. The only thing stopping your head hitting the hay covered stone flags being a large hand, one resting over your forehead whilst the other gropes at your chest.

“Did no one ever teach you to never turn your back on a bull, doll?” You’re shivering in his hold, pinned between the floor and his overwhelmingly large body. His cock rutting against your clothed ass draws out an elongated whine from your lips, your brain trying to comprehend just how deep his cock would feel if it were to be buried inside of you.

“I’ve been waiting for so fucking long for a fertile cunt to breed, and then just when I feel like I’m truly about to lose my shit, I smell you. God, it drove me insane yesterday, knowing you were so close yet so far out of my reach,” his head lowers down until his breath harshly fans across your nape, shudders cascading down your spine in waves every time you feel his ragged breath wash over your skin.

“‘s why I asked to have the door open today. They were so hesitant to do it, but I laid it on real thick, all to see with my own eyes the cunt I was going to make mine. And now here you are, and you smell fucking devine.” You startle when his nose buries itself into your nape, inhaling deep lung fulls of your scent.

“Now the question is, are you going to be a good little cow and let me breed your pussy?”

It should be sad, the way you so desperately keen at his words, your hips trying their best to grind upwards against his cock from where you're pinned to the floor.

“Y-Yeah, I heard you’ve been r-really pent up, I just wanna help out.” He chuckles lowly in response, the hand resting against your forehead sliding down to your lips, your mouth immediately parting to welcome two of his thick digits.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the only reason you walked in here. I’m sure you didn’t want to be in this position right now, getting fucked so full of my cum you can’t even form a coherent thought. I’m sure you didn't dream about being my pretty little breeding cow the second you saw my cock. There’s no shame in admitting it, doll, because the sooner you do, the quicker you get to find out for yourself what it’s like to be bred by a bull like me.” Any lingering shame dissipates in an instant, now left only with an endless loop of his last sentence that dances torturously around your lust-addled brain. In your already mindless state, you attempt to respond to him, completely forgetting that two of his fingers are stuffed between your drool-slicked lips.

“Dumb little cow, you’ve got nothin’ in that pretty little head but thoughts of my cock, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need, there’s no point in begging when I can smell how fucking wet you are.” His fingers withdraw from your mouth, briefly joining his other hand at your chest to pinch both your nipples between his fingers from overtop your shirt and bra, twisting the pebbled buds with little remorse. It’s not long before you’re whining again, pushing your chest further into his fingers.

“Please, take off my top? I wanna feel your hands on me properly, p-please?” Your words coax a mocking coo from his lips as his fingers form a tight grip on the material of your shirt.

“Don’t worry little heifer, I’ll make sure you never have to deal with the burden of clothes again, after all what need will you have for covering up when this is all I’ll end up doing?” Immediately after finishing his sentence, your shirt and bra have been ripped off your body with ease, standing little chance against the brute strength of the hybrid. With no barriers to dull the feeling of his touch, you’re now able to feel every rough callous on his fingertips as returns his hands to grope at your chest. His patience clearly wears thin, however, as he pushed you face first into the floor, caring little for your petulant groans of how itchy the straw feels against your bare chest.

“Soon all you’re going to feel is my cock spilling you open, the hay will be the least of your worries, sweetheart.” He’s leaning up now, still firmly sat on your upper thighs as though he’s trying to keep you there, although you both know there’s not a chance in hell you want to leave.

Your trousers and panties get the same treatment as your other clothes, all of which now lay scattered around you both. Now there’s truly nothing between you, there’s nothing to protect you from the feeling of his hot, thick cock that sits against your bare ass, the tip coming to rest on your lower back. You feel every vein, every ridge of his girthy shaft as it rubs against your skin, not able to hold back the deep gulp as his fingers pull apart your ass to slot his cock between the rounded flesh.

“You look so small like this, calf, I wonder how long you’ll last before my cock breaks you? I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to fit in this tight little hole.” He lifts himself off your legs, instead kneeling behind you as his hands grip your waist, pulling your hips upwards until you’re presenting your sopping pussy to his greedy eyes. You let out a stuttered moan as you feel one of his fingers drag through your folds to toy with your swollen clit.

