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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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FIC: After Party (Iida x F!Reader; smut)

DISCLAIMER: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged up to young adult/adult in my work by default unless otherwise stated or specified. TITLE: After Party PAIRINGS: Tenya Iida x F!Reader SUMMARY: Tenya’s birthday was yesterday, but the party goes on to the morning. WARNINGS: Smut, some swearing AUTHOR’S NOTES: I meant this to be for Iida’s birthday, he’s my absolute favorite and I’ve had this planned for a long time, but time constraints and writers’ block kept me from working on it properly, so it’s taken nearly a month to complete. Here’s hoping it was worth it!

~+~+~+~+~

You stir awake slowly to feather-light kisses and gentle but insistent touches, a distantly dull but familiar ache somewhere in your belly and your thighs. You squint your sleepy eyes against the bright glare of the sun, only to be distracted by a little nip at your collarbone.

“Good morning,” comes a low, pleasant greeting at the sound of your groggy waking moan, “Are you awake enough to play a little game?”

A few blinks clears your vision at last, and the first thing you see is Tenya’s soft smiling face, hovering just inches above you. “Game?” you ask, slumber still a little heavy somewhere in your throat.

“Yes, a game,” Tenya replies, the timbre of his tone seeming to soothe into your body, “Just a little one. It’s called the game of remembering. Would you like to know how to play? It’s very simple. I ask a question, you supply the answer. If it’s correct, you get a prize.”

“Mmm, what’s the prize?” you ask, and his grin turns into a smirk, and it sends a spark or two through you.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” he chuckles, “First question: what is the name of the man whose shirt you’re wearing?”

Your eyebrows knot slightly in confusion as you glance at yourself as much as you can. You can’t recall wearing this, or putting it on, but…

“Tenya,” you answer, “Tenya Iida.”

“Correct, player one,” he says, leaning down to kiss your nose, making you giggle, “Second question: Where are we, in this very instant?”

You cast your eyes around; white walls, white ceiling, blue moldings, full-length glass windows and doors to a balcony. Ah.

“Your bedroom,” you reply, “in the new apartment your family got you for your birthday.”

“Correct,” Tenya tells you, dipping his head for a small kiss to your collarbone, “Doing well so far, but now it gets a little tricky. This one is worth more than one kiss. Third question: How did we end up here?”

He was right; this is a bit harder. You reach around in your brain to try and piece things together. A birthday party. His. Tons of his friends from UA, and some of you from the agency he runs with Uraraka and Midoriya. Lots of food. Lots of drinking. Ending up outside on the balcony somehow. And then alone, with him. And then...wait, is that right?

“There was a surprise party for you,” you tell him as he moves just a little lower down your body, watching you the whole time, “It was crowded and noisy, so I stepped outside.”

“Mm-hm…” Tenya urges, “Keep going.”

You can feel your cheeks coloring. You’re not sure you remember correctly, but then...you’re here, and he’s here, and you...it must’ve happened, right?

“You went outside too,” you continue, “We were talking. And then you..” You look away from him, because if you watch him watch you say what you’re about to say, you’ll implode. “You told me you love me. Then you kissed me.”

“Right again, player one,” he laughs, making you almost snap your head up to look down your body at him to see if he’s making fun of you. He isn’t. He drops a kiss onto your stomach that’s a little hotter, a little deeper. “You’re getting good at this, aren’t you?” Another kiss, a little lower, and another one, lower than that, and open-mouthed. You feel something in your belly jump in response. “And what happened after that?”

You don’t even have to try to remember. You can still feel last night all over you, in the pleasant slight ache in your joints, in the fire slowly coming back to life at the apex of your thighs, where Tenya waits with darkened eyes and a playful smirk for you to answer.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, feigning innocence, “I don’t quite recall.”

“Uh-oh, that’s too bad,” Tenya replies with a little laugh, “But not to worry, player one, all is not yet lost. You can still win this game.” “Oh?” you ask, playing along, “How?”

He makes his way up your body, your thighs spread on either side of his waist. “You know what happens when you miss an answer, right? You have to do whatever it is you’ve forgotten all over again.”

You giggle, but the octave drop in his already low tone has you reflexively trying to close your legs against the sudden dull throb between them.

“Oh no,” you chuckle, and he seals with it a hot kiss, deep and hungry, and it makes you claw at him, trying to draw him closer. You whimper when his tongue swipes into your mouth; he does the same when your nails rake through his hair. One warm hand runs down the side of you and pulls your thigh up around his waist. He grinds his hips with clear intent into you, and you can feel his erection just there, almost where you need him but not quite.

“Tenya…” you plead when his mouth breaks away from yours to kiss across your jaw and down your neck.

“Hush, star, you’re alright,” he whispers, hot breath ghosting across your skin, “I’ve got you.” He kisses his way down your body again, between your breasts and over the buttons of the shirt you’re still wearing. With every inch he covers, you feel yourself feeling needier and needier, and by the time he pulls your legs over his broad shoulders, dips his head and gives your slit a languid lick before attaching his lips to your bud and sucking, you’re so ready for him that you cry out with little abandon. You feel more than hear him laugh as his mouth takes you, the lewd, wet noises of his ministrations just barely audible over your breathy moans.

“T-Tenya...fuck...Tenya, I-...Mmm, Tenya, please,” you groan, fingers in your hair and in his.

“You’re delicious, darling,” he moans, “I knew you would be. I hope I’ll never get enough of you.” He goes at you as though he’s been positively starved for the taste of you, and it’s such bright torture, it’s almost too much and not enough at the same time. Your toes are curling and your fingers tangling in his hair and gripping tight at your own breast as his lips and tongue ravage you for all you’re both worth.

He finds just the right spot that has you arching into his mouth and letting out an excited gasp, and he laughs again, focusing his efforts there until you almost beg him to stop. Instead, you give in to the urge to grind against his face, trying to get even more contact, chasing your pleasure as it begins to spike up, up, up. You find a rhythm that matches his, at least until he slowly slides a finger into you, as deep in as it will go.

Tenya’s hand wastes little time, curling and twisting inside you, his lips and tongue joining his fingers in picking up the pace. You’re quivering under him and around him, twisted to the side from the waist up and grabbing at the pillows and headboard in your ecstasy. He angles his hand up just enough for you to feel friction just behind your clit, and then you’re close and getting closer, heat pooling where his mouth and hand are merciless, that heady feeling of need coiling deliciously but achingly tight. You look down at him only to find him watching you, across your dipping stomach and heaving chest as you pant and gasp in pleasure.

“Tenya…” you whine, “Tenya, please…”

All he gives you is a small nod, barely perceptible from between your legs, and then his fingers are inside you to the knuckles, and only the tips curl and prod, while his tongue laps at your bud insistently. The heat in your center flares, the arousal in your belly blooming bright and hot, and every inch of you tensing as he sends you speeding towards release. Your voice rises in both volume and pitch with every cry he draws from you, your toes curling and your fingers grasping and nearly tearing at the sheets beneath you. With a low chuckle, he plants his lips on your clit and sucks sharply, while the tips of his fingers give one final push right where you need it. It’s all it takes to make you come at last, gasping and begging and moaning incoherently as his fingers continue to move in and out of you, drawing out your orgasm for as long as you can stand it, and beyond. You all but rise off the bed, but he holds you down and clamped to his mouth and hand, and he only stops and lets you go when you beg him to, because you’re now a little too sensitive.

Tenya makes his way back up the bed, laying on his side and clutching you gently to him, hands running soothingly across your body as it shudders from little aftershocks. “Ssshh, love,” he coos, dropping small kisses into your hair, “I’ve got you, darling, you’re alright.”

