Nice Sadists Are So So Underrated.

How I think Aizawa Sounds in Bed (Shouta Aizawa Moaning Headcanons + NSFW AUDIO)

NSFW Warning: 18+ PLEASE!!!, Daddy pet name, Sir honorific, video audio of moaning + people doing the deed (WEAR HEADPHONES)

A/N: Y/N is Gender Neutral for this one! (+ No distinct descriptions of genitalia) the audio video is right here below :) enjoy chile

YALLLLLLLL:

Sooooooo I've explored the unholy sites of the internet and found someone I think's voice would represent Shouta's very well when he...🥴let me briefly explain:

Those low rumbles and hums that build up in his chest when he locks eyes with you while you suck his cock so well, bobbing your cute head and wrapping your soft lips around him. Your tears well in your eyes and spill over, running down your cheeks as you gag on him.

Those audible gruff grunts and husky huffs Shouta makes when he's pounding your tight, squelching hole as you whine his name, practically weeping for him to fill you up.

Those few but perfectly tuned baritone pants of praise he smoothly passes in your ear for being so good for him, knowing how to make him cum so beautifully, how to behave so obediently for him, how to give him the best pleasurable climax he's had in ages. His head is damn near close to blowing off when you whine for him to keep going, those adorable sobs, pleas and responses of 'yes sir', 'please daddy' and 'please let me cum'. The shudders and jagged breaths he exerts while he cums are impeccable. He simply can't take it all, especially when you finally release against him, shaking and clawing at his animalistic form. You're his little baby tending to his needs, giving him your sweet little hole to fill over and over, all day if he wanted to, so he could blow off steam.

He surely lets you know he's enjoying himself with his ♡︎𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒♥︎ the audio examples of such are compiled at the beginning of the post as a video!

Audio cred to WickedFellow on PH or XVids!

I'm unsure of the artist for the art/picture but pls comment if you know who it is so I can give them cred!

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 © 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙯𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙥𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩

bruh erasermic are so creepy (n hot whatevs) but they would have 👏 me 👏 if they set up a deal like... every minute i spend in lingerie is another dollar i get to spend on video games or clothes... or every time i let them do something to me i get a new book or something... i’m just broke ok

I mean,,, I don't make jokes about Hizashi being a sugar daddy for nothing. I mean sure, Shouta probably makes a pretty penny as a teacher and Hero, but you know Mic has that celebrity money. He drives a foreign muscle car, he has his own radio show on top of also being a teacher/Hero, and even his IRL inspiration at least namesake wise was like a famous celebrity so like... he's got cash to blow, especially on his honey. Shouta's basically the only thing keeping him from doing something insane like buying a private jet to take everyone jet-setting to private islands for vacations or a honeymoon. Sometimes I get this specific scenario in my head of Reader having a walk-in closet and one day Hizashi walks in on her essentially playing dress up. Like, she never really spent much money on clothes before, especially really nice cute clothes, so picture him looking for her and hearing her in her closet, stealthily opening up her closet door and she's kind of looking over the cute outfit she put on. It's one of those pretty pleated skirts that have little suspenders over a nice button up blouse and she paired it with those cute little flat black shoes with the buckles and, to his pleasant surprise, thigh high stockings.

Of course you just freeze like a deer in headlights when you finally notice him staring at you through the cracked open door, and you're so adorably flustered and embarrassed, hardly able to tell him to get out, that you're getting changed, but he isn't leaving. Mic just starts cooing over how insanely cute you look, fawning over you and how you're finally wearing some of the new threads he got you (even if you tried to hide it, sneaky girl!)

Obviously the blonde is ecstatic, and you don't even get a word in edgewise before he's calling out for Aizawa, the radio star basically presenting you like a trophy as much as you try to tuck your arms around yourself in embarrassment.

"Lookit 'er, Shou! Ain't she just the cutest?!"

It's kind of humiliating, but you can't deny that all the praise makes your cheeks burn as they all but worship you. They're especially fans of the thigh highs, and, you know, it gives them a few ideas on other things they can get you to wear

Smoke Rings on Gold Frames (18+)

Heisenberg x reader smut

Here's Part One, and Part Two.

This is a part 3 to the small smut series this has turned into. Again, this makes me so happy that’s it’s getting so much love and attention! As always, finish your dinner before you get to your dessert! <3

Warning: It’s a smut! Dominating metal man, eating out, biting, mentions of wounds, praise, slight choking, mirror play, degration. Faint mention of lycan/Heisenberg. Look how much fun you two are having!

Summary: He saved you, yes, but Alcina still didn’t like the idea of that man getting anywhere near his precious daughter. You on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of him. He couldn’t get enough of you either. In fact, how desperate was he to have you under his grip again?

- - -

You flicked your wrist against the match box, watching the slim piece of wood spark before erupting into a small bright flame.

The match quickly went towards the metal basin of your antique brass incense burner, nestling inside to scorch the loose incense blend you piled inside. The thick, rich smoke of green sage mixed with your favorite dried flowers began to perfume the air, drowning you in a comfortable smoke. You closed the lid on the metal burner, sliding the container over towards the far end of your vanity table and proceeded to look at yourself through your vanity mirror.

You lit your incense burner on evenings you felt like you needed to be alone. Usually before bed, one or all of your sisters would come by for a visit, or the maids would attend to pick up dirty garments for washing or to bring you tea. Naturally, your sisters weren't fond of the smoke, even going as far as avoiding the hallway so they weren't troubled by it. You loved your sisters dearly, but sometimes you lit your incense on purpose, especially after learning that bugs don't like smoke.

