-ˏˋmineˊˎ

The Hierophant - Day 6

Day 6: Professor / Student

Aizawa x F!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Kinks: Professor / Student, Public sex

Notes: The banner was edited by me, photo can be found here. If you would like to be tagged in future fics of mine and writing events, comment with the url tag you would like me to use on this post!

Tags: @redbeanteax​, @cherrycolabomb​, @dabilove27​, @aly-insanity​, @khemz1312​, @violeteyesandpurplehair​, @mattiekins​, @bnhaxxassociates​, @winterpersimmons​, @xkatiex​, @thirstyforthem2dmen​, @katsontherun

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Professor Aizawa’s office looked just as anyone would expect from him: plain, practical and with no sign of personal touches. His office was purely for work and that was it. Every inch was nondescript, white walls, bare of all decoration. Even his desk was unimpressive, only sporting some tests from a previous class he was grading with a glaring red pen and a computer. You swept your eyes over the small pile of papers, catching sight of a very familiar test with very familiar hand writing.

You gulped.

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“Watch and Learn” (Shouta Aizawa x Reader x Shinsou watching lemon)

Had to clarify because people would lose their shit if I wrote them all fucking. Shinsou is an adult. A WHOLE ADULT :LKAJFALJ been getting asks about Aizawa teaching Shinsou how to be a proper Dom and welp if my mind didn’t sneak up and bite my ass. Also I’m feeling soft T^T Thank you Brittpaige for letting me use this wonderful work of art as a cover o////o

Warnings: Sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, DDLG dynamic, soft shital;kdfja;l

Asking to watch Aizawa and you during a scene was the best decision he’d ever made.  

Hitoshi shifted awkwardly in his chair, trying with all his might to ignore the insistent itching in his palm. Fuck. The young pro could hardly believe his eyes.

Your body reacted so powerfully to every word Aizawa uttered: muscles twitching, moans rising in pitch, whines and whimpers pouring from your throat in a seemingly endless stream of pleas and praises. But his mentor’s voice never rose above a murmur. Every calm command was delivered with an easy confidence that made you shiver and moan.

Shouta’s forehead fell to yours, sweat mixing with your own as his hips moved in perfect rhythm. He groaned when he felt your walls flutter around him. A familiar warning that he needed to fuck you steady, and give just the right amount of sensation to make you fall apart.

“That’s it baby… I love feeling that sweet pussy quiver for me. Cum on Daddy’s dick, sweetheart. You can do it.” He kissed the encouragement into your flesh, making your back arch off the bed in ecstasy. 

All you could do was nod and whimper. You reached out for his shoulders, gripping tight before he let you wrap your arms around his neck. You had devolved into a pile of “Yes Daddy’s” and “Please, Sir’s” as he slowly fucked you to orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” Shinsou muttered, covering his mouth with one hand. A viscous heat claimed his cheeks. It was hard to watch this and not let out a moan himself. You were fucking perfect. Every sound and move you made was like something out of his most vivid and explicit fantasies.

Soft, delicate kisses littered your neck. Shouta continued to coax you forward, whispering more praise when he heard your whines rise in pitch. A low growl built in his chest as you let out an unrestrained moan, signaling your release.

“Fuck. Good girl. Don’t stop.”

Your orgasm absolutely wrecked you. Limbs going rigid as Shouta held you through your high. He knew the waves wouldn’t ebb so long as he kept moving, so he never stopped, content to let you drown in pleasure as long as you could stand it.

Finally, your hand came up to press his abdomen, breath coming in heavy pants.  With an approving hum he allowed himself to sink inside you completely, capturing your lips in a slow but heated kiss.

“Thank you, Sir,” you murmured when he broke the kiss. 

“You’re very welcome, Kitten. So good for me.” 

As you regathered your senses, you took a moment to look at Shinsou. He was absolutely fucked. You breathed a small laugh at his expression; cheeks tinted in a full blush, chest heaving from arousal at the sight of his mentor dominating you.

Shouta continued to stroke your hair, never taking his eyes from you when he asked, “Get all the info you needed?” his smug grin gave you goosebumps, but a soft nuzzle of his nose to yours melted them away.

“I… U-Uh.” Shinsou sounded stranded and confused.

“Hmm.” Shouta finally faced him, only to bark a laugh at how flustered he appeared. “You alright kid?”