You bury your face in the expanse of his sweat-slickened chest, trying to control your breathing and bring it back to normal. For minutes on end, the two of you stay this way, quiet and together, his arms around you and your body fitting perfectly into his. He’s warm, his touch is gentle and calming, and even the hardness pressing against your thigh isn’t enough to deter you from almost falling back asleep.

You hear a soft hum of contentment, and you look up at him to see him smiling sweetly at you, and you can’t help yourself. You reach up and kiss him, open-mouthed and a little lazy, the taste of you strong on his lips but not so much that you would mind. If anything, the thought of how it came to be there in the first is already stoking a small fire inside you to life.

“Remember now?” he asks, making you giggle, your nose wrinkling a little.

You shrug for effect. “Maybe,” you tell him, “You might need to be more specific.”

His smile changes, and his eyes darken, and it makes you bite your lip at the raw hunger in the way Tenya looks at you. “I think I can manage that,” he says, and whatever retort you might have disappears into his mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss. One hand slides down your side and grasps your ass as he rolls himself onto his back, taking you with him. He plants your thighs on either side of him, and you can feel him, hot and hard pinned between your belly and his. His tongue slips into your mouth and you let him, as his hands cup your cheeks and his fingers stroke into your hair.

“Let me look at you,” he whispers against your lips, “Please, star. I just want to look at you.”

You sit up, your thighs straddling his, and you try your best not to shy away in self-consciousness as his eyes rake up and down your body. His hands climb up your legs, up the meat of your thighs, dragging his shirt that you’re still wearing up with them. You motion to pull it up over your head, but he takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“Slowly,” he says, an order, and a bright spike of arousal shoots through you, and you feel yourself suddenly wetter with need. Worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth, you start to unbutton the shirt, from the top down, and you watch his eyes follow the progress of your hands, his expression a mix of hot desire and soft love. It keeps you going, until you’ve freed the last button and pulled the shirt off completely.

Tenya’s hands travel slowly up your body as his eyes drink in the sight of you, naked in the morning light and sitting atop him, your cunt as wet as his cock is hard. His thumb caresses under your breast as the rest of his fingers circle the mound, cupping and squeezing gently before flicking at the nipple. The nearly inaudible whimper that escapes you then is involuntary, and he can only sigh in response.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you sweetly, knuckles running gently across your cheek, “I’ve thought so for a long time, longer than I can even probably admit. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The warm earnestness in his voice and words makes a new feeling settle in your belly and wrap around your heart, something gentler and lighter. It nearly makes you cry. You settle instead for turning your head and kissing his palm, just above where his pulse races. You’re not sure you can find the right words to reply with, nothing seems to fit the moment, so instead you lean down and kiss him, hoping it will be enough. Tenya’s arms circle you and hold you to him, sighing into your kiss as his hands try and touch as much of you as they can.

“I need you,” he says, a little breathless, “Please, sweetheart, I need you.”

You push yourself off his chest, reaching down with one hand to find his erection even as you readjust your position on him. He groans behind pursed lips when you give his cock a tight stroke or two, before positioning yourself so that his erection lays flat and enveloped between your slick folds. The look of askance on Tenya’s face lasts only as long as it takes you to give an experimental grind, your slit running the length of his shaft. He lets out a mix of a hum and an exhale when you do it again, and then again, pressing down a little more. The slightly leaking tip of his hard-on catches a little on your clit with every forward roll of your hips, and it makes you moan quietly to yourself even as he groans hungrily.

“Yes, oh yes, love,” he growls, his hands on your hips while yours are planted on his shoulders. He can do little but let you ride him like this, almost there where you both want him to be but not quite, and it’s delicious torture all over again. His cock twitches beneath you, and when you moan his name, he’s unable to stop from bucking up against you.

“Oh, star, the things you do to me,” he whines, hips now grinding against you too, matching your pace, “But I can only take so much teasing, love. Please, I want you, I want to be in you.” He punctuates his plea with another sharp jerk, and it catches you off guard. When your mouth falls open in a surprised gasp, he reaches up and kisses you. “Please, love.”

He calls you that as if he’s been calling you that forever - so easily, so simply, so sincerely. It clutches at your heart, already so full with love for him that you’re certain you’ll burst if he says it like that just one more time.

Tenya sits up, clutching you to him even as you lift your hips up enough to adjust, his cock in your hand as you guide your entrance to it. Even though you're more than wet enough for this to be simple, you sink down onto him slowly, wanting to relish the feeling of him entering you, that slight stretch around his girth as his length fills you. If your eyes could stay open, you would see him watching your face as the pleasure of it takes hold. Your jaw falls slack as you moan at the feel of him, and you find yourself gasping at the sharp arousal in your center when he’s finally fully sheathed inside you.

You both start to move at almost the same time, and you can’t tell if you’re grinding down onto him or if he’s grinding up into you more. He swallows your moans and mewls in a kiss, before his lips travel down your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse and collarbone. You grasp his head and hold him close as he moves your body, quickening your pace and roughening his thrusts, until you’re gasping aloud and digging your nails into his back and shoulders.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Tenya.”

“I’m here, darling, I’m here. Fuck, you feel wonderful.”

He lays back down and takes you with him, pressed into his chest where you can hear the hammering of his heartbeat tapping a rhythm in time with the throbbing of his erection inside you. He plants his feet flat on the bed, giving him more leverage to really thrust into you, giving you the full length of him. The curve of his cock presses into that magic spot just past your clit, and it’s making your pulse even as you feel yourself getting even wetter from how good he feels inside you.

When Tenya picks up the pace a little bit more, you can’t help but respond in kind, meeting his thrusts with your own. You tighten around him, and he lets out a choked out moan, his head rearing back into his pillow. “Do that again,” he gasps, and the command in his voice makes you buckle above him as it makes lust shoot quickly through you. You obey him, matching an upward thrust with a contraction, and he lets out a drawn out “Fuuuck” at the sensation.

Still sensitive from your earlier orgasm, it isn’t long before you feel yourself getting close again, and he can tell. He chuckles at the realization. “Want to come again already, darling?” he teases, holding you still and snapping his hips into you, “Is that what I do to you?”

“Yes!” you cry out, the sounds of flesh on flesh driving your need even further, “Oh fuck yes, Tenya, you feel so good...oh God, don’t stop, please!” You can feel yourself tightening, not just your cunt but every part of you, tightening and coiling, anticipation beginning to bubble hot in your blood. He’s bouncing you on him, driving you onto his dick even as he pistons into you, and all you can do is ride out the pleasure, ecstasy coursing through you and pulling you taut with need. “Fuck me, Tenya,” you plead, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

His own growls and gasps and swears mix with your cries, and together you could nearly drown out the hotly obscene sounds of his thighs smacking against your body as he greedily bucks into you. Your fingers are digging so tight into his shoulders that you’re certain there will be marks there for days.

One of his hands slides down and finds your clit, his thumb immediately and effortlessly going to work, making you nearly scream. “I’m close, love,” Tenya declares, just on the edge of out of breath, “Come for me, please. I want to feel you come on me.”

You can’t trust your words anymore; your only response is to move with his hips and his hand, trying your damnedest best to keep up as you chase the orgasm that’s almost within reach. Your eyes are screwed tightly closed but your mouth is open and slack, curses and moans falling from them as heat pulls in, in, in, and then one well-aimed thrust and well-timed press at your clit has you breaking at last, your climax hitting unexpected and inevitable at the same time. Your throat feels ragged as you cry out, shuddering above and on Tenya, whose hips continue to pump into you as you come on his cock.