As for the maids, if they smelled it, they'd know you weren't to be disturbed.

When you arrived home on that day, Mother was quick to send you towards a bath and have your brand new dress burned. You felt like you were in that bath for an hour or more, succumbed to the warm waters filled with bubbles, flowers and heavily scented bath oils. After a while of scrubbing, relaxing and daydreaming, you left when your fingers were pruny and the flowers in your bath were shriveled and dull of their color.

You remained in your room until dinner, passing the time by reading. Alcina had dinner sent to your room, along with a bottle of a brand new wine you've never heard of before.

She's been spoiling you more than usual these passed few days since, bringing you your favorite meals and desserts, and you knew it was because of the 'incident.'

Don't get her wrong, Alcina was in fact proud that you fought off the lycan to the best of your abilities, it's what she had you trained for. As reluctant as she was to admit, she was thankful that Heisenberg saved you, even though she had no idea of the full truth.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your gray silk nightwear to reveal your healing wounds. They were minor little punctures the size of faint bullet marks along your shoulders, and weren't deep at all. But Mother, as caring as she was, gave you healing salves and a tincture to treat them so they wouldn't get infected. You opened one of the tins, slowly applying the salve along your marks with gentle fingers. They looked to be healing well, and hopefully wouldn't leave any scarring.

Losing your concentration on yourself, you began to pick up the faint voice of your Mother from the main hall. The walls were fairly thick, and your bedroom was the farthest from the entrance of the castle. If you could hear your Mother from this distance, than her voice was raised and didn't sound too happy.

Quickly fixing your clothes, you grabbed the closest article of clothing to wrap around your body before leaving your room, heading towards the hall. Your fingers finished tying the straps of your robe when you heard another voice talking back to Alcina, and it was impossible to not recognize who it was.

"Boo!" Daniela's voice spooked you from your pace, the girl giggling as you turned around quickly to acknowledge her.

"Did I scare you? Did it work?" She continued asking, joining your side as she too was curious on what was going on.

"Shh!" Another voice, Cassandra, silenced the girl as she joined along, the trio stopping at the top balcony looking over the main corridor. Bela caught up last, keeping a black shawl over her head like a hood to see what was happening. Four heads looked down to their Mother, who was dressed in her formal attire, arguing with no one other than Heisenberg, his trench coat sparkling with meting snow.

"For the last time," Heisenberg puffed out a cloud of smoke, pulling his cigar from his mouth as he pointed up towards Alcina, "When the damn things learn that they're promised a sacrificial blood bath in a couple of days, they get riled up! They're dogs, for fuck's sake! Your kid is like a walking treat to them!"

"Don't speak of my daughter that way, you pig!" Alcina sneered with venom in her voice and a killer look in her eyes. He only shrugged it off, shifting his weight from one foot to another, all while balancing is hammer over his shoulders.

"Look, I can control them to an extent. They know when to stop and when to go, when to shake hands, where to piss an' all that. But with this event coming soon, they're getting excited for anything that breathes and bleeds. That's all the excuse I can give you."

Alcina wasn't too pleased with his words, but to a certain extent she could believe what he meant. It only frightened her more to keep you inside the castle, at least until the village purge were to pass.

"Fine," She exhaled, bringing her hands to her hips. "Alright, You've made your point. Now, you know where The Duke is, go finish your business with him and go-"

"Yeaaah," Heisenberg cut the woman off, a grin beginning to form on his face. "About that, It's snowin' really bad out there."

"And?" Alcina raised a brow.

"And," He continued, "It's piling up fast. You have to go to the church, yet my place is much, much farther."

Is this man serious???

Alcina wanted to clutch his throat right then and there. He wanted to stay in HER castle??? A dirty, disgusting man like him? Who does he think he is?

"You want to stay in my castle?" She questioned with utter shock.

"Just for tonight, you clearly have the room to fit one more."

"The only place for a man like you in my castle is on the roof hanging from the flagpole at the top of the tower!"

"I said INSIDE, woman! Its fucking freezing! Don't believe me? Want me to crack open a window to prove it?!"

"Stick him in the cellars, Mother!" Daniela chirped, all heads turning towards the red headed girl. "He can sleep with the rats and play with the maids!"

Her laughter quickly grew contagious with the rest of the girls, including you as you looked towards your heavily frowning mother and a smirking Heisenberg.

"That sounds even better," Heisenberg chuckled as he brought his cigar to his lips, meeting your gaze as he blew out a puff of smoke. "A nice, warm place that's dark and filled with livestock. You won't mind if I play with one pretty little lamb, right?"

"That's enough," Alcina ordered, causing your giggles to quiet down. She exhaled as if defeated after fighting her choices. As much as she wanted to reject him and throw him out to the snow, she felt as if she at least owed him a fair amount of debt. She didn't want to, but she'd feel selfish for doing otherwise.

"Just for tonight," Alcina raised a finger towards the man, "You will be gone before the sun rises, or I'll drag you out myself. Do you understand?"

"Tall and clear."

"Hmph,” Turning away from the man, she looked up towards her daughters, who had been leaning against the balcony rails with curious eyes.

“I’ll be leaving for the night girls, I’ll be back before morning.” Alcina announced, meaning she was leaving to the church to be with Mother Miranda. It happened once in a while, and when you asked why, she would mention something along the lines of special planning and ‘special meetings with the favorite child.’ Maybe it was to discuss the village purge.

