trying on a metaphor

tannertan36

#extradirty
Stranger Things

Andulka
The Bowery Presents
KIROKAZE
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
hello vonnie

titsay
Sweet Seals For You, Always
EXPECTATIONS

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Noah Kahan
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

Kiana Khansmith
Mike Driver
Misplaced Lens Cap

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@unusedangel

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olderbf!shouta aizawa who keeps your relationship private but not a secret.
tw: mdni 18+, smut kinda
olderbf!shota who doesn't keep you a secret but won't outright announce that he is in a relationship. there is probably nothing on the outside that shows that he is in a relationship unless someone gets a glimpse of his phone screen which happens to be a picture of your back with the sunset. a picture taken on your first anniversary, after spending the day exploring a local festival two towns over.
olderbf!shota who has been dating you for a little over three years now and despite that, only a few people know he is in a relationship. only a handful of people (nemuri, hizashi, maybe even nezu) know who you are. the rest has zero idea and thinks that he's been single for his whole life. would probably view him as the kind of man who "doesn't have time for relationships".
olderbf!shota who originally gets found out because he's been walking around with a slight afterglow that doesn't pass under the sharp eyes of nemuri. she can always tell when a man is getting laid and after seeing him with constant afterglow for a couple of days, she knows something is up with him.
olderbf!shota who introduces you to hizashi and nemuri with a hand wrapped around your waist as a way to ground you. he knows you were somewhat nervous meeting his friends but he knows that at the end of the day, they won't care as long as he is happy. they know he deserves it after everything he's been through.
olderbf!shota whos relationship gets outed to the rest of the staff because of hizashi's big mouth. while he makes a show of being annoyed, he ultimately doesn't care. he's not ashamed of you or being with you. he just likes the privacy of his relationship with you. everything about you is his and his alone.
olderbf!shota who loves just having you to himself. he will go anywhere you want and if someone catches him in public with you, they wouldn't even dare come close, especially after seeing his eyes flash red from afar, a signal for them to not come closer. he hates when the time he spends with you is interrupted, especially since he is so busy most of the time with work.
olderbf!shota's only sign that he has a partner is the scratches that line his back, completely hidden by his uniform, and the countless videos in a secret album of you bouncing on his cock and of your tummy bulging from the sheer size of him pounding into your sweet pussy every night.
Aizawa and cat(I just noticed this is the first time I ever draw sensei) Btw this piece will be featured as a photo in one of our illustrations in our MHA fanbook “Sun-filled”(pre-order is up, you can check my blog or vitsit our website tamotaro.com/global-store/ for more details)
𝜗ৎ⊹ ࣪ ˖ | 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐞.
╰┈➤ 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿!𝗳𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲!𝗮𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
ᝰ.ᐟ | 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖺 𝖺𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗐𝖺 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. ⤷ 18+ 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧! 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜!!
ᝰ.ᐟ | 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 | 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 | 18+ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 | 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼 & 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿
𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡 18+ 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧! ⤷ 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡, 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜!!
𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘁.
𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗢𝗬 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗦! 𖹭.ᐟ
Don't you love it when Aizawa smiles and he just goes:
Bc i do

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angsty slutty second-chance sex with aizawa where he's talking to your pussy more than he talks to you - "she still like it when i touch her like this?"
Choso whimpers so loud
It’s embarrassing, really. The walls in the dorms at Jujutsu High are thin as hell, and everyone knows it. You told him to keep it down tonight even pressed your palm over his mouth the first time he started whimpering. But the second you sank down on his cock, all that self-control evaporated.
Choso’s eyes roll back that instant, “F-fuck—ngh— ahh—!” His hips twitch up involuntarily as your walls clench around him. He’s so deep like this, thick cock stretching you open.
You lean down, lips brushing his ear. “Choso, baby… quieter,” you whisper, even as you roll your hips again,
He shakes his head frantically, black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “C-can’t—ahh—you feel too good—nghh!” The moan that follows is downright pornographic, loud enough that you’re pretty sure Satoru’s room is right down the hall and he’s definitely hearing every single second of this.
Choso’s face is flushed dark red, eyes half-lidded and glassy, tears already clinging to his lashes. Every time you clench around his thick cock he lets out another whimper. “Shit—Choso—Shut up,” you whisper as you slap a hand over his mouth, but he just moans louder against your palm.
His hips jerk up involuntarily, fucking into you with shallow, needy thrusts that make the bed creak. “Mmmph—please—don’t stop—” he mumbles against your fingers, voice muffled but still way too loud. You feel his cock throb hard inside you, already leaking, already so close even though you’ve barely started.
You ride him harder, grinding down in tight circles, trying to keep your own moans quiet while you shush him. “Shh—shh, baby, quiet—fuck, you gotta be quiet—” But it’s useless. The whimper that comes out of him this time is even louder, cracking high and pretty as his thrusts meet yours
You pry one hand off his mouth just long enough to grab a pillow and shove it over his face. “Bite this,” you whisper urgently, bouncing faster, the wet slap of skin on skin still echoing way too clearly in the tiny room. “Come on, Choso, muffle it—”
He obeys for half a second—teeth sinking into the fabric with a desperate groan—but then you clench around him again and the pillow does nothing. “Ahh—nghh—can’t—too good—hah—!”
His thighs tremble underneath you, hips snapping up harder as he gets closer. You can feel him pulsing, “Choso—quiet—fuck, they’re gonna hear you—”
Too late.
Choso’s whole body seizes, back arching hard as he cums so loud the pillow is fuckin’ useless. He keeps whimpering through every pulse with little “ah—ah—ah—” sounds that get louder instead of quieter as his hips jerk up in sloppy thrusts.
You finally lift the pillow from his mouth and he immediately lets out one last weak, satisfied whine, nuzzling into your neck
You were both so fucked.
Choso whimpers so loud… and the whole damn dorm probably just heard exactly how good you make him feel.
a/n: hnghh I feel like a horny slut on my period damnnit
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨Baby Soft୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
dad!aizawa shota x helpless!abused!reader
dead dove do not eat
Wrote this as a comforting bedtime story, fully self indulgent. Don’t like don’t read lolol minors dni.
Never in a million years did Shota Aizawa think he’d be called in the middle of teaching a class to be told by police he had a daughter he didn’t know about, that was in the hospital. Never in a million years could Aizawa imagine himself as a father. Not at all.