Tenya isn’t far behind, thrusts becoming erratic as he draws closer to his own release. He stops, rather abruptly, only long enough to roll you both over again until now you are the one on your back, his broader frame hovering above you as he supports his weight with one arm. The other clutches at your thigh, drawing it up as he begins to thrust into you again, slower now but deeper, his whole body pressing into you as he pushes in as much as he can. It would be enough to get you going again if you weren’t already feeling all fucked out. Instead, you hold him, run fingers through his hair and kiss his cheeks, pull him to you so he can bury his face in your neck and shoulder as cock twitches inside you.

“Please,” he breathes, “Darling, love, please, I-”

He pulls out of you, and you understand. You reach down, keeping your gaze on his eyes as you wrap a hand around his cock. His hand joins yours, and he shows you how he wants it, how tight and how fast. A good twist as your hand comes up to the head, and he finally comes, spilling onto your stomach and belly as your name falls in broken moans from his lips. The force of it has him thrusting involuntarily into your fist, and he chokes at the oversensitivity he’s driving himself to. He seems loath to pull your hand away, but he finds the will to, just as he falls onto his side beside you, as boneless as you are. Stil, he somehow is able to reach for the shirt you had discarded, using it to clean you off before throwing it over the edge of the bed and settling onto his back, his arm beneath and around you.

“Are you alright?” he asks when he gets some of his breathing back.

“Yes,” you tell him, nuzzling into his touch, your head on his chest, your hand on his heart, “I think I remember now.”

He laughs a little incredulously, seeming to not have expected the joke, drawing you up to his lips to kiss you briefly. “Good to hear. I hope you don’t forget again.”

“I hope I do,” you answer, “If this is how you’re going to remind me.”

“Minx,” he chuckles, giving you another quick kiss, “I meant what I said last night, you know?” His tone is as soft as the smile on his face.

“I know,” you reply, “So did I.”

“Oh?” he asks, “Funny, I don’t recall you saying anything last night.”

That earns him a snort from you, one that makes him laugh again. “That’s too bad,” you retort, propping yourself up on an elbow to look down at him, “Guess we’ll have to do that all over again. That’s the punishment, right?”

“It is,” he agrees, before you lean into him and kiss him, “I love you.”

His hand is on yours where it lays above his heart. You twine your fingers with his, your other hand gentle on his warm cheek.

“I love you too.”

~ END. ~

#tenya iida #iida tenya #iida x reader #iida/reader #ichi fics #rating: explicit

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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may i request dabi and/or overhaul for the nsfw alphabet thing? :0

Sure thing! Dabi’s already in my list, but a bit further down the line. I’ll go ahead and add Overhaul to the list too :D

Thanks for requesting, and thanks for reading my work!

#anon #nsfw alphabet #requests #dabi #overhaul #ichi inbox

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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DISCLAIMER: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged up to young adult or adult in my work by default unless otherwise stated.

NSFW ALPHABET: Keigo Takami / Hawks

A = Aftercare: The great secret of Hawks is how always seems to care in secret, in the little hidden moments that no one else sees, when he doesn’t have to be Hawks. In love and fucked out Keigo is exactly that - he may act a little aloof and goofy, but he is meticulous, conscientious and concerned. He’ll do his part, and make sure you’re comfortable and cozy. What he can’t or doesn’t say in words, either because he won’t say them or because he hides them, he shows in action.

B = Body part: The goofy, playful side of him loves your ass, no matter what you think of it. It’s always a prime target, because you never know how or when he can strike at it, no matter how much you brace yourself. That, and he does rather love the way it looks when you grind back against him or in his lap. The besotted, romantic side of him is in love with your eyes. He’s drawn to the way they light up when you smile or laugh, or the way the light catches in them when you’re truly happy or content.

C = Cum: For Hawks, the destination is just as important as the journey. He loves the feeling of coming, the hot build up and the split second right before everything bursts. The sensation of coming can keep him coming until he wears himself out. He’ll keep you coming too, because he’s obsessed with how you look, how you sound and how you feel when it hits. He thinks you’re so beautiful when you let go and just let yourself feel.

D = Dirty Secret: Hawks, the paradox that he is, likes to show you off while being a jealous fuck. He rather likes watching people’s reactions to you, likes to watch them surreptitiously leer in your direction or try to flirt with you, because he knows you wouldn’t take them seriously, and if you flirt back, it’s only to make him jealous, because he is a jealous little fuck. He gets off on the idea that the people are about as uncontrollably attracted to his lover as he is, but he’s not about to let them within 10 feet of you unless under specific circumstances.

E = Experience: Oh, he definitely knows what he’s doing, and he’s rather characteristically smug about it. It’s the way you can’t help but be vocal when he’s fucking you about just how good he’s making you feel that really drives the point home for it, something he’s not above holding over your head sometimes to tease you.

F = Favourite Position: Anything that lets him see your face is his favorite. This doesn’t always mean face to face though. Sometimes it means taking you from behind while your hands are on either side of a full standing mirror, or walking around you while his feathers go to town on your body and make you squirm and writhe with need. Your pleasure turns him on a lot, almost more than the thought that he’s the one causing it.

G = Goofy: Hawks is goofy and playful by nature, so it stands to reason that he would be thus in bed too. He gets a kick out of the fun of it all. If it’s not fun, it’s not worth having or doing.

H = Hair: The lucky bastard barely grows any hair on his body. Whatever does grow gets shaven off. You’re not entirely sure why, other than it’s probably cleaner for him.

I = Intimacy: Hawks can be aloof and goofy and sarcastic and charismatic for the world to see, but when it’s just the two of you, he can’t help but let that guard down. He’s surprisingly sweet and sincere, sometimes even soft, but it’s always only in secret, only in moments that only you would ever be witness to. As much as he loves the fun of having sex, the intimacy that goes along with it can sometimes get to him and make him give in to that part of himself that he has trained long and hard to safeguard. It’s not clear to him whether it’s the act, or if it’s you.

J = Jack Off: He does, but not often, and really only because you don’t always get to spend a lot of time together. Sometimes he just misses you too much, and sometimes his need for you is too distracting and needs to be taken care of. And you know it too, because he’s told you about it. In bed. Whispering in your ear about how he loves to come to thoughts of you and how you sound and taste when he’s touching himself while he’s got two fingers deep inside you.

K = Kink: Let’s be real - Hawks has tried and gotten attached to so many things that he probably can’t pick a favorite even if you held a gun to his head or a knife to his throat. The list of things he doesn’t consider a kink is probably shorter. But it sure is fun trying to figure it all out with him.

L = Location: For all his flashiness and penchant for showing off, he still prefers the comfort and privacy of a bedroom, whether it be his or yours, or a nice swanky hotel somewhere near where he’s stationed, or a small, quiet BNB in the countryside. He’s a man who likes the simple pleasures, and the more of it he can get and give you, the happier he is. Besides, it’s when he’s with you that he’s more himself, guarded or otherwise, and no one else is allowed to see that. That stays in the sanctity of the bedroom he’s sharing with you, where it’s always as special and deliberately for you as it feels or sounds in his head.

M = Motivation: Your easygoing, carefree eyes, laugh and smile can get him revved up, but it’s the way you move that can really fuck with him. Whether it’s the surety of your movements in combat, or the odd grace in something as simple as picking up a pen to twirl it between your fingers or chew on the end of it, or the way you writhe under his touch when you’re under him or the way you bounce when you’re on top of him. He’s told you often enough that he’s popped a hard-on for you in the middle of a fight that it just doesn’t surprise you anymore.

N = NO: He doesn’t like when things get too serious. And he’s not going to do you when either of you are angry or annoyed or irritated. Sex is fun, but it’s not something that should be used to temper your mood. He finds it hard to be turned on when he’s ticked off anyway.