It was a few hours since Mother left and you retreated to your room. It was pretty late, and after a couple hours of tossing and turning you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You sat up in bed with an open book in your lap and half a glass of wine in your hand. The words on the page didn’t even interest you, nor did the wine do much to distract you from your thoughts.

Heisenberg was here. In the castle.

If he wasn’t here, you’d just allow your own thoughts to put you to sleep. But the fact he was here incredibly nearby, it made you pretty anxious. A part of you wanted to go down there in the cellars to find him, but you had a lot of maids down there who probably would never keep their mouths shut. Your sisters would question it too, but then again the fact that he was down there with all the maids...

Their was a knock at your door, stealing you away from your thoughts. You tossed your book aside, downing the rest of your wine before setting your glass down on your vanity next to your lightly smoking incense burner.

At first, you thought it was one of the maids coming to you for reasons unknown. But when you opened the door, the scent of scorched tobacco smoke immediately told you otherwise.

“Karl? What’re you doing up here?” You leaned against your door a little bit, seeing the way he immediately eyed you up and down, lingering on certain areas of your body.

“Mmm, looks like you’re finally taking my advice,” He began, a grin slowly forming on his face. “Wearin’ less clothes so you don’t hide that gorgeous body.”

You shook your head, looking away from the man as you stepped aside, gesturing him to walk in.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You closed the door, watching him slowly place his hammer down to the side without it making a loud thud.

“I followed the smell,” He responded, looking around at the decor in your bedroom. “Figured yours would smell the least of rotting blood and corpses the vampire bitch is known for.”

Your room was plain and simple, with the classic elegant spin that was in every other room in the castle. You kept it clean, minus the bed you were in before. The silk sheets were tussled, the fabrics in your favorite color.

“You know if someone found out you were in here, you’d be in a lot of trouble,” You spoke with a teasing tone, walking over to take off the shades from his face, along with his hat.

“I doubt that,” He chuckled, his eyes crinkled with amusement, “I might've threatened a couple of peepers, might've not. After all, I’m just a thirsty ol’ man looking for a tall glass of water.”

You held back a laugh as you placed said items down on your vanity, looking back to see his cigar nestled in his fingers. He watched you reach over and pluck it away, meeting his gaze as you slowly took a drag from said cigar, the embers glowing brighter than the candles that bathed your room in dim light.

“Well,” You blew out the smoke slowly, seeing the swirls evaporate as they got close to Karl’s face. “Did you find it?” You leaned over to put out the cigar inside your incense burner, feeling the floor slightly shift as he took a step closer to you.

“I’m lookin’ right at it,” Came his reply, his tone low and heavy with lust. “C’mere,” His gloved hand snuck around behind your neck, forcing a fierce kiss from you.

Your hands found a hold on his trench coat, yanking it off his shoulders while his hands plastered themselves on every inch of your skin. They found your breasts, squeezing them through the thin silk fabric. Abandoning your chest, they slid down your sides before squeezing the curves of your ass, holding you as close to him as possible. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, chuckling a little before sucking the soft flesh.

“Mm,” As wonderful as this was, you had to break the kiss before his fingers could attempt to catch a firm hold on your sleepwear.

“Ah ah ah!” You shoved his hands off, forcing him to frown deeply.

“Sit down,” You motioned your head towards your bed, seeing Karl glance over it before frowning even more. “Really?”

“I said sit, Dog.” You ordered the man, even going as far as to shove him back. He caught himself this time, landing against your bed. He sat up properly, his frown replaced with a strong smile at your tone. It was cute watching you tell him what to do, but he didn’t voice it.

“I’m not having you rip up my clothes for a third time,” You proceeded to speak, staying where you were as you started to pull up the silk fabric of your gown in your hands, lifting it ever so slowly to pull off over your head.

“Yes Ma’am,” He responded slowly, watching you with intense eyes darkened with lust. It was your favorite look on him. You almost felt like you were standing top center at the church, with Karl as your only worshipper. He eyed every inch of your skin you exposed to him, relishing in the sight the second your garment fell to the ground. You stood in front of him with breasts bare, your nipples hard from the excitement.

You knew what Karl was waiting for, he didn’t try to hide it as he stared at your waist, seeing your fingers sliding along the edge of your panties. You hooked your thumbs around them and pulled them down slowly, hearing the man lightly groan when they fell to your feet, the material glistening from your wetness.

“Fuck, kitten,” He breathed, slowly pulling off his gloves and tossing them to the floor. He stood up from the bed, and while you were tempted to tell him to sit again, seeing the way he started to tug off his shirts made you silence yourself.

“That’s cute,” He started, his bare calloused hand running down your flank, making you slightly shiver, “Your little show. Very, very cute. But now it’s my turn.”

Oh? You tilted your head slightly in question.

He turned you around, making you face the large floor length mirror you kept against your wall near your closet. Bright gold metal lined the edges, giving it a rich elegant look you adored seeing, it was one of the many eye catchers in your room.

But now, you were staring at your own reflection as Karl stayed behind you, his hands traveling over your breasts again.

“I just adore these sessions of ours,” His voice rumbled in his chest against your back, watching as your attention was focused on his fingers teasing your slightly bruised nipples. “I never knew you had such a bite to your bark, (Y/n). To think their was such a freak hidden away in this pretty head of yours, it’s just another thing I’ve grown to like about you.”