“Yeah I…” his long fingers carded through his hair and he chuckled, “Whew. Just have a lot to learn-”

“Mmm. It’s all about the mind,” Shouta continued, stroking a thumb over your forehead. You hum in agreement, falling blissfully deeper into the comfort of his embrace “Once you figure her out, you won’t even remember what life was like before you had the beautiful gift of her submission.”  

@luxivii  @thepandapopo  kissthescorpionmidnightsinger  groundzerosimp mikakosamasnippzypie  bramblepaw513  sinclairsamess  teuteusstuff bakugos-wife  aiko-lovescats  glorioushellboo @elektraeriseros​ @queensynderella​ @the-angriestpineapple​ @saint-eridell​ @practisewhatyoupeach​ @present-mel​ @katsontherun​ @sailor-manga​ @hxwks-gf  

me consuming fictional work after fictional work to distract myself from the fact that i exist: i can have little a escapism. as a treat.

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

yes yes yes i am all for this ♡

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

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

word count: 922

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You’re faltering.

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

You have thirty more laps before you can stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Innocence is wasted on idiots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

folie á deux

↠  summary: Ever since you were little, you had the dream to travel the world, but that was quickly stripped away when you were forced to marry a secluded writer by the name of Aizawa Shouta that lived in a dreary manor. The manor was somber in color scheme — a complete contrast to your lively home, but you knew the walls carried something far darker than their vantablack hue.

↠  word count: 16,724

↠ pairing: aizawa shouta x reader

↠ genre/warnings: angst, horror, gothic literature au, yandere themes, arranged/forced marriage, gore, blood, nudity, suggestive themes

↠ a/n: happy early spoopy season!! so this used to be a bts fic (rip) but i really loved this story so i didn’t want it to go to waste. this is a horror story so please read with caution and i hope you enjoy reading!!

↠ tagging: @lord-explosion-baku @my-bad-writing-requested-edition @out-of-my-way-extras

The world around you was a vibrant yellow and your cheeks were pink. You basked in the afterglow of laughter, the sun beaming down on your face. The wheat field around you was golden and the strands tickled your skin. Your white dress dragged across the dirt, staining it brown. Mud squished between your bare toes, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything was serene as you stood in the middle of ginger field that stretched out for miles. A breathless smile spread on your lips, mouth parted, greedily taking in air. Maybe you shouldn’t have run as far and quick as you did, but you felt free. The white mansion with crimson rooftops was a mere speck in the distance. You close one eye and bring your pointer finger and thumb up, squishing the house between them. Repeating this several times, it brought a smile to your face.

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Videotapes

Hizashi x reader

Summary: Hizashi picks up a fan to bring back to his place to make a special little home movie ;)

Warnings: s m u t, swearing, Hizashi gets a little rough, and uhhh… a bit of yandere at the end… 

A/N: I hadn’t ever written Present Mic sm*t before, so i decided to give it a go. I couldn’t help but make him a little crazy at the end there. I am who I am.

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Okay but on the exhibitionist Drabble with erasermic, imagine aizawa s/o looking mic dead in the eye as she’s getting railed and just saying “am I doing a good job, Yamada-sensei?”

Warning: teacher role play

Jesus fucking CHRIST WOFJOEKS.

Shouta’s fucking you just right, cock harder than you’ve ever felt it. Knowing Hizashi’s there, watching him absolutely dominate you, made him lose his cool.

He pushes down between your shoulder blades then moves his hand to hold your cheek against the mattress. The view is perfect. He loves watching you take every inch while you pant and moan his name, every so often answering his “who do you belong to?” with a fucked-out, “y-you sir!”

Hizashi has died and gone to heaven. You look so good getting fucked. Your body’s just so sexy and pliant as Shouta pounds you into the mattress. His eyes are half lidded, and he’s pumping his cock to match Shouta’s pace.

The tension between you is palpable. Those heavy, hypnotic malachites watch your every move, his lips slightly parted as he slicks a bead of precum over his tip with his thumb.

“So fuckin’ good-“ he mutters, only to hear you moan his name and Shouta comment on how tight you just got.

You look him right in the eyes and ask, “Am I doing a good job, Yamada-Sensei?”

It turns him on so much he almost bursts then and there. He groans long and loud as his hand works frantically up and down his length, tightening and twisting as he focuses more on the head-

“Fuck baby, yeah you are. You gonna be a good little girl and let him cum inside you?”