Shota didn’t think about anything other than you from the time he got the news until now. He stood in the doorway of your hospital room, which was much too full of equipment he had never seen before. A large medical crib stood stark in the back-middle of the room, underneath a large window.
Curled up in the furthest corner of that crib, was you. All of your belongings consisted of only a soft pink blanket and a pacifier, all supplied by the hospital. The entirety of your belongings were in that crib. In your mouth, in your grip, which was still on such high alert even in sleep.
He barely had time to read through the whole email the police forwarded to him about your official case on the ride here. From what he did read, all of it was horrific. Internal bruising, broken bones that would never heal correctly, starvation, your complete and total regression bringing you all the way back to infancy. One you’d never grow out of as far as the specialists could tell.
Shota walked a bit closer, looking down at the bundle under the blankets. Even though your file said ‘18 years old’, you certainly didn’t look that way. Of course you didn’t, after everything that was done to you. It’s surprising you survived at all after the whole ordeal.
Medical tubes snaked underneath the blanket, her IV drip taped to her inner arm, a temporary feeding tube, a pulse reader on her thin finger. She had managed to maneuver the pink blanket over her head. Intentionally or not, Shota wasn’t sure. Did she have the capacity to think about shame or hiding? Probably not. Fear, definitely. Even the weakest creatures could feel fear.
Shota stared for a long, long time at you. Noticing the diaper, mentally processing the pacifier in her mouth that she suckled on anxiously, even in sleep. Trying to match up his features to you. The curve of your nose, the shape of your eyes, even if he couldn’t see them clearly right now. The way your body was curled so tight as if you wanted to fold your existence away and disappear forever.
Trying to dig up any memory he might have of what your mother could’ve looked like was a puzzle in itself. He was so busy in his youth that a casual hookup on the side wasn’t anything new. But was he really that reckless as a teen? What an idiot. He had hero work to do then, and now in his later life, teaching and heroics were the only thing on his mind. At least, they were before he knew about you.
A knock on the door snapped Shota out of his trance. His grip on your crib tight. Knuckles white.
A nurse came in, smiling with a soft sense of pity towards his whole situation. Shota knew she was trying to be kind, but how could she smile at a time like this?
The nurse lowered her head slightly before raising it back, “Aizawa-san. I apologize for coming in so suddenly. Our team wanted to get the paperwork out of the way, so you could start bonding with her. Pardon the intrusion.”
Shota sat down at the chair nearby, filling out paper after paper, line after line. So many words he couldn’t bother to read. Couldn’t if he tried. He only wanted to get you out of here. Somewhere safe and soft.
The nurses gently and politely explained that you would never thrive. Perhaps even die within the next few years. You operated at the level of an infant, and couldn’t do much.
Shota understood. He knew you wouldn’t thrive. He also knew with all his heart and soul, he owed you his life. He hadn’t been around for a single minute of your life. He’d been protecting other children, putting his life on the line for everyone but the little girl who needed him the most.
You finally woke up at around 7:00pm. Snuffling anxiously as nurses changed you. Nothing good ever happened when people touched you.
The nurses whispered soft praises as they adjusted the tabs, “It’s okay, sweetheart. All clean.. there we go..”
The nurses finished up, smiling down at you after you were warm again. Soft but scratchy socks were pulled up on your feet. Your skin ached as they adjusted the IV needle line for what felt like the thousandth time (it had only happened twice).
Your suckling on your pacifier growing anxious and worried. It was getting dark, your blankie wasn’t quite enough to keep the chill off from being so close to the window, your tummy was hurting. Your body didn’t feel as empty as usual. You didn’t know why. But it was off. Everything was off and everything was getting scarier as the room grew darker.
But none of that mattered. Nobody was going to help you.
It was better to go back to sleep, close your eyes. Be grateful for what was done. That you weren’t on the floor for hours until your skull ached, you weren’t dehydrated to the point of passing out multiple times, you weren’t—
“Hey. You’re awake. That’s good.”
A man was standing over you. Black hair messily falling to his shoulders. Stubble. Narrow and uninterested eyes. You’ve never seen him before.
Your eyes darted anxiously around the room, before you shut your eyes completely. Squeezing them shut. Anything he was going to would be over soon, soon, soon—
But he laughed softly, gently pulling your pink blankie that was so soft up to your shoulders, “Don’t close your eyes on me, sweet girl. I’ve been waiting to meet you. For a long time. I’m your dad. Shota. My name is Shota Aizawa.”
You didn’t really understand what he was saying. His voice was kind, however. That you did notice. There was no yelling, no wandering hands. None of that. With that information processing in your mind, you finally opened your eyes again, only giving yourself a slight look before looking past his shoulder at the ceiling. Suckling on your binky to calm your nerves.
Shota was just looking at you. Blinking slowly, “We’ll be going home soon. I had to get a few things for you but they'll be ready as soon as we get home.”
Exhausted by the days affairs, after being transported to strange and cold rooms all day, you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Even if you wanted so badly to hold your soft blankie in your weak hands just a bit longer before it got taken away. Before the soft surface beneath you that cradled your sore muscles and bruises so kindly was no longer allowed and you were banished back to the dark corner you’d known so well for as long as you could remember. It was all you remembered clearly. Everything else was a blur.
Shota watched your eyes flutter closed, your body curling back up into that defensive posture, and gently turned the main light off, opting to only keep the bedside lamp on. Monitors continued to beep, the soft suckling noises emitted from your crib, the occasional snuffle coming from you.
Nurses worked quietly around the room to pack a bag for Shota to take home. Rash cream, a few more pairs of socks, and a few pairs of mittens.
Shota hasn’t felt this powerless in a long time. Not since high school. He had the money, it’s not like he spent that much on anything. In the last hour he had spent close to ¥793,700 on supplies. Diapers (yes all of the cute patterns were necessary), lots of pillows for you, soft clothes for all occasions, gentle soaps and lotions. It didn’t feel like he was bringing home a teenager. In the small part of his brain that could still think positively, at least he got to start from the ground up. That was something. It had to be.
Shota was glad he’d been working out so much even as he got older. He could pick you up with ease. They put mild sedation medication in your IV so you wouldn’t panic from being moved so much.
Shota finally got you back home at 12:30am. The sedation was still in full swing. He gently laid you down on his large floor futon of which he put so many soft blankets and pillows it felt more like a cloud than any mattress. Cosleeping would be best for right now. So he could get you everything you needed with no delay. You’ve waited long enough.