He gave your nipples a rough pinch, making you jump and hiss with surprise while your back slightly arched. He shushed you almost instantly, taking away your hand before it even came close to his.

“Hurts, huh? Pain is such a fantastic way to waken up the senses, especially with the erotic type of pain.” His hands left your breasts and down to your hips, the tips of his fingers gliding ever so close to where you wanted them to be.

"You..." You spoke up again, making him halt his movements.

"What was that?"

"You talk too much." Was your response, making the man chuckle.

"Besides bein' a sexy freak, you're also such a fucking brat." One of his hands left your hips to cradle your jaw, securing your head forward to where you stared at yourself in the mirror.

His free fingers found your clit through your warm folds, making you emit a small whine as he teased you with slow, small circles.

"I wanna make you come (Y/n), but I also want you to watch yourself when I make you," Karl murmured in your ear before taking your earlobe in between his teeth, giving a small tug. He applied more pressure against your bud, increasing his pace slightly in a way that made your stomach press against his forearm that you held, your fingernails digging into his skin as not so subtle whines left your lips.

"F-fuck," You hissed, your head slightly moving in his grip as you couldn't help yourself to look down, seeing the warm light of your room reflect off the slick that gathered on Karl's rough fingers.

"So vulgar sweetheart," His grip quickly tightened on your jaw, fingers almost bruising your skin as he moved your head back to where it was before. "I didn't tell you to move. I'm not gonna repeat myself."

It wasn't long before he set a brutally fast pace, forcing more whines and whimpers to flood his ears. Your other hand gripped his other arm, finding leverage against him as your body shuddered, feeling like you were close to losing yourself. You couldn't help but curse this man in your head that he was so capable of making you feel this way, but oh did it feel so good.

"On second thought," Karl announced before his fingers completely abandoned your folds, forcing you to let out almost a fuming, irritated groan. You were seconds away from feeling your core burst, the lack of attention quickly filling with annoyance.

"What the hell??" You wanted to yell at the man as he stepped away, looking at you with nothing but a shit eating grin. He brought his two fingers to his lips, licking at the pads before sucking on them, humming as if he was tasting ambrosia.

"I had a change of thought," He hummed, holding you by your shoulders until your back fell against the bed, looming over your form. "You got to fill out your little fantasies, now its time to fill out mine."

Karl kissed you before you could say anything else. It continued for a moment before he cut it off, proceeding to pepper kisses down your neck and chest, paying quick attention to your breasts before trailing down your stomach. His beard lightly scratched along your skin the entire way, the man kneeling down in front of the bed to get towards his prize.

He spread you apart, leaving you to close your eyes out of quiet nervousness as he glared at your flower, perfectly glistening for him.

He closed the short distance, his tongue gliding along your entire pussy in one long swipe. The new contact was more than enough to make you whine at the sensation, making the man smile against your skin. He repeated the motion a second time, the tip of his tongue spending extra seconds on your clit, making your knees raise slightly as a small mew came from you.

Any hints at being gentle were banished as he started to eat you out like a starved man. His hands pinned your thighs in place, preventing you from closing them around his head, although the idea of it wasn't a bad one. His dexterous tongue left nothing untouched, licking against your clit repeatedly and sliding inside you, fucking you with his tongue alone. His facial hair even added a prickling sensation that only added onto the pleasure, intensifying even more when he brought his lips around your clit, suckling hard.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, your fingers tightly gripping your blankets as the sounds you made reached various broken octaves. This man didn't let up, even bringing two of his fingers inside you, curling upwards in a way that had your back arching almost instantly.

This was something Karl wanted for a long time: To be in complete control of your body and give you the ultimate sensation that any human would want, pure pleasure. He could take you to that state of euphoria, and do it over and over if he wanted to. Right now, he really wanted to take you there.

"C'mon," He muttered against you, making you raise your head to stare at him with half-lidded eyes. "Come for me babygirl."

His lips returned to sucking your clit again with a perfect thrust of his fingers, the built up pleasure snapping in your lower abdomen almost instantly. The hot white delicious relief spread throughout your body like a scorching wildfire, making you cry out while covering your mouth with your fingers to prevent being so loud, but it did little to nothing. Your other hand found itself tugging at Karl's hair, fingers tangling in his silvery locks as your hips rocked against his mouth, the man sucking every drop from your core for all it was worth.

"There you go sweetheart," He cooed when you settled down from the high, feeling the man kiss the inside of your thighs. He bit your skin a little at first, making you give an almost breathless giggle at what you believed was a tease.

His sharp teeth popped the skin of your inner thigh when he bit down again, your warm blood flooding his lips as he instantly sucked the wound, making you gasp and writhe from the pain. His hands secured your hips from thrashing away, your hand tugging at his hair as his tongue repeatedly brushed over your inflicted wound. You grew so focused over the panic, you got caught off guard when his fingers returned towards your folds again. You haven't fully recovered from your first orgasm, the sensation of his fingers making you whine much more louder than you wanted to.

"K-Karl," You gasped out, attempting to push his head away with your hand. "Karl stop! I can't-"

The man refused the push, emitting a low growl from deep in his throat that almost scared you, making you move your hand away from his head. His nails started digging into your skin, leaving angry red trails as his mouth abandoned your bite wound, quickly returning to your pussy without a second thought.

