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nanamimizz · 2 years

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synopsis: you’ve noticed something about shouta.

tags: 18+ minors dni, no power dynamics, switch reader/switch aizawa, handjob, m!receiving oral, praise, kissing, use of daddy (as a petname not the kink) hickeys, bite marks, cum eating, gen reader! food mention and alcohol mentioned

he’s prone to flushing when you give him praise. it happened the first time you told him - “you’re so good to me shouta.” after he had gotten up to help you out of your work clothes when you come home late on one of his rare days off. he had flushed a pretty pink on his pale complexion, tucking and hiding his handsome face into the waves his hair and muttered a soft thank you.

it made you laugh behind your hand when presented with the simply truth that such a formidable hero would buckle at the knee by sweetened words.

you liked it though, being on the receiving of praise is quite a high but seeing this weakness in your often sleep deprived lover made your figurative tail wag at the prospect of showering him with as much praise as you can muster to see his handsome visage bloom that delightful pink one more time.

you bite at your lip and plot, watching him with lidded and mischievous eyes as he settles next to you; pushing up his square glasses up the bridge of his nose, settling his laptop higher on his lap and lets his hand rest at your head to scratch your scalp until you snooze away next to him like a spoiled cat.

it happened sooner than you think. a rare night off for both you and shouta - you surprise him with a favorite dinner of his; beef hot pot with miso broth. he smiles when he sees the ingredients on the table and helps you chop the vegetables you bought - nappa cabbage, enoki mushrooms and carrots.

dinner is eaten and well enjoyed, you even brought out some sake for him - shouta rolls his eyes playfully at your all out approach to your little date night. you trudge from the dinner table content and shouta pink cheeked nuzzling your cheek on the way to the couch. his stubble makes you laugh as he hums, looking at you with lidded eyes - eyes warm like light coals and glittering in the low candle light you set up in the living room.

“thank you for cooking, it means a lot.” he mutters, bringing you down with him to rest on his chest. his chest rumbles as he speaks and you rest your cheek on his pec, looking up at him with shining eyes. you tilt your head, reaching up the small gap of skin exposed by his v-neck and press a sweet kiss and smiling when you feel his heart beat increase in pace at the endearment.

“i’d cook for you whenever and whatever you want handsome.” you purr, tilting your head in a way that he can’t help but find sensual as he catches your eyes and swallows. he feels his face warm and its not just from the liquor and he finds that he can’t quiet meet your gaze. you smile at his fluster and maybe its the alcohol that’s loosened your lips but you climb lower, hand going up his shirt and your nails raking against the soft hair that trails his stomach in the way that makes him shake beneath you.

you feel him tense and you look up at him with your head cocked to the side.

(can i go further? can i touch you? i want to.)

you see him swallow. pink tongue wets his lips and like it was the first time again he averts his eyes and nods. you smile victoriously at his surrender and get to work.

black sweats are tugged down and his shirt is rucked up, a built stomach and narrow hips are display for your enjoyment - you lean down to kiss at his happy trail. you hear sigh from on high and you let your hands press soft, sweet little touches against the sensitive skin of his thighs. with your last kiss and his sharp hips you let your teeth sink into the muscle and suck. a bruise - a hickey is left and he knows he’ll paw at it, pressing down on the mark until it aches.

a mark of your grace.

shouta hardens beneath you - he’s incredibly weak for you, something about your wicked and disarming eyes that are filled to the brim with eagerness to please makes him think you’re some sort of puppy in disguise and he can’t help but moan when you duck down, pressing your soft lips to the bulge in his briefs. even through the fabric your mouth feels hot and he doesn’t think he’s going to make it to when you first let him in.

his hand settles on your head, fingers curling into the hair before releasing again. he doesn’t want to hurt you, to ruin your fun but you can be a tease when you want to be and he wants to last damn it. you exhale from against his hardness, amused but you give in to what he wants - you are here to please, not to torture. you hope shouta can take some notes from your benevolence when he is on top.