“No fear, my little heifer, I’ll have you prepped to take my cock and cum in no time at all.” His tone is borderline jovial, a stark contrast from the harsh way two of his fingers sink into your cunt, immediately curling against your velvet walls. You’re unable to process anything but how full you feel, his thick fingers already proving to be a struggle to take as your pussy flutters and gushes around him in a desperate attempt to accommodate him.

“Listen to that, fuck, you’re making such a mess already, sweetheart, are you that eager to be fucked by a hybrid? How dirty,” his free hand lays a quick smack to your ass, delighting in the way the flesh jiggles in response, “No need to worry about you're dignity, once people see just how well trained you are for my cock, no one, especially not you, will doubt that you were made to be my little breeding bitch.”

You’ve barely gotten used to the two fingers that fuck into your dripping hole before he’s already adding a third, the stretch making you whine, whether in pain or pleasure you can’t even begin to tell. There’s nothing you can do but take whatever he gives you, and something about being completely at the mercy of someone so dangerous has you mewling against the floor.

“Can’t take it much more, need your c-cock, please mister!” He scoffs at the name, swatting your ass a little harsher.

“Not quite, heifer, since I’m about to fuck a calf into you, feel free to call me daddy.” His fingers pull from your leaking cunt, small grunts and huffs indicating that he’s most likely wrapping his arousal slicked hands around his shaft. You keep your face firmly pressed to the floor, your limbs too heavy to even think about moving them of your own accord. But soon the blunt tip of his cock is rubbing up the length of your slit, although not once does he make a move to dip into your hole as he watches you begin to writhe against the stone floor.

“Please, please daddy! I’ll be your good little cow, I’ll let you breed me so good, just need your cock now- ah-!” Your jaw falls slack in a silent scream as his tip pushes past the first ring of muscle, your nails desperately digging into the floor as you try to relax your pussy enough to take him. But he’s huge, and so unbelievably thick. It’s all encompassing, the feeling of his cock slowly sinking into you, inch by painful inch. You can’t tell up from down, and you don’t have a hope in hell of understanding the words he mumbles into the skin of your back, there’s nothing you can do but think of how fucking full you feel.

“‘urts! Daddy’s too big, s-so big.” Your whines go unnoticed as he continues to sink into you. But soon your walls refuse to accommodate any more of him, your cunt so tight even he can't help but hiss out a pained curse.

“C’mon little cow, relax for me. breathe a little slower, yeah?” He coaxes you into taking some deep, shuddering breaths, and slowly, you feel yourself become cognisant enough to unclench your muscles,

“There we go, such a good heifer for daddy, aren’t you? Gonna let me fill your womb with my cum, sweetheart?” He hums happily when you sluggishly nod your head in response. You’re just about to tell him to move a little further when suddenly the hold he has on your waist tightens, and then he’s slapping his hips against your raised ass. You’re not sure what’s louder, his deep growl, or the shrill scream that rips from your throat.

“Fuck yeah, couldn't help it, your greedy cunt just sucked me in so easily, god look at that, sweetheart.” One of his hands grips your throat, pulling up your body until your back is pushed against his chiselled chest.

“Look at that fucking bulge, my little cow’s stuffed so full of daddy’s cock, you’re gonna look so pretty carrying my calves, baby.” He immediately sets an unforgiving pace, his cock fucking into you so hard that the chain keeping him confined clangs loudly against the metal of his nose ring, the pen turned into a cacophony of his hips smacking against your ass mixed with high whines and deep grunts.

“And people have the audacity to say humans are the superior species, how fucking powerful are you like this baby? Reduced to my little cocksleeve with no effort, you’re nothing more than my obedient little breedin’ bitch.” You can’t find the words to respond, too engrossed in the way his girth stretches your hole, fucking you so full you’re not sure you’ll ever be content without his cock stuffed balls deep in your cunt. All it takes is a couple more brutal pumps of his hips and you’re creaming around his cock, tears pouring down your cheeks as your cunt spasms around his length. Yet he doesn’t stop, in fact his thrusts only increase in speed and strength as pushes your body back onto the floor, his arms caging you in to the stone flags, the position allowing him to fuck into you at a near inhuman pace.