You nod and whimper, meeting Shouta’s thrusts with greedy little jerks of your hips.

“You want us to teach you a lesson? Make you our cute little teachers’ pet?”

Shouta groans at that, hips moving faster as he grips yours with a knuckle-white grip. You’re babbling now. An endless steam of “yesYES please cum in me pleaeplease!” and then Shouta’s giving you what you want, cock throbbing hard as he fills you with rope after rope.

The sight pushes Hizashi over the edge. He bites his lip, thumbing the underside of his cockhead as he shoots all over his abs and tattood chest, stroking loose and easy until the last throb.

His hands flop to the side, stomach heaving as you all try and catch your breath.

“You know I’m never gonna knock again now, right?”

oh I would 100% be lured by a vampire entirely too easy

I love the stuff you got here! Can I request for a yandere Dabi with a feisty darling? Thank you so much in advance!

Thanks for reading! Enjoy ^^

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All the kicking and screaming truly was a vain effort, but Dabi liked watching you trying your hardest nonetheless. Your body was writhing beneath him, legs pulled in to keep his hovering form from descending onto you, and your elbow in his throat to keep his mouth from closing in as well. “You stink!” you complained loudly, and Dabi smirked, knowing full well he didn’t take the time to wash up after the last mission.

Knowing it would bother you even more.

Sure, he could have been nice. Let you get accustomed to him through time—but why would he? It was so much more fun to destroy your will through the desperation that came with being unable to do anything against your captor. Dabi knew you cried yourself to sleep when you thought he was out for the day. That you got up to try and unlock the door. He even mumbled ‘in his sleep’ just to enjoy the seconds of silence as you held your breath. While you weren’t a game to him, this situation sure was.

However, by now, he wouldn’t have minded if he could have had just one calm evening with you. It didn’t matter to him that you were here for a week already or that he was crossing boundaries you wished him not to. Every time you spit into his face, Dabi felt the same thrill he only knew from burning enemies. But what you didn’t realize was that you were enabling him to do those cruel things even more. And frankly, despite the fun he was having, it was slowly getting exhausting to deal with you. Not even he knew how long he could keep up playing nice with you when you were challenging him every second you two were together.

“I didn’t think it would be so much trouble,” he sighed to no one in particular. Rolling his eyes away, even your struggles ceased for the moment as you raised an eyebrow. Luckily, you didn’t know what he meant, or you might have laughed at him. Still, truth be told, the whole ’falling in love’ seemed easier when presented in movies and the occasional manga he was handed.

Catching your free hand suddenly pushing into his face, Dabi grinned, sticking out his tongue to give it a lick, risking your reaction to his taunt. Repulsed, you pulled back, instead building a fist, but throwing your shoulder into his direction with it, you neglected the push on his throat, allowing him to dodge the punch by kissing you. See? Much better, he thought, nibbling at your teeth while your struggles grew angrier.

It had been a while since he got to kiss you, but your lips were still as soft and plush as he remembered them. Your taste lingering on his tongue almost made him proud, reminding him that you were using his toothbrush in an attempt to clean your teeth at all. He wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, was he? After all, he not only saved you from the mundane life you were slipping into, but he also cared for your well-being enough to allow you to use his property.

“Have you struggled enough?” he taunted you, only moving his lips inches away from yours to talk. Crushed under the weight of his body, and perhaps shocked by the sudden affection, you had stopped fighting for the moment, only to bare your teeth in frustration, snapping for him. Today wasn’t the day you were going to become docile—that much he understood.

Pity, really, but Dabi would survive it. Leaning down to escape your futile tries to bite him with another kiss, he reached up to your hand buried under his body until you were flinching too hard to return his affection. The singeing heat of blue flames licking at your wrist was enough to bring tears to your eyes. No matter how feisty, aggressive, and - in a cute way - defiant you were, in the eyes of danger and pain, you were nothing at all.

Not like Dabi didn’t know what he was getting into before capturing you. Diligent worker, just defender of society, and as sweet as a piece of cake. Mind you, he didn’t only mean your ass with that. Those were the three things he used to describe you when he asked for permission to bring you in. Shigeraki only, understandably, sighed at that, shaking his head as if Dabi’s arguments hadn’t been convincing, but it was one of the only favors he ever asked him for. One could think that you were a bit more grateful for his hard work, but no, at the end of that memory, you were crying.