Your next orgasm felt forced, the pleasure more intensified with the stinging pain of overstimulation. It made you buck your hips against his mouth, your hands pulling against your sheets so hard you'd fear they would rip.

Karl removed his mouth as you came back down, giving your wound a final wipe of his tongue before chuckling.

"Now I know why these monsters insist on keepin' you, Everything about you is so sweet." He looked up at you almost glowing, feral eyes and a broad smile on his face, completely ignoring the fact that he bit you just to taste your blood and prove his point.

''And you call me a freak," You breathed out, watching as he stood up from the ground, pulling you closer to him by your legs. He scooped you up in his arms, proceeding to climb up in bed before laying you back down, your head nestled against your pillows.

"We're all freaks," He countered, looming over you as he undid his belt, "But you and I, We're both hand in hand in this twisted freak show."

He pushed inside you slowly, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. To your overstimulated form, you couldn't help but feel a bit of pain while squeezing around his length. But like he had said before, or similar to his words, pain mixed with just the right amount of pleasure was an incredible sensation to feel.

Words were getting lost to your mind when he thrusted more into you, burying deeper and deeper into your core. His weight against you had you feeling caged underneath, his distinct scent filling your senses to the brim. You could've cared less if the world ended then and there, the pleasure growing quickly drowning out everything else that didn't matter, only you and him.

His pace quickened considerably, the sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your indescribable moans echoed through your entire room, sounding like music in Karl's ears. Your were a gorgeous sight to behold, your skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your eyes half open with pupils full blown out, clouded in pleasure. He felt your hands plastered along his back, leaving harsh scratches along his skin that provided him his own share of mixed pleasure and pain.

His hand found your jaw again, keeping a tight hold as you joined him in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of tobacco, your blood and your essence was a peculiar combination you never believed you'd ever get a chance to taste, but you weren't in the right mindset to complain, instead you moaned to indulge.

The tighter you clenched around him let him know you were close, forcing him to slow the pace he set, only to compensate for more hard, brutal thrusts. The bruising force of his hips sent you over the edge, your back arching off the bed to push against his chest as a muffled cry came from you, Karl keeping the kiss secured as his arm slipped under you, pulling you up from the bed while swallowing your cries.

He sat up in a kneeling position, both arms secured around your waist as he continued bucking his hips hard, chasing his own release as you were in the middle of yours.

He reached up to hold the back of your head, fingers grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your arms draped over his shoulders, locking your hands as you whined against his shoulder, your eyes open as you stared straight towards your gold lined mirror, seeing the way his muscles flexed with your red claw marks brightening the tan skin on his scarred back. His head rested in the crook of your neck, hearing him emit another dangerously low growl as he thrusts faltered, flooding your insides with a potent, hot warmth. Your shuddered against him, riding out both of your highs as you both held onto each other, completely breathless.

Karl's hand cradled the back of your head, both of your tired forms sitting in a comfortable silence. The longer the two of you stayed this way, the more exhaustion wrapped its thick tendrils around their victims. He laid you down, resting your head on your pillow. You almost refused to let him go, looking up at him with half lidded eyes no longer filled with lust, being completely replaced with a different emotion you were scared to voice, but Karl knew right away.

The man was screwed, because the way you looked at him was the same way he looked back at you.

➥ Girls on Film

Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader

Summary: When you became an intern under the watchful eyes of your mentor, you had never expected things to go so wrong. You had been warned to not let your guard down, but the pride of finally getting the hang of being a hero ate you up and left you as hero bait for the infamous villains lurking nearby. Though you did not expect to wake up to a webcam pointing at your body, and Japan’s most-wanted villain standing right beside you.

Warning(s): NonCon/DubCon, Skull Fucking, Spitting, Humiliation, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Streaming Sex, Squirting, Dumbification, Death Threats, Manipulation, Mind Break.

Note: DARK CONTENT PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS.

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Aizawa is addicted to making you cum. Sometimes he wakes up so riled up from you softly sighing and nuzzling into him all night, from being tense and pent up all week, that he starts to finger you first thing. You might try and push him off, laughing, saying that you're not even awake yet, but he'll just mouth at your neck while his long fingers spread you open and coax sweet, soft arousal from you. He makes you cum once on his fingers and then again on his cock, bucking into you slowly, dragging it out. You're more than ready for breakfast after that, and while you brew coffee and he makes food he keeps coming up to you to stand behind you, grope at your ass and tits, kissing your exposed shoulders. You realize that it's gonna be one of those days and make a bigger pot of coffee. He tugs you back into the bedroom after you spend half an hour with your plants, pets and whatnot, and locks the door. He fucks you rough this time, pinning your wrists above your head and watching your tits bounce, telling you how sexy and juicy your body is, how much he wants to never let go of your plush softness, how much he wants to bury his cock in you every moment of every day. He edges himself for what feels like two hours, moaning that he doesn't want it to end, wants more. He makes you orgasm around him by rubbing at your clit while he pounds into you, and the feeling of you squeezing around him, your moans and whimpers, your strangled "Ah...S-Shou!" makes him see stars. His balls tighten up and he can't take it. When he finally cums inside you, your pussy quivering around him from the pretty pretty moans he grants you, he just keeps going. His stamina is insane and you're delirious. He fucks his cum deeper inside you and this time goes slow, almost lazy. He lies on top of you, his tongue in your mouth, panting, praising you. You're my good girl, so sweet for me, so tight. I've been fucking you for hours and you're still fluttering around me. Are you that needy for me? Say it, kitten, say you're desperate for me.. You cum around him with a gentle mewl and a rolling, languid shaking. There's not much energy left in you and your pussy is a little numb from the friction, but you still want him. You still get wetter and wetter when he groans or rolls his eyes. Aizawa is tired too, but he wants to see you cum again. Just one more time, for him, please. He knows you can. You're almost crying from overstimulation, your pussy raw and puffy. He gets comfortable between your legs and latches onto your clit, sucking it so gently that you cum easily and tears spill out. You're still shaking and moaning when he crawls back up your body for a kiss. You beg him to stop now, you need rest. He promises you can have anything you want for cumming so pretty for him - his dick twitched and swelled from your sounds and taste. You're hungry, so he orders food and you cuddle while it arrives. After you both eat and rest a bit he might just get another couple orgasms out of you. He knows you can do it for him.