When you woke up again, you were on another soft surface. More blankies all around you. The softest pillows. A warm pad was over your tummy, keeping the chills off. The medical stuff was off. Your hands covered in fluffy cotton mittens.Your binky was still in your mouth. Nothing had been taken. You scrunched your legs up, whimpering softly— but starting to suckle on your binky to keep the noise down. You were so hungry.
Shota wasn’t far. Just at the desk in the corner of the room, grading some papers. His focus unequally divided the whole time while you were asleep. He noticed the lines of worry on your face, even if you tried to hide it.
Shota walked over to the bed, squatting down, his movements slow and steady, “Goodmorning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” His voice a little deep from lack of use. He gently moved the hair out of your eyes.
You wouldn’t risk looking him in the eye, but your tummy was hurting sharp pains spiking on your middle. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. You scrunched up a little more, starting to hyperventilate slightly, trying to hide. Scared of the strange man. The feelings, the new room. Everything.
Shota didn’t let you fuss for long, “I know, baby. Daddy knows. You’re hungry. It’s okay, sweet girl. Shh, shh.” He picked you up, so gently, settling you against him. Shota himself never knew he could speak to anyone as gently as he did with you. He knew he had to be gentle. Nothing but gentle.
Shota walked with you to the kitchen, starting the bottle warmer. Just gently bouncing you while the timer ticked.
Your body froze up immediately, eyes wide, suckles anxious. Your hands gripping the strange man’s shirt, pushing would be no use. That never helped before. It wouldn’t help now. You couldn’t relax against him. Every cell in your body telling you to flea any way you could, to get away from him and get to safety—
Shota took your pacifier out of your mouth, replacing it so quickly with the soft bottle nipple that there was no time for panic, just instinct. The milk was warm, filling your tummy quickly, the pain starting to fade. This was the first time in a long time you could remember being cared for in a way that made the pain go away so quickly.
So focused on the milk, you didn’t feel the man— daddy…? Shota..? You weren’t sure— taking you back to the soft and warm place down the hall. He sat with you in his lap, making sure the bottle was tilted correctly.
It was so hard staying awake, at any point. There was no pain aside from the sore feeling that had always radiated through every section of your body. Even that was starting to fade. Little by little. The room was warm. Daddy was making sure only the softest of blankies were on you while you drank. Even putting the special warm pad over your tummy.
Shota gently made soft shushing noises at you, “Shh, shh. Go to sleep, baby. You can sleep all you want. Daddy is here.” He slowly took the bottle from you, it was finished. You got to drink all of the warm milk. All for you.
You lulled between sleep and consciousness for a long while. Until the bright sun of the day faded into a soft orange and pink, the room grew darker, even then, there was a soft nightlight plugged in. Keeping the darkness away from you.
Daddy was there the whole time. He didn’t let you get cold. When your diaper was wet and uncomfortable, he changed you. Even lathering on the cream that made everything feel better. No rough cloth against your legs for hours while you sat in it. He made sure the blankies were always on you.
“I hope you feel safe. Even if you can’t show it, sweetheart.” Daddy whispered to you, placing the softest of kisses on your forehead.
You tried to look at him. Right in the eye. You couldn’t. It was too scary, and too soon. You wanted to. You wanted to see who was keeping you warm and safe in ways nobody had ever done before. To search his face and remember it forever. You figured it would be better to suckle on your binky. Enjoying the comforts and kindness that was so new but so very exciting.
Daddy picked you up again later, just holding you on his lap, rubbing your back gently.
“Bathtime, sweetheart. Time to get you all clean and ready for bedtime.” Daddy said softly against your hair as he stood up, starting to walk.
You weren’t afraid as much this time. Daddy had brought good things to you. Kind things. He made your tummy stop hurting, he laid you down in soft places. He didn’t take your stuff.
The bath was different. Daddy placed you in a cradle of some sort, the water was warm. You don’t remember water ever being a long term activity. A quick spray was all you needed.
But Daddy was gentle with you. Cupping the water and making sure it didn’t hit you too hard, the soap didn’t burn anywhere on your body.
After the bath, Daddy made sure you were in soft pajamas. A soft diaper that had animals on it. Always whispering praise. Even if you couldn’t look at him.
“There we go. All ready for bedtime.” He said quietly, gently patting your tummy with his hand, using the other one to cover you up with all the same soft blankies as before.
Your binky was safely put back into your mouth. Everything was soft. Nothing was sore. Your tummy was still full from the earlier warm milk. The room was dark but it wasn’t scary. Daddy was right there, cuddling you. Holding you close. Your blankie was smushed between you and daddy, your soft mittens enveloping your hands, your cat print socks keeping your toes warm.
You were starting to fade again. Daddy made you feel so safe and comfortable. Your suckling grew slower, fewer in-between as you tried snuggling closer. Being close to Daddy meant good things would happen. You wanted to be as close as possible. Forever.
Daddy kissed you again on the forehead, “I love you, sweetheart. Have the sweetest dreams. I’ll be right here.” He whispered softly against your ear, pulling you just a bit closer so not a single horror could slip between the cracks of his dedicated protection.
You let your eyes close. The feeling of daddy’s kisses was the final cherry on top. Finally, you would be safe. Daddy would be there. Always and forever.
If anyone needs me I’ll be at the gunshow…
*gnawing on him*
No thoughts, only Eraserhead
(Vigilantes season 2, episode 8)
▶︎︎ First Time? (starring . virgin!fratkuna)
synopsis . When you get paired with your campus frat’s resident asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin! Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. content . afab!reader, virginity loss, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn with a lil plot, teasing, taunting, filth, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, creampie, confessions, cum eating/making him taste himself, piercings, reader’s pretty blunt, somewhat of a size kink, Sukuna’s kinda soft here and there, slightly dom!reader, etc.
word count . 10.5k | author’s note: this is a combined repost from kamitv! i want all my works on one account so if this looks familiar, that’s why. banner art by Rororogi Mogera.
Who would’ve thought?
Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.
He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He'd claim not to "do parties" and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?
And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick—it’s like some well-known campus fact about the guy! Cosigned by his closet frat brothers, too.
So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?
Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.

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⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨Like a Prayer୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Edward Nashton x Reader oneshot // unfinished // posted as is
Edward was bound to the bed in front of you, his hands handcuffed to the metal frame of the bed; his wrists red from irritation of the cuffs. He had his Riddler mask on, but apart from that he was completely exposed in front of you. His desperate cock dripped precum onto his stomach, the tip red and swollen from being denied for hours on end. His legs weren’t tied, but he kept his legs open anyway.