“I’m not stopping until you’re thoroughly bred, little heifer, I don’t care if you cum so much you pass out. Your cunt is mine to fill, it doesn’t belong to you anymore, it’s fucking mine, all mine, and I’m gonna use it as much as I please.” The words have you cumming around his cock once again, the only sound you’re able to make is pitiful hiccuped sobs as you’re reduced to nothing more than his fleshlight. It’s maddening, the way you aren't able to catch a single second of reprieve, fucked into orgasm after orgasm until your brain is well and truly vacant, you’re barely present enough to remind your body to breathe. The concept of time has long since been lost to you, but after he’s pulled god knows how many climaxes from your limp, overstimulated body, you finally feel his hips begin to falter in their pace. His head falls against your nape as he thrusts once, twice, and then cums with a growl, unloading ropes of thick cum directly against your abused cervix.

“That’s it, there’s my good little cow, take all my fuckin’ cum,” he’s panting into your sweat soaked skin, slowly grinding his release as deep into your twitching cunt as it’ll go. And for a fleeting second, you wonder if that means you can finally have some time to try and catch your breath, but then you realise that his erection isn’t flagging, if anything he feels bigger, harder from where he’s buried inside of you.

“You aren’t going anywhere, heifer, I’ve got a lot of cum still left, and the night’s still young.” You’re barely able to react when you feel cold metal locking around your neck, accompanied by the familiar clanging of chains.

“Now look at that sweetheart, we match. You’re nothing more than a breeding hole for a bull hybrid, and I plan on making use of your fertile little cunt.”

© toshidou 2021

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 oh my. I almost fainted.. Jesus take the wheel

Could I request some scenarios with Bakugou, Deku, and Todoroki where the have a black s/o (who’s thick as hell and her body’s just gorgeous) and one night when they were getting a lil freaky 😏 she tries to get away because at this point it just too much 😶 and they’re just like “where you going, stop running from this dick” 🥵 (and btw I love your fics so much and I hope you do this one ❤️ have a good night)

Your shapely legs were split wide and thrown up in the air being held by powerful, scarred hands.

“F-fuck, Deku, s-slow down,” you begged, “please!”

Your pleading was music to the man’s ears. The way your hazy, half lidded dark eyes glistened with tears in the corners made him want to push you further over the edge.

“I got you, babydoll, fuck you feel so good..” Deku moaned as he plowed you with back breaking speed.

“Deku, I caaan’t.” You whined, back arching off the bed as your toes curled.

Green eyes admired your big bouncing dark tits and the way you gripped the sheets.

“Daddy, please~”

“Sshhh, it’s ok, baby. I got you.” Your man hummed back.

He leaned down, still holding your legs above your head to hit even deeper into your gripping walls.

“Haaaah~Dekuuu!”

Intense pleasure burst through your core. Too much! Fuck! It was so good it hurt.

“Like that, y/n?” He grunted lengthening his intense strokes.

“Please,” your manicured fingers pushed his hips, “Deku, it-ahhh~it’s too mu-much-please-“ you said, trying and failing to wriggle away from the broad, strong body.

Deku tossed your tiny hand away with a chuckle.

“No, no, baby doll.” He picked up his pace, cursing under his breath at the way your creamed and clenched on his dick. “D-Don’t run from it. Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth. “Don’t run from me~”

Your boyfriend’s dick was hot and heavy and deep inside your aching pussy. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—for you, he was not easing up anytime soon.

“Shoto~” you whined.

“Mmm?” He hummed against your ear. His warm hand squeezed around your throat as he held you flush against his hard chest. “What is it, y/n? You want it deeper.”

“Unnn~” was all you could manage. You shook your head to the best of your ability making your kinky curls bounce slightly. “N-aah~mm~no more. Too much.” You stammered.

“Too much?” He slid out slowly, giving you a fraction of relief before you plunging back inside you.

“Gah!” He choked you harder, speeding up until you felt his sack slapping against your pussy.

“But you look so good taking my dick like this, Angel.”

“Shoto, I can’t take it any deeper!” Every stroke had your vision going black, eyes rolling.

He slid his hands along your flushed melanated skin, one hot and one cold, to squeeze your fat breasts.

“Yes you can. This juicy ass of yours was made for taking my dick like this wasn’t it?” He moaned. He loved the way your soft cheeks provided extra cushion for his dick. “Wasn’t it?”

You bit your full lip, loving every naughty word.

“I jus-just need-“ you reached back, gripping his thigh. “N-not so much...”

Shoto grabbed your hand and twisted your arm behind your back.