O = Oral: He loves to give it, and holy hell, does it fucking show. Turns out his mouth isn’t just good for snappy comebacks and witty sarcastic retorts. He can make you come with just his lips and tongue and teeth, and he knows it, and he’s damn proud of it. As he should be.

P = Pace: Let’s put it this way - the man known as the fastest hero isn’t one for slow sex. Sure, some things will warrant a sweeter, slower pace, but he prefers a beat he can dance to. That comes with its own brand of roughness. Not overly painful, but just enough to rock a bed hard enough to make any neighbors wonder if he’s training or fucking.

Q = Quickie: Oh, he’s all for them, if you want them. It’s a simple pleasure, after all. To him, at least. Besides, he’s always sure he can get you to come for him in mere minutes, and he’d love for you to try and prove him wrong. (You haven’t yet.)

R = Risk: Hawks is definitely up for a bit of excitement, like the type that’s just enough to make you try to be quiet as he tries to make you get louder in case someone is close by and can hear him giving it to you hard in some nondescript niche. But always within reason, and only if it’s fun. If it’s complicated risk, or if it’s something that could potentially get complicated, he’s out. You might be able to talk him into a few things, because he’s a sucker for you and there’s very little he’ll say no to you for.

S = Stamina: He usually stops at two, maybe three rounds if you’re up for it, but that’s no indication of how long he can keep going. He’s not even tired by the end of round three, not unless you really make him work for it, and even then, it’s about as good as a regular work-out for him. Sometimes, a good session in the morning is a better perk-up for the rest of his day than a quick jog or fly-over.

T = Toy: Whatever he does own, he bought only to use on you. Not that he’s not a fan of them, he just doesn’t have a use for them for himself. He much prefers seeing you in leather handcuffs, or watching you use a dildo on yourself while you suck his cock, or try to contain your moans and shuddering when he makes you come in public with remote-controlled vibrating underwear, or making you scream as you orgasm because of the cock ring he’s wearing while his dick is shoved to the hilt inside you.

U = Unfair: Oh, he’s absolutely unfair. He loves to tease, because it makes you make the cutest little faces and noises, and it makes your orgasm hit that much harder the longer he keeps you away from it.

V = Volume: He’s not a screamer, but he’s definitely quite vocal. He’s not one to shy away from letting you know how good you make him feel. That comes in the form of breathy moans, sexy low chuckles and dirty talk. He’ll let out a sharp cuss one second because you’ve clamped down on his dick, and then in the next be telling you breathlessly how tight you feel around his cock. And he loves to praise you, because it makes you blush and whimper and he thinks it’s the cutest damn thing in the world when you’re embarrassed while he’s balls deep in you.

W = Wild Card: The back of his neck and all the way down his spine are sensitive and ticklilsh. Pulling a bit on the hairs at his nape can make him gasp and make his thrusts stutter a bit, but running a hand down his back will make him arch for you. Not that you’d really be able to reach or touch him that way when you’re facing him or in front of him because of his wings, but there are lots of other positions.

X = X-Ray: His cock seems almost typical of him; if a penis could be slender and lithe, that’s exactly what it is, but with just enough of a little extra girth to make you question if it’s as thick as it feels inside you. He’s also a little longer than you initially expected him to be, a fact he likes to remind you of by driving every last inch of him into you and staying there until you’re begging him to fucking move already.

Y = Yearning: Hawks would probably be a bit more horny on main if not for the nature of his work and who it needs him to be. That’s not to say he can do without. He’s definitely quite needy when it comes to you. Any opening he can get to spend more than a handful of hours or days with you is precious to him; you can expect to not leave your bed for a couple of days for every week of vacation you get with him.

Z = ZZZ: It might surprise you to find that he falls asleep relatively quickly, especially after a damn good night with you. He’s not a heavy sleeper per se, so the fact that it can usually only take about twenty minutes for him to be asleep after you’re both fucked out is a little unusual, at least until you realize that being with you is the most peaceful and comfortable he ever feels. Holding you or being held by you is enough of a force field for him to ignore the rest of the world and what it makes him be, at least for a little while. As a hero, he’s working towards a world where people can rest and sleep, but it’s as your lover that he gets exactly that for himself.

~ END. ~

#keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks #nsfw alphabet #hawks x reader #ichi fics #rating: hard r

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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DISCLAIMERS: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged-up to young adult or adult in my work by default unless otherwise stated.

NSFW ALPHABET: Tomura Shigaraki

A = Aftercare: Let’s face it - Shigaraki wouldn’t really have enough patience for your aftercare. You’ll have to take care of that yourself. Then again, there are times when he’d like to admire his handiwork, and all but command you to not clean up. Still, he’s surprisingly into cuddling or spooning you, or what would pass as that for him. As long as he can hold you close and hold you tight, so you can’t leave him. He would hate for you to leave him.

B = Body part: His favorite part of his body are his hands. Whether or not that’s surprising is of no significance to him; it’s where his power is. He can wreck you with a single finger or two, have you writhing and squirming and moaning and pleading when he uses his hands right. And that’s not even talking about his Quirk.

His favorite body part on you is your neck. It’s a very vulnerable spot, one he can attack with lips, tongue, teeth, breath, fingers, hands. The noises you make when he fixates there are music to his ears, whether you’re mewling for more or whimpering for less.

C = Cum: One way or another, his is going to end up inside you. Whether he’s making you swallow it after sucking him off, or licking it off of your own fingers when you wipe it off your skin, or spilling inside you with your legs wrapped around him or your front pressed into the mattress. Should he come on you, it’s staying there until much later, after you’ve fallen asleep and woken up. It’s how he likes to mark you. (If you are someone who can but doesn’t want to get pregnant, you may want to take every precaution possible.)

He loves the taste of your come, he may even be addicted to it, but neither of you really know for sure. He’s likely to force an orgasm or two out of you purely for his own satisfaction. If you didn’t think you could squirt, or that it was real, he’ll prove you very wrong. If you didn’t think you could come anymore, or that you’ll just be shooting blanks after the third orgasm, he’ll surprise you there too.

D = Dirty Secret: The thought, the knowledge, the danger of him being able to easily kill you scares him, but not as much as it turns him on. You’re putting your life in his hands, figuratively and literally, whenever you’re with him. One wrong move, and it could be all over. The calculated risk is what does it for him, sure, but the thought that you choose this, that you are giving yourself to him when all it could take to destroy you is a single finger, really gets him going. It might even be pulling at a few heartstrings of his, at least enough to make him want to protect you, a cherished, prized possession, something he won’t stand to lose. Losing you could spell disaster for everyone and everything else. And yet, and yet, there you both are, sometimes a single touch away from it being all over.

E = Experience: Oh, he knows what he’s doing. You’re not entirely sure how and when he even had the time to figure it all out, let alone with whom, but the jealous part of you, the part that’s in love with him, doesn’t really want to know.

F = Favourite Position: Anything that means he’s dominant. Whether it’s pinning you against a wall with your back against his chest, or tied to the bedposts so you can’t touch him or yourself, or on his lap in a meeting with his cock inside you as if no one else knows what’s going on. He’s in charge, and he’s not about to let you - or anyone, for that matter - forget.

G = Goofy: His dark sense of humor can definitely come out during sex, including but not limited to finding it amusing to see the fear in your eyes when you think his threats of “accidentally” using one too many fingers are serious, or when he’s having the time of his life teasing and edging you to oversensitivity. He does, however, have his moments of softness, when he laughs just because you laugh, or he finds a spot on you that’s particularly ticklish.

H = Hair: It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that his Quirk affects different parts of him too, perhaps to the point where he doesn’t grow much hair anywhere else other than his head, if at all. In any case, he’s definitely shaved down there, although whether it’s something he does himself, an effect of his Quirk, or maybe even gets someone else to do it for him, you’re not sure you want to know.