Do Your Homework

I’m sorry I’m trying to focus so I needed this quickie out of my brain. Sorry, it’s fast and messy adlkfja;ldj. 

Warning: Smut

Kinks: Teacher, teasing, dirty talk

“UGH!” A pencil flies across the room having just been yeeted from your hand. This homework is unbearable and you’re about to rip your hair out when arms slip carefully around your waist. 

“That almost hit me you know…” Shouta grumbles against your ear. Hot breath fanning over your suddenly sensitive skin as he presses gentle kisses to your neck. The tender touch melts you effortlessly and you can’t help but let out a quiet moan at his affections. 

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Yandere Mr Compress (Part 1?)

My first ever fanfiction, enjoy and please let me know if you want more! I may be continuing this.

TW Kidnapping

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It starts off very innocent. You’re walking back to your apartment after a long day at work and you find a bouquet of flowers sitting at your doorstep. Puzzled, but somewhat excited, you pick them up and take them inside, setting them on your kitchen counter. You check the card “Your beauty is like the waves of the ocean, relentless, wondrous, and potentially disastrous to a poor, lost soul like mine.” It isn’t signed. You could, of course, take this note the wrong way, how could beauty be disastrous? But you figure it just came from an especially stricken admirer. You haven’t had an admirer since high school, how could you not find it sweet? Smiling, you set the card to the side and arrange the flowers on your dinner table. It’s a nice gesture, you assure yourself.

A few days pass and you’re unconcerned about this “admirer”. In fact, it puts a little pep in your step, so to speak. So far, you’ve received the flowers, a teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and of course the usual unsigned notes. Nothing too strange or alarming. But today was a little different. You come home to find a small red box waiting for you. You take it inside, eagerly rip it open, and find a gold necklace with a heart pendant. Your stomach drops a little. This is expensive. Not only that, but you were just eyeing it the other day, thinking about buying it for yourself for your birthday next week. But it’s not like anyone would have noticed that, right? Whoever the admirer is, he must have just seen it and figured it would be nice, right? You set it aside, pour yourself a glass of wine, and put it out of your mind.

The week passes without any more gifts. You’re a little disappointed, but also somewhat relieved. Maybe the admirer just lost interest. Anyway, it’s your birthday and you’re going out tonight, so you’re excited. You go on your usual lunch break to your usual coffee shop, order your usual cappuccino extra foam, and walk outside. You always take an alley back to work, it’s quick and it’s not even a dangerous area, there are heroes everywhere. You’re so absorbed in thinking about your work, the proposal is due today, you don’t even notice the man standing in the shadows with a Rorschach mask and yellow trench coat. But his voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

“You’re not wearing it.”

You stop in your tracks. “E-excuse me?” you ask, without turning around.

“The necklace.”

Your heart stops.

“You haven’t worn it at all. I thought you’d like it. I saw you looking at it and smiling.”

Run. You have to run. Or call for a hero, just DO something. You open your mouth, but by the time you even think to scream for help, you’re breathing in a chemical-soaked rag. And you’re out.

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When you wake up, you have a headache. You don’t really remember what happened, did you have a bad dream? Did you end up going out with your friends? You look around for some water, aspirin… your phone? Anything? Your mind finally clears and you realize, this is not your room. The bed is huge, probably a king. The sheets are regal, red satin with a maroon fleur de lis pattern. Where the fuck are you? You begin to panic and try to get up, before realizing you’ve been tied to the dark, oak bed frame. Shit.

The events of earlier today begin to return to you. The coffee, the alleyway, the man. He was the one. The admirer. He WAS watching you. You look around frantically, looking for anything to cut the restraints. The room offers no solution. No way out. You can feel the tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes as the bedroom door opens.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

You turn your head to meet the voice, a tall man wearing an orange button up shirt with a bolo tie, black vest, and black dress pants. Even after having the audacity to kidnap you, he still hides his face underneath a black balaclava mask.

“I do apologize for the restraints, but I’m afraid I just can not let you run off. Not when I’ve gone to all this trouble to acquire you.”

“Acquire me?” you spit. “What am I, a Picasso?”

He laughs, a real, genuine laugh, like you’re on stage at open mic night. “A Picasso? Oh dear, no, you are so much more beautiful than that.”

You blush, despite yourself, but continue to glare at the man. Who does he think he is? You don’t expect a real answer, but you do ask him, “Who are you?”

“Forgive me, where are my manners?” He says with a smile. He flourishes his hand down into a deep bow, “Some call me Mr. Compress, but you, my dear, may call me Atsuhiro.”