“I don’t think so, y/n,” he groaned at the sensation of yet another shaky orgasm as you came on his dick. “You’re not running from me, beautiful. Don’t run from it~”

can i request the main three who has a s/o that loves when the guys suck their tits (the s/o lactates but is not pregnant) pls make it filthy queen 🙌

Todo has a mommy kink which goes perfectly hand-in-hand with your particular ‘quirk’

The first time you told him to: “Come and milk mommy, Sho.”

He was like: “Yes mommy” 🤤

The first time it happened bae was like

😳😱🤤

Now he can’t get enough of milking you and you can’t get enough of it either

“I’m hungry mommy.”

You live to tease him too.

Subtly playing with your tits in your agency meetings in front of him, until he has to dismiss himself to go to the bathroom.

Best believe when that meeting is over, he’s milking you in his office

You’re the sweetest taste in the world to him

If it’s not running down his chin and dripping on his chest, he’s not done

Deku is a BOOB GUY all the way

Massaging them, rubbing them, gazing at them

He is all about anything to do with your titties

So the fact that you have a fetish for getting them sucked?!

😏

Ma’am!!!!

When he discovered you lactate, he legit passed out

Like you almost called 911 until he woke back up

“Y/n y-y-you could have told me. God you just get more and more perfect.”

Sucks your titties in the morning before work for his “morning sustenance” as he calls it

Milks his dick on those soft tits of yours then drinks the combination of his seed and your milk from off your titties

Y’all nasty asses are a match made in heaven

An unapologetic freak, Bakugo was originally an ass man, but those tiddies of yours made him into a boob guy

“C’mere sweet tits, I want something to drink.”

You have to remind him y’all are in public cuz baby boi don’t give AF

Squeezes your titties till there’s a wet spot on your shirt

Sucks the milk out in the alley beside the restaurant y’all are frequenting, in the elevator real quick, in his office at work, in your office at work

“When daddy wants to taste you, he tastes you, understand mama?”

“Yes daddy” 🤤🤤🤤

Boob jobs galoreeee

Your milk is like a natural lubricant and oof 😏

Daddy can’t get enough

Bakugou: raises his voice

(y/n): cause I KNOW a nigga named DynaMight not shouting at me rn.

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

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.”

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Yes daddy shinso! Talk to me like that I'll obey 100% jesus!!🥵🥵🥵🥵

Dabi, Shinsou, Kirishima, and Mirio seeing their s/o twerk like she’s Megan Thee Stallion and sis even rides the dick like a pro

dabi

“c’mon dabi, no one will recognize you! the club is really dark and the music is so loud- please!”

you begged and whined — dabi couldn’t say no to those eyes looking up at him so prettily

“fine”

1 hour later

the 7 mixed drinks had deemed to be too much for you to handle

you were grinding on women and men combined, dabi didn’t have a problem until an upbeat provocative song came on

and you started twerking on a man, your front half was twisted so you could hold onto the randoms shoulder and your ass was pressed into his crotch

the smell of smoke alarmed everyone and you saw dabi standing at the entrance with his hand in a crowned position and his blue flames spouting

you ran to him and he tugged you into his side ignoring the screams as people burned, more specifically — the man you were with

shinso

baby, leave this man alone

he’s too grown to be dealing with your ‘fresh into college’ ‘always wanna run the streets’ ass

“i don’t wanna go to the club y/n, you can go my love.”

he wasn’t moved by your 5 minute speeches about how he should tag along so you did what you did best

cry

“i-i just wanted to spend time with you, and show you off to my friends... we used to hang out all the time... i don’t understand, do you not want to be around me anymore?”

2 hours later

he was pissed, standing against the wall with his hands jammed in to the pockets of his black jeans

sulking — as you grinded and shook your ass on one of your friends, it was girl but shinso was still pissed

it was all over when her hand slid into your dress and you did nothing but giggle

he pushed her to the floor, yes, pushed the bitch and dragged you out of there

“haha! oh my gosh baby you pushed yui!” you were cackling, the alcohol making you ditzy

shinso rolled his eyes and grabbed your entire lower face with one hand, covering your mouth and ears

just low enough so that you could still breathe out of your nose

your eyes were blown wide

“when we get home, you’re gonna ride me for a whole hour, and i don’t give a fuck if your ‘legs hurt’ or ‘you can’t take it’ you wanna test my patience right? then this is what you’ll get.”