I = Intimacy: Intimacy and romance aren’t the same for Shigaraki as they are for everyone. These are things that were not necessarily on his mind for a good part of his life, maybe not until you came along at all, even if he’d had partners before you. That being said, he enjoys your kisses, and the fact that you even like kissing him, or that you would want to kiss him at all. He also happens to enjoy holding you close, but you’re not sure if it’s romantic, or because it’s his way of making sure you don’t get away.

J = Jack Off: He doesn’t do it very often. He prefers to save it all for you. But he does masturbate in front of you, teasing you about what you do to him, and what he’s sure you’d like for him to do to you, while you’re tied up or somehow unable to touch him or use your words. A handful of times, he’s also jerked off to you - and on you - while you slept. He didn’t want to wake you, you see.

K = Kink: Shigaraki has developed a kink of leaving and seeing his marks on you. It can be something as mild and fleeting as the imprint of his hand when he slaps your ass hard, or something as sinister as leaving a shallow slice on the small of your back to commemmorate something you let him do to you for the first time. Expect to not leave Shigaraki’s bedroom unscathed and unmarked. He’s not hurting you deliberately, or without consent though, he’s not hurting you to hurt you. It’s just that the first time his fingerprints actually left marks on you, it astonished him because it meant he had touched you. He had touched you. And you were still there. And those were his marks on your body. Your body which he could still see, taste, touch.

L = Location: He doesn’t really have a preference, but if he had to choose, it would be in his own private quarters. No one else is allowed in, so he can have you all to himself (despite him sometimes enjoying the thought of making other people watch), and it has everything he likes to use on you. It’s also the place you’ve mentioned being the most comfortable, and that matters to him, perhaps more than even he knows, would admit to, or can articulate.

M = Motivation: His own power and authority turns him on. Being in charge turns him on. When he wants you, you’ll know, and he’ll find you. Show him that you know he’s in charge by doing as he says without overdoing it. If you know there’s a certain type of outfit he likes to see you in, wear it when he has to remind the League or the PLF who the real leader is. Something that hasn’t been said out loud, maybe something that he isn’t even aware is a turn-on for him - show him that you care. Show him you enjoy taking care of him. Show him you’re not gonna leave him anytime soon.

N = NO: What would he NOT do to you? Even he may not be sure. But if you mention something you’re not okay with, something you’re not sure you would entrust to anyone, not even him, he won’t force the issue, and he won’t bring it up again. Is that surprising? Maybe. And not just to you.

O = Oral: He truly can’t decide. Does he enjoy the feel of your hot, wet mouth hollowing around his shaft, your tongue teasing along veins and swells as you suck his soul out through his cock more than he loves making you moan and beg and writhe as he keeps bringing you just close to the edge of climax with his mouth, only to draw away before you find release? Does he prefer holding your head still as he grinds his erection into your mouth until he can come right into the back of your throat, more than he loves fucking you with his fingers while his mouth eagerly awaits the explosive orgasm he’s building up in you?

P = Pace: More often than not, Shigaraki’s pace is quick and rough and deep. He wants you to be able to feel him inside and out. His cock tries to drill a hole straight through you while his thighs and hips ram hard enough against your skin to jerk you upwards at each thrust with a satisfying smacking rhythm.

Q = Quickie: Who is he to deny his and/or your needs, whenever they might hit? You can’t look at him the way you do from across a room and expect him to not want to pull you into a dark corner and make you answer for tempting him. You can’t expect him to head into a meeting he doesn’t want to be in without preemptively taking out some of his frustration with a quick rut that leaves you needy and missing him until he gets back so he can finish you off.

R = Risk: Threat and danger that he can control gets him hard as a rock. The list of risks he won’t take for a bit of simple, carnal fun is far shorter, and the longer you stay with him, the shorter your list becomes as well. Anything that you dictate is absolutely out of bounds is respected and honored by him with little to no questioning, but anything he discovers to be a powerful weakness for you, anything that can make you cream yourself or have you desperately whimpering and begging? He’s not about to let rest. Ever.

S = Stamina: Stamina isn’t really the question for Shigaraki. If it’s just on energy alone, he can go as many rounds as either of you have appendages to count with. With Shigaraki, it’s the interest. On average, two to three drawn out rounds is a safe bet, but once he’s had his fill for the night, he’s done. Even if his body still wants it, a fourth round usually isn’t on his mind. He can wreck you beyond words in one anyway. The second and third rounds are usually your rewards for being so good for him.

T = Toy: Handcuffs, paddles, vibrators, spreaders, blindfolds, tasers...you name it, he has it, or some form of it. If he doesn’t, he’ll find something. They’re all just supplements though. Kindling. Something to get the fire started and spreading. You are coming only on his fingers, in his mouth, on his cock. Getting you there, though, is all fair game.

U = Unfair: He is, very. He likes getting you to the point where you are whining, where you are all but crying with how needy you are. Where you’re calling him a villain and trying to grab him or punch him, anything to make him fuck you and let you come already. He likes making you cling to him, he likes making sure you need him.

V = Volume: He’s not one to really shout or scream, but he’s definitely loud enough for someone passing by outside a locked door to hear. It’s a lot of breathy moans and rough growls, peppered with the occasional villainous laughter at how beautifully tortured you look. It’s not all incoherent sounds though; his words are weapons as well-aimed as his body is. He’ll tell you how fucking good you feel on his cock, how delicious you taste, command you to be louder and louder for him, demand that you come when he tells you, and only when he tells you. These words are for you and you alone.

W = Wild Card: The beginning of your relationship with him could only be described as “Shakespearian.” Shigaraki, despite having had his share of partners, did not think himself one for a lasting relationship - at least, until you came along. He was almost immediately attracted to you, but fuck if he could explain how or why. He just knew you were special, that there was something about you that drew him in and refused to let him go. His pursuit of you was relentless and somewhat aggressive, and though he never did anything so awful as threaten your life if you didn’t spend an evening with him, he was always never far away from you, always sparing a moment or two to slink by and whisper heated promises, paired with even hotter surreptitious glances that he knows makes your breath hitch in your chest. The first night he finally got you alone ended with you gasping for breath in his bed after coming together with him, wondering how long you’ve been this in love with him, and why it took you so long to realize it.

X = X-Ray: For someone who is mostly lithe, Shigaraki is somewhat surprisingly well hung. A good eight to nine inches in length, just thick enough for that good biting stretch, its true appeal is the slight curve that means every thrust hits exactly the right spot.

Y = Yearning: His sex drive wasn’t really high until he met you. Before you, it was just something he experienced that needed sating, as banal as hunger or thirst. But then you came along, and he realized he could want someone almost as much as he wanted to win. With you, he actually enjoys the act, actually allows himself to feel everything, feel you, and it makes him want to have you often.

Z = ZZZ: Shigaraki doesn’t sleep much, that much is already certain. Still, some of the best sleep he gets is with you, after you’re both heaving for breath and all fucked out. You’re not sure how quickly he usually falls asleep, but it seems to happen quickest when he has you cuddled against his chest, his arms around you so he can feel you breathing along with him. Sometimes he falls asleep before you do, and you hear him murmur in his sleep. Sometimes he says your name, and sometimes there are some names you don’t recognize, but they must have meant something to him at some point in his life; he says them with a soft sort of reverence, or is that regret? When this happens, all it usually takes is a few calming strokes of his shoulders, back or arms to calm him.