“How’s it feel, Edward? For someone to use your tricks on you. You really thought a creep like you was the worst out there? You were wrong.” You spat as you slapped him. It couldn’t have hurt that much through the mask, “Hmm, the big and bad Riddler who killed the mayor couldn’t even take advantage of the girl he was stalking. Pathetic.”
“(Y/N)… I already said I was sorry… please just touch me already…” He whined, his voice semi muffled from his mask.
“Why should I? I should just record you and post a video of you begging on your website. Then what are your fans gonna think of you? That you’re nothing but a whiny little bitch who can’t get over his past.” You trailed your index finger down his stomach, stopping right at his waist.
He struggled against the handcuffs, the metal bedframe clanging against them, pulling and yanking on them, “Shut the fuck up! You don’t understand SHIT about me!”
She took her hand and stroked just the top of his pathetic dick, her hand getting sticky with his precum, “You’re not in the position to argue with me right now. Are you, bitch?” She took her finger and twirled lazy, slow circles around his tip.
He bucked up against her hand helplessly and erratically, whining pathetically against her touch.
“Are you gonna be a good boy for me? Maybe if you calm down I’ll take the cuffs off, can you do that for me?” Her voice was slow and tantalizing. She took her hand away, leaving him to buck his hips against nothing.
“Y-yes I’ll be good- I am calm.” He panted.
She took his mask off, revealing the pathetic man underneath. Drool flowing out of the side of his mouth, his face flushed, nose bleeding. His eyes hazed with desperation.
She took his glasses off of the mask, putting it on him, “You said you’d be good the last time and you tried to pin me down, did you forget?” She climbed on top of him, sitting herself on his dick, his precum getting on her underwear.
“I promise I’ll be good this time- I promise, I promise, I promise-” She cupped his face gently, slightly lifting his face to look closer at him. You trailed your tongue along his nosebleed, cleaning his face.
“You’re disgusting, you know that right? A pathetic virgin who gets so overwhelmed by anything sexual that his nose starts bleeding. You probably haven’t been touched by a single woman in your whole life, how old are you again?” She teased, letting go of his face and starting to rub against his dick slowly.
“T-thirty-seven…” He said breathlessly, barely being able to speak as you rubbed against him.
“Gross.” She spat.
You stopped grinding against him briefly to take off your underwear. You started rubbing your bare cunt against him, your wetness and his gross precum mixing together.
You scooted up, putting his tip right at your entrance, “How bad do you want it, whore?” you cupped his face gently, rubbing your thumbs on his cheeks.
“So bad- please, please (Y/N)...” He whined bucking his hips up against you, drool was leaking out of his mouth, his precum smearing against your slit as you grinded against him.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨Puppy Eyes୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Hybrid!Aizawa // Aizawa is a 39yr old puppyboy (puppyman??) here // Reader is 21 // UNFINISHED!! read at your own risk lolol I literally just copied and pasted from my doc as is //
Chapter 1
After hitting that guaranteed milestone in your post-grad life of being tired and burnt out, you decide maybe it’s time to bring some excitement into your life. A pet- perhaps.
Today, after work, you sat down under your kotatsu, warming yourself up after the grimy walk home in the cold winter rain, looking at puppy boy sites.
Not too many stuck out to you, especially after the 12 hour shift at the office today. This was more of a chore than anything. Changing the trajectory of your life takes effort though- right? Even in your routine.
Sipping on your now lukewarm coffee, you start writing down a few budget and necessities on a small notepad for your new pet that you’d eventually be adopting.
A coworker of yours has a puppy boy- when you spoke to her today she said they require about the same things as a regular dog. Perfect.
After scrolling for a bit, getting to the 27th page out of 100 for the website you were looking through when you saw a puppy boy that stood out to you. Puppy man, really. An older, tired looking man stared back at you on the screen, unkept stubble, the blackest eyes you’ve ever seen, with dark black hair reaching just a bit past his shoulders.
LISTING:
Shota Aizawa
Age: 39
Likes:
Napping
Coffee flavored treats
The color yellow
Milk
Scarves
Puzzle games
Hates:
Loud noises
Irrationality
Inconsistency
Unnecessary haircuts
NOTICE:
Due to rehome history, he may be euthanized soon. Looking to adopt? Reach out ASAP.
You clicked through a few more minor details on his listing, his medical records, his abnormally lengthy rehome list, and his location. His last home was 5 months ago. It stated the reason for rehoming was that he was too ‘difficult’ whatever that might’ve entailed.
You took a look around your small apartment, visualizing where you could put a large dog bed, bowls, his collar, leashes. Hooks over the door, bowls by the wall in the kitchen, dog bed at the foot of your bed. Great. Perfect- really.
He was located about a 3 hour train ride away- you already took a mental breath aa you were sending the email to the shelter he was at- he’d probably maul you before you got off the train platform for how far away you were.
It’s been 3 days since you sent the email and adoption deposit. After work, you’ve been slowly accumulating supplies. Kibble, a few chew toys, his yellow bowls- a few other odds and ends. You reserved a corner in the spare bedroom for his heat cycle room- if he even had a heat anymore? Do older puppy boys go into heat?
Today was the day to pick him up. After work, you waited for an hour in the pouring hail at the train station downtown, paying one expensive fee for a ticket to Aizu.
The train ride was uneventful. You mainly worked on getting Shota’s nametag onto the d-ring of his yellow leather collar. It was pretty much empty by the time you got off at the Aizu station. It was snowing when you stepped onto the train platform, a light flurry dusting your boots and umbrella.
You navigated through the streets- almost slipping on ice an unfortunate amount of times until you successfully made it to the shelter, tucked away in an alleyway. The only marking of it being a hybrid shelter was a small discreet sign next to the door: Aizu Animals.
After getting inside, you tapped your boots on the entryway, clearing the snow off of them and placed your umbrella in the designated holder. A young girl at the desk greeted you.
“Hey! Welcome! Do you have a reservation?” The girl smiled at you, pointing to the sign on the wall- tapping it with her fingernail: no appointment, no service.
You nodded, walking over to the desk she was sitting at, showing her your email confirmation, “I’m here to pick up Shouta. 6pm appointment.”
She nodded in acknowledgement, standing up, “That’s great! Follow me and we can get started with the paperwork and all the official stuff.”