cold hands peel back his underwear and you can’t help but shiver at the sight of his cock, it never fails to leave you breathless. long with a bit of girth, noticeable veins along the shaft and a red tip that leaks enough to stain his thighs. you really can’t help yourself when you duck down to press a kiss to the wet tip - cupping your tongue around its head and moan at the taste of him.

above you, shouta moans - his back arching and gripping the pillow he reclines on as he watches how you take his cock in your mouth. flicking your eyes up, framed by your lashes he whispers your name; his voice shaky and reverent at the sight of you pleasuring him. shouta cracks under the heat of your mouth as you take more of him, the feeling of your silk tongue tracing the veins on his cock as your satin cheeks rub against his shaft.

his knees that frame your sides begin to shake and he taps your shoulders - get up, get off it’s too much. you pull away with a wet pop, strings of spit following you as you pant softly and he watches mystified, cock throbbing in the space between you as he watches you tuck hair behind your ear like you haven’t ruined him for any other.

“was it getting too much? do you want to stop?” you ask, your flirtatious and teasing replaced with concern and worry that he dispels with a shake of his. shouta feels his face go from pink to red as he confesses,

“i like kissing you when i finish. use your hands,” he says and he quietly finishes with “…please.”

you smile and nod, heart softened by such a sweet request. shuffling up until you are in between his upper and lower half, he lean into your space his mouth seeking yours - as your softer hand wraps around his cock he moans as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. shouta feels his jaw go slack as he loses control over himself like this - your hand is cold and soft, warming by the friction of how he fucks your fist; your thumb circling the head and swipes more of his slick around his too sensitive tip.

he can’t help but gasp as you slide your tongue into his mouth, sucking on his tongue and his hand comes to wrap into your hair to keep you in place as he chases his pleasure - hips stuttering into your grasp. the pleasure makes his grip loosen as he eyes slowly shut and you pull away from the kiss to mutter candied endearments into his ear.

“so good shouta, so good for me,” you sigh, hearts in your eyes as you watch him fall deeper and deeper into his lust riddled haze. his face in incredibly hot next to you, eyes shut as you coo into his ear,

“so handsome shouta - cmon keep fucking me. use me to feel good baby. wanna make you cum for me.” you murmur and he gasps, pace face and uneven and you can feel it in his posture how he steals so fast and so hard your surprised something didn’t sprain. you take the initiative and tighten your fist, pumping it around his cock as he gasp and groans next to you. you press a kiss to the corner of his panting mouth and your eyes twinkle at an idea that blooms in your wicked mind.

“c’mon daddy, cum for me.” you say sickeningly sweet, smiling at how his eyes snap open wide and dark as he spills over your fist. he grunts, feels like he’s been punching in the stomach at how hard the band of his orgasm snaps. you keep tugging his cock, watching how the spurts of his cum coats your knuckles with kind eyes. your other hand comes into his hairs, rubbing at his scalp as he comes down.

“good shouta, so good for me. so pretty to look at.” you whisper and he freezes, eyes wide, burrows furrowed and incredibly pink in the fact down to his chest as everything that transpired sinks in. you giggled and his wondered expression and ask what’s wrong. he says nothing, blinking and averting your gaze and he feels 18 again when he creamed his pants after his first make out session.

“don’t call me that again.” he rumbles, voice deep but thin, shy even. you chuckle, and decide to play clueless.

“call you what again? handsome? or do you mean pretty?” his eyes snap to you and in the dim lighting of the room you can see his thin lips form a pout. you can’t help but giggly, euphoric from the night. you can’t believe you got pro hero eraserhead underneath you and pouting in the same night.

“daddy - don’t call me that it’s embarrassing.” he says, face going pink to red at the memory that he’s sure will haunt him forever. you hum, taking a piece of hair that hides his handsome face from your view and playing with the lock.

“embarrassing because you like it?” his silence reveals his honesty and you grin, teeth glinting in the low light and he shivers at the sight. he doesn’t know what he’s awakened within you does he?

shouta watches you, heat blooming in his stomach as he watches you lick the remains of him off your fist. he can’t help himself when he reaches out to cup in between your legs and he grins when he feels the radiating heat in there.