~ END. ~

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #shimura tenko #nsfw alphabet #ichi fics #rating: hard r

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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FIC: What’s For Dinner? (Aizawa x F!Reader; smut)

DISCLAIMERS: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged up to young adult/adult in my work by default unless otherwise stated. TITLE: What’s For Dinner? PAIRING: Shota Aizawa | Eraserhead/Reader (female) RATING: Hard R to NC-17 WARNING/S: smut, PWP

- - - - -

The weekend is finally on its way, but not before a Friday that Shota believes is about to be a long one at the school. He’s been dreading it almost all week, to the point where he had actually considered aloud not turning up for work, but only for about three seconds. Anticipating this, you send him off with a hearty breakfast, and the promise of a dinner spread to die for. You take the kiss he drops on your forehead as he leaves as his thanks in advance.

You spend the rest of the day excited and preparing, determined to spare no (reasonable) expense and effort in making sure your boyfriend ends his week on a high note. Although you had initially planned to make a few of his favorites, it also seems a perfect time to try a few new dishes from elsewhere, recipes you’ve seen in American and European cookbooks and on YouTube. Really, you just want to make sure he’ll be spoiled for choice. You highly doubt any of this food will be finished off by the end of the evening, but you don’t think he’ll mind.

By the time Shota arrives home, you’re just finishing off an apple pie, pulling it out of the oven to sprinkle crumbles over top of it.

“Smells good in here,” Shota greets, an arm around your waist as he gives your head a chaste kiss, “Been cooking all day?”

“Mostly,” you confess, “Sorry. It might be a bit much, but I just wanted you to have a good evening.”

“I get it,” he says gently, “I’m getting used to you fussing over me. I’ll go wash up and get ready for dinner.” He plants a tiny kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.” As he leaves, his fingers linger just a little longer on you, almost feather-light in their touch.

He’s all set up at the dining table by the time you’re completely done with everything. He has stripped down to a black tank top and loose sweatpants, his hair in an untidy bun that rests on his nape.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” he asks when you put your apron away and reveal the sun dress you’d picked out for dinner.

“I thought you were getting used to me being fussy,” you reply with a small laugh as you pour some wine for him, “I just wanted to look nice, that’s all.”

“Didn’t say you don’t,” he reassures you, “Just wasn’t expecting it.” He tugs your hand to him so he can give it a tiny kiss in apology for the misunderstanding. “Anyway, this sure is a spread.”

“It is,” you answer, feeling just a little proud to have gotten it all done in time, “Thought I’d try something new. Want me to walk you through them?”

“Sure,” Shota says, “Where do you wanna start?”

You look over the table for the perfect starter, and finally decide on the seafood paella. “This is from Spain,” you explain, “I used squid, oysters, clams and white wine. You’ll love this.” You take a little piece and feed it to him.

“That’s good,” he agrees with a little nod, slightly muffled as he chews.

“Thanks,” you answer brightly, casting around for the next thing to let him sample, “This one is Greek, I think. It’s a dip called tzatziki. I made a simple version with yogurt, cucumbers and garlic.” You take a slice of grilled carrots, scoop some of the dip onto it, and hand it to him to taste.

This time, his lips wrap around your fingers too, almost to the knuckle, and his mouth takes just a little longer to release them. The unexpected move makes you glance askance at him, your cheeks coloring and something jumping somewhere in your chest, but the look on his face remains somewhat neutral, but for the ghost of a miniscule smirk in the corner of his lips.

You clear your throat to diffuse the quick and growing change in the air around the both of you. “This is, uh,” you stammer as you move on to the next dish, “a lobster bisque, I think it’s called. French, if I’m not mistaken. Not my first time making it, I got this recipe from my mother.” Really, you should probably use a spoon for this, or let him try the soup on his own, but…

His mouth lingers on your fingers a little long again, moving slower even, and he looks up with you a small grin. “I think I like that one a lot,” he murmurs, just barely above a whisper. There’s a slight edge to his tone and a different light in his half-lidded eyes that you can feel your body responding to already. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, and try to turn your attention back to the food.

“...Um, this is...uh, ceviche,” you explain, trying not to give in to the building heat just crawling beneath your skin, or how his eyes not leaving your face is making your knees feel a little weak, “It’s fresh, er, raw fish, cured in lemon juice, and then seasoned with spices.”

His hand caresses yours when you give him a bit to sample. His mouth and lips are gentle, but it’s even hotter for it. You feel his tongue lick off your index finger before relinquishing it back to you.

“Is it good?” you ask quietly, hoping (and failing) to mask the little moan you heard yourself let out.

“Mm-hm,” Shota replies, but he seems more interested in giving your fingers, palm and wrist sweet kisses that no one would mistake for chaste. Your hand is cradled in his, making it easier for him to press his kisses even more into your skin, and it feels like each one leaves a little heat in its wake.

“Um, this is...fried calamari,” you try to continue, “it’s...one of my favorites…”

But you trail off involuntarily as his lips travel up your arm and onto your shoulder, making your skin prickle pleasantly and your eyes flutter closed of their own accord. Each kiss goes straight through you, pooling hot and bright somewhere below your belly.

“Bet it’s delicious,” Shota breathes, mere millimeters from your ear, “Can I have it later? There’s something else I want to taste right now.”

His lips trail light as cotton across your jaw, until they find yours. His hand winds around your neck and into your hair to draw you deeper into his kiss, and you can’t help but whimper into his mouth as it locks sweetly but intently with yours. His other arm winds around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him. His tongue licks gently at your lips as the hand that had been around your waist now climbs slowly up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress up along with it.

Your hands and fingers are on him now too - on his chest, the back of his neck, in his hair, on his shoulders as Shota grabs your waist and grinds you slow on top of him. You can feel him growing and hardening at your apex, and before long, your movements on him aren’t quite as involuntary. You let out quiet moans as you roll your hips against him, while he mouths and laps at your jaw, behind your ear, and down your neck. He pulls the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his mouth following the path of his fingers. You mewl and gasp a little as his scruff tickles and prickles at your skin. You caress his head and stroke his hair as he sucks at the pulse point where your neck and shoulder meet, his other hand pulling the top of your dress down so it can find and gently squeeze and knead your breast. You whimper out his name when you feel teeth graze your skin and nipple.

“Told you you were overdressed,” Shota chuckles, before his teeth nip at the swell of your breast, enough for you to feel them. In retaliation, you bear down on him, grinding a little harder, a little deeper. He lets out a breathy moan, his jaw falling slightly slack as he glances up at you through dark, hungry eyes.

“Going to do something about it?” you challenge, rolling your hips against him again and making him growl behind pursed lips, “Sensei?”

Shota grabs you and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss that surprises you enough to make you gasp into his mouth. “Don’t do that,” he warns, “You know what happens when you do that.” He reaches behind you and easily finds the zipper of your dress. You can’t help how you arch into him as he draws it down and open.

“Do what, sensei?” you breathe as he licks and sucks along your collarbone. You feel him buck up, probably subconsciously, at your teasing. The motion presses his hardness to your core, and you bite back a quiet moan.

“That,” Shota answers, his tone low and threatening, “Get up.” You pout at him, and he sends a sharp slap at your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He leans in close to your ear. “I won’t ask again.”

You do as you’re told, and he holds you just in front of him, looking up at you as his hands splay across and climb up your thighs and under your dress. His fingers close around the waistband of your underwear and begin to pull the garment downward.

“Shota…” you whimper, your fingers digging a little into his shoulders as the need in your body starts to spike.

“Don’t talk,” he shushes you, still achingly slow as he divests you of your panties. Once you step out of them, he puts them in his pocket, and in one lithe motion, he rises from the dining chair, pulls one of your legs up around his waist until you take the hint and lift the other one as well for him to wrap around himself.

He kisses you hungrily as he takes you to the bedroom, where he all but tosses you down onto your back on the bed. You can’t help but reach down and rub at the ache between your legs as he pulls his tank top off, then pushes his sweatpants down and off as well. His boxers stay on for now, but the sight of him tenting has you subconsciously licking your lips as you try to control how you touch yourself, wanting relief but not wanting to push inside until or unless he tells you to.