Shigaraki: Well, I can’t say that any of this mess was part of my original plan, but it’s all working out so beautifully I can’t complain.

Scrapyard

Since there seemed to be a severe lack of people writing for this dude, I took it upon myself to write at least a little something. Sorry for the glitchy gif its the only one of him Tumblr provided lmao

WARNINGS: yandere Karl Heisenberg, mentioned body mutilation, mentions of extreme violence and gore, cursing, no actual nsfw but allusions to nsfw, injured and traumatized reader, afab! reader

“Can’t believe the bitch’s cow has strayed so far from the meadow.” The low and grumbly voice of one of the lords interrupted your focus on keeping quiet. You covered your mouth and hid even further back into the small space beneath the desk, even though you’d definitely just been adressed directly. “What? You didn’t like the taste of grass anymore?”

The desk that was covering you flew up into the air, making you cover your head in an attempt to defend yourself. You felt someone kneel in front of you, and with shaky breath you eventually opened your eyes.

Heisenberg was looking down at you with a wide and toothy grin. Both his hat and glasses obscured your view of his eyes, but you didn’t need to see them in order to feel the cruel gaze he pressed on your skin. In his left hand, he was holding the handle of his hammer, and for a moment, you imagined the way he would slam it down on your head, splattering your contents across the dirty factory floor.

“Don’t whimper like that.” He warned as he lifted himself up, kicking you so you’d stand up too. “I’m not going to kill you if you listen to me.”

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his new high

Warnings: DUB-CON, Organized-Crime, Drug (Shimmer) Use, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness

Summary ~ You soothed his pain in a way shimmer never could, and now he’d rather destroy your dreams than watch you leave his arms.

The first time Silco saw you, it was in the fading light of a backroom chem lab. You were bent over a half-conscious man, stitching his torn arm with mechanical precision. His screams filled the room, curses and desperate pleas, but you remained calm, steady, your voice soothing. There was no hesitation in your movements, no tremor in your hands. You didn’t look up when he entered. Not even when the room fell into that particular kind of silence, the delirious ramblings of the injured man fading as he slipped into unconsciousness. It was the kind of silence that settled when someone powerful walks in.

You didn’t fear him. That was your first mistake.

“Most people flinch,” he said eventually, his voice a smooth rich timber. One eye gleamed with an unsettling interest. The other was ruined, unblinking.

You tied off the final stitch and set the needle aside. “Then most people aren’t busy saving someone’s life.”

Silco smiled, it wasn’t a kind smile.

He started showing up more often, sometimes to have you patch up one of his men, stitch a wound, or set a broken limb. Then came the calls for help with research, concoctions, healing. Gradually, he began to trust you enough to assist him in administering shimmer to his red eye. He always had a reason. But over time, those reasons began to wear thin. You were sharp enough to notice

“You don’t need me, Silco,” you told him one evening, after his lieutenant left with freshly bandaged ribs. “You just want something.”

He stepped closer, the scent of smoke and oil clinging to him, the faint metallic tang of shimmer still lingering around his skin.

“And you’re so sure that’s a bad thing?” he murmured. “Wanting something.”

The obsession wasn’t sudden. It was a drip. Slow. Poisoned.

A package on your desk one morning, a vial of rare solvent, only available in Piltover, wrapped in black silk. A gift of soft velvet-lined gloves, with a note: “To protect your hands. We can’t afford to lose them.”

A word to your landlord, suddenly, your rent dropped to nothing. "Consider it... gratitude," Silco’s voice had been like a velvet noose, tightening around you.

You told yourself you weren’t his. But his people stopped calling you by name. They started calling you Silco’s medic. Then, simply, Silco’s.

He kept coming back. Each time, it was a new wound, a dislocated shoulder, a burned hand, a poisoned operative. But he never left right after. He lingered, watching you as you worked. Sometimes, he brought rare supplies, claiming they were for your patients, but he always insisted on giving them to you directly.

He learned your rhythms. What made you laugh, when you skipped meals, how your brow creased when you were focused, how you chewed your lip when you were uncertain.

And somewhere in that quiet obsession, shimmer began collecting dust.

You never saw the moment it shifted. The moment his need for you went from admiration to something darker. Something possessive. Addictive.

One day, while you were restocking shimmer, you mentioned it, absently. “I’ve applied for a fellowship in Piltover. Medical sciences. If I get in... I’ll be gone for a while.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

You turned slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze, a cold burn against your skin. Silco was staring at you like you’d just ripped the breath from his lungs.

Piltover. The word alone was bile in his mouth.

“You want to leave?” he asked, too calm, like it was a simple question.

“For a year. Maybe two.”

“For them?”

“No. For me.”

He stepped closer. You could feel the heat of him now, the tension building between you. “You don’t need that. Everything you’ve built ... we've built, it’s here. These people need you. I need—”

He stopped himself, like he was choking on the words.

You stared. “You need...?”

He looked away, jaw clenched, before answering coldly, “The undercity needs you.”

But the lie hung in the air, thick and suffocating, like smoke.

After that, things changed. The guards around your clinic doubled. Your mail stopped arriving.

And one morning, you found a letter from the Academy , torn at the seal, empty, discarded in your trash bin.

You confronted him, and he didn’t even pretend to be innocent.

“You belong here,” he said, they will use you. Break you. Strip you of everything that makes you... you.”

“And you won’t?” you shot back.

He stepped closer. So close that you could feel his breath on your lips. “No,” he whispered. “I’ll worship you.”