She led you down a long hallway lined with large cages. Naked puppy boys laid down on their mats or playing with toys. You were led all the way to the back and behind a curtained section of the building.
There he was. The only one in the room, in a cage smaller than the others were. The cage barely had enough room to crouch. His nametag on the side panel: Shota Aizawa.
He was curled up in a ball, black ears flat against his skull, tail tucked between his thighs. His ears didn’t perk up at the sound of the curtains rustling. His gaze stayed stone straight on the cinder block wall in front of him. There were a few bruises on his back, and a long, deep cut along his left shoulder- seemingly untreated. He had a pair of sweatpants on- nothing else.
His cage didn’t have a mat. Just 2 bowls, one with water, the other with a beige oatmeal-ish sludge that went untouched.
You stared at the attendant for a minute as she stood next to the cage, smiling at you, “Is there a reason he’s in this room? He doesn’t look too happy.” You crouched down to get a better look at him, “Why’s he all banged up?”
The attendant was silent for a second before she took a slow exhale, “He has a hard time- with most things.” As if that explained anything.
You moved out of the way so the attendant could unlock the front panel of his cage. Shota didn’t move.
“C’mon, bud, your new owner is here- we got to get this paperwork done. We close in an hour.” She gave his ear a gentle tug.
Shota immediately snapped at her, his canine teeth glaring in the sharp light of the room, “Get your fucking hands off me!” He snarled.
He pushed past the attendant, who fell onto her ass onto the concrete ground.
He crawled out of the cage, his joints cracking as he unfolded his body- he wasn’t very tall- only about 6’0 feet or so.
He looked down at you, lifting his eyebrow, “You?” He crossed his arms, unmoving.
You sighed, laughing sheepishly, “Yea- saw you online,” you nodded, turning to the attendant who was still on the ground- who was visibly fuming.
The attendant just ended up standing. She walked past them both, “Miss, let’s head to the paperwork area. Get everything set up.” She gritted through her teeth.
Shota followed behind you, his ears still flat against his head, tail tight around his thigh.
You both were led into a small office in the back of the shelter, Shota leaned against the wall near the paperwork area, his tired eyes gazing over your form and the mountain of paperwork piled onto the table.
The attendant went over the warnings, and his usual schedule- schedule is a strong word.
“His bathroom breaks were usually 3 times a day. 7am, 3pm, 9pm. He hasn’t had a heat cycle in almost 5 years. Even with medical intervention.” The attendant read off a list, marking things down as she said them.
Shota growled at the attendant, “You wouldn’t let me go any other time.”
The attendant ignored him, continuing, “He’s aggressive, house training is still in the works. Does not get along with other puppy boys, very territorial, he tolerates children.”
She finished off, passing the legal documents across the table, “Just sign here and you’ll both be good to go.”
You signed all the paperwork, and finally, you were free to go. The attendant left you both alone in the room.
Shota was still leaning against the wall, still looking at you with those dead black eyes of his.
You held up the collar you had brought. A bright yellow leather collar that had his first name engraved on the front of a bone shaped tag: Shouta.
“Can you wear this for me? At least until we get back? Laws- stuff like that.” You started approaching him, “It’s quite a long way home.”
Shouta’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the word home, but he bent his neck down slightly, letting you clasp the collar on.
By the time everything was settled, you put a scarf on him- one you packed into your purse before you left the house this morning. And a leash- a black leash.
When you finally got to the train station, Shota had his arms crossed, eyes drifting uninterestedly at the tourist storefront shops tucked away in the corner and the train route map framed to the cinderblock wall in the middle of the platform.
You gently tugged his leash, leading him to a grass patch in the furthest corner of the station, a puppy boy rest area.
“Do you have to go before we get on the train? There’s no puppy pads on this train line. It’s about 3 hours.” You said hesitantly as you stood in front of the grass pad, fidgeting with the strap of his leash. Another puppy boy and his mistress were finishing up.
Shouta’s eyes darted from you to the grass pad, “It’s dirty.” He averted his gaze.
“What?” You deadpanned, brows furrowed, “It’s a regular pad? All stations have these.”
He looked at you and then jerked his chin im the direction of the now fleeting mistress and her puppy boy.
“He pissed on it. You can smell his rut from over here. Precum is all over the spot he pissed at.” He spat, pointing to the corner where there was in fact piss, obviously, and a clear string of pre on the grass turf.
You sighed, “Clean freak wasn’t in your ‘about me’ section.” You rubbed your temples with your fingers, “I guess you’ll have to wait until we get back to my apartment.”
Then the train announcer called for their train back to Musutafu, you both boarded, taking a seat near the back end of the train. Shota settled down on the floor.
The first hour went fine, Shota was curled in on himself, asleep on the floor in front of your seat at your feet. You noticed he wrapped his scarf tighter around himself. His tail was limp against the floor, relaxed.
Shota woke up at around the 2 ½ hour timestamp of the train ride. He stayed on the floor, looking up at you. Observing you.
You looked down at him, “Do you- uh- like being called anything? Is Shota fine?” You kept your hands planted firmly on your lap.
“Puppy.” He said flatly, staring into your eyes, his ears lifting slightly, no longer glued to his skull.
You nodded, “Okay, puppy.” You offered him a small smile.
He seemed to like that enough. He curled back in on himself, just laying there. Eyes half lidded, staring at whatever treasures were left under the seat.
After you got off at your station, he let you lead him along down your dimly lit street and up the steps to your apartment.
You unclipped his leash, his tail swayed slightly, not quite an excited wag- but an aware one.
You pointed to the door down the hallway, “Your nesting pile is in there. Wasn’t sure if you preferred privacy. But the lady at the shelter said you haven’t had one in almost 5 years.”
“Hn..” he mumbled, uninterested in going into further detail.
You kept walking forward through your apartment until you got to the kitchen, “Your bowls are right there. I was hoping we could go out tomorrow to get some kibble you’d like more.” You pointed to the corner, where two yellow bowls were filled, one with kibble, the other with water.
Continuing on, you walked to your bedroom. His large yellow dog bed was at the foot of your bed, with a small basket of toys next to it, “Your bed and a few chew toys.”
You motioned over to the dresser in the corner of the room, “There’s a few sets of sweatpants and sweatshirts in the dresser. I got all black- I wasn’t sure how fond you were of the color yellow outside of objects.”