He might not have been expecting the sight of you with your hand on your quim, because now he can’t stop watching. His eyes trail over you as he takes in the ministrations of your hand, and the way your body almost rises off the bed as you try to give yourself more friction. You’re too busy with what you’re doing to notice that he goes for the bottom drawer on the bedside table. What snaps you back to reality is a slight click, and a faint whirring sound.

“Shota-oh!”

The sudden touch of vibrations against your clit makes you gasp out a shocked moan at the unexpected contact. He bats your hand away as he presses the vibrating wand in even more, and the sound you let out is strained and high-pitched.

“You know better than to push me, babe,” Shota says, bent over you on the bed, “You think you can tease me like that and get away with it?”

You try to (insincerely) apologize, but he turns the vibration up a notch, and it makes you cry out and grab at the sheets beneath you.

“You want to call me sensei, huh?” he asks, moving the toy along your folds, “Then that’s all you get to call me until we’re done. Is that clear, kitten?”

There it is; your magic word. You can’t tell if the moan you let out is from the vibrations on your cunt or the way he had said it.

“Yes,” you manage to reply, if a little desperately, “Yes, sensei.”

Shota lets out a singular chuckle. “Good,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead, “Good little kitty. Be good for sensei now.”

Your hips try to follow the directions of the vibrator as you try to get as much friction as you possibly can. You can feel yourself getting even wetter with each passing second, a dull throb in your insides starting to thrum a needy beat. Your moans and groans are desperate and hungry and pleading, and you squirm beneath him as he turns the vibration up again and moves the toy quicker.

“Sensei!” you gasp, your body arching up into him, “Sensei, please-”

His hand comes down and around your throat, pressing just enough for pressure. He pins you down with it on the bed, even as the rest of you is bucking against the vibrator.

“What do you want, kitten?” Shota says, “Do you want to come? Do you want me to make you come with this? Answer me.”

He aims the strongest part of the vibration right on your clit, and you gasp and cry out needily, before you’re able to tell him, “Yes! Fuck, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sensei, please. Please make me come!”

“There you go,” he praises, “That’s how you do it.” He wastes no more time, releasing your throat only to suck two fingers into his mouth to wet them before pushing them into your leaking, throbbing pussy.

“Fuck!” you cry out, hands gripping at Shota’s wrists as your hips rise off the bed.

“You said you wanted this, kitten,” he says, fingers stroking and curling and twisting insistently inside you, “You can tell me to stop, and I will. If you want me to stop-”

“No, don’t stop!” you plead, the rhythm of your hips moving to match the pace of his fingers while trying to keep the contact of the vibrator, now at its strongest setting, “Please, fuck, don’t stop, sensei.”

He’s on the bed with you now, your legs on either side of him again. Still in his own underwear, his hips join his hands in torturing you as he grinds against you, the hand he has in your center pushing even deeper, if that’s at all possible.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he breathes, “Fuck...you’re clamping down around my fingers. Getting close, are you?”

You honestly can’t tell - all you can feel is the white hot heat in your cunt, the vibrations on your clit, the fingers pushing into you and stretching you as they scissor on their way out, only to be thrust all the way back in again to curl at exactly the right spot. You’re a mess of choked out moans, high-pitched swears and prayers, and breathless pleas as he moves faster, stoking the flames inside you. His merciless pace has you losing control of your own body; your fingers grab at anything they can reach - him, the sheets, your breasts, your hair - while your eyes are screwed shut and your jaw is slack as the lewdest sounds escape you.

“Come on, come for me, kitten,” Shota urges, his voice almost calm in contrast to how quick and rough his movements are, “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re almost there, babe, come on. Come for sensei.”

His fingers re-angle and curl, finding exactly the right spot that they need to. You practically yell in ecstasy, and he takes that as his cue to focus his efforts there. In mere seconds, he has you shuddering and screaming out as you come hard, riding his hand and the toy to completion. Your juices splash and drizzle his hand and the vibrator, but he pushes for more, not stopping even as your body shivers almost as much as the wand is vibrating. He’s determined to force every last bit of your orgasm from you, whispering little praises and encouragements as your body goes beyond keening, and you feel like you’re about to absolutely melt into nothingness.

As if not yet satisfied with how hard you came for him, Shota withdraws the vibrator and his fingers, and replaces them with his mouth when he pulls you to him as he falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. All you can manage are incoherent, hoarse gasps and cut-off moans as he licks you clean, his tongue occasionally dipping into the cusp of your entrance. Your body spasms with oversensitivity, and your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath again.

“Sh-Shota…” you exhale when he finally lets up, your fingers combing through your hair and trying to soothe the tension in your forehead from how tightly your eyes had been closed.

“Uh-uh,” you hear him say, and with a bit of effort you push yourself up to look at him, just in time to see him straighten up from removing his boxers, “We’re not done yet.”

He pushes your knees apart as he steps closer, then nestles his erection between your folds. You can’t help but watch as his hips give slow, shallow thrusts that rub his shaft along your quickly slickening slit.

“But…” you stutter, “Wh-what about dinner?”

“It’ll keep,” he tells you, bending over you, “I’m not done with appetizers.”

You would laugh into his kiss if it weren’t for the single smooth motion that suddenly fills your quim full of his hard cock.

~ END. ~

#shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa shota #eraserhead #aizawa fic #aizawa x reader #ichi fics #rating: hard r #rating: explicit #rating: nc17

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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Eyyy I love ur ABC MHA stories! I was wondering if you could do a endeavor or rappa one

Hey, thanks so much! I’m glad you’re enjoying them!

Hmmm...probably won’t be doing a Rappa one anytime soon as I don’t have a good enough grasp on his character to be confident in making it as good as I want it to be, but maybe down the line!

I’ll consider doing an Endeavor one in the near future :D

Thanks so much for reading!

#ichi inbox #anon #nsfw alphabet #endeavor #rappa

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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god u just keep hitting it out of the park w these alphabets!! gonna binge all ur stuff for sure :) if ur still taking alphabet requests maybe you could do toga or shigaraki at some point?? honestly take your time do who ever u want I don’t even care about Izuki but u got me bookmarking!!

Oh wow, thank you so much! I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying the series! And I hope you enjoy the rest of my stuff too. More to come soon!

I am absolutely still taking NSFW Alphabet requests! Shigaraki is already on my list (he’s one of my faves), and I’ll go ahead and add Toga in as well. Thanks for your suggestions, and for reading my work!

#izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #deku #himiko toga #toga himiko #nsfw alphabet #ichi inbox

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years ago

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DISCLAIMERS: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged-up in my work by default unless otherwise stated.

NSFW ALPHABET: Izuku Midoriya

A = Aftercare:Deku is all about the aftercare. He almost enjoys it more than the sex itself. He relishes in the opportunity to take care of you and make sure you feel comfortable, comforted and loved. Oh, and he’s big on the post-coital cuddles. He wants to fall asleep holding you in his arms, like he can protect you even in sleep.

B = Body part: He thinks his favorite might be his arms. Scarred though they may be, they’re still strong, and he’s built them up to be able to protect people, and protect you. That, and he secretly likes the way you stare at them when he’s training and working out in a tanktop.

His favorite body parts on you are your eyes. Cheesy though it may sound, it was your eyes that drew him to you in the first place. He thinks there’s magic in the way you look at him; you can say so many things to him with a single look, things he doesn’t need to hear just to know they’re true. That, and the way you smolder at him from across a room really turns him on.