“want me to help down here?” he asks, eyes locked on your face as you shiver when he presses more on your crotch. you avert your gaze and wipe your dirty hand on a small towel you conveniently left out during cleaning.

“this night is supposed to be about you.” you mutter quietly, he chuckles.

“that’s why you wined and dined me?” he asks.

you nod.

“you’re going to spoil me rotten.” he mutters, heart full and set on repaying you for your efforts tonight. he rolls up, and you land beneath him - like all things the push and pull between you two is as fluid as water.

“you deserve it.” you retaliate and he rolls his shoulder, tucking himself into his clothes and lets a hand press onto your stomach, calloused fingers tracing your soft skin. he hums, head tilting in thought as he lets his hands wander as they please.

“heroes don’t do the things they do for praise, especially me.” he tells you and you’d roll your eyes if it wasn’t for how you shiver under his touch. clearly you’ve taken notes out of his book, you think comedically.

“it’s not because you’re a hero. it’s because you are good to me.” you confess with certainty and shouta looks into your eyes and swallows, looking at you with such intensity you wonder what thoughts are flicking through his mind.

“thank you.” he says finally, voice thick with emotion you can’t quite read. he leans down to kiss you, he can taste the salt of his cum on your tongue but he doesn’t mind. he kisses you deeply as he can, as if the words i love you could be passed to you by the caressing of your tongues alone. when he parts he rests his forehead to yours and his thumbs rub at your pelvis in a way that makes you whine in anticipation.

“it’s my turn to spoil you.” the words would sound sweet any other time, but right now you can’t help but shiver under his gaze. it’s a good thing you have a late start tomorrow.

#lamb.writes #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #my hero smut #my hero x reader #fang said aizawa gets flustered when he feels like an object of affection and desire and i want to spoil him rotten #but also embarrass and fluster him #he deserves it

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insearchofdeath · 1 year

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Supersonic Death Screams - An interview with Atrax Morgue ESOTERRA # 9 magazine (USA), 2001 What first attracted you to Noise? I started to be interested in experimental music in 1990, when I was 20. I was simply bored by the standard music and I needed to explore more that goes "beyond" music. The first noise band I listened to was Whitehouse and, at first, I didn't like them. Now, Whitehouse is one of my favorite bands, as well as Nurse with Wound, The Sodality, Sigillum S, Genocide Organ Organum, early Current 93, and Coil. I also knew about Cold Meat Industry, buying some of Roger Karmanik's first releases, like Memorandum's Aux Morts LP and Maschinenzimmer's 412 LP. I was hit very hard by the sounds of these bands, very obscure and harsh, and also by the quality of the packaging. At that time, I thought Cold Meat Industry was the label that completely satisfied my tastes. I wrote a congratulation letter to Karmanik and, since then, I have always had a good relationship with CMI. Brighter Death Now has influenced me very much, cause it's the very pure expression of darkness, pain, and death sounds. So in 1992, I recorded my first demo as Atrax Morgue, In Search of Death. I just tried to express my obsessions and desires through harsh electronic sounds and vocals.

Why are you fascinated with death, murder, and serial killers? I'm very obsessed with death and I think that's very clear in all of my works. My ideals and philosophy reflects that "we are constantly in a lackness"; we die and are re-born every moment. Death comes in a moment, in a moment that only faith knows. Death is the moment, the moment is death. Each breath we die, and next breath we are reborn. Each orgasm we die, and so we are reborn. Each sleep is like to die, and the awakening is to be reborn. I'm feeling always in a process, between life and death. I don't feel the passing time. The past doesn't exist; it's only an echo of noise in my mind. The future is destroyed because I live for the moment and I never see any future in front of me. My life condition is like a reflex of energy. A corpse falling into energy's power. Regarding reincarnation, yes, I believe in it, I feel the echoes of my past lives sometimes. I am interested in the pathologic and the extreme, because I think that through the extreme experience everyone can touch deepness himself. Murder is considered the most repulsive act, but it's part of nature, and nature makes the balance between good and evil, day and night. If there's light, there must be the darkness. If there's a birth, there must be a death. Serial Killers are only one of the many manifestations of evil. It's about our modern age and I think it's an interesting phenomenon. In most cases, serial killers show an attitude to sex-death fantasies, and it's just this dangerous mixture of sex and death, to become an obsession, the drive to kill. Kill to satisfy an obsession. I understand these guys. And I haven't shame to talk about it. I myself see death as a beautiful woman. Isn't that an attraction to be destroyed by the object of desire? Those who see beauty as death have seen their killing reflection in a mirror. I haven't any favorite serial killer or murderer. These creatures are only sad testimonials of the human condition.