You smiled softly at him, “Not much else to it. Just let me know if you need anything. I know puppy boys are a responsibility- so don’t hesitate to wake me up in the middle of the night if you need anything.”
Shota nodded slightly before settling in on the dog bed, head resting on his arms, tail now wagging lazily even though his face was stark with utter indifference.
You glanced at the analog clock on the wall: 9:17pm.
You squatted down in front of his dog bed, “Puppy, let’s try going outside? You haven’t been at all.” You said gently, your hand hovering over his head.
He pushed his head up to meet your hand, his tired eyes half lidded as he let you pet him, “Cold outside.” He stated flatly, his tail thumping softly on his bed.
You sighed, standing up and grabbing his leash off the hook of the door, “I know it’s cold- but you can’t just hold it all night. It’s not good for you.”
Shota just blinked at you, narrowing his eyes as he glanced away uninterested, “I’ve held it longer.” He mumbled.
Walking over to the small dresser, you pulled out a simple black sweatshirt, “Let’s put this on, yeah? It’s nice and soft for you and you won’t get cold.”
You bent down in front of him, gently easing his scarf off and sliding the sweatshirt over him, before putting his scarf back on him. He didn’t protest.
You clipped the leash onto the d-clip of his collar, gently tugging him up. You grabbed your umbrella from the bin by the door before going outside. He got up, following you outside into the rain.
You led him down the steps of your apartment building to the small patch of grass, then around to the back where a more secluded area was. A dark blue fire hydrant was seemingly abandoned in the back corner of the property, covered in vines and plant overgrowth.
You led him over to the corner, “Took you to the back because I know how you are with germs. I believe there’s only one other puppy boy in the building. Hizashi and his mistress Nemuri- so there’s no competition for this fire hydrant.” You laughed softly.
You held your umbrella over him while he tugged his pants down, letting his dick spring free. He wasn't wearing any boxers. You couldn’t help but notice the thick trail of black hair from his navel to his base. He was big- easily 6 inches soft- an even easier 9 inches hard.
He spread his legs apart slightly, aiming right at the top of the fire hydrant. His piss stream was louder than the rain- he had been holding it for awhile, clearly.
When he was finished, he didn’t shake off the remaining droplets of piss dripping out of his slit, he turned around, his dick still in his grip.
He blinked at you with a stubborn determination set in his jaw, “Clean it.”
You furrowed your eyebrows together slightly, a small flush creeping up your neck, “What? You can just shake it off-” you stammered, still getting soaked by the rain, while he was dry under the umbrella.
Shota shook his head, taking a step closer to you, “Clean it. Shaking it is dirty. I’m not an animal.” he deadpanned at you.
You looked around frantically as if a container of wipes was going to magically appear in your hands, “I don’t have anything on me- can’t I clean you when we’re back inside?” you pleaded.
Shota shook his head again, getting even closer, “Then use your tongue- I’m not going back inside with piss dripping down my leg!” He snarled at you, showing his teeth, his ears flat against his skull.
You sighed, throwing up your free hand slightly in surrender, “Okay, puppy, alright.”
He almost immediately mellowed out when you called him ‘puppy’. His ears perked back up, tail going back to wagging slowly..
You handed him the umbrella. He held it in his free hand, holding the base of his dick in the other hand.
You got down on your knees, he held his dick up to your mouth, waiting.
You licked a slow and hesitant strip along his tip, the tangy salt taste of piss going along your tastebuds. You gagged slightly before digging your nails into your palm. After licking a few more times, making sure no more piss was leaking out of him- you pushed yourself back up onto your feet, wiping the mud off of your jeans with your hands.
You took a long exhale, just staring at him as he pulled his pants back up. He was completely dry- you however- were soaked.
“Did people keep giving you up because you’re high maintenance, puppy?” You sighed as you took the umbrella back from him, starting to lead him back up the steps.
His ears flattened down on his head, crossing his arms, “I don’t know. I’m older and I don’t like being dirty. I guess that’s just too high of a standard for some people.” He said flatly, “I haven’t had a heat cycle, either. So I can’t be a breeding stud.”
When you both got back inside you changed into soft and dry pajamas.
Now, you worked tediously on cleaning and bandaging the cut along his back. You were sitting in his dog bed with him on the floor.
The soft glow of your bedside lamp was illuminating the room in a soft, intimate glow.
You traced the bandages gently along his back with your index finger, “Was this from the shelter?” You asked softly.
“Hn..” he grunted, “Yea. Punishment.” He didn’t elaborate.
You pushed yourself up off the plush bed, grabbing a brush from your nightstand. You sat back down, starting to gently work the knots out of his hair.
“For what, puppy? If you don’t mind me asking.” You said softly as you continued to brush.
A slight flush creeped up his neck, “Accident.” He said flatly.
“Told them I had to go. They told me to wait like the other guys- then put me in the confinement cage room after I pissed on the floor.” He gritted through his teeth, “They only let you go out 3 times a day- on the schedule.”
Shota kept his gaze down while you brushed his hair, staying quiet, preparing for disgust or disappointment. It never came. You just kept gently brushing his hair until the knots were out.
“I’m sorry, puppy.” You said gently as you put the brush down on the floor next to his dog bed.
You nodded, “Never feel guilty or anything if you need to go. In the middle of the night, early morning, anytime. Just let me know.”
Pushing yourself up, you put your hairbrush back in your nightstand before climbing into your bed and getting under the covers.
“Goodnight, puppy. Wake me if you need anything.” You whispered.
The lamp got turned off, you rolled over to face the wall, falling asleep almost instantly from all the energy spent running around Japan today.
Shota watched you in the dark for a few moments before getting comfortable on his stomach, laying down on the plush dog bed.
His eyes fluttered shut. For the first time in a while, he was comfortable, warm, and clean. He hopes it continues to stay this way. Tomorrow is a new day. For once, he isn’t worried about a single thing.
Chapter 2
The next day, you woke up bright and early to Shota poking your face, standing over you. His hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, loose strands framing his face, illuminated by the morning light filtered through the blinds.
“Good morning, puppy. You okay..?” you asked, yawning, stretching out in your bed.
“Bathroom. Take me outside.” He said flatly, poking you again on your cheek with his index finger. He already had his leash in hand and connected to his collar, shoving it into your open palm.
You pushed yourself off from your bed, sliding on your slippers, “Okay, puppy. Let’s go.” You said softly as you pulled him to the door- quickly grabbing a sheet of paper towel from the counter before you pulled the door shut behind you.