“God, I hate you!” you screamed at him, tugging your wrist out of his grip. Oops, he thought, seeing the burn at your skin, and feeling the heat as well as you pulled it close to his face while covering your eyes. That would leave another mark for sure.

“That’s rough, sugar,” he pouted, trying to shove your arm away from your face, but you only stirred beneath him, trying to turn to the side. Now you were sulking. Even if it should have been him sulking after you’ve been mean to him all week. It wasn’t Dabi’s fault that he fell in love with you. Really, it wasn’t anyone’s, but you sure liked to blame him for it. But in the end, it was always him who was left scarred by your words, his heart throbbing sadly at how cold you were treating him.

However, as it seemed, you understood your place after the threat he burned into your wrist. Getting back onto his palms with an arm on either side of you, Dabi watched as you turned over, finally free of his weight. Pulling in your legs, your once so tough demeanor seemed to change. When you put down your arm, he could see how you were trying your best not to meet his eyes, staring stubbornly at the wall, but you still hadn’t lost your fire. Just like his blue flames raging all over you when you tried to defy him, your eyes were burning with the flames of hatred and frustration. Those flames had yet to turn into ash, but Dabi was happy to see you so alive after all.

Chuckling to himself, he gave you a disgusting smooch to the cheek. Too long, too wet, too unwelcome to be anything but a statement. “I won,” that’s what it said, and the flames in your eyes only began to stir more from the arrogance Dabi was displaying to you.

“You’ll find out it’s not too bad with me soon enough,” he promised, stretching as he got off you. You didn’t move now, didn’t react to his words, and it was a behavior he knew all too well by now. Funnily, you were trying to scold him by ignoring him. It wasn’t working, but it amused him enough to wear a broad grin on his lips. Have it your way if you so pleased, but Dabi decided to take a shower with your shared toothbrush to let off some steam. There was so much more he could do to you that you feared to even think about. So much more that he could break your feisty attitude with. But he was waiting to use it at the right moment. The moment it would make the biggest impact on your life.

The pillow hitting his back only made a sad ‘thud’ before falling to the floor. Looking back over his shoulder curiously, Dabi saw you sitting on the bed, your arm still up in the air after your throw and lines of fallen tears adorning your cheeks. Ah, your cuteness knew no limits, frustration plastered all over your face. Frustration with him, your situation, everything. You hated him, and Dabi loved you for it.

Picking the pillow up from the ground, he sauntered back towards you. A short, rampant outburst of blue flames cooked the poor fabric and feathers into mere dust that dispersed in the room. His grin only grew uncomfortably broad, staples tearing at the charred skin. Your eyes grew wide like a deer in the headlights as you looked at him, almost as if you had a sudden realization.

How dumb of him to not notice earlier when he was toying with you.

Notice that the moment he had been waiting for was already there.

Dirty Old Man

Pairing: Kenny Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Dubcon themes in the beginning (it’s later all consensual), Knifeplay (to remove clothing), Captivity/Kidnapping, Slapping, Daddy Kink, Some Assplay, Gagging (on fingers), Choking, One mention of blood, A little bit of bondage, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Age Gap, Kenny is a dirty old man.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: It’s late, but it’s here! Here’s my part to the Smut Pile’s Western Collab! Please heed the warnings. Kenny is disgusting and I’m disgusting but here we are, fucking Kenny.

           “I told you to stop running away. I’m gettin’ real fuckin’ tired of chasin you down.” Kenny spit the words out like poison, crouching in front of you to place the tip-end of his knife against your corseted chest as a warning.

           You attempted a protest, but the makeshift gag made out of a torn piece of your skirts kept you virtually silent. Your wrists were burning, the rope around them scratching against your skin behind your back. The inn he’d taken you to for the night was damp and dirty, the floor you were tossed into reeking of piss and sour bourbon.

           He had come for you again. You’d had some wistful doubt that he wouldn’t, but like always, he’d tracked you down as easily as hunters do footprints in thick snow. He’d followed your trail and bound you with that thick rope of braided hemp he always kept at his side. Evading him was never easy, but you thought you’d gotten away with it this time when you’d found a meager orphanage to cook at. He hated children—you thought he’d never set foot in the place, but reckoning had come for you in the early hours of the morning, with a dark shadow moving in the corner of the kitchens.

           “You never fuckin’ learn. Maybe this time I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

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