Have you ever murdered anyone? If I had killed someone, I'll never talk about it to you, don't you think? With my mind I have murdered thousand of humans, and I'm sure that every person has had fantasies of murder at least one time in their lives. It is normal, I think. When I love, I give total love. When I hate, I give total hate. I have fantasies of murder when I see a beautiful woman. It's the same circle of connections between beauty and death. I have not experienced necrophilia but I find it very fascinating. In 1997, I made a short movie regarding this subject. It is called Cockskull Fantasy and it featured about fifteen minutes of masturbation with a plastic skull. The interesting thing about necrophilia is that you can love expecting nothing in return, just pure love. I think it's the highest expression of love, because it goes beyond, in any case. Like pornography, subjects are transformed into objects, in which register a cold, pathologic calligraphy.

Why do you feel so alienated? Alienation is just a rule for me. I have learned to survive with my alienation. But alienated by what? By people? By myself? I hate people, cause I hate myself. I despise people, cause I despise myself. I see the horror through others because I am the horror. It's all a reflection, a deformed mirror. I love people. I really love them. They are so kind, so loving. I love you all. I love myself. I am in love with myself. I am pure contradiction. The point between black and white. I believe in nothing, nothingness. I believe in the next moment. Now, passed. The next… I believe in my corpse, that is my own God. The only thing is to overcome myself, always, and make myself into a masterpiece again and again.

Have you collaborated with any other Noise bands? Yes, I did a collaboration with the Italian experimental Noise band Lunus, under the name Necrofilia. We did just a tape, nothing more. I also had a project with a friend of mine called Progetto Morte, in which I did the electronics and my friend the spoken words. We released two tapes. As Atrax Morgue, I have not collaborated with anyone. It is a strictly personal project. Atrax Morgue is only me, and I'm alone.

Tell me about your Murders fanzine. I released three issues of Murders in 1990. This self-printed magazine was the first step I did and the creation of Slaughter Productions. It was written in Italian and it featured articles about serial killers, necrophilia, extreme sex, and pathology. It also featured a review section about extreme Industrial music.

What equipment do you use? I use an analog synthesizer, a microphone connected with a multi-effect, tape decks and a mixer. Just that. As you can see it's really cheap equipment, but I think the most important thing you must use doing music is your mind.

How do your family and friends feel about your music? I don't have any sort of relationship with my family regarding my work and I don't care to explain what I do with my "music". I have good relationships with some friends, but this is always beyond my music. Atrax Morgue is simply a reflection of myself. My friends are very respectful with me about what I do.

Are you heterosexual or homosexual? I am sexless. I'm feeling between male and female. I am beyond sex. I am enchanted by female beauty because it's possessed with a sort of perverse power and attraction. My love for female beauty is so high that sometimes I feel like changing into a woman just to become my own object of desire. It's the other side of my nature. The metamorphosis is another little death, because I left the old skin, to become a new born creature.

What kind of reaction did you get when you first started performing in Italy? Not a very good reaction. I performed three times in Italy and the audience was bored and they had not a bit of an idea of what I was doing.

What is Italian society like? I don't know. I'm feeling not Italian and don't give a fuck about Italy. You can change any place in the world but you can't change your mind and your interior life. I've always felt outside of society, living in my closed, aseptic world. A world I've created specially for myself. I love to travel, but I'm always feeling the same sensation any place I go-- like a visitor from an outer space.

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#atrax morgue #marco corbelli #industrial #My love for female beauty is so high that sometimes I feel like changing into a woman just to become my own object of desire.#It's the other side of my nature. The metamorphosis is another little death #because I left the old skin #to become a new born creature.#long post

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