You took him to the back of the complex to the same fire hydrant he went on last night, waiting until he was done before you wiped him off, gently.
“You remembered." He said, pulling his sweatpants back up, pulling the string tight.
You nodded, smiling softly at him, “I really would prefer to not lick your dick every time you piss, you know?”
He didn’t say anything, following behind you back up the steps to your apartment. You took off his leash, hanging it up on the hook over the door.
“Are you hungry?” You asked down the hall as you headed into your bedroom to get dressed and brush your hair, “I have your kibble, I can also get some chicken for you if you can wait a bit longer?”
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨Escort!Aizawa୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Aizawa, but as an escort. Crybaby + Pick-me!Reader sorry not sorry. <3
Aizawa has been poor most of his life. After he slept through the U.A entrance exams, his life went down hill quite quickly. He spent his spare time working part-time, but his mom was so pissed at him for missing the exam that she kicked him out the second he turned 18. He quickly applied at a host club, exchanging sex work for quick cash, just until he could get stable footing again.
Fast forward to today, a whole body of tattoos and piercings later, he’s 39, and he still works at the low-end host club in the cheap and dangerous red light district with his 2 coworkers, Hizashi Yamada and Tomura Shigaraki. The club is run down, seats are peeling, the liquor is cheap, their manager is stingy— always taking at least 70% of what they make off already low-ball clients. Life isn’t great. It’s lonely and lived on the edge of a poverty cliff. He’s one medical emergency away from being homeless and dying on the streets.
Aizawa was sitting in a corner booth, nursing a cheap whiskey and smoking a cigarette. It was 3am. His shift started an hour ago. No clients have come in. None for Hizashi or Tomura, either.
Tomura was scratching at his neck and playing on his D.S at the bar, Hizashi came over to Aizawa, sliding into his booth, getting uncomfortably close. He had a stack of papers in his hand. The outside clients who wanted the hosts to come to them.
“Aizawa, my man! How are you doing on this slow evening?” Hizashi beamed, his voice always a decibel too loud. He started sorting through the papers. 3 piles, one for each of them.
Aizawa grunted in response, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Doing the same as every night.” He said flatly, not interested in elaborating.
Hizashi hummed mindlessly while he sorted through the papers— he stopped dead in his tracks when a client's request for 5M for 4 hours came through. It was for Aizawa.
“Holy shit— dude this one’s for you!” He shoved the paper in Aizawa’s face, grinning like an idiot.
Aizawa read through the paper. It had an address to one of the high rise complexes in the financial district of the city. About an hour away by train. It didn’t have any personal information on it. The date of request was for tomorrow at 3am.
Aizawa scoffed, pushing the paper back to Hizashi across the table, “Do you take me for a fool? This has ‘scam’ written all over it. Idiot. If it’s not a scam, it may as well be a death sentence.”
Aizawa picked his drink back up, sipping his whiskey, and going back to his cigarette.
Hizashi shook his head, pushing the paper back over to him, absolutely insistent, “No, dude. She already directed the money over to you.”
Hizashi rolled his eyes, sighing as he sank back into the booth, “Obviously the greedy pig that we call ‘boss’ already took 70%, but it’s still a lot of money!”
Aizawa opened his bank app on his cracked phone, there it was. $350,000. His expression didn’t change. If anything it made him more weary.
“The money is fine and all. However- what the fuck could this woman actually want from me for 5M? I’m almost 40 and I smell like cigarettes. If she wanted a host she should be renting Keigo. He’s high up on the ranks at that other club. A lot younger, too.” He mumbled the last part, putting his phone down, finishing his drink.
Tomura shouted from over his shoulder at Aizawa, “Maybe she wants you because you’re old, grandpa.” He snickered before turning back to his game.
Hizashi sighed, ignoring Tomura completely, "Whatever that woman wants, you better give her the best dick of your entire life.” He grinned at Aizawa, wiggling his eyebrows at him, “Maybe she’ll become a regular. Good luck.”
The next night, Aizawa showed up to the address. He had a small crossbody bag. It had the basics; lube, condoms, rope, and a pair of handcuffs. He didn’t put on an elaborate charm facade. She gets what she paid for.
The door opened, Aizawa looked at her with tired, half lidded eyes, “Hey, sweetheart. You requested me. Money’s already in my account. Your 5 hours starts now.” He stepped inside, waiting for whatever she wanted from him.
You definitely weren’t what he was expecting. The woman standing in front of him at the door didn’t look like any client he’s had in awhile. Aizawa sighed, absolutely expecting the worst.
You kept your head down, fumbling nervously with her fingers, “Um.. hi.” She stepped back a bit, “Yes, you’re Aizawa, right?” She mumbled softly, not quite meeting his eyes.
Aizawa nodded slightly, “Yea. I’m Shota Aizawa. You paid enough money to call me by my first name. Call me what you want.”
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Aizawa tossed you his crossbody, “Look through these.”
Fumbling with the bag, you ended up dropping it, awkwardly freezing up. A slight blush creeped on your face as you picked it up, handing it back to him hastily.
“I didn’t want to do anything like that-“ she mumbled softly, “I want to do gentle.. slow stuff..” you looked away sheepishly, “Edging.. Kissing.. Stuff like that..”
His eyes widened for just a second, before he went back to his usual unfazed expression.
Aizawa turned around, leaving his bag on the entryway, taking his shoes off.
“Okay. I can be gentle, sweetheart.” He said, starting to walk towards you, gently tilting your chin to look up at him, “Lead the way.”
You nodded quickly, walking him to the back of the penthouse to your bedroom. The blinds were down, the bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate glow in the whole room.
Aizawa didn’t waste any time, stripping his clothes off to reveal the lean muscle of his body. Both his nipples were pierced with silver bars, and he had 3 horizontal piercings along his shaft. He was already hard and ready (probably from the pills he took before he got here).
He looked you up and down before making his way over to you, nice and slow like a predator observing it’s prey– but that wasn’t his role tonight. His only role was to go slow and make you feel good. He’d do exactly that. It’s what you deserved for being such a good client, after all.
He gently started unbuttoning your pajama top, kissing your neck softly, “Don’t be so tense, pretty girl, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he murmured roughly against your neck as he finished unbuttoning your top, trailing kisses down your neck onto your chest.