“You belong here,” he repeated, the words trembling with a quiet madness that sent a chill skittering down your spine. “With the undercity. With me. Piltover would ruin you.....strip away everything that makes you… you.”

“Ruin me?” you shot back, your voice rising as you took a defiant step toward him. “You’re the one caging me! The guards, the missing mail, this—” You thrust the torn letter toward him, your hand shaking. “You don’t get to decide my life!”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Don’t I?” he murmured, closing the gap between you with a predator’s grace. The heat of his body was suffocating, the scent of him, smoke, oil, and that faint metallic tang, wrapping around you like a chain. His hand rose, fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt like a lie, a trap disguised as affection. “Everything I’ve done, the rare solvents, the gloves, your rent, it was for you. Because you’re mine.”

You jerked away, but the examination table pressed against the backs of your thighs, cold and unyielding, trapping you in his orbit. “I’m not yours,” you said, your voice wavering despite your resolve. “I’m not some… thing you can own, Silco. This is obsession, it’s not love. It’s control.”

His hand froze, his expression flickering...pain, anger, then something deeper, more unhinged. “Control?” he echoed, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “No, my dear. It’s devotion.” He stepped closer, his body crowding yours, his breath hot against your lips. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The way we fit. The way you calm the storm inside me.” His fingers slid to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair, not pulling but holding you in place, anchoring you to him. “You’re my salvation.”

Your heart pounded, a traitor that refused to still. You wanted to push him away, to scream, but his proximity, the raw intensity of his gaze, stirred something within you, fear, yes, but also a flicker of something else, something you couldn’t name. “You’re wrong,” you said, but the words lacked conviction, your voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed the pulse point at your throat, and you hated the way your body responded, a shiver racing through you, warm and treacherous.

“Liar,” he purred, his lips grazing your ear, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “You’ve never flinched from me before, not when you stitched my men, not when you held my gaze while dosing my eye. Why now?” His hand tightened in your hair, tilting your head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat. His lips brushed there, a fleeting kiss that made you gasp, your hands instinctively grabbing his coat, unsure whether to push or pull. “Because you know what I want… and part of you wants it too.”

“No,” you said, louder, shoving against his chest. But he was immovable, a wall of lean muscle and unshakable will. His free hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across the bare skin of your waist, possessive and warm. The touch was electric, and you shuddered, caught between revulsion and a spark that flickered low in your belly. “Silco, stop,” you said, your voice trembling. “This isn’t right.”

His eyes softened for a moment, a glimpse of the man who’d once brought you rare supplies, who’d watched you work with quiet reverence. But the darkness surged back, drowning that fleeting light. “Right?” he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated through you. “Nothing in this world is right. But you… you’re perfect.” His lips crashed against yours, not gentle but desperate, hungry, as if he could consume you, bind you to him through sheer force of will.

You turned your head, breaking the kiss, but he didn’t stop. His mouth moved to your jaw, your neck, leaving a trail of bruising kisses that drew a whimper from your lips. His hand slid higher, pushing your shirt up to expose the soft skin of your stomach, his fingers tracing the curve of your ribs with a reverence that belied the coercion. “Silco, please,” you said, but the words were a plea, not a command, and he heard it.

“You say no, but your body begs for me,” he whispered, his voice thick with triumph. His hand cupped your breast through the thin fabric of your undershirt, his thumb brushing over your nipple, coaxing it to a peak. He groaned against your skin, the sound raw and primal, and you hated the way it sent a pulse of heat between your thighs. “You’re mine,” he said, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, his touch both gentle and demanding, a paradox that left you dizzy.

You pushed at him again, but your hands faltered, your resolve fraying under the onslaught of sensation. His other hand moved lower, deft fingers unbuttoning your pants, slipping inside to find you already wet, a betrayal that made him groan low in his throat. “See?” he said, his voice a dark caress. “You want this. You want me.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head, but your body was a traitor, responding to his touch with a heat you couldn’t deny. His fingers teased you, slow and deliberate, coaxing pleasure you didn’t want to feel. “Silco, please,” you said, but the words were softer now, your voice breaking as he pushed you toward an edge you didn’t want to cross.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze, his good eye dark with need, the ruined one a void that seemed to swallow your protests. “Tell me, and I’ll make it good for you.”

You stared at him, torn between the fear in your heart and the heat in your body. “I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what you wanted. The uncertainty was a crack in your armor, and Silco seized it.

He kissed you again, softer this time, but no less possessive, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers worked you, pushing you closer to a precipice. When he pulled back, he lifted you onto the examination table, the cold metal biting into your bare skin, baring you to his hungry gaze. His hands were everywhere, on your thighs, your hips, your breasts, claiming every inch of you as he spread your legs and stepped between them.

His trousers were already undone, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh, and you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, unsure whether you were pulling him closer or pushing him away. “I’ll worship you,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he positioned himself at your entrance. He entered you slowly, deliberately, each inch a claim, a promise, a curse. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you, the stretch both painful and intoxicating.

He moved with a reverence that belied the coercion, his thrusts deep and measured, his hands cradling your face as if you were something precious, something sacred. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice a low chant as he drove into you, each movement pushing you closer to an edge you couldn’t escape. And as pleasure built despite your protests, you felt yourself unraveling, giving in to the storm that was Silco, his touch, his voice, his obsession.

He didn’t shoot shimmer anymore.

He had traded one addiction for another.

You were his new high now.