C = Cum: On the one hand, he’s a good boy who comes on you except when you desperately ask him to come in you. His favorite place to spill is across your belly or back. On the other hand, he’s a secretly dirty man who likes to watch you swallow his come or lick it clean off of his fingers. He’s also obssessed with the taste of your come, and can torture the hell out of you just to slake his thirst while you’re whimpering from oversensitivity.

D = Dirty Secret: He can be surprisingly greedy and possessive, even when you’re alone together. He’s not exactly the type who won’t let you leave the house or be with other people without him, not like that. But the thought that you’re his and his alone often makes him hard as a rock, and he’ll do anything to both make sure you want to stay his, and remind him that you’re his in the first place. He’s got a fantasy of making anyone who might be attracted to you sit and watch as he fucks the ever loving shit out of you and make you declare over and over who you belong to, who worked hard to be worthy of you and won your love in the end.

E = Experience: You may not have been each other’s firsts, but Deku may as well have been a virgin when you’d met. The first few times you had sex were a little awkward, but not in a terrible way. “Just means we need a lot more training,” he had half-joked once (and to be honest, you’ve never really heard that word the same way ever again). But now that he knows you and himself a lot better, he definitely knows what he’s doing, and it shows. Although you wouldn’t put it past him to have put in some studious hours and efforts into doing school-level research on How To Fuck Better™.

F = Favourite Position: Deku’s not too fussy with this one. Missionary, standing, up against a wall, doggy, you know, the classics. Not that he hasn’t tried or isn’t up to try anything else, he just doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with vanilla. When he’s giving, he likes to sometimes fold you nearly in half, your legs on his shoulders or in the crooks of his elbows as he rams into you hard enough to dent the mattress. When he’s receiving, he likes to be on his back with a hand around his cock, with you above him, so you can watch what you do to him.

G = Goofy: Doing the do with you is always a good, positive thing for him, it always makes him happy. He can be intensely horny during the act but in general, he likes to joke around and tickle and tease a little. He rather likes making you giggle, only to thrust into you while you’re in mid-laugh, coz the sound of your chuckles suddenly turning into a choked out moan is really hot to him.

H = Hair: He keeps things clean and shaved. Although admittedly, he only trimmed and didn’t really shave down there until you convinced him to, and he thought it looked a little weird at first, but he’s more than used to it now.

I = Intimacy: Deku has a tendency to be a bit cheesily romantic, but not with sex. Yes, the act is always an intimate one with him, and he enjoys making you feel loved, but it’s also about how good it feels to fuck you. It’s a healthy mix of the emotional and physical pleasure for him.

J = Jack Off: He doesn’t feel the need for it much, so he doesn’t do it often, but when he does, it’s because he can’t stop thinking of you and his body has responded and there’s really not much he can do about it but give in. He’s a little embarrassed by it, and he thinks you might not be okay with it because it’s him getting off without you, so he’s secretive about it, even after that one time you accidentally walked in on him, and then helped finish him off with your mouth.

K = Kink: This might be typical of Deku, who worked hard to be who and where he is now as one of the top pro-heroes in Japan, but he’s big on edging. All that effort and building up feels too good to not keep doing, especially when the reward can be so satisfying in more ways than one. So he’ll work and wait and let that release build and that fire grow until it’s ready to burst - hard work worthy of an amazing reward.

L = Location: He doesn’t really have a favorite or a preference, and, probably oddly enough, is DTF anywhere and anytime it hits. Of course, if it’s out in public, it’s gotta be somewhere hidden and away from prying eyes, because a) privacy, and b) you’re his. The list of places he won’t do it at is a shorter list, one that starts with “my mother’s house.” Strangely enough, “All Might’s apartment” is not on that list. Hmmmm...

M = Motivation: Maybe unsurprisingly, you are his biggest turn-on. Coming home to you after a good day at work or a productive training/exercise session, gentle caresses from you if he’s had a rough time, the smell of your cooking as you make his favorite dinner, you wearing an outfit that he will declare will stay on while he’s fucking your brains out, you showering a scant few meters away from him while he’s fighting the temptation to join you...the list is growing and endless.

N = NO: Deku has never thought about sharing you, and he’s not about to start. He’ll have to be talked into a threesome if you really want it, but it’ll take some time and a lot - a lot - of convincing on your part. Similarly, he’s not about to welcome anyone else’s advances towards him, not as long as you’re together and in love. If you’re his, then he’s yours, period.

O = Oral: While he does enjoy giving it, he prefers receiving it. The feel of a hot, wet mouth sucking on his cock while he watches, a hand in your hair as he whispers guidance and praise, is one of his favorite things to get him started and to calm him down.

P = Pace: He does enjoy the occasional slow and sweet, but really, he prefers to go at an above average pace, and rough enough to faintly hear skin slapping on skin when he pounds into you. He can be a teasing little asshole and speed up the closer you get to climax, only to abruptly stop mere seconds before you spill, and then build his pace and your fire back up again. This applies even when you’re on top of him; he’ll grab your waist or hips to keep you still as he fucks up into you like he’s trying to actually set you on fire.

Q = Quickie: He doesn’t usually mind them. He’s had a few of them with you, in fact. Sometimes, he just realy, really, really, really, really wants you.

R = Risk: Deku may be a planner, but sex is a different thing entirely. Not that he isn’t still careful, but some consequences are just a little too delicious to resist being tempted by.

S = Stamina: Deku doesn’t usually go past a round two, but each round can last longer than you might be able to handle. Sure he’s about getting you both off, but the build up to it is almost more enjoyable to him than the reward, so he’s going to draw it out and edge the both of you if he can. And he can.

T = Toy: He wasn’t really one for them until that first time you put a vibrating cock ring on him, and then he was wrecked forever. He doesn’t use them himself usually, but he loves watching you play with yourself, almost as if he’s studying something that he needs to match or do better than.

U = Unfair: Everyone has a dark side, and Deku’s comes out in how much and how hard he teases. It all comes right back around to building up to a mind-blowing reward. He can use his lips and tongue and fingers on you until you’re begging him to just shove his erection in already or let you fuck into him at last, and maybe even past that, to the point that you come exactly when it finally happens.

V = Volume: He’s not loud, but he’s very vocal. He moans and groans so sexily at almost every other thrust, and he can’t help but growl out encouragements and swears, mixed on with the occasional pleading. (And no, he doesn’t yell out “Detroit Smash” when he comes, thank you very much.)

W = Wild Card: As if to make up for the damage done to different parts of his body - or possibly because of it - there are other parts on him that are more sensitive than they should or would generally be on anyone else. The nerve endings in his elbows are pretty much dead, but that leaves his shoulders and the underside of his forearms more susceptive. You’ve learned to use this to your advantage, especially on days when he’s feeling just a little bit...bratty.

X = X-Ray: He’s a tad longer than you would expect someone of his height to be, somewhat surprising but you’re nowhere near complaining about it, not when it’s just enough to always hit the spot. Your gag reflex wasn’t quite as pleased at first though.

Y = Yearning: For someone who thought he was probably not ever going to end up in anyone’s bed, Deku sure can be a randy little bastard. Two to three times a week is a soft average. Not that you can’t tell him no, but expect to end up pinned against him almost every other night, or have be up against a wall with your thighs around his hips and his hand over your mouth as he roots you in some nondescript alley in the middle of a lazy day out on patrol.

Z = ZZZ: Deku’s only quick to fall asleep when he’s really, really tired, and much as he can go for a good while with you, it’s not something that tires him out like that. He can stay up for a little bit longer afterwards, taking care of you and snugling you, making sure you’re okay and comfortable. More often than not, he’ll drift asleep before even knows it’s happening.

~ END. ~

#deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #nsfw alphabet #ichi fics #rating: hard r

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