He unclipped your bra with ease, his dick hard and throbbing against your thigh. Aizawa gently led you backwards onto the bed, laying you down softly. Nudging your legs open with his thigh, he caged you in underneath him, starting to kiss you slowly, taking his time exploring your mouth while you whined underneath him, already soaked and ready.
You fumbled with your pajama pants, trying to pull them down, but his hand gently pried yours away. He pinned both your arms above your head with one hand, shaking his head slightly as he went back to kiss you more.
“We’re taking it slow, sweetheart. It’s what you asked for. Be a good girl and keep your hands still for me.” He whispered against your mouth as he started trailing more kisses downwards. Leaving them along your stomach.
He moved lower down, gently tugging your pants off along with your panties, praising you softly while you arched your hips against his mouth.
“Such a pretty girl, you like this? When I kiss you here?” He placed another feather-light kiss on the inside of your thigh, slowly trailing upwards to your weeping cunt.
You nodded, whimpering softly, spreading your legs more, “Y-yes sir– when you kiss me–”
Holding your hips down, he finally moved his attention to your cunt. Kissing your clit softly as first, trailing slow licks along your core, making you whimper and grind your hips against his mouth.
You gently knotted your hands through his hair, “S-Shota– I can’t–” you were so close– just a bit more–
Aizawa pulled away, gently rubbing slow circles over your hips, your slick coating the stubble on his chin. He gazed up at you with half lidded eyes, “Not yet, sweetheart. You paid for 5 hours. You’ll get all 5 hours. 4 more to go.”
He pushed himself up, lining his dick up to you, holding your hips for support as he pushed inside. Inch by agonizing inch stretching you, the piercings only overstimulating you even more.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so tight.” He grinned at you lazily as he finally pushed all the way inside in one brutal push, taking himself all the way to the hilt of you, “You save yourself for me, angel?” He teased, giving you time to adjust to his size.
Aizawa put his arms under you, pulling you impossibly close to him, chest to chest, skin to skin, taking your mouth in another deep and messy kiss. Your walls clenched around him. You whimpered against his neck, finally adjusting to him.
Keeping you held close, he started to thrust. Slow and gentle. Just like you requested. He made sure you were nice and close to him, your head all warm and fuzzy when he rolled his hips, hitting your cervix with his piercings.
He smirked against your lips as you moaned, kissing you again. He was just teasing you now. You were completely overwhelmed– taken over by the feeling of him inside you, his piercings hitting every part that you need, “Too much, pretty girl? Want me to pull out?”
You shook your head, “No s-sir– please–” you begged, slowly rolling your hips to meet his teasing thursts.
“Good girl, use your words for me. Tell me what you want.” He praised into your ear, fucking into you a little harder, just enough for you to strugg;e under him.
He kept going, pulling almost all the way out infuriatingly slowly before slamming back into you, gently kissing your neck, holding your hand while you tried meeting his thrusts under him. He could go for hours, you on the other hand? Not so much.
Hour 3 of 5. He’s still going, you were so wet your slick was dripping onto the bed underneath both of you. Aizawa kept the rhythm slow, keeping you held against him, trapping you.
“P-Please sir– can I cum yet..?” You pleaded, tears streaming down your face.
He shook his head, licking your tears away, “Stay quiet, pretty girl. I’ll take care of you. Just relax.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut, focusing all your effort into not cumming all over him. You weren’t going to make it, not for much longer.
He pulled out, all the way, before slamming back into you, hard and merciless. You came, digging your fingernails into his back as you trembled and shook underneath him. Aizawa pushed even deeper, crushing you under him as he came inside you.
You felt his cum seep into you, your cunt milking him dry as his cum spilt out of you, flowing into the bed, he fucked you all the way through your orgasm until you were overstimulated before he pulled out.
Aizawa sighed softly as he pulled out, “Whoops. Sorry, angel. Probably could’ve lasted longer if you weren’t so tight,” He reached over the bed, grabbing his boxers to pull back on, “Or so pretty.”
You were too spent to blush or be flustered, just staring blankly at the ceiling, a thin strand of drool running out the side of your lips.
He laid back in the bed next to you, effortlessly pulling you against him, kissing your forehead softly, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your mouth, “Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll stay until you wake up.” He murmured softly against your hair before you fell asleep.
Worth every million.
tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
18+ sukuna jerking off while sucking your tits.
you're practically cradling sukuna's head in your lap, his lips latched on to your tits, sucking on them sweetly and his tongue circling your perked nubs every now and then. he's busy fisting his cock which is throbbing in his hands, droplets of pre dribbling down his mushroomy tip.
"fuck baby," he groans, popping his lips off of your nipples to look up at you with that smug smirk of his. "your tits are just so perfect. like they were made just for me."
you mewl cutely as he attaches his lips back on you, suckling the supple flesh while he continues to pump his fat cock. he groans lowly when he flicks the tip of his tongue on your nipples, making you whimper his name adorably which has him right on the brink of his orgasm.
what tips him over the edge is you shyly pinching your other nipple, soft moans spilling from your lips. "shit baby," he grunts, voice dark and hungry. "keep doing that, 's so fuckin' hot."
you listen to him, rubbing it with more pressure that has you moaning louder, cheeks burning from the way he's staring at you with the most primal look in his eyes. he doesn't even know where to look, just so completely enamoured by you — and your tits.
"cum for me," you whisper coyly, giving him the sweetest smile. and in a second, he's spurting ribbons and ribbons of cum all over his lower abdomen, some of it even painting your lovely breasts.
sukuna sighs contentedly, giving your nipple a light bite. you squeal in surprise, hitting his chest in faux annoyance. he simply chuckles, planting an open mouthed kiss over where he'd just bit you. "you're so cute," he grins. "cuter than your tits for sure."
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aizawa's usually not that affectionate, you came to terms with that long ago blah blah blah - but there are still times when he's between your legs and nosing at your clit, when all you hear from him are words of praise as he lazily licks up your arousal, all kinds of you're doing so well's and you taste so good's, and the words alone are more than enough to make you peak - until he abruptly breaks away, big hands skimming your waist, your shoulders, your neck, before eventually stopping to rest gently around your face. "missed you down there," he'll say, nuzzling your nose and cheek, happy to watch you melt under the cheesy words before returning to his task of making you cum until you cry
aizawa x pervert!reader who literally never tires of fucking this grumpy old man. like he has to block out vacation days dedicated to whatever thing you wanna try next
y/n, opening laptop: so i've outlined the latest scene -
aizawa, pinning you back down: demon that is literally 20 pages long